Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

A/N: Not sure if I'm going to add to the ending.

Andrala ran through the forest, blinded by her tears. She had messed up again! And in front of her crush! Everyone already thought she was worse than hopeless – why did she have to prove them right all the time? She was good at nothing! Except making a fool of herself. And, of course, at that very moment she tripped over a tree root.

Not only did she land flat on her face, but she got a face full of muddy dirt and rotten leaves. Wiping her now-grimy features and spitting the taste out of her mouth, fresh tears welled up. She was hardly out of the sight of her classmates, still on the archery field. But she couldn’t force herself to move. Pulling her knees up against her chest, she began to cry even harder.

“Dray?”

The little brunette looked up from her knees at the sound of her nickname, though she could see nothing through the tears still streaming down her face. Roughly she wiped at them with her coat sleeve, trying to stop their relentless flow.

“Oh, Dray,” the speaker sighed, settling down in front of her. She brushed Andrala’s hair out of her eyes.

“Dina,” she hiccupped.

“Yeah,” she acknowledged, and continued, “c’mon, Dray, stop crying.” She smiled an encouraging sort of smile, no impatience at all in her voice. “I know you’re better than that.”

“No, I’m not,” she sniffed, though indeed her tears were fewer now.

“That’s your problem,” her friend huffed. “You don’t think positively of yourself! You’re already the wallflower, the crybaby, and the loser! But I know that’s not you! You’re always trying new things, you have a great imagination – that shows courage! You need to learn to use it!”

“I can’t,” she whispered.

“You can!”

Andrala dropped her eyes and shook her head mutely.

“Andrala Lark Kevlyn, you can.”

Now she stared at the blond sitting in front of her. Her friend hardly ever called her by her first name, let alone her full one. “Dina –”

“Your middle name isn’t ‘Lark’ for nothing, you know!” she went on. “A lark is a songbird – they fly above everyone else and sing their hearts out!”

“But that’s not me!” she wailed.

The blond girl threw up her hands. “Fine! Don’t believe me!” She stood up, brushing dirt off her jeans, posing a threatening image over the little brunette. “You’re coming to my house after painting.”

“Why?” she gasped. Dina knew full well that her stepfather terrified her.

But she had no sympathy: she crossed her arms. “If you won’t listen to me, then you’ll listen to Grandmother.”

“Dina –”

“No ifs, ands, or buts.”

Andrala dropped her eyes and hunched her shoulders: she had no choice. When Dina got that look in her eye, there was no arguing with her. After all, her middle name wasn’t ‘Gryphon’ for nothing.

With a determined glare, Dina walked off. With her heart in her down keeping her feet company, Andrala got up and followed her. Painting was going to be a nightmare.

Indeed it was. The hour crawled by for Andrala, and her torture was not made any easier to bear by the presence of her crush. Landic Toris was the star of the archery club, a superb tracker, and easy-going with everyone. His smile lit up a room, and his jokes made everyone laugh. And he was handsome, with wavy dark brown hair, and expressive green eyes. The way he carried himself, with the utmost careless confidence, fascinated her.

Though she was trying very hard not to look at him, Andrala couldn’t help staring at him out of the corner of her eye. He had his back to her, so that she could see his canvas. As with everything else, he was a master at painting. Even with only the most basic sketch done so far, she could tell that his wolf would seem alive. The flower that she was painting – in fact had been fussing over for many days now – looked dead in comparison. Her chest tightened, and yet again she had to hold back tears. And of course, this led her thoughts back to her short-comings, and how she would never be worthy to even talk to him. Though they had woodscraft, archery, and painting together, she had spoken hardly a handful of greetings to him. She couldn’t even contemplate uttering full sentences in his presence.

By the time the class was dismissed, she had added only a few strokes to her flower. For another few minutes, she sat staring at it blankly, full of misery. And then she remembered that she had to meet Dina – who did not like to be kept waiting. Hurriedly, she wrapped up her paints, washed her brush, and rushed out of the classroom – and straight into Landic.

She fell backwards, realizing with horror that paint had splattered everywhere. She shouldn’t have still had them with her! Blushing furiously, she stammered, “L-let me g-get a rag,” and escaped back into the classroom.

To her utmost embarrassment, he followed her. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, pretending to be absorbed in searching the supply table.

“Ondrala? Endrala?”

Now she really was crimson. He didn’t even know her name! “Andrala,” she whispered.

“What?”

“It’s Andrala,” she repeated, forcing herself to speak a little louder.

“Oh. Andrala.”

An awkward silence followed, in which she – unfortunately – found a rag. Now she would have to turn and face him. Before she could summon any courage to do so, however, he spoke again: “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She nodded, still with her back to him.

“Are you sure? You seem –”

He was interrupted by loud, impatient footsteps in the hall. Andrala knew immediately who it was, and knew exactly the expression that would be on Dina’s face: blazing annoyance. But then she stopped abruptly, and Andrala had to turn to see what was going on. Slowly, she raised her eyes from the floor. Landic was some five feet from her, his expression startled as he stared at Dina. The blond herself seemed stunned.

But she quickly recovered herself, and threw an impish grin in Andrala’s direction. “Nice work, Dray,” she congratulated the brunette, with a half-glance at Landic.

She could only shake her head in mute denial.

Dina ignored it, and continued, “I should leave you two alone together.”

“No!” she cried frantically, and then wished she had not. But it hardly mattered; Landic protested “We need to clean up the paint in the hall” at the same moment.

Dina flipped her hair out of her face. “Right,” she said, as if she had not even noticed it before. “Could you do that, Lan? We need to get going.”

“Where?”

“My Grandmother,” Dina answered, “she’s very ill.”

“Oh. Of course.”

“Thanks so much!” Dina gushed. She practically skipped over to Andrala, grabbed her by the wrist, and dragged her from the room. She didn’t say anything until they were halfway to her house. “I don’t know why you worry so much. You could make him fall for you easily.”

“No, I couldn’t!”

“Oh, really?” Dina countered. “You seemed to be doing just fine without me.”

Andrala shook her head, feeling the beginning of more tears. “No.”

Her friend huffed and picked up the pace again. In a few moments, the two girls stood at the gate to Dina’s family complex. It always reminded Andrala of the traditional familial complexes described in books about the mythical country of Japan, where relations lived in the same set of buildings, with their own private gardens and lush green ponds full of frogs and brightly colored fish.

And then Dina was dragging her inside. Kicking off her shoes, Dina raced along one of the outdoor decks attached to the nearest building. Andrala had no choice but to stay with her until they stopped in front of a sliding door.

Dina opened it slowly. “Grandmother?”

“Idina,” a cracked, old voice answered. “Come in, and don’t leave Andrala out there, either.”

“Yes, Grandmother.”

Dina herded her friend in first, before entering and closing the sliding door behind her. Kneeling on a cushion with her head bowed respectfully, she began, “Andrala needs some help –”

“Yes, yes, I know what Andrala needs.”

Dina looked up. “Can you help her?”

“No.”

“But, Grandmother –!”

“Idina, there is a price for everything. I have taught you this, and still you do not heed the lesson,” the old woman snapped. “Are you willing to risk Andrala’s health and safety so that she may be in a fleeting romance?”

“But she loves him!”

“Does he love her in return?” Grandmother countered coldly.

“How can she find out if she can’t even talk to him?” Dina argued.

“She must find her own answer to that question.”

Dina turned away bitterly. “You’re no shaman.”

“I know when and where my powers are required. Here, they are not.”

“They are never needed!” Dina flashed back. “You never use them for anything!”

“Many problems can be solved with the mind and heart.”

“That’s your excuse for everything!”

“It is not an excuse, Idina Gryphon, but the truth.”

Dina lapsed into sullen silence, glaring at the floor. Grandmother merely poured three cups of tea, supremely indifferent to her granddaughter’s attitude. “Would you like sugar, Andrala?”

“Yes, please,” she answered timidly; she had never had Dina’s courage to speak her mind.

Grandmother sighed. “You are troubled, Little Lark.”

She nodded mutely.

“Your heart is frail.”

Again, she nodded mutely.

Slowly, Grandmother got to her feet, as if weighted down by more than age. With the aid of her gnarled old cane, she hobbled over to a weathered chest of drawers. She heaved a drawer open, took something small from within, and slammed it shut again. When she returned to the tea-table, she was glaring at Dina. “The magical solution you seem to think will solve all,” she said sourly, opening her clenched fist.

On her palm sat a small, irregularly shaped stone, striped in the colors of the rainbow. Though the rock was a dull gray, the stripes shimmered and glowed like the mythical aurora. Both girls gasped, staring at its beauty.

“It is a metamorphosis stone,” Grandmother informed them. “Make a wish upon it, and it will come true – but at a cost.”

“Use it, Dray!” Dina urged her, looking from the stone to her friend.

Trembling, Andrala took the little rock from Grandmother’s weathered palm. The old woman’s hand was callused and hard from work, and wrinkled with wisdom: it was a shaman’s hand.

It weighed more than it looked. She almost dropped it.

She wasn’t sure she really wanted to use it, especially under Dina’s eager gaze. She bowed to Grandmother with a respectful “Thank you for your advice, shaman” and fled.

She tried not to think of the little rock clutched in her hand as she hurried home, but it was impossible. Should she use it? She was so absorbed in arguments with herself that she hardly noticed her parents’ questions about school, though she must have answered reasonably. She got to her room as quickly as she could.

By this time, she was feeling almost queasy with nerves. Declining dinner, she decided: it was time. I wish to be more like Dina, someone that Landic can admire… and love…

Now she was really feeling queasy, and dizzy, too. She lay back against her pillow and closed her eyes. It made the room stop spinning, but made her feel like she was falling…

She opened her eyes with a start. The sunlight pouring through her window informed her that the day was young… and she was on her bed fully clothed. How could she have been stupid enough to fall asleep in her clothes? It was highly uncomfortable. She kicked off her boots and was about to change into proper bedclothes when her mother entered.

“Andrala! You’re going to be late for school!”

“School?” she yelped. “Oh, no! Gimme a minute!” And with that, she dashed to her dresser, grabbed some clothes at random, and made to yank off her shirt when she realized that her mother was staring at her. “Can I have some privacy?”

“Oh. Right,” her mother answered, shaking her head a little.

“What’s wrong with her?” she thought irritably, as she changed at lightning speed. “It’s not like I’m an alien or something.” And then it hit her: the metamorphosis stone. It had worked! She wasn’t stressing over the fact that she might be late, or what to wear. She wasn’t being painstakingly organized or the least bit timid. She was outgoing, confident. With this realization, she ripped apart her bed, looking for the stone. But it was gone. Damn.

But she didn’t have time for a thorough search. She raced down the stairs, grabbed some fruit from the kitchen, and was out the door. She ran through the small copse of trees by her house, taking the shortcut she had never dared use before to get to school. And so she was on time, brimful of confidence. Seeing Dina across the way, she yelled, “Hey!”, and waved energetically. People stared.

But she didn’t care. She strode over to her friend, slinging an arm over her shoulders and grinning broadly. “It worked!” she whispered in Dina’s ear, as if sharing a delicious piece of gossip.

“Yeah,” she agreed awkwardly. She was staring, too.

“This is great!” she said enthusiastically. “I’ve never felt like this before!”

“Dray –”

“Yeah?”

“Nothing.” Dina was acting a little odd, but Andrala attributed it to shock and disregarded it. The world felt wonderful. She felt like she could do anything.

And so she did. Landic, his back to the courtyard, was standing at the entrance to the school building, so she marched over to him, and said, “Hey.”

“Huh?” he said, confused. “Betheena, we’re not working on the project right now –” He broke off as he turned to face her, and shock flashed across his face. “Andrala…?”

“Call me Dray,” she said sweetly.

“…Dray…?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, “everyone does.”

“Um… right…” he said. “Well… um, I’ll see you… later.” And he backed away from her, turned, and hurried down the corridor.

“Where are you going?” she asked, matching his pace.

“Sculpture class,” he answered automatically. He glanced at her. “Shouldn’t you be going to your first class?”

“Oh, right, I knew that,” she said, ignoring his question. “Silly me. Do you like it?”

“Er – yeah.”

“Cool! I’d never be able to stand it – it takes a lot of attention to detail, doesn’t it?”

“Um, yeah, it does –”

“I mean, I can appreciate the finished product, but I couldn’t make anything! You’re such a great artist, you know that, Landic?”

“Um, it’s why we go to this school…”

“Well, yeah, of course! But you’re much more talented than –”

“Ms. Kevlyn!”

Andrala stopped in her tracks. They had arrived at Landic’s classroom, and the teacher was staring down her (rather bony) nose at her. Her eyes flashing, she asked, “Shouldn’t you be in your first-period theater class?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she gushed, mentally calling her “Vulture-b***h”. “It’s just that Landic here was telling me all about his sculpture class, and it was so fascinating –” Andrala noted in the back of her mind that the teacher looked stunned, but she plowed on. “– and I just couldn’t stop asking questions, and the time vanished – and –”

“Ms. Kevlyn!” The vulture lady had recovered herself with remarkable speed. “Be that as it may, you are out-of-bounds and tardy –” Andrala opened her mouth to protest, but was stopped by a glare. “However, as I know this is your first offense in two years, I will let you go with a warning, rather than a detention. Dismissed!”

Andrala opened her mouth to thank her profusely, but vulture-lady glared even more fiercely at her, and so she fled – grinning broadly – instead. She ran through the corridors towards her theater class, but then decided that she had no interest in attending lessons today. She bypassed the door leading to the auditorium and skipped outside.

The day was bright and the sky was a perfect blue. Andrala took a deep breath, appreciating the beauty around her, and then climbed a tree. She had never dared to do anything of the sort before – fearing injury, or worse, humiliation – but now it felt like the most natural thing in the world to do. She climbed as far as up as she could, and then took in the view.

On the horizon to the north, she could make out a rocky stream – was that the way to the far-distant mountains? Between her and that mysterious sight, rolling hills stretched from east to west to south as far as she could see, dotted with copses of trees and small forests. Nestling among them were small villages, similar to her own.

She was disappointed. Apart from the just-visible stream, the terrain was ordinary; boring, even.

Sighing, she climbed down from the tree and plopped herself down on one of the weathered picnic tables in the courtyard. Why was everything so flawed?

To make herself feel better, she started thinking about Landic. Soon she was lost in daydreaming…

“Andrala?”

She snapped out of her thoughts about Landic, romantically confessing his love to her, at the sound of his real voice. It was confused, almost angry and hurt at the same time.

“It’s Dray,” she corrected him, brushing her hair out of her face.

“Whatever,” he muttered, dropping his eyes to his feet. It made her heart squeeze painfully. He opened his mouth to say whatever was bothering him –

“Dray!”

At the sound of Dina’s voice, Andrala’s dream-visions were shattered completely. Her friend sounded harassed, angry. And suddenly she wanted nothing to do with Idina Gryphon Kayo-Terge. She stood up suddenly, so that she was standing on the picnic table’s bench, towering over both Landic and her former friend. “Get away from me!” she screamed at her. “You’re ruining my life!”

To her satisfaction, Dina stopped in her tracks, shock and bewilderment on her face. But she wasn’t done; her newfound rage was not yet spent. She went on, “You know what? It’s your fault I was a timid little goody-two-shoes all my life! You always wanted the attention for yourself! You always had to be the best in everything! Always pushing others around – well, I’m through being your pet!” She jumped off the bench, landing right in front of Dina. The blond girl took a few steps backward, but Andrala followed. “You’re no friend of mine,” she hissed.

“Hey, Andrala, what’s your problem?” Landic grabbed her arm and spun her to face him.

“She wants you for herself,” she spat.

“What…?”

“I love you! She only wants to ruin my life!”

“What are you talking about?”

“I love you!” she repeated, and then pushed her lips against his in a hungry kiss.

He shoved her. She had never imagined a scene where he would push her, and she fell. She got up out of the dirt, and spat at his feet. “I see how it is,” she hissed. “You two have been going at it behind my back!”

“What?” Dina gasped. On top of her shocked question, Landic asked, “What are you talking about?”

“Neither of you are who I thought you were!” she screamed. She turned on her heel and pushed through the gathering crowd, and ran.

Dina and Landic stared after her, and then at each other.