As the breath slowly left his lips, the rogue calmed his heart and attuned himself to the world around him. Behind him, hooves shuffled. He could hear whickering between Siabra and Diego as they interacted with one another.
Jaspur swiveled his ears, letting his awareness sink deeper into the mountain. A breeze stirred, rustling the grass and causing the trees to sway and whisper. Nearby, a rabbit poked its head out of its hole, sniffing about.
The rogue took another deep breath and exhaled, slowly returning his awareness back to himself and into his core. There, he could see the enchanted flame that was his inner magic. It burned mostly blue, though flecks of silver shimmered inside its heart.
The last time he had journeyed inside of himself was before the Awakening. Now his mind’s eye widened as he realized how large the flame had grown. His pool of magic was broader now, its fire crackling with potential. He pulled a tendril free from his core and released it into his body.
A warmth rushed through him and his senses heightened tenfold. He picked up movement within the camp now, though it was well out of sight. Inside his mind, gray wisps swirled and coalesced into a detailed picture of the landscape around him.
A vision not of the past, but the present.
He could see Deley was up and making her way to him via the same rockslide he had taken earlier. He nodded his chin in approval. Clever girl.
Reeling his senses back, he both felt and heard the sound of boots crackling against the hard-packed earth. The vision in his head blurred, as if trying to keep up with the sudden change in focus.
Diego lifted his head away from his grazing and neighed softly. A familiar spirit, then. Jaspur kept his eyes closed, waiting to see if his mind’s eye would clear quick enough to pinpoint who it was. Then a hand fell upon his shoulder, followed by a voice that disrupted his focus.
“A moment of your time?”
Jaspur looked up, the blue glow of his irises dissipating as he released the magic he had been weaving. His ears perked in surprise, and his heart skipped a beat in spite of his effort to temper it.
“Levee?”
He hadn’t expected this. The last time they saw one another, he had intentionally been rude in an attempt to push her farther away. It was better for both of them if he were unlikeable, he thought.
But as she took a seat beside him, he felt a new warmth run through his body. His heart picked up its pace, both thrilled and wary to find she had sought him out alone.
Why, he wasn’t certain. Levee didn’t leap into her reasons for being here. Hunched over crossed legs, she absently plucked at the grass as she watched the sun crawl higher into the sky.
Jaspur leaned back on his hands, not wanting to disrupt the moment. There was a vulnerability in her presence. Her guard was down for the first time since they had reunited.
“Tobiano told me about the three of you journeying on ahead of us,” she murmured. “I know you’ll take care of Sadikaye. I don’t need you to promise me because I know the part of you that is still Jaycent would rather die than see our son come to harm.”
Jaspur nodded, but said nothing. He sensed her real reason for being here was still forthcoming. Diego returned to his grazing, his ears perked as he listened nosily to their conversation while Siabra casually grazed toward Levee’s side.
“I want to ask you something,” she said, her small attack against the grass growing more fervent. “This will be a conversation I want kept between us, and I want you to be honest.”
The rogue cocked his head as he tried to discern where this was going. “Okay…”
“Tobiano told me the Awakening changes you. He said when you die and come back, you return as someone different.”
“Mm,” Jaspur sighed and sunk from his hands down onto his elbows. Crossing his legs before the lake’s edge, he stared hard at the water as he braced for the question he now knew was coming.
“How much of the Jaycent I knew is left in you?”
A low chuckle rumbled inside the rogue’s throat.
“It’s a fair question,” she pressed, and Jaspur couldn’t help but be reminded of his conversation with Sadikaye. Did she, too, question his character?
“Aye,” he replied quickly. “The question is very fair. I only wish I knew the answer it,” he looked up at the sky, his gaze both sad and serene. “It is something I have been pondering, too. I have all the memories of my past life. The people I knew mean no less to me now than they did before, and yet…”
Levee swallowed hard as Jaspur fell back onto the grass, his hands laced behind his head like a pillow. “I do not feel things the way I once did. It is difficult to comprehend, much less explain, but if you lend me your patience I will do my best to try.”
She nodded, and Jaspur considered where he should begin. Diego inched closer, his muzzle brushing against the top of the rogue’s head as he munched his way behind the pair. Levee smiled in spite of their serious exchange, for she knew the stallion well enough to understand his eavesdropping ways.
“When I was still mortal, Tobiano preached incessantly about the big picture.”
Levee bit her lip. “I remember that…”
“I never understood it. Not until after my Awakening. When my spirit returned to my body, I felt only one purpose: to protect our people’s future. And I don’t mean just the citizens of my old kingdom, but rather the rahee and re’shahna as a whole.
“It was like waking up with a new set of eyes. Terms like gypsy, tchaka, Sarrokian, Nevahardan, prince, and civilian took on a new meaning. I saw them as imaginary divides; terms we use to define our lifestyles, and yet all too often are mistaken as our identity.
“I became distinctly aware of my own mistakes. When we were together, I was so consumed by my role as a prince that it was all I thought I was. When I lost the throne, I became the rogue, and again it defined my every action.
“Now I wonder why I ever viewed myself and others through such a narrow scope.”
“So you have a new perspective on life,” Levee reasoned.
Jaspur laughed. “And who am I, if not the product of my perspective?”
Levee squinted. Those words felt incredibly foreign coming from him. She would expect such philosophical thinking from Tobiano, to which Jaycent would have scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“You really aren’t the person I knew…” she whispered.
Jaspur’s ears drooped. Her tone held the resignation of someone coming to terms with a great loss. It pierced through the thick shell of his heart and wriggled so deep, he winced.
She was right. He was not the person she gave herself to all those years ago. Even if he tried, there was no going back. His experiences had changed him. For better or worse, he was now a stranger to her.
“Aye, you’re right,” Jaspur agreed, his voice husky with emotion. “However, I can still feel a connection to that former life. I still value the memories. I still miss the people I’ve lost. I still love—”
He cleared his throat, looking away. “I am a solitary creature by choice, Levee, but I am not cold and unfeeling. I still love, I still yearn, I still mourn. My heart is changed, but it still exists—”
“Okay,” Levee held up a hand, cutting him off.
Jaspur’s eyes flicked back to her and Diego lifted his head. The pair studied her body language with the sync of two companions who had known each other for far too long.
“Okay?” Jaspur echoed, confused.
A deep, shuddering breath told him she was doing everything in her power to remain composed. “I think… I think I get it.”
The rogue watched her, wondering if that were true. Thus far, he had been rambling in attempt to unravel the puzzle that was his new life. Even now, he felt he had yet to break the surface.
Rising to her feet, Levee dusted herself off. Jaspur didn’t want her to walk away. He didn’t want her to leave at all. Amidst everything he’d been through, his love for this woman had been the only constant. He knew she was no longer his
to care for, but he wasn’t ready for this moment to end.
He had so much left to say; so many years to catch up on. Jaspur opened his mouth, ready to say something—anything—to keep her from leaving.
But the cracking of a nearby twig interrupted him. Both of their ears twitched instinctively toward the sound. They looked over their shoulders, noting at the same time that someone new was approaching.
“I should take my leave,” Levee announced, “and you will soon take yours. Travel safely, Jaspur. Watch over Sadikaye and Deley, and return to us in one piece.”
Before he could reply, Levee darted off, taking the long route away from the path of whoever was approaching. Jaspur stared in her direction for quite some time, wishing he could read Levee’s thoughts. There was still much to mend between them.
But she had called him Jaspur, and that—he thought—was a start.
* * * * *
A minute later, Deley appeared wearing several beads of sweat and a satisfied grin. The rogue rose to his feet, burying his disappointment over Levee’s departure as he set about adjusting the latigos on Siabra’s saddle.
“You’re early,” he remarked to his apprentice as she walked up beside him. “Albeit a bit winded.”
The half-elf held her head high. “I thought you would be more impressed, considering you left me alone in camp with nothing to indicate where you went off to.”
The rogue arched a thin eyebrow, amused. “What did you want me to do, draw you a map? You knew our agenda and what road we would take to get to Moonridge. I assumed you would put two-and-two together, and here you are.”
Deley rolled her eyes. “You really have no manners at all, do you?”
“None,” Jaspur assured. “Now give me your pack.”
“What?”
The rogue held out an impatient hand. “Your bag, if you would be so kind.”
Deley shed her pack and handed it over, eyeing him all the while. Immediately, Jaspur began to strip it of its heavier items, adding them to Siabra’s saddlebags before using the latigos to attach her bedroll.
When he handed her the bag again, she slid it back on her shoulders, pleased to find it substantially lighter. Deley smiled, which in turn caused the rogue to smirk.
“What is that about?” he asked, motioning toward her grin.
“Oh, nothing…”
“It would do us no good for you to be weighed down by your pack,” he explained. “This is no small trek we are making, and I can hardly afford for you or Sadikaye to fall behind.”
“Of course,” Deley agreed, though again she sensed a concealed act of kindness in the gesture. There was more to the royal rogue than his abrasive exterior. She was growing more certain of that.
They waited together for Sadikaye, mostly in silence. Jaspur had never been one for small talk, yet the pair had started to grow comfortable with one another’s company without feeling the need to fill it with words.
Deley double-checked Siabra’s tack and hooves to keep her hands busy, her eyes monitoring the sun’s height periodically to gauge the time. It was nearly an hour before Sadikaye joined them. When he did, he appeared from the main path accompanied by Tobiano.
“My apologies for the delay,” the re’shahna explained. “Sadikaye had a long night helping Melah free the night mares of their curse, and I had many questions for him and Kalitska as to how our people should handle them in his absence.”
Sadikaye looked worn out. It was clear he hadn’t had much sleep.
“This is going to be a hard day for you,” the rogue remarked.
The boy yawned, then shrugged. “I can handle it.”
Jaspur had his doubts about that. This was not his first time navigating the road that led to Moonridge. It was an uphill hike that passed through dangerous territory he hoped to put behind them before sundown. It was a goal that would require a rigorous pace, which is why he had hoped to get an early start.
“Well I have kept you from your journey long enough,” Tobiano said. “T’is time I say goodbye. May your path be steady and the weather fair.”
The trio said farewell to the re’shahna before Jaspur asked to see Sadikaye’s pack. He stripped it of the more burdensome items just as he did with Deley, securing them to Diego’s back. Once he handed it back, the rogue began giving orders.
“You,” he pointed at Deley, “stay behind me. Siabra and Sadikaye, stay behind her. Diego will take up the rearguard. We’ll need to keep a steady pace in order to keep to our schedule.”
The stallion nodded, taking his role in stride.
“You’re assigning Diego as our rearguard?” Sadikaye looked at the rogue’s equine companion, then back to Jaspur, confused by the unorthodox arrangement.
“If your mother told you about me, she most certainly told you about Diego,” the rogue remarked. “He is more qualified for the position than you.”
“Yeah, but he also had a horn back then…” he tossed a sympathetic glance at the black stallion when he flared his nostrils. “No offense.”
Jaspur clicked his tongue. “There is far more to Diego’s strength than just a horn, Sadikaye. Do not underestimate him. Those who do often regret it.”
Deley, who had experienced firsthand the truth of that statement, nodded in agreement, which only extended Sadikaye’s confusion. He was about to inquire further, but the rogue turned and started walking, expecting the pair to do the same. Deley and Siabra fell in stride behind him, and Diego nudged the young prince forward with his nose, urging him to follow.
Together, they trudged down the path, the morning growing brighter above them. The skies were clear and the sun warmed their skin in spite of the breeze carrying fall’s nip. Though they walked at a brisk pace it was not intolerable. Today was a fine day to begin an arduous hike.
Yet Sadikaye’s demeanor did not match the weather. Deley noted how he trudged along, his lean frame echoing Jaspur’s gait in a way that was almost comical. The half-elf watched the pair, their thumbs tucked under the straps of their packs as they strode across the hard path.
Still, for all their physical similarities, Deley had come to know Sadikaye well enough to realize their personalities were quite different. Though both were stubborn almost to a fault, there was something much warmer about Sadikaye’s presence. His optimism and levity was contagious, as was his natural charm.
He held none of Jaspur’s bristling demeanor, nor his somber presence. If anything, Deley felt at ease around the rogue’s son. He had a magnetism about him that made him difficult not to like.
Seeing father and son together now, Deley couldn’t help but compare them. Jaspur’s chilling blue gaze and the sunny lager of Sadikaye’s felt like a symbolic contrast. They were dusk and dawn, the two of them; a pair of opposites that somehow balanced each other.
As the path grew steeper, it also widened, giving Deley the chance to walk beside Sadikaye. He hadn’t said a peep since they departed. Much to Jaspur’s delight, no doubt, but the half-elf could sense his need to talk.
“I thought you would be excited about this,” she whispered to Sadikaye.
Sadikaye smiled, but it was a strained expression. “While I may yearn for adventure, I can’t help but feel I’m in over my head with this one.”
A flicker of movement ahead of them caught Deley’s eye. Jaspur had cocked one ear behind his head, listening. No surprise there. Though he feigned indifference, the rogue was always aware of what transpired around him.
“I imagine it’s overwhelming, discovering you’re a prince only to have to assume the role overnight. Lucky for you, though, you have an experienced mentor,” she nodded to Jaspur, who continued to pretend he was oblivious to their discussion.
The way Sadikaye’s face distorted told her the two shared a strained relationship. Then again, was there any relationship with the rogue that didn’t have its share of tension?
“Have you ever been to Moonridge?” Sadikaye asked, changing the subject.
“Many times,�
�� Deley replied, happy to flow with the conversation. “My mother would bring me with her when she went there to study. It’s a sister city of ours, yet it’s entirely different from Whitewood.”
“How so?”
“Imagine a city built from crystal and stone,” she swept out her hand as if unveiling a painting. “Both the sun and the moon reflect differently, cascading colors like stained glass from the windows of the spire.
“Like Whitewood, magic flows through every wall, protecting the city and lending its power. Someone like you or Jaspur would do well there, considering your innate gifts.”
That seemed to pique Sadikaye’s interest. For a moment, his eyes grew distant as his imagination tried to build an illustration from her words.
However, the enchantment ended quickly, the boy’s thoughts interrupted by another inquiry. He looked at her, head cocked to the side.
“You’re royalty, aren’t you?”
Deley stiffened. Her teeth clenched together as she processed that question. She had meant to help put Sadikaye at ease, and instead he mistakenly tapped into the one thing the half-elf was reticent about.
“I’m Elessara’s daughter…” she began, her tone softening as she tried to find the right words for who—or rather what—her people considered her. “She is the king’s niece, so by default that makes me nobility.”
Sadikaye shook his head. “Here you are trying to make me feel better, and even you have a hard time admitting your own birthright?”
Deley sighed. “My case is a bit different.”
“How so?”
“I was born out of wedlock,” her voice grew ever quieter, as if to hide the truth. Jaspur’s keen ears would hear every word. She knew this, but her shame stole the confidence from her voice all the same. “My father was Rayhan Mendeley, who was betrothed to my mother. They loved each other, so I’m told, but there were some who didn’t want to see the pair together. My grandfather tried to assassinate my father, and in turn was put to death.
“The betrothal was revoked after the incident, but my mother was already pregnant with me. My people never really accepted me. Although my grandfather was to blame for his own death, he had been held in high regard by the elves of Whitewood. The assassination was out of character, and so many suspected foul play.”
The Rogue Trilogy Page 90
