"Good morning, Crash," a woman's voice said from somewhere out of sight.
The assassin didn't respond, but she could feel it when he left the room. There was a gentle click as the door shut.
Footsteps approached her bed. Sora knew she was about to lay eyes on the person who had doctored her back to health. She fidgeted a little nervously. Would the Healer have any bad news for her? Nothing could be worse than Dorian's death. Still, a knot of apprehension tied itself in her gut.
The woman came into view and stood in the exact same spot where Crash had been a moment before. Sora looked up. Her eyes widened. She was momentarily breathless.
"Hello," the woman said softly.
Sora couldn't talk. By the Wind Goddess! She looked up at the woman's face and felt like she was staring into a mirror. Besides the fragile signs of age, the woman looked almost exactly like her. In fact, the resemblance was so uncanny that the woman could have been an older sister, her aunt, or maybe even....
No, it's impossible!
"Who... who are you?" she choked out. Once again she felt close to tears, but for an entirely different reason.
"Sora," the woman said slowly. “I think you know who I am."
She shook her head, unable to admit it even to herself.
“I'm your mother.”
My mother. Here. Now. Really?
Sora wasn't sure what she felt — disbelief, to be sure. Maybe a little nauseated from all of the excitement. A little awkward, too. It seemed to be a mixture of everything.
She didn't know what to do or say, so she stared at the woman fully, not daring to blink, suddenly hungry for every minuscule detail of her appearance. Could this really be the mysterious figure she had searched for? Right here, right now, in front of her? She wanted to touch her somehow, make sure she wasn't dreaming. Still weak, she stretched a hand towards the Healer, uncertain if it would go right through her.
The woman took her hand, her own cold and dry. Then abruptly she sat down on her bed and pulled Sora into a fierce hug. At first she was stiff with pain and shock, then she slowly relaxed, easing into the embrace.
"Don't hate me, please don't hate me!” the woman cried. “Goddess be praised! I've rehearsed this moment for years and years, but — I don't know what to say!" She let out a teary laugh and hugged Sora closer. "M-my name, I suppose — you wouldn't know it, would you? It's Lorianne. Lori, some call me. I don't suppose your servants told you much?”
Sora shook her head numbly, but it was lost in the hug.
“I know you might not believe me,” Lori continued, “But it's true. I swear it's true. If you'll just give me a few minutes I'll think of some way to prove it-!"
Sora finally managed to pull back from the woman's iron grip. She held her off by the shoulders, looking into her identical blue eyes. Once again she was shocked by how closely they resembled each other. For a moment she doubted herself — what if this really was just some elaborate joke? What if this woman was crazy? But no, it was all too much of a coincidence, and the resemblance was unmistakable. Your mother, Sora, this is your mother! her inner voice screamed. She wanted it to be true so badly. It didn't make any sense, and yet she didn't want to fight it. She was scared she would wake up at any moment and discover it was all a dream, but no, the feeling of the woman's arms was real, warm, solid.
Slowly, Sora smiled. "It's really... it's really you," she whispered. "After all this time... I found you!"
Then she was wrapping her arms around her mother and tears were flooding from her eyes. No longer did she hold back, no longer was she self-conscious or worried about first impressions. She sobbed into the woman's shirt, crying for all that had happened to her since that fateful day in her manor, for all the years she had wondered about her real mother, about her real past. It all seemed like such a long time ago, the wedding, the abduction, the necklace in her music box. So much had happened, though it had only been a few months.
"Why?" Sora asked, still sniffling. She pulled back to look at her mother's face, and found that the woman had been crying too. “Lori — why?” She didn't know how else to say it, but she felt that the woman understood. It was the question that had been burning inside of her for years.
Her mother swallowed hard. "Where do you want me to begin?" she finally asked, her voice shaking. "What do you want me to tell you?"
"The truth would be nice," Sora replied quietly. Suddenly she was afraid — afraid of abandonment, of betrayal. What if her mother had thrown her away? What if she had been unwanted... unloved?
Her dubious thoughts were soon answered. "I didn't want to leave you, truly!" her mother said, shaking her head. "It was the hardest thing I have ever done... but the Catlins were out for my blood, and you wouldn't have been safe with me."
Sora was shocked again by the woman's words. "Catlins? I don't understand," she said, her eyes wide. She fingered her necklace, thoughtful.
Her mother's deep blue eyes focused on her hand. "I see you've found your Cat's Eye.” Her lips quirked strangely. "I'd hoped you would... and also, I'd hoped you wouldn't. That's one of the reasons why I hid it, I suppose. But I guess it's a good thing that you wore it. It's the only reason why you're still alive. The stone will go to great length to preserve the bearer."
Sora frowned at this, remembering something Crash had told her a long, long time ago. "But... but Mom," the term sounded strange on her tongue, "I'm wearing your Cat's Eye, right? Shouldn't you be dead? It bonds to the mind, and when you take it off...."
Her mother's expression melted into sadness, her eyes growing dim, distant. "True," she said quietly. "Very true, Sora. But that's not my Cat's Eye you wear."
"It's not?" It was too much. All her life she had thought the necklace was her mother's, an heirloom, something to remember her by. Now she felt shaken, uncertain. “Then whose-?”
"Your father's," her mother whispered. "The necklace is your father's. He left it to you — and he is tied to it."
Sora was shaking her head, rejecting the explanation. “No, no, no! My father didn't own any necklace!" She was sure of this — that nasty, pompous man couldn't have owned such a thing. “And wouldn't he be dead without it? Well, he's dead now anyway, but-”
"Dead? Is that so?" her mother murmured. Then she shrugged. "Ah well, not that it changes anything. Sora, that man — the Lord you grew up with — was not your father."
She blinked again. Shock after shock after shock. Her entire life was beginning to look different, taking on new colors, new meaning. The Lord's emotional distance suddenly made sense.
And suddenly she felt as though a great weight had been lifted from her chest. He's... he's not my father? Why was it so easy to believe? No wonder the man had never paid her any attention, treating her like just another piece of his estate. All of his indifference suddenly hurt a lot less.
This also changed something else, though Sora was surprised to think about it. Crash hadn't killed her father after all. It wasn't personal. The Lord's death was still a gruesome murder, but it didn't have to stay between them. Why did this make her feel so relieved?
"Alright," she murmured. "I believe you. But who was my real dad? And how did he come across this Cat's Eye?"
"Sora," the woman said slowly. "This might be hard for you to understand right now, but... the Cat's Eye is your father."
"What?"
"Sh, calm down, you'll upset your wound," she hushed. "Now listen to me, there's something important you must know about the necklace. It's not just a stone. The Cat's Eye are — well — alive. At least, partially alive."
Sora stared, struggling with what was being said.
"They bond to the bearer's mind and body, sharing it as a parasite would. It protects its host because, if the host dies, they have no way of moving around. If worn long enough, the stone even creates an attachment to the... well, the soul, I suppose you could call it. Your life essence, your spirit, the person you are. When that person dies with the Cat's Eye on, the necklace abso
rbs the soul as it would magic, trapping you... eh... inside."
Sora didn't know what to think. It sounded like some strange, fantastic horror story. This necklace — this tiny, marble-like jewel — was using her to survive? Dear gods... and what if I die? Would it eat her soul? It couldn't be true... and yet her mother would know, wouldn't she?
"So my father died while wearing the Cat's Eye," she said hoarsely, putting two and two together. "And now he... he's what, inside of it?"
Her mother nodded carefully. "While you're fighting, or sometimes when you dream, the past bearers of the Cat's Eye step forward to guide you. They are very real, Sora. I'm sure you've already experienced this. They are all still alive inside of the stone." The woman stared into her eyes, unblinking. “And sometimes... sometimes the Cat's Eye will lead you to what you are looking for. Sometimes... it will read you. It knows your heart, and take you to where you want to go.”
Sora's eyes slowly unfocused. She remembered her battle with the Catlins, her oddly enhanced reflexes... and then the dream from back in the swamp, the man by the window, the blood filling the room....
“You mean... you mean the necklace might have... led me to you?” she finally said.
Her mother nodded wordlessly.
“This is kind of hard to swallow,” she said a bit shakily. “I'm still not really sure what it all has to do with... well, anything....”
“I never had a Cat's Eye, only your father did. I knew him for a long time and he always had it. The majority of the stones were destroyed after the War of the Races because they were so dangerous. They are now practically forgotten. His is the only one I've ever seen.” Her mother put a gentle arm on Sora's shoulder. “Maybe I shouldn't have left it with you. Maybe it was a bad idea. But... I wanted you to have something that was his, something I would recognize if we ever met. I didn't exactly want you to wear it... but seeing how it has saved your life, I'm glad you did.”
"This is all too strange," Sora said abruptly, her head starting to hurt. “What happened to you, Lori? Why did you leave?"
Her mother sighed. "The truth?" she murmured, more to herself than to her daughter. Her eyes turned sad. "It all started... oh, a long time ago, far too many years back. I was about your age, I believe, living in a little town a long ways from here. Yes, a very long ways.” Her mother sighed again. "I was young and restless, with the heart of a wanderer. One day, I found a traveler in the woods. He jumped me, actually, thinking I was some sort of thief. Back then I had my hair cut short so I looked rather boyish. After that little mix up, we ended up spending quite some time together." Her mother was now smiling in fondness. "He would come visit me at my father's store. He offered to teach me how to fight, seeing as I was so fascinated with adventuring. His name was Dane Mire. This man, Sora, was your father.
“Dane had a Cat's Eye, and he was traveling to discover the secrets of the necklace so he could somehow take it off without dying. I was intrigued with his quest and decided to go with him. He was a very dashing fellow.” Her mother winked before continuing. "Eventually we came across a valley to the far north of here. It was a beautiful place, but it was being attacked by a mob of Catlins — quite a few of them. They were trying to establish a place in society again, and were so far doing a wonderful job of destroying the valley with their magic. Your father and I decided to help the people defend their city.
"It was easy at first with your father's Cat's Eye, but after the surprise wore off, the Catlins started to get nasty. We didn't stand a chance against them in hand-to-hand combat. So we led them away from the valley, teasing them on with night raids and trickery." Her mother's grin faded slightly, her eyes once again unfocused. "In the end, the Catlins moved into the swamp and left us alone — all but one, the Panthera, a huge, ugly beast who was infuriated by how we had destroyed his plans. He chased us for a long time, and just when I realized I was pregnant with you, he..." her mother swallowed hard. "He killed...." She stopped and turned away, her thin shoulders shaking. Sora wanted to comfort her but didn't know how, so she sat still and silent, absorbing the information. It was strange, hearing about the life and death of the father she had never known.
Finally, Lori recovered. "Dane gave his life for mine, and I knew that it was over then. I was sick of adventure: the killing, the fear, the danger. I just wanted to settle down and raise you, but as it was, the Catlin Warlord did not feel like giving up quite then. He followed me for a while until I found my way to a nobleman's house. The nobleman was entranced by my beauty and in desperate need of an heir. He let me in under the condition that he would keep the child and raise it. It was the best life I could give to you.
"I really don't know what happened over the winter. I spent most of my time locked away indoors, depressed. Then spring came. I was considering marrying the Lord when I saw the Panthera's paw prints in the mud outside the walls. He must have waited for me to come out all winter. Shortly after that, he killed one of the servants; we found the body mangled in the forest. I knew he'd attack me directly soon, but I couldn't risk you being killed too. So under the cover of darkness, I fled."
Her mother's head was bowed as though in shame, and Sora could see tears still leaking from her eyes. The sight wrenched something inside of her, but she couldn't bring herself to offer comfort. She was too engrossed in the story.
"He chased me for a while, then finally gave up. By that time I had settled on this side of the swamp, and I was terrified of returning to you, of exposing you to more danger. So I stayed here. I always thought of coming back... but I knew you had your own life as a rich noblewoman. I figured I would embarrass you... ruin your future.” The woman shrugged, deceptively nonchalant. “You had been adopted by a rich man. He could give you a better life than anything I could offer."
"Yeah, a loveless one," Sora said bitterly. She understood her mother's decision, but still hated it. Perhaps she had never wanted for food or shelter, and had been well educated, but there was a gap in her childhood that only a mother could fill. There was no way to go back and fix it. Those years were lost forever.
Lorianne either didn't hear her or didn't respond to the comment. Instead she took a deep breath. “It made sense at the time, and it still does. But I am so glad you found me.... I-I love you, believe me! I always have! If I'd known it would be this wonderful to have you in my house-!"
"Lori!" Sora exclaimed, cutting her off. It was too painful to hear, to be reminded of all of those wasted years. She didn't like the excuses, didn't agree with what her mother had done — but she knew she couldn't let it stand between them. They were together now. She had to focus on the present, find a way to forgive, to forget... but she didn't know how to bridge that gap. She till felt raw. Sore.
"I never thought... I always knew you loved me,” she said slowly. “I wanted to find you so badly. And my father... I always thought he was some stuck up Lord too important to notice his own daughter. I never thought that he might not be my real dad."
Her mother nodded, smiling slightly, as though waiting for something. But Sora didn't know what else to say. She was numb, tongue-tied, uncertain of herself and this woman before her. It was her mother, yes, but also a perfect stranger. So close, yet so very far away.
Lorianne looked at her for another moment, then wiped at her eyes awkwardly, as though sensing Sora's withdraw. “Well, I'm sure you're exhausted by all of this,” she said briskly. “You're terribly weak, and I'll burn the dinner talking to you. Of course, I think those friends of yours will eat anything.” She laughed a little, but it seemed forced, anxious. “Sleep, Sora. I have many things to tell you when you're stronger."
Sora nodded. In all honesty, it really was too much. She just wanted to be alone, especially now that the excitement had waned. She could feel her body trembling with the effort of sitting up. Her breath felt strangely shallow, her eyes heavy. She nodded dimly and laid back.
I found my mother. It's really her, she thought as the woman left the room, shutting the doo
r quietly. Somehow, in the wake of Dorian's death, it wasn't as comforting as she had hoped.
She fell asleep, her mind heavy with new knowledge.
Chapter 14
The forest was lush, green, and utterly alive.
It had been almost a month since her brush with death and the loss of Dorian. Her wound was almost completely healed now except for a sore red spot that was turning into a rather impressive scar. Sora liked the idea — she figured the scar would become like a badge of honor.
But the scar of Dorian's death went a bit deeper. She hadn't seen the world quite the same since; it was as though everything had a slightly different smell and taste, even her own thoughts. For the first week or so it had been strange without him, but now it was becoming disturbingly normal. She still found time to think of him at least once a day, remembering their conversations, the sound of his voice. The other two men never spoke of the thief, and she had seen neither mourn his death; it made her feel awkward during those times when she found herself crying. She still wondered if she could have saved him somehow.
Her thoughts were similar on this particular occasion, traveling with Burn to visit the thief's grave. The body had been burned as Wolfy tradition dictated, then the ashes had been thrown to a westward wind — but for Sora's sake, they had built a small monument in Dorian's honor a little ways from her mother's house. Sora could see it now from atop her horse; a small pile of stones next to a winding stream, with Dorian's knives placed on top.
Burn rode his horse slightly behind her, silent and deep in thought, his mind probably just as far away as hers.
Sora filled her lungs with the summer air and tried to keep her emotions steady; she didn't want to cry in front of the mercenary and tears were becoming a waste of energy. She directed the horse around the giant roots of a tree. The forest surrounding her mother's house was large and beautiful, far more wild and untamed than the woodland around her manor. She just wished she could share the sight with Dorian.