Rumi never thought she'd see another person on Brullera's back, and yet here she was, helping Lant'ien Ruvuah get strapped in on the double-headed xenodragon's shoulders. She'd never thought anyone would want to ride Brullera, much less that Brullera would let them-- but Lant'ien was actually interested in so little, and Brullera seemed to think fostering his interest was a good thing. Not that she'd come to terms with what about him "wasn't there", even after two weeks of protecting him from nothing, but she didn't dislike him, at least.

::I still don't entirely trust him,:: the dragoness would say now and then, ::but that's not really through any fault of his.::

"All set, then?" Rumi asked the boy as she closed the last buckle over his legs.

"If you say I am," Lant'ien said with very little emotion in his voice. She knew him well enough now to know that he simply spoke as blandly as possible, in fact tried to show as little emotion as possible, period. Two weeks wasn't enough time for her to learn to read the very subtle signals he did give out.

::Nervous and excited,:: Brullera supplied. Being telepathic, Rumi assumed she would know.

"Well, you look set, to me. Brace yourself, she launches strongly."

"Yes, ma'am."

Rumi backed up from the flight deck's launching platform ledge, where Brullera was crouched, to the actual hatch where Bausalu stood. Brullera got smoothly to her feet and wing-paws and bunched her hindquarters in preparation to spring.

"You're sure this is safe?" Bausalu asked one more time, though now was probably too late for a concern.

"Perfectly," Rumi assured her yet again. "I do this just about every day. He'd strapped in tight, and Brullera won't let him fall."

The hydra-xenodragon leapt from the platform, flaring her wings and shooting out into the open air. Bausalu cringed, but Rumi just smirked. "I hope Lant'ien doesn't get motion sickness," she commented lightly as the streak of purple and black turned a loop in the air. "I think Brullera's about to give him a ride he won't forget-- and she'll be offended if he's sick all over her."

"I-- don't know!" Bausalu squeaked, watching with wide, horrified eyes. Rumi couldn't help but laugh, but she patted her shoulder reassuringly.

"Relax, he'll be fine."

"I could never, ever, ever do that," Bausalu said fervently, still watching Brullera closely as the dragoness whirled around the deck, obviously enjoying herself.

::I think the kid's enjoying himself, too,:: Brullera commented. ::As much as he enjoys anything. And he's not getting sick.::

As further reassurance, Rumi passed the information on. "She tells me he's enjoying himself well enough."

"Good for him."

Rumi suspected the Lady Bausalu had a problem with heights. Then again, she guessed a lot of people would, when it was combined with fantastic aereal displays with one's self simply towed along as a helpless passenger. If she wasn't privy to her dragon's joy in flight and absolute certainty that nothing bad would happen to her or her rider, Rumi expected she might feel the same way. As it was, she decided it was time to change the subject.

"Has he ever shown interest in dragons, before?"

"Ah-- what? No, not really. But then, he doesn't go out much to see them, and would never speak with any, even if he did...."

Something about that-- about Lant'ien-- still bothered Rumi. "He seems like a good kid, and like a smart kid. Why is he so quiet?" Or, more appropriately, why was he so strange. Quiet didn't even begin to describe him.

"It's... somewhat complicated," Bausalu hedged, eyes still on Brullera, who was now serenely gliding across the deck. Taking a break, perhaps. Every time Lant'ien's oddity came up, Bausalu ended up avoiding the subject.

"Is it something a bodyguard ought to know?" Rumi asked, taking a different tact than usual. Usually, in fact, she left the subject alone. It hadn't seemed important. However, now that she thought about it, it did seem like something a bodyguard ought to know, especially since it wasn't simply a personality thing, or else it wouldn't be "complicated".

Apparently Bausalu thought so, too. "I suppose, if you're going to be working with us for any longer, you should probably know about his condition..." she said reluctantly, her voice trailing off a little. Rumi waited patiently, watching Brullera take another sudden dive, startling an actual-- if abruptly cut off-- yelp from her passenger. She wasn't really the type to pry, or prod, and though this did seem important, she wasn't about to rush the woman.

As expected, Bausalu continued after a moment of silence, probably organizing her thoughts. "Lant'ien has magic, of a sort," she began. "It isn't like any other kind of magic out there. Other magic is... present, palpable, obvious if you know what to look for. Lant'ien's is empty, invisible-- it is the essence of nothing."

"The essence of nothing," Rumi repeated, a little blankly.

"It's hard to explain. The closest translatable word for it is nothingness, or perhaps un-magic, though we usually don't use that word; it's so clumsy. It's not a particularly common gift-- in fact, the people consider it more of a curse. Most magic drives you mad, eventually, particularly if you don't use it or don't use it well... but his is even worse. He was half-mad from the day it woke in him."

That wasn't like any magic Rumi had ever heard of. "Is that, uh, why he's so odd, then? This nothingness-magic?"

"Well, indirectly...." Bausalu sighed. "He can't reach his magic, now, and so it can't touch him."

"What do you mean?"

Bausalu held up a hand, as if in a helpless gesture. "I am a daughter of wen Delanau: I keep it bound for him. That is what I am trained, even born to do."

Rumi gave the middle-aged woman a hard, somewhat skeptical look. She'd guessed she was of the same people as Lant'ien, given the gray skin and odd ears, but not that they were anything more than casually related. They didn't look a thing alike, other than the vague species-specific traits-- but then, this odd "relationship" wasn't exactly one of blood, was it? "You keep him bound?" she asked. "How, exactly?"

"Magically. In a way. The wen Delanau do not have magic, in and of themselves: we anchor magic, keep it centered and safe within ourselves. It's necessary, for our people, when you never know when the magic will turn someone sour or wild. Everyone with a strong or dangerous gift is paired with a wen Delanau binding agent."

"I've never heard of a mage who would put up with that sort of thing before," Rumi commented warily.

"Some of them don't-- but there isn't much they can do about it." Bausalu shrugged. "Those are usually the ones who need it the most. But Lant'ien asked to be bound, as soon as he knew what was wrong. This is his choice, as much as anyone else's."

"So he's okay with it?" Rumi persisted, not liking the idea of someone being bound up, their magic held prisoner-- of their own free will or not.

"Very okay with it," Bausalu nodded firmly, lips thin. "The poor boy... he never asked for this curse of his. He would have been so much happier just going into a trade, or becoming a scholar... he loves history, you know. --But no, he is forced to live here, in exile, forced to live a half-life just so that he can want to live."

A sore subject, indeed. Rumi skirted it warily. "If this is so common, what's he doing in exile?"

"Well, the un-magic that he has isn't common, at all, and it's hard to contain. But even if it were just that, he could have stayed at home, in seclusion. No, he's here because of his sister."

That subject change was entirely unexpected. "Sister?" Rumi repeated.

"Yes, his sister, Ky'ipa. That's why he asked for--"

A rush of wind made both of them stop and look up. Brullera landed heavily and fell forward onto the paws on her wing joints. On her back, Lant'ien was already scrabbling to undo the straps holding him in. "Lant?" Bausalu asked, worried. "Lant, what's wrong?"

"She's here--"

"What??"

Then the ominous, yet familiar-sounding roar of an incensed xenodragon interrupted them all.

Chapter Seven

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