Step Into The Unknown

Her throat squeezed tight, first with alarm at the sight of the glowing white Lady approaching them. Her mother steadied her with another subtle pressure of her shoulder against hers, but the understanding that the woman was real and not an apparition of the moon Goddess, and the relief, was only a brief beat before her eyes locked with the man that stumbled to a stop beside the Queen, staring as though he’d seen a ghost.

Legacy did her best to remember her manners, muzzle dipping as she added her own greeting, mumbled through a numb tongue. Her eyes were only for the man. He was… older than she’d expected. Her mother had said he wasn’t a young wolf when the drink had loosened inhibition and she, Eramaya, having found Paladin attractive, had let herself flirt and pursue him just a bit too far. But she realized, now, just how few years were possibly remaining for her to learn about her sire, to learn from him.

He smiled, and the hope in her chest began to fight against the terror, enough to let a faint, watery smile flicker on her features. He didn’t hate her. There was no revulsion or horror in his eyes.

Her mother spoke, greeting Aurielle in turn, and beginning the explanation, in typical Nomad fashion, telling it as a story, and the Spirit was clearly not one to glaze over while someone was speaking. Legacy knew the story by heart, now, that of her own creation, but she listened, watching Paladin’s face. It seemed as though some of the tale was new to him, and it matched with what her mother had said—he’d been absolutely blasted, unaccustomed to the drink.

"Go raibh maith agat as do matriarch fáilte, spiorad Valhalla. Thaistil muid i bhfad ó d'fhéile anuraidh ... nó ... rinne mé." Eramaya glanced aside to her daughter, a fond smile on her features, before her shoulders straightened and she went on.

"Tosóidh mé ag an tús, ag d'fhéile. Bhí mé i measc na ndaoine a thug an deoch go dtí an fhéile, agus chonaic mé Paladin. Bhí a fhios agam air, mac Kavdaya a thurais agus a d'fhoghlaim siad leis na hainmneacha nuair a fuair siad é mar phup. Agus ... go maith, fuair mé é tarraingteach."

Her muzzle dipped slightly, apologetic eyes drifting to Paladin as she cleared her throat and spoke on.

"Bhí beagán le hól agam cheana féin ... agus lean mé air, go mícheart. Mar is eol duit, níl sé neamhghnách dár gcultúr taitneamh a bhaint as an gcuideachta daoine eile go dtí go bhfaighidh muid ár gcroí. Ach níor chóir dom a bheith imithe tar éis mac tíre pacáiste. Thug mé cuireadh dó iarracht a dhéanamh ar éagsúlacht alcóil a bhí á dhéanamh agam, agus bhí sé sách láidir. Agus ... go maith. Oíche mhaith a bhí ann. Níor thuig mé go raibh mé ag iompar clainne go dtí go raibh ár gcaibidil i bhfad ó bhruacha an bhóise agus an auster."

Paladin’s features twitched, ink-swathed brow-points furrowing, clearly trying to remember that night, and from the corner of her intense eye-lock with her father, Legacy saw Aurielle’s gradated eyes slide to the man, a brow-point quirking upward—was that a shimmer in that glowing coat? It was hard to tell.

Her father’s features smoothed without remembrance, but his gaze held hers. Warmth there. Love there. More of the tension around her chest eased, hope swelled.

Eramaya ducked her head slightly, admitting, "Bhí sé mícheart orm leas a bhaint as mac tíre ar meisce a bhí ag teastáil go mór le rud éigin chun an poll a líonadh ina chroí ina chroí. Ní mise a chroí ... ach ní féidir liom an toradh a bheith orm. Is é an Legacy an t-aon torthaí den oíche sin, Paladin. Ba mhaith liom a thabhairt duit chugat an nóiméad a thuig mé, ach bhí muid chomh fada uainn. D'ainmnigh mé a Caoimhe "Legacy" Ancora, chun d'ainm a urramú."

Paladin’s eyes roved over her face, drinking her in, and Legacy finally took a breath, speaking up for the first time since she and her mother had left the Camp. Despite her lingering fears, she spoke with a quiet confidence, first to her father, then to Aurielle, though her eyes never left her sire’s, "Dúirt an mháthair liom cad a bhí a fhios aici uait, agus theastaigh uaim bualadh leat. Lady, má tá sé ceart go leor leat, ba mhaith liom a bheith páirteach Valhalla. Chríochnaigh mé beagnach mo oiliúint bhunúsach i gcneasú, agus tá ceann maith agam le haghaidh sainchomharthaí tíre agus saothar léarscáile. Má tá mé agamsa, táim sásta."

She paused, holding her breath as the air fell silent. It was in the glowing Queen’s paws, now.

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think