Songs of Nicholas Roy (Van) [completed]

[Dhanya]

"Take a breath, I've never done this before. I couldn't recognise what it was at first, I don't quite know what will happen." She said, not taking the time to warn him more, worried that she might lose her resolve.

She reached inside of herself, to the pool of djed she kept stored. She kept her eyes open, feeling the bond and everything within her that had made it, until inside her mind was a nest of ideas and emotions, imbued with her own power. She set them free, so that Van could feel them, not hiding that they were her feelings and not his. She was not seeking to mislead him, only to show him.

It was like being punched in the gut. A clear sign of her inexperience and also a reflection on the strength of a Kelvic's emotions, a barrage that they weathered every day of their lives. Van could feel Pygmy's love for him, her dedication focused into the form of the bond. It was like a rope, though as strong as metal chain. It held her down and dulled her, Van could feel how much of her external persona had become a reflection of him. Within that there was confusion and regret. She felt ashamed and abandoned, discarded because of what she was. That belief would remain within Van's mind for a long time, like a bitter aftertaste.

Within the storm Van could see shades of knowledge that Pygmy had not wished to impart to him. Her loneliness, her self-hatred and her struggle to understand her own nature. There was a desire for affection that hid beneath her outward confidence, old wounds of rejection. He could now see that she had been a slave, though she had tried to hide that and hadn't known she was giving him so much of herself in that moment.

And there, roaring at the centre of her thoughts, screaming and full of teeth, was her fight to be free. Free to make her own choices, free to love someone who would return the strength of her commitment. He could taste her anger at having lived with him, the first man she had ever lived with, only to be replaced by someone Drykas. All that she had offered and she had offered everything within her, had not been enough. She lived to serve, without wanting to and without being wanted. Without realising that had been what she had offered.

The bond was so firm between them, he could feel it now through the mirror of Pygmy's self. He felt her reach out to it and tear into it, as if with her own fingers sinking into her flesh. It gave way and Van could have sworn he could feel his own blood dripping from his gut. Pygmy's emotions were gone from his mind with the sound of her cry. She shouted wordless, not even loudly enough to spook the horses and it was done.

Her face was grey and clammy with sweat. She looked ill and spent, almost wavering in the breeze.

[Vanator]

Following Pygmy's instructions, Vanator took a deep breath. He was curious and confused, having no idea what she was going to do. The breath could not prepare him for what he experienced next. A blast struck his psyche and exploded in his chest, in an instant he was flooded with Pygmy, at once everything she was assaulted his conscious. He could feel that she did love him, he saw the weight of the bond that grew from it, how it dominated the Kelvic's being, how it bent her to his will. He saw how Pygmy had accommodated him, driven to please him and seeing nothing in return from him. He felt acutely the furstration and shame it had cause her. "Oh Gods," he cried, his hands clutching his chest, feeling the brunt of a season of pain and rejection in one breath of time. Unbidden he felt the depth of her loneliness, her need for affection that he denied, that she had never found acceptance and....she was a slave. Gods, she had been a slave. Then he felt the torment he had caused her, a season of waiting for him to accept her, to acknowledge her, to finally love her. In the most cruel feat, he had taken her to his bed, only to abandon her for another almost immediately, like she was something to be used....like a slave. Van could not take it, he sank to his knees, his head in his hands, groaning. If he had a sword he would have fallen on it. "Make it stop! MAKE IT STOP!" He felt as if the Kelvic had gripped the cord between them and with a vicious yank, tore it from him. Van groaned until it was a growl, He still held his head in his hands, his senses overloaded and his mind crushed by all that he had learned of Pygmy, what he had felt of her. "Oh gods Pygmy, Oh gods. I had no idea, I didn't know Pygmy." Vanator, the vaulted heir of the Denusk Pavilion kneeled in the grass before the small woman, crushed and broken.

[Dhanya]

Few things in life were true. Sounds were true. She could hear the horses, whickering about to each-other, so they were real. The wind across the plains was real, so was her breath and that implied that perhaps she was real as well. There was thunder far in the distance, maybe rain would follow it and that would be doubly real, she would hear and smell it first, then feel it.

She raised a hand to her face, turning into it and marveling that her head had not caved from the touch. She was hollow now. A hollow woman. The pain had dulled, with not much left behind.

She could see, in fact her eyes had never closed. She'd mistaken the clear sky above her for blindness. She dropped her head and saw Van before her, though it took minutes before she could understand the words. Every stored word, every learned response seemed to be gone. She waited to see if they would return to her.

When you grieve, anger comes before acceptance.

"Who does know Pygmy?" She asked, and her voice seemed so distant, as if it had come from someone else. "I don't."

She looked up again. It was easier on her neck, with her head flopping backwards.

"There's a play I used to like... Had a nice line about how a man had been made worms' meat. Did you make worms' meat out of me as well?"

Lucidity seemed a lost cause, until Pon appeared behind her and touched her with his muzzle. Pon was real. If Pon knew she was there, then she was definitely real. She was just confused. Hopefully that would pass. Every part of her ached, down to the soul. She would choose better next time, if there was one.

"Give me a new name and I'll go." She said, slowly limping towards Van and offering her hand, despite how much it hurt to do it. "Then you can forget and carry on. I will too."

She was tired and stumbling and still sounded so strange and unlike herself. At least she had stopped hurting them both. The trial was over and the bond was forever gone.

[Vanator]

A long moment passed as the two, now individuals, recovered from the trauma of the bond -breaking. One of them seemed devoid of emotion, the other, crushed by it. Still kneeling, Van turned his face up to Pymgy when she finally spoke. She was different, very much so. Her voice was unusually pensive and distant, void of the exuberance that had framed most of his conversations with her. She spoke of a play and making worm meat out of her. The Drykas, worn and still in shock, could not discern what the woman was talking about. Vanator simply stared at her slack-faced. She still had the heart-shaped face, the goat-like amber eyes. But the woman standing over him was...different. She moved slowly, deliberately, and though she spoke as if she were not in her right mind, her demeanor was of one who was very much in control. They were still there, the feelings for her, but they were...muted. Van still reeled from the unexpected turn of events when Pon nudged Pygmy. She seemed to respond to the pony's contact, shuffling wearily towards him, her hollow voice rising to make a strange request. Van took Pygmy's offered hand, the small Kelvic woman helping the stunned Drykas horselord to his feet. He did not question why he should be given the task of naming her. Something had passed between them, and Vanator realized, somehow, he had been part to the larger drama that had been Pygmy's life. He had seen only glimpses of what she had endured during the breaking of the bond, and it had broken his spirit. Dark-rimmed brown eyes, the usually bright flecks of gold now dim, caught the Kelvic's gaze. He wanted to apologize in a never ending flow of repentance. He wished that Tanroa would send him back, give him the chance to do it all over again. He swore to the Goddess that he would not do the same thing to Pygmy a second time. But the goddess granted him no such boon. There was one last thing Vanator could give to Pygmy. He did not let go of her hand, not yet, but held it loosely. "Dhanya." He spoke the name softly, reverently, but confidently, as if presenting an offering to a deity. "It means, 'woman who deserves respect'. And I will never forget you, Dhanya."

[Dhanya]

She would have described the agony as unnatural, had it not born with a surprising clarity. She felt simultaneously incomplete and more herself than she had been for a season. Dhanya wondered how much of it had been self inflicted but to her great relief, she now felt as if she hated Van a little. She had always oscillated madly between blaming the ills she endured entirely on others or entirely on herself. This at least presented a medium. She would not give herself away so greatly or so easily a second time, especially without being asked. She now felt empowered to make the choice that she had so casually ignored before.

Dhanya. Respect.

"It's a good name." She replied, rolling the word around on her tongue, getting used to the sound. "Dhanya. Not bad at all."

She was hurting and angry, though pleased with herself and more at home in her skin. She was herself again. A new self, it seemed, though one more in keeping with the younger sense she'd had. She looked up at Van and could feel shades of her old love for him, could see what had attracted her to him in the first place. His strength, his protectiveness, his kindness. To her horror she realised he somewhat resembled Jenon, if you looked at him sideways. It was the lines around his eyes, which seemed to protect a nest of thoughts she'd never asked either man about. She wondered if she'd known him at all and whether she'd let him know her.

"You are such a bastard." The words bubbled forth and she decided to let them be spoken. "Such an utter, unassuming bastard."

New name or no, Dhanya still spoke like a Zeltivan fallen from social grace. Her accent was stronger now, clipped but easy in the air. Dhanya held her head high, not looking for a confrontation, just wanting to hold herself up. To speak impulsively to the man she had tried to please by sublimating the parts of herself that he wouldn't like as much. She could see why, now. She wasn't exactly couth. The direct opposite in fact. She would need to consider that carefully.

"I am leaving now. Live as you will," She stumbled walking over to her horse.

She still felt as though she had been beaten half to death and she knew the nex few days would be replete with tears. Still, for now she could revel in the beginning and cower in her pain and loss. She could pick up the pieces.

She looked at him one last time, contemplating whether or not to say anything else, then decided what was done, was done. She gently pulled the rein and turned Pon away, leading him out onto the Sea and towards their future.

[Vanator]

Vanator stood before Pygmy...Dhanya, dazed and miserable. It was as if the past season was a dream, that he had missed reality completely. He still reeled from the affects of the bond-breaking, the Kelvic bond that he still did not understand. The cascade of Pygmy that had assailed him during the traumatic event, her emotions, glimpses of her past, still haunted his conscious. Dhanya was different. Weary from the breaking, Van could see the exhaustion, anger and dejection in her cold eyes. But her demeanor and tone belied something different. There was a confidence. Not the feigned bravado that Pygmy had employed to cover her insecurities. This was a confidence born out of necessity. It was finding value in herself where she had once sought her worth from others, from him. But he had failed her. The pain of his regrets and guilt, too late felt, were rubbed heavily with the salt of Dhanya's final words. Bastard. It was a word spoken with the venom of hate. It crushed his soul, because only now could he truly see how he had crushed hers. There was no farewell from the Kelvic, for he believed she truly did not care if he fared well or not. Van did not feel the same. If he could of made it up to her somehow he would have. But he knew she was no longer the Pygmy that had lived with him. Dhanya was through with him, despised what he had done to Pygmy. Vanator watched her turn and leave, a minute spark coming to life as she turned back, only to die out as she continued to walk away without a word. She disappeared as the herd of Striders closed around again, as poignant as if a door had been shut in his face.

[Tundris]

Pygmy Intimidation: +2 Hypnotism: +1 Lore: The Woes of a Drykas Son, Desires Beyond Kelvic Instincts, Confessions of a Goat Soul, How To Breath A Kelvic Bond Vanator Riding: +1 Rhetoric: +1 Lore: Delicate Words For A Broken Heart, A Goat's Worth, The True Nature of Kelvics (Pygmy), Warning: Breaking A Kelvic Bond May Be Painful Notes: Pygmy, I gotta say your character really deserved the character of the month award because you have made her into an incredibly dynamic and matured character. Full props there! I enjoyed the read, although I wish you openly referred to the hypnotism with specific detail a little more, everything I took from Pygmy's 'manipulative' actions were less about how she experienced using the skill and were more about the affects (the breaking of the bond). Correct me if I misunderstood but where did your character use hypnotism the most? During the part where she breaks the bond? Was that an illusion of sorts to help Vanator move on, or was that a real interpretation of what kelvic bond breaking is like? Anyhow I'd love to hear your thoughts! Toss me a pm if you like.