by G. H. Duval
As expected, Keth tested her shields. Again. Her smile never failed to goad him. She laughed inwardly. If there was one thing Mina knew she excelled at, it was placing and holding shields. Siare, herself, praised Mina for her strength in this aspect of her gift. This silly Keth could never know what she’d endured and how her very sanity had rested on her ability to maintain shields. Even had she tried to explain it to him, she knew he would not understand.
So she lured him into trying with those mischievous little smiles, and she swatted him away like the gnat he was as soon as he tried.
She had been instructed to “watch” her breath. Whatever that meant. Applying herself to her lesson, she let her eyes grow distant and began thinking about her breath.
BORING.
Whenever she thought that she was doing this strange thing correctly, her mind would wander. She wondered where Spring was at this moment, recalling that first luncheon they’d shared--happy that the visits had become a weekly staple in her routine. She’d learned so much over that meal, and in some measure, she still worked to absorb it all.
How could she reconcile the simple-seeming jewelry maker who’d raised her with the Persistence-path Earth Shepherd she’d learned Lena au Terre truly was—a woman capable of shaking the earth, itself, and calling down mountains should she choose? Lena had been pressed into service in lieu of more severe punishment and was even now undergoing the rigors of training as a soldier—the life she had fled but for which she had always been destined. Mina’s father, Jasper, fared better; Siare had proclaimed him innocent of his wife’s doings and added him to the Firsts’ armorers; according to Spring, he’d taken his new life in stride, relieved beyond measure that his daughters were now safe from any further tampering. Mina had not yet been permitted to visit with either of them, and she preferred it that way. She was not yet sufficiently healed to face what seeing them might stir in her.
Almost as surprising as what she’d learned about her mother was that Dodge—Spring’s closest friend from Hayden’s—had also been brought with them. Apparently, he’d been losing control of his Aspect recently, and Arbiter Jeyson decided he could no longer be safely tutored at home. As Dodge’s parents refused to place him under a governing band until he could declare, the only remaining option was to accept the budding au Ciele into the Steading before Declaration.
She also knew from those mid-day visits that Spring was not forced to endure niche lessons but once a week, whereas Mina had lessons more than thrice that often! Spring, and Dodge were taught how to better communicate and use their affinities outside. They worked in groups, within their own affinity and with others. Every now and again, Mina would glimpse of a clod of earth, or spouts of water, or bursts of flames outside her niche window. At times, the students themselves would rise into view—hovering, or swaying, or sometimes even soaring at great speeds!
Not Mina. No. She was confined to niche—to watching her breath, for Hirute’s sake.
Another yawn threatened, and she realized she’d strayed too long from her lesson. Before her Doyen could embarrass her again, she counted her breaths. In...one, two, three. Out...one, two, three. She continued in this manner for what seemed an eternity.
Much better. The sound of Mother Wilha’s voice slid softly into Mina’s mind. Had enough for one day, my dear one?
Yes!
Mina heard laughter in her mind. You’re doing well. Complete your lesson. I’ll be there shortly.
Mina, for once, complied without argument.
After what seemed too long a wait, but most certainly was only several minutes, the Headmistress entered the niche. Almost as one, each student broke from his or her exercise to turn to her. As soldiers would salute a general, they instead bowed heads and murmured their respect directly from mind to mind. Mina saw the streams of thought flow toward the woman she thought of now only as Mother Wilha. It was at times like these, when others saw her, that Mina remembered who Mother Wilha really was.
The Headmistress stood calmly and still…grey robes shimmering. And as the thoughts wrapped around her, she gathered each and wove them into a pattern that settled into her. She could take them all, sort them, know them, and not be overwhelmed. Mina marveled at her.
You, too, will do this, dear one. And so much more.
Callae welcomed the Headmistress with a formal curtsy. At a soft touch on the shoulder from Mother Wilha, Callae rose. A look passed between them before Callae spoke aloud; oddly, this was always the signal that class was over. At least for Mina.
“Mina, dear. The Headmistress would like a word.”
Mina beamed. She collected her bag, which held a battered copy of the Helig R’ad—her required liturgical reading—some chalk, and a blank slate. She schooled herself to a slow, dignified march to the front of the room, where Mother Wilha put an arm around her shoulders and guided her from niche for the day. She tried not to think of the pained look on Keth’s face as she once again received a favor he could not. And she failed.
*
“Would you like to discuss what is bothering you?” Mother Wilha asked gently. Unsurprisingly, she had noted the shift in Mina from exuberance at “escaping” niche early to quiet and intense concentration.
They walked the wide stone hall that dominated the top floor of the au L’espri tower, moving from the darker section—lit only by oil lamps and bordered on both sides by the four large, formal niche rooms—to the open section that was, in fact, an enclosed bridge, which itself spanned the courtyard below. Mina’s spirit lifted just by entering this brighter section, in which two floor-to-ceiling windows predominated and allowed a view of the courtyard below, where the other Shepherds-in-training practiced maneuvers.
It was a sunny afternoon, and as Mina hoped, Mother Wilha guided them to one of the windows and settled in to watch two boys who were working with an instructor below. The instructor’s back was to Mina, the boys facing him, and with a half-distracted mind, she watched them mimicking his motions—miniature funnel clouds dancing between them.
“He is ugly to me, Mother,” Mina whispered, finally responding. Mother Wilha never pushed Mina to provide answers right away; she cared about the answers, certainly, but she would always wait for Mina to be ready to share. “His thoughts are ugly. His actions are ugly. So why is it that when I give him just the smallest bit of that back, I feel so terrible?” Mother Wilha stroked the space between Mina’s shoulders, a soft circular motion. She did this often and it brought Mina comfort—let her know she was safe.
“It’s the blessing and the burden of your gift, dear one.” She paused and waited for Mina to meet her eyes. “Your responsibility is not so different than that of the Great Shepherd, Himself. For you have the gift to see. Unlike most, you see not only Keth’s outward actions or even his inward thoughts. You also see the pain and the fear and the hurts that cause his poor behavior. You have the gift to know that his anger is not truly directed at you, but rather at himself.” Her hand moved to rest on Mina’s far shoulder and she squeezed Mina reassuringly.
“Because of this, you have compassion for him. Empathy. This is an essential quality in you, for you will be called to judge all manner of disagreements and the behaviors of others throughout our lands. One cannot judge another—not fairly—without fully understanding the other party.”
“But what he does is wrong,” Mina insisted.
“And baiting him in order to further hurt him, to fan his fears…is that not also wrong?” Mother Wilha’s tone was still relaxed, almost friendly. Her words were all the more cutting for it, and Mina nodded morosely.
“Understanding his behavior does not excuse it, Mina,” she continued. “However, that understanding should certainly influence your response. Perhaps you can ponder ways to use your considerable gifts to help him fear less?” she suggested, almost innocently, and Mina started. She had never considered helping Keth. Suddenly, all that she had been told about Siare and how she, Mina, would one day take Siare’s place made mor
e sense.
“I see,” she said, and she truly meant it. Mother Wilha seemed pleased.
Mina focused more fully on the boys below and realized with a jolt that she recognized one of them. “Is that Dodge?” she nearly exclaimed, for the boy below bore an uncanny resemblance to Spring’s best friend. His parents were like family to her own, and Dodge was more than a friend. He was as dear to her as Brandin.
“I believe it is. You may reach if you would like, just to be certain.”
Mina grew excited. She was not permitted to reach at will while she was still undergoing lessons, but with Mother Wilha’s permission, she could practice connecting to the thoughts and feelings of others. Only properly, without her own thoughts and emotions becoming intertwined with those she touched.
She stilled her mind and counted her breathing for a few moments. The light, a kernel of power inside her, flared into life. It was tiny—pitiful, to her mind—but Mother Wilha assured her that the rest of her power was still there, only held in reserve until Mina could harness it safely. She imagined herself merging with that light and focused on Dodge below.
In the next moment, she was there with him. She hovered in his mind, seeing with eyes, though carefully. She did not touch his thoughts, for she had been told that this was considered a violation, and she only allowed herself a brief touch on his emotions. He concentrated intently, needing to please his instructor and to prove himself. Beneath that was a deep contentment at finally being released to engage his Aspect fully. She marveled at the strength of the power coursing through him and the effort required for him to keep the winds at his control—bound tightly into the tiny funnel swirling before him, just above his outstretched palms.
When he focused on his instructor’s face, soaring at the approval he saw there, Mina gasped and withdrew.
“That is the Formynder!” This time, she gave in fully to the exclamation, turning to Mother Wilha in excitement and confusion. “He tutors students?” She was incredulous.
“Why yes,” Mother Wilha replied. “All Shepherds are stewards, Mina. We are all expected to share in the responsibility of guiding and protecting our newest charges. As the Audience calendar has ended, he has the time to devote to those students who are most promising. Or challenging.”
“Which one is Dodge?” she asked, playfully, and Mother Wilha only winked in reply.
Mina looked once more at her friend, proud of him and his ability to perform this well before the Formynder, himself. When her gaze shifted to the boy working beside Dodge, her pulse quickened, and her stomach clenched. While she had never seen him before, she knew him. This, of course, made no sense, but she could not deny a sense of instant kinship. He was important to her in some way.
She absorbed his features: chin-length black hair, golden skin, and deep blue eyes. The kernel of power inside her pulsed again. Before she could call for Mother Wilha, her mentor moved from the edges of her mind—where she always seemed to be—to the forefront.
Be calm, dear one. Just breathe. I will have a look. Mother Wilha surrounded Mina’s light, caressing it until it diminished slowly, and after a few heartbeats, it vanished. Mother Wilha turned to face Mina and knelt, pulling Mina onto her knee.
“That boy is Mori, Mina. He is from Kirin. I am not surprised that your Aspect flared in response to him. As far as we know, he is the only person—ever—to be Aspect-touched in the entire land of Kirin. Hirute only knows how or why this has been permitted, but you can understand why the Formynder has taken him personally in hand.”
Mina nodded, still too perplexed to form coherent thoughts.
“Like you, he is younger than most of his peers of similar ability; he’s your age, in fact! The Formynder has paired him with Dodge, who is his equal in ability, to help them both settle into their new lives. As you’ve learned with Keth, children can be particularly poor at accepting those who differ from themselves. Mori will be a complete puzzle to them, so we thought it best to ease him into the Steading and let all involved acclimate a bit. Hmm?”
Again, Mina nodded, the wisdom in what Mother Wilha described evident.
“But…” she began, not sure how to phrase what she needed to know. “Why is he so important to me? Because he is, Mother. I can’t explain how or why, but he is very important to me in some way.”
Mother Wilha held her gaze for several beats, considering, before speaking.
“Siare and I have felt similarly about him, dear one. And, as I’ve promised to ever be honest with you, I will tell you. We cannot see him as we do others. Perhaps it is that he is of Kirin blood, or perhaps, it is simply Hirute’s Will that we remain ignorant. A test of faith, perhaps. As we know from the Helig Ra’d, Hirute’s wisdom and timing are perfect. Until we know more, we will care for him, instruct him, and wait for Hirute to reveal His plan. And until we know more, I will ask you not to reach for him, yes?”
Mina agreed, still numb from the reverberations left coursing through her body from looking upon Mori’s face for the first time. She prayed that Hirute would not be long in explaining why he meant so much to her. In the meantime, she would endeavor to learn all she could of this boy, within the limitations set by Mother Wilha.
“He’s new here, like me. And younger than his classmates,” Mina mused. “Perhaps he could use a friend?”
Mother Wilha smiled. “That is very likely, dear one. Why don’t we introduce you?”
Fifteen
“To heed My call is to yield to change. Rest in the knowledge that My hand is in your remaking.”
–Helig Ra’d, Teachings of the Great Shepherd
“Again!” Barked Luster au Leaux, and Spring once more linked hands with the students to either side of her. The four pupils stood in a circle, hand-in-hand as far as their arms would allow, with the lithe Instructor Luster in their center. Like so many of his Aspect, he was olive-skinned, tall, and graceful. Luster was their niche cluster’s lead instructor, making him responsible for Spring and the three others who had Declared along with her the evening that seemed surreal to her now. There was so much she had not known then—so many ideas that had been wrong, or, at least, incomplete.
For one, she had mistakenly assumed her instructors would consist primarily of au Terre Shepherds, but her error had been made clear to her very early. Instead, there were only a dozen active instructors currently assigned to the Steading; three of each natural Aspect. She had not been able to determine how many Spirit Shepherds were currently serving in similar roles as those students studied in their own niche, kept apart, and no one seemed eager to discuss why the au L’espris were treated differently. Particularly, she suspected, in her presence as it had been announced that the only current Candidate for their next First was Spring’s own sister.
While Spring did have lessons with those solely of her Aspect with an au Terre instructor once or twice a week, her lessons were predominantly taught as she was being instructed this morning—a cluster comprised of one student of each Aspect taught by one instructor. While the instructors varied, typically determined by the Aspect that would be the focus of that day’s lesson, their lead instructor bore the brunt of their tutelage.
Luster was not only their lead instructor; he was responsible for them in every way conceivable. Their rooms were located at the end of a hall near his two-room suite, and he counseled them on cultural matters as much as he did the use of their abilities. Spring was struggling to remember all the intricacies of court etiquette and Shepherd-borne rules of propriety in addition to the history, arithmetic, geography, and the host of other topics that were suddenly required of her in far greater depth than anything she had been taught at Hayden’s.
Like all other exercise days—which were held for three consecutive days and were always followed by two days of niche study and one day of rest—this morning had begun with rote exercises. Each member of their cluster stood in line, shoulder to shoulder, and faced an obstacle selected for their respective Aspect. Spring’s obstacle had be
en a small pile of stones; to her right sat a pail of water—which today had served as the obstacle for both their Water and Fire Shepherds as it was exceedingly cold, and the water had to be manipulated to keep it from turning to ice. Apparently, control over the water’s state was something that au Leauxs learn in time, but Anleah was not yet skilled enough for this, so Gauldry assisted with his Fire affinity. The obstacle for their au Ciele had been a traditional bullseye target.
For just over an hour, they had each been called to take their obstacle through a series of what Spring thought of as simple maneuvers, as she had done much more complex work on her own back at home, but she noted that her cluster-mates often struggled with their tasks. Their Air Shepherd, she thought, had it easiest in having to strike the bullseye with arrows that their instructor tossed at him. Perhaps it was harder than it appeared, but she’d grown used to Dodge, and he’d manipulated the workings of a farm with ease even before puberty, so she was not particularly impressed.
When she thought of him, Spring had to forcibly suppress the irritation she felt with her friend. Since they had come to the Steading, Dodge had withdrawn from her. Not completely, and not rudely. He would simply be too busy to study for niche with her or claim he had a lesson when she knew they were on the same schedule and shared a rest day. When she would manage to corner him in such a way that he had to relent or be obviously rude, he would endure his time with her politely, answer every question she put to him, but ask none of her. If she had not heard from Mina that he was studying with the Formynder—something she assumed must be extremely taxing and unnerving—she would have long since pulled him up short and demanded an answer. As it was, she had to bide her time and wait for the right opportunity to confront him and determine if their friendship could be mended—though she had no idea what had occurred to break it in the first place!
