|The Quicksilver Medallion
Author: Naamela PM
Never assume you know what's going to happen. Never assume someone is your ally or enemy. And never assume you understand yourself. In a world of alchemical magic and warriors of the wind, assumptions are always fatal.Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Mystery - Chapters: 27 - Words: 66,793 - Reviews: 390 - Favs: 59 - Follows: 2 - Updated: 04-18-04 - Published: 03-07-03 - id: 1252361
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
(((Author's note: Hey, this is Scotia. Don't you dare steal any of this or I'll be very mean. VERY mean. As in, force you to watch five thousand consecutive reruns of "Barney the Purple Dinosaur" while blaring Britney Spears in the background. No bathroom breaks. Now THAT'S mean. You see my point? Anyway, if you want to help me write this, just say so in the review and I will love you forever. Enjoy~~~)))
Why wepestou so sore
Nedes mustou wepe
It was iyarked thee yore
-Please! Do not take my daughter!
-You must let her go. If you do not, she will die here with the rest of us…
-Then…a few parting words…the lullaby of my ancestors…
-Speak quickly. If the ceremony is not rightly performed, your child will not survive you.
-Yes. I…I understand, Pontifex.
Kaniq of the Blueice Clan picked her way through the snowdrifts, dragging the carcass of a seal behind her. The wind made the fur lining her hood shiver, but she wasn't cold. She couldn't afford to be cold. She needed to bring food to her husband and her family—they weren't used to the arctic weather and would perish without her help.
This was her domain, where she had grown up and learned the ways of the ancestors. And this was where she had been taken from her clan by the invaders, so many years ago. But she felt no wish to return to the old ways, although she could doubtless find a tribe of her kinsmen out here, if she looked long enough. She had married a foreigner—a highwayman, no less! The invaders were her people now, and she was determined to help them.
An infant's wail, carried on the wind, made its way to her ears. Kaniq thought she was hallucinating, for what child could survive out there? But when she heard it again a second and a third time, she couldn't simply ignore it. Changing her path, she walked in the direction of the crying.
Ever to lib in sorrow
And sich and mourne evere
As thine eldren did er this,
Whil hi alives were
My daughter, do not forget me. The time of the Solace is over, and I must fade away. You are young; you have been given a second chance; do not waste it. You are the last hope for the survival of our people. In many, many years, you will wake, and I pray that you will remember me. I love you so much…
A baby girl lay in the snow, wearing only a thin cloth. Kaniq stepped back in surprise as she came upon her. Where had the infant come from? How could she have lived in the cold? Unless…unless she were from the gods themselves!
Childe lollay lullow
Into uncuth world
Icommen so ertou
Farewell, my daughter.
Uilm was astounded as his wife, Kaniq, stepped into their makeshift tent carrying a newborn girl. In fact, he was more than astounded—he was speechless. Kaniq smiled. "Suvaai is her name. Divine gift."
In time, Uilm nodded, understanding everything, and reached out for the baby. Holding her gently, he tried to pronounce the name Kaniq had chosen for her. "Sovay. Little Sovay…our foundling…our daughter."
The infant girl stared up at him solemnly with strange eyes, green eyes, eyes that held the secrets of the world in their depths. The tent trembled as the wind shook it; the ice caps began to break into the open ocean. And the child did not cry.