Topic: The Dream Amaranthine

Wyheree · Date: 2012-10-07 21:41 EST

Time kept turning, as was its fashion. Losses were still felt, but not as keenly - the sting far outweighed by the simple gift of life, three times over. When each St. Germain girl was christened, it was Wyheree who stood as Godmother of the non-Fairy sort, promising solemnly to help guide the little ones' paths along the right roads - an honor some considered to be merely a token, but one Wyh took very seriously.

When it was her turn to watch over baby Selene, guarding the child as she slept from whatever sought to take her from her cradle, Wyheree's thoughts would often turn down paths she had thought long closed to her - dreams long denied because of circumstances beyond her formidable abilities to control. Every shift brought wistful, wishful thinkings into full-blown longings - the sort of desires one cannot deny for long, despite the impossible odds and the hopeless deck stacked against them.

Finally, after gentle conversations (and perhaps some subtle nudging), Wyheree decided, at long last, to determine exactly what the accident that had cast her through the Ice Plane so many years ago had done to her not just on a magical level, but a physical level. And then, only then, could a path be found - one leading to what may indeed be possible, for after all, this WAS RhyDin.

Wyheree · Date: 2012-11-07 14:57 EST

Doctors - angels of mercy when one is sick and in need of a cure, but when one is healthy, but needing answers, doctors swiftly turned from angels into demons with their endless tests and procedures, some of which involved devices and instruments that would not be out of place in a dungeon's torture room.

Fortunately, Wyheree was blessed with a circle of very good friends, and the St. Germain's happily referred her to their family doctor - Maurin called her Doctor T, a kindly, yet no-nonsense woman who was not only highly skilled in diagnosing and treating normal folk, but also had a keen understanding of the physiology of some of the more unusual folk RhyDin attracted - magical species being her specialty. Her voice held a thick,almost melancholy accent as she went over Wyh's chart with her.

"Overall, you are in excellent health. I can find no lingering effects of the trials you mentioned from five years ago - except the scar, of course, but that could very well heal on its own." The doctor flipped a page, continuing to speak as Wyh listened.

"I would like to run a few more tests, to determine the extent of the scarring we found in the last batch of scans. Even though it's been a long, long time, I am confident much can be repaired." The doctor smiled, closing the chart.

"Now, is there anything you want to ask?" Wyheree tilt her head at the doctor, disbelief coloring her expression.

"You are sure repair is possible" I was always told such a thing was impossible, that I was fortunate to even be alive after the counterspell went so wrong." Doctor T gave Wyh an indulgent smile.

"You are from a place of magic, yes? In your world, what you were told is very likely correct - the spell would have caused massive disruption, far beyond the skill of a conventional healer, I would think. Here, there is not only magic, but technology to heal - and I truly believe that the procedures available now can set you on the path you desire." She scribbled on a pad, tearing off a sheet to give to the Ice Mage. "That is the name of a colleague of mine, one who specializes in the reproductive systems of magical beings - set up a consultation with her, and she and I will then know how best to remove the scar tissue. After you make the appointment, contact me with the date and time, so that I may be there as well." Wyh nodded, shaking the good doctor's hand as she stood, clutching the paper in the other.

"Thank you, Doctor - I will make the appointment at once. For the first time, I have hope." The doctor smiled as the Ice Mage left her office.

"That is why I am here."

Roran · Date: 2012-11-26 19:20 EST

Roran always felt somewhat helpless on these visits. He considered himself an intelligent being, indeed by most objective standards, Roran was very much an academic. Had he stuck to that path, he could have followed his mother's footsteps and become a professor at any University he chose within the Empire (and a few outside).

But in matters such as this, of biology (and more to the point, Hooman biology), he was very weak. He knew of course that such a thing as she desired was possible, but the finer details of how it would be accomplished were far, far beyond Roran.

And then, there were the complications - the old injuries and damage done to her, long ago. Some just before he had met her....others long, long ago when she first became what she was. (Magic - another subject in which he, like all A'Tarans, was woefully weak.)

But these were details, things that could be addressed. What mattered most in the eyes of the Gods, was the intent, the desire, the wishes of the heart. And it was so clear that she wanted this to be.

And Roran' Well, to understand the implications of that question, one would have to have a far greater understanding of the A'Taran race....of their intrinsic veneration of the act of Life...of just how precious new life was to them.

It might not be possible to want this more than she did. But the Gods knew, Roran was right behind her.

Roran · Date: 2013-05-29 20:32 EST

"You are positive" Yes, of courrrse. Tell herrr that I will make all the arrrrrangements."

Wyheree stood at the door of the Arena, finishing up an evening of practice, to see Roran bidding farewell to someone. She saw only the hint of a grey tail before he turned around.

"Kaa'tha"" she queried, using the A'Taran word for bondmate. It had so many more nuances than that, but entire books had been written trying to define it completely. "What was that all about?"

Roran turned in the doorway, looking unperturbed as always. Though his ear was flicking just slightly, which in him was a sign of excitement. "That was a messenger from my motherr. She has explained the situation to Healer M'Reya. And the Healer has agrrreed to meet with us." More ear flickering. "Moreover, she will travel herrre."

Wyheree knew just how few A'Tarans chose to pass the borders of the Empire. Roran and Norah, his mother, were two of the rare few. To have convinced a Healer (equivalent to a doctor, but with many more implications) to do so, was a noteworthy feat. Particularly considering the outlook that the majority of the race had on non-A'Tarans - and especially relations between the two.

"Truly' When will she be arriving?"

"In seven days. I am not surrrre how she will rrreact to the portal to the Manorrr. Perhaps we should choose a..., " Roran sought for the word he wanted. "Neutrrral location?"

Roran · Date: 2013-12-04 10:24 EST

The past six months had been something of a blur. The meetings with the Healer and with other healers from other lands (including the strangest half-sized healer mage from a far land, one with a bizarre rhyming accent), and finally their journey to the Empire itself.

Even now, travelling into the heart of the A'Taran Empire could be a daunting thing. The ancient twins of xenophobia and racial superiority were never too far from the surface, and the fact that she was a mage was the icing on the proverbial cake. Not that she went out of her way to call attention to that fact, but his people were paranoid enough that you could not sneak a mage past the Gate and not be noticed.

Wyheree had done her best to charm those whom she had met, and so far it had countered any outright opposition - but there were rumblings. And when it become known what they were seeking to do?

The phrase 'better to seek forgiveness than to ask permission' came often to Roran's mind. But he was willing to put it off as long as possible.

Wyheree · Date: 2015-01-26 21:38 EST

Doctors, by and large, are marvelous people - burning with the desire to help, to heal, to make the world better, one patient at a time. But, as often is the case, doctors aren't enough - and such seemed to be the case with Wyh and Roran's greatest wish. Despite consulting with a myriad of specialists in RhyDin, the A'Taran Empire, and beyond the stars, what they so greatly wanted seemed as far away as those stars - teasing with the light close enough to touch, but ever out of reach.

But this is RhyDin, after all - and sometimes all it takes is a wish, or a hope and a prayer half-voiced to make the nigh-impossible come true, beyond all reason and understanding.

Wyheree was on her way back to the Manor after a long visit with the St. Germains, who had just welcomed their latest addition - a little boy for the trio of ladies to adore, a prince with wisps of dark hair already curling on his forehead, and eyes that were usually closed in sleep - but when opened, they were a starling shade of pale blue not normally seen until a babe was a little older. When the Ice Mage finally gave in to the coaxing and pleading of her dear little goddaughters, cradling little Keith gingerly (for she'd never held an infant so small, having waited until the girls were a little older to cuddle them), she felt....a spark. A subtle, yet insistent surge of warmth - of life - flowing from where Keith was cuddling into her bosom, through her veins, until her very blood sang with a sense of possibility.

That feeling nearly took Wyheree off her feet, and after settling Keith back in his naturally-concerned mother's arms, she excused herself and immediately hastened to her entrance zone, and was gone in a classic swirl of ice and mist. Only this time, the happy gurgle of a contented infant echoed after her.

Wyheree · Date: 2016-01-01 22:00 EST

Snow drifted over the lake, sparkling when the moonlight caught the flakes just so, suffusing the St. Germain's cabin with an air of peace and tranquility. That is, once the excitement of the New Year and dual birthday celebrations settled down.

It had been an unseasonable warm winter so far, so the thickening snow was a welcome sight for Wyheree. She and Roran rocked on the old porch swing, letting contentment settle over them like the well-loved afghan Roran insisted on tucking around his kaa'tha's legs. The past year had been a rollercoaster of emotion for them - from realizing their long-held wish might be reality, to realizing exactly what they needed to do to insure their dream did not become their worst nightmare.

Doctor T insisted Wyheree stay away from her Manor, stating the mutable time of its pocket dimension might have unforeseen, possibly devastating consequences. Fortunately, Toby and Tabitha stepped in, offering their home for as long as they needed - not that their little ladies and gentleman objected. In fact, little Keith, who had his moments of great fussiness, was easily calmed and soothed by his Auntie Wyh, much to the relief of the sometimes-beleagured St. Germains.

As the moon continued its slow ascent into the night sky, Wyheree and Roran rested on the porch, the swing creaking faintly as they rocked back and forth. No words were spoken - no words needed to be spoken between them. Soon, very soon, they would prove that wishes did indeed come true, and that truly anything was possible in RhyDin.

Wyheree · Date: 2016-02-22 15:24 EST

"Vitals are fluctuating - she's all over the place!"

"Have her wait - push every other!"

"Can't - when she pushes, the child goes into distress - when she doesn't push, SHE goes into distress!"

"Do Something - anything!"

Voices swirled, blending and blurring, the line between what was and what could be growing less solid by the moment. How long had this been gong on' Minutes, hours, days" Sweat shone silver on her forehead, lovingly daubed with ice water - or was that a dream...

"We need to get the child out - NOW!"

"Are you mad?" That could spell the end of her!"

"If we don't we could lose both of them!"

"Ammmie!"

"Keith - no! I'm so sorry - I had him in the playroom but he's so fast now that he's walking - "

"Someone get that boy - "

"WAIT - she's stabilizing!"

Beeps and whooshes, once frantic, now pulsed slow and even. Tiny hands flailed in the air, bright baby gurgles sounding almost like a coaxing cheer. A soft growl, low and pleading...

"Just a little more, kaa'tha - one more push and our miracle will be here...

A sharp cry echoed around the room, followed by a gasp of awe, then silence.

A heartbeat, then two...

Another babbled cheer...

And then, an unmistakable mewling cry.