The TwiceBorn

The Restless Call Of Destiny

 "We come from long lines of people destined never to meet."--Miranda July

Lochedge.  Alora watched the smoke roll across the sky.  It was gummy and black and reminded her of ink.  Spilled black ink moving across the crystallized blue of the sky.  She pulled up Loki and took an experimental sniff of the air.  The true stink would be when they got a bit closer but Alora abruptly decided to put that off just a bit longer.

Scared? 

No.  Cautious, yes.  She wanted to think a bit more.  Look at what little she knew from all different angles and make sure she wasn't missing anything.  Something small and insignificant could make all the difference when it came to speaking with Yzebel.  She glanced back at Islinn, who was staring at the sky with stunned wonder.

Also, before she rode into Lochedge and fulfilled whatever part it was she'd been chosen to play, she had to be sure of Islinn. In what way though, she didn't know. Call it insecurity; call it need, call it whatever word fit, all Alora knew was she wasn't ready to take the girl in there yet...not quite yet.

She turned Loki back into the dwindling treeline and started to ride back in where the trees were thicker and the heat heavier.

Islinn moved her stag up alongside.

"Where are you going?  That's Lochedge,right?"

"Yeah.  We'll ride in tomorrow.  There's no hurry.  It's been a full day of sun. Besides, all that smoke...there will be time enough to breathe it in tomorrow."

The excuses were weak even to Alora's ears.  Islinn remained silent but Alora could tell by the line of her jaw, she wasn't happy. 

"What?" Alora asked. "You that anxious to see the Hynti?"

"No.  I'm anxious for the people to be helped.  They must be terrified."  Islinn replied coolly. 

Alora remained quiet.  She didn't want to start seeing everyone through Islinn's eyes.  What was power for Islinn would be a weakness for her. And her undoing. She knew this not through learned knowledge but nature.  It was simply not meant for her to be as such.

The whisper of water over rocks drew Alora through the towering stand of trees.  Loki delicately picked his way through the underbrush and the air cooled as the whisper grew louder.  The lush green of the mirrabo trees and the brightly colored sash plants gave the area a Faire appeal and Alora felt herself smile as Loki stepped through the treeline onto the grassy banks of a spring-fed stream. 

The area was rich with frogs and peepers and the grass was knee-high in spots, much to Loki's delight.  Alora dismounted and knelt down by the water's edge.  She dipped her hand in and felt the cold caress of it as it flowed through her fingers.  The water widened in some places, strutting past river rocks and filling haphazard basins before it trundled its way to parts beyond the reach of her eye.

She was suddenly aware of Islinn standing behind her.

"This is beautiful," The girl breathed.  "It's so...alive."

Alora stood up.

"We'll camp here.  Get cleaned up before riding into Lochedge."  She smiled with a humor she didn't quite feel.  "It's hard to uphold the myth of The Twiceborn when I smell like what's been tossed out behind the taverns."

Islinn nodded, her eyes still troubled.  Alora reached out and rested her hand on Islinn's shoulder.

"The people in Lochedge will be fine another night.  The fires are strong, you can tell by the smoke.  It will keep the Hynti away."