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.