This is my version of the events of The Wishsong of Shannara, and though it will for the most part follow the main plot of the story, I can't promise that it will be fully without deviation. That being said, I want to explore more the relationship between Brin and Allanon, more specifically, to answer a question I had when I was reading. "Alone, uncertain, he stood at the edge of the forest shadows and looked at Brin Ohmsford." (p.257, Wishsong)
What events lead up to making him do that? In the events that follow, why choose Brin as opposed to any other possibility for continuing the Druid line? Surely, as a Druid, if "all things are possible" then there must have been another solution to Allanon's predicament and he would have had ample time to research it and implement it before the event at the Chard Rush. This fic aims to flesh out more of their strange relationship and fill in the gaps in their journey. Be forewarned, the ending will differ from that of the Brooks' book. This is more for my own amusement than part of the character study.
Her father had described him as one would a family ghost, the spectre in the attic, a history that he wished would unwrite itself. To Brin, the tales of the man in dark robes were more childhood legend than cautionary; whorls of action gathered around this man, he was a harbinger of adventure to those he sought out and those who got caught up in his wake. At first, she had loved to hear her father's stories just for her parents' part in them, but gradually she found herself wondering more about the mysterious man who had set them off. Where did he go when he disappeared? What was he doing while her mother and father trekked through plains and moutainland together or escaped witches?
These were questions that Brin soon realized could not be answered. Her father was decidedly less than enthusiastic about her penchant for the wanderer, and he took to warning her not to go off with strangers before he left on one of his rounds across the Vale when he found out.
But strangers hardly made themselves known to her, let alone attempted to abscond with her on breath-taking adventures to save the world from certain doom. No, nothing more exciting happened when her mother and father were out than Jair perhaps getting himself into trouble with the neighbors, Rone visiting for extended periods of time, and occasionally a tree needing to be felled and split into firewood.
More and more, it dawned on Brin that, wish as she might, the extraordinary events that had brought her parents together would never happen to her. No unexplained visitors knocked on the Ohmsfords' door, having sought her out for days and nights, come to tell her that she was the last hope the world had. And the world certainly didn't seem like it was in need of saving, not after its evils had been sealed away years ago. It seemed as though the Fates had done a very good job of telling her that she was destined for nothing more than being extremely ordinary.
Her one redeeming anomaly, though, was the wishsong. Her father mistrusted it, spoke about it in the same detached voice that he had of the man in the dark robes, his eyes guarded, torn between wanting to love his daughter no matter what and desiring nothing more to do with magic, blue fire, or anything that altered the world unexplainably. Brin knew her song was different, special, that even Jair couldn't twist the very fabric of reality like she could. She was convinced that it had to mean something and refused to let go of the conviction. Still, nothing had happened, not even when she'd tested it.
The maple tree's leaves had flushed from bright green to sunset colors, her father was furious, and Brin was made to promise never to do it again. Rone had been upset that he hadn't been there and Jair was moderately pleased that for once his sister had been caught doing something wrong. No one came from foreign places having heard about it as a rumor, or even asked about the display later in town, and life continued as it once had.
Brin was almost ready to give up on the idea of ever leaving Shady Vale. She still dreamt of venturing out to new places, but it the opportunity never presented itself. She wasn't much of a healer herself, despite having both parents gifted in the art, so accompanying them hardly made sense. Logically she had resigned herself to a predictable existence, but the dreams still ate at the edges of her vision, always tempting, never satisfied with outset of her future.
So, when the giant in flowing black robes finally appeared on her doorstep, her parents out, told her that she must accompany him on a quest to save the world, and asked her if she knew his name, she really wasn't that surprised. She'd had his name on the tip of her tongue since childhood, had been waiting for him to find her in this quiet valley for years, and most certainly didn't need until dawn to puzzle out her answer.