by Lexy Wolfe
The Dusvet turned away, his serious tones reflecting his self-recrimination. "It is true that Guardians suffer when manipulating temporal energy, especially when outside of the Timeless One's territory. I should have considered the potential backlash for them." He regarded his students grimly. "It is why I have aged during our travels, and why I would have died if not for Taylin and the Swordanzen pulling me back. But I had not reached beyond my limits as they had, I had five hundred years to fight against." With considerable humility, he turned to the younger Illaini Magus. "How long do you feel they will require to fully recover, Master Terrence?"
The young Forentan man looked uncomfortable with the title, not meeting Almek's eyes. "It is difficult to say. The use of magic is not very much different from other skills. Greater use increases native capacity and the ability to recover faster. Master Ash has a greater capacity for Forentan magic than anyone in known history. And I hazard that he's likely an acceptable capacity with temporal magic, if he was using it without realizing it before you came to Forenta. For him, a week, perhaps two.
"But Mistress Storm... Desanti are unable to touch magic at all. My ancestors ensured that. So she would only have the capacity for time magic. Unless being able to see temporally stretches her?" When Jaison shook his head grimly, Terrence sighed. "She is a novice by comparison. I don't... know."
Jaison looked troubled. "Adepts must be carefully guided to ensure they do not endanger themselves or others by overextending themselves. Illaini Magus Ash's previous manipulations are likely what spares him the amount of torture Storm is suffering." He looked to Almek. "I fear that the Githalin Swordanzen woman may not endure, even with Taylin's skills, Dusvet."
What composure Terrence had managed to hold together crumbled at Jaison's opinion. The Forentan man snarled, "Master Ash will not lose Storm! She will live. She has to!" Turning away, he stalked to his room. Mureln shook his head at Emil and Emaris to let him alone for now.
Lyra started to reach out to Terrence consolingly when Skyfire made a pained sound, staggering. "Skyfire!" With determination, the slight young woman helped him to a chair in the main room. The others gathered around him in concern.
A grey cast overlaying his dark brown complexion, Skyfire looked up, lips pressed together. "Taylin's battle resumes." Grimacing, he tensed to the point every tendon seemed ready to snap. After several agonizing minutes, he abruptly sagged, panting heavily.
"If Taylin draws from both of you," Mureln started, going silent at Skyfire's headshake.
"Only I support her healing while she tends to them. And the Totani..." He swallowed hard. "They support my life." Leaning back, he groaned, "Kailee's tail, it hurts." He slit his eyes open when he felt a cup bumping his hand and met Mureln's eyes.
"We will wait with you," the bard stated simply. Managing the faintest of smiles, Skyfire nodded, draining the cup of alcohol. Mureln caught it before it fell when the pain surged again.
Chapter 7
The sky beyond the thick glass panes in the roof had darkened to night as the hours passed. The remaining members of the group sat at the table of pristine white marble, watching over Skyfire with deeply worried expressions. Even the hulking Emaris ignored the food that had been brought for them.
Emil jumped up when tension rippled across the Desanti's face. "Emaris! Better get that glass out o' his hand before he does shatter another'n. He already bled enough as is." The larger gypsy nodded, leaning over to pry the glass out of Skyfire's hand. When the tension drained away, Skyfire sagged limply.
"Oh, Skyfire." Lyra hugged him tightly, hiding her face against his neck.
Smiling weakly, Skyfire raised his bandaged hand to stroke her hair. "I am fine," he murmured reassuringly. That only served to make Lyra's embrace tighten even more. He accepted the refilled glass from Mureln and drained it without argument before sighing, his head dropping back against the chair with a dull thunk, his breaths wheezing rasps.
"That round did not seem to last as long," Mureln offered hopefully.
"It did not," Skyfire confirmed. "Nor as painful." He sighed, closing his eyes as he rested his cheek atop Lyra's head. "I do not think I have ever been so exhausted having done so little." The others traded amazed looks that the Desanti did not consider sacrificing his life energy as an effort. A flicker of tension crossed his features and he opened his eyes. "Kailee says Storm is past the worst of the affliction. The chlayxin has ebbed past where it could be fatal to her."
"Knowing Taylin, she will continue until she is satisfied Storm is well out of danger." Mureln pushed himself to his feet. "You should get some sleep, man. Or at least, try to. You look like you're ready to fall over." The Vodani bard traded worried looks with Emil and Emaris as the gypsies got to their feet. Emaris went to lend a shoulder to Skyfire.
Emil looked at Lyra and said, "Go 'head an' take some food so he can eats when he be feelin' more up to it. I'll carry th' drink." The slight Forentan girl nodded, brushing a tendril of pale blonde hair out of her eyes as she did as the wiry gypsy suggested.
Having reemerged from his seclusion to sit with the others, Terrence sat at the table alone as the others helped Skyfire to his and Lyra's room, lost in thought as his fingers idly played with his wineglass. He closed his eyes as he felt Petal shift in his pocket to nestle closer to him and the Knowing One's gentle touch consoling him.
"Master Terrence," Almek said with quite humility.
Terrence's expression tightened when Almek said his name. He raised hard blue eyes to regard him, his voice icy. "Yes, Dusvet?"
Almek tilted his head, concern marking his features. "Relax. You should be pleased that Storm and Ash have pulled through."
Terrence's frown deepened. "How can you think I am not pleased? Do you think because I am Forentan, I am so heartless I would stop caring about them simply because the Knowing One declared me a master and Illaini Magus?"
Almek raised a hand to silence Jaison before he rebuked Terrence for disrespecting him. "Of course not, Terrence." The white-haired man sighed. "It seems I am the source of your discontent."
Hesitating only a moment, Terrence agreed flatly. "You and everyone in this Sharindel are, Dusvet Guardian. We may be masters, but we are looked down on and dismissed out of hand by mere students and servants. I tried warning you about the backlash, but you got wrapped up in social pleasantries and completely disregarded me." He held up his right hand, the sleeve falling to his elbow to expose the forest green and gold eternal braid that shimmered in the light. "The Knowing One chose me to serve Her. I cannot serve Her if no one is listening to me! Just because none of the people here give a damn about any of us--"
"I never said I didn’t give a damn," Jaison snapped back, his olive complexion darkening with anger.
Terrence leaned forward and responded in similar tones, "Your words mean little. Your actions speak louder than any words. You do not want us here. We are outsiders. Foreigners." Jaison sat back, blinking in surprise at the nearly tangible hostility. Terrence got to his feet. "I expect such attitudes in Forenta and Sevmana both. It is a grievous flaw of character of those born of the Forenten line." His bitter disappointment carried in his voice. "But to see it in a Vodani? I know what to expect from Fortress now. Thank you for that lesson, Unsvet."
Without waiting to be dismissed, Terrence stalked down the hall to his room, passing Mureln and the gypsies as they were returning. The three men only offered the Guardians curious looks before sitting down in silence to wait for Taylin to finish her work.
Chapter 8
Several hours later, Taylin emerged from Storm and Ash's room. The hall was lit only by the light of the rising moons through the glass panels of the ceiling. She leaned against the wall with a sigh to get her bearings. When a hand touched her arm, she startled. "Mureln?" With a relieved smile, she touched his cheek tenderly. "Beloved, what are you still doing awake? You should be sleeping!"
Mureln smiled, his worry plain in the depths of his eyes as he reached up to brush
a tendril of hair back behind her ear. "I'm just waiting for you, pretty lady." He looked at her searchingly, his smile fading. "You are exhausted." He could not help but touch her swollen belly. The flutter of movement reassured him their child was unharmed. "How are they?"
"Alive. Resting peacefully. More than that, I am too tired to see," Taylin informed him wearily. "I expect they will sleep for at least two days. It will be at least a week until they have recovered enough to function. Longer to fully recover." She yawned. "I'll be able to tell more once they are awake and any residual effects can be assessed." She smiled gently when Mureln touched her belly again, caressing his cheek lovingly. "Our son is fine as the Swordanzen promised he would be through the protection of this blood crystal."
"I know," Mureln whispered, kissing her forehead lightly. "I have never been more grateful to the Desanti's Totani for creating the blood crystal that protects you both while we watched over Skyfire. Or felt more guilty for how much he suffered on our behalf."
Taylin closed her eyes, hiding her face against his neck. "Goddess, how could I forget their suffering..."
Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her towards their room. "We tried to get Skyfire drunk to blunt the pain, but I do not know if it even made a dent. It took a surprising amount of the strongest spirits even to start affecting him. If it did affect him at all. Desanti are odd when it comes to toxins." She snorted at the reminder of the Desanti pair's near death when attacked by forest sprites. "Finally got him and Lyra to bed a couple hours ago."
Taylin rested her head on his shoulder. "You didn't make Lyra have to get Skyfire to bed by herself, did you?"
The bard chuckled quietly. "Of course not. Emil and Emaris helped. He's not a small man and poor Lyra is a mere wisp next to him." He looked up to meet Jaison's eyes as the man approached them. Without a word, the Unsvet opened the bedroom door. The bard nodded mutely in gratitude and carried Taylin inside. Jaison quietly shut the door after the pair. Pensively, he stood there, tracing the elegant design carved into the door frame.
"Do you still have doubts, Jaison?" Almek asked from the archway to the common room. "My students have proven they are not selfish egocentrics as many warned masters coming here would be. They will give of themselves selflessly, regardless of their race."
Annoyance flashed across Jaison's dusky features. "Yes, I still have doubts." Returning to the main room, the men sat at one of the benches by the large garden pool, flickers of fish moving against the luminescence of nocturnal water plants. "But not the ones I had at first." His green eyes rested on his hands for several moments. "Not about their abilities or their dedication to our mistress's ideals. Their clarity of purpose is unquestionable. And I have never seen such strong ties between people, especially of so many different races. It is very rare."
Almek studied the younger man. "So what is bothering you, Jaison?"
He looked up, green eyes flashing with emotion. "Is it wise to encourage this blending of talents?" He held up his hands before Almek could speak. "I am not saying what they have accomplished is wrong at all, Dusvet. Gods, they saved your life!
"But masters touching multiple energies... there have never been any such as them before. And the god-touched? If they succeed in earning Her blessings, they would be beholden to two gods. It is a change that will shake Fortress to its foundations." Jaison said in a low voice, "Being a Guardian is all many of us have. It made us... special in a world where those without any talent are invisible and those born of two nations are scorned."
"You are not invisible to those you make yourself known to."
He fixed Almek with a steady gaze. "There will be those who will be threatened by them. How will their inclusion change the order of things within our ranks? For good or ill, this will set Fortress into a state of chaos."
Almek made a thoughtful noise in his throat, watching a fish swim by as he rubbed his chin. "You raise a fair point, Jaison. I have no answers for you. But they would not exist if they were not needed, and talents as strong as theirs cannot go untrained. You know very well the danger in that." Jaison grunted in agreement. "Nor does it make any other Guardian less important. All are needed, all have a place."
The Unsvet sighed heavily. "You know there are those who cannot sense what you have, what you have shown others of us who can. Or they are purposely turning a blind eye to it because..." He shook his head. "Because they are afraid of losing what they have achieved, forgetting their duty. Or they are past being able to perform their duties." He sat up, holding his hands out. "Hostility towards the Desanti is as common here as out there. Perhaps moreso because of the accusations against them. Besides betraying the Desanti edict that no Desanti leaves Desantiva, it is why I still hide my father's heritage. The Swordanzen will not be welcomed with open arms, no matter that Fortress needs them to restore the balance in the land."
"That is why I need you to help to teach Storm and Skyfire, Jaison," Almek stated softly. "Please. You alone of all living Guardians share the native perceptions a Desanti has."
Jaison was silent for a time, looking over his shoulder towards the sleeping rooms. His expression was filled with uncertainty. After a time, he finally nodded reluctantly. "I will do what I can, Dusvet. But I cannot make any promises." He looked in the direction of the Swordanzen's rooms. "Except that I will try."
Chapter 9
Caught by the faceted glass windows, the early morning sun bathed the common room in an ethereal glow, as if the polished marble was lit from within. The sounds of water flowing down the waterfall fountain were joined by quiet footsteps. Wearing only his tunic and trousers, Terrence emerged from his room. He paused by Storm and Ash's room, touching the door for several moments before moving on.
Expression troubled, he sat cross-legged by the large pool. He held up his right arm to regard the ornate design of his eternal braid in silence. He grimaced slightly, putting a hand over his right shoulder as pain shot through the Totani mark. "Dzee," he whispered softly, both in greeting and acknowledgement of the Totani's presence.
You are troubled, Sumyr. The wyvern's voice in his mind was barely louder than a summer breeze through leaves.
"I am, Dzee. I... I'm worried about Mistress Storm." The young man closed his eyes. "Even as much as she has tried to hide it, I know magic frightens her horribly, whether Guardian or Forentan. Her first attempt to touch temporal energy consciously was catastrophic. This will do nothing to assuage her fears."
You are correct, the wyvern Totani murmured. While Storm is not without fear, little of it affects her as deeply as that of the more mystical arts. She only uses Desanti blood magic because that comes from within. Desanti regard it as more natural than Forenten manipulations.
Terrence closed his eyes. "She will not want to touch it again, even though it will be necessary as a Guardian. And how could anyone blame her? Her first time wielding it nearly... killed her. And Ash!"
Her near death has everything to do with her trying to run when she can barely walk. Dzee seemed to smile reassuringly in his mind. Storm will survive, Sumyr. She has three bonds that give her strength to go on. Terrence looked upwards, his bewilderment plain. It may seem minor to you, but the bond to the drizar is as important as the lifemate bond to Ash and the Soul Oath she gave the Dusvet Guardian. But she will not want to touch time magic again. You are right in that.
"When a Forentan has native strength but lacks control, their tie to magic is blunted so they are not a danger during their lifetime." Terrence looked up as Petal emerged from where she slept in one of the thick plants, circling him. "But it is different for Guardians. I can sense that what makes them Guardians is not just connection to the part of their soul that wields magic. It is woven through every fiber of their being. What makes Storm a Guardian is such an integral part of what she is. If she could not learn to control it, the only option would be to still the gift. I believe it would kill her if they attempted to suppress it."
Yes. The possibility that she would suf
fer a humiliation so like what all Desanti had suffered troubles us all, including our lord the Raging One. She needs you, Sumyr. She needs your faith in her to believe in herself once more.
Startled, Terrence sat up straighter. "Me? Why me? I am not nearly as... as important to her as Ash or Almek. She swore an oath to Almek. Ash is her lifemate! Even Skyfire is more to her as her th'yala. I am just--"
You are very important to Storm, but for reasons she does not know, nor can I tell you. Instinctively, she trusts you. Perhaps more than anyone else because you are Forentan with no reason to possess your unbiased love of Desantiva, yet you still do.
Terrence made a face, holding his hand up to the forest sprite, the tiny creature accepting the offered perch. "Dzee, Storm would never believe anything I told her. Not right now. I have to believe in myself first, for her to believe anything I tell her about magic." He reached up to scratch the small creature between her wings absently. "And that is hard to do when everyone still sees a naïve, young apprentice." He sighed softly. "Sometimes I feel that is all I am still in everyone's eyes."
Not everyone's eyes.
"No. Except for Storm and Skyfire. They treat me as a respected master." He closed his eyes. "It is strange only the Desanti have embraced these changes within me without question or hesitation. Of everyone, I thought they would be the last to accept any changes."
Everyone believes Desanti hate change, but that is the furthest from the truth, Dzee said gently. Desanti have embraced change as a part of the world around them. They have formalized the normal changes that come from the natural progression of life through rituals, from birth until death. The problem is, within Desantiva, there are no new changes. Everything that happens, has happened before, will happen again. That is what most troubles Storm and Skyfire. Unexpected change, not change itself.
Storm and Skyfire recognize you for what you are because in their eyes, you have endured the trials that have named you adult, have named you master, and have named you Githalin and Illaini. Dzee pointed out, The knives our Lord gave you and the others are called Naming Blades because they acknowledge you as adults to the Desanti people, and it names you one of the Desanti people. That acceptance of someone not born Desanti is something else that the people will struggle to accept.
