Aveera Nyaalie: 06 - Bare Emotions

Aveera Nyaalie appeared much older than her eleven years. Her sapphire, silk gown tapered to emphasize her slender waist and long legs. The floor length concoction brushed the tops of the ladylike heels that her twice great-grandmother Yasquire had brought her a few weeks previous from the Material Plane. The golden blonde tresses twirled and twined atop her head, the ringlets controlled and precise. Her typically lavender eyes were a hard violet. By her side, a somber Kaie Nyaalie wore a gown identical in cut and style. The only difference was that her gown was pure gold, an amber only a half-shade lighter than her eyes. Her dark locks were straight, hanging down to her waist. Her expression was as indifferent as her companion’s. When Brecbrennoch Nyaalie’s guards opened the doors of the massive receiving chamber to admit them, her granddaughter linked a thin arm through that of her best friend. Midnight and Midday entered the chamber side by side.

Nearly the entire sithen had gathered, though only the woman in the center and Kaie knew what was happening. No one looked directly at Eirienwyn, as the Queen’s edict had not been retracted. Supposedly, the beautiful Fae was not there. Brecbrennoch Nyaalie, Queen of the Sithen, was allowed to admire her many times great-granddaughter. No one else could acknowledge her. And, from the manner in which the duo walked past her, one might be convinced that the lady was simply a ghost.
Aveera’s gaze lightened as she looked upon her grandmother. Delicately, she curtsied before the throne. At her side, Kaie mirrored her precisely. The two girls walked with matched steps up to the regal Tuatha de Danaan. Leaning in at the same time, Aveera kissed the queen’s left cheek at the exact moment that Kaie kissed her right. Then, without preamble, both smoothly sat on the stairs directly before the throne at the feet of their ruler.

The gathered Tuatha de Danaan intermingled and whispered among themselves. The woman in the center, though, stared directly forward with composure. Her shoulders were straight, and she did not even breathe. Aveera listened half-heartedly to Kaie’s dialogue of those who had returned to the sithen from wandering and who had left to visit family elsewhere. Mostly, she was furtively observing the woman who had birthed her. So, when the stranger pulled a dagger and plunged it directly into her heart, Aveera could not stifle her gasp.

Unheeding of her own decree, Brecbrennoch rushed to where Eirienwyn had collapsed. From inches away, she knew that the weapon had been forged of iron. No healer could save the fae from the death wound. The queen motioned for Aveera to join her. Kneeling by her queen, she did not look at the body until ordered to do so. “See the woman who carried you in her womb. Look into her eyes and see the love she feels for you before it dies with her.”

When Aveera met the eyes of the lady, she saw regret and pain. She saw knowledge gained. She even saw love. However, Aveera’s eyes only held pity. The emotion was felt for a stranger, not for a mother. Brecbrennoch and Rena were the only mothers she knew. Bare moments passed before the pupils of Eirienwyn’s eyes dilated as her soul fled.

Aveera Nyaalie: 05 - "Time Flies"

“Ah-veer-ah!”

From her vantage point in a knee-high cul de sac, the eleven year old Aveera could look up at her pursuer without her pursuer spotting her. The dark clothing she wore blended well with the midnight marble that graced every wall, ceiling, and surface in the Nyaalie sithen even if her golden-blonde hair had to be covered. Kaie was also crouched at her side beneath the ledge and was watchful in case the hunter wizened up to her quarry. Neither girl spoke nor breathed, holding the air back though their lungs burned for oxygen. Luckily, the Tuatha de Danaan did not truly need to breathe. Now, if only all Fae had the gift for speaking mind-to-mind, Aveera would be able to ask someone why the tutors were screaming for them on their free day. By the Goddess, though, she knew they weren’t going to find her.

Once the searcher was beyond the corridor, Kaie flashed her sister of the soul a mischievous grin that fairly lit up the hall before grabbing her hand and slipping out of their hiding place. Without a word, the two girls broke into a barefoot run toward the next niche. So far, they had encountered four people looking for them in this section of the sithen. That meant dozens more were spread out and around their home. However, once they reached the Deserted Corridor they would be home free. Few people braved the spirits said to linger in the oldest part of the sithen, and even the Queen of the Nyaalie sithen could not order her people into the dark halls. Thus, less than a handful of people would dare to follow them there. And, over the years, they had successfully haunted the rooms enough to memorize the maze. Some of their most prized possessions were kept in a closet-sized room with blankets and reserves of food.

Suddenly, Kaie paused. A half-step later, Aveera also stopped. Looking behind them, before them, and to each side, the younger girl wondered why her best friend had paused. Then, the older Fae sighed. “We need to go to the throne room, now.” Aveera blinked, realizing that whatever had happened was important. Kaie never gave up the opportunity for a good hunt.

“Why?” Aveera’s lilac eyes gazed deep into Kaie’s amber ones. She knew when the golden orbs stared back that her friend had experienced a vision. “What is happening, Kaie?”

Kaie gripped the hand in hers more tightly, feeling every second of her extra three months of life, and began leading her back the way they had just run. “Our queen is in mourning. She wants her family near.” The air whistled slightly at the black-haired Fae’s exhalation. “Your mother Eirienwyn has returned from gan treabh to die.” Aveera nodded, accepting Kaie’s words as truth… except for one thing. Eirienwyn was not her mother.

Aveera Nyaalie: 04 - Dreaming

A startled scream awoke Aveera Nyaalie from a deep sleep. Until she opened her lavender eyes to see her cousin Kaie staring at her in shock, she did not realize that the shout had been ripped from her own throat. At six years old, Aveera still had not figured out how to control her reactions in the physical world to events in the Dream World. Luckily, her thrice-great grandmother and teacher assured her that she would learn soon enough. Until then, though, her roommate sometimes had a rude awakening. “You okay, ‘Veera?” her best friend in the whole sithen asked.

Rolling onto her side, Aveera wrapped her arms around her pillow. “I’m okay,” she whispered back. For a few seconds, the only sound in the room was the casual shifting of the two girls as they tried to get comfortable. “I dreamt about [i]him[/i] again.” She sighed softly. Across the room, she heard Kaie rise. Within a minute, the edge of her bed dipped as her cousin joined her. “He is growing up faster than we are,” she admitted, somewhat sadly. Obviously, if he grew up too quickly, she would not have a chance to catch up.

Kaie laid her head on Aveera’s lap, allowing the younger girl—by three months—to run chubby fingers through her long, jet-black hair. “Is he? Will you tell me about the dream?” Kaie half-begged. She knew that Aveera would describe what she saw, because the duo had shared all of Aveera’s past dreams about the brownish-blonde headed little boy with the mischievous brown eyes. From the time when he had discovered the murdered bodies of his grandparents in the Welsh sithen to the birth of both his siblings, Kaie waiting impatiently for the little boy to enter Aveera’s dreams.

Of course, since Kaie was the prescient one, she often wondered why [i]she[/i] didn’t get to have the dreams. However, Maighoa told the girls that any number of reasons could have influenced it. For example, perhaps the little boy in Aveera’s dreams was long grown and was simply remembering his own childhood. Or, maybe, Aveera had a link to the child that Kaie did not. Still, in the end, Aveera shared the details with her. So, it was nearly as good as having the dreams herself.

Aveera’s gently worked the tangles from Kaie’s hair, absently fanning the mass out. “He is still skinny, just taller. One of his brothers was with him, too. He was playing in a large tree, like the one Aunt Siene said she saw on the Material Plane. Then, his brother changed to his alternate form… He’s a cat, like you. But, bigger… so he could climb the tree, too. When he got to the top, though, he couldn’t get down. So, being the big brother, he tried to help the cub down. When the cub pounced, though, he knocked him from the tree.” Kaie gasped, causing Aveera to nod. “The fall hurt him, but I woke up before I found out how bad.”

Aveera and Kaie lapsed back into silence as they considered the import of the dream. Finally, though, the two yawned their way back to drowsiness. Eventually, Aveera laid down so Kaie could snuggle up to her. Just before she fell asleep, she heard Kaie whisper, “I’m glad we don’t have little brothers that push us from trees.” Nodding her agreement, Aveera slipped back into dreams of war and death. When she woke, she wished that her dream friend had returned.

Aveera Nyaalie: 03 - "Visiting Dignitary"

“Kaaaaaaie, where are we going?” Aveera Nyaalie’s voice was pitched low, as the little girl realized that her friend and cousin was likely leading them into trouble. If the golden-haired child knew anything, she knew that Kaie had a veritable gift for leading them into danger. Thus, her lavender eyes scanned the darkened corridor warily even as her fingers twined tightly with the slightly older girl’s. Aveera understood that her best friend in the whole Nyaalien sithen had seen terrible visions of murder and death during the night, because she had tried to use her own Gift of DreamWalking to make the nightmare go away. However, instead, Aveera had been pulled into the chaotic dream. Perhaps, she reasoned, that was the reason for the sudden and inexplicable outing first thing in the morning.

Shortly after her third birthday, Aveera had first indicated that she had inherited the Talent of her thrice-great grandmother by walking into the dream of a human. Like Maighoa, the young girl could step into the dreams of anyone in the fourth stage of sleep. One day, her family surmised that she would gain the ability to send other beings into the dream stage. Perhaps she would learn to alter the dream entirely instead of merely directing the dream along a different path, or she might discover how to project her own image into the dream instead of only taking over the form a character already in the dream. Personally, she didn’t care about any of those improvements. She only wanted to be able to help Kaie tone out the dreams of prescience that was the older girl’s Gift.

“Shh!” came the hushed answer. In the bare light, Aveera couldn’t see anything except the dark halo of hair that cascaded down Kaie’s back. “We’re almost there,” the older Tuatha de Danaan assured her. “We have to be,” she amended, after a brief pause. The correction did not comfort Aveera. Time to break their fast was arriving quickly, and the Queen of Nyaalien sithen would wonder at their nonattendance. Grandmother Brecbrennoch did not take unexcused absences lightly.

Kaie felt her way around the blind corner with the hand not linked with Aveera’s fingers. Two steps forward caused her shins to bump into something solid, cool, and unmoving. She fell to her knees with a shocked cry. “What? What is it, Kaie?” Aveera murmured, trying to tug the girl back to her feet. However, Kaie tugged her down.

For long moments, both girls knelt by the body and cried for the Tuatha de Danaan man. Neither felt the urge to move. Neither wanted to leave him alone, murdered in a sithen where he had no friends or clan. Finally, when light shone down the corridor behind them, they lightened the strangle-hold they had upon one another. Still, they waited until Brecbrennoch’s voice echoed with her authority. “What is the meaning of this game, ladies?” Though not angry, her voice was firm.

Aveera Nyaalie, five-times great-granddaughter of the woman, turned a tear-streaked face up to her queen. “Someone murdered him, Grandmother. In our home, someone hurt him.” Then, only after her worry over the children’s disappearance was alleviated, did Brecbrennoch notice the dead Fae at the children’s feet. Without a word, she wrapped comforting arms around the two girls and lifted them away from the corpse. Despite her petite build, she needed no assistance carrying them to her bed chamber.

Calling for Kaie’s mother, the woman who had nursed both infants, Brecbrennoch tucked soft blankets about the shoulders of the chits. Then, she ordered breakfast delivered. In the hearth, a fire burned. The three stared into the flames in silence until a brittle knock interrupted their thoughts. Rena Nyaalie, mother of Kaie Nyaalie and caregiver of Aveera Nyaalie, opened the door slowly and bowed her head to her ruler. Then, she moved forward to take the young ones back to their rooms, as she believed her queen wished her to do. However, a swift shake of Brecbrennoch’s head disabused her of the notion. “Please check on their morning meal, Rena,” the woman ordered.

Once the heavy, wooden door shut behind the worried mother, Brecbrennoch turned to her charges. Without a word spoken, both girls faced her. Side-by-side, the duo were her meán oíche* and meán lae**. One pair of dark, amber eyes surrounded by alabaster skin and ebony hair sat opposite one pair of violet eyes surrounded by tanned skin and golden-blonde hair. Even in their Gifts, the two were alike and very different. One dreamt of the past and future; the other dreamt the dreams of past and future. Together, the pure Tuatha de Danaan bloodlines were strong and undiluted with the human blood so many Tuatha de Danaan bloodlines had taken in. Kaie spent more time with Brecbrennoch than with her own mother; Aveera did not have a mother due to Brecbrennoch’s edict of gan treibh. The chits were opposite times of the same day.

“Oíche? Lae? Why were you in that corridor?” The Queen’s voice was curious, not demanding the five-year-olds to stand on ceremony. However, due to her own Gift of celebrating fact from fiction, she knew that their words were truth.

Aveera sighed. “Grandmother, Kaie dreamt again last night. I tried to help her, but,” she bowed her head in shame, “I could not interrupt the dream. She… We saw Cousin Vinitic cut the dignitary’s heart from his chest.” Brecbrennoch resisted the urge to sigh. Though murder itself was not forbidden in the sithen, she held the right to call foul for the inconvenience the death of the victim caused her. And, if the victim managed to survive, the attacker would be exiled to keep the peace. In this particular case, negotiations with the Minchua Sithen would be held over until a new dignitary could be sent. Unfortunately, this particular contract needed to be completed immediately. The problem was a great nuisance.

Calling for her personal guard, she ordered them to take Vinitic into custody. He would, first and foremost, be questioned about his motive. Afterwards, he would be forced to parley with the dignitary’s family and friends for the clan member they lost. Then, and only then, the Queen would take her own price from his flesh. If he survived, he would never interrupt her business again. “Thank you, granddaughter, for your honesty. And, thank you, Kaie, for your bravery in tracking this man.” She smiled, ruffling their hair gently. “Let us break our fast.”

Aveera looked at her best friend, whose eyes were downcast in sadness. They both knew that events did not happen because of her dreams. Her dreams happened because of the events. Still, sometimes, Kaie wondered. She needed a distraction. “Grandmother? May we run after we break fast?”

Brecbrennoch, too, glanced at Kaie. “Of course, Aveera. Kaie, could you honor your Queen and your cousin with your company after we eat?” One quick nod, a grand meal, and a run through the sithen in their alternate forms later, the catastrophe was momentarily put from the girls’ minds.

*midnight
**midday

Aveera Nyaalie: 02 - "Playtime in the Sithen"

The torchlight bounced off the ebony marble of the receiving chamber, mimicking the echo of the deep, threatening growls of the large wolf. The creature measured nearly five feet in length, and despite the shortness of its legs, resembled nothing more than an overly large tundra wolf. However, if the casual observer looked more closely at the wide head and massive teeth, he might have been more cautious in classifying the now extinct Canis dirus as the modern Canis lupes. Of course, the visiting dignitary was a bit more interested in the young, female cub cornered against the stone of the wall.

The cub truly was a proper representative of the timber, or tundra, wolf species. With a light undercoat, a dark gray seemed to be dabbed indiscriminately along the little wolf’s spine. The paws were large, hinting at the eventual size that the Tuatha de Danaan would grow to. Most surprisingly, the tyke had her ruff raised and her teeth exposed at the full-grown adult. A teeny growl could just be heard beneath the more resonate voice of the Dire wolf.

The diplomat stepped into the room, knowing he would never be quick enough to save the cub fighting so bravely almost three hundred yards into the room but unwilling to do other than try. However, a restraining hand upon his arm stopped him. When he turned angry, crimson eyes upon the captor, Brentanon—the consort to the Queen’s daughter—was shaking his head in warning. “You do that, and Brecbrennoch, Queen of the Nyaalien sithen, will perceive you to be a threat to Aveera. Then, she will rip out your throat, and your mission to request a mate will be pointless.” Laoghaios’s husband was smiling fondly at the scene in the room, which caused the suitor to wonder at the genes he wished his eventual child to have. Nearly reading his mind, Brentanon explained, “Their playing helps Aveera learn to defend herself, and it also keeps Brecbrennoch young. Leave them be. For now, I will show you to a bed chamber.”

Before the visitor could open his mouth, a small blur of golden fur shot between their feet. The creature, smaller by half than the wolf cub, ran directly between the Dire wolf’s back legs and exited between her front ones. As the animal came to a stop beside the cub, the man could not prevent his jaw from dropping down into an oafish gape. “What is that?”

Brentanon rolled his own eyes. “That is a Felis margarita, commonly known as a Sand Cat. But, to us, that is Kaie. Apparently, she also thought the odds were against Aveera.” The kitten was hissing and swatting at the adult wolf, standing side-by-side with the cub. The man wondered idly how much she could possibly weigh. “Two and a half pounds, mostly fur,” came the answer. When the visitor narrowed his eyes at his host, Brentanon shrugged. “Everyone who sees the three of them together has the same question… Now, if you are ready, we still have the majority of the sithen to pass through before you can rest.”

The visitor could not resist turning around for one last glance into the Royal Chambers. To his surprise, the large wolf—the Queen of the Nyaalien Sithen!—was rolled onto her back with the infant animals crawling over her as though she were a jungle gym. Of course, he knew that no one would believe him if he told the story at supper.

Case Study: Mark Antonio Duvales

Some days, enough eye candy passed through the doors to make any sane man satisfied with his job. In fact, at the very moment, a nine-point-five (on a scale from one to ten) stood not four yards away from Mark. The tight shirt revealed everything he could possibly want to see, and his hazel eyes took in the sight with something akin to joy. Seconds later, an impish smile crossed Mark’s face as the object of his interest slipped a possessive arm around the delectable lady at his side. Oblivious, the woman continued to scan the groceries in her cart.

As an energy-worker, Mark Antonio Duvales sensed that the gentleman was a lycanthrope, or maybe a shapeshifter. The energy signatures were so alike that he sometimes confused the two. Either way, the man could undoubtedly smell the sweet perfume of Mark’s casual lust. Even in Orion, post-Enlightenment, one might assume that a man would be interested in a beautiful woman. Besides, it wasn’t as if Mark would turn that particular woman down if she asked him to do her. Definitely not, especially if macho-hunk boyfriend wanted to play along.

As the couple completed their order, the shifter looked directly at Mark standing behind his cashier station. So, Mark decided to wait patiently until they walked past before he took advantage of the stranger’s advanced hearing by whispering, “I wasn’t nearly as interested in your girlfriend.”

Even though the shifter was still far enough away that he would not have deciphered the words as a normal human, he still grinned a grin that reminded Mark of a Cheshire cat with stolen cream. “I know.” The pause gave Mark a moment to control his embarrassment. However, he wasn’t expecting the rest. “I’m psychic, and you’re broadcasting.” Unable to control his guffaw, Mark felt a slight blush tint his cheeks as he remembered a couple of the fantasies that had passed through his brain.

The girlfriend squeezed her nearly-10’s hand. “We have plans tonight,” she murmured, her voice a husky tune to pluck any straight or bisexual man’s libido. “Another time.” As Mark watched the couple leave, he could only ask God to bless Orion.

Aveera Nyaalie: 01 - "The Dreamwalker is Born"

Rumors floated through the court of the Nyaalien sithen. The words whispered down the hallways of cold, black marble. The murmurs slipped between the cracks beneath doors like the sigh of a foul wind. However, no breeze ever reached the plane where the Nyaalien sithen existed. The only time sunlight touched the dark marble was when the doorway to the Material Plane opened, but the ruler of the Nyaalie family rarely encouraged such action. Brecbrennoch preferred her people where she could monitor their actions.

The inner workings of the Tuatha de Danaan family had been at Brecbrennoch’s fingertips since her husband Aberdare’s death during the early eleventh century after a human man attacked the unsuspecting Fae for supposedly stealing away a human baby and replacing it with a sickly, changeling child. After the queen lost her husband, she chose never to take another consort. Instead, she began to run the lives of her descendents. According to the newest gossip and judging by the noise emanating from the audience chamber, one of those children was preparing to break free of the queen’s reign.

The queen of the Nyaalien sithen, Brecbrennoch Nyaalie, made her presence felt in the entirety of her home without her physical attendance. Thus, as she stood in the center of her audience chamber—a room three times the size of a football field--, the space reverberated with her incensed power. Barely five feet and six inches, the Tuatha de Danaan somehow created the illusion of a greater height as her waist-length, ebony locks shuddered and careened about her body like the enraged snakes of Medusa. The only other occupant of the room was the instigator and recipient of the queen’s rage, an eerily beautiful Fae woman holding a swaddled, sleeping infant.

“I forbid you, Eirienwyn Siliena Nyaalie. Mother of Aveera, daughter of Eilien, granddaughter of Siwan, great-granddaughter of Yasquire, great-great-granddaughter of Maighoa, great-great-great-granddaughter of Laoghaios, your queen directly orders you to remain within the Nyaalien Sithen until your child reaches the adulthood of our race. As your queen and your great-great-great-great-grandmother, my word is both the law of your family and the law of your clan. Should you defy either, you are gan treibh,” murmured Brecbrennoch.

Eirienwyn’s emerald eyes gleamed in an answer to the swirling mist of power pervading the chamber, the green orbs of her ancestor and ruler. She had remained defiant as she confronted the matriarch of her line. Even when Brecbrennoch’s power washed over her and the infant after she stated her decision to leave the babe in the care of her family as she explored the Material Plane, she had not faltered. Only when the queen had heartlessly threatened gan treibh, a punishment surpassed by either stripping one of one’s gifts or sending one into the Void, had the new mother realized that—finally—she had pushed her Fae grandmother beyond the limits of family ties. Brecbrennoch would not await the interference of “karma.” Should Eirienwyn desert her daughter, she would receive the consequences back one thousand-fold. She would become clanless. Eirienwyn’s daughter would be Eirienwyn’s mother’s only child. Her name would be erased from the genealogy of the Nyaalie family. The Fae took a step closer to her queen.

Equal in height with mirrored eyes, Eirienwyn was otherwise noon to Brecbrennoch’s midnight. Eirienwyn’s wheaten gold hair hung barely to her shoulders with white blonde and light brown highlights permeating the strands. Her skin was as warmly tanned as a bright, summer day beside the moonlight pale of her grandmother’s. The young Fae held the curves of her mother, while the elder was as slender as the branches of a whippoorwill. Eirienwyn’s power reflected the vivacious draw of a warm day after a season of snow. Brecbrennoch’s felt like the forbidden pull of the full moon when one knows that creatures are roaming the night. The defiant Tuatha de realized from lessons of history that the strength of the darkness always overcame that of the light. Yet, she doubted not the sincerity of her queen’s words, only the sureness of her temper. “Grandmother,” she began to protest as she stared across the space separating her from the person who had taught her everything she knew about her Gifts.

Brecbrennoch smiled, the image a mask of cruelty against the frightening display of energy. “Doubt me, descendent?” With a question, the noose tightened around Eirienwyn’s slender neck. Since she had gained the ability to speak, she had learned one extremely important lesson. Brecbrennoch’s base of power lay in falsity. Her grandmother could detect the most carefully worded lies better than any polygraph test. Lying to Brecbrennoch made her distrustful and certain truths enraged her. This time, Eirienwyn’s silence and hesitation decided her fate. “Leave, trespasser. Be gone from this sithen. You are not family. You are gan treibh.”

The queen expected an argument, a denial. Never had she banned anyone from the Nyaalien plane, though she had threatened to do so a handful of times over the centuries. Instead, she watched her great-great-great-great-granddaughter gently lay the sleeping infant upon the hard, stone floor and exit through the small side entrance of the chamber. Only moments passed before the tiny girl-child began to wail at the newly discovered discomfort. Instantly, the power within the room died as the Fae pulled the energy back into herself. Brecbrennoch crossed the distance to her five-time great-grandchild without hesitation, and she lifted the baby to her bosom with a grace and skill bespeaking experience. “Quiet,” she purred as she rocked the calming babe. “She did not desert you, Beauty. She simply ran to a world unaccepting of a child with violet eyes who may be a pup in her crib one morning. I will always love you, Aveera Nyalie, daughter of Eir…” A sob shook the petite woman as she sank to the floor. The infant fit protectively between her knees and chest.

The queen wept for herself, for her lost descendant, and for the babe in her arms. For the first time since the death of her husband, Brecbrennoch shed tears for someone she loved. And, she wondered if the event was a sign of the babe’s life to come. What would life hold in store for Aveera Nyaalie, daughter of Eilien, granddaughter of Siwan, great-granddaughter of Yasquire, great-great-granddaughter of Maighoa, great-great-great-granddaughter of Laoghaios, great-great-great-great-granddaughter of Brecbrennoch?

© J.M. Mackin