milliways_bar | (no subject)

*A moment before soft fur brushes against Chanterelle's ankle, Yrael speaks.*

Whenever you are ready. I spoke to Richard; he says he wants to come along.

She puts her book down, looking a little nervous.

*He steps away.* I am going to be in human shape during this. We will have to move quickly during a small space of the venture, and cats are not good when running through even shallow water.

*He shifts to human shape and reassuringly takes her hand.* Richard asked to go with us because he cares about you. This will mean we have to go further than if it had just been you. You and I are safe right outside the door, but Richard would not be, so we must go further until we reach Life in my siblings' world.

She nods and stands up, holding his hand tightly.

*He gently leads her around the couch, towards the door.* I have only met him once, but he was kind to me. Once we meet with Richard, we shall be on our way.

Richard walks in from New Orleans wearing his leather jacket from Loki. He wraps one of Amadeo's jackets around Chanterelle.

"Sorry it took me so long."

Ah, Richard. There you are. *he gestures to himself.* Pardon the altered shape. Catshape would not be very helpful in this venture.

*Yrael smiles.* So, we all ready to go?

He nods.

"I'm ready, but I have one quick question. You said we had to run. Would it be easier for Chanterelle to take her cat-shape and let me carry her?"

He gets Chanterelle zipped into the jacket.

*Yrael nods.* I believe that could help, indeed. It is only a short run, but it must be fast. If you both feel that it would be wise for you to do so, do so.

It's been a while since she took cat-form. She concentrates on the cat-shape, pushing back the urge to become the nightingale, and becomes the small fuzzy brown kitten.

*Yrael reaches down to scritch behind Chanterelle's left ear.* That shall be fine, Chanterelle.

*Then he straightens.* Richard, you will have to hold onto my shoulder during this first part. I doubt if any of your friends or loved ones would thank me if you did not come back.

Richard smiles and scoops her up and gives her a cuddle before tucking her into the front of his jacket and zipping it up. He cradles one arm around her, and puts the other hand on Yrael's shoulder.

"I'm ready when you are. Should I close my eyes for this part?"

Yes. If any living thing should see the stars above the Ninth Precinct, they would be called. And unless you have an unnaturally strong will, you would go.

So. Close your eyes. Let's go. *He reaches over and opens the bar door out into the Ninth Precinct of Death. Grey water laps at the door frame, small waves that stretch to every horizon. The air here is clear and warm. From the waves rise the spirits of the dead, rising to their final rest beyond the stars. And oh, so many stars there are. Every star that has ever existed seems to shine above the Ninth Precinct, filling it with a soft glow. They overlap and cluster, like a cloud of stars that no sun nor moon ever dimmed. But of course, no one sees this but Yrael as he steps out into the shallow waters of the Ninth Precinct. As Richard and Chanterelle follow him out, Yrael shuts the door conscienciously behind them. The door disappears.*

This way. *Yrael, one hand on his shoulder to keep Richard's hand from slipping off, heads in a direction that seems to be no different than any other. After a moment, he pauses, calling aloud words of power to open the Gate. The acrid fumes of Free Magic burn in backs of throats and causes eyes to water, but Yrael seems not to notice. When the unseen gate opens, like a misty portal, Yrael leads them through into the Eighth Precinct.*

Chanterelle keeps her eyes closed, huddled in Richard's jacket. The sound of water filters through the fabric, the words that Yrael speaks sending shivers through her.

This is like no place she's ever been in. Even Amanita's house wasn't this strange.

*They enter the Eighth Precinct, a dark grey space with fires lit in places upon the surface of the grey waters. The sky is dark.*

*Yrael tugs upon Richard's hand.* You can open your eyes now. I would have you keep a watch out. There are creatures here who would like to keep you.

*He glows brightly in the murky light, both a beacon showing where they are and a light warning away any who would harm them. He leads them forward; other than his constantly searching eyes he is completely calm.*

Quickly now.

Richard nods and opens his eyes, and cradles Chanterelle close, whispering soothing things to her. He tries to ignore how odd everything feels here and follows Yrael as quickly as possible.

Keep hold, please. *He leads them through the waters, deeper here, with a more insistent current trying to sweep them back. When they reach the Seventh Gate, a type of waterfall, Yrael once again speaks the words of Power that would open the Gate.*

*Yrael very calmly leads them, keeping ahold of Richard's hand on his shoulder, through the Seventh Precinct (frought with fire), the Sixth (with its deep, cold waters. Yrael's glow intensifies, warning the many Dead here away), the Fifth (a narrow walkway over deep, dark waters), to the Fourth. The Fourth Precinct seems calm by comparison to the others, though the current is deceptive, tugging at ankles. Yrael, calmly maneuvers through the Precinct, avoiding where he knows the curret eddies and tugs the strongest.*

*Yrael is a bright beacon in the murky gloom as they approach the Third Gate.*

Get ready to run. The Third Precinct has few Dead creatures, but there are waves. We must reach the Second Gate before the wave comes.

*The Free Magic fumes are acrid as Yrael sings the words of Power to open the Gate.*

Richard coughs from the fumes but manages to keep ahold of Chanterelle and Yrael, and tries to remember to focus on the ground. He's wet and cold and uncomfortable, but he's suffered worse before and this is all well worth it to heal Chanterelle, even partially.

"I'm ready. I'll run as fast as I can."

*The Gate of mist parts, and Yrael speaks sharply.*

Go.

*He lets Richard go ahead of him, both running flat out, knowing that if the wave comes, Yrael has the better chance of being able to withstand it and keep both Richard and Chanterelle from being washed away. They cross quickly, yet the wave can be heard behind them. As they near the Second Gate, Yrael pulls ahead of Richard, calling aloud the Words of Power for this specific Gate. A strange platform rises from the water ahead of them.*

Get on!

He hops on without question, clutching Chanterelle tightly. If you asked questions before acting in London Below, you were dead. He whispers soothing things to the kitten in his jacket.

"We'll be there soon, love, and we'll get you healed, and it will be all over."

*Yrael leaps onto the still-rising platform, looking over the edge at the wave that breaks against the invisible barrier of the Gate, sending up sprays of water. The platform rises through the grey mists. Soon it can be seen that they are rising through something like a drain: a halted whirlpool. The platform carries them to the edge, where Yrael leads Richard off.*

Brace yourself.

*The platform disappears, and the water runs down again. They are standing a little ways away from the inner rim of a funnel-like whirlpool. It is very dark here, with the water rushing down in a swirling current that pulls against their ankles.*

There are holes here. We must go carefully. Always check before putting your foot down.

*Yrael leads them in a winding path only he can see, it seems, where there are fewer holes. Dark shapes move in the misty indistinctness beyond the range of sight aided by Yrael's glow.*

He follows Yrael as best he can, stumbling a little, but not falling over. He tries to ignore everything that isn't Yrael, Chanterelle, or moving forward. He'll deal with things if he has to, but he won't think about them now.

"Are we nearly there?"

*Yrael's green eyes gaze into the shadows, narrowed slightly.*

Nearly.

*They move slowly, carefully, but they eventually reach the outer rim of the Second Precinct. Yrael speaks the Words of Power, and they cross into the First Precinct.*

*The First Precinct is like a vast waterplain, the current swift over their feet.*

Almost there.

*He leads them to the boundary between Life and Death, and pulls them through. They are suddenly standing in a wooded area, sunlight filtering down through the new green leaves, dappling the ground with cool shadow. The sound of a river is audible from somewhere to the left. Yrael smiles to himself.*

Here.

Richard smiles and sighs in relief. He looks around and unzips his jacket to let the kitten peak out.

"Is it safe to put her down now?"

Yes.

*Yrael peers into the woods around them, thinking.*

Somewhere across from Qyrre, I would guess, is where we came out. North of Roble's Town and the Abhorsen's House. This will be an adequate place for this type of work, I guess.

He sets Chanterelle gently on the ground.

"Is there anything I can do to help, or should I back away?"

If you would keep watch, I would appreciate it. My focus will not be upon our surroundings, and it would not be wise not to have someone on guard. Alert me if anything happens that would need attention.

*He sits down upon the new green grass and scritches Chanterelle lightly behind the ears.*

It would probably be best if you were to be in human shape, Chanterelle, if you are ready to start.

She focuses on her human form and changes shape, slightly wide-eyed and breathing a little fast from the journey through Death.

*Yrael smiles at her, then quickly shifts down to his white cat-shape. He gently pads over to Chanterelle and climbs into her lap, purring comfortingly. He shakes his head once, quickly, and is suddenly wearing a bright red collar. A Charter Mage would know that the Marks flowing on, across, and through this collar are not those of binding, but of connection. Kibeth has one like it, but wears hers all the time. She chose the connection to the Charter, after all; Yrael did not. Yrael settles with his head on her knee.*

Chanterelle, I will need you to keep on hand on my back during this. It will keep you here. The other hand is to be placed against the collar around my neck. It will let us do what we need to do. Place your right hand on my back first, then put your left-hand fingers upon my neck and find my collar. Keep hold of it until you know our work is done. You will know.

Richard drops a kiss into Chanterelle's hair and helps to place her hands.

"It's no trouble, dolly. I'm glad to be here."

She nods and with Richard's help places her hands correctly, burying her right fingers in Yrael's fur and twining her left fingers around the collar.

*As Chanterelle's fingers grasp the collar around Yrael's neck, she finds herself falling into the Charter. It is dark for as far as she can see; for, in fact, she can see. The Charter is not seen with the eyes. Charter Marks, runic symbols, flash silver in the darkness. Million upon millions of them, in patterns too quick to focus on. Chanterelle can feel that these Charter Marks, these patterns are her. The Marks, though alien in their substance, are as familiar as the pattern of raised dots that make the language of Braille. She can sense that there is another Pattern close by, a different pattern: Yrael. He is there in the Charter with her, projecting a sense of reassurance that tells her not to be afraid. Dimly, Chanterelle's senses can still feel Yrael's soft fur under her right hand, still hear the distant birdsong of the forest around them.*

Relax, Chanterelle. I shall begin.

*To all outside eyes, there is just a girl sitting there with a cat on her lap, both with eyes closed.*

She gasps lightly at the sight of the Charter, unused to seeing anything in this shape and certainly not used to seeing this. She's not afraid, not really; while it's a pattern she's not used to, it's one that feels familiar, welcoming as a mother's embrace.

It's beautiful, Yrael.

She relaxes, letting him do what he needs to do. With Yrael there, with Richard standing watch, she's not afraid.

It is you, Chanterelle.

*There is a sense of searching, of seeking something out, for a moment.*

*Then, smoothly, the Other pattern begins to move in, flowing between the patterns that make up Chanterelle. Yrael, using patterns of his own eyes as a guide, finds the Charter Mark patterns in Chanterelle that define and bind her injury to her eyes. Deftly, Yrael begins rearranging the Patterns. Each group of the Pattern he halts from its whirl through the Charter pauses. Some he merely rearranges the Marks; some he removes Marks from and then adds other Charter Marks to fill the holes in the Pattern. This is all done relatively rapidly, but what is Time in the Charter? With each piece of the patterns that is restored to Yrael's satisfaction, he lets it go and sets it back into the larger pattern that makes up Chanterelle.*

*He is working from the inside out, healing her retinas, first. They are the most complicated.*

She watches the process, fascinated. It feels strange, an odd tingling sensation in her eyes, not painful or particularly unpleasant, just odd.

Richard tries to focus on their surroundings to make sure that no-one interrupts or interferes, but his gaze keeps turning back to Chanterelle and Yrael and he's very curious about what's going on. Will she look or feel different? Will there be no change on this visit? Yrael had said that it would take a few sessions, so it's hard to know.

*Yrael hums quietly as he works, deftly rearranging the Charter Marks of each piece of the Pattern. Eyes are complicated, as any part of any living thing is. Some of the pieces of melody that he hums become Charter Marks themselves, and he moves them into their places accordingly.*

*The work seems to go on forever, until at last there is a pause in the Other pattern. The Charter Mark'd pattern that makes up the Bright Shiner halts its rearranging and remaking, pausing with the air of one surveying one's own work. Then the Other pattern withdraws, the Charter Marks flowing away and out.*

It is done for now, Chanterelle.

She watches him work, fascinated by the way the Charter Marks are rearranged merely by the sound of his humming. She sits patiently, ignoring physical concerns like stiffening muscles, keeping her fingers locked around his collar as he told her to.

When he tells her it's done, she releases a breath that she wasn't even aware she was holding, and loosens her grip on his collar a little.

Now that it comes to it, she's almost afraid to open her eyes.

*The Charter Marks which are Yrael, tinged still with the acrid sense of the Free Magic, slip away. The white cat-that-is-not-a-cat opens its bright green eyes. Chanterelle loosening her grip upon the collar allows Yrael to slip free to the ground. Once clear of her, Yrael shifts once again to his human shape, sitting before her on the ground.*

*He reaches forward to gently touch her cheek. His voice sounds slightly tired.* Chanterelle, you shall still be mostly blind for a time. The inner parts of your eyes are healed; it is just that it must be given time to adjust before the outer parts of your eyes are healed as well, restoring your sight to you. Even if we had the time to continue with the healing, I would not, at the moment. Your eyes must have time to adjust, or this attempt at healing would simply undo itself.

Your eyes will feel odd for some days, as they have not been whole in a long time. When they stop feeling strange, come and find me, and we shall finish.

*He makes to stand, bright in the deepening shadows of dusk.*

Richard startles at the shape-change after such a long moment of stillness, but the smiles warmly at Yrael.

"Thank you so much for your kindness."

He kneels down next to Chanterelle.

"How are you feeling, luv?"

She nods at Yrael's words.

She smiles at Richard.

You are very welcome, Chanterelle.

We should go back. It is almost sunset, and I would rather not be waylaid by the Dead.