Saturday, November 19, 2005

   Chapter 16: Call to the People (part 4)
Out of the shadows came Pen. A wave of gasps filled the Caravan as he walked slowly forward. There was a sad, deep, powerful smile on his face; it seemed as if the shadow itself was flowing around him. The kids parted to let him come forward to Lucifer.
He held out a friendly hand to him and helped him to his feet. Immediately, the last remnants of anger appeared to flow out of Lucifer; his eyes became gentle and friendly again.
At that same moment, light blossomed in the forest behind Pen. The kids moved back further, their eyes and mouths wide. The boy with the black eyes took two steps back and spread out his arms. To the kids of the Caravan, Pen was no longer a boy. He was a god.
Creatures stepped from the darkness. The moon embraced their white coats and made them shimmer like spun silver; their proud manes rippled like water over their muscles, covering their necks and shoulders. They were huge like war-horses. Each cloven hoof, as large as dinner plates, moved without a sound above the ground. Their heads were those of deer, fair and gentle, but they were crowned with long, slender horns. They had tails like lions, tipped in a flame of white fur.
The Letheans had heard Pen’s call. And they had answered it.


Chapter 17: Pen’s Herd

The Letheans flooded around the Caravan like white water. They did not speak, but their eyes were filled with kindness that said more than words. At first, the kids shied away from them, frightened. But the Letheans herded them and nudged them as they would their own children. They were all does; had it been a different year, they would have had kids of their own.
It was not long before everyone of the Caravan recognized the creatures’ good intentions. They allowed the Letheans to circle them and nuzzle them, until each mother had chosen her own child. Pen watched, a spark of a smile deep within his eyes, as the mothers prodded and pulled their kids closer to their deep, warm mane. Fascinated, the children buried their cold hands inside the white fur.
There was only one standing among them who had no mother. Lucifer was still frozen right where Pen had helped him to his feet. He was staring at somewhere unseen.
“Lucifer,” Pen said, breaking him out of his trance. “Lucifer, go take care of Aurora, okay?”
“… What did I do?” Lucifer asked, not even hearing Pen’s request. He spun around and faced his battleground, where Sharp and Nomei were sprawled among flecks of blood. His mouth dropped open in disbelief.
Pen came forward to him, but he did not speak.
One of the few remaining elf-soldiers came to Nomei’s side while they watched. He quickly sent her a small spark of magic—just enough to stop the bleeding and make her awake. She opened her eyes, groaned, and fell back into a deep slumber. The side of her face, beneath the blood, looked strange and disfigured. Lucifer flinched and looked away when he saw it; even the best healing magic would not be able to revive her formerly lovely features.
But she was still better off than Sharp.
The Havoc graduate lay still and unmoving, his entire body distorted by shattered bones, some of which had even broken through the skin. His red armor—ruined beyond repair—lay scattered around him.
Lucifer stared for a long, long time.
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