The sky was darkening quickly as clothes were being shoved into bags endlessly. Ciara was not being organized about this at all, and Nalani was certain they would be leaving something behind. That was always the case, wasn’t it? Ciara wasn’t quite as concerned. Though it had been several years since she’d last been on Shaman, it surely hadn’t changed so much that anything she forgot to pack would be completely unobtainable.

The woman turned to her familiar and rubbed the white face softly. “You ready to go home, Nalani?” Ciara certainly was. She wanted to see Arthur and Lilith again, be back on the shores of the Lagoon and wander through the Labyrinth like the twists and turns were impossible to get lost in. The painful memories that had pushed the woman into self-imposed exile had faded slowly, but they were little more than a nagging presence in the back of the woman’s mind now.

Nalani had been less enthused to leave Shaman, especially when, in crossing the rip to this land, her form had changed. She was not at all comfortable in this skin or with her toes crammed together into tiny cloven hooves. Mostly, she missed her opposable thumbs. The lemur-antelope was still getting used to not being able to grab with anything but her teeth.

Her fairy glanced out at the gathering clouds as they rolled closer to the small shack the pair had been residing. It was time to go now. The storm was bringing the rip to Shaman with it, oddly enough. They had come through in a storm and they would return in one. With a grunt, Ciara grabbed most of the bags while her first born took one of the heavier in her mouth and they walked out into the growing winds.

Without the weight, Ciara would have run to the edge of the forest and into the glade where the rip was certain to appear; unfortunately, she was not without her baggage and so they dragged themselves over exposed roots and under low-hanging branches and around trees that seemed to spring endlessly from the ground ahead of them.

The phrase “calm before the storm” was not, as one might expect, a period of calm before a chaos was unleashed. It was not a period of peace before a war. It was, as Ciara had discovered in her time here, because animals and birds hid when storms were on the horizon. The twittering ceased, the chirping and yipping silenced. Finally, the trees opened into a small glade and the race to get there before the looming clouds began. Footsteps and hooffalls quickened and Ciara found her back and arms burning sharply. The pain in her body was so intense, especially in her upper right arm that she didn’t notice one bag falling behind.

Of course, Nalani noticed with her new and improved peripheral vision, but there was no time to turn back and grab it. The bags fell to the ground in the center of the clearing as the rain began to fall in large drops. Ciara gripped her arm and waited as the storm raged around them. The blonde woman, who had once had impossible to mistake red-hair like her mother, got wet. The rip was supposed to keep the pair dry. Was she to be stuck in this magic-dampening world until she died?

The warmth growing in her arms said otherwise, but went unnoticed by both fairy and familiar as the rain continued to pour down on them and their luggage. Nalani turned to brace against the pounding rain at her back while Ciara stood transfixed, staring upward at the clouds that had promised her safe journey home and forsaken her. “Ciara, Ciara turn around,” the antelope spoke through their mental connection. The fairy did as she was told and her eyes immediately fell upon the Castle.

Perhaps then, the storm had crossed the rip as well? Clearly this was Shaman. Nowhere else did Arthur’s castle sit so magnificently that it could be seen from anywhere in this world. Her torn muscles now magically healed, and her heart leaping at the thought of seeing her best friend, Ciara gathered her belongings and stretched her wings out behind her. It was a shame, really, that Nalani didn’t have wings (though in truth, the addax was more upset that the rift hadn’t turned her back into her old self) but her familiar had been away from the fairy before.

With a few powerful downthrusts, the fairy was in the air and speeding away from the thunderstorm and toward the stone marvel on the hillside.

When she touched down, Ciara promptly walked into the stables (so many memories here) and stored her bags behind a pile of hay bales. There, they would be safe and dry. It had been far too long since the woman had stepped foot in the hallowed halls that she doubted any guard here would recognize her. The quick shouts as she tried to move through the main gates proved her right and the fairy moved away.

Not to be outdone, Ciara shifted, her body becoming more compact and her head moving closer to the ground. In her serval form, she could sneak around less noticed, with fairies and familiars alike assuming she was either wild or a familiar looking for her fairy. With that mindset precisely, the girl entered and followed paths she would have thought forgotten. Muscles didn’t forget. Down this hall. Right. Left. Through the long corridor and into the private chambers of the royal family.

Huffing and puffing, Nalani approached the castle walls as well and headed for the stables as well. How embarrassing would it be for anyone to see her in this undignified form. Ordinary horses surely wouldn’t know her. Besides, dinner was calling and the plethora of hay was screaming the no-longer-a-lemur’s name.

Only when she was inside the king’s bedchamber did Ciara let her guard down. With feline grace, she leapt onto the comfortable mattress and squeezed her way between its warm covers and the down pillows. Like any good cat, promptly fell asleep.