Renegade had managed to make it all the way back to the Alcove without crying but now she needed to speak with Master Tristan. She needed to tell him about her mother, and about her powers, at least, what she assumed he didn't already know.

She was still dressed in her jeans and jacket, hands still buried deep inside, clutching and grasping the fabric nervously. While Master Tristan was attentive to all his students and told them to come to him when they needed anything, Renegade had never sought him out on her own. When she was a child it had been different because the children were watched over by everyone and when Renegade's feelings would get hurt and she would cry, well it was Master Tristan that would dry her tears and tell her about how proud her mother would be of her.

Liar.

She stood at his door, shifting nervpously, cursing her weakness and stubborn feelings. She needed to go to her room and forget about this, not go crying to the Master because her life just took an unexpected turn for the worse. Was that a by product of her independant childhood? Was it truly a weakness for her to seek help when her world gave way beneath her and she was left standing precariously upon an edge that threatened to fall in on her?

The hallway was dark and no shadows were cast as she raised her hand to knock nervously upon the door. "Please be in..."

Tristan had been busy trying to find out if he needed a new bookcase or not. Somewhere along the line he'd picked up a habit of reading what had been written about historical figures of the past that he'd been in the habit of watching. The manuscripts would have fit on one bookcase easily enough if not for Mahatma Gandhi. Tristan never could get enough of that guy. Between him and Winston Churchill, the better part of a shelf was occupied.

His attention was drawn away form this task by a knock at the door. Funny, he didn't remember inviting anyone by. Opening the door, he was pleasantly surprised to see Renegade Cross. She seemed nervous though, Tristan decided he should learn why. "Hello Ren," he said warmly with a foppishly formal overtone, "to what do I owe this surprise?"

"Um...good evening..." Renegade said quietly as she fidgeted in the hallway, the light from the room bathing her and casting a long deep shadow behind her that immediatly detatched itself from the floor and wrapped itself posessively around her body.

"Can I come in?" she asked as she managed to slip past him anyway, she was growing increasingly uncomfortable in the hallway, framed by the rectangular light.

Maybe it was because of her aggitated state and her mellow attitude that kept the other shadows where they were but as she sat down on the most uncomfortable looking chair she suddenly felt very small and young.

"I wanted to talk to you about my mom...and I want the truth..." she added quietly.


*MEH! tis ame, am sorry v.v*

"Can I come in?"

"Of cours-," Tristan began before trailing off when she let herself in. Young people these days were so impetuous at times.

"I wanted to talk to you about my mom...and I want the truth..."

This jolted Tristan a bit. He checked his memory to make sure everything was in order, and put a hand on Regegade's shoulder. "The truth is a good thing to want, Ren. And you deserve no less."

Renegade had taken the chair he'd saved from Edward the First's siege on Stirling castle. The poor thing must be seven hundred years old now. It was not to be sat upon. However, his students were more important than chairs. Besides, he was pretty sure he had another one like it stowed in a cave somewhere.

"Your mother was an Avatar of Air, like you are. As for what else I know, that's a little trickier. To describe an entire person. Maybe you can tell me where to begin?"

"Your mother was an Avatar of Air, like you are. As for what else I know, that's a little trickier. To describe an entire person. Maybe you can tell me where to begin?"


Renegade wasn't sure why she suddenly grew angry, emotions fliting across her face like the autumn wind blowing furiously outside the windows.

"Was my mother married to my father?" she asked. A simple question, yes or no, "Don't spare my feelings," she thought bitterly, as if daring him to lie to her.

"She's dead," Renegade decided then to inform him. "I saw her headstone in the cemetary tonight, it said loving wife and mother, who's mother? Who's wife? And if so, why would she leave me here and lead a life somewhere else?!" her voice rose to a near shout.

Tears finally spilled from her eyes again, silent fury gripping her in a way she never thought she could feel anger. Irrational thoughts gripped her, she wanted to scream and cry and break things, but years of taught control stilled her vibrating hands, forcing her to clench her fist futilly at her side as she took deep, calming breaths.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to yell," she muttered softly as her shaking hands came up and wiped the tears from ehr eyes.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to yell,"

"There really isn't anything that needs forgiving," Tristan replied, "How about if I answer your questions, then you tell me what you want to know from there?"

Tristan took a deep breath, this was not going to be easy. But selfishly, he'd be happy to get Renegade's past off his chest.

So he began, "They were not married, as if it matters. There were children long before there was marriage, you know. As far as what else I know, you have a half-brother. I'm not familiar with the specifics in this affair, but locating the man should certainly be possible.

"And I wish I knew why she left you here. Idealistically, it might have been because bastards are ostracized by society and she knew that you would be accepted here. Or maybe, she just didn't want to explain things to her husband and saw me as a convenient escape route. I wonder if she really knew her motivations, herself."

Renegade stiffened, it was a slap in the face that comment. The vain, selfish woman had dumped her off at a doorstep and probably gave no thought to her whatsoever!

"That's not true!" the shadows whispered. Voices of reason surrounded her on all sides. "Ask the door..." they urged. The door? The door where she'd been found? The door would know what transpired that night and she'd never thought to ask. "Besides..." another shadow crooned. "It is as the Master says, you were accepted and loved here, regardless of your heritage..."

Renegade shifted uncomfortably as she looked around the room, feeling shame at her poisonous thoughts. Realistically it would do her no good to be angry with the woman now, she was dead and gone, and Renegade, who had so looked forward to meeting her, felt nothing but a raw, aching wound where she was concerned.

"Why didn't she come see me when I was older? Why didn't she explain all this to me? Why did she just leave me? Was I not important enough? Good enough? Was it because I was too different?" she sniffled as her jacket sleeves moped up the tears that continued to fall.

She hadn't cried this much in ages and she was quite embarassed by it. One, she was bothering the Master who had done so much to help her, two she wanted to break everything in this room just to vent herself, three the shadows were trying their best to comfort her and yet she still felt miserable and four she was crying her fool head off like a child and she was nearly a woman.

Her deep breaths to calm herself were hardly working and made her sound even more pathetic. "I just want to know why I got left behind...." she whispered.

"Why didn't she come see me when I was older? Why didn't she explain all this to me? Why did she just leave me? Was I not important enough? Good enough? Was it because I was too different?"

That was a very good question. Tristan would give any number of ancient chairs to know that. He didn't think Renegade was right, though. Her mother had been a decent woman who had never lived a "normal" life. Tristan's best guess as to her motivation was shame. Shame for giving herself to a Dreamwalker when promised to a man.

"I just want to know why I got left behind...."

Again, Tristan suspected shame. But how to bring that into things? Ren was in a delicate emotional state already. Whatever he did, it would need to be presented with the old Tristan Licht panache.

And so he began, "I would venture to suggest that she was ashamed of herself. She felt as though she had betrayed her husband and son through having you. She had one foot in our world and one in the mundane, you know. Maybe, she thought that being of the world of magic would be good for you. Maybe, she thought that if you were raised here among Avatars and magics you would never be torn between the two worlds like she was.

"You could never be a part of the mundane world, Renegade. So maybe it is best that this one has become your home."

There were too many "maybes" in that for Tristan's liking. But it presented her mother in a favorable light. A tragic heroine who was caught between destiny and her own humanity. Perhaps. this would alter Renegade's perceptions of her mother. Maybe it would help her feel compassion instead of wrath.

Tristan hoped so. Wrath was unhealthy.

Her anger faded a little and she soon stopped crying. SHe could never understand what her mother felt that night when she had left her here, maybe she cared...maybe she didn't. But why leave her here instead of with her father, if she even knew who her father was...that was thought a bit bitterly and a sneer graced her face momentarily before vanishing.

Love was love...if she loved her father why wouldn't she have stayed with him? Though Renegade knew that the truth was far more terrible than she realized, nineteen years ago there was no alliance, nineteen years ago they would have seen Renegade as a freak and probably have killed her, at least here in the Alcove she would have been protected from that. While Renegade still had serious doubts about the depth of her mother's love she found that she couldn't begrudge the woman her selfishness, what would she have done in that situation?

Her hands clenched and unclenched in her lap, tears drying on her cheeks as she brushed the sleeve over her eyes again. Master Tristan was right, there was no way in hell she would have lasted out there...it was best that she was here...now she had to do something about it.

Rising to her feet she turned and looked at Tristan with as much of a smile that she could muster. "Thank you," was all she said as she began walking to the door to find her way outside and to the door. She wanted to know tonight, it was the last piece of the puzzle.

"Thank you"

"Any time, Ren," Tristan replied. In truth, he was not sure what she had to thank him for. He'd been quite vague for one, and had also given everything a rather idealistic spin.

Perhaps, he'd done right in this, though. Renegade seemed to be more composed than she'd been upon entering. Of course, it would be wise to keep a door open to further maintenance.

"I mean it," he continued, "You know where to find me."

Renegade simply raised her hand to acknowledge his comment and left, shutting the door softly behind her. So much to think about and all in one day!!

Sighing she made her way to her room and pushed open the door with little effort. It had been bolted shut on several occasions, the other kids pranking her for whatever reason they felt like that day and after awhile the old door just didn't move like it used to.

She reached over and flicked on her light her room instantly illuminating and sending towards her a multitude of shadows. They were all happy to see her of course and eagerly told her all about their day in the room, sitting and witing just for her. Her bed hung in one corner of the room by the window, Renegade, for whatever reason had been too scared to sleep in a regular bed and so had always sleapt in a hammock. It was quite sturdy, which was well and good since she had a multitude of blankets piled on it as well as a few pillows.

The old dress form she had rescued from the Uninhabited Lands stood in another corner next to her wardrobe decorated with paint and pictures and a feather boa not to mention a few other things she had tossed on it over the years. However it was not clothes or toys that cluttered the small room, it was books. Massive stacks and piles of books everywhere that she had rescued from the darkness of the old library. As she rooted around her things the shadows moved slwoly around her, whispering comforting things, they always knew when she was in a bad mood.

Finally she found her flashlight and opened her window, a large oak tree stood there and one branch was perfectly extended towards her, she leapt upon it without a second thought, teetering dangerously for a moment before righting herself. She moved along the branch caustiously before reaching it's sturdy base and manuvering her way down to the damp grass below her. Her bare feet slipped a little as she ran down a short slope and finally approched an old rotted door.

It hadn't been used in a very long time, vines and weeds grew up around it and the bolts were rusted and creaked with age and protest as she pushed it open just enough to set her illuminated flashlight on the other side. Immediatly a small shadow appeared from the door and rose up to meet her.

"I wondered when you would come to see me Shadow Shifter..." the door's voice was old and tired but held a grandfatherly note to it, in fact it sounded quite fond of her.

"I came to ask about...the night I was put here," Renegade murmured softly.

"Ahh...yes, I heard rumors that you were looking for her, your shadow is an incoragible gossip."

"I know.." Ren sighed.

"Your mother loved you very much Renegade and your father too."

"My father? He was there that night?" Ren's interest suddenly doubled.

"He stood in the shadows away from your mother, watching her the way only an immortal could watch his one true love. Your mother put you here because she knew that you'd be safe, already she knew what you would become."

"Master Tristan said that my mother was very talented." Ren mentioned.

"Yes, talented and beautiful, you look just like her, though you bare the markins of your father in your eyes and the darkness wound about your hair..." the door wheezed in refrence to the natural black streaks that scored her almost platinum hair.

"Did she...say anything?" Ren whispered.

"She was crying far too hard to say much of anything dear child, it was difficult for her to not only give up her child but you were the child that she created with the man she loved more than anything and she knew that she would never see you again..."

"I thought that..."

"Do not think child, only feel, you were made to feel that is why we are your allies, that is why we are your friends. No one could hear us before you came, no one cared about us before you came. You have the power to be something incredible for us, they call you Shadow Shifter and when your powers are honed you will know why..." the voice cracked slightly as the light began to fade in the falshlight.

"No! Wait!" A stupid request really sicne she could simply come back tomorrow but she a desperate need had seized her.

"You are loved here." Was the last thing the shadow said before the light died. Renegade sat there and stared blankly at the door, she had her answer now she needed to think her emotions through. As her hand reached out to retrieve her flashlight, the other clutched tightly to the rusted ring that helped her open the door, a cold hand gripped her wrist with surprising strength.

A scream died in her throat as the hand tugged and she nearly went with it. Stifling a shriek she dropped the flashlight and yanked her arm back wincing at the pain in her shoulder as she grasped the rusted handle wtih both hands and pulled. To her increasing horror a pale white arm slithered through the small crack and made motions to grab her. Through the black slit Ren could see a single red eye glaring at her.

Knowing that she had only seconds to get the door closed again she reached out and kicked the arm wringing a scream of rage and pain from beyond the wall. Using her remaining strength she gave a final tug and the door shut with a resounding boom and sent her sprawling on her back. She lay there in shock, listening to the howls of fury outside the protection of the gate, heart pouding violently in her chest.

She, like all the other's had heard the stories of what prowled the night, yet she unlike the other's had not been afraid. Even now as she shook with fear a new feeling crashed over her, shocking as freezing rain, she could fight this if she so chose...she could battle agianst the white arms and red eyes of the night.

Eventually the howls receeded and she slowly got to her feet, unsteady legs still shaking as she ran back to the tall tree and climbed it and scrambled back through her bedroom window. The shadows greeted her happily, only her own shadow worried about what was beyond the wall.

Renegade did not sleep that night and instead spent her hours till she fell asleep at dawn on the floor of her room, books open all around her, marked with monsters of the night.