by Davis Ashura
“Buckle the straps under your chin and snap the large flaps together in front of your neck,” Ward explained.
William did so, and a sense of wrongness pervaded his being. “Something’s wrong,” he said, moving to unbuckle the straps.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Ward replied. “The helmet is doing its job. It’s governing your use of lorethasra by blocking access to some of it. I know it doesn’t feel right, but don’t worry. You’ll get used to it.”
William let go of the governor’s straps and tried to ignore the sense of discomfort. He focused on his breathing.
Meanwhile, Ward paced to a dozen yards away. “Don’t drain the lorasra around us,” he said. “Pretend you can’t, or that the other person has a nomasra. I want this to be a test of your skill against mine. Ready?”
“Ready.” William’s jaw clenched. His focus tightened until he only saw his teacher.
Ward shouted, “Go!”
William sourced his lorethasra and linked all the Elements to lorasra.
Ward hurled a line of fire at him. It sizzled like hamburger on a hot skillet.
William crossed his arms and brought up a prow-shaped shield of Air and Earth. The Fire split to both sides of him. He thrust his hands forward and arrowed a whistling bolt of Air at Ward.
Ward shifted sideways. The arrow missed. Ward wrapped his hands in rustling, green ivy. His fist clenched, and lines of Earth poured from it into the ground.
The ground shifted beneath William’s feet. He stumbled. Grasping fingers of wet earth reached out for him, seeking to lock him in place.
William shoved the dirt away. It took him no more than a second to gain control of the ground, but during that time freezing water rose to his ankles. William gasped at the cold. A line of Fire, barely warm enough to cause a sunburn, touched him.
“You’re dead,” Ward said.
William warmed the water around his legs and scowled as he stepped out of the now muddy portion of the field. “Well, that sucked.”
“Too much reaction and not enough action,” Ward commented. “There are many things we can do with the Elements, but in battle most of it revolves around simple maneuvers and trickery.”
William gritted his teeth. Losing here was better than losing on Sinskrill. “Again?”
“Sure,” Ward said. “I’ve got all morning. Ready?”
“Ready.”
“Go!”
The ground trembled. William leapt upward, powered by a weave of Air. He wouldn’t be trapped twice by water and dirt. A lasso of water snapped out from Ward. William met it with a line of fire. Steam burst when the cords impacted. William landed. He controlled the ground and shoved down rising water.
A wall of fire blazed at him. William brought up a dirt shield and huddled as he waited for the blazing fire to stop. His plan ended when something punched him in the head.
“You’re dead,” Ward announced.
“What happened?” William asked in frustration. He rubbed the sore spot on his head. Even through the helmet, he’d felt that blow.
“While you stayed immobile behind your wall of dirt, I curled a bolt of Air mixed with Water and ‘killed’ you.”
William frowned. “How do I defend against that when I’m busy blocking the fire?”
“You could have used a burst of Water or Air to split the fire apart. That way, you could see what was coming next. You can’t do that behind a wall of dirt.”
“Jake did that when we were escaping from Sinskrill,” William said. “It worked then.”
“That’s because the mahavans you were fighting were probably toying with you,” Ward said. “I’ve gone against Serena. She’s good, and if the rest of her kind are anything like her . . .”
“She’s not a mahavan anymore,” William interjected.
“She’s also not a magi,” Ward countered with a scowl.
William blinked, put off by Ward’s obvious antipathy toward Serena. Pity for her rose as William thought back to the times he’d seen people eye Serena askance with curiosity, concern, and outright mistrust in their eyes. She had to have seen it, too. How did she tolerate it?
“Anyway, Serena’s good,” Ward continued, “and if she’s the measure of a mahavan, the ones you fought were toying with you on that pier. They could have defeated you a thousand ways, and they chose not to.”
William sighed, deflated by how much he still had to learn.
Master magic, master the sword, learn to sail, plan an assault . . . William wondered if he could do it all. And do it well enough to actually save Travail and Fiona. He had his doubts, but he also knew the doubts wouldn’t stop him from trying.
“Again?” Ward asked, piercing his thoughts.
William nodded.
“Ready?” Ward asked.
“Ready.”
“Go!”
The next time William lasted a bit longer, but once more, Ward easily ‘killed’ him.
“You’re dead,” Ward said.
They kept on for the next few hours, but the results remained the same. Toward the end, though, William started lasting longer in the fights than he had at the beginning.
“That’s enough,” Ward said after their last sparring session. He breathed heavily, and sweat beaded on his head. “I need a break.”
William did, too. He lifted his sticky shirt off his chest and fanned himself with it. “How’d I do?” he asked.
“Not bad for your first time,” Ward said. “You need to keep practicing, though. Every day, if you really want to go to Sinskrill.”
Serena leaned against her spade and took a swig of water. The afternoon sun beat down, and she found herself longing for the cold wind that often blew off the northern mountains of Sinskrill. Not the island itself, just some cooler weather.
Ms. Sioned grinned at her. “Don’t tell me an old mare like me can outwork a young filly like you.”
Serena shook her head ruefully. “I’d hate to think what you were like when you were young.”
“I was a ball of fire,” Ms. Sioned said with a chuckle. “Now less talking. Put more backside into your shovel.”
Serena nodded, and bit into the ground with her spade.
She and Ms. Sioned tilled Sile’s vegetable garden, cleaning and readying it for the next planting. From the farmhouse at their backs came the sound of Suzanne, Sile’s wife, singing. Sile himself was out in the fields.
Serena paused again, listening to the lovely sound.
Ms. Sioned noticed. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can have some of Suzanne’s ice cream.”
Serena grinned. “A better reason than any to finish early.” She dug in with her shovel and broke up old roots, softening the soil for the coming planting. “May I ask a question?” she asked Ms. Sioned a few minutes later.
“What’s that, dear?”
“Why are you doing this?” She gestured to the garden around them. “Sile and I can do this on our own, or ask someone to help if we really need it.”
“Because I was the one who taught Sile and his father how to farm,” Ms. Sioned replied.
“Did they have to sweet-talk you into it?” Serena teased.
“No,” Ms. Sioned said, head bent over her spade. “They were born into the teaching. Sile’s father is my son, and Sile is my grandson.”
Serena hadn’t known, and she scrutinized the old raha’asra’s features, searching for the resemblance to Sile. It was hard to see. “He never mentioned the relationship.”
Ms. Sioned chuckled. “He tends to forget simple niceties like that, doesn’t he?”
Serena smiled in fondness. She liked Sile. “Yes, he does. Half the time he can’t even remember my name.”
“How like that boy,” Ms. Sioned said with a rueful shake of her head. “I understand you’re thinking of becoming a farmer yourself.”
Serena nodded.
“It’s a good life, but are you sure it’s for you? You’ve built a boat. Maybe fishing would better suit you.”
&nb
sp; “Sailing is in my blood,” Serena said. “Not fishing.”
“And farming?” Ms. Sioned asked.
“My mother taught me to garden,” Serena said. “Farming feels like an extension of that, a way to honor her legacy. I think it’d make her happy.”
“I heard what happened to her.” Ms. Sioned hesitated, and for the first time since Serena had known her, the older woman appeared unsure of herself. “Is it true what they say about her?”
Serena knew what Ms. Sioned was really asking. Were you really forced to watch your mother whipped to death? “It’s true,” Serena said. She focused on the tilling and hoped Ms. Sioned wouldn’t ask any more questions.
“You had a hard childhood,” Ms. Sioned said, her voice soft and sympathetic.
Serena shrugged. “Maybe compared to some.” She didn’t want to talk about that awful day, and for some reason, Ms. Sioned’s sympathy annoyed her.
Their conversation faded for a few minutes before Ms. Sioned resumed it. “I don’t mean to pry, but what are your intentions toward young William Wilde?”
Serena raised her eyebrows, surprised by the question. “I don’t have any intentions,” she said. “He forgave me. That’s all I ever needed.” Which was the truth, but not the entire truth. The entire truth was something she had yet to figure out. Either that or she lacked the courage to face it.
“He once thought of you as more than a friend, did he not?”
Annoyance flickered within Serena’s heart at Ms. Sioned’s probing questions. They sounded accusatory. “He did,” she answered.
Ms. Sioned leaned against her spade. “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, my dear, but I’ve come to care quite deeply for William. I’d not see him hurt again.”
“I won’t hurt him,” Serena promised.
“See that you don’t,” Ms. Sioned said.
The unexpected hardness in the old woman’s voice was reflected by the iron in her eyes. Both were at distinct odds with her grandmotherly manner. In that moment Serena remembered one of Isha’s teachings. Never earn the wrath of a kind woman.
“Why do you think I would hurt him?” Serena asked.
“Since your arrival, I can’t say that I’ve gotten to know you much,” Ms. Sioned said. “While I don’t think you’d intentionally hurt William again, you do have a history of doing so.”
Serena wanted to roll her eyes. Others acted as if William were some kind of fragile flower and she a person with the oil and flames meant to burn him to ashes. He was much stronger than they gave him credit for, and—every bit as important—she had changed. She only wished someone other than William actually believed it.
“Why do you think you can pass judgment on me?” Serena asked. “I said I wouldn’t hurt William, and I won’t.”
“I ask you these questions because I want William to be happy,” Ms. Sioned said. “I want the same for you, and you’ll only be happy if you’re true to yourself and seek what you really want in life. Flirting with William, dancing with him, isn’t what you need. Neither does he, if he really plans on going back to Sinskrill. Until you know what you want, leave him be. Let him focus on his task, or he will surely fail. You know this.” Ms. Sioned resumed her tilling. “You would also be wise to reflect upon my advice for yourself: learn what you want in life.”
Serena tilled the garden while she considered Ms. Sioned’s words. Some might have thought them intrusive, but despite the earlier iron in her voice and features, the advice had been offered in an unexpectedly warm and generous tone. In addition, it was similar to what Lien had told her a few months back.
What did Serena want for herself?
Ever since Lien had first posed the question, Serena had wondered about it. Thus far, the answers she’d arrived at didn’t entirely satisfy her, but she said them aloud anyway. “I want to save my grandmother and Travail from their enslavement in Sinskrill. I want to see my sister grow up happy and safe. That’s all.”
“That’s not all,” Ms. Sioned said. “That’s only part of what you want. You’ve not mentioned what you want for yourself.”
What did she want?
Saving Travail and Fiona. Raising Selene. Spending her time farming, sailing, or surfing. Add in the occasional game of enrune . . . Were those the entirety of her desires? Was there nothing else? What did she want for herself, and more importantly, what did she want to give others?
“I don’t know,” Serena said. “I don’t know if I ever will.”
Ms. Sioned shook her head in disgust. “The ignorance and arrogance of youth.”
DIFFERENT TEACHINGS
February 1988
* * *
William joined Jake and Jason and a crowd of hundreds as they overflowed the Village Green in preparation for the Chinese New Year. Electricity coursed through the throng, and William buzzed with the excitement of it. He imagined Times Square might look and feel like this on New Year’s Eve . . . if Times Square had glorious waterfalls, majestic, awe-inspiring statues of magi from throughout history, and a massive escarpment that overlooked the Pacific Ocean. Even those who didn’t want to deal with the hassle of the horde up on Clifftop held celebrations in their homes every bit as raucous as the one up here.
“Follow me.” Jason called to get their attention and gestured. He led them off the Village Green and into an alley, where the noise rapidly diminished. They could actually speak to one another without shouting.
William breathed out in gratitude. While he had liked the energy of the New Year’s crowd, the tumult and the music blaring from the gazebo made it hard to think. “That’s better,” he said.
Jason pointed. “It’s Lien and Daniel.”
William searched where Jason gestured. Lien and Daniel faced one another and slowly swayed in time to the music.
“You think they’ve finally fessed up and admitted they’re seeing each other in a romantical kind of way?” Jake asked.
“Why are you interested in their love life?” William asked.
“I’m not,” Jake said.
“Yes, you are,” William said. “I swear, Mr. Zeus is right, you are a gossip.”
“Jason’s the one who brought it up,” Jake protested.
“Never mind what I brought up,” Jason interrupted. “Check out how Jean-Paul and Thu are dancing.”
They looked, and Jake laughed. “Thu is graceful, but Jean-Paul dances like he’s having a seizure.”
“Lien and Daniel are coming over,” William said.
“What are you guys talking about?” Lien asked when she and Daniel arrived. They held hands, and William caught the knowing glance shared by Jason and Jake.
“People who shouldn't be dancing in public,” William answered.
“You mean, like you and Serena?” Lien asked with an arch of her eyebrows.
“What do you mean?” William asked, trying not to blush and not knowing why Lien's question bothered him so much.
“Speaking of, there she is," Daniel said, giving William a nudge and a wink. “You going to ask her to dance?”
William feigned a look of cool unconcern. After he’d finally relaxed, he’d enjoyed dancing with Serena at the tree lighting, but he didn’t want to seem too eager in front of the others.
“I think he does,” Daniel said with a knowing leer. “Maybe he’s thinking about the horizontal bop.”
“Gross!” Lien exclaimed.
Daniel spent the next few seconds apologizing profusely to Lien, trying to mollify her. Meanwhile, William rolled his eyes and sighed heavily, as if he needed an extra dose of patience to deal with Daniel. However, his attention remained focused on Serena.
She hadn’t seen them yet, and he watched as she swayed through the crowd. She danced amongst them, gently twisting to avoid everyone. Her movements were graceful, and her lime-green dress hugged her form and swirled about her legs. She smiled every now and then, her expression open and warm.
He sighed in appreciation.
Several weeks after the Ch
inese New Year, Serena and William biked the gravel trail toward Rukh and Jessira’s cabin. They talked about Selene, his training, and Blue Sky Dreamer, but she avoided any discussion about the Chinese New Year. She’d seen William there, but he’d been surrounded by his friends.
Normally that wouldn’t have stopped her from approaching, but something in William’s features when he’d looked her way had given her pause. She hadn’t been entirely sure what she’d seen. She still wasn’t. But whatever the reason, in that moment Serena had recalled Ms. Sioned’s admonition not to hurt William.
Serena was glad to have William as a friend, but she couldn’t let him think there might be something more between them. He planned on going back to Sinskrill, and she didn’t want to be the distraction that caused him to fail at his mission. Maybe afterward—
She cut off her line of thinking.
“This is an unexpected surprise,” Rukh said, standing on the front porch, as they approached the cabin.
Jessira stood beside him and smiled. She had her honey-gold hair pulled back in a ponytail. “But a welcome one.”
As always, Serena found herself intimidated by Jessira. It wasn’t simply because of her features, which were striking if not beautiful. Nor was it her physical presence—taller than most men and obviously fit and strong. It was her completeness, the manner in which she carried herself. Jessira moved with unmistakable self-confidence, a certitude in herself and her skills that couldn’t be overlooked. However, rather than arrogance, Jessira’s features usually held kindness as well as an offer of friendship.
In many ways, Jessira was the kind of woman Serena wanted to become.
“What brings you out here?” Jessira asked.
“I was hoping to train with you,” William answered.
“It took you long enough to accept our offer,” Rukh said.
William smiled wryly. “I’ve been busy. You know, mastering the Elements, learning the skills of a raha’asra. That sort of thing.”
“Of course,” Rukh replied, with a wry smile of his own.
