The half-breed thought flying was much more exciting than walking, or even riding. Once he got over the fear that he would fall-- either down to the ground all that long way down there, or up in to the endless starry sky above them-- he clung to the pale one's claws and stared out over the landscape as they passed rapidly over it, laughing as the wind tugged at his hair. If he had thought the world looked different from her back as they walked, he couldn't have possibly imagined how fascinating it would look from this high.

Best of all, the shadows couldn't keep up with them, and but for the few who had managed to hide in the shades of the pale one's fur and wings, they had been left behind and couldn't bother him. Even the ones who had stowed away were quiet, as if they, too, were awed by the scenery.

They flew first over a glittering blueness that seemed to constantly be moving. He had dreamed about that once-- it was called an ocean, and it was as deep as the sky and much less predictable. Then they were flying over land, green and rolling, hills and valleys with patches of lights that the half-breed couldn't even imagine the cause for. It was beautiful by starlight, and he almost wished they could go closer to see it even better. The hills rose into mountains, crags that were somehow less forbidding than the ones he had seen his first nights away from Her, if just because he was more confident about strange things. It was into these mountains that they were going, the pale one had tried to convey to him. Why, he couldn't understand, but he hadn't been able to understand the whys of anything since the light and fire had changed his life completely, so that was all right.

The sky was beginning to lighten, making the half-breed edgy and wish they would find a cave to hide in while the sun tread its angry path across the sky, when another cluster of lights, perched high in the mountain range, became visible on the horizon. That, the pale one's shadow whispered, was where they were going. The half-breed wasn't sure whether to be wary or excited. The air smelled strange here, and he wasn't sure he liked it.

As they grew closer, the lights became buildings, caves-above-ground like the one they had stayed in the day before, but made of stone and much, much larger. He stared, fascinated despite the feeling that lay heavily in the air of something being strange and wrong. It was growing lighter, harder to see, but he squinted down anyway. The red one veered, angling downwards towards an open space at the edge of the buildings where several more creatures much like her and the pale one were already gathering. The pale one, with the half-breed clutched carefully in her massive hands, followed, and he felt the wind rush by them as they quickly began their descent. He was so busy staring at the yellow versions of the pale one that he forgot to be afraid as her wings snapped open, jerking him back as they stopped suddenly, and hind feet hit the ground hard, jostling him again. The red one had to make a running landing, and the yellow ones all laughed.

The half-breed was amazed by the new creatures, so different from the red one and pale one he knew, but still so similar. He recognized, now, that they were what had caused the strangeness in the air. He could feel them, when there was so many of them-- like he could feel the red one and pale one, only much, much more strongly. It made his skin crawl with nervousness and distaste, but at the same time drew him, so that he felt torn, wanting to do conflicting things at once: run away and hide until the pale one had finished whatever it was she had come here to do, or run forward and examine them all up close, try to talk to them and see if maybe they would understand when the two he belonged to now did not. He wanted to find out whether they all smelled different or if they all had the same scent, what their voices sounded like, if they bled the same red he did, but at the same time he wanted to drive them away from him with claws and snarls and wrap himself in his shadows again. He huddled in the pale one's grip, rigid and with muscles jumping uncontrollably in his face and shoulders, frozen with indecision.

Her voice murmured to him then, and she set him down gently. The red one's voice was less gentle; it held a note of warning. What she was warning him against, he didn't know, but he was still stiff and ready to snarl or smile or just stand there and stare. He didn't realize the pale one had stepped back until he suddenly couldn't feel her behind him, and he was surrounded by the yellow ones-- mostly small ones, their shoulders not topping his own, but with two nearly as tall as the pale one herself peering over the wings of the rest. They babbled to each other and to him, but he could not make out the words, and their shadows were shouting, all trying to make themselves heard. He drew his own shadows around him like a blanket, trying to hide, but it only made them draw closer, invading him, filling him with empty places and caverns that they tried to shine their curious lights into.

Terrified, angry, and feeling something he only barely could name, shame, he felt his face and neck growing hot under their stares and the pressure of their presences. He hissed under his breath, telling them all to go away, to leave him alone, to find someone else to stare at, but it only made them draw back briefly before they clambered in closer, chattering excitedly. Finally, when one of the smallest actually a laid furry, armored hand on his leg, he sucked the shadows inside him and roared.

After, he never quite remembered what happened, but he had the impression of being surrounded by shrieks, running feet, spells and darkness and light, and then darkness again, which he fell into gratefully. Of himself, he remembered only speed, fury, and fear. He came back to himself sometime later with the shadows no longer inside him, but instead wrapped around him like a shield, whispering comforts and assurances. He was in a dark room, on a pallet much like the one he had slept on in his cell between visits to Her. He could almost feel at home here-- except the air was still different, smelling and feeling like the things who were not like Her, the things who-- who had taken him from Her. Who he didn't know whether to hate or love.

A door opened, flooding the room with light. Too tired to do much more than twitch away, he wriggled into shadows and hissed wordlessly at the intruder. Equally wordless reproach stilled him; the pale one came in, eyes full of fear and apology. The half-breed glared sullenly at her. All of this, it was her fault, she had left him alone in the middle of that flock of yellow ones. She came in further, tried to speak to him, but he didn't even try to listen, fixing his eyes furiously on the floor and scowling. She sent ribbons of violet sorry and sapphire sorrow into his mind, but he forced them back out again, swiping at her and missing as she rocked back in surprise. She even touched him, stroking his cheeks and smoothing his hair, but he jerked away and leaned into the cool stone of the wall.

"I don't want to talk to you," he muttered. "I want you to go away."

The pale one seemed to understand, and withdrew, a chorus of insults and threats from the shadows trailing after her.

He's ours, pretty bitch!

Keep your filthy thoughts out of him!

Keep your filthy paws off of him!

Next time I get in him, we're going to tear out your throat!

And then fuck you once you're dead!

Get out, get out before I really get angry!

Are you scaaaaaaared? Huh, girlie? Scaaaared of us?

You should be!

Oh, just shut up....

The door closed, again plunging the room into darkness, and the half-breed suddenly felt very alone. There was not even Her to come to him; he had just chased away the only one who had wanted to be with him.

We want to be with you, little love.

No you don't, you're just are here because you always are.

We love you, you know that.

We all love you.

You're ours, we're yours, and we love you.

We're the only ones that love you.

I know... I know.

He curled up on the pallet again, squeezing his eyes shut against the burning that meant he would cry. They had all seen him cry before, but for some reason, he didn't want them to, now. He swallowed the lump in his throat brutally, rubbing hard at his eyes to make them stop stinging. His breath came out in a ragged sigh, and he sagged into the flat pallet with a shudder.

It seemed like only a breath had passed, then, when the door again swung open, making a loud, wooden smack against the wall, and a stranger strode in. The half-breed jerked back from the light, blinded, squinting at this new terror approaching him without a hint of fear. "Who are you?" he demanded, "What do you want?"

I am Aedelian Landwerlen, his shadow said clearly as the tall stranger dropped to kneel beside him, catching his temples between his hands with a grip the half-breed could not escape, And I want to give you something.