Post by vendredi on Aug 8, 2006 11:05:54 GMT -5
Vendredi sat quietly before the little fire, too stunned to move. The beach, the sound of the waves, the palm trees waving shadows beneath the night sky.....it could not be, but it was. The island that was her home as far back as she could remember, the place where she and the man.....
"Has it come to this, girl?" The voice was achingly familiar, and she scrambled to her feet, her eyes wide with disbelief as she saw a figure step into the firelight. It was him, whole and alive, a wistful smile creasing his sun-darkened face. Her legs gave way, and she sank slowly to her knees, her mouth open, but no sound emerging. He dropped crosslegged beside her, his blue eyes narrowing as he examined her closely.
"You've grown, Vendredi," he said, frowning thoughtfullly, "but not the way I would have hoped."
Her heart twisted in her chest. I had no chance to, you were not there...... "How are you here?" she managed, her voice hoarse with emotion. "I do not understand."
"De same way I am heah, chil'." Another stepped into the firelight, another she thought never to see again. Ki'tala crouched troll-fashion on her other side, his keen eyes boring into her as though they could see into her very soul. Her head spun as she tried to take it all in......Ki'tala had never been to the island; she had met him after her 'rescue'.....
"Do you not unnahstan'?" Ki'tala asked, a brief grin deepening the lines on his face; she knew he was old when she left, for only great age can overcome a troll's gift of regeneration, but she began to wonder....."Am I dead?" she said, dreading the answer.
"Not yet," the man responded, "but you are close. You needed us, so we came."
Ki'tala shook his head, his eyes on the Man. "I tried to dig de hate from her heart, but it was buried fah too deep. She nevah fo'gave dose who kilt ya, and ye can see what became o' dat."
The Man eyed her soberly. "Only a handful of trolls were responsible for my death, and they thought they were protecting you. Why do you hate them all?"
Her vision blurred as long-buried grief surfaced. "You told me how evil they were!" she cried out, wrenching at her hair as the pain washed over her. "You told me, and you were right! They killed you!"
The Man reached out, his hand on her shoulder, but she could not feel it; a glimmer of understanding began to pierce her clouded thoughts. "You came back for me," she whispered.
"Of course I did." His face was stern, affronted. "You are my daughter, and always will be. Yet you hide your human side from the world, as though you are ashamed of how you were raised."
"I had to! The children hated me for it!" She clenched her fists as painful memories flared.
"So dere we are," Ki'tala concluded, slapping his knee. "You can' be troll, 'cause you blame dem all fo' de deat' of dis man, and you can' be human, cause dose you hate will hate you back." He fixed her with a familiar glare, the one she had earned when she had not listened as a child. "Do ya not see how ridic'lous it is?"
The Man reached out, his fingers gently cupping her chin, turning her to face him, and despite his ethereal state, she could feel him, feel the love she had missed for so long.
"Hear me now," he said, his eyes holding hers like a rabbit in a trap. "I do not hate all trolls; I do not even hate the ones who killed me; they took you home, and raised you as their own, as I did when I found you. I have fought many trolls in my time; vicious, bloodthirsty creatures - but I have seen humans behave in ways that are just as vile. Do not close your heart because you think I am gone, for I shall always be with you." He smiled, and her chest ached with a love she thought long dead. "Do not refuse to live because of me."
Ki'tala nodded. "Dis man have big wisdom," he said as she turned to him, the only other person she had ever loved. "I t'ink, if I 'ad met 'im, I would 'ave liked 'im." He reached out with a ghostly hand and tapped her on the nose, and again, somehow, she could feel it. "You are not all troll, littal one, an' you are not all human; you are de bes' of bot' worl's. You know why you dyin'?" She shook her head, and he continued. "De curse is bad Voodoo; it feeds on dat which eats ya from inside. You hate who you are, an' so de curse grows strongah. Dat is why we came, to teach ya de errah of yo' ways."
The Man nodded. "There is no need to hate - others, or yourself. I miss the laughing, mischievous girl I once taught, and I know she is still there. Let her out."
"Ya," Ki'tala agreed. "Be proud of who y'are. We are."
Vendredi looked from one to the other, her face shining even as she wept. Then, like a songflower opening its first petal, a small laugh broke through the tears, a laugh that seemed to crack the shell of grief and hate as her raptor had once split his egg to make his way into the world. She laughed again, louder and stronger, and as she laughed, the weight on her heart lifted, and a joy she had not known for years filled her. Her fathers stood before her, smiling, and she could feel their presence within her, their love a healing balm on her inner wounds. The island began to fade, and her happiness faltered, but the Man and Ki'tala waved, and she smiled back, content. She felt a rushing sensation, as though shooting up through deep water to the surface, her head spinning, her lungs bursting....
Vendredi opened her eyes with a gasp. She lay on a hammock, the sound of waves nearby, the morning sun slanting through the lattices of the inn walls, and she recognized the upper floor of the Revantusk Inn. Yagrek and Kerrig rose from their hammocks at the sound.
"Sister?" Yagrek said, drawing closer. "Are you well?"
She took a deep breath of the salty air, and smiled at him as she swung her legs around to sit up. "Brother, I am better than I have been for a long time," she said, grinning like a child. Yagrek peered at her searchingly.
"I think there is more to this than meets the eye," he mused, casting a significant glance at Kerrig. The warrior shrugged matter-of-factly.
"If she says she is well, then it is so," he declared. "Are you ready to return to Jintha'Alor?"
"Soon," she said, standing and stretching like a cat. "But first, I must pray." She sank slowly to her knees, and closed her eyes, casting a prayer to the Undying One, her soul clean and open for the first time in years. She prayed as the sun cast its warmth down on her, and waited, patient and at peace. There was no vision; she saw nothing, heard nothing, but deep within, she felt the fire in her soul flare, not the raging red flame of hate, but a clean white flame of purpose, of resolve and determination, a fire that did not consume, but shaped, made stronger, as the forge fire shapes and strengthens the sharpest sword. The last of her doubts vanished, and she lifted her head, her eyes shining.
"She accepts me," she whispered, her face alight.
Yagrek, who knelt in prayer nearby, looked up. "Sister?"
She beamed at him. "The Undying One. I passed the test." She stood, and lifted her chin. "I do not need hate to make me strong."
Yagrek smiled approvingly. "You never did, sister - but I am glad that you have discovered it."
Kerrig, sitting crosslegged nearby, stood. "Do we now go to Jintha'Alor? There is much for us to do there still."
Vendredi cast an exasperated glance at the stoic warrior. "Yes, Kerrig. There is one last thing to do though....a swim!" She wriggled out of her clothes, and ran headlong down the rickety stairs, her laughter a trail of joy behind her.
Yagrek exchanged a look with Kerrig. "I think this is not the Vendredi we fought alongside yesterday."
Kerrig frowned, puzzled. "It is not? Is it another troll, disguised as she?" He loosened his axe in his sheath. "Should I fetch her for questioning?"
Yagrek shook his head with a wry smile. "No, no.....that is not what I meant. It is just that.....never mind. A good swim would be welcome. Come, my friend - you could do with a wash as well." He eyed the sky thoughtfully. "The wind has changed, I believe."
Kerrig sniffed at his clothes as they made their way down to the beach, then lifted a hand to feel the breeze. "That should not hamper our task in any way."
Yagrek eyed him keenly. "Perhaps, my friend, perhaps. But it will, I think, shape our destiny." He stared thoughtfully into the distance for a moment, then shucked his clothes and waded into the surf.
"Has it come to this, girl?" The voice was achingly familiar, and she scrambled to her feet, her eyes wide with disbelief as she saw a figure step into the firelight. It was him, whole and alive, a wistful smile creasing his sun-darkened face. Her legs gave way, and she sank slowly to her knees, her mouth open, but no sound emerging. He dropped crosslegged beside her, his blue eyes narrowing as he examined her closely.
"You've grown, Vendredi," he said, frowning thoughtfullly, "but not the way I would have hoped."
Her heart twisted in her chest. I had no chance to, you were not there...... "How are you here?" she managed, her voice hoarse with emotion. "I do not understand."
"De same way I am heah, chil'." Another stepped into the firelight, another she thought never to see again. Ki'tala crouched troll-fashion on her other side, his keen eyes boring into her as though they could see into her very soul. Her head spun as she tried to take it all in......Ki'tala had never been to the island; she had met him after her 'rescue'.....
"Do you not unnahstan'?" Ki'tala asked, a brief grin deepening the lines on his face; she knew he was old when she left, for only great age can overcome a troll's gift of regeneration, but she began to wonder....."Am I dead?" she said, dreading the answer.
"Not yet," the man responded, "but you are close. You needed us, so we came."
Ki'tala shook his head, his eyes on the Man. "I tried to dig de hate from her heart, but it was buried fah too deep. She nevah fo'gave dose who kilt ya, and ye can see what became o' dat."
The Man eyed her soberly. "Only a handful of trolls were responsible for my death, and they thought they were protecting you. Why do you hate them all?"
Her vision blurred as long-buried grief surfaced. "You told me how evil they were!" she cried out, wrenching at her hair as the pain washed over her. "You told me, and you were right! They killed you!"
The Man reached out, his hand on her shoulder, but she could not feel it; a glimmer of understanding began to pierce her clouded thoughts. "You came back for me," she whispered.
"Of course I did." His face was stern, affronted. "You are my daughter, and always will be. Yet you hide your human side from the world, as though you are ashamed of how you were raised."
"I had to! The children hated me for it!" She clenched her fists as painful memories flared.
"So dere we are," Ki'tala concluded, slapping his knee. "You can' be troll, 'cause you blame dem all fo' de deat' of dis man, and you can' be human, cause dose you hate will hate you back." He fixed her with a familiar glare, the one she had earned when she had not listened as a child. "Do ya not see how ridic'lous it is?"
The Man reached out, his fingers gently cupping her chin, turning her to face him, and despite his ethereal state, she could feel him, feel the love she had missed for so long.
"Hear me now," he said, his eyes holding hers like a rabbit in a trap. "I do not hate all trolls; I do not even hate the ones who killed me; they took you home, and raised you as their own, as I did when I found you. I have fought many trolls in my time; vicious, bloodthirsty creatures - but I have seen humans behave in ways that are just as vile. Do not close your heart because you think I am gone, for I shall always be with you." He smiled, and her chest ached with a love she thought long dead. "Do not refuse to live because of me."
Ki'tala nodded. "Dis man have big wisdom," he said as she turned to him, the only other person she had ever loved. "I t'ink, if I 'ad met 'im, I would 'ave liked 'im." He reached out with a ghostly hand and tapped her on the nose, and again, somehow, she could feel it. "You are not all troll, littal one, an' you are not all human; you are de bes' of bot' worl's. You know why you dyin'?" She shook her head, and he continued. "De curse is bad Voodoo; it feeds on dat which eats ya from inside. You hate who you are, an' so de curse grows strongah. Dat is why we came, to teach ya de errah of yo' ways."
The Man nodded. "There is no need to hate - others, or yourself. I miss the laughing, mischievous girl I once taught, and I know she is still there. Let her out."
"Ya," Ki'tala agreed. "Be proud of who y'are. We are."
Vendredi looked from one to the other, her face shining even as she wept. Then, like a songflower opening its first petal, a small laugh broke through the tears, a laugh that seemed to crack the shell of grief and hate as her raptor had once split his egg to make his way into the world. She laughed again, louder and stronger, and as she laughed, the weight on her heart lifted, and a joy she had not known for years filled her. Her fathers stood before her, smiling, and she could feel their presence within her, their love a healing balm on her inner wounds. The island began to fade, and her happiness faltered, but the Man and Ki'tala waved, and she smiled back, content. She felt a rushing sensation, as though shooting up through deep water to the surface, her head spinning, her lungs bursting....
Vendredi opened her eyes with a gasp. She lay on a hammock, the sound of waves nearby, the morning sun slanting through the lattices of the inn walls, and she recognized the upper floor of the Revantusk Inn. Yagrek and Kerrig rose from their hammocks at the sound.
"Sister?" Yagrek said, drawing closer. "Are you well?"
She took a deep breath of the salty air, and smiled at him as she swung her legs around to sit up. "Brother, I am better than I have been for a long time," she said, grinning like a child. Yagrek peered at her searchingly.
"I think there is more to this than meets the eye," he mused, casting a significant glance at Kerrig. The warrior shrugged matter-of-factly.
"If she says she is well, then it is so," he declared. "Are you ready to return to Jintha'Alor?"
"Soon," she said, standing and stretching like a cat. "But first, I must pray." She sank slowly to her knees, and closed her eyes, casting a prayer to the Undying One, her soul clean and open for the first time in years. She prayed as the sun cast its warmth down on her, and waited, patient and at peace. There was no vision; she saw nothing, heard nothing, but deep within, she felt the fire in her soul flare, not the raging red flame of hate, but a clean white flame of purpose, of resolve and determination, a fire that did not consume, but shaped, made stronger, as the forge fire shapes and strengthens the sharpest sword. The last of her doubts vanished, and she lifted her head, her eyes shining.
"She accepts me," she whispered, her face alight.
Yagrek, who knelt in prayer nearby, looked up. "Sister?"
She beamed at him. "The Undying One. I passed the test." She stood, and lifted her chin. "I do not need hate to make me strong."
Yagrek smiled approvingly. "You never did, sister - but I am glad that you have discovered it."
Kerrig, sitting crosslegged nearby, stood. "Do we now go to Jintha'Alor? There is much for us to do there still."
Vendredi cast an exasperated glance at the stoic warrior. "Yes, Kerrig. There is one last thing to do though....a swim!" She wriggled out of her clothes, and ran headlong down the rickety stairs, her laughter a trail of joy behind her.
Yagrek exchanged a look with Kerrig. "I think this is not the Vendredi we fought alongside yesterday."
Kerrig frowned, puzzled. "It is not? Is it another troll, disguised as she?" He loosened his axe in his sheath. "Should I fetch her for questioning?"
Yagrek shook his head with a wry smile. "No, no.....that is not what I meant. It is just that.....never mind. A good swim would be welcome. Come, my friend - you could do with a wash as well." He eyed the sky thoughtfully. "The wind has changed, I believe."
Kerrig sniffed at his clothes as they made their way down to the beach, then lifted a hand to feel the breeze. "That should not hamper our task in any way."
Yagrek eyed him keenly. "Perhaps, my friend, perhaps. But it will, I think, shape our destiny." He stared thoughtfully into the distance for a moment, then shucked his clothes and waded into the surf.