Excerpt: Wunderkind

Ilar dreamed. This time the dream was different. The previous dreams had all been part of a continuing story, vivid, and undeniably, at least while she slept, real. This was part of the story, but was by no means the next part, instead it had the feel of coming from a time before the story had ever begun.

She was dancing, incredibly happy, Twirling around and the round, first with a man, dressed in the clothes of a noble lord who danced with a trotting pace she copied with ease. Then he spun her into the arms of a small boy, who she lifted and twirled around, he laughed in delight. She could feel her guardian watching her, half in gladness of this one carefree night, and half in wariness. He was always nervous of events such as this, where anyone who wished her harm could enter and gain access to her, without him being able to stop them. She ran from the dance floor and grabbed his hands, dragging him to join her. He smiled, unable to refuse, her unbound joy was flowing between them, and he was unable to dampen it.
She danced with him for a short time, and then a pretty girl with golden hair and smiling lips tapped her on the shoulder and took his arms. She saw the way he looked at the girl, appraisingly, and was happy for him. The Icemelt festival gave permission for people to take leave of the strict laws that usually bound them. All there knew her and the guardian, and they knew of the reputations their kind where apt to gain, and this was the one night a year where they could take advantage. There where too few of their kind left now, few women where left for him. She of course, could have had her pick of men, but it was not the way of her kind, and few men stood a chance of matching her.
She flew into the arms of another man, and felt a thrill of recognition. He was handsome, the man of her dreams, though her dream self had never before seen him, and didn’t know him as such. She looked into his eyes heart pounding in excitement. Another of her kind! She had thought she knew all those that still lived, but here was one she had never before met. Her feelings, such intense emotions of joy, wonder and hope must have hit her guardian like a wave, and he broke from his partner, concerned.
He rushed to her side, and drew a sword, taking only one glance at her partner before deciding his need of it. He raised it to the man’s throat, and she stopped dancing, her smile fading slowly, confused at her guardian’s actions. Why was he reacting with aggression to this amazing event? He should be celebrating with her!

In confusion, she wondered if he had not felt their kinship as she had, and so she tried to explain, “He’s our kind! Our kin! What’s the matter, can’t you see it? When we thought all of them where lost, here is another, come home to us!” she smiled softly at him, and tried to send her happiness and relief across the bond between them, but perhaps she had sent more than she had meant to, for he stiffened, and raised his sword higher, letting free a trickle of blood from the mans neck.
“We are going.” Said the guardian. “We do not keep company with the likes of him.”
Confused, she let go of the mans hand, stepping towards her guardian, fearing that if she did not, he would kill her new found kin, and then she could never forgive him. She didn’t want that.
The guardian led her to their hoses in silence, and they mounted and rode, neither speaking to the other.
When they reached the crest of a hill that allowed them to look down on the dancers below, she stopped and dismounted, walking to the edge and straining her eyes for the chance to see him. She knew that back among the dancers he would be doing the same thing.
“What was that about!” she reprimanded the guardian; he too had dismounted and come to join her looking down on those below. He too was searching for the man.
He lifted his sword to show her the tip. He had not cleaned it before they had ridden, and that was strange, both of them where meticulous when it came to caring for their weaponry, blades such as theirs where not given to many, and did not come more than once a lifetime. The master who had forged them was long since dead, and few retained his knowledge of the art.
Staining the swords swirling blue and grey metal, run down to stain the centre all the way to the hilt, was a trickle of deep, charcoal black blood. She looked at it, understanding with sudden clarity, that the man was not human, and not of her kind, nor even the guardians. She shivered despite the warmness of the night.
The guardian passed her a small vial and a cloth, she unscrewed the top and let a few drops of liquid stain the cloth, then wiped her neck all over with it. The scent of roses filled her head and her mind cleared. She looked on her guardian, the unrestrained joy of earlier that night reigned in, but by no means absent. Very little could mar her feelings, and this man who was not a man had come close to it.
The guardian wiped his sword on the ground, clearing the blood from the precious blade. While she mounted her horse. Joy had fled this place, but their where still many hours till sunrise, if they where quick, then they could reach another township before the end of the night, and there would be more dances, for both him and her, and in the morning contests of strength and skill and horsemanship, all of which she would win. And then she would be donned with flowers, and laugh, forgetting the night, and what lay in it. Waiting.