May Challenge: "Gone Away the Golden Sun"

[Cobalt Frost]

The events related in my entry for this month's challenge tie fairly closely to the events in my entry for the September '09 challenge, which you can find here: http://trekbbs.com/showthread.php?t=128701

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Now...

Something flashed across his mind, a sound that struggled to cut through the dream-haze. It came from a voice that seemed impossibly distant and yet achingly intimate, a voice at once reassuringly real and the stuff of deepest fantasy. The sound was a name, yes, his name… He was.. he was human again. Again?

“Gabriel.”

The word floated through the dreamscape, seemingly taking shape and dancing like a leaf on the wind. The storm of ethereal images raging through Gabriel's mind threatened to overcome the word, but somehow it persisted, and echoed… No, not an echo; it was being said again. She was saying it again.

"Gabriel."

The tone grew more insistent, and was now accompanied by an urgent but comforting touch. The voice combined with the touch, becoming an anchor to a half-remembered life. My life? The thought was like a rock through a plate glass window. As the dreamscape fractured, shattering into shards that cut through his mind, Gabriel latched on to that anchor and held tightly.

"Gabriel!"

Instantly, violently, the world – the real world – took shape, banishing the dreams to the dark corners of his mind. Gabriel opened his eyes, taking oddly-needed comfort in the mundane details of the quarters he shared with Connie. Desk: there, framed art: that wall, uniform: tossed carelessly over that chair. The streaks of light that cut through the black of deep space cast a soft, surreal glow through the room and told Gabriel that the ship, his ship, was cruising at warp speeds.

“Chikushoume, Gabriel, you scared me.” Gabriel reached over and took Connie’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He knew she was freaked out if she was swearing in Japanese.

“What happened?” he said quietly.

“It must have been one hell of a dream,” Connie replied. “You were really tossing and turning, and what you said…” She shivered despite herself. “Something about a sun, and gold, and the sun going out. No, not out, but.. away?”

Gabriel stiffened. “A golden sun?”

“Yes, that was it. What…?” Connie’s question was cut off as Gabriel abruptly jumped out of bed, throwing on his uniform while simultaneously slapping his combadge.

“Kromm,” was all he said, speaking to Challenger’s ‘air boss’. There was an urgency in Gabriel’s voice of a sort Connie hadn’t heard before. She looked at him quizzically, but his focus was elsewhere.

“Hlja’wlj joH’a’!” growled the Klingon. “SoH Daq vagh.” Gabriel finished dressing, then reached in the closet for his Celvani kal’haven, an intricately stitched tabard. He looked at Connie, still in bed and clutching a blanket to her chest.

“Get dressed, Connie. We have to go.”

* * *

The aged yet still beautiful woman stirred in her bed, turning her head towards the sound of two people entering her house. The sounds of one, she did not recognize.. a woman, by her tread. But the other – ah, the other – his sounds she knew instantly. A warm smile crossed her face, and tears danced at the edges of her rheumy, nearly blind eyes as Gabriel and Connie stepped hesitantly into the bedroom.

“Tiosa,” she said, her voice heavy with emotion. “O’ho’ulho Third Traveller. Have you come home after lo these long years, come to guide my steps to the Raven’s Gate?”

“Sasa’l,” whispered Gabriel, as if hesitant to voice the name of the one he’d abandoned so many lifetimes ago. He noted the faded colors of the timeworn robe she wore, the tarnished metal of the comb in her hair. “Revered One.” Gabriel knelt at the side of the bed, taking Sasa’l’s hands in his. “I have come…” He bit back the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. “I have come to beg forgiveness, honored Mother.”

“Ah, Tiosa. There is nothing to forgive.” She smiled again. “There is cantu in the kitchen, fresh from Khor’u just this morning.”

“But, honored Mother…” Gabriel stroked her hand gently. “Sasa’l…”

She looked over at Gabriel, her eyes for a long moment taking on a familiar clarity. “You haven’t aged a day… Is it true, then, what they say of you?” Gabriel opened his mouth to speak, but Sasa’l cut him off.

“Nothing to forgive,” she said firmly.

Gabriel persisted. “But I lied to you.”

“Yes, yes you did. When I thought you dead, I cried, and cursed your name, and for many a year I hated you…”


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[Cobalt Frost]

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Then...

“H-he.. He, he’s gone,” Sasa’l managed to get out between the sobs wracking her body. She looked up at Y’sol, eyes red with long hours of crying and bearing the dark circles of very little sleep. “Honored Mother, he’s gone, he’s dead. I, I…” Sasa’l fell to her knees, unable to say any more, her tears splashing on the hand-crafted shuta tiles of Y’sol’s kitchen floor.

Y’sol put a comforting hand on Sasa’l’s head. “Peace, child. The forms must be obeyed. Stay here the night; tomorrow we of the community shall mourn him, and when that is done, you will return to your home and mourn as one who loved him. Then, return to me, for I have much to tell you before we can begin.”

“Begin?”

“All things in their time, Sasa’l. Rest now.”

“Yes… Thank you, honored Mother.” They sat in silence for the next few hours, watching as the twin suns fell, moving towards the silver sea on the horizon. Y’sol prepared khetra tea with a mild soporific for Sasa’l. Soon after, they shared an evening prayer to the Ones above, and for the first time in several days, Sasa’l slept.

The next day, all who lived on Khor’u, as well as hundreds who lived on surrounding islands, came to the Sanctuary in the center of the island. Y’sol and the other elders led the islanders in the mourning Rites, observing the forms with exacting precision. At the conclusion of the Rites, any who wished were allowed to speak, and there were many. Sasa’l, however, remained silent, speaking only when the Rites required. She had so much she wanted to say, but found no strength to give voice to her feelings. Her only words were those prescribed by the Rites.

Finally, though reluctantly, the elders dispersed the throng. There were many who’d not had a chance to speak, so many whose lives had been touched directly or indirectly by Tiosa’s time among them. Our time is done, the elders said gently, now it is the time of she who loved him. She must be allowed to grieve, as the forms allow.

Sasa’l kept her eyes to the ground as she made her way back to her boat, the mihro robe of mourning heavy on her shoulders. Though night had long since fallen, her way was lit by hundreds of lanterns, held by those who’d come to Khor’u to mourn. The night itself was exceptionally clear, and the light of Thala, the First Moon, blended with the lanterns on the islanders’ boats and the faint glow from Araelin, the Second Moon, as it rose slowly, creating a bright path from Khor’u to the island where Sasa’l lived.

Sasa’l sailed home, tying up her boat and walking the well-worn path to home as if in a stupor. She collapsed on the couch, the faint aroma of cantu tickling her nose. Sobs once again consumed her, but no tears came. As the Third Moon, Draelos, crested the horizon, Sasa’l fell into a deep sleep, restless but, mercifully, dreamless.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Sasa’l spent the next few – days? weeks? – in a daze, honestly not knowing how much time had passed since she’d left the Sanctuary at the end of the mourning Rites. She went through the motions of daily life robotically.. when she wasn’t crying for hours or trying to get what sleep she could, that is. When she did manage to find sleep, it was on the oversized couch by the hearth, or curled up in a ball on the floor. Sasa’l couldn’t bring herself to sleep in the bed, not yet, for fear of disturbing the ghost that lingered there. Oh, Tiosa…

At some point, Sasa’l decided that she simply couldn’t spend another moment in the house. She flung the door open and ran as if the Dreambinder himself were at her back. Their island – no, just the island, now – was relatively large; it took just over an hour to walk from the eastern to the western shore. Sasa’l’s feet found the paths she used to walk with Tiosa before she knew it, but she didn’t care, wandering aimlessly. Eventually she made her way to what Tiosa had called the Bowsprit, a rocky spit of land that stabbed into the cerulean waters of the ocean beyond. The rocks dug into her bare feet as she made her way to the end of the spit; Sasa’l barely noticed the pain. For a long while she sat on a large, relatively flat rock at the very end of the Bowsprit, seemingly hypnotized by the waves.

Sasa’l didn’t know how long she’d been on the rock, but the complaints of her aching backside prompted her to stand. She felt the sea spray – oddly cold, for this time of year – tickle her face as a strengthening breeze caused her waist-length hair to dance wildly. Sasa’l turned to head back, but the waves had covered the Bowsprit. Realizing that she’d missed the signs of a rising storm, and knowing there was no path back to the island, Sasa’l defiantly faced the raging tempest. All the hurt, anger, and frustration she felt came out as she cried her rage to the uncaring waves.

“Come, then, and take me as you took him!” The light dress she had on offered little protection from the wind-driven water, which stung her skin like the bites of a thousand h’rda bugs. “Take me, cursed sea, and perhaps beyond the Raven’s Gate, perhaps in death I will find in his arms that love which he denied me in life!” Sasa’l flung her bare arms wide. “TAKE ME!”

The sea raged around her, seemingly taking no notice, but then, as if bothering to answer her wish, a huge wave crashed over the Bowsprit and slammed into Sasa’l, throwing her back. The force of the wave stunned Sasa’l; first, she felt her entire body scream with pain, then she felt a sensation of lightness, then finally she felt nothing at all.

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Sasa’l opened her eyes slowly. The last thing she remembered was screaming at the sea, and then… She looked around, somewhat surprised to find herself exactly where she’d wished to be. But if I’m here, she thought as she stood, why is he not here to greet me? Where is Tiosa?

Sasa’l began to wander, always keeping the ebon pillars of the Raven’s Gate in view while looking for, if not Tiosa, then at least a familiar face. The world around her was beautiful, though oddly hazy. Eventually she made her way back to the Gate, determined to wait there until Tiosa came to find her.

Before long, someone did approach her, but it was not her beloved. Sasa’l stood as she recognized Nos, the young fisherman who’d died in the storm Tiosa predicted before he.. before he’d left her. Sasa’l had been close to Nos’ mother, and had spent some time with them over the years. They embraced warmly.

“You don’t belong here,” said Nos matter-of-factly. “Your time is not yet come.”

“Where is Tiosa?” Sasa’l asked, unable to keep the desperation from her voice. “Why did he not come to greet me?”

“Ah, Sasa’l. He is not here, for his time is not yet come. And even if it had, his would not be the hand to take yours as you passed through the Gate. It will pain you to hear it, Sasa’l, but he does not belong to you, nor you to him.”

“But.. but, he loved me!”

“Yes, yes he did. But he does not belong to you. He is destined for another. Take comfort in the knowing that you have a part in his legend.”

“Legend?” she repeated. “Where is he? Where is Tiosa?”

“There are answers waiting, Sasa’l,” Nos said, smiling. “All things in their time…”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *


Sasa’l woke, bruised and sore but miraculously alive, some hours after the storm had passed and some distance from the Bowsprit. The suns were bright, and the air still bore the pleasant coolness that it often did after a storm.

What an odd dream, Sasa’l thought, standing on unsteady feet and heading back to the house. Dream or no, Nos was right. All things in their time, and now is the time I leave this place, for a while at least. Sasa’l blushed with embarrassment at her next thought. I have perhaps kept the honored Mother waiting too long…

A few hours later, Sasa’l knocked on Y’sol’s door. At her feet was a small bag, containing some clothes and other necessities; Sasa’l had left nearly everything in their.. in the house, taking only what she needed. Before she’d left, she’d burned the mihro robe of mourning, as the forms demanded, signifying that she was finally finished grieving. More than just fulfilling the dictates of the forms, however, Sasa’l found that burning the robe lifted a weight from her heart that she thought she’d bear forever.

Y’sol opened her door, a knowing smile on her face. “Sasa’l, golden one, welcome.” She gave Sasa’l a motherly hug. “Come in, do come in. I have fresh p’mar. Join me in the mid-day meal?”

“Yes, of course, honored Mother.” Sasa’l stepped in to Y’sol’s modest home, setting her bag out of the way before following Y’sol to the kitchen. She thought she could still see her tears staining the shuta tiles. Y’sol noticed Sasa’l’s eyes, and smiled again.

“Some ghosts linger longer than others,” she said. “Come, let us eat before the p’mar loses its chill.” After a small but filling meal, Y’sol and Sasa’l took seats on Y’sol’s back porch. Sasa’l took the opportunity to recount to Y’sol her experience during the recent storm.

“Was it a dream, honored Mother?” asked Sasa’l. “Was it a vision?”

“Yes,” said Y’sol. Sasa’l groaned in frustration.

“Apologies, honored Mother, but I think I deserve the truth. No more riddles!”

“The truth, dear child?” Y’sol sat silently for a moment, as if listening to a distant voice that only she could hear. “Yes, I do believe it’s time…”

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[Cobalt Frost]

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Now...

“And did she tell you.. the truth?”

“Yes, yes she did, Gabriel Frost. Cap-tain.” Sasa’l smiled. “The words are strange on my tongue. Gabriel Frost.” Her pronunciation was nearly perfect, with just a hint of her islander accent. “It is your name, but not, I think, your true name.” Sasa’l was silent for a long moment. “At least, not yet. Perhaps in time...

“But yes, she did tell me the truth. Or some of the truth; the rest I had to learn for myself.” Gabriel looked at Sasa’l expectantly, as if waiting for some long-anticipated revelation. She smiled again.

“Some of those truths, Tiosa, are not meant for your ears.” Sasa’l looked over at Connie, then back to Gabriel. “There is cantu in the kitchen, and you will find your study nearly as you left it.” Taking the hint, Gabriel stood, resting a hand affectionately on Connie’s shoulder before leaving the two women alone.

“So,” said Sasa’l, her face unreadable, “you are the one.” Connie blushed, unsure of how to respond.

“Honored Mother, I…” Her voice dropped to a near-whisper. “Don’t hate me,” she blurted, suddenly self-conscious.

“Hate you? Oh, dear one…” Sasa’l reached up and touched Connie’s face affectionately. “You are my sister! I could never hate you. I have envied you, and my heart aches for you, but I have never hated you. Tiosa I knew I would see again, but I could only hope that I would meet you.”

Sasa’l pointed to a small stack of notebooks resting on the nightstand. “He wrote in these, nearly each night of our time together. I want you to have them.”

“But, honored Mother, they must be precious to you. How could I take them?”

Sasa’l laughed lightly. “Dear one, I cannot take them where I am bound. Take them, read them, and perhaps you will gain new understanding of the man who loves you. He made the paper himself, you know, from the bark of the khetra tea-bush.” Sasa’l smiled at the memories. “I did not find those books until years had passed since his leaving, and written as they were in his native tongue, it was years more before I could understand them. It was in those books that I learned of you.

“And oh, how he loves you! Such a love is a rare, beautiful thing.” Sasa’l’s voice grew serious, and she fixed Connie with a surprisingly piercing gaze. “My heart aches for you,” she repeated. “The path he walks, the path of the Traveller, is a hard road, but you, as his Companion… Your road is the harder still, for you must be strong not only for yourself, but for him. Tiosa.. Gabriel will lean on you, will depend on you, will need you…

“Connie Taylor, your father named you; Nagase Ayuko, your mother named you; Tal’iavra, Gabriel named you. Naeiya Ahu’ayto, I name you, sister of my soul." An unexpected sob wracked Sasa’l’s frail body. “When all around him fails, you must not.”

Connie felt tears welling in her eyes. “I won’t, honored Mother. I love him too much.”

Sasa’l gave Connie’s hands a firm squeeze, then called for Gabriel. A moment later, he stepped back into the bedroom. “I am here, honored Mother.”

“My time draws to an end, Tiosa. Remember me as you will, but,” and Sasa’l gestured at Connie, “love her with all, all of your heart.” Sasa’l’s breathing grew shallow. Gabriel leaned down and whispered, “na’eithen rul, esdraeon.” Dream no ill, beloved. And then, for the first, last, and only time, he kissed Sasa’l ever-so-gently on the lips.

“I see the Raven’s Gate,” Sasa’l said. “Oh, Tiosa, Gabriel… it’s magnificent…” Her eyes fluttered shut, and her breathing slowed as if she was falling asleep. For a long moment, there was silence, and then something happened that Connie never would have expected.

Gabriel started to sing.

His baritone singing voice was honestly unremarkable. There was something about the words, though… Gabriel sang in a language Connie had never heard, and though she couldn’t understand what he was saying, something in the words struck her like a bolt of lightning. Before she knew it, tears were stinging her eyes and streaming down her face. She couldn’t say how long Gabriel sang, but when he was finished, Connie felt something in her heart, something at once a warming, soothing calm and an aching, lonely emptiness.

Finally, Gabriel stood. He looked at Sasa’l one last time; there was a peaceful smile on her face that spoke volumes. Gabriel took Connie’s hand in his, pulling the curtains closed before they left the bedroom. One or two errant beams of the setting suns poked through the curtains, but soon all was shrouded in a comfortable darkness.

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End

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The title is taken from the song "Mersey Lullaby" by Gerry and the Pacemakers, featured in the book/CD "Blue Moo" by Sandra Boynton.

 

[Rush Limborg]

A most fascinating tale--one of love lost, and love found. I imagine it's part of a continuing storyine of your universe. Still, it was easy to get into, and well written. My compliments.