Completion
The rainy season had ended, and the elves at the Great Holt were anxiously waiting for the new-green to begin. Now that the floodwaters had receded, the world below the high water line was all gray and brown. A thick layer of dead leaves coated the roots of the banyan trees. Great sinks of runny mud were slowly drying out into thick plots of quicksand.
Weatherbird and Cheipar walked down the washed-out path. For the last three months life had been confined to the highlands and the treetops, and the young lovemates had eagerly looked forward to the day when they could actually set foot on firm ground again. Cheipar slipped his arm around Weatherbird and leaned in to nuzzle her ear.
“Hi!” a little elf-child swung down from the trees and hung upside-down in front of them, his legs wrapped about a low-hanging branch.
Weatherbird smiled warmly. She turned and twisted her head about so that she could look him square in the eyes. “You look funny,” she pronounced. She reached out and fluffed his silver hair.
He giggled. “So do you.”
Weatherbird straightened. “Does Skywise know you’re here?”
The five-year-old smiled. “I escaped,” he whispered conspiratorially. He grinned, then reached up and flipped down from the branch. “Hi!” he said again, now looking at Cheipar.
Cheipar smiled and nodded.
“Why don’t you ever talk? That’s very odd, isn’t it? It is, isn’t it, Weatherbird? He never talks. Hardly even ever sends. Even Strongbow sends. I’ve met Strongbow, you know. Skywise took me to Thorny Mountain in the Palace. Strongbow sends. He sends all the time. But you don’t. Why not?”
Cheipar bent down and locked eyes with the cub. “Because I don’t think I should say anything unless I have something to say,” he said deliberately. “And right now I don’t.”
“You could tell me what you did today. You could tell me a joke. You could say all sorts of things.” He smiled slyly. “You were going to whisper something to Weatherbird, weren’t you? I bet you whisper all sorts of things to her, huh?”
“Cricket!” Weatherbird exclaimed. Cheipar raised a hand to his mouth to hide his bemused smile.
They heard a crash through the trees. “Oooh,” Cricket’s blue eyes were wide. “Have to go now.” He took two bounds across the muddy ground before Skywise dropped from the trees and caught the back of Cricket’s tunic.
“Aha!” Skywise lifted the cub up off the ground. “Gotcha! You’re not giving me the slip again.”
Cricket whined. Quicksilver and Cheipar chuckled.
Skywise plunked the cub back on the ground. “Now are you going to behave?”
“No!”
“Fine. I’ll put you on a leash.”
“Cheat!”
“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” Skywise sighed. “Why Mother and Father Recognized again just to produce you, I’ll never know. Let’s go, you. I’m supposed to be taking you for a walk.”
“I was walking.”
“And hoping and bouncing and getting into all sorts of trouble. Come on.” He marched Cricket away as Weatherbird and Cheipar struggled not to laugh. A few moments later, old Starjumper caught up with them, and he calmly padded alongside his elf-friend.
“Why doesn’t Cheipar ever talk?” Cricket asked.
“He does talk. Just... not very often, that’s all. He picks his moment.”
“Is it true he was really loud as a cub?”
“He was even louder than you.”
“I’m not loud!” Cricket bellowed. “So what happened?”
“He grew up.” Skywise eyed his little brother warily. “You should try it.”
“Were you this mean to Yun and Quicksilver?”
“They were girl-cubs. They were easier.”
“You’re a grump. An old growler – nyaah!” Cricket stuck his tongue out.
“Do that again and I’ll pull it out.”
“Nyaah!” Cricket pulled a face again, but this time Skywise caught the tip of his tongue between his thumb and forefinger.
“You’re fast,” Cricket stammered when Skywise released him.
“Faster than you, cub. Faster than you’ll ever be.”
“Liar. I’ll beat you good one day. Just gotta get my legs a little longer, that’s all.”
Skywise laughed now. Cricket at five might be the spitting image of his daughter Quicksilver at the same age, but in spirit he reminded the stargazer of a young Swift, back at the old Father Tree Holt.
Cricket ran around and climbed up on Starjumper’s back. The wolf whined happily and twisted his head around, trying to give the cubling a lick.
“How old is Starjumper?” Cricket asked.
“Thousands and thousands of years,” Skywise replied. “As old as Timmorn Yellow-Eyes, our first chief.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Starjumper was Timmorn’s litter-mate, born of the joining of Timmain and her very first wolf-mate.”
“I can’t believe the High One was ever a wolf.”
“She was. A lot longer than she’s been an elf.”
Cricket frowned now. “But Timmorn was half-elf, half-wolf.”
“So is Starjumper. But Timmorn was half-wolf and half-elf in body. Starjumper is all wolf in body.”
“So can he change into an elf?”
“Nope.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yep.”
“Why? Have you tried?”
Skywise laughed. “He... he’s all wolf in that head of his. And he has no idea he’s so old.”
“But if he’s half-wolf... isn’t he mortal?”
“Probably. But he’s not just half-elf – he’s half-Firstcomer. I think that means he has a very, very, very long life ahead of him... if he’s mortal at all.”
Cricket was lost in thought a moment. “So... doesn’t that mean that Timmorn could still be alive... somewhere?”
Skywise considered it. “I... well... hmm... huh. Well, I’ll be a zwoot’s ass.”
“Sure!” Cricket chirped happily.
“Lots of deadfalls this way,” Venka said. “Be careful.”
She and Zhantee picked their way through the detritus on the forest floor. Old branches, piles of leaves, and clumps of rotted wood littered the muddy ground. One of the smaller trees that clustered around the buttress roots of the banyans was snapped at the stump. “Look at this,” Venka said. She indicated the swarm of little black insects inside the broken stump. “Wood biters. They’re early this year.”
“Probably colonised one of the larger trees. Moved into this little one when the flood pulled back.”
“We’re due for an infestation, aren’t we?”
Zhantee shrugged. “Two heavy wet seasons in a row. Makes the wood nice and mouldy... makes ripe breeding grounds. If I was a wood biter, I’d want to start my family right about now.”
Venka smiled softly. “You always think of families, sweet lifemate.”
Zhantee blushed slightly. “I don’t know... maybe Shale and Eyes High’s Recognition... Cricket... makes me think about that sort of thing.”
“You know... Rain is always eager to practice his healing skills.”
Zhantee smiled and shook his head. “You know it’s not the same... forcing Recognition.”
“We don’t have to force it in one shot... not the way Redlance and Nightfall did. You know Rain’s had great success with... fostering Recognition in stages. That’s how he and Moonsbreath managed to Recognize twice after Pike was born. One-Eye and Clearbrook had Scouter that way. Rain and Rainsong sparked something in Teir and Ember to increase their chances.” Zhantee looked away bashfully, and Venka walked up to him. She took his hands in hers and gazed into his eyes. “Lifemate... you know I will follow your lead. If you want to try something... to help our chances, then I am with you. But if you want to wait... and hope for true Recognition, without warning, then I am content to wait.”
Zhantee touched his forehead to hers. **You’re too good to me, Neith,** he sent. **I... I don’t know why... it’s not like I think Spar was born outside of Recognition, or Pike, or the others – it’s not that I want our child born a certain way. But... I can’t help but think... maybe... true Recognition, that–** he laughed, “that bolt of skyfire... it’s something so... so different from Recognition with a healer’s aid. And I want to know what that’s like... so badly, Venka. The same thing my parents know, the same thing your parents know, the same thing your brother knows.”
“My brother. You were jealous, I think, when he and Quicksilver had Weatherbird.”
“A little,” Zhantee blushed.
“There’s no shame in that,” she brushed her lips against his. “So was I... a little. Oh, Zhantee, I do want a cub with you. But I, too, can wait for that bolt of skyfire.”
Zhantee grinned and wrapped his arms about her. “My love,” he whispered against her hair. Venka tilted her head to give him a quick kiss on the lips.
“Come. It’s a wood biter family that needs checking up on. If they’re gotten into the roots of these bigger trees, we need to know.”
Venka led the way, while Zhantee cheerfully fell into step behind her. “Augh,” he wrinkled his nose as he stepped in a mud puddle.
“Ohhh...” Venka said. “Zhantee! Come look at this.”
Zhantee pulled his sandal out of the muck and hurried to catch up with his lifemate. Venka was standing at the base of a huge nut tree, once tall and proud, now listing at a sharp angle. “The wood biters were here, all right. Come look at these roots. Between the biters and the flood there is little solid wood left to hold it up.”
“Be careful,” Zhantee called.
“This tree won’t last long,” Venka glanced up at a particularly large branch that curved overhead. She slowly paced around the tree, taking note of the mold and decay. “It’s on a game trail... we shouldn’t wait for it to fall on its own. Not when Dart and the hunters will be setting out on the forest floor again. We should call Father. He can blast this tree over and save us all the worry.”
“Be careful,” Zhantee repeated.
Venka took care not to step under the tree’s overhanging shadow. She rapped her knuckles on the wood, then peeled back a large strip of bark to reveal countless holes dug by tunnelling insects. She touched the wood, and it crumbled under her touch. The tree creaked and groaned.
“We don’t need Rayek, just a strong wind,” Zhantee quipped.
Subtle cracks were now running up the length of the tree, but Venka was too busy inspecting the evidence of wood biter egg sacks to notice. “I think they made their nest here,” she murmured.
Suddenly a deep fissure worked its way up the tree trunk. The tree did not fall over to the left, as it had been listing, but instead began to cave in on itself. Venka looked up as a large branch high above her head snapped off from the weakened trunk.
“Venka!” Zhantee cried. Venka ducked, shielding the back of her neck instinctively. Zhantee cast a shield over her, and the branch bounced off the top of the invisible bubble harmlessly.
The falling branch was only the beginning. Its collapse set off a chain reaction; as Venka looked up in horror the entire tree crumbled, raining rubble down both elves. Venka screamed as countless chunks of rotted wood and gnarled bark bounced off the shield. The bubble shrunk around her, flattening her to the ground. Now branches and sheaves of bark were piling up around her, entombing her inside the shield.
**Zhantee!** she cried.
Then slowly the rubble began to settle. Venka looked up. She lay on her side, sealed inside near total darkness. Slowly she shifted position to better bear the weight of the branches. **Zhantee... let go... I can manage...**
The shield stayed in place at first. Slowly... bit by bit, it withdrew, and Venka winched under the weight of the debris. She cried out, bracing herself as she shoved against the wood. By sheer fortune, most of the heavier branches had bounced away, leaving her with rotten wood and bark to push away. The jagged edges scratched her shoulders and knees, but she pushed through the pain, teeth clenched. At length she spotted sunlight. The last of wood fell back, and Venka saw a way out of her tomb. “Zhantee?” she called as she dragged herself free of the rubble. “Lifemate?”
The tree had shattered as if exploded from within. A splintered spike was all that remained. The bulk of the tree had indeed fallen to the left as anticipated, but it had scattered enough debris on all sides of the rotten trunk. Zhantee was surely confined within his own bubble somewhere nearby, under a layer of detritus.
She turned and she saw a hand weakly reaching out from under a cluster of debris.
Only then did she realize. He had not shielded himself.
**Sunstream!** she cried. **Rain! Zhantee is hurt! Hurry. We’re at the leaning tree near the prongbuck game trail.** She raced to Zhantee’s side and started lifting the rubble away. “Zhantee? Can you hear me?”
**Neith... are you all right?**
She could feel his pain now, and she winced. **I’m safe. You... you sweet little fool, why didn’t you shield yourself?** She pushed away a large branch, grimacing with effort. A shoulder emerged, then a face. Zhantee was bruised and bleeding, too weak even to muster a faint smile.
“Ohhh... why... you’re all broken,” Venka stammered, trying to lighten to mood. She smiled even as the tears welled in her eyes. “Why didn’t you shield yourself?”
**Wanted... to protect you,** he sent. **Didn’t... know if I could... shield us both at once.**
“Don’t you worry,” she said she finished freeing his shoulders. The bulk of the debris was still on his chest, and she feared to move him without a healer at her side. “Don’t you worry,” she repeated. “Rain is coming. He’s coming, just hold fast, my shield.”
Zhantee was struggling for breath, his breaths rasping, like autumn leaves crunching underfoot. **Venka...**
“Shh, shh, don't move, lifemate, just hold fast.”
**Share with me...**
**Share?**
**Recognition... what do you think... it would have been like...?**
“Don’t talk like that,” Venka said, and her tears spilled down her cheeks. “We’ll have plenty of time to find out for ourselves.”
**Please...** his sending was becoming faint, the way it did whenever he fell asleep.
Venka struggled to think clearly. “All right... all right, Zhantee. Just... just look at me, lovemate. Keep looking at me. Don’t close your eyes, don’t go to sleep.”
Zhantee’s eyelids fluttered, and he struggled to focus on Venka’s face. The huntress sniffed wiped at her tears before readjusting her arms tight about his shoulders. **I imagine it would happen... oh, but it would always happen when we least expect it. A day... like any other, or a moment of great importance... a night of thunder and skyfire, or a mild afternoon – it – it wouldn’t matter! Because once it happened... nothing – nothing would ever be the same – Zhantee, are you listening?**
Zhantee’s breathing grew more ragged. Venka sent a desperate locksending to Sunstream. **Hurry, please. Zhantee is fading.**
“I... unh,” Zhantee tried to speak, but Venka shushed him. **Recognition. Listen to me. Are you listening? Recognition. Our Recognition.**
**Yes...** Zhantee’s sending was dreamy, distant.
**And... well... it would be something... incredible. Because – because we both thought we would be prepared, because we already known each other’s souls, because you know Neith and I know Zhantee, but... but in that moment... it would be so different, so much... more! Because Neith would suddenly be so much more! And so would Zhantee! And... we would suddenly have new souls to discover, new facets, new wonders...** The tears were flowing freely now, and she shivered as she tried to smile, tried to keep Zhantee’s eyes fixed on her. **And though we thought we were truly one before... we never realized the depths to ourselves, the depths to be found within each other! And then... then soul and flesh are truly one... beyond all telling, beyond all dreams....** She had not the words to go on, and she poured raw emotion instead, her deep love for him, and her intense yearning for a dream she barely understood. A longing so passionate it frightened her at times. A broken half that never realized she was less than whole until now.
**Yes...** Zhantee sent. **We are whole... in Recognition...**
**And there would be a child!** Venka added hastily, before Zhantee could drift into the lassitude of dreams. **A daughter – a daughter I am certain! One with your brown hair and twinkling eyes...**
**No... no, one with your hair... your skin... your unfathomable eyes...**
**Not so unfathomable!** she laughed weakly. She was sobbing now, almost uncontrollably. **No... a daughter with your face. All... sweetness and light... but with a glint in her eyes... this mischief none would suspect...**
As she sent to him, disjointed images slowly pooled together. A little girl, plump and smiling, with bouncing brown hair that glinted with highlights of red in the sunlight, holding Zhantee’s hand tightly as they strode out of the Palace together. **See?** Venka sent. **Can you see her? Our little girl?**
**No...** Zhantee sent back. A new image appeared in their combined vision. Venka stepping out of the Palace with a little girl in tow, a beautiful child with golden owl-eyes and long coal-black hair.
The two images hovered together, just out of reach...
Then began to blur together... fading and reforming like a vision in the Scroll of Colors...
A plump little child, with rich brown skin and Venka’s black hair, but Zhantee’s heart-shaped face and twinkling eyes...
Venka and Zhantee standing together, holding the giggling child in their arms...
Two sending stars blurring together, fading for a moment, then burning brighter than ever...
**We are whole. We are complete...**
Their eyes met again, and locked. Venka shuddered. So did Zhantee.
**Oh, Neith, what a sharing...** His head sagged back against her arm. He sighed, and his gaze began to drift away. “Yes...”
**No!** Venka begged. **Stay with me...**
**I am there... complete...**
**No! This is no dream! This is real! You can’t go. Stay here! Stay with me!**
**We are one soul...** his eyes drifted closed.
**No, Zhantee! You can’t leave me like this. You can’t leave her! You can’t leave our daughter! She’s waiting for us! She’s within reach! You can’t go now! Not now, now that it’s finally happened! Curse you, stay with me! Zhantee! Zhantee!**
**Neith...** his sending slipped away. Venka crumpled over him, weeping, barely feeling the hand that now touched her shoulder.
“Zhantee...? Zhantee...?”
**N-Neith?** Zhantee slowly opened his eyes. He was lying on a bed of soft linens and furs. Rain, Swift, Sunstream and Venka were clustered around him, Rain lifting his hands from Zhantee’s forehead, Venka holding her lifemate’s hand.
“You gave us quite a scare,” Swift said.
Zhantee blinked. “What... what happened? Lifemate?” he looked to Venka for guidance.
“You fell unconscious just as Sunstream and Rain reached us.” Tears sparkled in her eyes. “But you’re safe now.”
“You have a fighter’s heart,” Rain said gently. “That branch should have crushed you long before we arrived. It’s been a while since I’ve seen an elf fight off death with the strength you showed.”
“But something kept you in your skin,” Sunstream said, and he glanced at his sister with an oddly sly smile. “I wonder...”
Venka gave him a subtle elbow to the ribs.
**Neith?** Zhantee sent. **Was it... all a dream?** But even as he asked her, he knew it wasn’t. The thunder still pounded in his veins. Venka’s eyes still glowed with the power of countless suns. Did no one else see the golden aura that seemed to surround her, pulsing softly in tune with his own heartbeat?
Zhantee tried to sit up, but Rain gently pushed him back into the bed. “Rest now. You were as badly broken as that tree.”
“But...” Zhantee began. Venka lay down on the bed next to him.
“Shh,” she said. “Rest.” **We have plenty of time now,** she added softly.
By the time little Tass was born, two years later, Venka and Zhantee were known throughout the holts and villages as the only known couple to have forced Recognition through sheer will alone. “Except Rahnee and Zarhan,” Pike added one day, when he was deep in the dreamberries. “I remember Longbranch telling me – those two could Recognize at the drop of a leaf.”
Venka and Zhantee knew better. Their most unusual Recognition could be called many things, but was not “forced.”
Venka sat up in bed, gently rocking the black-haired baby. Tass had cried herself into exhaustion, and now snuggled up against her mother’s breast. The angry red blush was already fading from her rich brown skin.
“Finally,” Swift chuckled. “Are you sure she’s really your cub, Venka?”
Venka flashed her mother a rare grin. “I wasn’t always quiet, was I?”
“No. But you never howled like that either.”
Zhantee slipped an arm around his lifemate as he sat down on the bed. “Well, I don’t blame her. I can’t imagine being born is very pleasant.” He gently touched Tass’s wispy hair, as if afraid the baby might shatter under his fingertips. “Poor little thing, scared and cold and in this loud, loud world instead of safely wrapped up inside her mama...”
“She’s got him on a leash already,” Swift said to Venka. “Watch out, or that cub will be running your pack soon enough.”
Tass murmured softly, and she opened her eyes at last, revealing dark brown orbs that seemed to glow with an inner light. Tass looked around helplessly, then her expression crumpled into a mask of frustration, and she buried her face against Venka’s warm skin.
Swift patted Venka’s shoulder. “Think you can handle your father and brother now, or shall I give you two a little time together first?”
“If Father and Sunstream don’t mind,” Venka sighed wearily. “I could use a moment or two...”
“Then I’ll keep them off your back,” Swift winked. She slipped out of the den, letting the curtain fall back over the doorway, sealing out the light of the spring afternoon. Venka sighed and leaned back against Zhantee’s shoulder for support.
The lifemates were silent for a time, and the only sounds in the tree-den were of Tass’s fussing. Finally Zhantee spoke.
“I was wrong before.”
“Hm? Wrong about what, lifemate?”
He bent his head and gave her shoulder a quick kiss. **When we Recognized... and I said we were complete. I thought all the pieces of my life had come together... perfect. But it was nothing compared to this moment.** Venka tilted her head slightly to meet his eyes, and she saw the tears sparkling in them. **Now we are truly complete, the three of us.**
Venka leaned in for a kiss. Just then Tass let out a lusty howl and flailed her little fists, striking Venka’s collarbone.
**And the three of us will never know sleep again,** Venka added wryly.
Elfquest copyright 2014 Warp Graphics, Inc. Elfquest, its logos, characters, situations, all related indicia, and their distinctive likenesses are trademarks of Warp Graphics, Inc. All rights reserved. Some dialogue taken from Elfquest comics. All such dialogue copyright 2014 Warp Graphics, Inc. All rights reserved. Alternaverse characters and insanity copyright 2014 Jane Senese and Erin Roberts