03-09-2020, 09:29 PM
He almost scoffs.
Something in him had to be ambitious - he <i>had</i> heard the call. (And there is something of the prodigal son in him. It had been in there, once. The want to defend and to protect and to help. It's bred too strongly in his blood for him to completely ignore it. Perhaps that was the part of him that had stirred at Straia’s magic.)
His brow furrows and for a moment, his green eyes glitter with all the things he wants to say.
Her magic silences him before he has the chance to make a fool out of himself.
Straia alters the world and the land and then he is back in Loess, no different than he left it. Her skill is so profound he almost believes her; it is only the unnatural sheen (like the perfection of a childhood memory) that tells him that this isn’t his Loess. This isn’t the home of his daughter.
So he does as she told him too. Kildare goes to the Mountain to get back what Beqanna demanded from him - his price for a promise he perhaps had been too young to make. The Mountain does not bend or yield. Worse. It does nothing. It doesn't even acknowledge that he exists. So he comes back again and again until finally, the Fairies reveal themselves to an older Kildare, one that does not look so hopeful and that has frown lines. He scowls at the Fairies when they tell him to prove himself, to keep his promises and perhaps they will keep one to him.
(When has magic ever been anything but fickle? But still - he heeds Straia's advice.)
He goes to prove himself - to keep his word.
He kisses his daughter goodbye and goes North. He discovers that Astana is truly gone (and Heartfire thankfully, going wherever creepy kidnapping mares vanish too). His Aunt finally emerges from the Taigan fog and though she is no longer the fleet-footed, copper girl who had laughed and danced across the moors, she smiles. ‘<i>I am okay,</i>’ she says. ‘<i>I will be alright.</i>’ He learns that his other Aunt is gone; Windskeep has made another demand of them.
He returns to Loess - older, heavier and burdened by these promises but wiser. His gift is still gone. He feels its loss with every gust that he can’t control, with every gale that blows through the hilly kingdom (and they are vacant of all the words he has ever heard the wind sing). His daughter is there. She smiles at him, older with children of her own. Mary - political, motivated, goddess - Mary is still there and he smiles at her too. Kildare sees troubles rippling across his dream but they fight them together; he defends and protects them. He even comes to the aid of a kingdom he once claimed he felt no allegiance for - fighting its battles and defending its borders.
Kildare, without his gift and without powers, becomes an accomplished fighter in their ranks. He goes North (and better yet, takes his daughter with him) to visit and two families merge together, become one, become reminiscent of the one they left behind and together the two strains forge and with time, heal.
He learns that these are the things that matter - not power or prestige or gifts.
These are the things that have always mattered.
(Perhaps it wasn’t Straia’s magic he needed as much as it was her call.)
In the end, the wind passes by him and he hears it.
He smiles.
Something in him had to be ambitious - he <i>had</i> heard the call. (And there is something of the prodigal son in him. It had been in there, once. The want to defend and to protect and to help. It's bred too strongly in his blood for him to completely ignore it. Perhaps that was the part of him that had stirred at Straia’s magic.)
His brow furrows and for a moment, his green eyes glitter with all the things he wants to say.
Her magic silences him before he has the chance to make a fool out of himself.
Straia alters the world and the land and then he is back in Loess, no different than he left it. Her skill is so profound he almost believes her; it is only the unnatural sheen (like the perfection of a childhood memory) that tells him that this isn’t his Loess. This isn’t the home of his daughter.
So he does as she told him too. Kildare goes to the Mountain to get back what Beqanna demanded from him - his price for a promise he perhaps had been too young to make. The Mountain does not bend or yield. Worse. It does nothing. It doesn't even acknowledge that he exists. So he comes back again and again until finally, the Fairies reveal themselves to an older Kildare, one that does not look so hopeful and that has frown lines. He scowls at the Fairies when they tell him to prove himself, to keep his promises and perhaps they will keep one to him.
(When has magic ever been anything but fickle? But still - he heeds Straia's advice.)
He goes to prove himself - to keep his word.
He kisses his daughter goodbye and goes North. He discovers that Astana is truly gone (and Heartfire thankfully, going wherever creepy kidnapping mares vanish too). His Aunt finally emerges from the Taigan fog and though she is no longer the fleet-footed, copper girl who had laughed and danced across the moors, she smiles. ‘<i>I am okay,</i>’ she says. ‘<i>I will be alright.</i>’ He learns that his other Aunt is gone; Windskeep has made another demand of them.
He returns to Loess - older, heavier and burdened by these promises but wiser. His gift is still gone. He feels its loss with every gust that he can’t control, with every gale that blows through the hilly kingdom (and they are vacant of all the words he has ever heard the wind sing). His daughter is there. She smiles at him, older with children of her own. Mary - political, motivated, goddess - Mary is still there and he smiles at her too. Kildare sees troubles rippling across his dream but they fight them together; he defends and protects them. He even comes to the aid of a kingdom he once claimed he felt no allegiance for - fighting its battles and defending its borders.
Kildare, without his gift and without powers, becomes an accomplished fighter in their ranks. He goes North (and better yet, takes his daughter with him) to visit and two families merge together, become one, become reminiscent of the one they left behind and together the two strains forge and with time, heal.
He learns that these are the things that matter - not power or prestige or gifts.
These are the things that have always mattered.
(Perhaps it wasn’t Straia’s magic he needed as much as it was her call.)
In the end, the wind passes by him and he hears it.
He smiles.