18 Feb 2012

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Posted 18 Feb 2012 04:05
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Shadow Dancer

All hope rests on a young man

Imagine the way you used to be."

"But I can't remember..."

"Imagine how it felt to move, swim through the oceans then!"

"But I can't remember..."

"If you don't, you'll be lost forever."

"I can't..."

"Then I can't help you. You'll die, and not even the Memories will keep you. You will die in the Shadows."

"But Im slipping away, why won't you help?'

"It's not my job to help you Mortal. We only intervene when the hope for all is at stake. Not the hope for _one. When you still have options, when there are still things you can do, we will not help you."

"But what's the use of that? What's the use of a God?"

"It's called free will Mortal. You will do well to remember it, as you should remember your body.'


"I tire of that word, as I tire of you. Wake up.'

















A Weaving Realm Novel by Natasha 'Silence' McAuley

edited by:

notes: All languages are not English but to make things easier terms, words an objects are called by their english name unless alien-made specifically.


Thanks to Darrius Fletcher(Gregain and a secret person number two), Hannah  (Ambassador Sunstrike and Lysandrii), Kane Archer (Kayne Frost-burn Fleshweaver, doctor of science and abnormal genetics) and the artist Ashlee Viral Divinity(Furaffinity)(Mistress Virashlee), for being lights in my life, allowing me to use what they gave me and putting them in my story.







           Chapter One

   Experience: that most brutal of teachers. But you learn, my God do you learn.

CS. Lewis




"Is that all you can tell me?...Jo-Johannas?" The voice hissed its sibilants choking in the middle of each sentence and this was one of the Kyseer well taught in speaking the human tongue. He was a proud one actually, first to be able to splice human genes with Kyseer, first to roll out the little goo covered freak from its sac, cut it open and hold it to the glaring bright light and name it.


Jo winced, gave him a look narrowing pitch black eyes-the one true Kyseer addition that had passed on except he only had four, they had six.. And he lacked the third, and foremost the special one to see magics, to see the elements the Kyseer and dubbed weaver magics. But he didn't need it-hadn't told them that yet, he suspected they knew though. The slimy bastards always knew.


"Don't, "He was proud, unlike them his voice did not hiss, though he didn't have a beak to force words around, "Call me that."


A huge head turned to the side leveling a curious gaze at the halfbreed at its clawed hands, the massive dagger like talons clicking in the cold steel of the ground. That was terribly unnerving and he found himself shifting a bit not wanting the good Doctor to know he was nervous.


"And why not? It is your name." The Kyseer commented beak clacking, the almost metalic noise of it and his stomach sunk. At least, Jo was glad that the good doctor had not gone the way of the insane color loving hippies most of his people were and opted to keep his primary color the same as birth, a bright almost calming blue going grey with age. Had he been pink the sight of a pink tongue rolling in a mouth easily large enough to tear off his arm would have made him sick. Father or not.


"It's a stupid name." He felt childish whining about this-again. But come on, everyone else had a -proper- name. But no, they decided Experiment 001 was to..too impersonal so they named him Johannes, Jo, because all humans looked alike or something and haha, they found the name John in one of the books they had saved in the crash or something. Stupid Kyseer humor.


Though he had to admit as he sat there, admiring the good Doctor, that it could have been worse. He wouldn't have minded getting more of their scales, or their size because hey how had he turned out runty? First proper try or not, he only stood at five and a half feet and they towered at seven for the smallest. Weighed close to a few thousand pounds on land and made the gross, or cutest depending on your preferences, squishy noises as they flopped awkwardly about.


He didn't even have the plate on plate armor they had developed over time, except the good Doctor had told him it was chitin or something, actual flesh not armor and they shed so okay that would have sucked but come on. Armor would have been nice. His body had scales, actual scales, it seemed altering human genes with kyseer had ended up with that, covering him from head to toe. He lacked the secondary set of arms as well that the Kyseer had and used to power themselves around awkwardly on land. His still had the 'wing' flap, a thick layer of membrane skin that they used to help with swimming, except his own was more awkward and bat like, and unlike theirs, was not colored a secondary color except a very vague, pale cream white. Not the brightest, boring, and something a Kyseer would call 'sickly' actually. He did his best to keep it folded up against his side since he could not wear shirts like every other 'human' because of it, or the frill that ran from his forehead down his spine, the same milky 'sickly' white color taken over there as well.


He supposed he should have been glad he hadn't been given flippers, or what ever they called their lower halves. Kyseer bodies naturally turned into two thick 'flippers', akin to that of seals of old Earth, he had seen pictures on the history vid cubes, except unlike them they had muscles that could contract and soften allowing more movement on land, and in the water. It was sort of cool to watch, not that he'd ever tell any of them, especially his 'Father'.


No, instead he had 'human' legs, except his bent a tad to much to be considered normal, more like that of a dog really giving him an awkward lope when he tried to walk. His feet were huge two, three claws, webbed just like his fingers, he could swim faster than any human at least. Didn't stop him from wishing he wasn't a genetic freak covered in silver scales and white frills.

Oh well, you couldn't change your birth.


The good Doctor sighed lifted a clawed hand to tap a talon over his 'temple' tracing over the horn that glowed currently an agitated milky red. He was getting old, his weaver eye had gone pink ages ago, his skin grey around the edges and he wasn't due to shed for some time. Jo sighed, he wished he wasn't such a problem child he was pretty sure half those grey scales were because of him.


He remained quiet, like a good little contrite boy as the Doctor curled his 'finger' over his mobile horn, touching the bio-luminesence appendage. It was a calming thing, he had been told before, but never dared try it himself. You either did it yourself or let your partner, or Yju'thii, Mind-Partner, do it. It was some where below raping and above molestation if you weren't invited to touch a Kyseer that way, or at all especially if their mind magic was that advanced like the good doctors.


"You are upset?" The Doctor asked, clacked his beak again and made Jo wince, really wishing he wouldn't do that again. It sounded to much like two dry skulls cracking together and he had enough nightmares to deal with.


"No..yes.I don't know!" He cried out, smacking his hand against the steel ground in fury and instantly regretted it when he felt the sharp sting of pain. Ow. He held it to his chest, rubbing it as he stared sadly up at his 'Father'.


"I don't like being different." He offered quietly under his breath. "And the names a big joke with the humans you know. Doesn't help that ALREL is.." And he stopped talking for a look of anger had settled over his 'Father's face, and anger was not something one just got used to seeing on a Kyseer's face. With a facial structure that was more akin to that of dragons of lore, with muzzles and cracked beaks, they almost seemingly always grinned. An angry Kyseer was a terrifying sight.


"Alien Relations has no right to disturb us about you, or any of our half breed plans...." But he turned his head away feeling along the ground for what he was looking for, his paperwork. Jo's body temperature and the rooms made it hard for his eyes to differentiate between either, and his age didn't help his ability to see heat.


"Here, I want you to read this." He hissed, handing him a square crystal vid cube. Jo took it, frowning as he cradled the quartz in his injured palm.


"Why?" he asked, not quite sure if he wanted to know.


"Because. Now go, you are making me feel old. Don't you have training at the temple to go to?" The Doctor looked at him, helplessly and with a sigh Jo stood up wrapped his arms around that beaked, armored head and gave him a human kiss between his eyeridges. He warbled his delight, he always did, this was one form of affection only they shared and no one else.


"Fine. But you aren't old." He offered, pocketed the cube as he swept to the door adjusting the awkward flowing fabric he had to wear. He wasn't sure if he had heard right, but he could have sworn he heard a muttered 'your momma is old' joke before the door hissed shut. Surely not, he hadn't rubbed off on the good Doctor that much.


Or so he hoped. The idea of Kyseer his age saying yo momma jokes made him shudder.



"And what are you doing, Squishflop?" The voice held a faint sing song to it, female by the tone and Jo sighed turned around to blink his second set of eyelids at her. Usually that got the true humans disgusted but she just grinned, wickedly at him and he looked pained. Vaguely confused, but pained.


As humans went, he'd have to say she would have been ravishingly beautiful if it wasn't for the fact that she was an Ur-addict, and well..female. Her eyes had already gone pink, and there for sightless probably years ago and she clutched a cup that had the scent of Ur to her chest, like it was some holy relic.


He frowned clacked his thin lips together, nails clicking against his com pad. He had been reading, but perhaps a bar was not the best place for such a time passer after all. He had hoped considering it was one of the out of way ones, and off duty that the only ones here would be Heket'ari's and the occasional human weaver or a Taya'a, and maybe at best one odd Rhaakshia but look at his luck..


He pretended to ignore her turning back to his vid com and watching the words, glowing a faint red, scroll past. He was on the part where it was just getting good too, the vid was explaining the Mardixu rebellion, why ALREL was afraid of things like him and-


A hand stopped in front of his screen messing up the holo-pad and he hissed in the back of his throat his short mobile horns twitching backwards in dislike, glowing a faint angry red.


"I said what are you doing Squishflop?" She purred and he was aghast to realize that other scent. His nose was far more advanced, thanks to his kyseer genetics. She was flirting with him!


"I..." he wasn't quite sure what to say, fuck off seemed a tad to rude and plus-she was blind how did she know he was-


"I can smell you. And you click when you type. Talons. And since you lack that deliciously disgusting fish smell of the full bloods, that makes you a squishflop. A halfling. And since there is only one halfling that us peons are aware of, your name is Jo is it not?" She explained before he could even finish and he sighed feeling the stab of pain in his temple that meant someone was screwing around in his brain. Jo' was quick to put up his mental barriers, cursing himself for not having them up in the first place.


"It's rude to probe." He hissed at her, hating how animal he sounded right now in his agitated state.


"You weren't guarded." She offered back, smirked as she leaned against the table, hips turned just right and he shuddered looked away. He needed to run, run quick and far away and maybe he could get back to his story.


"That's no excuse. You know the rules. No weaver magic allowed without permission unless it's for someones life or the Pantheon." He muttered at her, nearly tugged out his code chip hanging around his neck to chuck it at her-before he remembered she was blind.


" Squishflop, what are you doing?" She murmured, ignoring his prior questions.


The red got darker and he felt it seep along to his cheek scales, felt his world twist a bit. Jo became aware of the shadows around them, that they thickened as he watched them eyes expanding than contracting and expanding again watching the faint hint of purple hue whirl over them, twirl and writhe like some erotic dance. The shadow magic, it was just as intoxicating to him as that Ur was to her...


Except his was brought on by his extreme feelings of discomfort, his anger at being interrupted, at such a rude word. It was childish, but his day had been drawn out with temple teaching, and all he had wanted to do was read.


"Look, go back to your stupid drink and leave me alone." He hissed, curled his hand up on itself and with it came threads of shadows curling darker, and darker around his hand.


He didn't notice.


She arched a brown eyebrow, head cocked to the side. "Someone's in a bad mood." She simpered leaned out a hand and when it touched him he nearly bolted right then and there, projecting his distress into the nearest mind he could find. He didn't, couldn't handle anyone touching him unless he welcomed the touch. Touch held things, held memories, held emotions and he didn't want to know what she was thinking or feeling or any of that-


"Is there a problem here?" A furred, four fingered hand, armored except the last digits landed on his shoulder heavily and he froze-but with it came nothing but calm, icy cold in his mind and a harsh mind voice that reminded him of his Father. You are projecting loudly, do you need aide half-breed?


He turned dark eyes meeting pale creamy ones set in a furred, muzzled face. A lower jaw stuck out a bit more than most muzzled creatures, thick and muscular with two furred feelers that curled over and to the side, like a mustache. His mouth, flared nostrils and those feelers glowed a faint calming bright blue and when he spoke the blue became more prominent and obvious. A set of short, curved ears flicked back as he gave stare for stare, seemingly amused if Jo was any good at reading Heket'ari emotions.


As Heket'ari went-this one was quite the fine male specimen. His fur was a dark red nearly black except around the eyes and muzzle, where it was going grey with age. He wore the normal armor of the guards, a light metallic white plating over his chest, arms and legs, the cap on his viciously dangerous long tail carved with what Jo saw was a Kyseeran symbol. Good, this one would be on his side. Or so he hoped.


He couldn't project back, he was not a telepath like this Heket'ari was but he stared at him, pleaded and the canine like man cleared his throat tapped his hand with his tail cap and when he looked down Jo realized what he had almost done. Disgusted with himself he released the shadows he had been curling up there stared at the Heket'ari warrior in fear. Would he tell on him..? Weaver magics outside of the temples, the Pantheon and the healer halls was against the rules no matter who you were. Especially when you were a halfbreed freak...


"Human, I think it is time for you to go." The warrior forced words past a thick muzzle as he grabbed the human female by her arm. She looked puny compared to his massive eight feet of height and muscle and yet she struggled.


"I was just asking a polite question." She snapped.


Jo withdrew feeling confusion, other things waring in his head, questions. Like how he had managed to nearly obliterate her and not even realize it. He snatched up his cube, drank down the rest of his drink and shuffled awkwardly backwards.


"Hekat-Johannes does not wish for guest. You will return to your quarters. I will escort you." And before she could protest-or he could ask how this particular Hekatarian knew his name the girl was all but carried outside of the bar leaving a few amused off work humans and two more Hekatar'ians watching them withdraw.


I will not tell Hekat-Johannes, but you will come by the temple tomorrow, the temple of the Light. This one is called Gregain, you will meet me there. And I will not expose your little secret. Keep your shields tight before the other Hekatarians 'hear' you as well


The mind voice was oddly relaxing, though it was gruff and left him feeling as though something had brushed against the inside of his head. He hoped the guard got back his feeling of assurance, that he understood and he would show up to the Temple of the Light, the temple of Zaffii the White, one of the more obscure deities when it came to the Pantheon, but also the one he did not want to visit-and hadn't till tomorrow he supposed.


Zaffii's priests followed the light, just as their Deity did, and like him they only harnessed the Light-weaving and sent any Shadow-Weavers that dared to set step in their temple to that of Zaffii's twin, Mardixu, the spirit of water, the god who could take the very life force of the Kyseer away from them, and had in the past, if the Mardixu Rebellion of 4020 was anything to go by. He would have to get back to his story, Jo decided as he hurried to his room, and finish it before he went to the temple of Zaffii, he would need to be prepared, he wasn't sure why but a strange feeling swept through him as he hugged the cube to his chest and ran through the metalic hallways for his rooms. A feeling of dread.