A Holiday Tale
A Chronicle for Changeling: The Dreaming
Chapter 1, Turn 9 Summary

Just before the trio rings the doorbell, Rajabal clacks, "I shall return, but now I go to seek knowledge of the beasts which attacked you." He flies off.

Chris answers the doorbell. While waiting she's removed her makeup, again, and is dressed in a white t-shirt tucked into snug-fitting faded jeans and running shoes. Recognizing at least two of them, lets them in with a sardonic smile.

When the three enter the house, Keighvyn says hello to each one in turn, his gaze lingering on the eshu. "You okay, Jubair?" His finely-arched brows draw together as he looks at his recently-injured companion.

Jubair shows no signs that his wounds even existed. He is perfectly healthy. "I'm fine now, as you can probably tell," he replies with a smile.

Kelia peeks at her watch and asks, "Uhm, are you guys hungry? I can order some pizza."

Jubair looks at the others. "If you guys are hungry, I'll go along with you."

"I was going to have it delivered," Chris replies. "I'm not even sure where a pizza place with seating is around here."

"Pizza sounds fine to me, long as it doesn't have pineapple," Tess says, with a shudder.

Chris confirms, "Okay, no anchovies, no pineapple, got it." she picks up a cordless phone and dials, apparently knowing the number by heart. After a brief phone conversation, she returns to the den.

Noting that there are more people than chairs, Chris winces. "If some of y'all want to get chairs out of the kitchen, I think there's enough room for everyone to sit. Assuming y'all like each other pretty well," she adds with a wry smile.

Chris refreshes her coffee and offers the newcomers something to drink. She looks over at Tess and says with a somewhat skeptical air, "So tell me more about this not-strictly-speaking evil and this prophecy you're so concerned about. Did," she adds with slight, wry smile as she looks around at the others, "y'all each receive such... attention yourselves, when this happened to you?" She has an obvious drawl. Her car has Texas plates, and it's clear from her speech that she is in fact from Texas and not just using the address for the sake of politics. The accent is not overpowering and quite, well, charming.

"To some degree, yes. I was lucky because I had my family to help me through it. Mind you, mine was fairly abrupt so I needed all the help I could get. It's a big deal getting new changelings into the community. The world isn't exactly a dream-friendly place, is it?" Jubair says.

"I had nearly the same experience as you are actually Chris," Tess adds. "At college, away from home. Even if I had been at home, I doubt Dad would have been much help. He's normal as far I can tell. Mom's dead so I don't really know if she was. So basically, I started freaking out, and a bunch of strange looking people showed up and helped me through it." With a broad, homely grin, Tess continues, "Course, you got it easy compared to me. At least you didn't turn into a bright blue, devil horned giant. Fortunately, the Countess has a soft spot for trolls, so she got me a job working at the Institute, helping others, and letting the younger folks live like they should, instead of on the run from hunters."

Keighvyn flashes a grin at Tess. "Wow. All that happened to me was I had a raven come calling at my window the night after my fifteenth birthday. I followed it down to the yard, and found my Uncle Ciaran there, in full knightly regalia. He took my hand, and everything came back. When my head stopped spinning, I looked like this."

Brighteyes says, "But by far, most changelings, especially commoner changelings, go through Chrysalis with their family supporting them. It tends to follow family lines, and our families are special, even if they are not kithain they are kinain, humans with faerie blood who can interact with our world. But the sidhe are very recent arrivals, and you do not arrive within families."

Keighvyn's ears perk up at this. "Hey, some of us /do/," he interjects. "Not all the sidhe are recent arrivals -- just ask me, or Sir Gwalchamai." He flips a forelock out of his eyes and continues. "House Scathach stayed here on Earth, and we tend to be born among kinain families, just like the commoners."

"As you can see, it all comes out slightly differently. Some of us have a harder time than others, but what is really important is that we always have each other to fall back upon. We are going to go through some rough times here pretty soon. Apparently you've been connected to a prophecy, and it doesn't sound to pleasant. We," Tess says, indicating everyone at the table, "want you to know you can always count on us for help."

"As for the prophecy, well that was initially found by me - I headed out from Australia just to tell these guys, it was that vital." Jubair closes his eyes and recites:
"'When the Dark comes rising, Four Lights Hold it Back
Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall, Each shall Dark attack'"
"An additional message for the Countess came with the prophecy, 'You must also know that one of the Shining Host will awaken soon within your demesne, and this one must be found and aided, whatever the cost.'" Jubair reopens his eyes. "That's the message. It's prophecy because it was relayed as such and it doesn't lend itself to ease of interpretation," Jubair finishes with a smile.

"Sooo," Chris asks, drawing out the word, "am I this shining host thing? Any idea whatinhell that means?" She included everyone in her gaze.

Sylvana jumps in to respond, "Notafurbmurkin' clue as to what the prophecy means. As for the Shining Host, that's definitely you. The Sidhe, yours and Keighvyn's kith, are sometimes called "The Shining Host" 'cuz yer grubbin' gorgeous. You've seen yourself in the mirror. You must've noticed that yer better lookin' than you were before." Sylvana brushes a random loose strand of white hair from her face, and pushes up the sleeves on her OSU sweatshirt. She looks over at Keighvyn, winks and smiles as smoothly as she can manage, which comes off looking somewhat cartoon-like, as her grin tends to split her face in two.

"Well, yeah," Chris agrees, "I did notice that. And the Spock ears." Her eyes flicker briefly to Keighvyn, a slight grin on her lips. "But hell, I guess if I'm goin' nuts, I may's well look good doin' it." Her smile fades. "But since I'm not going crazy. You," she says, staring straight at Sylvana, "look like Dr. Schmidt did, except not male and not really, really old. And you don't give me the creeps," Kelia adds with a hint of amusement in her eyes.

"What I don't get," Kelia continues, "Is why I got such a feeling of evil from Schmidt." She grimaces. "I hate using that word, 'evil;' it's melodramatic and carries some ridiculous implications. But regardless, f'god's sake, the man's a scientist. Hell, he's published in those journals on my coffee table. I'm good, but I've never had a paper published. I mean, not a scholarly work," she amends.

Keighvyn's brows draw together as he turns things over in his mind. "Well, just to throw out some ideas...there are four directions, and, at least in the West, four elements. And my Uncle Ciaran told me that there were four kingdoms in Ireland --- well, with Tara in the middle, that makes five, but still --- and Ireland is supposed to be the ancestral home of the fae, or at least of the sidhe, I think."

"I don't mean to seem dense," Kelia says with a dubious frown, "but just what is 'the dark'? Terms like that just make me suspicious. 'It's not us, so it's bad,' crap like that." Kelia furrows her brows, a condition in danger of becoming permanent, at the discussion of Irish myth. "Beats hell outta me," she confesses.

Keighvyn frowns. "Well, the prophecy talks about 'The Shining Host.' Maybe it's a sort of light-versus-dark thing?" He taps a finger against his bottom lip, seemingly lost in thought, then shrugs. "Don't mind me; I've read /far/ too many fantasy novels, I guess." He grins self-consciously.

Chris smiles and shrugs eloquently. "I wonder if any of those novels were based on something other than imagination." She frowns and mutters, "Hmm, I'm gonna need to re-think my entire plotline... Dammit. This is gonna play hell with my deadline." She sighs and makes a small, dismissive wave with her hand. "So I suppose," Kelia asks, "that light is 'good' and dark is 'evil'?" She seems almost irritated by the whole good vs. evil thing.

The doorbell rings and Chris grabs her briefcase, producing a checkbook-sized wallet, and heads for the door. She returns with four boxes, which she deposits on the kitchen table. She roots around in the cabinets for a moment before finding a stack of foam plates. Tossing those and a stack of napkins on the table, she says, "Y'all help yourselves. There're drinks in the 'fridge." The refrigerator contains by way of beverages, most of a twelve-pack of Diet Dr. Pepper, one of which Chris snags for herself, an assortment of imported, high-tone beers, most of a bottle of white wine, some winery called 'Llano,' a carton of milk, a Brita pitcher of water and a carton of orange juice. It also contains the usual stuff. A cursory examination suggests that Chris cooks, but not all that much. The pizza selection is cheese, pepperoni, one with 'everything' and one with hamburger and a truly disturbing amount of jalapeno slices. Chris takes a couple of slices of the last and tops it with some red pepper flakes. She stands by the counter over the sink, eating her pizza and sipping her soda while the others get theirs, staring off into space.

Keighvyn retrieves a can of Dr. Pepper for himself and chews meditatively at a slice of pizza. "Wish Uncle Ciaran was here," he says half to himself. "He would have known a lot more about this stuff than I did."

Jubair grabs a slice of pizza and munches on it. "Speaking of uncles," he says between mouthfuls of pizza, "we could always go and see mine. I think he in his office at OSU right now - he might have more of a clue than me about this prophecy. He's a smart guy, is uncle Iain." He finishes off his pizza slice before getting another and turning to Kelia. "Would you be interested? After all, this prophecy does concern you quite a bit, and I'm sure Iain would be able to answer everything you needed to know."

Kelia picks up a stray jalapeno slice from her plate and pops it delicately into her mouth. She chews thoughtfully for a moment, then shrugs. "I don't see why not. What department is he in?"

Jubair thinks for a moment. "Humanities - he specializes in literature and mythology. It gives us something else to do while we wait for seven pm to drag itself around." He finishes off his slice of pizza and gets another one.

Sebastian looks up from a slice of the jalapeño pizza, having been quietly and happily munching this whole time. He swallows a large mouthful and chimes in "Hey, if we're going to look into this, why not look into it at the source? My Uncle is quite possibly the best Dán reader in all of the County of the Buckeyes, and perhaps beyond. You call your Uncle, I'll call mine, and they'll do lunch. We might be able to get some idea of what's happening with this prophecy, and see if we can connect some of the myths. Hell, it might even give us a leg up on what's going on at the court later." Sebastian stops speaking, finishes his beer, and heads towards the phone. However, he gets no answer at his uncle's shop.