Path: netcom.com!netcomsv!decwrl!uunet!europa.eng.gtefsd.com!howland.reston.ans.net!newsserver.jvnc.net!igor.rutgers.edu!aramis.rutgers.edu!kjc From: kjc@aramis.rutgers.edu (Kelly J. Cooper) Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: [MG] Flying Home Keywords: a little denouement Message-ID: Date: 20 Aug 93 19:20:43 GMT Organization: LCSR @ Rutgers University Lines: 212 [Admin: Helped along by Bernie Hsiung; much thanks to Andrea Evans for Kadrys' appearance] I took your urgent whisper Stole the arc of a white wing Rode like foam on the river of pity Turned its tide to strength Healed the hole that ripped in living -Suzanne Vega "Book of Dreams" * * * >A woman in a simple white dress stood in the doorway framed by the >light spilling into the room. Her eyes were fixed on the bird, which >had struggled to its feet in Jameson's lap and stood, both wings >spread out toward her in a heraldic, formal gesture, a shining arc of >plumes. She smiled sadly at the bird. > >Then, the woman looked upward to Jameson's face, and raised a quiet, >melodious voice into the silence. > >"My name is Nireen. You would be Dariel's friend. I have come to >take him home..." Jameson slipped her hands under the bird and stood very slowly, cautiously, letting the bird maintain its awkward balance on her palms. Her expression was both hopeful and bleak as she took a hesitant step toward the woman. Softly, she said "Hello. I'm Jameson..." Nireen nodded in acknowledgment. Glancing to one side, Jameson noted that Kadrys had melted into the shadows. The woman followed her gaze and said kindly, "Come on out, Kadrys. I seldom bite." She gave him a soft smile, then looked back expectantly at Jameson. Jameson took another step, hesitated a moment then held the bird out toward Nireen. Her hands were not quite trembling. Nireen put her hands out and the bird half stepped, half fluttered into her embrace. Folding him in her arms, she held him against her heart for a quiet moment before looking up at Jameson with shining eyes. "Thank you for caring for him. There is so little left. And his eyes... It must have been and will be difficult. Oh, my brother." Nireen paused, in grief or in thought, then looked back to Jameson, meeting green eyes with blue. "Did he share himself with anyone else, while he was here?" Jameson looked frightened as she shook her head and whispered, "Only me." Nireen looked at her steadily for a moment. "Jameson, what do you fear?" Looking at the floor Jameson replied softly, "Right now? It seems like everything." Tenderly holding the bird against her body with one arm, Nireen reached out and, with a gentle finger under her chin, tilted Jameson's face back up. "You have nothing to fear, here and now." Her voice rang with quiet authority in the stillness. "I promise you this." Releasing Jameson's chin, she said in a softer tone, "Show me." With hope in her eyes that was almost painful to see, Jameson spread her hands apart and the images began to flow. * * * From where Kadrys stood, it seemed like the two women-who-were-more flickered, went clear with shadowy outlines, disappeared and reappeared in vivid colors. They moved without moving and around them, he caught glimpses of things. A white wing. A sword. Matte black eyes. * * * Vortex of stars stretch past sanity. Sent. Sand, death, destruction. Called. Textures, tastes, expressions. Glass all around. Time. Light. Water, waves, wood. Stillness and motion. Freedom. Gently. Warmth, touch, colors. Friend. Light, feather, wings. False. Loss, sorrow, wind. Twisted. Lost. Waiting. Pinwheels. Light, laugh, watching. Trap. Light, dark, sound. Tearing, scream, music. Light. Bread. Slow, safe, battle. Choice, option, hooks. Heart. Awakening, dark, fade. Remember, heal, hold. Darkness. Comfort. Time. Light. The images shifted like loose sand and dreams, becoming one thing, being many things at once... a black cloth stitched with sky blue thread, flowing to a river, laughing. Dead eyes, black marbles in a game where the prize was a green blue planet. Wings of an eagle, wings of a child, wings of a white bird, fighting to fly in the slipstream. The paintings from her room at the Lighthouse from a different now. A wall of stone. Some stones glowed, some fell apart, some looked charred. Nireen, walking carefully on the sand, picking up certain shells. Kardia, unraveling cloth and handing her the bright threads. Ar'Elya, picking up white feathers, leaving the gray and black on the wooden floor. Dasham, choosing the clear rods, ignoring those made of colored glass. * * * Jameson's eyes drifted back into focus and she took a deep breath. Her mind held the image of a cup, full but never overflowing. Standing with her arms hung loosely at her sides, she looked at Nireen, who stood midway between concern and wonder. "'The shapes a bright container may contain.' More than one should have to carry, perhaps." She smiled at Jameson. "I have reflected images from your tangle that once belonged to Dariel, so that they may belong to him again. Thank you, Jameson. For all your help." She held out her hand, palm forward, and Jameson grasped it, entwining their fingers and a tight grip as she looked into Nireen's eyes. Blue eyes. Like the sky. Or a vividly clear sea. Wide, brilliantly deep. Stretching across the horizon. Touching the tops of mountains. Edging almost blindingly white sand. Filling everything with brightness. Everywhere. The mountains on the horizon resolved themselves to a fortress. Huge, strong, but also inviting. Open. The sun seemed to be setting behind it, shining out through the windows and doors. She walked in and could hear something, somewhere, ringing... like bells and struck steel and music. Everything was filled with brightness, no matter what color. The light shown through everything, highlighting details instead of blinding. Corridors blurred by and she stood before a giant forge / a desk / a workbench / a telescope where a man woman looked out with far-seeing eyes. She realized the bird was on her shoulder when it lightly brushed her cheek with its feathers, then flew from her to the strong hands of the being before her. Something within her knew that it flew to the Keeper. She stood watching as the Keeper held out his hands to the bird. She realized his hands were so large they could completely hide the bird between them. The Keeper cupped his palms around the bird and leaned forward, almost in greeting, and began to blow gently on his hands, as if he were warming them. He opened them again and the bird spread its wings to their full span. It seemed slightly larger, and almost impossibly whiter. Unsteady in his Master's hands, the bird turned slowly to look at her through the blue eyes of Dariel. The Keeper turned as well and there was a flash as he too smiled, and suddenly, with the sound of wings, Jameson was standing on a wooden floor, looking into the smiling face of Nireen. Jameson returned her smile. "Clear and bright your path, Walker," Nireen said, then she was gone. Slightly bewildered, Jameson looked around. The room was still, dark, and quiet but for the muted music of Kadrys' blood. She looked up and her eyes were barely able to pick out his profile where he stood, against the wall. Turning slowly, she moved to the bed and sat down carefully. Many of her aches were gone, but she still felt stiff. And, abruptly weary. Kadrys moved forward, looking oddly hesitant, and sat back in his chair. He looked at Jameson's face, much more peaceful than it had so far in the short time he'd known her, and smiled to himself. "I'm going to go to sleep now." Jameson said softly to him. "I will probably sleep a long time." Her lips quirked slightly, "I'm sure you must have your own life to return to, after my interruption." Kadrys leaned forward and smoothed away her expression with his fingertips, shaking his head. "My life is what happens, from one day to the next." He smiled, "Nonetheless, I will leave you to your dreams. I hope they are pleasant." He held her gaze a moment, then stood and was gone almost as quickly as Nireen. Alone, Jameson eased herself down into bed, pulled the blankets over her, and fell asleep almost immediately. But first she touched the white feather in her hand lightly to her lips. * * * [Postscript] The white-robed woman appeared just inside a hermetically sealed chamber in the Generican Mage Guild, a chamber that very few knew of and even fewer were allowed into. She leaned over an opaque, human-sized container -- perhaps a casket or a coffin. Or a cocoon. The portion that she placed her hand upon became transparent like glass, revealing the face of a man whose body appeared different from every angle. His skin bore strange markings and scars. He was as silent as a statue, without pulse and without breath. The woman studied him carefully, then she pressed her hand into the transparent section, and it flowed aside like water. Her fingers brushed the man's face, bathing him in a wash of lights where they touched. Then she stepped back and away, and vanished. As she withdrew her hand, the container returned to its original material. The body of Archmage Nescie y'Ridalen shifted slightly and began to dream of butterflies. --- Thanks for everything, Bernie. Kelly J. Cooper kjc@cs.rutgers.edu