Adia's New Light



Her nose twitched. Holding her breath, chest beating like a drum, the tiny rabbit clutched her ears and stood stock still.

The racket in just the other room rung out all the same. Rattling, the occasional smash, she could see shadows move under the door as the asailants tore apart her home. They seemed to fight the very contents of her modest corner of the world, just the same way they fought against her kind.

It was routine, somehow. Move to a new area. Register with the peer network there. Live in peace for a time. Endure hate and attack. Move on again. She almost welcomed this violent evening. It meant that she could try again in a new place, perhaps not be noticed there.

Perhaps, if she made it through the night alive.

The door to her bedroom flung open, a tall, slim figure framed by the door and light beyond. Adia held her breath, still, frozen, buried in a pile of laundry.

She silently praised herself on her cleaning habits.

"I can smell herr.." the figure said, slurred speach, an angry growl. "Makes mreh sick.."

"Course you can," called a jaunty voice from the main room. "This is her house, you darkhead."

The figure at the door stalked forward, fluid, graceful. Menacing. In the dim light of her room, Adia could tell it was an male ocelot, all spots and lines, a dark dark look on his features.

The other creature bounded in behind him, short and leaner still, tail madly waving, his voice disjointedly friendly, clashing with the mood. "S'all right! She's over at the pond, told ya she wasn't here! I saw her, I was watchin'!" The canine smiled gayly, taking in the room with a sniff. "Got the best ears in Geraldene, I do! If she were 'ere, I'd know it!"

Adia breathed, calm, her eyes frozen, muscles loosely held. She was a statue, posed and locked in place. Her heart pounded like a caged behemoth.

"Fine!" barked out the feline, his words trailing into angered purring. "We go. Peerrrs will be here syoon enough anywayrr. Not in the myood ferrr a fight!" He flung his paw out, and the window right above Adia's hiding place cracked, instantly a spiderweb of jagged edges, barely hanging to the woodwork. "An enerticor!" she thought, petrified. She imagined what a beast with that ace could do to her, and felt her stomach squeeze.

The two left, kicking and smashing a little as they went. Adia remained in place, muscles beginning to burn, until at least a whole let had passed. She was about to move, to stretch her burning legs, when she heard more movement. She gasped, and instantly regretted the sound.

A immense wave of black lunged at her, a growl echoing, she desperately fled, but a talon reached out and snagged her. She turned and faced her attacker, screaming, lashing out with patheticly soft claws, sobbing, begging.

Leaning on the cruel hand, she felt drained. It was all too much. She drooped, and cowered, hanging from the sharp claws. After a good few met, she gained the courage to realise that nothing had happened. The talon had stopped. She carefully, slowly looked up.

A shadowed, warm face hovered above her, so high. The creature was easily eight feet tall. Eyes glowed, emerald green, narrowed slits. Massive, shaggy-tipped ears trained on her.

"Are you done, little one."

Adia flinched at the sound. A deep voice, like a rumble after a thunderclap. The tone was kind, concerned. "I fear I've arrived too late. I'm so sorry."

The great layphon reached for the lamp switch and, finding it useless, prowled back into the light of the living room, perching on the edge of what was once a couch.

"Come. Please."

Cautiously, Adia rose, and padded into the light, eyes blinking. "You're the peer, right?" she whispered.

She was so small, not quite four feet. Slightly stocky, not a midgit, but perfectly proportioned, just truly a scaled down version of a girl lape, patched midnight blue fur against shock white splotches, a washed out t-shirt and torn jeans. How could anyone attack such a dear little creature?

He cleared his throat. "Yes. I take full responsibilty for this mess. It's not often I entirely miss my targets." He smiled, and offered his talon, claws retracted. "Cindre."

Jerking her paw forward, the young fae reached out her paw, scratching her blunt claws against the open offered wrist, shivering as the layphon returned the gesture with his rough knuckles.

"Adia."

"Are you alright? This place is.. I'm surprised they didn't find you. Are you a hydacor? Or did y-" the dark creature stopped, halted by the sound of the little rabbits sobbing. So powerfully lost, Adia shook, and fell to her knees, all tears and gasps.

"Oh no no.. don't cry, oh my poor little lape, come here."

Gliding forward, as if perfectly weightless, Cindre wrapped his great wings and arms around the girl, holding her close, helping her ride out the immense sadness. He was a wise creature, a teacher of the acetica. He knew a power within one before they did. It was his greatest strength. He sensed something profound in the small lapine.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. And I didn't mean to touch a sore point."

Adia threw a glare up at the great dark beast. "What do you mean, 'sore point'! You don't know me!"

He simply smiled, warm and steady. "I do know you, Adia. I am a sympathicor. It is what I am, to know you."

The room fell into an uneasy silence. Cindre loped backward onto the husk of a couch, and perched on it loosely.

"So you know I don't.. you know I'm a sansard."

"You seem more than that."

Adia gasped, but Cindre did not let her interrupt.

"Little fae. I have a confession to make, if I may."

"O-okay. Sure."

"A peer I may be. But, I am not on duty. This conversation is private." The layphon peered out the unhinged door. "I will send for someone to clean up here. But for now, for now I have an offer. A proposal."

Adia sat awkwardly on a stool, regarding Cindre with utmost suspicion. He was a carnivore, huge and lithe, gleaming sharp teeth, powerful talons, sharp claws on his massive hindpaws. Erect ears showing a faint lapine history, a gaze that seemed to read her like a perella. And those wings, massive and thick and heavy looking, shouldered like they weighed of air. Dark, so dark, she could barely make his details out, despite the bare blub just over his head. She narrowed her eyes. "What kind of offer."

"One that I have never made to a Symbian before. One that must, must remain between us, at all costs."

"Who.. are you? Really? You're like no other peer I've ever met."

"You've.. never heard of me? I thought everyone had." Cindre trailed off, his eyes gently shading to a sombre purple-blue. Adia noted the change with surprise. A light elemental. He wasn't dark at all, he was literally eating all the light in the room, right now, as they talked. And he had the emotic eyes, dancing and shifting in color with his mood and emotions. Was there no ace this giant did not have?

"I don't read the news much. I try to keep to myself," she admitted. "You understand."

Slapping his forehead gently, he laughed. "Of course! Right." Intoning, he tilted his head. "I'm the one who has been to the other world. The Blue. Terra."

Adia lept back from her chair, toppling it, pulling her ears. "You're the alien!"

Laughing again, Cindre held up his great talons, pressing them to his broad chest. "Now now, don't be silly. Surely, my past isn't entirely based on this planet. But, I am a Symbian of the entomnis, same as you. Please." He gestured kindly to the stool. "Sit. Relax. No ill will come to you, not with me here."

Eyes steadily on the dark creature, Adia upturned the stool and perched on it.

"Much better. So, you have heard of Terra."

"I have!" Adia blurts, terrified. "I didn't know it was you who came from there, sir!"

Sighing, Cindre slumped a little. "Don't.. don't call me sir. I don't deserve that. Please. Let's just talk. You and I, equals."

Silence fell on the room once again, and Adia felt like it had collapsed on her. Equals! No one had ever showed her such curtesy. The sansard where ignored, avoided. Hated. Not equals. Even the peers seemed to mostly begrudge her, or treat her as if she were made of glass. Or had dark for brains.

The layphon gently took in the room around him. "I see how you live. I've studied of you, at the lok. I came here with every intention of helping you. With perhaps," he pauses, looking for the right words, "assisting with your plight. I see, now that I am here, that I cannot do that. I'm sorry. Truly."

She shrugged it off. "It's okay. Lots of people have tried to help me. None of them could."

He was caught off guard by that. But he pressed on. "I think I can still be of assistance. I never thought I'd offer this, to anyone. But.. it seems right."

"Offer.. what?"

Cindre fells silent, staring gently at the tiny little figure in front of him. So strong, so passionate. He rubbed his arms, still feeling her steely grip and scraping claws.

"I would like to offer you a way out."

Eyes wide, Adia leaped forward, running to the layphon, paws gripping his knees. "You mean!"

"Yes. I would take you to Terra. It wouldn't be perfect, but I think you would get by. I have friends there, you would not be alone."

With tears streaming down her face, Adia beamed a painful smile up at her now savior. "I could have icecream. And see steam trains, and Terran movies!"

"Well light within," Cindre exclaimed, "it would seem you know of Terra very well!"

"I do! I've always wanted to go! It's so strange, they ride in such strange craft, and count to.. tem?"

Heartily laughing, he shook his head. "That would be 'ten', dear lape. But don't get your hopes up too high. This would be a trial. The moment I see trouble in this arrangement, is the moment I would be forced to bring you back home. Do you understand?"

Adia nodded, murring with happiness. No more running, no more hateful attacks! "Can we go right now, please!"

He rumbled. "Yes, it would be best. I don't think the timing is going to get any better. I must keep this a secret, or my position as Embassador will be threatened." He glowered down at the rabbit. "I cannot have that. There is much work to be done."

"I'll die before I let that happen, really." Adia almost bounced, the glee taking her heart and enflaming her.

"Very well. But one last thing, before we go. I came here to do my best to bestow acetica upon you. It would seem I cannot. Not without a.."

Falling silent, Cindre simply smiled kindly, not wanting to offend. To be a sansard was a curse, a tragedy. But even worse, to be without a shard.. unspeakable.

"There is something, that I can give. It is small, but I offer it all the same. I can grant you the gift of emotional expression all light elementals possess. The emotic."

Adia stared, jaw slack. "You.. you could do that? Really? Oh, that would be wonderful! People would think.. I'd look like.. But.. but why! Why would you do that?"

The great beast murred, resonating, looking over this tiny frame, eyes so wide and searching, fists clentched. She seemed to him to be impervious, so radiant and invincible to circumstance. Her home, belongings, her santuary stood around her, broken and twisted. And yet she remained focused and unbridled. Untouched. He chuckled kindly at the little blue and white rabbit.

"I would do this because you want it. And I feel you are worthy of it. Do you accept, Adia?"

She nodded emphaticly. "Yes! Please!"

"Very well. Raise your face to me, and sit steady, sit still."

Adia, twitching with excitement, held up her chin, aiming her face fully at the gaze of this tall and now regal soul. Staring into his eyes, she saw color, wonderful color, pure white, a light and subtle grass green, mixed with a shock-light blue. She pondered what those colors meant. "I guess I will quickly learn," she thought to herself, feeling perfectly nervous.

Cindre raised his great talons, leaning forward, splaying them around the tiny head and ears of the little lapine. Narrowing his eyes, murring quietly, much to Adia's amusement, he concentrated. "This will feel a little strange, but it will not hurt. Now, relax."

She took in a long, deep breath, letting it out slowly, before the sensation came. It was like seasickness, rolling around in her insides, threatening to destroy her balance. She felt the great clawed, scaled talons brushing her whiskers. Squeezing her forest-green eyes tightly closed, she imagined Earth. A beautiful bright blue sky, delicately coloured like an egg, or a flower petal. Great sapien cities, millions of the bipedal, furless, shardless masses, their strange art, powerful food, awe inspiring buildings. A grunt snapped her from the daydream, and she flickered her eyes open.

"It is done." The layphon seemed tense, tired, but he smiled, nodding apprecitivly. "Wonderous."

Sensing something in that smile, Adia cocked her head. "What. Why are you staring like that. Did it work? I don't feel any different!"

He whispered, "Hush, lape." And with that, she settled, biting her lip and looking away.

Cindre reached out a wing, extending it gently, pointing it at a small mirror. Pulled and held aloft by the dark ones will, he brought it to Adia's grasp.

What Adia saw when she held it to her face, made her almost scream, for her own eyes danced with light, bright and strong and vibrant, no pattern the same, every pattern so subtle it was barely visable, traces of yellow were being chased out by a dark, sickly green. As she watched, taken by shock, her own features so familair against the strangeness of those two globes of stunning light, they quickly shimmered into a steady and almost solid azure blue; two Terran blue skies proudly set in her own expression.

Watching with amusement, eyes a dark yellow, Cindre shook his head. The power and cohesion of her eyes astounded him. This was truly a soul of immense power, her new ace sang to her, and she sang back with so much force.

"We must go. There is little time left. A working peer will be here soon enough. Come. We can talk under The Blue."

Standing, and looming over the seated girl, Cindre closed his eyes, and placed a steady talon on Adia's head.

"Take a deep breath."

Adia shivered, eyes swimming into a heavy turquoise. "Why?"

"This will be much more jarring."

With that, he threw his wings open, clentched his teeth tightly, and released a massive pool of light, echoing a feral growl thoughout the nearby wood.

When the room had settled, darkening once again, it lay bare. Furniture upturned, windows broken, food spilled. Only a small singed spot in the hardwood floor by a tossed stool, told any tale of what had transpired.