Visions of Portent

Author: * Tavyth MorningStar - 7 Posts on this thread out of 13 Posts sitewide.
Date: Dec 16, 2003 - 00:03

Hours pass as my fay servant and I trot along on the grey mare. Lost though I am in inner reflection, I am not blind to the needs of either of my traveling companions. Stopping at a brook for the mare to quench her thirst, I suggest that my servant find herself some food. While she is thus engaged, I feed my own hunger with some dried meat I have concealed within my cloak. The fay returns shortly, bringing a green apple for our steed as well.

Refreshed and ready to ride, again we set out. Feeling the strength lent to me by my dear sister coursing through my body, I again attempt to divine a vision through the magic of my companion. I make contact for the slightest moment, as my mind is seized with the vision of claws slashing at my face!

Instinctively, I recoil, tumbling off the horse. With reflexes uncommon in one of my age, my form blurs as I tumble. Hands become paws as they reach for the ground. My ears crawl up to the top of my head and form points. Black fur spreads over my skin as my entire body shrinks down, farther and farther, until I am less than a fourth of my original size. The nimble grace of the cat takes over, and I land safely on all four paws before I am even fully aware of my change.

Full of confidence and feline indifference, I saunter to the side of the horse, and meow my discontent at the fay. Staring at her with emerald slitted eyes, again I make contact. A flash of a deadly snake snapping its venomous fangs, inches from my face! Again I flinch, breaking contact. Without even being fully conscious of the act, I raise my hackles and hiss at the perceived threat.

Regaining my composure, I rock onto my hind legs and pounce, allowing the momentum to springboard my metamorphosis back to human form. I remind myself that taking the form of an animal is a tool, not a crutch. I must not hide behind the veil of comfort I find in their shapes. Now fully human again, I find the visions quite disturbing.

One look at my fay companion bears witness to the toll these visions are taking on her. Beads of sweat dot her brow, and her cheeks are flushed, as if with great exertion. Another pang of guilt echoes within my heart. There was no call for me to seek these visions, save my own curiousity, but it is another who bears the hardship of that curiousity. “Fear not, my friend. I shan’t ask thee for another vision without just cause. For now, let my destiny unfold as it does for others, without the gift of foresight.”

With this, I offer my hand to my fay companion. Warily, she accepts it, and pulls me back onto the mare. On we trot toward the Crystal Cave, heedless of the great peril that lies in wait …