Postby Mimichan » Mon Jan 19, 2004 11:20 pm
Thank you all so much for the nice comments. I am truly grateful for the positive feedback, and even more grateful that people actually seem to enjoy my story. ^_^ Anyway, here is the next installment...hope you like. Oh, and by the way, if anyone has suggestions or constructive criticism that they think would help me improve then by all means feel free to share them with me. Then, if I ever have an actual novel someday, I can dedicate it to you and whatever the advice was that you'd given me ^_~
Maisige worked diligently in preparation of the ceremony. Because the obsidian dagger had gone missing, there were some minor adjustments that had to be made. The Guardian's body would not be sent to the Burial Caves with the ritual scars that were normally due a dragon of her station. The High Priestess knew that there was no real point to it other than holding fast to what little bit of superstition the Clan still had, but the Clan expected certain things--even if those things happened to be completely useless. Maisige, herself, might have admitted as much had anyone asked.
The body was only a shell and whatever it was that had made the Guardian who she was was well and gone now. Of course, ceremonies such as these were what gave Maisige the power she enjoyed. In the eyes of the clan, she was the gatekeeper of the life to come. Nobody simply passed from one realm to the next with their own ability--it took the aid of a priestess to prepare them and send them off properly. Under the circumstances, however, Maisige would never have had the time to see to all of the fallen dragons that day, so she was grateful for the lesser priestesses and acolytes who had taken responsibility for the rest of the slain.
The High Priestess turned her attention to the lifeless form before her. She hadn't anticipated this. It had become obvious at her last summons that the Council was displeased with her. They had mentioned the potential threat that the Guardian could become, but Maisige hadn't thought that they would kill her. The danger she'd posed to them was all based on speculation and what ifs, there had been no concrete proof to warrant such a deed. But she had found that the Council was quite capable of acting rashly and did so with regularity. Maisige often got the impression that much of the decisions that were made were done on a whim and not out of any divine knowledge or wisdom.
The Guardian had lost her life merely because she might have remembered, someday, that all was not as it seemed. The spell of forgetting had been the best solution at the time. Mithaya had always been especially stubborn and reasoning with her had been next to impossible. She had adamantly refused to accept that Mathain's exile was just or necessary. She had argued and threatened and had even attempted to follow after him. It became evident that the male had brainwashed her somehow and that normal methods of persuasion would not work. Maisige had tried everything. She had tried logic and debate, confining her to the lair under heavy guard, and getting the Battle Mistress to increase her daily workload and exercises. Nothing had worked. In the end, Maisige had called upon a dark power that few realized she had and the issue of Mathain had ended forever. Well, at least they had left the other dragon to her. No doubt she was still in the dungeon. The Queen Mother had planned on seeing her later, but under the circumstances, Maisige was pretty certain that the young dragon might have to wait it out just a bit longer.
She reached out a claw to grasp the Guardian's face. The wound that the former protector of the Clan had recieved had already been taken care of and the body clothed in a burial garment. More ancient superstition that declared one should not enter the next life wounded, unadorned, or naked. Although Maisige wasn't able to carve the symbols into the Guardian's flesh as was customary, she decided to try and appease the Clan by at least painting them on with redberry dye.
Her claws made contact with a face that should have been cold and lifeless. She gasped in surprise. It was hot to the touch. What could this mean? She placed a talon at the base of the Guardian's neck but felt nothing. There was no pulse...and the Guardian had made no noise nor had she moved in all this time.... Yet her skin burned with a feverish life. Maisige moved to the end of the table and clasped the Guardian's foot firmly between her claws. It was here that a dragon's life-beat was strongest. Again she felt nothing. She waited a moment to be sure and then, after what seemed an eternity, she felt a faint thump. And then another. It seemed that the Captain Commander had been mistaken. No doubt she had forgotten to check more accurately in her grief. The Guardian was not dead. Not at all.
But if she wasn't now, she would be once the Council found out. Maisige shook her head. The High Priestess had never had anything against the Guardian personally. As much as she craved power, she did not wish the younger dragon any ill. And it seemed ridiculous to kill her over some childhood friend's fixation with humans. The human race was no threat, in her opinion, regardless that most of the Overlords in the Council seemed to think so. And there point of view was always held above her own. The Council viewed the Guardian as a threat and therefore, she was. There was nothing Maisige could do. She had already lost favor with her lord. Aidomar had been merciful thus far, but if he were to discover a Guardian with life still in her....well, Maisige was the one he would most likely take it out on.
She leaned in and whispered in the Guardian's ear. "I have no desire to kill you. Please believe me when I say that it is nothing personal, but the masters that I serve are much offended by you. No doubt you would not last very long if I allowed you to stay here. I do not know if you can hear me, but I have cut myself off from my lord to speak with you. This will have to be brief as I cannot stray too long from his presence before he notices and starts to get suspicious of me. I am giving you an opportunity for life, Mithaya. I hope that you will make your decision wisely, for if you ever attempt to return here I will have no choice but to have you killed. You are old enough, I think, to survive on your own. The time has come to say farewell."
The High Priestess dipped a talon in a jar filled with redberry dye and began to paint the ancient symbols on the body that was laid out before her. Afterwards, she would dress the wound more properly, and dose the Guardian with herbs to eliminate her fever. A few days supply of dried meat and water could be placed in the deep pockets of the burial garment, but once Mithaya was out of the lair it would be up to her to actually survive. The High Priestess finished the last stroke of dye upon the Guardian's brow. She straightened and examined her handiwork. Perfect. Wiping her talons on a piece of cloth, she walked out of the preparation room. There was still much that needed to be done.
"Why do people not notice until they lose it?
What it is that's truly important...
Although I can't afford to forgive even myself,
Because you were there,
I was able to be myself (Natural).
I want to be honest...I want to be kind...
I want to be the adult I once (in my childhood) longed to be.
I go on fighting against the heart to run away...
I go on fighting against that invisible something!"---
True Navigation: Two MIX