The travails of trying to communicate

Nerves racked, anger sated, calm restored

The second the door closed, Heather suddenly felt like she would throw up.  As she frantically looked around for a bucket, Balgair watched her.

“Is something wrong?” Now, what’s wrong?  It can’t be her health because Ananke healed her.  Could it be nerves?

The blonde-headed bean-cheangail took a deep heavy breath.  “I don’t know if I can do this, Maighstir.”  She wondered if she looked as green as she felt. 

“Do what, mo tè àlainn?” It’s got to be nerves.  Even though he figured it was nerves, he didn’t know what he could do about it other than let her experience what she felt was making her sick.

“Face your two bannaichean.” She heaved another deep breath.  “Do they know that I exist?  Will they hate me?  Are they going to be mad at me?”  She grabbed the table's edge as her knees threatened to go out from under her. 

Now I get it. Balgair stepped over and slipped an arm around her.  “It’ll be okay, mo tè àlainn, by now they know about you.” 

Heather looked panicked. “How?  Who told them?  Why?”  She looked like she was ready to run away.

“Balgair put his arms around her and touched his forehead to hers.  “Shhh, mo tè àlainn.  The one that healed you has undoubtedly told Amelia and Nell about you.  It’s part of the bonding.  Just as I can feel you, so can they.” 

As she took refuge in his arms, Heather slowly started to relax.  “Why won’t they be mad at me? I asked for you to bond me.”  She whispered as she drank in his presence. 

“That’s true,” Balgair softly caressed her back, offering comfort.  “But I didn’t have to bond you.  I chose to do so, and they’ll understand that.” 

Heather lifted her head and gazed into Balgair’s eyes.  “I sort of expected you to say no,” she softly admitted.  “I was afraid that you would tell me to go away.”  She kissed him again, holding him as close as he held her.  “I’m grateful that you didn’t.  I don’t know what I would have done.” 

“I understand,” Balgair commented, “I know that Amelia will welcome you with open arms, and Nell will not like you at first, but she’ll warm up to you.”  He gently caressed her cheek.  “If you are Ananke’s idea of an Unhail, you’ll win her over in no time.” 

After a few minutes, she let go of Balgair.  “I’m ready, I think.”  She looked calmer, and some color had returned to her face.  “Are we going to talk to them first?”

Balgair shook his head. “No, we’ll need to talk to Maighstir Rhyslin first.  He has the nearest Communication crystal to my place.  If they aren’t already waiting at his Manse, it’ll take them a half-auir to get there.” He explained. “Which will be a good thing. I’ll need to talk to him about the contract first.”

Heather nodded, mollified, and gracefully sank to her knees to wait.  Why does this feel so comfortable now?  Just ten days ago, I wouldn’t have even knelt to Brutus for food, but would I have by now?  She settled her skirt around her knees and rested back on her heels.  Am I growing used to this?  That thought scared her; after two days, she was comfortable at Balgair’s feet. 

A smile of satisfaction crossed her lips as she raised one hand and brushed her hair over her shoulder.  She sat back and watched as Balgair approached the communication crystal.  She watched as he took a few deep breaths and touched the crystal.

In that weird other space that ruled the crystal’s usage, Balgair faced a blue-skinned being who held another crystal, this one smaller and greenish-colored.  “You are Balgair Moeldr, the Captain of the Black Swans of the Black Hills Division.”  There was never any doubt that it knew who Balgair was, and he nodded.  “your passphrase is Bidh na h-ealachan dubha ag itealaich tron oidhche Na till air ais bhon t-sabaid a-riamh.”  Balgair nodded again.

“I am, and it is.” 

“To whom do you wish to speak?”  The creature said as it angled its crystal toward the mercenary.

“To Maighstir Draoidh Rhyslin Darkblade of Am Flur Manse.” 

“This can be done.  Do you agree to pay the price in life energy?” 

“I do,” Balgair stated as he raised his right hand to place on the crystal. 

The being summoned up an image of Heather and gestured in her direction.  “Is your bean-cheangail going to be joining you on the communication?”

“Yes, she will, and I will pay her portion as well,” Balgair stated. 

The being stared at him momentarily as if consulting a higher power.  Then, with a shrug, it lowered the crystal so that Balgair could place his hand on it.  As usual, Balgair felt as if he were drained.  “Your communication will commence in fifteen universal time units,” Balgair translated as diogan[1].  It waved its hand, and Balgair found himself back in his body.

He blew out a slow, refreshing breath when he opened his eyes. That’s a bit more than I’m used to giving.  He placed his hands on the blackened frame around the crystal and watched as it went from darkness to a soft light that further cleared to reveal a familiar face staring back at him. 

“Captain Moeldr.” One could never tell how old the draoidh was, as his face looked like a man in his fifties.  There were few lines or age marks, and even his hazel eyes betrayed no hint of his age.  The White hair that fell to his shoulders was the only thing that could hint at his age, but even that wasn’t very helpful. 

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