“You are up early. Big plans?”
“No. I just like starting my day here,” Kyana said, turning back to look at the water again. “I was wondering. Do you miss Tyria?”
“Yes. I miss her company, and I miss the reassurance of having another Healer here. Why do you ask?”
“My oldest daughter is interested in apprenticing with you if you feel she would be a good choice.”
“I know Lai. Odd you should mention that, as I have for some time thought she had potential.”
“Or perhaps not odd at all,” Kyana suggested, and Pagara smiled.
“How is Norland doing?”
“He is angry with his father. I have tried to hide my feelings, but—” Kyana’s voice trailed off.
“The other females are worried. And Toniss, she is still seething over what her son did. I do not think it is over between those two yet.”
“It is as if something snapped in him. He is not the person I fell in love with. I wonder if I will ever get him back. If it were not forbidden now, and I could remember where it was, I think I would return home. There is nothing here for me any longer. Well, except my offling. But I would take them with me.” Kyana sighed. “I do not know how to heal this wound, Healer. Have you any help for me?” Then she broke down.
Pagara leaned over and put her arms around the sobbing female.
On the hill, Kyana’s oldest son was watching. Seeing his mother weeping into the Healer’s arms, he turned and stormed down the hillside toward Kayerm.
Nox’Tor had just finished mating Lorgil and rolled off her. He lay on his back, panting, and Lorgil rose, saying she was going to clean herself up. As she left, Norland was heading down the passageway toward her.
“Where is my father?” he demanded.
“In my quarters. You may need to give him a moment—”
But Norland brushed past her. Not bothering to announce his arrival, he stormed into the room.
Nox’Tor sat up with a start and then jumped to his feet.
“What is the meaning of this, storming in here?” he demanded of his son.
“Mother is down by the Great River, crying. Are you aware of that? No, of course not, because all you see is what you want to and what suits you. You have hurt her terribly, and she did nothing to deserve it. How could you be so heartless? What has happened to you, Father?”
“Calm down. You are making too big a deal of this. Your mother is the one who selected Lorgil, so how can she have a problem with it? You are too young to understand.”
“I am certainly not too young to understand, and I do not ever remember seeing Mother cry. I will never forgive you for this. You are supposed to protect the people who follow you, not use them for your own selfish purposes. You can hope that Lorgil bears you another son quickly because you have just lost this one.” Norland turned and stormed out as robustly as he had entered. Lorgil was standing in the hallway, having stopped at hearing the commotion.
As Norland passed her, he said, “This is not your fault. This is between my father and me. I do not blame you for this.”
Lorgil cleaned up, but instead of returning to Nox’Tor, she went in search of Kyana. Eventually, she found her sitting on the river bank talking to Pagara and asked if she could join them.
She sat down next to Kyana. “Your son and Nox’ just had strong words. Norland told Nox’Tor you were crying and how much he has hurt you by taking a Second Choice. I am so sorry to be any part of hurting you. I thought you were in agreement with it?”
Kyana shook her head. “Like you, I felt I had no position of strength from which to object. Now I wish I had, even though it would have created a rift between Nox’Tor and me. As it is, whatever was between us is gone; if I had my way, I would never share my bed with him again.”
Realizing that Lorgil was not coming back, Nox’Tor stormed out to look for his son. Instead, he saw the three females huddled together down by the river. This cannot be good. In a moment of better discretion, he turned and left them to themselves.
At Kthama, the second summer heatwave had passed, and the deciduous trees and bushes had already turned and lost their leaves. In all the communities everywhere, gathering and storing efforts picked up. The Akassa females focused on constructing and mending coverings for those who wanted them—mostly the lighter-coated females, who wore them for modesty, and occasionally the elderly.
Months had passed. The High Council had once again assembled. Pan scanned the group before opening the meeting. To her dismay, there were no Akassa in attendance.
Sitting in the back was Oragur with his daughter Krin, who appeared to be seeded. Tyria was back from her training with Oragur, also looking close to delivering. Everywhere Pan looked, life was moving forward—everyone’s but hers. Next to Hatos’Mok sat Rohm’Mok, and Pan dared not look at him lest her feelings for him be obvious to his father.
Pan welcomed them and then opened the meeting by asking if there were any announcements. Oragur proudly announced that Krin was seeded, even though it was obvious.
At one point, Pan pointed out that there were no Akassa there and asked the Leaders why not. They answered that the majority of the Akassa said they were comfortable with Mothoc rule and did not feel qualified to question any decisions. Pan listened, for now saying nothing.
Pan then announced that Kthama needed a Healer’s Helper. She asked the other Leaders and their Healers to consider anyone who would be suitable and willing to relocate to Kthama.
“Our Healer Tyria is obviously seeded. Once her offling is born, she will need the assistance of a Helper as the demands of motherhood will also draw on her time and reserves. Yes, we still have Tensil, but she is Akassa, and in some situations, she does not have the size or strength to treat us. Please bring anyone potentially suitable to the next meeting so Tyria and I can meet with him or her.”
After the meeting ended, some clustered around Tyria and Krin, congratulating them. Pan, who had noticed Varos, the record keeper, took the opportunity to question him about Lor Onida’s missing scroll.
“She did not give it to me, Guardian.”
Pan felt that the disappointment on her face must be obvious. “Thank you, though.”
She wanted very badly to escape to the sanctity of her quarters. She glanced over, and seeing Rohm’Mok staring at her, briefly shook her head as if to remind him that others might be watching.
Later that evening, Rohm’Mok came to her quarters.
Pan rushed into his arms, and he wrapped them tightly around her.
“I have missed you so,” she said.
“And I have missed you. If we were paired, I would be here to comfort you through every hardship. There will never be anyone in my heart but you.”
“Nor will there be anyone but you for me.”
“Then I hope you will be able to forgive me,” Rohm’Mok said softly.
“For what?” she asked, looking up with wide eyes.
“For this,” he said, and he pressed his lips against hers and tightened his embrace around her, pulling her whole body tight up against him.
Pan stiffened for a moment but then relented and instead kissed him back passionately. Her longing for him surged and spread through her like wildfire. She could feel her self-control slipping. He was all that she could hold on to.
Deep within Pan, something broke. All her sadness and pain came rushing over her, and in that moment, all she knew was an overwhelming need to belong to someone, to have something stable in her life. She loved Rohm deeply. “I want you; I must be yours,” she whispered into his ear.
“We are not paired,” he whispered back, nuzzling her neck, his other hand caressing the back of her head.
“I do not care. Who knows what tomorrow may bring; we are here now and together, and I wish it never to end,” she said.
Rohm’Mok hesitated, then whisked her up into his arms and carried her to her sleeping mat. In retrospect, he would have waited, taken more time with her. But the opportunity
to become one was overweighing all other considerations.
He laid her down gently and then positioned himself over her, continuing to kiss her neck, her lips. He slipped one knee between her legs and then the other and leaned close, waiting at each movement for her to rebuke him.
“I need you,” she whispered.
With a single motion, they were one, Rohm’Mok moving within her as she responded. Pan inhaled the musky scent of him, felt his warmth covering her. She drew comfort and assurance from his hard strength claiming her. She ran her hands down his back, feeling his solid muscles working to please them both. Time seemed to stop, lost up in the pleasure until finally, she stifled her cries as pleasure welled deep and blossomed to sweep through her body. His ecstasy mounted, and he emptied himself deep within her. The splendor given and received, Rohm rolled off and lay on the sleeping mat.
Within moments, Pan was filled with shame. What had they done? This was unheard of. No Mothoc mated another without a pairing, not since the time of her father’s forbidding it. She had broken faith with her father and everything he sacrificed to save the Mothoc from themselves. How can I be fit to lead if I cannot control my own desires?
Rohm’Mok saw her pained expression. He rolled onto his side and pulled her to him. She buried her face in his arms.
“I am sorry, Pan. I am so sorry. This is all my fault. How could I let this happen?”
“No, it is as much my fault as yours. Oh, Rohm, what if I become seeded? My community needs me, and I have put at risk my entire credibility as Adik’Tar and as Guardian. My parents are gone, my brother will not lead. My sisters were never prepared in any way. The Akassa are shirking from the leadership. I am all Kthama has left to believe in. What have I done?” She did not want to break down, but she could not help it.
Rohm’Mok held Pan until her emotions had drained. When she finally quieted, he gently lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “Say the word, Saraste’, and we will be paired. I came here only to remind you again that I am ready to leave and come to stand at your side. Just say when.”
It would solve a problem if I am seeded from this. But Pan could not commit to a day or time. She was not ready, and she had just proven that this was not the time for her to make life-changing decisions.
“Everything is in too much upheaval right now. Please understand; we have some time to decide when,” she choked out.
Rohm’Mok squeezed his eyes shut. “Alright. We will speak of this again at the time of the next meeting. Perhaps that will give you the space you need to sort things out. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If you change your mind, I will live the rest of my life alone. There will never be anyone for me but you.”
“Forgive me, but please go,” she said softly.
Rohm’Mok then slowly stood up to leave. “I would never do anything to hurt you,” he quietly said as he exited the room.
Pan rolled over, curled up, and lay on her mat for some time. She was failing. She was failing her father, and she was failing Kthama. She was failing herself; she was failing Rohm’Mok. Now she had to wait in agony to see if she was to bear his offling. Oh, please, let the cost of her weakness not be her peoples’ faith in Etera’s Guardian.
Weariness filled her body. She had not known such fatigue before. It was the need to enter the creative Aezaiterian flow. Eventually, she would have to. She could not avoid it forever.
Until the High Council ended and the group disbanded, Pan increased her resolve not to look at Rohm’Mok. Several times she caught Hatos’Mok eyeing her, and she looked away uncomfortably. He suspects something.
They had taken too many chances meeting alone. Perhaps someone had noticed and mentioned it to Hatos’Mok, or he had discovered it for himself. It was clear that she would not for much longer be able to avoid a final decision about Rohm’Mok and their pairing, whether she was seeded or not.
Weeks passed, and the signs Pan was waiting for, telling her that her beloved’s seed had not taken root, did not come.
Tyria walked slowly to what had now become known as the Healer’s Cove. The rest of the community had been advised to avoid the path leading in that direction. It provided a convenient way to prevent traffic, and it afforded Tyria the little privacy she had as Healer.
Winter snow had dusted everything, including the profusion of vines that covered the giant stone. Tyria cleared off a rock and sat down to seek counsel from the Great Mother; counsel for those she helped, those she loved, and for herself. She sat awhile after finishing her prayer and rubbed her belly, thinking about how soon her offling was due to be born.
As a Healer, Tyria knew there were herbs she could have taken that would have stopped the offling. But she could not do it, even though she had no mate to help her in raising him. Him. Was that a guess or a knowing, she wondered. She disagreed with Pan that Healers should not be allowed to be paired; the mantle became heavy at times. And to deny us the greatest blessing of life, to have the love of a mate and the satisfaction of raising a family, seems unkind and unfair for what we give in return. She would speak with the Guardian again before the High Council returned because she could feel Pan’s determination to convince the other members of the wisdom in this radical point of view.
She also decided to consult with Oragur the next time he came to High Rocks. His own daughter, Krin, also a Healer, was paired and seeded. With him, she could perhaps build an allegiance and sway Pan’s thoughts.
Back inside Kthama, Vel sought out her younger sister, finding her in the females cleansing area, an underground alcove where a tributary entered from above and passed through, eventually emptying out of the cave system. Pan was dangling her feet in the cold water, and Vel sat next to her.
“Greetings,” said Pan, splashing her toes and sending little ripples out into the shallow pool, where they were quickly dissipated by the slowly passing current.
“Greetings, Guardian.”
“Please; I get enough of that. I need no more worshipers, but I do need a sister. And a friend.”
“Is that what it feels like?” Vel asked. “That some worship you?”
“Sometimes. From the Mothoc, I mostly feel respect. From the Akassa, it often feels like worship. We are so different from them; we forget how much. We are so much bigger and sense far more than they do.”
Vel answered, “I do notice many of them step to the side as we come down the corridor. And when we eat, a form of segregation has sprung up on its own. Mothoc on one side, and the Akassa on another. Like it or not, a different division has come to our community.”
“The Akassa Leaders have stopped coming to the High Council meetings. Do you think they fear us?” Pan asked, concern edging her voice.
“Not fear, “Vel said. “But we are like the mountains, a backdrop to their lives. We have always been here. We are part of their landscape. They are not to speak of the Wrak-Wavara, and that also shrouds us in mystery, makes us even more separate from them. So, fear us, no. They see us as their protectors, I imagine, more than anything.
“But I came to seek your advice. There is someone who wishes to be paired, but her family has recently suffered many losses and wounds. She does not want to add further to their troubles.”
“A problem I can relate to, to be sure.”
“What can I say to her to help her realize her happiness would not be a burden to them?”
“If you are asking how I would counsel her, I would remind her that depriving herself of the joys of life does not deplete the well of blessings from which others have the same right to drink. And if her family loves her, which I am sure they do, they would want her to be happy. Despite the burdens they bear, they would ultimately rejoice with her in choosing the direction in which her heart leads.”
Vel sighed and sat quietly next to Pan.
“Now, tell me, how long have you wanted to be paired?”
“You knew I was speaking of myself?”
Pan chuckled. “I did not have to
use my supernatural Guardian powers to figure it out either.” She put her arm around Vel and drew her close.
“I have felt ready since before Mother became so sick. After that, it did not seem right to plan on anything with her condition.”
“And then you did not wish to ask for fear of hurting me, seeing how I reacted to Dak’s decision.”
“I know you do not wish to be Kthama’s Leader. I feel guilty having free choice to direct my life when it seems you have so little.”
Pan shook her head. “Oh, sister, thank you for your compassion. But your life needs to move forward. Trust that things are unfolding as they should, even when the signs suggest otherwise.”
“You sound like Father.”
“I suppose I do. It feels good to have a sliver of faith return. I suggest that we put this before the High Council when they next convene. Let that be the happy start to our next meeting. I will let you know so you can put your request before them yourself.”
Vel hugged Pan tighter and then put her own toes in the pool, and the two sisters began splashing the waters together.
At the Deep Valley, the Healer Oragur, his mate Neilith, and his daughter Krin were preparing medicinals in the Healer’s Quarters. “What is going on between Hatos’Mok and his son Rohm’Mok?” asked Neilith.
“I sense a great tension between them. I can hazard a guess that it has something to do with the Guardian,” Oragur answered. “And it is not to do with High Council business.”
It was not like her mate to gossip, so Neilith surmised it must be causing him a fair amount of concern. “Well, we agreed that something was building between Rohm’Mok and the Guardian when we were last at the High Rocks.”
“It seems it has grown, but the problem is, the Guardian made it clear she would not leave Kthama to be paired. Any mate would have to move there.”
“Hmmm,” Neilith answered. “Hatos’Mok has spoken of handing over the leadership for a while now. If his heir left, it would fly in the face of his plans. Do you truly believe Rohm’Mok would do such a thing?”
The Chamber of the Ancients: Wrak-Wavara: The Age of Darkness Book Two Page 6
