The Gifting Chapter 2 ********************* I looked out on the gardens that I had played in as a child so many years ago, wondering where that child had gone, and whom her playmates had grown up into. Stepping out into the grass, I moved along the borders, touching a tree here or a bush there, remembering the games and hiding places they had lent themselves to. Sometimes it was hard to remember that I ever had been that child, chattering, carefree, a bit shy with strangers. No, those times were gone forever. Abruptly I dropped the petals in my hand and turned, striding back to the house. A servant approached me, tenatively. What was her name? Ah yes, I read it easily from her face. "Elliana, where might I find some riding clothes to fit?" Her shock was plain to see and I remembered belatedly that I had not actually met her before. "Oh, Lady, let me go find some!" She turned and ran, not purely out of eagerness to return the sooner. I sighed. It was ever the same. As a child I had been the darling golden pet of all the household. Now, they regarded me in awe and fear, and nothing I could say could change that. I walked out to the stables, looking out over the pastures and the horses that mankind had laboured so hard to bring out to the stars. To me, their mere presence here had always been a symbol of our deep seated connection to the horse, so far from our common first home. Vaulting the fence into the first of the larger paddocks, I walked to the middle of the field and stretched forth my awareness. One by one, the horses stopped grazing and turned to me, trotting and cantering joyfully to me, nuzzling and playfully fighting to get closest. I heard in their hoofbeats my life pulse, the pulse of the nation, and in the gladly tossing manes I saw the battle standards of the Holdings. Then, and only then, I wept. Freely mourning the passing of all that I had known, freely welcoming all that was to be, leaving behind the broken thread of my past and weaving myself back into the weft of the great tapestry that was far, far greater than I could ever hope to comprehend. I was home. Laughing, I turned and ran with the horses, falling back into the glorious game of tag that I used to play. Slapping a haunch here, ducking a kick there, I had always known where not to be and when, despite the horrified certainty of the household that I would one day be trampled. I wheeled yet again, reveling in my brief freedom, and abruptly found myself facing another fence, this one solid. The awareness that I had felt...it was different, stronger somehow and full of restrained power. Curious, I immediately went in search of the gateway, conscious of the other awareness following my progress along the other side of the wall. Finally, I found a strongly barred gate, and wondered. I lifted the heavy bar, struggling with its weight until it crashed to one side. Suddenly uncertain, I pushed open the gate, only to see...nothing. Odd. I stretched forth my inner eye to find the other and started as I found it so close by. Trickster! I laughed and launched myself around the corner to startle the stallion in return. As I leaped, I suddenly became aware of yet another presence, this one behind me. That shouldn't have been able to happen! Myriide would have my head on a platter for this! flashed through my head. I re-emerged in a crouch, a good thirty feet away from where I had originally intended to land, prepared to deal with any threat. As I landed, I noted that the new clothing Elliana had brought me had shifted back to my more familiar heavy Initiate's robes. I straightened as I met the equally startled eyes of Natiel. "You. Indeed, I should have remembered. Myriide would be most displeased with me." I bowed stiffly. "Many journeys cross when old companions meet, Natiel. What brings you back?" The look of startled wonder in Natiel's eyes slowly faded into the background as he bowed in return, equally formal. "The Holder of Holdings honors me too greatly, that I am remembered. Allow me to welcome you home in tradition steeped in the beginnings and prove to myself that the Holder of Holdings also honors the Remembrance." I could feel the frozen mask my face was becoming. "The right of challenge is, of course, yours." The mask settled more firmly over my features as I waited for him to pronounce the form of the challenge. "As the tradition of the Holdings and the symbol of the Remembrance, how else could I challenge the Holder of Holdings but with a horse?" "A race." My voice was flattened. What an arrogant twit he'd turned into! Couldn't he have had the grace to... then again, this Natiel. Grace couldn't fit into the same room with an ego the size of his. "Indeed. A race." "Then you must allow me to exercise the grace of Bestowal. It is only fitting, after all." "As you wish. I accept your grace and choose the stallion, Dunfire." Oh, do you now, Natiel? Truly you have forgotten much. "Very well." I extended my awareness out, further... further still.. asking for a champion to bear me in answer to this challenge. There was something very odd about Dunfire's sense. Almost a duality... but no horse's mind is that complex. I put the thought aside, time enough to ponder that later. My heart swelled at the eagerness of so many to be chosen, the clamor of hooves and neighing in response to my call. Gradually, the noise resolved itself into the stillness left in the echo of hoofbeats and my champion showed herself. The mare was old, bordering on ancient, if one were to be a bit less charitable. Her coat had long since dulled to a flat gray, her back was swayed like the limp hammock on the veranda, but her neck was proudly arched and there was a defiant gleam in her eye as her stubby legs carried her prancing forward. "Is this a joke? That hag was never a match for my Dunfire even in her prime, and by the looks of it, that was twenty years ago at least." A private smile flitted across my lips as I turned to face the mare. Truly she was old, yet no other would I have chosen. "Glaenna dear, I thank you." I extended my hand toward her nose and she whuffled softly at me, stepping around to present her back to me. I mounted, careful not to stress her aged joints further than her pride demanded. "So, are you coming?" --> notes<-- the stallion refuses to run for him, tries to throw him, fails, sulks. Dunfire rejoiced, showing off for me, prancing and galloping, clearly having switched allegiances. Natiel is wryly sorrowful, outwardly amused at his horse's antics, inwardly wounded by his sudden rejection. ********************* She's so beautiful now, all flame and brilliance and light. Somehow I miss the child's clarity. Then, her eyes were like a still mountain lake, clear, deep and sparkling with the joy of sunlight. Now, even though they sparkle, they reveal no hint of the depths behind them. What mirrored your eyes, my jewel? Who taught you to shield that way? He watched her from shadows as, it seemed, he always had. He wondered if she'd ever known of his presence, the bound shadow to her radiance. Perhaps it was better if she never did. Although, how he was going to manage to remain cloaked now that she'd fully awakened her Gifts, he really had no idea. At least Natiel had just happened along most conveniently. Hah. The arrogant twit, he probably thinks that he was the sole cause of her startlement. Dunfire, my lad, keep my secrets well. He settled himself deeper into his hiding place.