by Lexy Wolfe
"Then maybe you should try learning some new ones," Itena suggested mildly. Leaning against the edge of the table casually, she looked down at Emil, worry darkening her features. "I was told the nightmares started over seven days ago. I thought all of you would be gone by the time I got here. You have had no respite yet?" He closed his eyes as she laid her hand along his cheek. "That is worrisome. It has never been so long, I think. Not in recent memory, anyway."
"Well, lucky us," Emil grumbled. "I dinna even wanta b'come a Guardian. I just came t'keep an' eye on m'friend Mureln an' his woman." He closed his eyes with a sigh when she touched his cheek again, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "And th' others ain't doin' so great, either."
Itena considered him for several moments. "You are here only for that reason?" she asked softly, meeting his eyes when he looked up at her sharply. "If your only concern was for Master Bard Mureln's welfare, then why do you worry over any of the others? You can use the excuse that Master Healer Taylin is wife to the bard, but that does not answer why you are fussed about the others." Emil growled under his breath, pushing himself out of the chair to stalk away. "It is because of the kin song, isn't it?"
Emil jerked to an abrupt stop, eyes wide. He turned around, scowling at Itena. "Ye don't know nothin' about nothin'!"
"Don't I?" Itena tilted her head, her gaze unwavering. "I am as much a gypsy as you. You can't dismiss anything that I won't know is a truth or a lie. The only reason a gypsy will leave his or her clan and not be deemed a rogue wolf is because they feel the kin song with someone else. That innate sense of family and kinship. First it was just with the master bard. Now... it is different. I can see it in your eyes."
"Meh! It be our responsibility t' respect Fortress. Gypsies don't ferget their responsibilities like most o' them others." Emil waved a dismissive hand. "An Mureln done decided t' follow Almek, so what else were Emaris an' me s'posed t'do?"
Itena walked up to him, reaching for his hand. Stroking the back, she turned his hand over to trace the lines in his palm. "You had a choice to make," she stated, her fingertip tracing one of the lines. "Shades of the past that have slept for a very long time are starting to awaken. You cannot ignore them, can you?"
Emil pulled his hand away, taking a step back. "What are ye? A fortune teller or somethin'?" When Itena merely smiled at him, his eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Good gods, a seer?! What th' hell are ye doin' here instead o' being wi' yer clan?"
"Do you think you are the only gypsy to have heard the kin song beyond his clan before?" Itena tsked, turning her back on Emil to gather up the many glasses abandoned on the table. Looking over her shoulder as she put the tray on her hip, she said reassuringly, "I am not sure what the future holds for you, Emil. But I know this torment will end within three days." Turning away, she added gravely, "One way or another."
Emil opened his mouth to demand what she meant, then shut it again, a chill running down his spine. "Bah! Seers," he grumbled, stalking towards the door and grabbing his cloak before heading outside. "Feckin' hate seers."
Chapter 19
Mureln paced the small space in his and Taylin's room, trembling with pent up frustration. Grabbing the water carafe from the table, he flung it against the far wall before he staggered back against the cold marble, pressing the heels of his hands against his temples, uttering a pained, beastial noise.
The door flew open to admit Taylin, Storm on her heels. The healer went to her husband, kneeling by him as she brushed her fingers through his hair. "Oh, my love, what is wrong?"
"Can't you hear it?" Mureln growled through gritted teeth, flashing pain-hazed, angry eyes up at her. "How can you not hear it?!"
Barefoot, blind, Storm followed the sound of Mureln's voice. Kneeling on one knee, she touched his hand. At first, her voice could barely be heard. Then both bard and healer were looking at her as the wordless song she sang finally penetrated their hearing. By the third repetition of the song, both had tears coursing down their cheeks.
"Storm," Mureln whispered, taking her hand in his, shaking with emotion and exhaustion. "What are you singing? I have never heard... anything so beautiful."
Taylin dabbed at her eyes. "I have never heard anything so sad."
Falling silent when the song ended, Storm closed her eyes for several heartbeats before answering him. She stated without inflection, "It was a lullaby that my mother used to sing to me."
"It is so poignant... Do you remember the words?" Mureln asked, his demeanor much calmer.
"There are never words for Desanti lullabies." Storm's voice was tight. "Only story or history songs have words. All other songs are just..." Unable to find the words, she put her hand on his bare chest. "They come from here. To hear such songs is to feel what had once been felt."
"But it was so sad," Taylin said as she looked at Storm intently. "How could a mother teach such sadness to her child?"
Storm looked annoyed with the criticism of her mother, but only shook her head sharply, biting back harsher words. "Because I must feel what was felt to sing, and there is not enough joy in my heart to sing a happier song." She paused a moment and added, "It was the only song I could think of that could free Mureln from the grip of his emotions."
Mureln took a deep breath and exhaled, opening his eyes to regard Storm. "Thank you. I could not shake the frustration and anger I felt." He tilted his head at her. "Most of the time, I need hear a song only once to be able to repeat it. But I do not think I can this time." He looked in her eyes. "What was that song about?"
Drawing away, Storm murmured, "It is an ancient song, of a na'Zhekali chieftain mourning the loss of parents he knew only through others." She looked away, cheeks flushed in shame. "The only songs I can sing are ones of grief." She stiffened a little when he put his arms around her comfortingly, but returned the embrace briefly.
"No one would fault you for that, Storm," Mureln said. "At least, no one who is not a heartless idiot. Thank you for helping me." Rubbing one last tear from his cheek, he asked with almost desperate hope, "But can you hear what I hear? I have to know I am not going insane."
Taking his hand in hers, Storm closed her eyes. Mureln blinked at the tickle in his mind that withdrew a moment later. "I cannot hear what you hear. But what you hear, I have sensed. Shortly after the nightmares began. It is... I do not know the bard words very well. Unsettled? No. Dis-sunny? It is ugly sound."
"Dissonance," Mureln corrected, overwhelming relief in his voice. "Yes. It is low. Subtle. But it has been making my skin crawl and driving me to distraction." He shook his head sharply. "I do not know the source or the cause, but it is like a perverted form of the Desanti Psia Re, if the Ancestral Pain could have been perverted any further."
Taylin frowned, brushing her fingers across his damp brow. "That is why I have not been able to help block your pain. It is one in your mind, not a physical one." The healer looked at the blind Desanti woman. "Thank you for helping us, Storm."
"If it becomes bad again, come to me," Storm said as she got back to her feet. "I will do what I can to push it back."
"Storm." Mureln got to his feet catching her hand as Storm turned away. "A tribe is like a Vodani pod. We are each other's strengths. You do not need to shoulder everything alone in silence. None of us would think less of you." He added gently, "All of us who came with Almek are family. Family takes care of each other."
Closing her eyes, Storm turned her face away. "I do not know how to be part of a family. I have been alone for so long." She pulled her hand out of Mureln's. "I can't. I don't want my curse to be yours or your son's."
Mureln frowned in worry as she walked out, reaching out futilely towards her. He sighed as Taylin joined him, hugging her tightly. "We will make her understand," Taylin reassured him. "How important she is to us and our son." She looked up at him, caressing his cheek. "But for now, just focus on getting through these nightmares." The bard could only nod, letting her lead him back to bed.
Chapter 20
As th
e sun began to color the sky with the brilliance of morning on the ninth day of the nightmares, the younger Illaini Magus emerged. Seeing no others were yet awake, not even servants, he wearily headed for the place by the large, indoor pool he had claimed as his own to meditate. Stumbling a few steps, he grimaced, closing his eyes to regain his focus before he tripped or fell.
Not long after he settled, Terrence heard another door down the hallway unlatch then latch. He looked up as Storm joined him by the garden pool, managing to smile a little. "Mistress Storm," he greeted. "You get around surprisingly well for someone unable to see." He moved sideways to make room for her, offering her his hand.
The Swordanzen woman lightly touched his hand, accepting the guidance as she sat down by him. "Mureln had taught me how to 'see' with my ears." She smiled faintly. "It is much easier when there is not too much other noise around, but I have been getting better." Leaning forward, she touched the surface of the water with her fingertips, smiling as a fish came up to nibble lightly before darting off, its dorsal fin bumping her.
"I am glad Master Mureln has been able to help you through your... challenges." Terrence watched her with a small smile. But soon his smile faded again, troubled as his thoughts turned inwards once more. He jumped when he felt her hand on his shoulder.
"You should not fear Ash." Terrence flinched as her soft-spoken words accurately touched his fears. "He does not say it, but he does love you like family. He would never hate you."
"I know," the young man said with a sigh. "I am more... worried he will be disappointed in me. I have only wanted to make him proud and disappointment would... hurt. I know he loves you, Mistress Storm, but Githalin is a Desanti privilege, as Illaini is a Forentan one." He fell silent, looking away. "He may see me being Githalin as an insult to the Great Mother. Or to our people. Or... to him. It is stupid, but--"
"Your fears are not stupid. They are well founded." Storm let her hand fall from his shoulder. "I love Ash to the depths of my soul, but he is still a Forentan, and I... am still just a Desanti. He loves me in spite of being Desanti, not because I am Desanti." She smiled sadly when he looked sharply at her. "Most of the time. He still regards Desanti as less than Forenten, and he bears little love for my people. I am an exception in his eyes. Our nations will always be between us. Someday, I pray, less often than it is now."
Terrence sighed heavily. "Mistress Storm," he began, falling silent when she touched his lips gently.
"No. No Forentan titles. Just Storm. You are Githalin. If you wish, call me tlisan," Storm stated with firm gentility.
The young Forentan's eyes widened and he whispered, "Tlisan means sibling... tribemate... But you are Swordanzen. You can't call anyone..."
"I cannot call Skyfire tlisan." Storm turned her face towards the pool, listening to the water flow over the rocks. "He can only be th'yala to me until his training is completed. We will discover the new patterns between us if we both live to see that day." She smiled faintly. "I choose to call those of us who follow Almek my tribe. It is a... new pattern for me. It does not displease my father the Raging One, nor does Thandar object. It gives me a sense of peace."
She turned her face towards the young man again, expression reflecting her anxiety. Speaking quietly in Swordanzen, she said, "You must tell Ash. He will find out about your bond to Desantiva, Sumyr il'Dzee."
"He doesn't have to," Terrence said in a low voice, looking away when she spoke his Githalin name. "I have been able to hide it so far, so I should be able to--"
Anxious, Storm shook her head. "No, Sumyr. You must tell him. It will only be worse if you keep putting it off. Being Githalin is not meant to be kept secret, and it is not one you can keep for long. One day, an enemy will discover your secret, and then they will use it against you. You cannot allow being Githalin to become a weapon."
"But what if he hates me for it?" Terrence looked at the sprite sleeping on his leg, covering her small body. "I don't know if I am... if I am ready to stand alone."
"You are strong, Sumyr. Whatever needs to be done, you are well capable of doing." Storm leaned over, touching his cheek to turn his face back towards her. With more sympathy in her voice than Terrence had ever heard before, she told him, "You must choose to be ready, Sumyr. Even if you are not."
Terrence frowned, confused. "Choose to be ready when I am not ready? What do you mean?"
"You are like a young desert eagle, Terrence. When you were young, you were kept safe in your nest. Protected. Taught. Nurtured so you would mature strong and healthy." Storm paused a moment. "And you did grow strong, and your flight feathers grew in. But you would not have grown stronger and wiser had you not left the nest to stretch your wings. If you had not left Forenta."
Terrence felt his face warm, looking down even though the woman could not see his flush of emotion. "Master Ash was leaving Forenta. I had to leave with him."
Storm shook her head. "No, you did not have to. He gave you the choice, and you chose to follow him. Perhaps it felt as if you had no choice, because it was the only choice you could make to stay with him.
"You chose to become Githalin because it was the only choice you could make and not lose Dzee." Dropping her hand from his chin to his shoulder, she squeezed and shook him slightly. "You are strong, Sumyr. Strong enough to have taken the paths that were not the safest, not the traditional. Because what you gained was worth the risk to you.
"But now you are faced with a choice that risks as much gain as loss." Storm sat back, closing her eyes as she murmured, "Now the question is whether you control the choice, or allow the choice to control you."
"Terrence, there you are." Ash approached the pair, kneeling behind Storm. He rested his hands on her shoulders, kissing her temple as she looked upwards briefly. "I should have known you would be here."
"You were looking for me, Master Ash?" Terrence asked, his cheeks pink.
In his exhaustion, Ash did not seem to notice the younger Illaini's odd demeanor. "I wanted to check on you. Make sure you were doing well. As well as can be expected, considering our circumstances." He regarded the tranquil water, letting the sound soothe him. "I can see why you are often here. This pool reminds me a lot of the pond I used to take you to for some of your earlier lessons."
The younger man could not help but smile at the memories. "I always loved those days. Especially when we had the whole day without Amelana." Looking down at Petal, he said, "Who would have guessed our paths would have led us here."
Ash followed Terrence's gaze and smiled. "Ah, good, a forest sprite. I am glad to know that in spite of the madness of the past sevendays, the normal patterns have held to tradition."
The younger Forentan looked at Storm, who nodded once imperceptibly before closing her eyes as she turned her attention inwards. Terrence sighed heavily. "Master Ash, there is something I..." He looked away. "Something I must confess."
Ash blinked, confused. "Confess?" He looked at Storm, but the Desanti woman's expression was impassive as she meditated.
"Yes, Master." Terrence hesitated for several heartbeats. "Do you... remember when Dzee chose me to bring her to the Raging One?"
"Of course." Ash lowered himself to one knee to be more on level with his student. "How could I forget? I nearly gave my life to restore her." He frowned as he looked worriedly towards Storm again. "Is something wrong?"
"No! No, nothing is wrong, Master, but..." Terrence bit his lower lip, feeling Ash's intensely azure gaze on him. Unable to find the words to make it easier, he unlaced his tunic with a heavy sigh and pulled it off over his head. He watched as Ash glanced at his Illaini marks, then at the silhouette tattoo of a wyvern on his shoulder briefly. When Ash looked sharply at his shoulder again, Terrence sat up straighter, squaring his shoulders. "Dzee chose me to be her Githalin, Master Ash."
Ash stared, then reached out towards the mark, briefly touching it, drawing back from its warmth as if he'd burned himself. "But you are not Desanti," the man said numbly, though his gaze moved from
the silhouette tattoo of the wyvern to the gold necklace with the crossed swords pendant. "You are not Swordanzen."
"No, I am not Swordanzen," Terrence confirmed, keeping his voice as steady as possible. "Dzee is not a warrior Totani. She was... she is the magic of Desantiva." He swallowed hard. "When you restored her, she... a part of her remained with me."
Ash looked accusingly at Storm, though the woman remained impassively unaware. "And you did not tell me?" he demanded of Terrence. "Did the Desanti make you conceal the fact there was still a taint of the Totani in you after I restored her?"
"It was not a taint, it was a gift! And I told no one about it," Terrence replied sharply, cheeks flushed with emotion. "The Desanti bear no responsibility for this. I chose to hide it because I thought they... and you... would fault me for it. That you would hate me and cast me out and I did not want to lose you." As Ash stood up, so did Terrence, startling Petal who squeaked and nearly fell into the pool, flying up to the top of one of the indoor trees to hide. "Master..."
"You deliberately kept this from me?" Ash demanded, not looking at the young man. "You concealed it from the goddess? How could you--?"
Terrence shook his head, squaring his shoulders. "I can hide nothing from our great mother, Master Ash." When Ash looked sharply at Terrence, they stared at one another until Ash growled under his breath and stalked away. Terrence reached out helplessly towards him. "Master!" He looked down when he felt a light hand touch his hip.
"Let him go," Storm said softly, opening her eyes to gaze upwards sightlessly. "You cannot make him understand or accept this, Sumyr. He must come to terms with this within himself." She caught his hand, squeezing it. "And you are not alone, Terrence. As a Githalin and Illaini, you will never be alone. You will always have both our gods as part of you."
Terrence glanced at Petal as the small creature hugged his other wrist tightly and sighed, shoulders sagging. "Did I do the right thing, Storm?" he asked quietly in Swordanzen. "When I accepted becoming Githalin?"
