Tirval shifted slightly in his crouch next to the mare, one hand pressed lightly against her belly. She could see the power that flowed from him and into the mare, easing the birth of the colt and shoring up the strength of both animals, not that they needed it.
“Violet,” Lesara breathed the word softly, almost hesitant to break the fragile silence with human words, “He has violet eyes…”
Her brother looked up from where he was crouching, as he slowly rose and moved away from both colt and mare, leaving them to sort themselves out together, “I would more call it amethyst, Les.” A smug smile crept across his face, “A Night Mage. I win.”
Les huffed in annoyance, giving him a glare, “For now. Just wait until later though, brother dear.”
Another smug smile, wider this time, “Don’t worry, darling sister! I’ll make sure to find a nice little filly Mage for you.”
::I… I name…:: the mindvoice was faint, hesitant, and sounding different than any mindvoice that they had heard before.
Both of them blinked, their eyes slowly widening as they turned to stare at the colt.
::I name myself… Starlance.::
“By all the…”
“I think,” Tirval spoke smugly, apparently unfazed by the realization that the colt was fully telepathic, on top of being a Mage, “that little Starlance here is going to turn a few heads when he gets older.”
She groaned, knowing that she’d really have to think of something to take him down a few score pegs now, “Tir-val!”
“What?!” he merely smiled innocently, then went back to admiring ‘his’ colt.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________
Tirval paced in annoyance, glaring out the window at the wall of white that obscured everything beyond a few inches away from him.
His dratted sister was out in it, as if it was a mild spring night and not a cold winters night with a killer blizzard howling mercilessly. He wanted to be out and working with Starlance, not trapped inside and relegated to the library as one of the only areas that he could comfortably stay in for any length of time.
::Then come out with me, brother! I dare you!::
Tirval turned his head to glare in Lesara’s direction, though to any bystander, it looked like he was glaring at a wall of books, ::What do you have in mind, Lesara?::
::A challenge! To see who can survive the longest in this weather.::
::You’ve got to be kidding me!::
::Are you –chicken-, my twin? Afraid that you’ll lose? Hmmmmm?::
He snorted, eyes narrowing in anger, ::Of course not. Fine, I accept your challenge. We begin now.::
Exercising a little of his magic, he teleported himself to a side entrance of the keep, then slunk out it and closed it firmly behind him. The wind sliced at him, driving hard crystals of snow at the skin of his face, and into his eyes as well. Warmth was ripped away instantly, and he felt his temperature drop rapidly, knowing instinctively that he was in greater danger than he had ever been before.
Yet pride and vanity held him to the challenge, and he merely gritted his teeth and strode on, forcing his magic to shift the wind around him, so that he was walking in an island of calm. The fire of his magic burned brighter as he fanned it into life, returning warmth to his chilled limbs, as healing strength flowed from the core of his power, repairing any damage that had been done in the short moments before.
With a smirk, he strode on, ignoring how it all drained his power, merely confident in the knowledge that, since he had come out after his sister, he would easily last longer than she.
A belief that sank the second he noticed her, as she was standing, still as a statue, snow swirling around her, her hair and clothes whipped side to side by the wind that still clawed at her. Her head was tilted up, eyes closed, a faint smile curling her lips. She seemed… untouched. Completely. As if it truly –was- no colder to her than a mild spring night.
::Do you admit defeat, Tirv?:: Her mindvoice was smug, completely confident in her ability to survive hours longer within the storm.
Tirval glared darkly at her, then stubbornly stood his ground, ::Never.::
A shrug, ::Your fault, then.::
Lesara returned her body to stillness, eyes closed, welcoming the chill that the storm provided, a balm against all those too-hot summer days and nights that never ended, no matter how deep into the keep she retreated. It was a small thing for her, walking the storms that called her to them, basking in their chill, she could do so for hours on end without problem, though it appeared that her brother had never truly paid attention to what she did before.
Not that she had expected him too, he was much to busy fretting and pacing the winters away, longing for spring and the birth of new creatures for him to be fascinated by. It was rare that any of them could get him to settle down for any length of time during the winter.
She slit one eye open slightly, looking at him, then smirking, ::Are you sure you don’t want to give up? You’re looking rather blue there.::
He snarled, giving her a glare that would have made most people cower, ::I’m still good, Lesarakel.::
A shrug, as Lesara closed her eye once more, breathing deep of the freezing cold air, ::Whatever you say, my brother, whatever you say.:: A smug smirk curled the corners of her lips, ::I’ll just let it be known, though, that I’m searching for Ricarv’s The Universe set.::
Tirval gritted his teeth and gave her a scathing look, but said nothing as he turned on his heel and stalked back the way he had come. He jerked the door open and hauled it closed sharply, dropping the half-dozen spells he had going the second that the door was closed behind him, and exerting more of his power to settle his hair and clothing back in its proper place, removing everything that the storm had done to it.
Finally, warm, dry, and with his clothes and hair back in order, he stalked through the hallways, heading back to his room, planning what he would need. The search wouldn’t be that hard, as he had mastered the Finding spell long years ago at his father’s insistence, but it would be the purchasing that would be difficult.
The day held no allure to him, only the angry sun that burnt his skin in seconds it seemed, no matter what manner of magic he cast or clothing he wore. Of course, his sister was even worse, which was another reason why he had mastered the Finding spell.
He, at least, could withstand the dawn… she shrank away from any hint of sunlight in the sky.
There were some spells that could shield them from the sunlight, but they had the slight side-effect of making them mostly invisible to the normal person. Not to mention that they were costly to cast and keep in effect, in terms of magic power and concentration.
With an annoyed sigh, he sank down on his large bed, pulling his sleeveless coat off and folding it neatly on top of a chest that sat next to the bed. Soft leather boots were next to come off, both of them set neatly beside the chest. Tirval absently tugged off his gloves, giving his pale, delicate hands a careful look, and letting some of his healing power flow gently through them, just incase he had missed anything before.
He and the rest of the Night Mages wore gloves for a multitude of reasons, though many could be boiled down to only two basic ideas… protection and vanity. It was one reason why they all wore a similar sort of outfit, of long pants and long sleeved shirts, with gloves and knee high boots. It was part of the heritage of a Night Mage, delicate skin that rarely weathered or calloused, leaving all of them, if they wanted to do any sort of physical labor, with only two options: constantly heal blisters, abrasions, and other wounds, or wear clothing that protected them, and didn’t have a tendency to rub them raw. Hence the silk and soft leather.
Finally satisfied with the state his hands were in, he reached down and flicked an almost invisible catch, unlatching the belt and pulling it off of his body, though he left the sword attached. Tirv leaned it against the chest, as he pulled his shirt off and laid it next to the coat.
A wide yawn caught him without warning, and he swiftly brought a hand up to shield his mouth, before burrowing deep under the covers and curling up, a small smile lighting up his face as he drifted gently off to sleep.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________
“So, do you approve of her?” Tirv smiled brightly as the beautiful young mare that he had ever so carefully bred, raised, and trained, all while keeping it a secret from his sister, practically glided out from behind Starlance, head proudly held high.
Lesara just stared at the horse in surprise, both hands coming up to rub at her eyes, just in case she was seeing things, “Approve? I love her, Tirv… what’s her name?”
::Call me Starsilver.:: the mare tossed her head, pure, sparkling silver mane flying in the moonlight. Blue-violet eyes shone like jewels, standing out against the pitch black of her coat, which was broken only by a precise five pointed silver star on her forehead, and her silver mane and tail.
“Starsilver?” Les blinked, “If you did the same thing that Starlance did… then you were sired by Quicksilver?”
::She was.:: Starlance stomped a silver hoof, ::We’ve decided that that is how we will be known. The firstborns of each pairing will name themselves by taking the first half of their mother’s name, and the last half of their father’s name. Any others born after are free to choose their own names.::
“Well, makes sense, I guess,” Les ran a hand through her platinum hair, the strands automatically falling back into place with an unconscious use of magic, “But why does it matter if I approve of her?”
Tirval smiled, as he leaned against Starlance’s side, “Because, sister mine, that little lady has agreed to see if you and her can be partners.”
She blinked, “Partners?”
“Well obviously!” a grin, “You do need a mount for when we go out exploring the world, dear sister, and you can hardly call these two beauties –mere- horses, yes?” Tirval patted the neck of his partner, “After all, they’re just as intelligent as humans… well, more intelligent than most, I’d like to think.”
“Well, true…” Lesara slowly approached Starsilver, her hand extended, palm and fingers forming one flat plane that she offered for the mare to sniff, “Though I am rather.. hesitant about the riding part.”
::Don’t worry about it,:: Starsilver moved forward and bumped her head against Les’ chest, ::Tirval’s trained both of us to a special kind of saddle that’s barely more than a pad, comfortable for both rider and horse, especially over long distances.::
::He asked us for permission, of course,:: the stallion stomped a hoof lightly, ::And we’re both trained to reins, though he and I have found that it’s much easier if we just let our minds intermingle, and so know the surface thoughts and desires of the other instantly.::
“Although,” Tirval added, with a small smile, “It was more along the lines of me telling both of you about what everything did, then equipping both of you and demonstrating a bit.”
Les looked up from stroking Starsilver’s head, tilting her head questioningly at her brother, “Well… when do we leave, then?”
He grinned, “How does tonight sound?”