Imeras had never been a child. She had been the type of girl who had been born with wise eyes, not truly understanding the situation, and yet too wise to pretend that she couldn’t. She had been a child, studious child who had watched everyone, and everything until people began to grow unnerved. She never spoke, and yet she was not dumb. She wrote instead, motioning with her hands and soon her parents began to accept that she was mute, but incredibly smart. They sent her to a special school, and no one, not her cousins or her aunts or uncles cared that she couldn’t speak. They were either fascinated by her, or put off. No one questioned those solemn brown eyes; especially her parents who began to dote on their only child.
No one questioned the fact that she couldn’t speak. That is, except for her.
“Why are you quiet all the time? Can’t you speak?” this was asked by an unusual looking girl, that is… her hair was a dark blue, her eyes black except ringed with hazel gold. She was unusual looking, and from this moment, the first time Imeras saw this slightly chubby young girl, she thought her to be the most beautiful thing in the world. Adults had accepted her colorings to be something her parents, mysterious people had painted her with, for technology was advanced… and she was tame compared to the shocking pink and the piercing that found their way into their school. They were in high school, not quite special and Imeras had learnt to get along with others. In fact, instead of being teased by her handicap like the other mute girls, she was respected. Instead of being disliked, she was liked.
It was pretty simple, really.
At the age of seventeen Imeras was already tall, and while this other young girl still had her baby fat, she was slim to that boyish frame that photographers adored. Her skin was a dusky brown, her eyes a sober brown and ringlets of brown hair tumbled over slender shoulders. She was a beautiful dusky princess, and the fact that no one had heard her speak made her even more mysterious.
Except…
She stared into this girls eyes, black ringed in hazel and felt herself smile. The other was shorter, slim and yet there was a chubbiness to her, a soft frame that made her delightful to watch. A look of annoyance passed over her eyes and she did something she had never done before.
She spoke.
“What makes you think I can’t talk?” her voice was not hoarse with disuse, her words were not formal. They were casual, mellow as if she had been speaking all her life. She showed none of the symptoms people showed when they haven’t been speaking. In fact, her voice was beautiful, considering. It was mellow, low and husky and rather like a seducer in the night sky. People turned, halted and stared not really to admire her voice, but to notice that this quiet, dusky princess had said something.
They aimed glances at her companion who laughed, a delighted laugh as she hooked her arm through her friends, her new friend.
“Because you’ve never done so, silly.” She drawled. “My name is Xavier.” Her voice was lilting, and she laughed once more, causing Imeras to watch her with amusement. This girl was bright, not bubbly and not quite friendly, but there was something about her.
“Imeras.” She said simply. “Imeras Raul.”
“It wasn’t that I could never talk.” Imeras paused as she walked into a large circular dome with R’lan. The walls were granite or marble, something along those lines. It was in the style of those old Victorian manors. The inside he noted, was a lot warmer due to the warm rosewoods and oak, entirely being made of wood. Everything was bright and yet not gaudy, a tasteful match that he suspected was her touch. She led him into a room, where a couple of low rising chairs in cool beige silk and glass tables were aligned in some fashion. She motioned for him to take a seat, and slipping out of her shoes slid into a… it was a hammock. He almost laughed. The entire room was a shade of beige, brown and warm creams, pale golden wood and a touch of dark amber. The hammock was made of the same twisted cream silk and as she started to swing slightly, sighing with pleasure an android walked into the room. “R’lan, please take a seat.” She stopped swinging and turned to him, the eccentric child in the hammock as she motioned to one of the higher couches that was perhaps the same level so that he could look into her eyes. “Is there anything you would like to drink? Eat?” she turned to the android, and smile. “Get us what ever the cook has prepared, something cold, I should think.” She mused slightly, and turned to resume her swinging. “It was Xavier who arranged this room. Pretty, isn’t it? She always had such professional taste.” She paused for a moment, closing her eyes and he leaned into his seat. She was talking, and who was he to complain? This place was nice, after all.”
“You were saying.” He prodded gently. “About speaking?”
“Oh…” she smiled. “Ah yes.
I was, how you say… not mutes, but conserving. People think it weird that a girl would never talk until her seventeenth birthday, but I did, once…
She was just a babe, a small round thing with dusky skin and large dark eyes that seemed to peer from beneath sleepy lids. She was not a perfect child, but she was to her parents, and that was ultimately what matters in the end. She curled her finger around empty space and for a moment smiled, relishing in the peace, which was odd for a child. She was perhaps two… three at the most, dark curling hair that was too short to be tied and yet long enough to curl into her eyes when she nodded her head. Nod she did, and then she opened her mouth, yawning..
Except what escaped was a perfect timbre of a note. It was small, stunningly strong and well pitched. What was odd, was what happened afterwards. The room glowed a silent pulse and the child she seemed to glow, a pulse in the air that was lit from something within her, something wild and free.
She closed her mouth, not liking the taste, the sensation.
Do you believe in magic, bard?”
“Yea….no…..sometimes.” his answer was one word in a way, one long elongated word as he paused. “Magic…” he frowned. “Earth doesn’t have magic.”
“No, it doesn’t.” she agreed. “I…” she paused, closed her mouth, narrowed her eyes. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me…” she whispered, her brows drawing together in a frown. “Most definitely, yes… secrets.”
Well…I couldn’t let you mess it up, could I? the amused tone of Ancith had him look around to note that there was nothing there, not great big hulk of a dragon…Silly fool. Rider of mine, I’m outside. Pretty place, and the locals can’t see me yet.
“You never told me you were a dragon rider.” Her voice was calm, understated, and yet when he looked into her eyes he saw something bright, furious in frenzy. “Well then, do you care to go for a ride? I believe my people are going to resign if your beauty terrorizes the kitchen maid for any longer.”
“A ride…” he scowled slightly, not at her, nor at Ancith but at the situation. It was moving fast, furious… and he tasted something bitter in his tongue, when heavy magic was being used against him. The current being too tough to fight, he did what every decent male rider would do. He decided to go with it. “Where do you have in mind, Imeras?”
“I know the most delightful place in Ireland… a patch of mountains that is impossible to reach without proper air cruisers…” her smile was fixed, polite. “Tell me my bard, what have you been keeping from me, and does your beauty know how to hide herself from people?”
“Herself?”
I’m afraid… Ancith sounded truly sheepish. I’m not alone.
Well… Tylar was getting worried.It was a green, a scary green… but not as scary as her rider that seemed to interrupt their thoughts. She’s getting cold as well… tell that woman that Tylar says Ireland sounds delightful, and that if she continues to call you her bard, she will send me after her. Which is a pity, since I hate eating candidates.
Out of his control. Completely and utterly out of his control.
“Her name was Xavier, and she was what I call, a friend. I don’t know why I spoke my first words with her, it was merely that I sensed something about her, a kinship. Her coloring was different from the rest. Although at this day and age, it is child play to change the colorings, I sensed… no… I knew that the dark blue hair and the eyes ringed in gold were hers, a natural factor as was my voice.
My voice… when I spoke that day, something happened. Some part of my recognized her, and a part of her… I don’t think that even now she knows what she had done that day, and for so many reasons Xavier is still so innocent to this world. It will have to change, soon… and I hope that wherever she has disappeared, she has learnt to deal with it.”
“You asked me about magic, why?” they were walking out towards a large grassy field where two dragons of Ryslen descent waited patiently. Tylar watched the woman with amused eyes, and turned to R’lan with an arched brow.
“Tylar.” He said simply. “This is Imeras, a…” he paused. “Candidate.”
“Now R’lan, it’s Novo.” She said simply. “She is a new novo, don’t tell me the terms…”
R’lan grinned. “It’s easier.” He said simply. “To stick with the old ones, for now. She knows.” He stopped. “knew Jorge.” He paused, casting a sidelong glance towards the Spanish descendent and shrugged. Tylar would know what he meant, it was one of the reasons that they were so close to begin with.
“You must be…” her voice was rich, low and she smiled. It was an effortless smile, truly friendly. “His…” she paused, frowning. “wife? Mate?” she shrugged. “Terms from other worlds are not easy to keep track of.”
Tylar watched her with interest. “This version of Earth is not known for its world travels, in fact I don’t think it’s aware of the existence of other worlds. So how do you…”
She smiled. “There us a slight error in what you say.” She said simply. “The powerful here do know of the existence of worlds, but to be specific, it knows of two. Three, in a way. Except it’s kept quiet, because these people are powerful… and yet their power is not natural.” Again, a careless shrug. “Although if you consider magic natural, then I guess they are.”
“Oh?”
“This world runs co habitually with three others, the world of the mages, the world of the fae and the world of the elves. This is a balance between the three, a place which is used sometimes as a hideout, a sanctuary, or a prison. I…” she hesitated, and for a moment appeared pained. “I have never visited the other worlds, and strictly it is impossible to gain access until you know what to look for… that is why I’ve lost track of Xavier, because no one can penetrate the words unless they are welcomed, or part of blood.”
“This Xavier. Who is… who is she?”
Imeras developed a dreamy look on her face. “Sbe is friend.” She said softly, quietly. “She is leader, queen, king, what ever you might call her… she is sister… and she is the final child of the treaty, the child of peace.” She smiled briefly. “It is a long… a long complicated story, one I do not wish to convey at this moment.” she arched a brow. “Yet I thought you were here to see me.” She teased.
“We are.” Tylar answered with all seriousness. “I suppose then… you know why we are here?”
“A candidate.” She said simply, so simply. “I saw you in my dreams… you are here to take me back as a candidate… so that my task is made more simple.”
“Task?
“To final Xavier, of course.”
She spoke, screamed and she sighed. Her voice was a pleasant one, rather magical and addictive in a way, but there was nothing else to it. A man came to visit her one-day, a man who called himself Valden di Omocio, who called himself a friend of Xavier’s. He had taught her that day, how to harness this power, this gift.
“One day you will need to use it as a power.” He stated softly. “As a weapon against others, we don’t want you to strain your weapon before it is needed, do we?”
She hadn’t understand what he meant, what he was trying to tell her, but she had nodded, had agreed merely because he had dancing eyes and because he was so kind.
“It’ll be a secret between the three of us.” Valden smiled as he said so, a gentle smile like soft spring rain. “Between you, me and Xavier. We will keep it a secret until one day when the world has the right to know…”
Know what?
Except… except it wasn’t supposed to remain a secret, it wasn’t suppose to remain hidden…
“This is a beautiful place.” Tylar commented as she looked around.
“Isn’t it?” she smiled. “I love the way it seems so magical… so different from the harsh realities of life. It is perhaps one of the few remaining natural sections of land that hasn’t been tamed by humans or locked away as some sort of reserve.”
“Magic…” Tylar shook her head. “Why is it that you are a singer now?”
“A vocalist?”
She waved an impatient hand, words were not something so precious to her, as it was to debaters or senators.
“It’s because it was suppose to remain a secret… and we all know that secrets are never kept.”
Imeras watched with annoyance the way Xavier was laughing at something the blue boy said. They were the same coloring, almost and from the moment he had arrived, she had appeared happier… more content with life. Downing the beer as if it was mere water she aimed another dirty glance at their direction. Blue boy was already a hit at their school, and not only that… he was an angel when it came to personalities. He was perfect enough that she didn’t feel bad about the curses dancing in her mind, nor the insults she managed to hurl. Letting out a soft growl of disgust, she turned towards the bar for another drink.
“Absolutely disgusting.” Her voice was harsh enough, her control weak enough that something seemed to spill through her words, something dark and angry, something powerful. An empathy winced at the sudden attack of jealousy from some unknown source, and she watched this wince with grim satisfaction.
“He had been her twin brother, the one reputed to have been dead. She had saved him you see, she had freed his soul… but I was jealous, I was jealous because she had been mine, and this blue boy…” her voice was touched with regret. “Arrived out of nowhere and stole him from me.”
At the regret within her voice, Tylar’s senses sharpened. Good… good? “You sound…” she said softly. “As if you regret something… did you…” she wondered if this candidate was supposed to stand for the clutch after all. “Did you do something…”
“Evil? Dastardly?” her eyes seemed unfocused due to memory, dull due to a type of pain. “Did I kill him?” she turned for a moment, staring Tylar into her eyes and watching for something, a sign, a sense. Suddenly she laughed. It was a bark of laughter that sounded almost inhumane, and Tylar shuddered slightly. “I wanted to.” She confessed. “But I didn’t.”
Candidates must exhibit purity, innocence, originality, or other traits that indicate inherent goodness.
“Then?”
For a moment something seemed to pass over her face, something crass, something crude like a defense mechanism that finally managed to reboot itself. “Then.” Except it melted, melted away to sheer memory. “I sang.” She smiled, and yet it was a bitter smile. “It doesn’t seem like much, does it? Oh… but it was. That’s why I’m searching for her- I broke my only promise to the only person I loved, and I never had a chance to talk to her about It.”
What makes him think he’s so great? Blue boy… just because they share the same blood, it doesn’t mean anything, because it’s I who share the same memories, the same feelings… he should know better then to think the thought was interrupted by a brief hiccup. to think that he could just walk in here and walk right out without lifting a finger with my friend in his arms.
“Xavier.” She suddenly called out, her voice hoarse, different from it’s usual melodious tone. Xavier looked up, the startled black gold depths gleaming with amusement, identical to the lazy eyes that turned to her a moment after. Her face seemed to shut down as she saw them together, saw the akin likeness that was disturbing and yet so wonderful. She saw the similarities, the blood and realized…
Shit. They were always close… closer then I will ever be to her.
“I want to congratulate you.” Her voice was still hoarse, but there was something else, something mending and something breaking that had Valden raise his head slightly at the sound of it. “Blue boy.” She said briefly, aiming an arrogant bow that was slightly off kilter. “Congratulations for finally finding my friend.” She paused. “For bonding with your sister.” Xavier smiled, an uncertain smile as if she did not know what to make of this, this sudden… closeness. “I think.” She said slowly. “This stupendous occasion asks for a celebration of sorts, a calling…” and then she moved away as quickly as she arrived, turned to the stage where a lone drummer occupied the dark tiles. Climbing up, she watched Valden’s eyes widen at this, and Xavier’s narrow with suspicion. “A song.” She said softly.
“Why… why was a song so important?” she could not help herself for asking. “Why did both of you care so much? I understand keeping magic a secret from the world, but the effects were not unpleasant, were they? So why?”
“She never forgave me…” she said softly. “For singing, not the singing itself but because of the fact that I was singing, that I had broken a promise… you see, she was a strange person, she valued her friends, her own word so much, so the fact that I had…” and she laughed, a sad laugh. “I could tell you the whole made up lie about honor, but the truth? They say….people say that a song is a powerful thing, they underestimated the truth that was lying before their nose… I sang, and that disturbed her that I would go against her wishes… the reason she hasn’t forgiven me? Because I did more then sing. I challenged him; her little brother and she couldn’t stand it. I challenged him and demanded that she make a choice…” her eyes were naked, and there was nothing within them. “She chose him.”
The drummer watched her with surprise, and yet he grinned when she winked at him. Tall and slender, dressed in a dark peek a boo dress; curling blonde hair tumbled down her shoulders died ebon at the roots. Her large brown eyes blinked slowly as she studied the room and when they fell upon Xavier, upon blue boy she saluted them.
“This song.” She said softly. “Goes to my…” and then her lips quirked into an ironic smile. “Friends.”
She sang a song she did not know she would understand, it was deep and throaty except it seemed to reach all the high notes, the notes she reached effortlessly. It started off slowly, backed only by the steady beats from the drums, her voice starting off in a low throaty murmur. When she sang, she eased the control she had kept so tightly around her own voice and felt something free inside her. It was more then relinquishing control, it was… being set free. For when she sang her voice began to climb a steep crescendo, a deep tenor and a high soprano with emotion, so much emotion. It was angry and yet it was subtly filled with so much passion, the delight of being able to sing that it was… beautiful.
Then it started to sing, to really sing for she stared into the eyes of the blue boy, into the eyes of Xavier and the challenge slipped into her song, a brash, arrogant note that seemed so confident, so free that for a moment it seemed as if no one existed except her for, for her dancing brown eyes and the voice that seemed to call for your soul. It was like trying to capture an angel singing, part of it was pulling at your heart, the other was pushing at your mind and then you realized she was no angel, but she was human, she was a creature of the earth as you or me.
She sang and the drummer began to grin, quickening the beat and yet allowing her the full control of the song. The challenge went unanswered, for it grew until the song seemed to be a plea, a passionate plea that had people dancing to the rhythm and yet it was more then that- people also sang to it, not knowing the words they sang but needing to let go out this emotion somehow, any way.
Abruptly, people noticed the small delicate boned young woman get up from her seat, her black gold eyes flashing with something as she stared into the eyes of the singer. They noted this exchange, and then they noted her reach for the youth sitting behind her, and as they got up together, they sensed the slight hesitation in her singing before the two left the building.
“She left me for her blue brother, and in return I left her for my career. We still lived together, the economic side of our relationship was still strong but…” she smiled sadly. “The day after my song an agent managed to track me down… and I developed a name for myself… Valden… he wasn’t proud, but neither was he angry, I suppose he understand why I sang, and that to me… there was no greater freedom then to be able to use my voice in such situations… I became an idol after that day, a vocalist, a singer. She? We never talked… but we were always near each other… her brother never looked me in the eye after all.. that weak soul… I believe he was scared of me…” her laugh was weak, bitter. “To tell you the truth…sometimes I wanted to kill him, except…”
“Except you are actually good.”
Imeras looked up with surprise at this, and her eyes smiled slightly. “Good? You mean… I’m not evil. I didn’t kill him.”
“No…I mean you are good… your not innocent, your not pure.” She laughed. “Hell, I don’t think I can call you virginal, but… you are actually a good person, even when you try to hide it with that over personified mask of yours.”
“Good.” She mused slightly. “Because I didn’t kill him?”
“Because you cared too much for him, even as you hated him to kill him.”
“I suppose…I suppose if you look at it that way, I am, huh?”
A week later, a candidate arrived at Ryslen Weyr. She was a tall slender creature, beautiful in an emaciated way with dusky skin and brown eyes. Her hair, it was long and dark brown, curling and so natural. She was, natural. There was nothing that spoke of the brash young singer, for in her place was a woman, a woman who was searching for forgiveness.
Imeras was watching one of the other candidates, except this candidate was different; she was not for this flurry, but for something else. With ebon eyes, it was said that she was a goddess, except to her, she looked human. They were watching each other, appraising each other.
“Forgiveness.” It was the goddess who spoke first. “For what?”
“For asking someone to make a choice.” She paused. “Do dragons… are they really…”
“Yes.” She replied quietly. “I’ve been searching for one all my life… should you…should you bond, I believe that they will help you search for this person.” There was a sad smile on her face. “Have you heard the stories?”
“Stories?”
“The previous year, there was this angel… she too is searching for someone she loves… I believe your stories are different, but she’s still searching, except her bond has lessened the pain. Why don’t… why don’t you speak to her?”
She smiled slightly. “Someone else… what’s her name?”
“Shiso. I believe she’d like to meet you. She knows this creepy old man” the goddess let out a short laugh. “Who would love to hear you sing.”
Her eyes widened at this. “How do you…”
“I’m a goddess.” She stated simply. “I know these things.” She smiled. “I know… sooner or later you’ll find this young woman, and you’ll find out that there was nothing to be asked forgiveness for…”
“What are you doing?” there seemed to be a note of disbelief in R’lan’s voice as he watched the young candidate tug half heartedly at a chair. No… it was more like a gigantic mush the vibrant shade of orange. “Someone could go blind just stepping in here.” it was the candidate quarters…or whatever it was called now. Because of the variety of candidates that arrived at Ryslen, more rooms had been added, separate ones, bunks, the old fashioned kind, generally so that the candidates could feel at home. For some reason Imeras had managed to get one for herself, a small room to the side that was really part of the original candidate quarters – it had been sealed off after someone had accidentally –on purpose- possessed another candidate and then had managed to wreck havoc. It had been a simple, ordinary room with beige walls and a cot… “It should be against to rules to add so much color…”
The candidates were made to feel at home, that is… they weren’t waited hand and foot, but they were allowed to bring their own furniture, their own things. Jeyann had said politely ‘make yourself feel at home’… and this girl had taken her word.
The walls had remained the same, tacked over with swaths of silk in shades of rich gold and crimson with purple and some hints of cinnamon. The floor was covered in some white fur that he recognized from her previous home, the bed was covered in thick sheets of bronze and khaki and most of all… there was that gigantic bright orange mush.
“What is that?”
“It’s a chair.” She sounded injured, and as she looked around the room, she winced. “Ouch.”
“Ouch, being a euphemism.”
“That doesn’t count as one.”
“In this circumstance…”
At the sound of shocked laughter, both turned to see the angel from the previous flurry standing there, gazing at the room in amusement. “Ouch.”
“I’m not that bad…”
“I guess when they gave you your voice, they took away your taste?”
“Oh, don’t be so mean…Shiso, welcome.” She smiled, and then scowled angrily at R’lan. “Now if you don’t appreciate my work of art…”
R’lan grinned. “I do.” He said, raising his hands in defense. “Your…art. Before I leave you two alone, I was told to tell you that there is a small after party-ish thing being held for the candidates, you know, what with it snowing so much these days and all, to improve spirits, quell discontent, and all that stuff.” Actually, Jeyann just wanted to see more of this Christmas food the Earthlings were talking about. A shipment of mistletoe was supposed to be arriving as well.
“Stuff.”
“She wants to know if you’d like to sing.” He hesitated. “Actually… I do. It’s been a while since…” since you’ve acted like the woman I first met, and not the candidate I’m seeing. He wanted to say, but it wasn’t necessarily a complaint. It was as if she had passed a milestone in her life, like a snake shedding it’s skin.
“I do, actually.” She leaned out the window. “It’s almost Christmas.” She said softly. “It’d be nice to sing…”
“Have yourself a merry little Christmas.” The words were crooned even as the snow started to fall gently out the windows, hard enough so that everything was soon slowly being covered in white, and yet lightly enough that it was safe, that children played outside even against the warnings of the adults. She sang softly, slowly with no hint of anything except for that slow dreamy croon of a lullaby due to the snow, the falling snow as she sang for the first time ever since that confession.
“She’s wonderful.” Jeyann commented as she leaned closer to the warmth K’el. “It’s nice.”
“It is.” She felt his response more then heard it through the slight purr like texture rolling from under her cheek, and she smiled. “All this… all this is very nice… a candidate for the third flurry.” She looked out the window, noting the snow and the way it seemed to contrast with the warmth of the notes playing within. It was to be the third flurry… and who knew what it pertained?
