Date: May 17, 2000 (Aether: June 28, 3906)
Place: Limestone Cavern - Beneath Haven
Cast: Brighid, BroadShoulders, Sunrose
Scene: In this scene, two young Sylvans, with the help of their mentor, discover that there are different kinds of healing, achieved when friendship triumphs over jealousy and spite.

Limestone Cavern - Beneath Haven:
      The walls dance with torchlight and firelight here, leaving the wan phosphorescence of fungus for the narrower and more confining passages. There is warmth, too, and the scent of living with all of its wonders and stinks. A stream burbles through cracks high in one wall, its crystal clear fluid glittering wildly as it flows over brilliantly colored mineral deposits in a rainbow of a waterfall. It pools below and then flows from there down a passage wide enough only for the water to pass through. Sounds dance here, as well, echoed until the inhabitants of the cavern seem doubled or tripled and the noise mixed with every tone: happiness, anger, insistent argument, laughter.
      The pitted walls have been made fit for habitation, the largest and most sheltered of them padded with furs and the objects of living. Some of the paths to these walls are only visible in tiny foot- and hand-holds Shaped carefully in the growing rock. Sylvans sit on flat surfaces, perch in their niches and gather by the pool, while children play in an area thickly forested with stalagmites away from the stream. Stairs artfully Shaped into a natural fissure lead up six feet from one alcove to the surface world, away from this subterranean Sylvan paradise of color and light in the darkness of Grandmother's womb.

Above, under the intense light of the sun, heat beats down upon the earth, baking those who walk about under its rays. But deep under the ground, in the limestone cavern, the temperature remains constant, and cool, a needed respite for many of the Eyotajolon. Upon a mat in an alcove lies the form of a sleeping beauty, red hair laying in a corona about her pretty little head. Dark lashes rest lightly against each other, as the girl's ample chest rises and falls with her breath. Beside her sits an older man, his concentration upon her sleeping form. He seems to just sit and watch, though some say that he is aiding her sleep by blocking her horrid visions. Indeed this is Brighid, the missing Eyotajolon, and she is finally home.

Sunrose sits on her knees comfortably, her back against the cool limestone walls. Her green eyes are focused on that certain red-headed jewel, emeralds reflecting the stones and glittering brighter than ever with a mixture of both envy and scorn. Her brows are creased, and lips are curved downwards; all features combine to make the young girl look very cross indeed. Her arms are folded against her chest, perhaps jealous of Brighid's ample cleavage. Sunrose's still hasn't fully developed, lost between girlhood and womanhood. A little voice in the back of her mind reprimands this young Sylvan, noting that she should be happy that Brighid has returned. And still, another voice bids her to continue hating -- she has reason, after all, it argues. Confused by the two emotions, equally strong, Sunrose chooses the easier path and continues to glare at Brighid.

Lids crack open as lashes untangle, and lazy eyes roll underneath as the girl stirs from her slumber. She moves her head a bit, waves of crimson hair shifting and glinting even in this dim light. The older man who sits beside her seems to focus upon her form now, and soon she sits up, pale green eyes gazing around her. "Where...?" comes the question she does not finish, and as her eyes gain focus, shock is evident upon her face. "How...?"

Brighid pauses in her speech then as a hand rests itself upon her shoulder, and the man says, "You are home now, child. It has been a rough journey, but Cynara found you, and brought you home."

Brighid squints in confusion then, wondering who Cynara is, but she simply nods at his words. "My head..." she says as she lifts a delicate hand to rub her temple, "...it feels funny."

The man nods, offering a slight smile to reassure the girl, and says, "Your Sight is blocked, for now, until we can get it under control." She nods then, grateful for the peace of mind it bestows, and her sight returns to the cavern around her.

Thoughts as tumultuous as the violent storms during winter, Sunrose twitches, caught off-guard upon hearing Cynara's name. She is forced to bite her lips from crying out in surprise, and the fire of envy and anger within those deceptively bright eyes begins to burn with even more intensity. The words hangs in the chill air despite the warm summer weather. Her frown continues to tug on the corners of her mouth, etching deeper into her thin features by the moment. Her own strands of gold blaze brightly, like a surrogate sun of the underground; though this time, it is with anger instead of feelings of benevolence like the one above.

Sunrose tries to shut off her own healing senses, willing herself not to feel empathy for this other girl. Hard as it may be, hate as well as jealousy clogs those tunnels of life and for now, those senses can be temporarily 'ignored.' With that, Sunrose is pleased -- if only for this moment. And with renewed vigor, she focuses all her hate on Brighid, not caring that all this negative energy is unreasonable.

Brighid rests her head against the cool stone of the cavern as she breathes deeply, wondering just where she has been in the past few weeks. Images of fire and smoke were constant, but the woods seemed more realistic than ever. Memories come back now, as she tries to remember, and the face of the Apisachi Shaman comes along with a name. Turning-Leaf. She spent time in the forest, and they held a block upon her there, as well. But, Cynara... Who is that? The woman who found her? Where was she? The sight of thorns reaching out from a delicate stem leave her with a lasting impression, but she can hardly remember the face. The pain... it returns now. Memories of pain, of swords and of strife. Her eyes glass over at the memories, of the torture of a poor healer, and her golden spirit. Her mind in a confusing jumble of images, and none of them make sense. She feels as though she has just awakened from a very long, confusing dream.

Her eyes look upward now, deep pools of jade framed by long ebony lashes, and the faint light of the cavern twinkles withing their depths. If ever there were a creature that resembled a picture of fallen beauty, Brighid would be it. Waves of liquid fire fall behind her well-formed ears, and her elegant face shines with pale beauty. She catches sight, then, of a girl just a bit younger than she, resting against a far wall, and staring at her. Those eyes, they seem to burn in their gaze, and Brighid's shyness provokes an immediate response. She drops her gaze toward her hands, clasped in her lap, afraid to meet the eyes of the other girl, or anyone, for that matter.

Sunrose immediately gasps, picking up the sheer agony of Brighid's memories with frightening clarity. She blinks back tears that surge and swell within the depths of liquid emerald, each wave threatening to overflood and pour from those large, sensitive eyes. The young Sylvan's own ignorance and lack of experience with using her healing senses has caught Sunrose off guard; she hasn't the power to screen herself from the intensity of Brighid's suffering at her level of training. Terror sweeps Sunrose off, engulfing her in his dark wing, and for what seems like eternity, the healer-in-training finds her eyes in a vast sea, pregnant with pain. Although she can't pick up Brighid's exact thoughts, she certainly has the ability to "feel" those memories and that is in a way, much more terrible.

However, everything must pass, and as Brighid calms down, so does she. Brushing back her thick, bountiful curls spun in gold, She looks at the other woman with renewed fear as well as hate. Why? Why? Of all things, does she have to inflict such pain on her as well? So caught in the dark folds of hatred, young Sunrose does not even notice the entrance of BroadShoulders.

BroadShoulders clumps down the stairs, his heavy boots and the nails in their soles making a distinctive sound. He casts his eyes around, looking for Brighid, and heads towards her upon sight. The life of the cavern continues around all three, undulled.

Jade eyes dry silently as Brighid stares down at her clenched hands, memories of pain fading as she focuses upon the mundane. She notices nothing of what goes on about her, sitting as she is in her alcove upon her sleeping mat. An older man sits next to her, watching her as she stares at the ground, and holding a block upon her affinity. Sunrose leans against a far wall, staring at Brighid with no good intentions, and Brighid's sight seems deliberately diverted from all eyes. She is afraid to look up, her timidity inhibiting her from doing much more than stare downward.

Flames of jealousy, clothed in hatred, lick at Sunrose, shooting up in tongues of gold when they seize some new source of fuel, some other petty reason to hate, and soon, a great pillar of black smoke stains her mind. Still, even with the loud clumping of boots, Sunrose has not noticed BroadShoulder's entrance -- so caught up in her feelings is she. "Why did she have to drag Cynara into this? As if /Fox wasn't enough." The young healer continues to mutter dark thoughts to herself, though no other ones are quite as loud. Eyes narrow into thin slits of jade, sharpening and watching Brighid angrily. She stalks her way into her own niche, the small remaining part of her that is still reasonable, fearing that Sunrose's anger will cause her to do something she'll regret later.

BroadShoulders walks over to the sleeping alcove. When he arrives there, having made plenty of noise on the way over, he smiles, deep-toned voice rumbling. "Good afternoon, ladies, SoaringSoul. How goes the day?"

Deep green eyes peer upwards suddenly from an upturned face, and depths of the forest behold the sight of BroadShoulders from beneath a sea of fiery red. Some of the fear and trepidation relaxes at the sight of the large man, for he is perhaps the only man she is somewhat comfortable with. Brighid says nothing for a moment as she looks upon his face, and fear of his anger colors her response. "I'm... sorry," she says meekly, looking immediately downward. Her shame comes in waves of crimson upon her cheeks, and she gazes once again, head down, toward her clenched hands in her lap.

Sunrose jerks her head around, BroadShoulder's voice penetrating through the cloud of animosity. Forcing a smile that isn't at all convincing, Sunrose turns to greet the older man. "Good day," she says simply, her voice curt and choppy in a feeble attempt to conceal her general displeasure. However, as Brighid's sweet voice -- so sweet to Sunrose that it would likely induce a cavity -- drifts to her keen ears, the murderous rage returns again. A frown with bitterness that would even adulterate the purest virgin, draws a sharp line across her delicate features. Her fists clench in anger once more, the brilliant shades of green in her eyes whirling in madness.

BroadShoulders takes in the scene with a single glance. "SoaringSoul, you're looking tired. Go and get some food, I'll take over." The middle-aged Sylvan stands with a smile and heads for the table as BroadShoulders seamlessly takes over the shields. The aging smith catches Sunrose's shoulders with a smile, drawing her into a gentle hug and then releasing her. "Sunrose, my dear, it's good to see you. Have a seat, tell me how your lessons are going with Cynara." He sits himself, and gestures the Healer to sit and make the third side of a square, facing the Clairvoyant. A gentle hand finds Brighid's shoulder, reassuring her that she is not forgotten, withdrawing after a few moments.

Wide orbs of jade peer upwards once again, fearful perhaps, at the presence of the others. The touch of the smith is somewhat comforting, yet the piercing gaze of the healer seems to rip at Brighid's insides, and she shies away from that stare. Eyes return meekly toward her hands, and she stares blankly at nothing.

Sunrose begins reciting all the herbs she's learned in her mind, wanting to focus on anything but Brighid; BroadShoulders mustn't know of her hatred. For a brief moment, Sunrose wonders why her loathing is something to be ashamed of. Perhaps some place deep in her young soul, this girl knows that her feelings are unsupported and unreasonable. Perhaps she knows that the negative energy caught in a whirlpool inside her mind is wrong and undeserved.

Perhaps, perhaps, so many perhaps.

At her age, Sunrose finds it much easier to not think on the whys, but focus and travel on the easiest path -- do it now, think later. She lets herself be hugged, losing her thin frame into BroadShoulder's bigger one. However, Sunrose is unresponsive, barely raising an arm to return BroadShoulder's embrace. He focused on Brighid first; she came second. He addressed Brighid first! Unhappy, but not wanting to displease BroadShoulders, the young Sylvan takes her place, sitting crosslegged across from the Clairvoyant. Sunrose stares at the floor, knowing that glaring at the other girl would only anger the older Sylvan.

Sunrose shrugs, rolling her shoulders back in a show of nonchalance. "I'm doing fine. Cynara is a good teacher."

BroadShoulders nods. "But it hurt when she decided that Brighid was more important than your lesson, hmm, Sunrose?" There is no judgement in his tone, just a simple statement of fact. "And then when Fox, too, went to her?"

Brighid gapes. Her mouth drops open and confusion sets in. What is this man talking about? She looks up then, at the face of the elder, with quite a confused glance. What does he know of Fox? Fox... Her mind wanders then. Her first friend here, her first friend ever, really. He was nice to her, and she started to trust him, to think that perhaps men were not evil. But it was all ruined, with one kiss. She was not expecting that, and what she saw afterwards scared and enraged her more than anything ever has. And this Cynara? Who is this woman?

"Who... is Cynara?" she asks then, before turning to Sunrose. Brighid's deep green eyes meet those of Sunrose for a moment, bravely glimpsing her features, with a look of confusion. What is everyone talking about?

Sunrose blinks rapidly in surprise, thick dark eyelashes fluttering open to reveal overlarge green eyes, rich with the colors of the forest. Her jaw drops inches, almost gracing the cool floor. Sunrose is lost in a sea of confusion like Brighid, though for different reasons. How did he know of his feelings? How could he guess so accurately? The girl has no words for either Brighid or BroadShoulders's questions, and can only stare at the latter. Eventually, her wits and senses return to her, and she gulps. The words, although not meant to be an accusation, wound Sunrose very deeply.

She wrings her fingers, causing light purple marks which promise to become bruises later, to appear. Denial is the first defensive response, and Sunrose cries out, "No. I don't care. I don't care about her at all!" Her voice comes out as cold as winter's fingers, chilling even Sunrose to the bone. But pride doesn't allow her to take them back, and she stares sullenly at Brighid.

BroadShoulders looks calmly at Sunrose. "I will not call you a liar, Sunrose." Again, not even the slightest hint of accusation. "But I will ask you a question. How many friends, girls our own age, do you have? Who can understand your magic, and the pain you know through them?" Honest, open, sincere and without judgement. The smith is all of these things.

Brighid blinks. More than once. What in the world is going on? She is lost in her thoughts now, her mind racing to explain the situation that no one else will. Sunrose is jealous of the attention Brighid has been getting? What attention? "I don't even know who Cynara is!" she yelps in frustration. And Fox! What about Fox's attention? They're friends, she thinks. Maybe not anymore. he probably hates her now. Eyes remain wide as jade orbs glance back and forth from face to face, imploring each for an explanation.

Sunrose quickly wipes a wisp of blazing hair from her cheeks, using that motion as a cover for brushing away the beads of tears that have started to pour from twin pairs of verdant. It leaves a salty streak on her cheek, the physical remnants of her pain refusing to disappear completely. And although not intended, BroadShoulders' words continue to hurt her with the sting of sunned metal, the pain from old, old scars pulsing again with keener pain. Why is he asking her these questions? Why does he want to hurt her more?

But bidden still by attachment and respect for the other man, Sunrose answers even though her voice trembles, "I don't have any." Pause, and then the young healer adds quickly, "But I don't need any." Pride again masks her good-naturedness, and causes her to sound harsher than intended.

BroadShoulders nods. That was about the reaction he expected. "Think on it, Sunrose." He wasn't trying to hurt her, just make her think. "Cynara is a Healer, Brighid, and she is Sunrose's teacher. I am led to believe that Cynara interrupted Sunrose's learning to bring you back to us." His tone is precisely the same with Brighid as it was with Sunrose. "And Fox thinks you both hung the moon. Take it from me, girls -- at that age, most men think that any reasonably presentable female is a goddess. You both qualify, and more than qualify. He feels responsible for Brighid's leaving, so of course he will be delighted to find her in one piece."

Brighid gawks again. Hung the moon? Brighid can't even communicate with Fox, let alone have feelings for him. She thought he was her friend. She hopes that he still is. Maybe if she learned how to talk with her hands, like he does, then things like this wouldn't happen. "Fox is my friend..." she says in a humble voice, barely above a whisper. She turns to Sunrose then, fearful of hurting her too, and says in a voice that speaks volumes of her shame, "I'm sorry." She returns her gaze back to her hands then, her thoughts trickling to a halt as her mind goes almost numb. This is too much information to process, and her head hurts enough already.

As Brighid's speaks, and her sweet-toned voice assails Sunrose's already sensitive ears, the string of temper within Sunrose breaks. Taking no notice of the tears streaming wildly down her ivory cheeks, the young girl thrusts her words at the other girl with all the anger, frustration, jealousy, and hurt that has accumulated ever since Brighid's arrival.

"Cynara is the healer that apparently saved you! She put you before me! Fox put you before me! ... And now!" Sunrose points an accusing finger at BroadShoulders, "He is putting you before me!"

Pausing only for a breath and a chance to sneer at the other girl, Sunrose continues with her tantrum, "You have only been here for what?! A few moons? And yet you've managed to steal from me so many people that I love! All I hear is about Brighid, Brighid, Brighid."

She contorts her features, looking more monsterly than Sylvan. And in a nasal voice that is hurtful to the ear, Sunrose imitates the various conversations that she has overheard, "What happened to Brighid? Poor girl. Brighid, Brighid, Brighid!" Now tears overwhelm her, making a small puddle on the floor. She makes no move to wipe them away, or clear her watery vision.

Turning to BroadShoulders and speaking with much more audacity that she would have ever dared had her mind not been clouded with so much pent-up anger, Sunrose cries out -- the loudness of her voice fueled by hurt, "I don't love Fox like that -- only as a friend! ...And were you there to help me figure that out? Was Cynara there? I figured that out with the help of Mairi. She is almost a stranger to me, Broad."

BroadShoulders says "And now will they say 'What happened to Sunrose? Such a dear, sweet child. When did she become so jealous, so angry?' Is that your desire, Sunrose?" He sighs, and speaks again, his tone now reaching out to you, to the Healer beyond the angry words. "Where was I? In my shop. All the tribe knows that they can come to me there, whenever they need to. Where was Cynara? Saving another girl from madness and probable death. And Brighid? Brighid is just as much a victim of her magic as you are."

Brighid shies away from both elder and healer now, and withdraws into her own mind. People have missed her? Who? The idea of a family, those who care about you and worry about you, seems almost alien to her. The only one that ever cared for her was the wise old woman who raised her, the one who was like her mother. She regrets being here now, to have brought such anger and hatred to another, simply by her presence. She despises herself then, unable to comprehend why anyone would so much as care about whether she is there or not. Perhaps it is her own fear which distances her from other people.

Her decision in coming to this place is now fully regretted, for to cause someone so much pain and anguish is beyond her, and she wants nothing more to return to the forest, to suffer through her madness, where at least she will be the only one who suffers. Brighid blinks a single drop of salty water from the deep green wells of her eyes, and moves suddenly.

Dropping instantly, Brighid relies upon her trained reflexes, rolling head first, left shoulder to the floor, as she bounds between the two. As soon as her head comes up, she bounds left, springing deftly to her feet and all but leaping over a small table. As her delicate feet land lightly upon the top, it seems effortless as she leaps once more, high into the air, and somersaults in a perfect arc above the head of another tribesmember, who awes at her flying frame.

When she lands, her feet tap nimbly on the ground before Brighid launches herself into that familiar run with which she has been fleeing all her life. Breath comes in deep inhalations, as her skills allow her to steady her breathing, and she leaps forward toward the exit. It all happens in a few short seconds, and only those with the highest senses and reflexes might be able to act in time. In a place as domestic as the city, such ability is rare, and her forest dwelling heritage is bared full force.

Sunrose sobers, BroadShoulder's words conjuring up various images, all none too pleasing. Dread keeps her hard-strung and silent, initially wanting to rebel against his words. No one wants to know the truth if it's bad.

And in those few precious moments, Sunrose's mind begins to clear. Slowly yet surely, the more she thinks on it, the frame by which shapes her perceptions begins to straighten; for the first time in weeks, her mind is clear and unmuddled, available for clarity of thought. The black storm of hate clears, revealing an azure sky, bright and cloudless. Eventually, the hard lines begin to ebb away, and new awareness begins to smooth out the creases on her brow. She turns to BroadShoulders hesitantly, crimson staining her cheeks. And then, with a gasps, buries herself in his shoulders -- sobs wracking her thin body.

The comfort which she draws from him quickly disappears as Brighid bounds away, making towards the door. Sunrose, without really thinking, jerks upwards and quickly straightens to follow Brighid. Deftness in her motions, her long limbs pad smoothly after the other girl. Who'd thought that lanky limbs would ever come in use? But it does, and as long legs assure speed as well as agility, she finds herself just a few steps behind the girl.

"Stop!" Sunrose shouts out, her girlish voice ringing loud throughout the cavern. Surprising even to herself, the healer reaches out to grab Brighid. "No! It's my own stupid fault."

BroadShoulders watches and waits. Now the Healer must learn how to Heal the mind as well as the body. The smith, however, knows what the girls do not; the guards at the top of the stairs will not let Brighid pass without an Aether-Elemental by her side.

A muffled scuffling sound can be heard above the entrance to the cavern, and the yelp of a young girl's voice is the last sound before the silence. Slowly, two guards enter the cavern from above, strongly supporting the sunken frame of the young girl between them. She hang there, limp in their possession, tears streaming down her cheeks as her flight instinct is denied gratification. She has run from her problems since day one, and it seems now that the Gods have decided she face them instead.

Sunrose rushes to the girl's side, and sounding braver than she is, the young healer says, "Let her go. I need to talk to her..." She pauses abruptly, locking her emerald eyes onto Brighid's own.

"That is... if you will talk to me," the healer whispers, a flicker of hope wisping and dancing about in her optics. With delicate hands ideal for healing, Sunrose slowly tucks strands of gold behind her ear; this is clearly a sign of nervousness. She dare not hope for forgiveness after wounding one with already so many scars. Peeking up at Brighid from behind thick dark lashes, she says meekly, "Please?"

BroadShoulders remains seated, holding Brighid's block with the ease of long practice. He remains an island of calm in the busy cavern, a shoulder to cry on, a comforting ear. The other Sylvans of the tribe are doing their best to leave the girls to sort their own problems out, with a minimum of stares and whispers -- after all, the adults were young once, and the children are mystified.

The guards look to Sunrose with a somewhat hesitant stare, but after one look to the elder, they nod and release the girl in their grasp, turning back around to return to the entrance. Brighid slumps down as they let go of her, sinking immediately to her knees upon the floor, tears still streaming down her cheeks. Why does she always cause trouble wherever she goes? Why does everyone around her end up hurt? And why must she See it all?

Anger at her affinity rushes through her, and hatred is directed inward. Brighid sobs silently, staring at the ground before her, wondering why it is that she cannot even enjoy the moments where her mind is free of torture. Teenage angst and depression cloud her mind always, and she huddles there like a broken tree limb, having bowed before the awesome might of the storm.

Sunrose reaches out slowly, yet with sureness in her motions. She gently moves forward to close her arms around the other, embracing the older in an effort to try and comfort her. She closes her eyes, envisioning those few precious moments in which happiness reigned in her life. In her mind's eyes, scenes of the bright sun, her loving parents, candied chestnuts, and various other small pleasures begin to form. Without the slightest hint of hesitation, she begins to channel those memories of euphoria into Brighid, warming the cold hurt inside of her and blanketing against the sadness as well as the hurt which is so much a part of Brighid. This comes naturally to her, the skill an instinct instead of a learned lesson.

"Shush. I'm the one to blame; it is my own insecurity that caused my hurt as well as yours." Sunrose wills herself not to feel or become lost in the other girl, shielding herself as Cynara had taught her. The girl tightens her embrace, stroking the luscious locks of crimson -- and for a moment, to the unfocused eye, Sunrose appears like an angel over a fallen scarlet ibis.

BroadShoulders stands, and makes his way towards the pair, enfolding them in another hug. Wordless for now, his hug speaks volumes -- forgiveness for stupidity and anger, the knowledge that both of you are important to him, and hope in the friendship he feels sure will come. Now, the flashes of scarlet and gold are overlaid by a silver-streaked bronze, the stability everyone needs. The smith smiles, broadly -- he had not hoped for this result so swiftly. He had thought it would take four days, at least.

Darkness, all around her, and not a result of her affinity. Her consciousness has retreated from the world with which she cannot deal, and moist black lashes clench together to shut the world from her sight. Her breathing comes in shallow gasps as she sits upon the floor, and soon her mind is numb, oblivious to the world without, as the girl focuses all of her attention within. This is no easy fate, and had it not been for her solitary life, her mind would not be strong enough to hold such utter emptiness and peace in such a demanding situation. Brighid feels nothing of her body, for all is numb cold emptiness, deep within the black void of Self. This is a place, she was taught, that very few can reach and sustain, but she clings to it now like never before. Escape was not possible without, and so she has fled within.

Her body makes no physical response to the touch of anything, and at first, the embrace of the healer goes unnoticed. Yet when the channeling begins, a spark of golden light ignites before Brighid's mind, deep within it seeps, and its source comes from without. Surprised at the presence of feeling within the deep void of nothing, her mind retracts, not expecting an outside force.

But the feeling continues, gentle respite offered within, and soon the dark mind of the clairvoyant is coaxed, ever so slowly, out from her hiding place. With the second embrace, the feeling is reinforced, for the block can now be felt, palpable about her flesh, and wrapped about her consciousness. That is the love of the elder, she realizes, permeated by the care of the healer. Soon her eyes open once more, revealing pools of glimmering green as deep as the forest of which her race was derived, and an ocean of silent tears is unleashed. Family, plays the thought, for the second time in her life, and her spirit rejoices in their embrace.

Somewhere on the surface of Haven, the sun must be settling, turning the clouds to banners of gold. And even in the subterranean parts, the air has the hush that comes when the world is poised between night and day. The tears have dried, and the only remnant is the salty taste on her tongue. However, that will soon disappear as well. With peculiar sweetness in her smile, Sunrose looks at Brighid, then BroadShoulders, finally returning her gaze to Brighid.

With her affinity, Sunrose senses as the stony darkness within Brighid settles back inside. For a moment, a picture of a cherry comes to her mind. Bright, vivid, and beautiful on the outside, yet who would have guess there be a stone pit? So much hurt and pain. And slowly, that image extends to identify with Fox, Cynara, and even Broad. Jade swirls in her eyes, mixing and cleansing imperfect shades of envy and hatred that came to corrupt the pair of twin jewels during Sunrose's time of fault.

As the scene changes from one of hatred to one of love, the young healer could almost understand the ghostly language of faith as an argument with pain. She needs Cynara, Fox, BroadShoulders, and even Brighid now and forever more. Without their love, her inner light would be lost. She embraces, with renewed vigor and desperation, both BroadShoulders and Brighid. Sunrose thinks then of those cherries as candles and her hands dips into the burning colors of the sensate world.

BroadShoulders waits patiently for the girls to draw back before he will release them; they both need to be close to someone, and he is currently the anchor in both young lives. He is hopeful that they will learn to lean on one another, in time, but for now they both need him to play father -- and he will, both happy at the prospect and honored by their trust.

The rest of Eyotajolon sense the need, and those who both can and will come closer, placing supporting and caring hands on the shoulders of all three, reinforcing the bonds that tie the tribe together. For love it is that holds a tribe; family and necessity are not such important ties as the love of one Sylvan for her whole tribe, and the love of the tribe for that Sylvan.

And now, the tribe shows its love for the Elder, the young Healer, and the newest member through the contact of those individuals who can be there. Graisha and Shaper mingle with Elemental and non-mage alike, and all are as one for a single, all-too-brief moment. Then, the moment over, the tribe breaks back into individuals who fade away into the cavern, giving the three some measure of peace and quiet.

FIN  

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