Author: Icaros Rising PM
What would have happened if Tylendel had not died that night? This is for all those who can't bear to let him go. The future has many paths - especially where magic is involved. TylendelxVanyel - obviously. NO Stefen.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Angst - Chapters: 18 - Words: 25,994 - Reviews: 79 - Favs: 61 - Follows: 94 - Updated: 10-11-09 - Published: 10-24-08 - id: 4613804
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Summary: What would have happened if Tylendel had not died that night? This is for all those who can't bear to let him go. The future has many paths - especially where magic is involved. TylendelxVanyel (obviously) NO Stefen AT ALL.
Guidelines: The Prelude of my story deals with that Sovvan-night: nothing has changed until this point, from Gala's repudiation of Tylendel to the boys' rescue by Savil and the other Heralds, the backlashing of the Gate-energy through Vanyel, and Tylendel fleeing into the Grove.
After the Prologue I leave a gap before Chapter 1: Vanyel, thinking Tylendel dead, runs into the storm, is Chosen by Yfandes and is finally found and returned to his room in Savil's suite. After that my story really begins as the plot diverges more from the original, with the consequences of Tylendel's survival. What are the Heralds going to do about a trainee without a Companion? Or someone who dreams with Foresight, hindsight, and visions of other might-have-beens?
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or Valdamar. They belong to Mercedes Lackey and I use them with great respect for her writings.
Warning: Stefen does NOT exist in this alternate reality. (And there are too many Stefen-stories out there...)
Vanyel stumbled forward, clutching himself against the cold that wracked his body. He burned with a pain so intense, so all-encompassing, it seemed to have stolen his mind. He couldn't think, couldn't feel except to hurt, and had no real idea why he was moving forward, on legs that were felt as much a part of him as dead wood. When he fell, he had not the wit to try save himself, but lay on the cold ground too drained to even wonder why.
Lightning lit the dark shadows of the trees and, as if hearing his name shouted into the night, he looked up. His eyes locked with those of the figure racing towards him, night-black eyes, holding nothing of sanity, drowning in loss —
Savil saw Tylendel dash out of the trees, dash past her. She forced her legs to carry her forward, reached out but knew already that she could not reach him, that he would pass his lover without pause.
Vanyel's head snapped up, eyes equally dark in his so white face. And Tylendel stopped, brought up as suddenly as if he had run into an invisible wall. He stood for a moment still and seemingly lifeless as marble, as Vanyel lay, moaning in pain, on the ground before Tylendel —
— who crumpled, like a puppet with cut strings —
— and Vanyel screamed.