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Aberrant: The Middle Children of History - The end of winter


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Crater Lake, Oregon 0537hrs Pst March 20th 2027

Ask a geologist and they will tell the tale of the great volcanic mountain Mazama. And how in it's fury exploded over seven thousand years ago collapsing into the great caldera now know as Crater Lake. It's deep crystal blue waters serene and peaceful in stark contrast to the the lake's violent origin.

But this is not the story the Klamath people would tell. Their story would be of violence but not simply of the earth but of great spirits. Of Llao a underworld spirit and Skell the sky god and how the two beings fought a war atop the mountains. The two beings clashed and the earth shook, fire and ash rose into the sky and the world of the Klamath seemed to be coming to an end. Llao brought Skell to his knees the underworld about to defeat the sky. Seeing this two medicine men of the Klamath bravely flung themselves into the underworld, their sacrifice inspired the sky god who rose and struck down Llao causing the fiery mountain he stood upon to collapse and the defeated spirit to fall back into the underworld. Skell covered the great hole in the mountain with water so that the Klamath could live in peace free of further intrusions from the underworld.

While the native story was far more entertaining none took it seriously. None but those among the Klamath and others who never underestimated the spirits and gave them their proper respect. And as this day began the ground shook the people of nearby Chiloquin from their beds. Fleeing their homes they saw a great storm and flashing lightning begin to form over the lake to the north. The elders began to chant for deliverance from the underworld and in response rose a great cry above all other sounds of the earth.

The serene lake lost it's serenity in the predawn light. Spontaneously a spherical cloud of seething fury condensed directly above the large cone shaped Wizard's Island. Snapping tendrils of lightning radiated from the tightly packed maelstrom. Tree's shattered and the ground exploded violently yet above the cacophony arose the piercing cry of a bird of prey. It's cry demanded the world's attention and the earth seemed to pause a moment then relent to it's shrieking demand.

Wings pierced the sky extending from the roiling storm. Each wing larger than a battleship arching upward then both came down and the sky boomed with such intensity trees bent back, others snapped. Yet despite the sheer size and power the great wings struggled as if trying to pull away from something holding them back. The wings flapped and another bomb like peel rolled across the Cascades as it struggled then finally broke free of the roaring maelstrom. An overwhelmingly immense bird like yet unlike a great raptor struggled in the sky, lightning flashed from it's eyes as it shrieked it's piercing call. The great sky god faltered a moment then fell. The storm having lost it's hold simply evaporated, leaving no trace of it except the burning timbers on the island below.

As the raptor plummeted feathers seemed to molt from it's colossal body, each seemed to turn to smoke and glowing dust. Then with a terrible crash and earthshaking thud the Thunderbird struck atop the bald of the island. An exploding shower of luminescent feathers and motes of flickering blue light arose from the heap of crushed burning trees disappating like embers into the sky of the first spring morning.

Within the impact laid a creature far smaller than what had appeared in the sky but still larger than man or beast yet seemed to be a amalgam of many. Beak, wings, claws and paws shaped it's strange body that seemed to belong more to myth than reality. With a shudder it's vibrant azure eyes took in the still calming lake before unconsciousness claimed it.

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Inyan Kara, Greater Pine Ridge Reservation, 07:38 CST, 20 Mar 2027

For over a decade, the slender figure thought by many to be a wakanwinyan, possibly in truth the return of the White Buffalo Calf Woman, lived far up the slopes of this majestic and sacred mountain. For the last nine of those years, she had done so alone, her legendary mate sundered from the physical realm in the devastation of Wounded Knee.

During those long years, this woman, calling herself Ptehehincalasanwin, had grown in her subtle powers of the mind, her gentle reach extending further and further out through the Native Tribes. It was now as a carefully crafted web, strands touching nearly every tribe in North America and a few in the distant southern continent, all interconnected, all leading back to what was believed by the Lakota to be the hub of the world: Inyan Kara.

In the midst of her morning routines, the wakanwinyan was shaken by a distinctive tremor in that web.

Frozen in mid-movement, Ptesan-Wi reached out over those delicate threads, finally finding the source: members of the distant Klamath people. With a mental caress, she delved into the mind of one in particular, a girl of no more than twelve who stared with rapt attention up at the great mount that held Crater Lake. With the slightest touch, the powerful psiad tapped into her most recent few moments and saw...

The shock of it nearly stopped her heart.

For the past nine years, Ptesan-Wi had told the People that the great Wakinyan was not dead, that he would someday return from the spirit world to walk the lands and soar the skies again. In her innermost heart, some part of her clung to the fiction, shaping it into a hoped-for truth. Yet, true belief had always been somehow just out of grasp.

Until now. Now, when she watched through innocent eyes that prophecy become manifest.

"Mihinga-ki...." There was no time for more words than that; releasing her hold upon the distant youth's mind, Ptesan-Wi raced for her disc, and then for the western skies.

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The sun spilled over the lip of the crater rim in the distance. It's warmth bathing his face and stirring him from the forced slumber that he had endured a short time earlier. Carefully he opened his eyes letting them adjust to the bright sun. The chaos of his arrival was on display all around him. Smoldering remains of already dead trees that were now mostly the ash and soot that covered his fur and feathers. The griffin like Nova began to examine the area around him. The hill on the island, the island in the crystal blue lake caldera. The gathering of cars at the scenic lookout along the western crater edge.....

People were coming, this world has people. He didn't know which thought panicked him most. But his keen eyes saw many on the rim looking toward the island he was now laying upon covered in ash. His senses took in the entirety of surroundings hastily as his body adapted to the his rocky surroundings becoming invisible to the onlookers across the lake. Hopefully none saw him, He had been covered in ash laying beneath burned out trees they might have missed him.

He had developed a habit when he began his world traveling long ago. It was a simple rule, learn about the world before the world learned about you. It wasn't easy, his arrival was never one that was subtle but he did not have a choice if he wanted to keep traveling that was the mode in which he did so.

Now invisible to the naked eye he pulled himself gingerly from the wreckage around him shaking off the ash and soot as he did. People would see trees falling kicking up debris but not him and that was fine. Still it wasn't going to be easy to hide his presence from these people. Already he saw a boat in the water approaching the island. The brown shirts of a U.S. Park Rangers on the people in it. So the U.S. existed in this world. He made a note of it as he began to slink away from his point of earth fall.

The griffin padded down the hillside flicking his long tail behind him sweeping away the pawprints he left behind him. No reason for them to see those and wonder who was making meter wide prints in the dirt and ash. Silently he moved to a area that was volcanic rock and turned his attention to the Rangers now coming ashore. Their talk of storms, and crazy eye witness reports were what he expected. His ears perked when he heard one older man say it was likely something Nova related. Another mental note was made. Each time it moved this Earth closer to what he was seeking.

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As she flew - or more accurately, rode - through the cold skies of a Wyoming morning, the Lakota goddess reached into a leather pouch and pulled out her sole concession to modern technology. Fitting the small device to her ear, she tuned in one of the various news stations carried these days on the OpNet. After the usual cavalcade of targeted advertisements - no, she didn't need pilot insurance; no, she didn't want an appraisal on her cave; no, she wasn't interested in a publicity agent - what passed for news began to spew forth. It didn't take long to remind her why she generally avoided the outside world.

The U.N. and Utopia were still "concerned" about the "unstable situation" in Sierra Leone (a situation they had helped create)... the Senate had once again refused trade sanctions against China for their abysmal nova-rights record... protesters in Los Angeles were demanding municipal sponsorship of Bastion, with counter-protesters demanding his arrest...

...a massive winged formation had formed over Crater Lake amid a sudden and meteorologically unlikely storm, taking a shape that many were reporting as a spitting image of the Terat once known as Wakinyan. Wakinyan, who had been the subject of a number of investigations and criminal charges, had been destroyed in the infamous Wounded Knee kill-sat malfunction which had left the national monument a wasteland. Something had impacted Wizard Island in the middle of the lake shortly after the image was seen, but at this time there was no positive confirmation of a nova on site; the Parks Service was cooperating in the investigation with tribal and state police. Commentators were already beginning to theorize this as the beginning of a Teragen campaign of terror....

She turned the hateful device off. It told her what she needed to know: that what she had seen through that child's eyes had indeed happened, that an impact - oh my love - had occured, that he was staying hidden.

It had been so long since Ptesan-Wi had last felt her husband's mind. The link had been torn asunder in his final dying moment, and the remnant had locked her into a cycle of psychic backlash and pain for days and weeks and even months afterward. With trepidation and fear and hope, she reached out now... and could find no trace of that connection, no hint.

For a moment, her heart and hope fell. But only a moment. She knew from long experience that a link so very long severed needed to be re-established. And I will, my love. I will.

Not for the first time, she rued her lack of true flight. Hoisting herself along via telekinetic manipulation of her "snowshoe" was painfully slow in comparison to what real novas could do. She had toyed with the idea of teleportation over the years, but her few tentative attempts had met with abject failure so far. Of course, that was before... and I have more control now, more power. I've grown as a wakanwinyan. Ten years ago, she would have felt a twinge of guilt at that last term, but no longer. She was Ptehehincalasanwin, returned to the People, and that was simply the truth as far as she was now concerned.

Wyoming slid past slowly beneath her, the mountains and forests of Yellowstone just now coming into view. I'm slow, mihinga ki, but I'm coming. Please be there for me.

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Stalking the rangers he watched them carefully. Listening to them speak as they moved through the burnt island hilltop. One was going on about how lucky they were. People would flock here now and increase the park revenues. Another commented that they were lucky no one got killed in whatever happened here. None of it information he needed anymore he was not even sure what it was he was looking for. How long can you be lost before you don't even recognize home anymore.

It didn't help that his stomach began to twist and rumble. Slipping from one world along the great spiral to the next always took so much out of him. He would need to hunt soon but his curiosity forced him to stay.

One ranger was giving a report over a phone. Insisting that whatever had caused the incident was long over or long gone. Yet he seemed to relent to whoever of higher authority was on the other end of the line before hanging up. Soil samples, Radiation tests he called out to the others as he pulled off a pack and began taking out equipment. The invisible Nova watched them from a distance settling down, tucking his legs beneath him like a cat as he watched them. After watching the Rangers go about their work he decided going to shore and check out the spectators who had gathered on the rim they might have more information to provide anyway.

Creeping further down the hillside the griffin took off still invisible but with a puff of ash from his still sooty coat. There was not much need to fly his legs easily powered the distance to shore but he feathered his landing with his broad wings touching down silently near the gathering group of camera and OPphone wielding spectators. Before he even landed he heard the word. His ears flicked and his beaked faced zeroed in on the one who spoke it. Then someone else in the crowd said the name. Wakinyan, it was said in speculation or in theory yet people were saying the name. His name, moving forward he sat and began to hope that maybe just maybe he was the Wakinyan they spoke of.

Should he reveal himself? His mind began to race. He had to know more but still wasn't sure if he should reveal himself. In the end though he might not have a choice if he wanted to know what he so desperately sought.

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Yellowstone was a glorious place. It was, in fact, one of Ptesan-Wi's favorite places to go when she roamed out from the Pine Ridge Reservation. Only in Yellowstone could she see the beauty of wolf packs, the majesty of large buffalo herds, the unspoiled and untouched trees reaching up to brush the mountain-studded sky.

All of that was lost on her now, her mind focused like a laser on two things: keeping the disc aloft, and what she would find at journey's end. She wanted - dearly, desperately wanted - to reach out to another mind at Crater Lake and see what was happening, but to do so would risk breaking her mental grip upon her "snowshoe"... and that was too grim a thought to consider. Ptesan-Wi had lost control in flight twice before, and been lucky enough to regain it fast enough to avoid a catastrophic tumble to the unyielding world below. She didn't want to press her luck a third time.

So she kept on, cursing her slow progress and wishing for a glimpse she couldn't afford.

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"I wonder if he will go trash Chicago again?"

"You are assuming this is the same guy. Remember he caught a Rod From God. Nova or not you don't survive that."

"Bull. I know a lot of Nova's that probably could."

"They showed his corpse on every OPnet feed. The injun was KFC I tell you."

What were they talking about he wondered. Was he wrong was this not his world after all? In this world did he die? He was to tired to move on so it was best to keep his ears open.

"We've been here for hours. Whatever happened is long over."

"I am surprised the military isn't here. If it was Teragen you would think they would have this place crawling with Nova Kill Teams."

"I am sure there are a dozen satellites and UAVs watching us right now man. Hell they probably targeted this place with a nuke or something just in case."

"Uh... Should we leave?"

"No way. If shit goes down it will be awesome!"

He had heard enough. He could learn more but to stay might give the fool the show he was looking for. Wakinyan took to wing his body still sore and knitting itself back together as he took a heading directly to the east. Once clear of the volcanic lake he let himself become visible letting his powerful wing beats brought him up to a comfortable speed quickly. Then with a nudge of his node his wings flared as a jet stream scooped him up and rocketed him eastward toward what should be his home. A place that would settle for him once and for all if this was truly his home or not.

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Flying over Montana was brisk at any time of year, and this was only March. On any kind of a sane day (or as close to sane as she was ever likely to approach), Ptesan-Wi would have had furs pulled tight around her. But she'd dropped everything on that first mental image, had run off with literally nothing but the deerskins and disc. At altitude, the bitter winds cut through to the bone, and her ruddy skin was turning more of a blue in places.

She crested a mountain, and saw what she at first took for a low-flying plane far up ahead, approaching fast. But planes do not beat their wings, which this distant object did a few moments after she spotted it. As it drew closer at a phenomenal rate of speed, she strained her eyes to see... to see...

*Mihinga-ki*

That one word, sent almost as an instinct to the oncoming creature, was the focus of her world for that bright, gleaming, impossible instant. And in that instant, her carefully maintained concentration failed.

With her mate in sight, Ptesan-Wi fell.

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Arching through the sky mindful to dodge the occasional jetliner he made excellent time. It was always telling of a world with what you found in it's sky, Novas, Biplanes, Jet, Dinosaurs or ether powered zeppelins. Scramjetliners and and flying cars felt about right felt close to home.

As he cleared the Rockies he descended checking familiar landmarks just to make sure there was nothing that would tell him this was not his home.

Mihinga-ki

His large furred ears perked and pivoted. Where had that come from? It seemed so familiar, so clear, over the rush of the winds across his body. Emotions like a shocking jolt rippled through his mind, projected with the simple word. His eyes roamed over the landscape and spotted in the distance two objects falling. A saucer flipping like a coin and below it a figure with arms and legs outstretched. His eagle eyes zoomed in and examined the face red cheeked with cold, long braids coming apart and whipping in the wind off and on concealing her face. Tear drops flying up and away from her eyes as she fell away from them.

The massive white shock collar formed around the giant avian like head of the griffin. The condensation shockwave slipped down and ringed his broad chest as the Nova went transonic as he flew. It was overkill of course, he could have caught her long before she neared the ground but it drew him closer that much faster. He closed the three mile gap in seconds but that to him felt like an eternity. His Node reflecting his impatience by flicking streamers of lightning off his ears and wings, wreathing him in a bright blue Saint Elmo's Fire.

He was of course wise enough to slow before he reached her. His feather splaying out braking him almost as quickly as he accelerated. The large Nova rolled going inverted as he passed above her. Tucking his wings he dove, moving up alongside her his large eyes coming parallel with hers.

The roar of the wind seemed to fade to nothing. The rushing ground still far below became irrelevant. Wakinyan looked at the woman he had began this long trip home for. Her beautiful face a little more mature yet shown that there was more days of sadness than happiness. The two fell looking at one another separated from the universe around them.

Speaking without opening his beak he asked in the voice like distant thunder.

"Am I home?"

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With shock still upon her face, there was a moment of free fall together, the only sound being the air rushing past the two as they were pulled inexorably toward the earth. Then it was as though a spring, held in check for nearly a decade, suddenly released. With arms that had ached alone and empty for so very long, Ptesan-Wi grabbed hold, wrapping tight around that familiar and long-absent neck. Tears soaked fur and feather as she buried her face, breathing once more the scent of her beloved.

*You're home,* she managed to send. *I don't know how, but you're home*

Another long moment passed, and a shudder passed through her fragile body. She looked down, and quickly sent, *And we'll be buried in home if you don't pull us up right now!*

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He had traveled for so long he didn't know quite what to do once he got to this moment. As far as the woman grabbing his neck, as far as saving the two, opening his broad wings did that job easily enough. Leveling out his hindclaw thoughtfully grabbed the disk as it fell past them.

His wings beat hard and sent him and his rider toward the east once more. His heart seemed to beat harder, he still wasn't sure what to do. At the moment he had sought for so long he couldn't believe now was the moment he would fumble over himself. So instead of trying to plan what to do he did what he felt he should do.

Turning back against his neck he licked the cheek of his wife.

"You are cold." He stated with care in his voice. His feathers and fur ruffled around her almost burying her within his coat to warm and protect her.

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The voice sounded so much like him. The fur, the feathers, the raw strength spoke of him as well. But was it truly him?

Carefully, fearful of what she might find, Ptesan-Wi reached out to the mind of this powerful nova. Through the ever-present static - worse now than ever - that she encountered with any of their kind, she searched, looking in his mind for a tiny remnant, a marker that she would know...

...and there it was. Deep within him was stored what she had done to him a decade earlier: the mental block that kept her true identity and heritage a secret for them and them alone. Along with it was the hint of a long-broken link, older than she'd expected. But then, she thought, time could work differently on other worlds.

With joy threatening to bring her heart to bursting, she reforged that sacred connection, and thought to him, *We are together again, mihinga-ki. The cold can do nothing to me now.* With the link restored, he could feel what she felt: impossible hope renewed and love returned.

*Take us home, my love. Take us home, and show the People that you are truly returned.* An edge came upon her thoughts now, a hint of vindictiveness that caught the huge nova a bit unaware. *Show the wasicu that Wakinyan is not something they can so easily destroy.*

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His wolf like ears flicked at the emotion behind the last statement. For a moment he didn't know if she was overjoyed at having the love of her life home. Or the resurrection of her cause. Maybe it was both, he hoped for both.

Stretching out his beautiful wings the wind spirits answered his call and they swept eastward. As he flew he knew she would prod him for where he had been. What had he done. He wanted to ask why Timeslip never came. But the last part of her statement filled him with icey dread. Destroyed? The events of the last ten years were fractured and fragmented. Had he died? So much tumbled through his mind, nothing he could sort. The griffin grimaced in reflection as lightning became a aura around his body shielding his reclaimed wife from the tearing winds of the great speed.

He had many questions to ask her. And he was sure she would ask him as well but still he flew silently simply allowing her scent, touch and presence fill the decade wide hole he had within his heart.

Then his superiorly keen eye caught sight of it. The great wings rising over the plains. The sharp beak, the solid metal monument that the Terats had formed in the night in his likeness outside of Oglala. Taller than the statue of liberty it's fierce and regal being was a monument to him for something he had not even done at the time but for something he would do. And was doing again now, becoming the focus of hope and pride for a culture that had been brought to it's knees in a gasping breath.

He circled overhead a moment looking down at the city. It was larger yet cleaner than he remembered. More prosperous and tied to it's roots. Banners of the tribal nations hung along the street leading to the statue.

Not once in his mind did he wonder if he was not up to this task. He knew that where ever he had went in the multiverse beyond this is what he was doing. Protecting and inspiring those that Wakan had instructed him to.

"Cover your ears. Use your power if you need to." He said without saying to the dark haired beauty around his neck. With that Wakinyan alighted upon his own head in statue form. For a moment he surveyed the lands around him then gathered his breath. His chest puffing broadly as inhaled for what seemed far to long. Then a pause a moment of what seemed like complete silence, the world seemed to turn to look at him in silence, waiting....

The shrieking call layered itself over the deep roar. So loud people later said they heard it clearly fifty miles away. Windows cracked and objects fell from shelves. with covered ears every eye searched for the source of the tremendous triumphant and defiant call. It was found atop the impressive monument of a griffin that now seemed insignificant to the glory of the living version atop it. Wings outstretched Wakinyan continued his din. Standing on his hind legs, arching and flapping his wings and flaring his mane.

Now that he had their attention he let the cry come to an abrupt end and dropped back onto all fours. Turning to eye his mate he said with a wry grin turning the side of his beak. "Let's see if that got everyone's attention."

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Get attention, it did. It also, despite the best precautions she could make, deafen Ptesan-Wi for several minutes. By the time her hearing had returned, a din was rising up from a massive crowd, as very nearly every member of the local community had gathered at the base of the statue.

Fortunately, she didn't need ears to hear.

*Is it really him?!?* The thought was common in the first few minutes, as the tribe looked up to see Wakinyan's immense form bright against the deep blue sky.

*Has to be a trick.* *It's a lookalike.* *Some kind of Teragen stunt.* Thoughts of this sort ran through a few minds, Ptesan-Wi noted. Most were those who hadn't taken well to the return to the Old Ways she had engendered over the past decade, but a few were surprising exceptions, including at least one tribal elder. Eyes narrowed with concentration amid the mental din, she noted the names of the unbelievers.

And yet, after the initial shock and as her ears began to work once again, she could hear the same thought, the same words, from the vast majority of the tribe: *He's returned! He's really returned!*

And with that, Ptesan-Wi's heart swelled.

*Yes,* she sent to the minds of the faithful, *Wakinyan has returned!*

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