Rumi trekked down the walkway from the nearest lift exit to Lant'ien's apartment, the one farthest from any lift exit was possible, where she'd left him the night before, after the... whatever it was. She'd been up most of the night shift, filling out paperwork at the Ministry about the disaster that had become of a simple expedition to show Lant'ien what flying on dragonback was like. She had no idea how everything had turned as sour as it had, and to be honest, she still wasn't entirely certain what all had happened. All she was sure about was that Bausalu wen Delanau, whatever she had been to Lant'ien beyond guardian, was dead, and Lant'ien had been prostrate with grief when she'd been forced to leave him the previous afternoon.

The way she thought things had happened, the way she'd detailed them in her report, was thus: Lant'ien had told Brullera to return to the launching deck because someone-- Lant'ien managed to at least say, later, that this was his sister who, according to Bausalu, was the reason he was exiled-- "was there". The instant they'd landed and Lant'ien started to slide to the ground, free of the straps that held him on Brullera's back, that "sister" had apparently arrived-- on the back of a xenodragon queen with a trailing warrior, no less. The xenodragons paid the human(oid)s little attention, at least, immediately engaging Brullera in battle. At that point, though, Rumi was far more focused on what was happening on the launching platform than what was happening in the air.

Even then, things still had gone so quickly that it was hard to understand what was going on. Lant'ien had leapt between Bausalu and the newcomer, and Rumi had immediately pulled her gun, though she didn't know, at the time, just who she was protecting her charge from. Not that a gun had done much good: the girl had only laughed, exchanged a few words in a language Rumi didn't understand with Lant'ien and Bausalu, and then pulled up a ball of something that could only be magic. Rumi had tried to shoot, then, but before she could, she'd been snatched up by Brullera and carried away, out of range of the explosion that ensued-- or, mostly out of range. A blast of, Rumi had to guess, magic rocked Brullera, nearly toppling her from the sky with the force of it, but the dragoness managed to protect her from it with her own body.

Another thing she knew, they all knew, now: just what was "missing" about Lant'ien. Bausalu had told her, but she hadn't really understood, then. After that magical blast, the blast that killed the poor woman and freed his bound "un-magic", she found out exactly what she'd been trying to say. First-hand.

Not exactly first-hand. Brullera took the brunt of it and, thus, managed to protect Rumi from the worst of it. If the knife-edge of bleak despair and lack of care, the desire to just give up that in and of itself was not actually a desire-- because "desire" was too strong a word to call anything that came from that unleashed power-- wasn't the worst of it, Rumi didn't want to know what that "worst" was. She could understand, very well, why Lant'ien would submit to being bound, to escape from feeling that every day, every waking moment and even sleeping moment. Somehow, Brullera managed to stay coherent-- her explanation was that she'd shunted it to one of her two heads, which, apparently, was sentient enough on its own for such a thing to work-- and keep flying, though laboredly. Apparently, though Rumi hadn't seen this, the xenodragons very nearly dashed themselves on the floor of the flight deck because of the same... un-magic.

What had cleared Rumi's head was hearing the argument between Lant'ien and his sister, presumably through the outburst of magic that mingled throughout that whole section of the deck. Brullera finally heeded her orders to turn around-- too late, because the xenodragon queen beat her to the platform, scooping up Lant'ien's sister and promptly speeding away with her. Rumi was more concerned with Lant'ien, who didn't seem to be seeing anything, wrapped up in whatever Bausalu's death had released, and though Brullera gave chase, her heart wasn't in it.

It had taken lots of shaking and calling to get Lant'ien to snap out of it, and even then it was just to collapse into tears into her arms, as if his guardian's death had only just then sunk in, and he'd lost the only thing he cared about in the world. By then security had arrived, and though Brullera made their initial report for them, it was still distracting to be holding an oddly silently sobbing young man while officers scampered around them. It was even more distracting when Jingoa, who had been on the opposite side of the station and only just arrived not long after security since he had to run the whole way, showed up to demand reassurance and attention. But Rumi was all the boy had, so there she stood, uncomfortable and still in the middle of the busy scene, with a xenodragon's white chin resting on her shoulder and a pale-haired youth with his face buried in her chest, shoulders shaking yet crying without making a sound.

It had been hard to leave him in his room that afternoon, especially when, once he realized she was leaving him-- and it took him a moment-- he'd pleaded with her to not leave him alone. She'd leave Jingoa with him, hoping that would suffice as "not alone", though the xenodragon had found his way back to her sometime in the middle of the night, like he usually did. Now he stalked along behind her as she approached Lant'ien's apartment-- Brullera, though she'd badly wanted to come, was working with the Ministry to provide mental images for all the telepaths and security dragons in the force of the offenders-- and he waited with her when she pressed on the button for the door-buzzer. You'd think that with all the technology available, they'd have synthesized a better sound for themselves, when someone's at the door, she thought absently; her own was the sound of an old-fashioned clock chiming.

No one answered, so she pressed the buzzer again, frowning. Jingoa pawed at the door with a gurgled whine, his ice-sharp mind-voice prickly with concern. At the continued lack of response, Rumi quickly punched in her security over-ride code; as his personal guard, now with even more reason than his vaguely outlined concerns before, she had that authority.

The door slid open, and Jingoa leaped through even before Rumi, gun in hand and with visions of that girl back to torment her brother more, after all she'd already done to make his life miserable, according to what little Lant'ien had managed to impart. She saw no girl in the first room, but Jingoa was already halfway down the hall, scrambling in the cramped quarters, and aiming for Lant'ien's room. Rumi raced after him, gun at the ready, despite the ominous silence. There were no threats, no pleadings, and no blast of magic, but something wasn't right. Jingoa, in the bedroom ahead of her, gave an unintelligible squeal and hurriedly sidled out of the way when she came charging in-- and stopped short as an unexpected and unwelcome smell hit her: blood.

When her eyes caught up with her nose, she dropped her gun in shock. When her brain caught up with her eyes, she broke out of her paralysis and rushed forward, one hand reaching for her radio and spitting out sharp, almost-frantic words almost before she'd tapped it on. "Officer Beotoli! Medical emergency in the Ruvuah apartment, deck five, level six. Crossing twenty-six-- Lion Street-- apartment twenty-six-seven-A. Get a med team down here, immediately!"

Lant'ien lay huddled on the tile floor, in the farthest corner of his room, in a wide puddle of rich, dark blood. He had his arms close to his chest, no shirt on and only light trousers-- she recognized the bottoms to his pajamas-- but even so, she could see the cross-crossing of deep cuts on the flesh of his arms, still slowly seeping blood onto the floor. When she pulled his hands away, far enough from where he'd clutched them close that she could toss the nearest fabric she could find-- a blanket from the bed-- over them in an attempt to staunch the bleeding, he turned his head to face her, just slightly.

"I," he began weakly, and she paused in her flurry of activity to hopefully save his life so she could hear him, "I c-couldn't... be alone..." was all he said.

"I'm not making that mistake again," she told him firmly, cursing herself. She'd never figured him for the suicidal type, even after Bausalu's death... but hadn't Bausalu herself said that he needed to be bound in order to want to live? I should have seen it coming, I should have seen it.... "Don't worry, I'm not leaving you alone again, not even to take a piss," she assured him. Somehow, that brought a weak smile to his face, but then his eyes closed, and he sighed into complete laxity, a faint. Rumi grimly pressed the thick blanket against his forearms, which were, if she could tell beneath the blood, practically raw meet, with how many times he'd cut them.

::Rumi?:: Brullera asked suddenly; she must have felt the intensity of her emotion and only just now escaped from her interrogators to question her.

::Lant'ien,:: she sent back, and her dragon could see what she'd seen, through her. ::We can't leave him alone again.::

::More importantly, we need to find a way to help him,:: Brullera replied seriously, cutting straight through to the very heart of the matter. ::We can't baby-sit him the rest of his life and ours. We don't even know how long his species lives.::

::That's true. But what?::

::Send him home?::

::We don't even know where home is, or why he isn't there, now.::

::Magic?::

::I don't know... we'll have to think about it.::

::Yes....::

Brullera withdrew-- and just in time, because the door outside slid open right then to admit a half-dozen medics. Rumi gratefully relinquished her charge to their ministrations, and was relieved when, after a moment and once he was loaded onto a hovering stretcher, she heard them telling each other he'd be fine. Now she just had to figure out what to do with him, when he woke up. 

She walked slowly towards the lift, Jingoa scampering around beside her anxiously, intending to reach the medical center they'd taken Lant'ien to once they'd gotten the youth settled and stable. One of the advertisement video screens embedded into the wall caught her eye, and she paused. 

Fur and Feathers Frenzy. 

She paused longer, reading, an idea slowly forming up in her head. It might work. Maybe. She'd have to do some research, talk to Brullera, see what Lant'ien had to say... but it might work. 

Maybe. 

Chapter Nine

Back to Lant'ien - Back to Ky'ipa

Back