In Dreams: Chapter Seven (Chain Reaction)

[vanimadin]

Aaaaand this is the last pre-written chapter!

Now I can move on to working on new chapters~ I AM EXCITE. \o/



Title: In Dreams (Chapter Seven)
Fandom: Heralds of Valdemar
Author: senashenta
Rating: K+
Genre: Fantasy, Adventure
Characters: Companion Lyntar, Spirit Avalbane, Spirit Sashara, Spirit Aterya, Brianna Osias, Meena Norcroft, Leshie Rakmour, Heraldic-Trainee Gabriel Maxwell, Companion Niressa, Heraldic-Trainee Dragan Fulton, Companion Cheyne, Heraldic-Trainee Mel Truant, Companion Arlam, Heraldic-Trainee Dragan Fulton, Companion Cheyne, Companion Yauvani, Companion Rella, Spirit Zeshawn, Jemeste Coriydue, Bard Fradrick, Housekeeper Ellyn, Herald Mirim Crofter, Companion Turaan, Hallette Montenegro, Herald Jenica Nansen, Herald Lamont Kiri.
Disclaimer: Valdemar and concepts belong to Mercedes Lackey; characters belong to their creators; this fic and AU belong to their author.
Summary: They are Spirits of the Forest, crystal eyed and white as freshly fallen snow, and seen only occasionally in fleeting glances. They are said to be ethereal, angels of another time and place, bound to the Earth by a spell… or a curse. And it is the destiny of those chosen as Collegium Trainees to search for a Spirit to call their own. Only two or three of each year's Trainees manage it, and those lucky souls have been lifted to a place of honor in Valdemarian society. A place where they are among the elite guard of their Monarch and Country. A place where they can call themselves "Heralds". Now a threat to the Spirits has risen, and thanks to a "Spirit" named Lyntar, things around Valdemar are going to change...

IN DREAMS
Chapter Seven: Chain Reaction
By Senashenta

Crystal and crystal.

Sapphire and sapphire.

:Leave me alone, Yauvani.: Lyntar growled.

Behind him, Aristides was watching with worried eyes—and Ari had also been joined by a second stallion, whom Lyntar vaguely recognized as… Wray? He didn't know him well, but he'd met him once or twice when he was younger. In any case, he was glad for the backup, as Yauvani had brought two of her own supporters when she decided to accost him.

:I will not.: Yauvani snapped in reply, and the two other Companions—one mare and one stallion—stamped in a restless fashion, the sound only serving to reinforce Yauvani's statement. Ari's ears went back, and Wray raised a lip contemptuously but Lyntar did nothing besides stare her down. :I have come to tell you to leave, Spirit Lyntar. We of Haven do not need your kind among us.:

:Mykind?: He repeated incredulously.

Ari snorted angrily, :his kind is our kind, Yauvani. Lyntar has Chosen, and by our laws that makes him a Companion—:

:I am not talking about that!: The mare snarled, glaring firey blue, :you are out of place, Aristides! You have no right to speak to me this way, and I would advise you to keep your nose out of this.:

Ari gaped for a moment, but before he could start into a tirade of his own, Wray interrupted, speaking for the first time. His Voice was calm, but with force behind it, and Lyntar had the fleeting impression that he had been a Bard in a previous life. :It's you that has no right, Yauvani—no right to speak to Lyntar this way, and no right to question his Choice.: Raising his head, he eyed the other Companion flatly, :there are those among us who didn't agree with your Choice, and those who even more strongly feel that you and Lamont should not hold the kind of command that you do. But we did not question you when you Chose Lamont and brought him to Haven, and we did not question the Elders when they assigned you as their liaison. So… what right do you have to question Lyntar and Brianna?:

:Thegirl has no Gifts!: Yauvani Shouted, Mindvoice reverberating loudly in everyone's heads. :Not only did this—this—this creature Choose out of Hunt, but he Chose one of the unGifted!: Her Voice had risen in pitch, and she was vaguely wide-eyed as she glared down her nose at them, :this cannot be allowed!:

Well.

Lyntar blinked for a moment, so caught off guard by Yauvani's sudden declaration that he couldn't muster up the words to respond: he knew that Bri was among Valdemar's Gifted. And she was strongly Gifted as well—he could feel it, a brooding, stormy presence in the back of his own mind, but definitely coming from Bri and not from his own consciousness. How could she be saying that—

Anger replaced his befuddlement, even though Ari and Wray still seemed puzzled, and he snorted, a rumbling noise in the back of his throat, before meeting Yauvani's angry gaze squarely. :Bri is Gifted, Yauvani! Why must you slander her as well as me? Do you hate me so much, for breaking away from the Customs of Old?:

Crystal eyes flashed, and the mare's nose flared. :Shehas no Gifts! Lamont has seen it for himself! Spirit Lyntar, Herald Jenica herself Tested your mis-Chosen girl, and could find no hint of Heraldic Gifts—!:

:—this is just because you're so set in the Old Ways that—:

:—Spirit Lyntar! You forget that I am an envoy to the Elders, and—:

:—and the Elders can go to Hell for all I care! Just leave Bri out of-:

:—how dare you speak of the Elders with such disrespect—?!: Yauvani was on the verge of outright Screaming, and everyone except for Lyntar was wincing from the vocality of their argument—everyone including the two Companions who had originally come to support her and her claims. :You are nothing, Lyntar! Nothing by a Spirit who wants to become a hero by betraying all of the ways of his people! You can never be anything more than a betrayer, Lyntar, and that girl can never be anything more than a whore!:

Something inside his mind gave way on those words, and with an almost tangible snapping nose a wave of fury swept outward like a flash flood as he lost control of his mental powers and drowned everyone around him in angry energy—

o-o-o-o-o

"I hope you don't mind me tagging along." Bri looked hopefully toward Jemeste once more, and once more the other girl just waved a hand nonchalantly, shifting her measuring string absently against her other.

"Of course not."

Relieved, but still feeling like a tag-along, she nodded and turned her attention to the corridor around them—and, again, marvelled at the general amazingness of the Collegium. Her life would never be the same again! Not that she was really going to complain about not having to work in a brothel...

Bri did, however, intend to complain about Lyntar as much as humanly possible in the hopes that maybe, some day, he would get the hint and vacate her head. It was strange to have another person in there with her—though, come to think of it, he'd been absent for about a candlemark...

Maybe he was already getting that hint?

She could only hope...

"So," Jemeste said, interrupting her thoughts, "you'll probably be starting classes tomorrow, right? Or maybe the next day?"

"As soon as I have a schedule, I think." Bri responded with a shrug.

"Right, so probably tomorrow." She smiled, "the Dean gets right on things like that... doesn't like to keep new Trainees waiting, be they General or Heraldic, or anything else that happens to wander onto the grounds."

A joke? Bri couldn't decide. "Did you ever have to take classes, Jemeste?"

"No—well, yes." A pause, and she frowned, "not the same type that Trainees that go here get, but I did some basic reading and writing, and a bit of math. The reading and writing are important for what I do, being a servant, but the math wasn't so much. I took those classes along with some of the other servants."

"Oh."

"You'll be doing a lot more, though," Jemeste continued, "especially since you didn't have the General Trainee courses before hand—you have to do it all now, which means all the General classes and all the Heraldic classes. I don't envy you, you know. There's a lot of work! Between your schooling, your weapons training, your survival training, and whatever chores you're assigned, you'll be lucky to get to sleep before midnight every night, and then you'll have to be up again before dawn!"

The way Jemeste was putting it, it almost sounded worse than the brothel—at least there, her shift hadn't started until the afternoon at the earliest, and from the sounds of it she would be getting more sleep back at the 'inn' than at the Collegium.

Damn that stupid horse for dragging me into all this...

To say she was torn was an understatement, and as her mind began an all-too-familiar argument, she could only sit back and listen: the brothel or the Collegia, being alone—or having Lyntar.

She didn't think of him as an "it" anymore, she realized. For a while, what seemed like years, but had only been a day or so, she had. In her mind, he was been either an "it" or a "horse", though she knew that neither was particularly flattering in the mind of a Companion. And it frightened her that she had graduated to "him", "he" and "Lyntar" so quickly.

If she accepted him, then he had won.

"What's it like, having a Companion?" Jemeste asked, curious.

Bri blinked, then rolled her eyes. "Like sharing your brain with a sarcastic, egotistical brother."

"Um..." she seemed confused, "that doesn't sound very nice—uh, Bri? What—?"

A strange feeling, like thunder in the night, and Bri froze in mid-step.

Lyntar..?

o-o-o-o-o

He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think—

Niressa's forehead thumped forcefully into his side, and Gabriel gasped, his breath forced out of him. In the next stall, Arlam's head came up sharply and his ears flattened against his head, a mirror of what Niressa was doing. Mel had stopped grooming him, and was frowning, concentrating, but didn't seem to be having the same troubles as the other Trainee.

A shadow, dark and foreboding, hung low in the air and choked off any nearby lines of energy—they shrivelled, shrank, died, as if someone had tapped them dry. And in Gabriel's mind, a tense cloud of anger—rage—spite whirled and danced, and threatened to spill over into coherence in the blink of an eye.

"Niressa, what—?!"

The mare's eyes widened, :it's—there's—it's Lyn, I think, but he—can't—:

The storm broke, cutting off her sentence and driving her to the floor of the stable in a single, painful moment. Gabriel followed her, his hands clamped over his ears instinctively, his head bowed down toward his chest as if to protect it—but there was nothing he could do to defend himself against the psychic onslaught that raged in the air around him.

Next to him in the hay, Niressa attempted to push herself to her feet—but her legs seemed unable to hold her, and she slipped down to the floor once more. He watched her struggles through half-closed eyes, tears welling up to blur his vision—

o-o-o-o-o

She screamed—and screamed—and screamed—

She could do nothing else.

Her mind was afire, burning in an inferno of hatred and—

It's... because...

A lone coherent thought began to emerge through the roaring pain that danced in her skull—and then it was gone again, swallowed by the void that was growing within herself before she could grasp it. Hot needles dug into her, pushed deeply into her thoughts by whatever was fuelling the mind storm that now tore through the Collegia and into Haven beyond.

No...

Not whatever.

"Lyn... tar..."

The final thought, a single word mouthed in a whisper as Bri's legs gave out and she crumpled to the ground. It was Lyntar who was causing the pain, and the storm—who was the storm, retribution from the Havens, unleashed upon the mortal world below.

For an instant, she saw white—silver—blue—the purest light she had never imagined seeing—

And then—

Blackness.

o-o-o-o-o

Cheyne's ears were back, her eyes wide and her nostrils flared. She danced uneasily, despite Dragan's comforting hands on her neck and the worried tone to his voice, her questing mind brushing against something dark—dangerous—something terrible, yet with the energy signature and aura overtones of—

Of a Companion.

They were close enough to Haven that she could easily tell where the strange waves of rolling energy were coming from, yet far enough away that her own mind wasn't adversely affected. That didn't stop her stomach from doing summersaults, though, and it seemed more than interested in leaping right up her throat and out of her mouth, given half a chance. She hoped she could keep from throwing up, which wasn't a fun activity to engage in, no matter who you were.

"Cheyne! What is it—?" Dragan was leaning forward to try to see her face, concern etched into his features and his brows drawn together worriedly. For a moment, Cheyne thanked the Havens that his Gifts didn't include much in the way of Thoughtsensing.

Whuffing nervously, she made a point of Shielding his mind anyway, and then responded finally; :Something bad is happening in Haven.:

Surprise. "What?"

:I don't know.: She took a single, tentative step forward, then shook her head and broke into a faltering trot. :I don't know, Dragan. But we're going to find out soon.:

o-o-o-o-o

He couldn't stop what was happening.

Awash in his own energies, caught in a riptide that was pulling his consciousness farther into the depths of the shadows, Lyntar could only stand, frozen by energy he had no control over, while those around him dropped to the ground, forced downward by the sheer power of his untapped potential.

Sapphire eyes were wide, frightened, staring straight ahead.

Yauvani's legs bowed, her nose nearly touching the grass and her own eyes squeezed shut against the onslaught, and though he hated her as much as he had ever hated anything before, he wished there was something he could do to clamp down on the raw energy that was pouring from his own mind.

But it was too much for him—

:LYNTAR!:

Something—a vague white shape in the corner of his frozen eye—physically slammed into him, knocking his feet out from under him and making him tumble sideways, landing on the ground. Whatever had collided with him followed, once more hitting him as it landed against his side and then rolled over him to rest a few feet away.

He was breathing harshly.

Deep, panicked breaths—

—but his mind was his own once more, and instead of a torrent of raw, white energy, a flood of pain overtook him. A low keening groan came from him as he kicked weakly—it felt, to him, like he was struggling against a drift of heavy snow—his thoughts were bogged down—

:Lyn—:

Rella's voice.

He managed to lift his head and look toward where she was lying—where she had landed, sprawled a short distance away, stretched out on her side with her mane and tail in a tangle and her eyes open, staring at him. Her expression was blank, her eyes pained, and her breathing irregular. She must have hurt herself when she hit him—but she had knocked him out of the energy loop he had been trapped in.

And it must have taken tremendous force of will to even stay on her feet long enough to do that.

:Rella, what—are you—:

:I'm fine. I'll be fine.: She blinked slowly, and then fixed her gaze firmly on him, the blank look gone and replaced by what could only be anger. :Lyntar, what in the Nine Hells... what did you think you were doing?:

He couldn't remember.

Only that he'd been angry. So angry that... what had Yauvani said? She'd said... something about Bri... and then there was white, and stars, and he could only watch while everyone around him was felled by the power of his mind alone.

:It doesn't make any sense.: Rella muttered.

He stared at her, still in shock, as she carefully shoved herself to her feet. She was favouring her left hind leg, keeping the pressure off of it, but didn't seem too much worse for wear. Indeed, the familiar, semi-antagonistic air had returned to her as quickly as it had left, though her breathing had yet to return to normal.

:What... doesn't make sense?:

He found himself the uncomfortable focus of Rella's scrutinizing gaze once again as she sniffed and headed toward where Aristides and Wray were, flat out in the grass and looking more than a little bit dazed. :It doesn't make sense,: she continued, nosing Wray to make sure he was alright, :because only the Elders... have that kind of power.:

Lyntar shoved himself to his feet, swayed a bit, and managed to keep from falling.

There was more coming in Rella's statement, and he knew it.

:And the last time I checked,: she said contemplatively, :you weren't one of them.:

He simply stared, one ear twitching anxiously, and after another long moment Rella whirled away from Wray, leaving the stallion to heave himself up, to glare at him again; :don't just stand there, you dolt!: She snapped, making him wince, :I'd bet my tail that Brianna Felt that, too!:

And then the realization—

:Good Gods—Bri!:

o-o-o-o-o

Senior Healer Marina Cathleen hurried from room to room in the Healer's Collegium, passing out teas and other potions to deal with the backlash and general aches and pains which followed whatever-it-was that had just transpired—and she wasn't the only Healer doing so. In fact, every Healer in the Collegia complex was running full-tilt, despite their own various hurts.

She wasn't sure about the others, but she knew she had a headache from hell.

Bother! I'll live. I can treat myself after I deal with everyone else.

Heralds and Bards, as well as Trainees from the various Collegiums and students from the Unaffiliated school on the grounds seemed to be coming out of the woodwork, appearing from nowhere, and all with at least one complaint, but in most cases several.

Marina was a seasoned Healer, but the sudden inpouring of patients were almost too much for her to manage, and her already thin patience was close to its breaking point. Indeed, she was already being short and snapping at many of those she treated—not that any of them cared all that much. They were just happy to gulp down the headache potions and pain tonics she had stuffed into the cloth sack that was slung over her shoulder.

A flash of green ahead of her drew her eyes upward just in time for another Healer to zip past at the end of the hall.

"Kilae!"

The other woman jerked to a halt, spinning to respond to her call; "Marina—?"

"Where are you going?"

Kilae fidgeted, "there are more patients coming in—I need to clear some room for them, or they'll have to wait out in the gardens—"

"It won't do them any harm." Marina interrupted, shaking her head, "still—clear out the children's wing, and bring all the kids that can be moved down here. They can bunk with some of the adults who are up to keeping an eye on them—that'll save us a few Healers, at least. After that, anyone who comes in for treatment will have to stay outside. It's mostly headaches and bumps anyway, so it won't kill them to be in the fresh air—and have you seen Raf?"

"Uh—no?"

"If you see him, tell him I want him making rounds at the Heraldic Collegium. I already sent Galena and Jason to Bardic, since I couldn't find you, and Althea and Keyah to the Blues wings, but I still need people to check the Heralds. They're stubborn enough that a lot of them will be ignoring backlash and the like to deal with other problems, and we can't have Heralds running around half-blind with migraines."

"Okay—"

"Good." Shifting the sack against her shoulder, Marina wrinkled her nose in thought; "come to think of it, if you see Kallam, tell him to go to the Heraldic Collegium, too. I'm about to go out and see to the Companions—hopefully they won't be too bad off and I can get back in soon..."

Kilae nodded, "is that it?"

"Yes, yes," she waved the Healer-Bard away, and watched her hurry down the corridor before continuing her own frantic pace.

She really did hope that the Companions wouldn't need all that much in the way of Healing—not that she didn't understand their intelligence, as well as their importance, but she had more than enough human patients on her plate, never mind the four-legged ones.

And not enough Healers, as always.

Major disasters always seemed to fall when they were understaffed—as it was, only six months before they had sent out nearly half of their trained Healers to take up stations along the Karsite border. With the border-raids, and the enmity between Valdemar and Karse having risen, they were sorely needed among the border settlements.

And all that was well and good, but left them severely handicapped in the Healer's department when something big went down in Haven. They had hoped to have enough time to finish training some of the current Healer-Trainees before a major catastrophe leapt upon them... but, apparently, the Gods had other plans.

Curse whoever's responsible for this, she thought in annoyance, when I find out who it is, they are going to get a more that sever tongue lashing!

In fact, her thoughts were going along the vein of a real lashing, despite that being against the vows she took as a Healer.

o-o-o-o-o

Quin was leaning against the door to Aimee's stall. Somehow he'd managed to catch himself before he actually fell, and propped himself there while something ravaged his thoughts and left him with a headache to end all headaches. Leshie was slumped against the wall of the stables, having passed out shortly before the entire episode ended.

He knew something was wrong—obviously something was wrong, but he didn't know what. It seemed that Aimee knew something was wrong as well, despite only being a horse; the palfrey was shuffling agitatedly in her stall, and whuffing in the Herald's hair whenever the whim took her to do so.

"Quin—what—was that—?"

A bit surprised, he blinked hazily at Leshie as she lifted her head to peer at him vaguely.

"Don't know," he managed to reply, with a hint of a grin. Still holding on to the edge of the door with one hand, he raised the other to his head and winced at the throbbing that ensued, "don't know…"

:A… a Mind Storm… of some kind…: Naja's Voice was rough and weak, and it was clear that she was in considerable pain as well. :I think… I think one of us caused it…:

One of them? A Companion?

Well that would be a strange development, wouldn't it?

o-o-o-o-o

A little befuddled, and with her mind more than a little foggy, Jemeste forced her eyes open and found herself staring at the ceiling of the Collegium corridor she had been in when... when... when...

What happened, anyway?

Groaning softly, she levered herself up on her elbows and blinked a few times to clear her eyes. Dizziness set in upon that motion, and she had to concentrate to keep from falling over. Now was probably not the best time to get up, and the goose egg that was trying to grow out of the back of her head only furthered that impression.

Oooh... ow...

Beside her, Bri was sprawled on her stomach, face against the floor and eyes closed. Despite the dizziness, Jemeste half-crawled and half-pushed her way over to her friend and gave the other girl a bit of a shake.

"Bri..."

Nothing. Not even a twitch.

What was she going to do? She was just a servant...

Footsteps in the hallway, approaching from the left—or was it the right? Jemeste found her mind spinning out of control, and there was no way for her to be sure of the direction. Still, she was certain there was someone coming—she thought, anyway—but in any case, she needed to stand up, or at least say something so that whoever was coming toward them would know they were there.

"H-hey—" the word was choked, and her voice hoarse. She tried again. "Hey—"

The footsteps quickened, and a moment later a figure came into view. A figure in Healer's Greens, for which Jemeste thanked her lucky stars. The man hurried toward them, hauling a bag full to bursting with tonics and potions, and looking both stressed and distressed all at the same time. Dropping the bag, he knelt down beside her and helped her prop herself up against the wall—upon closer inspection, Jemeste noted pain lines in the way he was holding his mouth.

He's hurt, too.

"Are you alright?"

"I think... but my friend..."

He nodded, but proceeded to check her pupils and heart rate anyway. Once he was satisfied, he sat back on his heels with a concerned glance toward where Bri was sprawled. "Will you be alright by yourself, do you think?"

Jemeste hesitated, then; "yes, I think..."

"Alright." Standing up, the man turned and knelt next to Bri for a moment, doing the save general checks on her that he had done on Jemeste—but this time, there was something wrong. Frowning, he began to carefully pick her up from the floor. "You wait here for a few minutes, and I'll be right back for you—but I'm going to take your friend to Healers first. I don't think you should be walking, or I'd get you to come with me... I'll carry you myself when I get back."

"But..."

"Okay?"

Still fuzzy, Jemeste nodded. "Yes..?"

Without another word, he left his bag behind and started back down the hallway in the same direction that he came from.

To Be Continued.

***