Honor Silence

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flat, straight serenity with a lack of ruts or potholes.  The few trees and the whippy sprays of forsythia swayed like tremulous old bridges in the sibilant spring wind.  The same shushing gusts chivvied the masses of silver clouds into dark and melodramatic curtains on the light-complexioned sky.  </div> <div> "Rains be cursed by Al'hannon!" Ynyr muttered as the clouds opened up.  "Itametur's been drowning for three weeks! "</div> <div> Deamente snorted.  "Rains be only usual, Ynyr.  We're in a hollow bit of headland, beneath the mountains.  Of course Itametur is the collecting basin for all the rains in Ieturral.  I did warn you, when you moved down from your mountain peaks."</div> <div> "Fesjeth is hardly mountain peaks.  And neither's Jursief.  If I wanted to get wet, I'd have moved to Ietmar and played games with the King's guards," Ynyr retorted, wet and irritated.</div> <div> Deamente just laughed at her and ran on, matching Aiya stride for stride.  </div> <div> The path slanted slightly, taking them up one of the somber, condescending hills.  Now that they were closer, Ynyr saw that the contours of the land nearly hid the Guildhouse.</div> <div> It wasn't hard to hide.  Every piece of stone used for the lofty manor was covered in moss.  It looked almost like a child's castle of old boxes, sheathed in a shaggy green carpet.  Vines twisted up its supports, and concealed any windows the structure might have beneath their heart-shaped leaves.</div> <div> Ynyr stealthily tethered Aiya to a bush, away from the eerie green manor.  With a <I>come on</I> gesture, he stalked up the slope, his feet slipping on the wet grass and mud.  The wind picked up, and blew rain at their faces in cold silver needles.  Grimacing, Ynyr flicked aside the weight of her dripping hair and bent her head to the elements.</div> <div> Deamente was beside her now, muttering sourly about witchweather under his breath.  The carpeting of mosses was now close enough to touch, and some of it squished and sucked beneath her feet like wrung sponges.</div> <div> Delicately, they searched along the wall, peeling back vines, looking for openings.  Just as Ynyr began to think that the sorcerers transported themselves inside, Deamente's brown hand went <I>through</I> the wall.</div> <div> "Illusion," Ynyr hissed, pleased, and followed on Mente's heels.  A vine slapped her forehead, and she could feel the claustrophobic top of the doorframe just above her, and then she was through, inside the mansion.</div> <div> It was cool and airy within, and the globes of light at the arbor-like roof shed a dim green light.  Water trickled down the thick blocks-of beaten earth, Ynyr noticed, not stone-and swished through the shorter, thicker moss that covered the floor.  Here, too, the walls were rife with the shaggy stuff, broad swathes of emerald and malachite against the terra-cotta of the brick.</div> <div> The entire thing was more like an auditorium, with hummocks of mossy stone or earth that were chair-shaped, and a great tree growing up through the center.  </div> <div> Belligerently, Ynyr pushed onward, examining the miniature tables at each seat, and sweeping off any bottles or bits of plant on them before grinding them beneath her boot.  Deamente followed her example, almost gleefully.  But Ynyr saved the papers she found, and rescued them from her over-exuberant companion.  They might be of some use to her… </div> <div> At the last thud and tinkle, the air hummed and crackled with a sudden power surge.   When Ynyr turned toward the tree, she came face-to-face with a frowning, sun-browned man, muscular with a gardener's rough hands and a sorcerer's tint of gold to his angry grey eyes.</div> <div> "Who disturbs the peace?" he snarled, thorn-scarred hands clenching spasmodically.  "Who crushes the green things of the Earthen Gard?"  His straight dark hair fell over his Roman nose like a stallion's forelock.  </div> <div> "Tarirnt aur Yrrar," she said glibly.  Deamente glared.</div> <div> "I will never tell you!"  </div> <div> "That," the sorcerer told her, too calmly, "is a lie.  You have defaced my home, and mixed up my spells, and you were stealing my papers.  <I>Your</I> name, you, brown one, is now Amrbekt.  Forever.  And that is how long you'll remember.   Every moment of every day.  It may," he murmured, with a lift of dark eyebrow, "drive you mad.  It may be a gift.  You shall stay and be my apprentice; there is untutored power in you that needs taming."</div> <div> Deamente was gaping in shock, and he was far too surprised to dodge the spell the sorcerer flung at him.  Dark red-violet light illuminated him a moment, and then he stood as if paralyzed, stiff and panicked.</div> <div> "You are Ynyr aur Tarrant, elf," the baritone throb of a voice informed her.  "An unfitting name.  Be now…Honor Silence.  We have not listened to you, I see, but neither have you ever listened.  Now you shall be the best at listening on Kysegair.  Your own voice's whisper will be a shout, and you shall always hear it the loudest, out of all the things that reach your pointed ears.  Perhaps you'll be a tracker of note.  The city may be a bit noisy for you.  I will call you through <I>this</I>," and he waved his hand, suddenly full of a crudely wrought copper band, <I>"</I>when I have need of you. "  He paused.</div> <div> "It is a pity, Honor Silence, that you cannot also be my apprentice, but you know much of magic already, from your lady mother Auvarau.  So much, and yet so little…  Tell her of Vaythorn's well wishes before you go to…  Aumnisrd."  A flick of his earth-stained hands and an arrow of buff and gold erupted in a great soundless explosion around Ynyr.</div> <div> She dropped the papers, clapping her hands to her ears as they rang like cathedral bells. Vaythorn pushed the circlet over her head, prying up her fingers to fit it to her forehead, and waved his hand.</div> <bR> <bR> <div> Sound thundered against her ears, and she shrieked, only to wince as her own voice nearly deafened her. </div> <div> <I>Honor Silence</I>.  The word rang through her head, quieter then the thunder she realized had been her own pained moans.  Bitterly, she grimaced.  That was the irony, for the name Vaythorn had declared was what she would do all her days.  Her voice was agony in her ears.</div> <div> "Ynyr?" Auvarau's voice came, and it was, indeed, easier on her hearing.  </div> <div> Honor Silence stuck out her chin.  She would exploit Vaythorn's curse however she was able.  Silence, though comfortable on her senses, was not what she'd be getting.</div> <div> Determinedly, Honor stood, and stalked downstairs, her too-human nose jutting, to explain to her mother just what a <I>gift</I> Sorcerer Vaythorn had put on her daughter.  </div> <div> Her grin was grim, feral challenge, and she honored the silence of victory assured.</div> <bR> <div> Before she had the time to truly make use of her new talent, however, events occurred that rather…disrupted…her plans.  </div> <div> <<All I know,>> the big red-and-black dragon said in her head, plaintively, <<is that you should come back with me.  Us.  There are places just waiting for a young woman such as yourself.>>  His voice was the only thing she'd heard in a year that was at `normal' volume.</div> <div> "I really don't understand," Honor whispered, and winced.  </div> <div> <<Wait and see,>> said Delcitath, smugly.  His rider simply shook her head, haggard face expressionless, and offered Honor a hand up.  <<Aerlyas and I will take care of you….>></div> <bR> <div> <IMG SRC="0a112050.gif" border=0 width="274" height="261" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <IMG SRC="0a31ea60.gif" border=0 width="286" height="422" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <bR> <div> <IMG SRC="0a6a0e90.gif" border=0 width="672" height="745" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> Honor Silence, <I>nee</I> Ynyr aur Tarrant, </div> <div> Impressed Black-Rainbow Sirenth at <A HREF="http://www.geocities.com/darklingdawnweyr/" TARGET="_top" TITLE="http://www.geocities.com/darklingdawnwey"><U>Darkling Dawn Weyr</U></A>.</div> <div> Story coming ASAP.</div> </td> </tr></table></body>