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Rated: E · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1468874
when dreaming... isn't dreaming
WYRM's Gauntlet Round Two Entry

Prompt:  They never close their eyes.


Dreamers


~*~*~*~


The door slammed open with a resounding bang as they entered the tavern.  Aerianna grabbed the door as it bounced back, threw her weight behind it and shoved it closed, shutting out the storm - gale winds, rain, sleet, snow and unnatural darkness.  Aerilyn stopped just inside the room and gazed around, her eyes taking in the dimness of the lighting, as well as the occupants.  By the time she turned to her companions, she knew how many were present, who was dangerous and what weapons they carried.  After all, that was why she was there – because she was the one who would know things like that.  Dain-el gazed longingly at the fire in the hearth as he waited patiently for his companions.  His ears swiveled round and back picking up bits and pieces of conversation while his nostrils flared in appreciation of the delectable aromas wafting into the room from the adjoining kitchen.  He looked forward to sinking his teeth into the roast venison and fresh bread he could smell cooking. 

The door closed, Aerianna leaned against it and wondered again how long they were going to be in that backwater town on the most remote planet in the Coalition, especially with its foul weather and lack of modern conveniences.  Sighing, she looked at her companions and nodded.  Aerilyn led the way to an empty table near the fire.  They were all thoroughly soaked and chilled from the storm they had just left.  The proprietor met them at the table and asked what he could do for them.

“Hot meals, wine and two rooms please,” Aerilyn replied.

“Certainly.”  The innkeeper gestured to a serving girl and when she came over told her to fetch three meals, a bottle of Greymoon and prepare two rooms at the back for their visitors.  “May I ask how long you will be staying?”

“That depends on how quickly we can transact our business,” Dain-el replied softly.  Even speaking softly, his voice was rough and threatening.  “Hopefully only a day or two at the most.”

The tavern owner had gotten used to seeing strange folk come through, but Dain-el’s voice clearly indicated that these folk were not ones to mess around with.  Bowing, he said their meals and rooms would be ready soon and scurried away as soon as he could.

Sighing, Aerianna asked Dain-el, “Did you have to frighten him?  Now he’s going to talk and that will just make our job more difficult.”

“I didn’t like the way he was eyeing the two of you,” he relied gruffly.  “The last thing we need is someone trying to kidnap the two of you for the slave market.  Anyway, if he talks in the right places, then it should make our mission easier, not harder.  Would you not agree?” he asked with a raised brow.

“Maybe.”  Aerilyn said, her voice chiming gently in the noisy room.  She spread her cloak out across the back of her chair.  “We knew when we were assigned this mission that finding the Dreamer would not be easy.”

“If he knows that someone is looking for him, he will be that much harder to find.  I still say Dain-el should have kept his mouth shut,” Aerianna countered.  “He’s got to know that someone will come looking.  Dreamers are rare enough and dangerous enough that the Coalition can’t afford to let any remain unregistered and untaught.  Letting him know that strangers, especially off-world strangers, are in the area is bound to spook him.”

“You always worry too much,” Dain-el snapped before Aerilyn could reply.  “Just relax and enjoy the rustic environment.”  He laughed when Aerianna glared at him and turned to take his plate from the serving girl who had arrived with their meals.  His nails clicked gently against the bottom of the ceramic plate as he set it down.  Taking his knife from his belt he speared a morsel of meat, swirled it in the gravy and, as he bit into the tender meat, growled softly, his version of a purr.  Real meat is a rarity and I plan on enjoying this meal. Maybe before we leave I can convince Aerilyn to stock up on select cuts from the local market.  Even dried, it's better than the processed stuff they called meat back on my home world.

Breaking off a piece of bread and slathering it generously with fresh butter, Aerilyn watched him eat and grinned.  He’s going to want to take some of that with us if I know him.  Oh well.  We have room and it does smell good.  She thought. I wouldn’t mind stocking up on some of this bread and butter. Replicated meals are nutritious but lacking in freshness and flavor.

Frowning, Aerianna attacked her meal with a ferociousness that told the others she was still angry and seething.  Stabbing meat and vegetables quickly, yet efficiently, she muttered and chewed, ignoring Aerilyn and Dain-el. Our plans for retrieving the Dreamer depended on speed and secrecy.  She seethed quietly. Having our presence broadcast will not(!) help.

Aerilyn reached across the table and laid a hand on Aerianna’s wrist.  “We’ll find him.  Don’t fret,” she reassured her.

“I know,” Aerianna muttered. “But I still don’t like it.”

“It’s done.  All we can do now is move forward and finish quickly.”

Aerianna nodded and resumed eating more calmly.  “Did you find out anything interesting when we came in?”

“Others know he’s here too.  There are two hunters in the back corner.  With any luck they will flush him right to us.”

“I hope so.  I'm not looking forward to spending days here searching.  Not if that storm we came through is any indication of the weather around these parts.”

“Ah – but the food is so good.”  Dain-el teased.  “It’d be a shame to rush off without enjoying it.”

“You and your stomach,” Aerianna snapped. “We should have left you on Ramakia with the wild animals if you enjoy your meat that much.”

“You’d miss me too much.”

“Don’t you two start up again,” Aerilyn scolded. “I swear.  The two of you are just like my nieces and nephews – always bickering.  Chill!”

~*~*~*~


Closing the door, Aerilyn glanced around.  “I wonder why we rated back rooms.”

“I don’t know.  Maybe he just wanted to make sure we had a quick easy way to the exit.”  Aerianna chuckled.  “After all Dain-el did frighten the man.”

“What…”

Looking at Aerilyn, Aerianna realized she had lost her attention. “Why – he gave us back rooms.  Remember… your question…” She shook her head when Aerilyn just nodded.  No use talking to her until she’s settled.  I swear that woman can try a meilki’s patience.  Aerianna shrugged and thought.  She flung her pack on the bed and began checking her gear.

A few minutes later someone knocked and Aerianna opened the door to admit Dain-el.  He walked in and set his pack in the corner.  “I see she’s already started,” he said nodding to Aerilyn.  “Has she said anything yet?”

“Not yet.”  Aerianna sat back on the bed. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be I guess.”  Dain-el sat in the only chair the room contained and rolled his shoulders. 

Both companions sat patiently and waited for Aerilyn to speak, each lost in their own thoughts.

~*~*~*~


The message came as they were leaving the Orion System.  “Ripples in the space aura indicate potential Dreamer activity in the Malakii System strongest near Sularias.  Investigate immediately, retrieve Dreamer – then report back to Base for further instructions.  Do not – repeat – do not bring Dreamer to Base.”  Each face showed varying degrees of surprise.  The Vegas Team usually handled retrieval missions and each member of the Esprit Team wondered why they weren’t handling this one – but asking questions would not help.  The Base never explained their reasons for doing things. 

Dain-el plotted the new course while the women stowed the gear and buckled in.  “We have two days before we reach Sularias.  Any ideas how we’re going to track and retrieve a Dreamer?”

“I’ve tracked Dreamers before… but it’s been many years.  I don’t think tracking’s going to our problem.  It’s getting away that’s going to be the problem.  Dreamers are usually children… children with some type of physical and mental handicap.”  Aerilyn sighed and leaned back in her seat.  “It’s the accident which causes the handicap that usually triggers the Gift.  With modern medical technology and cloning capabilities, it’s rare that anyone gets severely hurt and doesn’t get immediate medical attention.”

Seeing the confused looks she continued.  “It’s the suffering that triggers the Gift.  If – the potential is there.  The mind and body can only handle so much pain and trauma without cracking.  In cases of severe trauma the surface mind shuts down and internalizes the trauma.  In pre-space flight days, the person usually suffered unaided until they either adapted or were committed to an asylum.  It wasn’t until space flight was developed and we began exploring the galaxy that anyone realized what was really happening.  Apparently… severe trauma triggers psychic abilities in those with the potential.

Dreamers are special.  Unlike empaths and telepaths, they have the ability to manipulate the actual flow of space and time.  It causes ripples in the space-time continuum and that’s what triggers the alert.  Imagine being able to control the flow of time or space.  Being able to travel hundreds of thousands of miles in only minutes.  Or being able to slow time and do whatever you want during that time.  I guess it wouldn’t matter so much except that it creates a bubble in the STC that grows each time they use the ability.  Uncontrolled, they could rip the fabric of time and space itself.  Sort of like the big bang old scientists used to talk about.”

“But isn’t that just like telekinesis?” Aerianna asked.

“Yes and no.  Telekinesis is instantaneous.  Dreaming – or rather daydreaming – isn’t.  Telekinesis punches a hole through the fabric of time that heals immediately.  Dreaming creates a bubble that expands and weakens the fabric.  If they’re doing something or going somewhere and they begin to dream, some call it daydreaming, the ability is activated.  Most don’t even realize what they’re doing unless it creates a large gap in time or distance because the bubble expands and affects those around them.”

“Ouch!  I can see now why there’s a special watch for them.  So how do you retrieve them or even catch them if they can dream their way so far and so quickly?”

“You have to catch them unaware and once you’re close enough, if they dream then you’re carried along the flow with them.  Let’s hope this one is too new to realize what they can do.”

“So basically we’re going to kidnap a child and hope they don’t dream us into oblivion.”

“Basically.  Now you know why there’s a special team the usually does retrievals.  They have a trained Dreamer on their team that can control the space time flow and prevent accidents.”

“Will you be able to control the Dreamer?”

“Probably not completely.  Which is why I'm glad I have you guys to help.  As long as we keep the Dreamer’s attention in the here and now, they can’t dream and we’re safe.”

“That means we won’t be able to close our eyes until the Dreamer’s delivered.”

“Exactly – they never close their eyes… those inner eyes that activate dreaming…and neither can we.”

~*~*~*~


A knock at the door sent both Orianna and Dain-el reaching for weapons; Aerilyn stood and went to the door.  Glancing once at both companions, she opened the door and stood back.  A cloaked figure came through the door cautiously, head swiveling to take in the entire room.  As Aerilyn closed and locked the door, their company threw back the hood of his cloak and stood a few steps in from the door waiting.  The silence was thick; Orianna shivered.

“Can we help you?” she asked.

“Perhaps.  I sincerely hope so.”  Reaching up, he unfastened his cloak and drew it from his shoulders.  If appearances were anything to go by, he was a man in his middle years, dark hair just beginning to grey, fit, muscular, with a military bearing.  Though dressed simply in greys and blacks his clothing, local cut and style, was well made and fit perfectly.

Either a soldier or some sort of law enforcer. Orianna thought. Wondered where his weapon’s stashed.  “How can we help you?”

“Jorge told me you were here.  We don’t often get off-world visitors.”

Orianna resisted the urge to glare at Dain-el. “That still doesn’t tell us why… or how… we can help you.”  She kept her voice level and non-threatening with effort.

Shrugging he looked around; then took a seat on the other bed. “Well… I would like to know what you’re doing here.”

“And if I said we were here on vacation?”

“Come now.  I know I don’t look that stupid.  The last time we had off-world visitors, a child went missing the same time they left.  Kidnapping is still against the law.  This time there are three groups of off-worlders present.  You could say I'm a bit concerned.”

Aerilyn shot Orianna a look and stepped away from the door with a slight shake of her head.  She spotted the hunters in the dinning hall, but the others must be staying elsewhere.  Now she understood why her group had been chosen.  Command must know that others are looking too.  Taking a deep breath she walked around the bed and faced their visitor.

“No.  You don’t look stupid.  I'm Aerilyn, leader of the Esprit Team.  This is Orianna, our weapons specialist.”  She nodded toward her companion. “And that’s Dain-el, our pilot.  We were sent here for a specific purpose – to retrieve a Dreamer.”  Making eye contact, she asked, “Who are you… and why are you here?”

“A Dreamer?  What the hell…” Clearly startled, he looked at each of them for a long moment.  “My name is Stephan.  I'm what you might call the local guardian.  Law enforcement around here sucks; so, after the last kidnapping, the locals decided to hire their own.”

“Just how many kidnappings have there been?” Dain-el asked.

“Five in the last ten years.  The last was three years ago.  I almost had them, but that trained dog of theirs got off a lucky shot that almost killed me.”

“Dog?”

“Well that’s what it looked like – only it walked – and—shot like a man.”

Dain-el’s ears laid back along his skull and he looked at Aerilyn.  “Command doesn’t hire Worgs.  It was hunters.”  His voice was flat and threatening.  He hated Worgs; they were the equivalent of just that – trained dogs, very little intelligence but excellent reflexes and hunting skills.  “Are there any here now?”

“Not this time.  Although from Jorge’s description of you I did wonder.”

“Worgs are stupid.  Cunning but stupid.” He growled softly. “We’re not related!”

“Dain-el is a Kylein, Stephan.  They come from the same planet but are bitter enemies,” Aerilyn explained.  “You know what Dreamers are – how?”

“I'm not native.  I came here several years ago to escape the feuds and wars on Draxel.  My sister was a Dreamer.”

“Was?”

“She’s dead now.  Killed in a feud when she came home to visit.”  He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “She was taken away after her accident.  God – she was only ten years old.  Five years older than me.  It was another ten years before I saw her again.”

“So she told you about her Gift and what Dreamers were.” It was more of a statement than question.  Aerilyn’s voice chimed softly as she focused all her attention on Stephan.

“Yea.”  Stephan closed his eyes, remembering, and silence filled the room for several minutes. Then his eyes opened, glazed over with a far away look. “In the old days, when someone suffered a severe trauma of some kind it caused changes in that person’s behavior.  They used to call it Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome or Disorder.  For some reason children seemed more resilient and did not react as adults did.  It wasn’t until many years later that anyone realized that children were affected just as severely… if not more so. Sari said it was like fixing broken vases.  Adults were finished vases, their thought patterns, morals, ideas, the essence of who they were had become clearly defined… in a way it was like who they were was set in stone.  Children were like clay, not yet hardened, not yet set…

“When something traumatic happened to an adult it was like a vase breaking.  You could repair it, glue the pieces back together, but it would never be as strong as it was before and no matter how carefully it was repaired, the cracks and damage would always be visible.

“With children it was different… easier to fix… and in skilled hands the damage could be fixed so it would never show – like it had never happened. 

“Sari told me it was like a potter leaving a set of vases out in the sun to bake and harden.  A storm would come… rain… winds…  She said it was the winds that were worst.  They would throw branches, twigs, leaves all over.  Some would knock over the adult vases, sometimes breaking them, but never the young vases.  Those would stand amid the winds and rains and take what ever was thrown at them. 

“Later… when the potter returned and found the damage he would repair the broken vases the best he could.  The young vases… he would pick out the pieces of debris and gently touch and smooth the damaged areas until they were as good as new; but no matter how careful the potter was or how diligent, he never got all the debris… would never see all the damage down.  The rain would create bubbles and weak spots in the clay and the winds would bury debris so deeply the potter never saw it.

“The young vases would be left to mature, harden, without anyone ever realizing just how much damage they sustained or what flaws the storm created that the eye would not catch.  You see… the damage was internal… it was now a part of who and what they were.”

“So they grow up apparently normal.  Then what triggers the gift?” Orianna asked.

“Another storm.  It doesn’t even have to be a bad one.”

“So if they have the potential then the Gift is triggered by the next traumatic event.”

“It’s not that simple.  Children who have weathered one storm are almost never Dreamers – even if they suffer another trauma.”

“But… I thought…”

“It’s the children who have weather storm after storm during the maturing process that become Dreamers.  You see… each storm creates more weaknesses, leaves behind more debris, which is all internalized.  As they mature they suffer the usual wear and tear, stressors and such, that undamaged vessels suffer.  The difference is the internal weaknesses and debris.  Those create conditions that would not normally happen.  Eventually… over time… the damage cumulates and something happens to the vessel.  Sometimes it cracks and breaks… and is repaired.  But other times the breaks and cracks are internal… no one ever sees them.  They… the children… not young enough to be moldable anymore but not yet hardened… they know the damage is there and try to hide from it… run from it.  It’s like you seeing an avalanche or fissure opening because of an earthquake – you run from the danger and find safety.  If you were caught in the middle of an earthquake with fissures opening all around you… what would you do?”

“Probably die.  There’s nowhere to go.  But the dangers you’re talking about are not all physical are they?”

“No.  They’re not.”  Stephan paused and reached into a pocket.  Pulling out a flask, he took a long drink and watched the others share looks.  He could tell that much of what he said was news to them.  Things they didn’t know before, and he wondered how… why… they would be sent on a mission without full intel.  He could guess what the others were thinking, all but Aerilyn.  All during his long speech her face never changed.  She had a sereneness about her and he doubted there were many things that would shake that serenity.  At least they were listening.

“With those children the dangers would be a combination of physical and mental.”  He continued.  “Adults would, for the most part, protect them from physical dangers; but they’d never see the mental dangers.  Those, the children would have to protect themselves from – alone.  If the child survived into adulthood they would be different from other adults.  Sometimes those differences are subtle and they live and die without anyone every knowing that they’re different; but other times the differences are more noticeable.  In the past, doctors and scientists would study those adults and develop diagnoses for the symptoms or differences.  There were multiple personality disorders, dissociative identity disorders, schizophrenia and others as time went on.”

“I still don’t understand…”

“Be patient. – I'm getting to that.”

Aerilyn could tell from Stephan’s tone that he was getting tired. His voice, though neutral and steady, nevertheless held a note of despair and hopelessness.  She could also tell that he had more expience with Dreamers than he led them to believe.  She wondered if he knew the Dreamer they came to retrieve.  Would he let them take the child?  As hard as she tried to read the man he remained closed to her.  That was unusual enough to make her wary.

“When children have no where else to go… they turn to their dreams.  Some will shut down entirely when they go into their dreams.  Others will leave a part of themselves behind to keep their body safe, to fool the others into thinking everything is okay.  They do this because they’ve lost the ability to trust the adults around them.  When a child is hurt time and again, and the adults that are supposed to protect them don’t, that child learns not to trust… and often not to care.  They shut down emotionally.  It’s the only way they can protect themselves from further hurt.”

“Wait a minute.  That doesn’t make sense.  Why would physical danger – or trauma – cause a child to shut down emotionally?”

“Because more often than not the trauma is not always physical.  Man’s a vicious beast.  Even all the advances in technology, medicine, society and space flight have not changed the core nature of mankind.  People still abuse other people… especially children.”

“Abuse is still physical.”

“Not all abuse.  Much, too much, is emotional, mental… psychological.”

“Are you telling me that…” Orianna stopped speaking as a memory reared its ugly head.  You’re nothing but a weakling – one that should have been drowned at birth.  I need a son.  Someone to defend our land.  Protect your mother.  What did you do?  Kill her.  She died giving birth to a useless girl child.  Get out of my sight before I kill you. 

Day after day, year after year, she grew up hearing how useless she was, how she should be dead.  It was because of those words that she began sneaking into the armory to watch the training classes, and later found a friend to teach her the lessons he was learning and practice with her.  It was because of her father that she joined the Space Corps and later the Special Forces.  She knew she wasn’t weak and she intended to prove it. She pushed herself hard and became the most ruthless, dangerous weapons specialist the Base had; but her father would never know just how wrong he was because he died while she was still in training at the Base.  “Never mind… go on.”

Stephan nodded.  He’d seen the play of emotions as she remembered and knew there was something in her past that helped her understand, and as always, he wished it were different.  “It’s the mental, emotional abuse that causes damage you can’t see.  It’s that which drives the child to dream.  In their dreams they’re safe.  Some go into their dreams and never emerge.  Others only dream when the real world becomes too much, too painful, to find peace and happiness.  Most children who dream – only dream.  But some, a handful of those children, have untapped psychic potential.  Abuse and trauma triggers that potential and when those children dream… they use those abilities without realizing what they’re doing.  At least at first.  If they go unnoticed eventually they will realize there is something different… something that sets them apart from the others around them.  As they become more receptive they discover their gifts and use them to escape… or hurt the ones that have hurt them.”

“You knew the children that disappeared were Dreamers didn’t you?”  Aerilyn asked.

“Yes.  I tried to help them but…”

“What made you think you could help them?” Dain-el asked softly from the shadows. “It takes a special team to train Dreamers.  Why didn’t you ask for help?”

“Because when my sister was taken I was angry and confused.  I was almost fifteen before my parents would tell me why she was sent away.  Losing her almost destroyed our family and I vowed that it wouldn’t happen again.  Not if I could help it.  I tried researching Dreamers but what few things I found were so vague…  It wasn’t until my sister’s first visit home, when she explained what Dreamers were and why they were Dreamers that I understood enough to know where to look for information.  I scoured the archives and old books about psychology and psychic abilities and learned everything I could.  Then I found old masters of the discipline and studied with them.

“I'm not the only one.  I found others who wanted to study and help the Dreamers and we formed a group.  There’s just not enough of us and too many who want to use… or misuse Dreamers. … like you.”

“Whoa… hold it right there.  You don’t know us and have no right judging us like that.” Orianna exploded.

“You’re the ones who said you’re here to retrieve a Dreamer.  What else am I supposed to think?”  Stephan snapped back.  “I’ll kill you before I let you take her from her family.”  He drew a laser wand from somewhere and had his back against the door before anyone could move.

Orianna cursed under her breath, raised her hands and stood, leaving her Stun wand on the bed.  Dain-el growled and jumped from the chair intent on attack only to be stopped by the appearance of a second laser wand inches away from his chest.  He backed up slowly, still growling, mind working furiously.  Aerilyn merely followed the action without moving.  Still serene she looked at Stephan and spoke, her voice chiming gently through the air.

“We’re not hunters.  We’re not who you think we are.  Please… everyone sit and put the weapons away.”  The compulsion singing through her voice caused the wands in Stephan’s hands to waver, but he continued to stand, weapons drawn.  Dain-el moved back to lean against the wall, still growling softly.  Orianna picked up her weapon and set it on the floor at the foot of the bed, the sat back on the bed, leaning against the wall, hands folded in her lap.  They had worked together long enough for Aerilyn’s companions to trust her.

“Please Stephan… we are not your enemies.”  Aerilyn’s voice sang gently.  “We were sent to help – and if we don’t move quickly the others – the hunters – will have the child and be gone before we can stop them.  We need to work together.  Please…”

I can kill them now and still get to the other groups before they reach Triana… but what if she’s telling the truth.  What if they are here to help?  The entreaty combined with the compulsion in her voice was too strong for him to resist.  Stephan lowered his weapons but remained standing before the door.  “How do I know I can trust you?”

“Our mission is to retrieve the Dreamer – BUT – to take her to a place where she will be safe.  Taught to control and use her Gift wisely.  Like your sister was trained.  The child will be allowed to visit her family once she can control her Gift.  Like your sister was allowed to visit.  Please…  with hunters on her trail we can’t afford to fight or wait much longer.  You already know why the hunters want her.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t.  But she will know.  Do you trust her?”

Stephan thought about what she said.  Triana will know.  He thought.  Just as she knew the last time hunters came and she warned me.  But dare I take the chance.  Damn!

“You and you,” he said, pointing to Aerilyn and Orianna, “you will go with me. You.”  He pointed to Dain-el. “Will stay here.  If you leave I’ll know and these two will die.”

Dain-el growled menacingly but nodded. “If anything happens to them you will die a slow painful death.”

Stephan opened the door and Jorge entered, a laser wand held in one hand. “Jorge will stay with you just to make sure.”

After Jorge moved to lean against the wall by the door, Stephan motioned the women through the door.  Snatching up cloaks they hurried through the door.  Aerilyn passed Stephan his cloak as she exited. 

~*~*~*~


The journey through the darkness was swift, but not swift enough to keep Orianna from memorizing the path they took.  Thankfully the storm had blown over and while the wind was still freezing and the leaves still dripped icy water, the rain had stopped.  About an hour later they came to a house nestled in the woods.  Stephan knocked on the door and an old woman opened it.  Candlelight spilled out blinding them until their eyes adjusted.  Nodding to Stephan the woman stepped back motioning them to enter. 

“You first,” Stephan told the women 

As she passed Stephan, Orianna noticed he still held the weapon. Still doesn’t trust us.  Can’t say I blame him. I'm glad he didn’t search us for weapons though.  At least I still have my dart pistols.  Entering the room she looked around, scouting exits, advantages and disadvantages.  The room was small with a dining table and benches near the hearth, a single bed in the back corner, and a rocker, footstools and overstuffed armchair under the far window.  There were only two windows. One on the front wall, a few feet from the door, and the other on the wall opposite the hearth.  Both were small, containing a single pane of glass each.  A door to the left of the hearth appeared to lead to another room.  She chose a seat on the bench in front of the hearth.  With the fire to her back she could see the rest of the room easily. Also, it warmed the chill from her bones.

Aerilyn entered and went straight to the rocking chair.  Making herself comfortable, she waited for Stephan’s next move.  She scanned the room quickly, but her eyes went to the inner door and stayed there.  She could sense the girl child and wondered what had happened to her.

After Stephan came in and took a seat on a stool off to the side, the old woman sat in the armchair and gathered her knitting back into her lap.  Silence reigned for minutes as everyone waited for someone else to speak.  Finally, the old woman sighed and spoke.

“It’s Triana isn’t it?  Someone’s trying to steal her away from me again.”

“Grandmama these women need to hear about what happened to Triana.”  He kept his voice low and reassuring, but she still flinched and stared hard at Aerilyn and Orianna.

“Please Ma’am… we only want to help.”  Aerilyn’s voice chimed and the old woman stared at her startled.

“You’re an Aeriaste!” 

“Yes… and if you know of the Aeriastia then you know that I mean you no harm.  You or the child.”                              

The old woman smiled sadly and nodded.  “My mother’s nanna was an Aeriastia.”  Her eyes filled with tears and her voice cracked.  “She was killed when our family was attacked by Grograls.  She saved the young ones, hiding them away, but as she tried to lure the Grograls away one caught her.  She refused to fight.  And my father and uncle were too far away to reach her in time.”  Wiping her eyes she continued, “I'm glad to see that you have a protector with you.  This is a dangerous world.”

Orianna watched Stephan.  He may have gotten around, but it was obvious from his reaction that he had no knowledge of the Aeriaste.  Aeriastia’s were the strongest empaths in the Coalition and not many, almost none, could shield well enough to fight.  Every blow an enemy took was a blow to the Aeriastia.  Most of the time they could avoid danger and fights by using other psychic skills. 

Those who chose to leave their home world and travel the stars were only allowed to leave if they could bond with an Oriasta.  Oriasta were psychic nulls – completely unreadable, untouchable by any psychic being.  Their nulling ability worked like an aura, a shield, that surrounded them.  When they fought hand to hand, or in close combat, an Aeriastia could not feel what the combatants felt. 

Orianna and Aerilyn had bonded only a few months after Orianna had finished her training with Special Forces.  Aerilyn had been searching for a bond-mate but it wasn’t until she met Orianna at a local festival that she found one.  The two had been inseparable since. Bonds, a meshing of auras, were not common, and no one could explain why it happened or didn’t happen.

“Triana is my great-granddaughter.  She was only three when she lost most of her family to a Grogral attack.  A year later she was kidnapped and when she got sick, they abandoned her in the wilds.  She spent almost a year in the wilds trying to stay alive and find her way home. Stephan never stopped searching and eventually he found her… starved… almost dead… her small body wracked with disease.  It was several months before she was well enough to get around on her own.

“Then… a few months ago she was playing in the old mines when some of the tunnels collapsed.  We had no idea she was in there and it wasn’t until we couldn’t find her anywhere else that someone thought of the mines.  The old mines go miles into the mountain.  Eventually they intersect tunnels the Grograls had dug.  All the children knew the mines weren’t safe, but Triana has always been hardheaded.

“Anyway… we found traces that she had been in the tunnels, but couldn’t find her.  Even when we dug through the ones that collapsed.  Apparently, when the tunnel she was in collapsed, she continued on… searching for a way out.  Instead she found the Grogral tunnels.  They found her and took her prisoner.

“It was Stephan, again, who found her.  He wouldn’t give up no matter what anyone said.  He found the tunnel she was in and tracked her to the Grogral tunnels.  When he did find her, he also found another woman who had gone missing a couple of years earlier.  She was the one who told us what happened to Triana.

“They had both been raped.  Repeatedly.  Triana fought back so they beat her into submission.”  Tears poured from the old woman’s eyes and Aerilyn wanted to go to her… hold her.  But she knew the woman did not want her sympathy, so she sat, rocked, and shed her own tears silently.  “Every time they raped her they beat her.”  The old woman’s voice broke. “She… she was three months pregnant when Stephan found her.  Only ten years old and pregnant.”  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, as though to shut out something no one else could see. “They used fertility drugs to force her body to mature early.  She was with them for six months before Stephan could find her.”

“Every time I got close to finding her, they would move and I’d have to start over again. And… she had started dreaming.”

“How did you know she was dreaming?” Orianna asked.

“Because I would find camps that were only days old with her spoor, but hundreds of miles apart. There wasn’t anyway they could travel those distances in less than months.”

“Then how did you…” Orianna began.

“He’s telekinetic,” Aerilyn explained.  “I'm beginning to think the natives have strong innate psychic abilities.”

“But if you can teleport, then why didn’t you get her sooner?

“I can teleport to places I know or places that hold things I'm intimately familiar with.  That’s how I found the second camp.  I got Triana’s spoor from the first camp and followed it.  But when they started drugging her… it changed her spoor and I had to go back to tracking.  Sometimes I could use something else as a focus, but the group that held her kept changing so after the second dead-end I decided to only use Triana. It took me two months to find her.”

“Dear god… why would she slow time?”

“She didn’t know what she was doing.  She was trying to survive.”

Grandmama set her knitting aside, wiped her face, and then folded her hands tightly in her lap. “We’ve had to keep her lightly sedated since Stephan brought her back a few days ago.  But… she… she can’t live like that.  Can you… will you…  help her?”

Aerilyn and Orianna exchanged a quick look.  “That’s why we’re here.  There is a way to tell when Dreamer uses their Gift and where.  Trina’s activities triggered the warning system; so, we were sent to retrieve her and take her to a safe place.  A place where she will get the help she needs.  She’ll also get training so she can control her Gift and use it wisely.”

Grandmama nodded and looked at Stephan. “You don’t trust them?”
“No. I'm still not convinced.  I was hoping Triana would be able to help us decide.”

“Well it’s time for her next dose.  If we wait… she’ll wake up and you can talk to her.  But you know it’s risky.”

“It’s a chance we’ll have to take.”  Stephan sighed and rose, stretching cramped muscles. “I’ll go sit with her until she’s awake enough to talk.”

“May I go with you?” Aerilyn asked quietly.

Stephan looked at Grandmama and she nodded.  Gesturing to the inner door he let Aerilyn precede him.

~*~*~*~


Aerilyn looked at the child lying in the bed and wept silently.  Carefully she shielded her thoughts and feelings then sat on the side of the bed and took Triana’s hand in hers.  Stephan sat on the other side of the bed, silent and immovable.  They waited each lost in their own thoughts until Triana’s eyes fluttered open.  Looking at Aerilyn and then Stephan, she smiled and whispered, “Thank you Unca Stephan.”  Her eyes gently closed and her breathing steadied.

Stephan looked at Aerilyn.  “Please… keep her safe and help her.  --- And send me updates.”

“I will.  You have my promise.”

~*~*~*~


The End.





Author's Note: 
Aeriaste is used to refer to the nation or race - the people as a whole.
Aeriastia is used to refer to a person of the nation or race - an individual or a group.



Word Count: 6567
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