Disclaimers: BeastMaster characters and concept are property of their creators. No copyright infringement intended. Original characters and story are property of the author.
Spoilers: First season through "The Burning Forest." Rating: PG.
Author's Note: This is what I get for suggesting Chely Wright's "Shut Up and Drive" to Deb for a song-fic. As with The Loneliness We Leave Behind, scarce had the words left my Instant Message to Deb than Lady Red Eyes said she wanted that song. ::sigh:: What can a girl do?
The Sound of Goodbye
Shut up and drive. / You don't know what you're talkin' about. / He's not
the one, you ought to know that by now. / You've got one of those hearts
that keeps changin' your mind. / Your heart has a way of making you stay
-- So shut up and drive.
Everyone had to leave sometime.
Every child had to separate from its parent and go its separate way.
Lyren knew that. She had done it before, when she had come to study sorcery with a wizard-god who promised her things beyond imagining. But now she had to leave that teacher, and she found it came harder than separation from any true family had been. And yet . . . he'd come to mean so much more to her than any of her blood-kin ever had. He was her true father, in spirit though not flesh, and Lyren's heart tore at the thought of leaving him.
But she didn't feel that she had any more choice now than she had had then. The Ancient One refused to teach her any more than she already knew, holding out promises and dreams like fabulous candies only to snatch them away or hold them just out of reach. And Lyren refused to play the role of puppet any longer. She had found another way to the power she craved, and the wizard could go to the Nether Realms!
She had trusted him, depended on him, for nearly a millennia. A millennia of soaking up his much-vaunted "wisdom" and trying to gain more than a nod of approval. And every time, just as she was about to give up and tell him precisely what to do with himself, he would show her something even more wondrous, a skill or spell that would send her heart aflutter. And then when she succeeded in gaining that turn of magick, he would be just affectionate enough that she would fall into the trap and stay a little longer.
And the worst part was, she loved him for it.
Don't look in the mirror. / He might have that look in his eyes, / The
one that's so strong it strangles your will to survive. / He's mastered
the art of looking sincere. / His eyes have a way of making you stay. /
Don't look in the mirror.
She loved him for those glimpses of affection, those promises of magical power. She lived for the words of approval and the rare instances of genuine laughter. She thrived under his instruction, and grew to see him as a father as well as a teacher.
But not anymore.
The Apparition had shown her the truth, the full extent of the Ancient One's power . . . and the fact that he would never teach her all of it. He would never give up his claim to the greatest magic in all of the world. He would never be willing to even truly share it. She was a student, yes, but nothing more. If anything, a great deal of the time she was an amusement, more like a pet than a child.
And now she did not want to be anything like his child, except in her ability to turn her back and give up all he had taught her, all he had promised. The Apparition has made her a promise as well -- a risky one, but worth it if It remained true to its word.
But then, that was one thing about the Burning Forest that could always be relied upon: it was all about truth and kept promises.
I'm the voice you never listen to, and I had to break your heart
to make you see / That he's the one who will be missin' you, /
And you'll only miss the man that you wanted him to be.
The Apparition . . . It was known by so many names, so many signs of power. Clouded by so many legends and whisperings. The Black Guardian. Ruler of the Burning Forest. Keeper of the Fire of Justice. Judgement of Souls.
And yet, for all of the names, there was a respect that was hardly ever admitted but there nonetheless. The Apparition was power as great -- or greater -- than that of the Ancient One, and Lyren would accept the bargain with a smile on her lovely face. She would accept the trade and the promise, the responsibility and the punishment.
She would take the Guardian's place in the Burning Forest while It passed on to the next level of existence. Someday, It assured her, she would take the same path. She would choose a successor and finally go on to her own peace and rest. But that someday, as Lyren knew and appreciated fully, would most probably not come for many, many millennia to come. This Prince of the Burning Forest has fulfilled Its role for nearly two million years.
Turn the radio on to drown out the sound of goodbye. / Blink back
the tears, show me you've still got your pride. / Just get yourself lost in
sad country song, those guys who think they / Know just what to say. /
Turn the radio on.
The transformation would be painful, and she would be forever marked by the magics that re-created her form into that of the new Judge. Her soul would remain intact, but the Night would be forever entwined around it. She would be changed, re-made, re-worked. But she would not be Evil -- rather, she was now to be a greater part of the Balance. She would judge and punish the wicked, and in so doing assure the continuance of the good and innocent.
She would be alone, always. No friends, no family, no possibility of children. Or even, after the transformation, the ability to create her beloved music. It was a hard bargain indeed, but it would grant her all the power she had been promised and denied. What she would learn in the next few million years would probably come as a surprise even to her.
Lyren looked around the lavishly appointed cavern that had been her quarters for the past three thousand years. Her bed, piled high with pillows in rich brocades and velvets. Her tables, where she had mixed perfumes and potions. Her obsidian bowl, where she had first practiced her scrying spells. Her mirror, where she had daily combed her waist-length hair into gleaming sable. All for him.
Lyren stared at herself in the mirror. She stared hard and tried to find, deep in her heart, regret or yearning as she remembered all those days and nights of study and magic. She tried to find something strong enough to make her consider changing her mind. There was still time, and the Apparition would allow her to stay her decision if she found her resolve lacking.
Out in the caverns, she heard the Ancient One calling for her, his voice halfway taunting as he asked, "Well, do you want to gain power or not, my lovely one?"
I'm the voice you never listen to, and I had to break your heart
to make you see / That he's the one who will be missin' you, /
And you'll only miss the man that you wanted him to be.
Lyren's heart hardened. No, there was nothing here for her now. She looked again into the mirror and her eyes grew stony to match her heart. Nothing for her, but she would leave something for him. Something seemingly small, to make it clear how completely valueless her time with him had been.
Her hand reached for the pair of fine silver scissors while her other hand grasped the end of her long braid. It was done in an instant, and the long locks were laid in the washing-bowl before the mirror. As she released the fine silk of her shorn hair, Lyren felt tears on her cheeks, but when she reached up to touch them she found that they were as cold as ice. She gave a small, bitter laugh, and crumbled the sign of magic into dust. Her tears were something she would never let him have again.
Shut up and drive. / Don't look in the mirror. /
Turn the radio on. / Get out of here. /
Shut up and drive.
Lyren gave her quarters one last look, then nodded sharply and summoned her power. She vanished just before the Ancient One came around the corner, but he never felt her leave. She was beyond him now.
She was free. She was her own.
And she never looked back.