Crossover With Non-anime Series Fan Fiction / Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ On a Pale Horse ❯ Shroud of Death ( Chapter 6 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Date: January 6, 2007

Disclaimer: As far as Mobile Suit Gundam Wing goes: Bandai has rights. Sunrise has rights. Sotsu Agency has rights. Rally does not have rights; she just likes to play with the characters. It's so much fun. As far as the world of Valdemar and Velgarth go: Mercedes Lackey has rights. DAW books have rights. Rally (again) does not have rights; she just loves dropping confused bishies in and waiting to see how long it'll take them to swim. (Again) it's just so much fun!

A/N: "Italics" is Duo speaking in Standard. "No italics" mean he's speaking Valdemaren. :Colons and Italics: indicate Mindspeech.

On A Pale Horse
-Shroud of Death-

"Why can you speak Standard when everyone else here speaks Valdemaren?" Duo sat in the shade of a leafy tree off to the side of the hospital, his back pressed against Onette's warm side. He was hunched over and meticulously denuding the patch of ground gated off by his crossed legs, one grass blade at a time.

:I don't,: came the Companion's reply. :I'm using Mindspeech. Speaking mind to mind puts the meaning directly in your head. It's your brain that's translating those thoughts into Standard.:

Duo took a moment to mull that statement over and a few more blades of grass came to their untimely deaths. "But then, I'm speaking Standard and you still understand me."

:Wrong again,: Onette said with just a hint of a giggle. :I've got a very strong Gift of Mindspeech and you have very loud thoughts. I'm hearing your words as you think them, not as you say them.:

"Huh? A mind reading horse. Who'd'ave thunk it?" Duo mumbled, dropping his latest victims and brushing off his hands. He stretched his legs out straight and then leaned back to rest his head on the Companion's shoulder.

Duo didn't like the idea of someone poking around in his brain, nosing around in private thoughts, dredging up things he'd long ago buried and forgotten, or revealing things he didn't want revealed to this pristine world. He didn't know what it was that made him think of Valdemar as being unsoiled, maybe it was the wide open expressions of the people he'd met so far, maybe it was the primitive state of technology or maybe it was all just his wild imagination. What he did know was that he didn't want the dark shroud of Shinigami to spoil it and for some unknown reason he knew that his mere presence had begun to sully the crystal clear waters.

:Don't do that.: The words were harsh, but Duo could feel the concern behind them.

"Do what?"

:Whatever it is you're doing that's making you depressed and worried. And angry,: she added as Duo's fists balled up.

He wasn't angry. But... What right did she have to invade his privacy? His mind and heart were his own to divulge or to keep secret. She didn't have the right! She was just some stupid horse—

Okay, so he was angry. He relaxed his hands, redirecting the tension in another direction. :Can't you just read my mind, Horse?: he thought at her harshly.

:Gently.: Onette coaxed unperturbed by her Chosen's attitude. :That was good for a first try at Mindspeech, but don't be so rough. And the answer is yes, I can read your thoughts, but I won't. Not unless you give me permission. Not only is that wrong but I don't intend to hurt you and prying into your thoughts would hurt you.: Her voice was sympathetic, touched by a sliver of sadness. :But I also want you to know that there is nothing that you have done in the past—or will do in the future—that will make me either dislike you or leave you.:

At those reassuring words Duo's anger fled as quickly as it had arrived and he realized that it wasn't Onette that he was mad at; it was himself. Or rather, as irrational as the thought was, he was pissed that he'd allowed the whole situation to happen and that there wasn't a damn thing he could do to remedy it. He was stuck and, worse yet, he knew, somewhere down in the pit of his stomach, that his arrival in this world was merely heralding something far, far more sinister than the sudden inexplicable appearance of a skinny orphan kid. :Don't say that. You don't know what I am.:

:And what are you?: There was nothing accusatory behind the question, only simple curiosity.

"Shinigami." He climbed to his feet. :Death, Onette. I'm Death.: And he walked away.


Simaree trailed in Tehlin's formidable wake, her head slightly dizzy with the man's sheer speed and determination. He led them directly to the door of Alaen's History class. He knocked briskly three times and then entered without waiting to be invited. Simaree anchored herself in the doorway, unsure if she should enter. Herald Rida was the current teacher of the class and she was, to say the least, an imposing woman. The redhead was all hard bulk, nearly as tall as the Dean and she wasn't known for her understanding of people disturbing her class. Her expression was quickly reaching outrage when she caught sight of her intruders and that outrage turned to surprise. "Armsmaster Tehlin?" she managed in a startled gasp before Tehlin interrupted.

"Pardon my intrusion, Rida, but I must steal one of your students." Between the two Heralds there was the slight pause that Simaree had learned was usually a brief bout of Mindspeech and Rida nodded.

"Alaen," she said waving the boy over and Simaree noticed him for the first time. He was slunk down in an isolated corner chair, studying the tops of his boots and when he looked up his eyes were red and swollen. Simaree caught his eye and tried to give him an encouraging smile, but he just looked away, making his silent way up to the front of the classroom.

Rida patted him gently on the shoulder. "Havens child, you're not being summoned to the hangman's noose." The words were harsh, but Rida's tone was consolatory. "Now, don't forget your report on Burning Pines is due tomorrow."

Alaen nodded and without a word, slipped past the older Trainee into the hallway. "What is it?" she asked, stepping out of the doorway. When there was no reply, she reached out a hand to grab his wrist. "Alaen, talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

He turned those puffy, red-rimmed eyes up to hers, slowly shook his head and placed an index finger on his lips. He then pointed to the Armsmaster and spoke a single word. "Wait."


The Dean's office was smaller and yet more elegant than Simaree could have imagined. The room was just big enough to contain a monstrous mahogany desk, two floor-to-ceiling bookcases and five padded chairs. The bookcases were filled to the brim and ran the length of the back and right walls. The left wall held two windows that were currently propped open to catch any and all breezes. Behind that gargantuan desk sat the Dean and off to his right was Armsmaster Tehlin.

That left the two students feeling very small under both the gazes of the high-ranking adults and in the shadow of that huge desk and Simaree had a feeling that the atmosphere was one that was catered to the Collegium's few troublemakers.

"Would you like to tell me about these dreams, Trainee Alaen?" The Dean was far more composed than he probably should have been. Tehlin had called him out of a meeting and demanded that the man join them in his office.

"I'm not sure I should, sir." That was the longest sentence Simaree had heard from the kid in days.

"And why is that, may I ask?"

The trainee gave Simaree a brief glance and then took a slow breath. "Because the last time I told someone, a person got hurt."

"Oh?" Dean Ayden's timbre held volumes of meaning. "And who was that?"

"That person who was found dying in Companion's Field. The one Onette found."

"What makes you think that they're related? You speaking of the dream and him getting hurt?"

Alaen flashed Simaree another quick look before replying. "Well, I just said his name and then the Death Bell rang." The Dean held his tongue this time, prompting Alaen to continue with a hand sign. "He calls himself Shinigami. Shinigami means Death." Alaen shrunk down as far into the chair as his slight frame would allow. "Shinigami lives in the night sky, with the stars and the moon. He is an incarnation of destruction that walks among man. His laughter echoes through the sky as he cuts through villagers and their guardian statues with a single strike of his burning scythe. Wherever Shinigami walks, death is sure to follow."

"Fascinating," mumbled the Dean, scratching something down on a piece of paper before he looked up and caught Alaen's eye. "That, my boy, is the most detail I've gotten out of anyone, yet."

"Huh?" asked the boy.

"Excuse me, Dean," Simaree interrupted, "But what in Blazes are you talking about?"

Dean Ayden gave them both an encouraging smile. "Young Alaen is not the first to come to me about this matter. Several full Heralds have had similar visions and all of them have at least a touch of Foresight. One of those Heralds sits to my right."

"Tehlin?" Simaree asked numbly. At the Dean's nod she turned to the Armsmaster. "Sir, you've had this dream?"

"I have," he admitted with a nod. "But what I Saw was a black figure holding a burning scythe, laughing maniacally at the flames around him."

"Up until now that is all anyone has Seen," provided the Dean in a tone that was much too upbeat for the topic at hand. "And I'm not afraid to admit that I've been rather stumped by what it all meant, but in light of this new information..." He let the statement fade as he jotted down something else, his quill scribbling fiercely across the paper for several lines before he looked back up to the students. "Right then! Follow me."