by Lexy Wolfe
"While I do hold hope they will earn both colors as I had, my desire for them to endure full training has nothing to do with my expectations. The Forenten people had become so withdrawn they don't realize how narrow their view of the world has become. On top of that, Storm and Skyfire are representative of their people, Jaison, and they have long revered Guardians as near gods because those of us who go there are known across generations. To them, we are as immortal as gods. You know that such idealization is dangerous both for the Desanti and Fortress."
"Desanti are admittedly naïve, but not as naïve as you seem to believe, Dusvet. You have been the only Guardian to go to Desantiva in recent years," Jaison pointed out. "You have earned their respect and trust. It does not mean all Guardians have." The Unsvet clenched his fists and glared at Almek accusingly. "Why didn't you tell me about the na'Zhekali tribe?! I would not have been so harsh with her if I had known my father's tribe was gone!"
"Whatever tragedy befell the na'Zhekali had been since the time before last that I had been to Desantiva. And I did not remember you and Storm shared the same tribal heritage. You rarely spoke of them at all." Almek put a hand on Jaison's shoulder apologetically. "I remembered only that you were half Desanti when I first encountered you, not what tribe you were kin to. Your appearance is purely Vodani. Believe me, if I'd recalled, I would have told you, Jaison."
Jaison exhaled heavily as he admitted, "I doubt I would have believed you anyway." He covered his face briefly in grief. "I cannot believe... my father's tribe... the na'Zhekali are gone. Of all the tribes that have come and gone, Dusvet, to have the most ancient of them... the first tribe... vanish! It is a tragedy there are no words for." He squared his shoulders with renewed purpose. "I promise you, Almek, I will ensure both Githalin's training is untainted." He looked in the direction Ash had stalked off in. "Somehow."
Chapter 17
The sound of light knocking roused Skyfire from fitful slumber. He looked down at Lyra nestled next to him, gently tracing the lines around her eyes that reflected her nightmare-induced exhaustion. Reluctantly getting out of bed, the Desanti man tugged the blanket up to cover the young woman's nudity. Mindful of most reactions when he'd not be wearing clothes more familiar to the north, he tugged on his trousers before answering the door.
Skyfire blinked in surprise at the man standing outside his room, abruptly awake. "Lord Ash? What is wrong?"
The mage's voice was quiet and subdued. "May I come in, Skyfire? I am in need of your advice." Skyfire nodded, standing to the side to allow the Forentan man entrance before shutting the door behind him. Ash looked over Lyra, then closed his eyes as he averted his gaze from the strain vivid on her fair complexion, as bothered as Storm that he had no power to protect the others from the nightmares that plagued them. "Do all Desanti sleep so warm?" When Skyfire arched an eyebrow at the question, Ash pointed out Lyra's bare back when she rolled over. "I have to sleep in the nude as well when with Storm."
"How do you know Lyra and I have not... how do your people put it? We have not been intimate together?" Skyfire wondered in some perplexity.
"She still carries herself with an air of innocence. You treat her with the care of holding something fragile and precious." Ash's lips curled in a brief, faint smile. "Just because I am Forentan, does not mean I did not learn how to read subtleties in people. It's essential to survive Forentan high society since few ever speak plainly." His smile faded far too quickly. "Skyfire, I apologize for disrupting your rest," the man began.
Skyfire waved a dismissive hand. "You need not apologize, Lord Ash. You are always welcome." Golden brown eyes looked over the mage critically. "No wonder Storm has been so out of sorts lately. You have not gotten enough rest since we have gotten here."
"No one has." Ash sighed heavily. "Except for Taylin who had already been tested, and Storm, but the more she worries about the rest of us... I worry someone will die or be maimed because of her temper."
"I have worried about you and the others, too." Skyfire looked over at Lyra with concern. "Enduring days upon days without sleep is difficult but not unusual for Desanti, but it has grown more difficult." He sighed heavily. "I dislike when she sleeps so deeply that I must check to assure myself she lives. Even Emil and Emaris don't want to go out and gamble anymore. It is just not right."
Ash managed a wan smile. "You sound like Storm. Even though she was the one who nearly died, she..." He shook his head as his voice caught in his throat.
"Ash," Skyfire said in a low voice. "I know you would not have come to me if there was not something deeply troubling you." Putting his hand on Ash's shoulder, he said quietly, "I would give my life to help you for as many times as you have saved my th'yala's life. And I would give my soul to help her and her lifemate."
The mage looked at Skyfire with a mixture of bewilderment and amusement. "I do not know if I will ever understand you Desanti," Ash confessed. "That you could love someone so much that you could share the one you love with another... it is not something that would happen in Forenta normally, I assure you."
"Do not try to understand it, then." Skyfire pulled out one of the two chairs by the small table in the room, pouring himself a cup of water. "Just accept that it is. Lyra loves Storm as much as I do. Perhaps the same way that I do." He looked towards the bed with a fond smile for the sleeping Forentan woman. "It does not tarnish the love Lyra and I have for each other. I do not know if Lyra and I will be lifemates as you and Storm are, but I would do anything for her." Returning his intent golden brown eyes to Ash, he asked, "What's wrong?"
Ash poured a cup of water for himself, sighing heavily. "For all that we are lifemates, despite how much we can share through our bond, I do not understand Storm. We are still... all but strangers to each other. Sometimes, I feel as though I understand nothing at all."
"Has something happened since her 'discussion' with Unsvet Jaison?"
"It isn't that something new happened, but that I just do not understand what happened to begin with. All I know is she is upset. Extremely upset. The only time I have known her to be this incoherently distressed was when we arrived at the site where the Vi'disa tribe had died. The moment Almek forbade her from killing Terrence when Dzee claimed him.
"I know Unsvet Jaison upset her, but I do not know what he did or said that could so affect her. She will not tell me and her thoughts and emotions are like the desert ragewinds."
"Ah, yes, the ragewinds. Howling until they deafen you. Cutting until you bleed. Blinding you to everything but their fury." Skyfire shrugged. "I have told you often she was named true by Thandar the Golden. Our Swordanzen names reflect an aspect of ourselves and our primary gifts." He smiled fondly. "I love her for it. As confusing as she can be, Storm's emotions are as honest as they are fierce, as close to our god's as a mortal could be. Even before she accepted me as th'yala, I would have given up my soul if she asked. Few are as pure in honor and intent as Storm is."
Ash regarded Skyfire for a time. "You love Storm so much. How could you let her go?"
Skyfire chuckled quietly. "Who says I have left her go? If we were not Swordanzen, I would be happy to call her my sister and you my brother." He put his hand over his heart. "Family protects its own."
"And why can't you call her sister?"
"We are Swordanzen." Skyfire stated blandly, shrugging. "Since there were Swordanzen, the bonds of tribal bayuli-volsha have been forbidden to those who walk the Path of the Sword. All we can have between us is th'yala. It will not be this way forever, because I will not always be her student." Before Ash could ask him to explain what he meant, the Desanti man changed the subject. "You usually speak with the bard when your heart is troubled. Is something wrong between you and Storm that you come to me?"
"Nothing is wrong between us," Ash replied, eyes on the water in his cup. "But I am deeply worried about her. She is in pain. She doesn't speak of it, but whatever the Unsvet said to her... they did not simply reopen old wounds. I do not think they had ever closed
, they were just hidden."
With a pained expression, Ash clenched his empty hand in worried frustration, his voice soft. "Those unseen wounds have been bleeding for a long time, and I only recently caught a glimpse of them." He looked up at Skyfire. "I thought it peculiar she was the only one unbothered by the nightmares, but now... Something else tortures her. Something that pales to anything born of nightmares. Something she had managed to keep hidden from me until Unsvet Jaison said something that unleashed what she had kept hidden."
"So, that was what he touched." Skyfire was thoughtful before he met Ash's eyes, his expression grave. "To even begin to understand Storm's pain, you must know her past, Lord Ash. And you must understand our people, and Swordanzen, and why we are... different from all other nations."
Silent, Skyfire considered his words. "All Desanti are born sharing what we call bayuli-volsha. It is a spiritual bond that allows us to feel each other's hearts. There is no hiding our emotions from one another for long within the tribe. It requires rituals to change them, and rituals to end them. But we cannot long endure without that bond."
Ash turned his right hand up, looking at the star-shaped scar in his palm thoughtfully. "Bayuli-volsha, you call it? My brother Nolyn said that is what Storm called what he and I had created through this." He turned his hand to display the scar to Skyfire. The Desanti man look briefly surprised, then studied it for a few moments before continuing to speak.
"But neither of you were born with this bond as Desanti are. The bayuli-volsha is both our blessing and our curse, because it is the price we paid for our physical prowess," the Desanti man stated evenly. "Desanti share it with the land as well, though the bond between tribemates is stronger than with anyone or anything else. So strong, sometimes we are deaf to all but our tribe." Skyfire closed his eyes in remembered pain. "When one becomes Swordanzen, that tie is broken so we can sense the soul of the land, sense all tribes, all life, equally. When we say we belong to all tribes and to none, it is beyond words.
"And it is why Swordanzen rarely last longer than five years. To be without the companionship of the tribe is... painful. They either give up the sword or die because they no longer have the focus needed to survive."
He closed his eyes for several moments before draining his glass and refilling it. Remaining respectfully silent, Ash waited for Skyfire to continue, a slight frown of concern creasing his brow. "My words... cannot give the full measure of the burden Storm's soul bears. But perhaps they will be enough for you to begin to understand." He looked up to meet Ash's clear azure eyes. "You know Sumalen killed her tribe when she was barely six summers old."
Ash nodded, expression grim. "Much as my family was killed when I was five."
"Not the same thing. I do not belittle your own tragedy, Lord Ash. But Storm's tribe, the na'Zhekali that was first tribe, was also one of the largest. It used to number nearly fifty people entirely. The bayuli-volsha allows each person within a tribe to feel one another, from birth until death. Their joys and despairs, pleasures and pains. It is part of what binds us together. We live for one another and through each other.
"When the na'Zhekali were being murdered, Thandar rescued Storm from physical harm, taking her away from the killings. But she felt each tlisan, each tribal brother and sister, die. She could see them die here." He tapped his temple. "And near the end, she suffered physically as her body echoed the injuries of those last deaths." Ash stared at Skyfire with a growing sense of horror. "She was merely a child when she lived through each tortured death of every member of her tribe. Only six summers old. She lives with the memory of that day. The pain is as fresh as if it had only just happened because to let it go is to forget them. But doing so, she risks falling into those memories, reliving it as though it were happening all over again."
"Dear gods," Ash whispered. "I had no idea..."
"I would not have known, either," Skyfire confessed. "Storm does not share her pain willingly. But my trainer Chase had been her th'yala. They thought I slept when they spoke about it once." He closed his eyes. "Being Swordanzen is not simply about breaking your ties to your tribe. It is about becoming connected to all of Desantiva. Every human, every beast, every plant, to be able to feel the balance within you. To feel each birth. And each death."
"That would mean the Vi'disa... the other Swordanzen..." Ash closed his eyes, shaking his head. "Her th'yala. She felt their deaths." He closed his eyes, looking away in shame. "I was such a callous bastard towards her when she felt Almek had betrayed her."
"The ability to feel others suffering is within you, too, Lord Ash," Skyfire pointed out gently. "Not to the degree we Desanti have it, of course, but it is there." Ash looked skeptical. The Desanti man did not smile. "Does it not pain you to see others in pain? Does it not drive you to try and spare them? You were harsh to her, yes, but only harshness could have gotten through the storm of her emotions. You know this. You are not an inherently cruel man, but sometimes cruelty is the only knife that can cut through emotional ragewinds."
Looking over towards Lyra as the young woman shifted in her sleep, the mage frowned more to himself. "Perhaps," Ash allowed, speaking slowly. He looked at Skyfire. "How do I spare Storm her pain?"
"You cannot spare Storm something she will not let go." Skyfire shrugged one shoulder. "And you will not be able to convince her because as painful as the memories are, they are all she has left of the na'Zhekali, her last ties to her family. The only thing you can do for her is just to be there for her, Lord Ash, to keep her in the present so she does not relive them."
He leaned forward, refilling Ash's cup. "Storm is a strong woman. Anyone the Totani Name as Swordanzen must be strong. But at times, the strong need someone to be strong for them. Few Swordanzen last longer than five summers because it is..." He went silent, frowning as he searched for the words. "Difficult. The weight of Desantiva is very heavy, especially to bear it alone.
"And now, it is not simply Desantiva we feel, but life wherever we find ourselves. Vodanya. Sevmana. Forenta. Since we left Desantiva, they are all here within us now." He put his hand over his heart. "We Githalin... are not like normal Swordanzen. We cannot simply give up the sword when it becomes too much. We are what we are until we die."
"The more I understand of your people, Skyfire, I do not know if I envy you or pity you." He looked at the eternal braid on his right forearm. "Your world is painted in blacks and whites. You see everything as right or wrong with little doubts. We Forenten muddy the waters and make everything shades of grey."
Skyfire chuckled quietly. "Forenten seem happy and able to live lives of solitude. It is not so for Desanti. We must have community, even for those of us who walk the Path of the Sword. When Storm chose to follow Lord Almek and leave Desantiva, I knew then my path was alongside her, because she needed the company of at least one Desanti in the outlands, and no other would dare disobey the edict that Desanti do not leave Desantiva. We will need each other until we can fully embrace the world beyond Desantiva as our own. You see, Storm and I keep each other sane."
Ash frowned slightly. "You and Storm will... go insane?"
"Not necessarily," Skyfire replied simply. He smiled faintly. "We are not gods. We all will cross the sword someday. It is the life of the Swordanzen to balance on the edge." Both men looked over as Lyra began to rouse.
"I will leave you two," Ash said as he rose.
Skyfire stood as well, putting a hand on Ash's shoulder. "Ash. I know it is not a Forentan custom, but Desanti often find comfort sleeping with others near. You are both welcome to share our company if you wish." He smiled faintly at the Forentan woman. "I know Lyra misses Storm's company. She frets so much over her."
Ash opened his mouth, then closed it. He finally smiled a little. "Perhaps, my friend. That is a concept I... have difficulty accepting easily. I am very solitary in nature." He waved a hand. "Go. Lyra needs you."
"And Storm needs you." Ash nodded and headed out of the room.
Chapter 18
The servant looked up and caught it, walking back over to the table to put it back. "Would you like something to drink, Emil?" she asked, completely unflustered over his attempted vandalism. "It might help."
"What do ye care?" Emil asked sullenly. "All we be t'ye people be curiosities inna cage fer ye t' poke sticks at."
"I care because it is my job to care." The servant, a tall woman with raven black hair, dark skin and darker eyes, regarded him for a time. "You're from one of the northern clans, aren't you? Morlaiz, if I had to guess."
"Eh?" The unexpected comment shook Emil out of his grumpiness as he took a closer look at the woman. "Yer gypsy born? How come I dinna notice ye b'fore now?"
"Because I only just started working here a few days ago. I had to negotiate to be assigned to this hostel. Many covet the opportunity to serve the Dusvet Guardian and getting anyone to give it up is nearly impossible." She shrugged, tossing her long hair back over her shoulder. "You didn't notice me probably because no one takes much notice of anything or anyone around them during the time of nightmares. I feared I would never get to meet you before the tests ended and the Guardians whisked all of you away to Sanctuary." She offered her hand to him. "Itena of the Suthernali clan."
"I ha' not heard a Suthernali accent fer years. Ye be hidin' it well." Emil attempted to smile roguishly as he took her hand to kiss her knuckles gallantly. When Itena chuckled, his smile faltered and he looked away. "What am I thinkin'? A gypsy girl'd know all my tricks."
