There was no response to the man's fervent plea, and he lay his head on her chest, feeling a sob rise in his chest for the young woman he did not know, and yet somehow knew at the same time. He raised his head, his eyes on the heavens of the night sky, and he appealed on her behalf. Oh great Father, please, do not take this angel from those who love her, have mercy on her family, that they may yet as meet her, that she may yet as complete her life's work here!! Still, there was no response, and he let his head lower back to her chest, feeling as though he were no longer in favor with the One who knew all things, who was all.
And suddenly, as that thought had been conceived within his mind, he felt it merged with something... someone else, someone distinctly feminine. Images passed before his eyes, and it was a few seconds before he realized that he was seeing this young woman's life pass before his eyes. He should have known, and yet he hadn't. The images whirled too quickly for him to view each one, though those of struggle, of pain, of deprivation and solitude were clear. He saw too the moments of happiness within a little, raven-haired girl and her brother, between her and her blonde-haired friends, on up to a young woman who was bursting with womanly charm and desires, waiting to be set free by a man who was only a friend to her.
Finally, he saw the last scene of her life, before her deep slumber, and he felt the agonizing pain she must have felt as she made her choice, to give up her life, as she knew she would have to, for her brother and two dearest friends. He felt how she had hardened her heart to keep from crying, to keep from letting her twin see how badly she wanted to go with him, and how one of them must choose to give the other life... the greatest gift of love she could give him, he thought. He felt the torture of not being able to breathe, even when she had fought her hardest to hold on, and of the release that she had almost had, up until he had caught her spirit.
Keigharia's eyes pierced him as she stared at him, face to face, spirit to spirit. "Who are you?? Why did you save me?? Why didn't you simply let my light go out, so that my brother would be safe??" Fuinraug cringed at the sorrowful ache in her voice, one that told him that her suffering in that last hour of her time awake had been more than she could ever have borne, had it not been for love of her brother.
"My dear, are there not people who would wish you alive?? It is of no consequence who I am, only that I know there must be those who would not wish you gone from them from this day, this very hour on." She looked away, unable to face him, to face the truth.
"What do I matter to you?? Would it not be better for me just to die now, instead of suffering any longer??" Fuinraug felt as though a knife of ice had passed through his heart, and he knew that, could he not bring her back, that he too would be gone from the world of the living, that he had inhabited for so long. Reaching out, he took her hand, causing to her look at him.
"You are so strong, and yet, I cannot look into your eyes without seeing the pain that the High Wizard caused you. You matter to me..." he stopped, trying hard to choose his words carefully, though attempting not to pause long enough so that she would think his answer to be anything less than the truth. "Keigharia, you have a fire within you, a fire so strong that it does not wish to go out, or else I would not have been able to sustain your spirit as I did. You are to be a great many things, however, one of them is not dead, not now." He smiled, as he saw tears fill her eyes, and spoke softly, his lilting accent coming through with his emotions. "Such complexities did I see when I viewed your memories, that I would wish to know, for such a continuous life of struggle you overcame a great many times, when you could have given up. My dear, do not try to tell me that you do not know who you are. You are the daughter of a great woman who too has had to overcome struggle, the latest of which was losing you and your brother. I beheld your life, you know of whom I speak. She would not want your to give up, nor would your father, your brother, your friends." He paused again, reaching out to brush her chin lightly with his fingertips.
"Nor do I." Keigharia's eyes widened, as she gazed as the man who would have been insulted to be called ethnic, for he was certainly darker than the darkest ethnic skinned person she had ever beheld. Truly he was the color of an ebony rock, his skin the shade of the sky at the midnight hour, when all was the darkest of the dark, the blackest of black. Unable to reply to that, not sure how she felt about someone caring as he was saying he did, when she did not know him, she turned, sighing.
He spoke again, this time with more fire. "If you do not let go of your anger towards Umrinc, you'll never be able to be all that you can be, to be at your full potential. It will be impossible, for when you harbor anger in your heart, it penetrates to your soul, and though you are not the only one whom it affects, physically, psychologically, you are the one suffering from its deteriorating effects." This Keigharia knew how to answer, for it was the way she had lived for the past eleven years.
"Sometimes, anger can help you survive, you know, can help you keep going on, when you feel like it is worthless to fight, that it is better to give up. Sometimes, anger is the only fuel that is able to drive you forward in whatever it is you do," she murmured, looking him square in the eye. He nodded, not budging on his beliefs. "Yes, but sometimes... so can faith." Keigharia wanted to scream.
"What does faith have to do with any of this?? Faith was that my brother would get out alive, which I do not know if he has done. Faith was that I would be able to hold Umrinc off, and I'm sure that, with my death, I was most likely unable. Faith does nothing!!" Fuinraug shook his head emphatically.
"Really?? Do you know that it is faith that has kept you alive, when you could have given up?? You had faith that you would get off Irayleu'minmuy, that you would find your parents, that you, your brother, and your friends would be safe. I saw all that, I know that you have faith!!" Keigharia was silent for a while, and Fuinraug could feel her drawing close to a decision. He knew that the next few moments could be the difference between living or dying, for both of them.
"Keigharia?? Don't do this for anyone else. Do this for yourself. Your work is not done, as I said. Intervention, of this kind, can only happen once, you know. After this, what you do is your choice. But I beseech you, don't give up just because something hurts. Moreover, find a way to fix it, to make honey out of bees, so to speak." She sighed, and he felt himself being pulled rapidly from her mind, back into his own. Opening his eyes, raising his head, he searched to find a sign that she had decided to live, that she was pulling out of the state she'd been in. Finding none, he took a shaky breath, wondering why he'd been released. He'd heard that others of his kind had merged the same, and all who had connected with someone possessing no desire to live had died with the person, so he still held a faint flicker of hope.
Rising from the chair he'd sat in, he turned to leave, not wanting to see the young woman lying there, no breath of life to be found. It was too painful, not when he'd seen her entire life before him, remembered parts that he hadn't noticed at first. He saw the memory of her dead, bloodless cat that Umrinc had killed, by way of showing her his dominance. He saw times when all she would do was sit and cry, because the other young women her age wanted nothing to do with a hijou', a separated one. Shaking his head, he moved to the doorway, not willing to look back. Starting to close the door, he heard a noise, and turning back, found the young woman coughing, wheezing, drawing in air.
Rushing to her side, he poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the stand, and, placing one hand behind her head, put the glass to her lips, dribbling water into her cracked lips. "M'lady," he murmured, feeling as though he should bow, though unable to do so. Her eyes locked with his, and when she had had enough water, she closed her mouth, waiting for him to release her. Raising her hand to her head, she rubbed her temple, groaning in pain.
"You... Ijael is the only one ever to enter my mind, and never like that. Who are you?? You never answered me when I asked." He nodded, shrugging, evading the question.
"It was not important who I am, I was trying to focus on you, make you see that you had to come back across the fine line. And you did, it appears." A smile graced his lips, and it was almost odd, such white against such stark black. His amber eyes were the only actual color upon his countenance, and those glowed softly, contently, as they took on a soft blue cast. Keigharia made to raise and shake her head, felt the world turn, and decided against such actions, simply opting for an inquiry.
"Yes, I did. And I would wish to know the name of the man who helped to bring me back." The statement was a bit firmer than the one before it, and Fuinraug shook his head. "I did not bring you back, I only-"
"Who are you??" Keigharia was sick of playing, her head was spinning, feeling as though she'd become hung-over, though worse than she'd ever seen Jarre or Varus. "Tell me your name, so that I may sleep!! I feel as though the world is moving fast around me, and I am the only thing stationary. Simply grant me your name." Her last words were strained, her raw throat, though repaired, still aching. Fuinraug sighed.
"Rhihazyrtophule, originally of the Anireyleikee of Teys'sisteuste, a people who are rarely seen, and a world that no longer exists. I have been many names, and many places have I lived, though for now, you may call me Hithui Fuinraug, or simply Fuinraug." A smile crossed her lips, as her eyes closed, sending her back into slumber.
Keigharia, Fuinraug carrying her, was barely onboard before all three men descended upon her, hugging her, taking her from the black-man's arms, all carrying her. He tried to tell them to be careful, she had just awaken, and needed more sleep, but he gave up when he saw Rojarre cradling her in his arms, her drowsy face against his neck. Part of Fuinraug felt jealous that she was so comfortable with her friend, and part of him was happy to see her awake, if not still partially drugged by the sleeping agents he'd given her. A hand lay on his shoulder, causing him to turn around.
"If she's anything like her mother, any drug you give her, no matter how powerful, will filter through her system, producing short bursts of sleep." The man turned to see Shola, watching the four of them head back into the depths of the ship, to find Keigharia a bed. "They really care about her... all three were willing to die to bring her back."
"As she was for them," he answered huskily, not sure why he was upset. Shola couldn't fail to notice though. She smiled, moving the hand that rested on his shoulder, a good six inches higher than hers, to around his waist. "Come with us, friend," she requested, casually, yet with interest. "I am sure that there are those who would value your company, if no one else than the Eyrlass, Keigharia and Ijael's mother, herself." He nodded thoughtfully, as though considering it seriously.
Besides, it would be interesting to have someone who is the bridge between my rider and I. I don't believe that many have seen a dragon shifter. Funiraug sent a thought in Quioqueth's direction, his face blank from decades of training. Does anyone else here know?? No, I believe it would be best if you told them yourself. As do I.
To Tripaldi
