by Lexy Wolfe
Jaison replied in similar off-handed tones, "It is not often I can get a rise out of her. I will take whatever opportunity I can to even up the score." He added more seriously, "Though you did startle me."
"It is as important to be able to be unseen as seen, and more important in being able to control it." Storm, noticing the odd looks those who did not speak Desanti looked at her with, switched back to trade common. "We were in the bathing cavern after we finished training. Ash knew. He could have told you."
"And we could have asked, but that would have been so much work, wouldn't have been, Bella?" Jaison asked impishly to the Vodani woman who swatted his shoulder ungently.
Ash studied the pair of Desanti in silence as they and Lyra settled to have breakfast, the three bantering with the gypsies and bard, setting Taylin to alternate between gales of laughter or furious blushes. He tapped his fingers on his chin thoughtfully. He looked over towards Terrence, feeling the other man's eyes on him. "I am concerned for them," he murmured in Forentan, his tone casual as he answered the unspoken question.
"I thought it was just me," Terrence replied, mimicking the casual tone as he slouched in his chair, sipping from his glass. "Perhaps it is nothing. They live expecting hostility towards them. We could merely be overprotective."
"This is Fortress," Ash argued, azure eyes flashing briefly with his agitation. "This should have been the one place untouched by bigotry towards anyone." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know Almek must remain in seclusion until he recovers, but I wish he were here to explain why he did not at least warn us of the degree of animosity towards Desanti. His faculties were clear enough, I cannot believe he forgot something so severe."
Terrence chuckled when the others burst out laughing as Lyra turned a furious red at a comment by Emil, then at Emil's stammering backpedaling when Skyfire stood up with a dark glare in the slight Forentan woman's defense. Skyfire's scowl was brief, turning to an amused smirk, satisfied with Emil's reaction. "I do not think it was done maliciously. The Desanti would have detected that immediately and confronted him."
"Point," Ash agreed. "Still. There is something that bothers me, the more I think about this assessment." Terrence looked up sharply, when Storm spoke in Swordanzen, her green-gold eyes briefly meeting the Illaini Githalin's before she turned back to her discussion with the rest of the company at the table. Ash waited patiently for Terrence to speak.
"For not speaking any tongue beyond trade common, Desanti and Swordanzen," Terrence observed drolly, "Storm has a preternatural ability to know what is being discussed." Refilling his cup from the carafe of water, he took a long sip. "'We Desanti are not as naïve or ignorant as everyone assumes we are,' is what she said." Troubled, he repeated, "'Almek considers us sheltered from the harsh realities of the world, but we have never let the lessons of the past be forgotten.'"
Ash blinked, looking towards his lifemate, sensing the mental shield that hid much of her heart from him through their bond. "That does not reassure me."
"I do not think it was meant to," Terrence replied quietly. "Ash, the Desanti still view the world through the eyes of those who endured the Great War. They expect attack and betrayal." Biting his lower lip, he finally asked, "Ash, you do not think they will react as if it were still that time? It would not bode well if they started drawing swords on others, especially Guardians."
Before the senior Illaini could reply, the group fell silent when Tyrsan walked through the tunnel archway. "I will escort you to Dahla Morria's chambers for your assessment." As everyone got to their feet with varying degrees of reluctance, he said, "As full Adept, Taylin will guide your return so you may await the final determination of your potential."
"Oh, feckin' goodie," Emil grumbled sourly, vocalizing the sentiments of the others.
Chapter 4
"Now, why do we has t' do this again?" Emil asked as the group followed Tyrsan through the tunnels deeper into the heart of the mountain. "Don't we jus' need t' gets some trainin' and then we sees if th' goddess likes us t' get us one of them pretty marks on our cheeks like you has?"
"The Dahlas are those skilled in the ability to scry people themselves to see the strengths and weaknesses that lie within so a Guardian may focus their training appropriately." Tyrsan arched an eyebrow, looking over his shoulder. "Do not think you can fool Dahla Morria into believing you're an idiot, Gypsy. She is the oldest and most skilled of the Dahla. You should be honored. She normally only assesses Guardians." He looked forward again. "If I can tell you are not the idiot you pretend to be, you'll never fool her."
The others chuckled when Emil flushed, disconcerted. He glared at Emaris. "What are ye smirking at, ye great lunk?"
Arriving at a set of double doors, Tyrsan turned to regard the group. "You need not worry about the outcome here. There is no passing or failing. The assessment is to help you know yourselves."
"I already know myself," Storm stated flatly, crossing her arms. "As does Skyfire. You cannot be Githalin Swordanzen without knowing yourself. Knowing your weaknesses takes weapons away from your enemies."
"No one is your enemy here, Adept Storm," Tyrsan stated reassuringly. The Desanti woman only arched an eyebrow in silence. The Dulain rolled his eyes. "All right, all right. I will concede there are some who are... not allies. But all of us have endured this many times, from the moment the Timeless One assessed the first mortal and deemed them worthy to serve Her as Her Guardian of Time." He realized to convince the others, he had to convince this brazen Desanti woman. "But this first assessment is most important. It defines who you are as an Adept."
"It is a rite of passage?" Storm asked, her tone hinting at her uncertainty. "A Guardian tradition?"
"Yes, Adept Storm," Tyrsan stated firmly. "It is a Guardian tradition."
Drumming her fingers on her arm, Storm was silent as the others watched to see what she would do. She looked over when Ash put his hand on her shoulder. The pair closed their eyes, touching foreheads. After several moments, Storm sighed, unfolding her arms. "If it is tradition, it is tradition." She muttered under her breath as she passed Tyrsan, "This is not going to end well."
"It will be fine, Adepts." He nodded to Taylin. "Taylin will guide you back when the Dahla is done. I have some duties to attend to."
"Bet Dremmen's bein' a pain in the arse again," Emil muttered loudly to Emaris.
"And you claim to be a mindless idiot. You are not far off in your assumptions, Adept Emil," Tyrsan stated drolly, inciting another round of laughter at the smaller gypsy's expense.
Lit by four flickering lamps hanging on the wall, the unnaturally round chamber echoed with their arrival. Opposite the double doors the group entered through was a single, polished mahogany door. Save for the sconces, the furniture and walls were bare of ornamentation.
Mureln offered a gallant hand to Taylin. "Come, my love. You should sit and rest after that long walk." The healer smiled as she accepted his offered hand, allowing him to guide her down the aisle between the two sets of stone benches to settle on the one second to the front. A plain stone table dominated the front of the room. The others found places scattered across the three rows of seats.
The Desanti remained standing at the back of the room, ignoring the others' invitations or suggestions to join them until they gave up. "I do not like this place," Skyfire murmured in Swordanzen, fidgeting.
Storm drummed her fingers on her arm as she leaned against the double doors with her arms crossed. "Dulain Tyrsan seems to trust her. But, if the Dahla is like Dremmen, I doubt she will say anything favorable about us."
"I agree." Skyfire looked at Storm. "Do you think she will be able to convince the Dulain to turn us out?"
"Perhaps. We will just have to do what we need to do to prove ourselves so that if she tries, her lies will be obvious." Storm closed her eyes briefly. "I am not sure how, though."
"We will figure it out when the moment comes, th'yala. Have faith. We are not alone in this trial." Storm glanced at the ha
nd Skyfire rested on her arm sighing as she closed her eyes, shaking her head.
Seated next to Ash and Lyra, Terrence looked away from the Swordanzen with a sad expression. "Dusvet Almek believed the Desanti blindly worshipped Fortress and wanted them to see Guardians were not all noble." Sighing softly, he shook his head. "Now they do not trust anyone here at all."
"I did not think they trusted anyone ever," Lyra pointed out quietly, picking at the sleeve of her Adept robe absently. "Skyfire always seems to be able to tell when someone's intentions are not honorable." She turned bright red suddenly. "He said that's why treasures me, because I am always... honest with him."
Ash smiled faintly, covering Lyra's picking fingers with his hand soothingly. "Relax, Lyra. You will do well." His smile faded as he looked back towards the two Desanti. "I do worry about both of them being so agitated. Storm's moods are as intense as they are mercurial, so I rather expect her to be on edge in situations strange to her. But Skyfire is usually much more..." He considered his words. "Composed."
Troubled, Terrence looked towards the raised stone platform near the mahogany door that resembled a table, save it was a part of the rock floor itself. On it, a hollow was filled with water, and fire licked the air from a polished bronze brazier. "All of this reminds me of the apprenticeship testing back in the Academy." He looked at Ash with a slight frown. "My tester was particularly biased. The highborn had easy tasks. Mine were designed for me to fail."
Ash nodded, lips pressed together. "I remember. Dulain Tyrsan trusts this Dahla... what was her name? Morria will be fair and impartial to all of us. He may be blind to something they are not. The Desanti may have good reason to be wary."
Lyra's eyes were wide as she stared at Terrence. "They tried to force you out of the Academy?" He only nodded. "Oh, Terrence, I'm so sorry! I did not think the mages at the Magus Academy were so-so..."
"Petty?" Ash's voice was hushed and bitter. "Highborn can be as petty as lowborn. Pettiness is a weakness of human nature." He glanced at the Desanti. "The Desanti have the right of it. We should be on guard for such pettiness as well. Guardians are human, regardless of anything else. There are already biases against many of us for being acknowledged masters." He looked at the eternal braid on his right forearm. "Or for being god-touched."
"But Dulain Tyrsan said these tests could not be failed, they were just to... to see--" Lyra bit her lower lip and looked away as Ash squeezed her hand.
"None of us will let them do anything to harm the Desanti," Terrence said in a low voice, shifting to put his hand over his right shoulder, keeping his expression unchanged despite the ache Dzee's contact caused. "I promise you, Lyra."
They all fell silent as the mahogany door opened and a tall, willowy woman stepped through. Even for a Guardian, she looked old. Her pale blue eyes were milky with cataracts, but her steps were certain and measured. She walked to the table, and paused, saying nothing for a time.
Morria's voice was low, but carried the weight of centuries beneath it. "I 'see' there are nine of you for me to assess for the Goddess. The Adept Elites of Dusvet Almek who disrupt the tranquility of Fortress."
Emil grumbled under his breath, "Buncha stuffy, stuckup horses arses 'ere. This place be needin' some disruptin'."
Morria turned her sightless regard towards Emil, her expression impassive. "Indeed, Gypsy. Fortress has grown complacent and stagnant over the centuries. Since you have spoken up, you shall be first." Unerringly navigating the benches, she approached Emil, holding her hand above his head.
The Sevmanan mercenary stiffened as if caught in an electric current, then relaxed when her hand lowered. He held tightly to the edge of the bench he sat on, shaking. Morria nodded to herself. "You have potential, Gypsy. You possess a keen perception and you are willing to trust your instincts. That will serve you well as you learn to reach beyond yourself. But there will be times you will need to do, not just float along letting things happen."
Emaris watched Emil with brotherly concern, putting a hand on Emil's shoulder. "I be fine," Emil rasped gruffly. "Ain't nothin' t' worry 'bout."
The large man looked up sharply when Morria stepped in front of him. He flinched back when she held her hand up, stiffening as Emil had and left similarly shaken. The woman's expression softened. "Silent gypsy son, you are much like your brother here. Though you were born mute, you speak louder with no voice as I see clearer with no eyes. Let no one tell you otherwise." Turning away from him, she added, "Especially not yourself."
Mureln put his arm around Taylin and leaned close to her reassuringly. Both looked up when Morria stopped in front of them. She tilted her head curiously. "I remember you, Taylin of Surthan. You have grown considerably stronger since you were last before me."
"Yes, Dahla Morria," Taylin replied, lowering her eyes even though the old woman was blind. "Though I still fail with the most basic of Guardian skills. I have not managed to learn how to scry the elements with any reliable consistency."
"You fail to scry as others do," Morria stated firmly. "I can no longer see physically, but I can still scry." She put her hand on Taylin's shoulder. "Child, we each embody all the elements. You scry within others to heal. One day, you will learn to see beyond the physical. But not for many, many more years." The woman paused, then leaned down to put her hand on Taylin's swollen abdomen a short time, frowning slightly. "You have a strong son. His aura is very... unusual."
Taylin could not help but smile, putting her hand where Morria's had been moments before. "Yes, Dahla Morria."
"You are not surprised to know your child is male." Morria smiled faintly. "Then again, you are a healer. You discovered this yourself."
"No, Dahla Morria. Githalin Swordanzen Storm told me months ago I was with child before I ever realized it." Taylin looked bewildered at the chill expression the Dahla turned towards the Desanti.
"I see." Morria turned towards Mureln, standing before the master bard in silence.
The scrutiny did not fluster the Vodani man, returning the woman's regard steadily, despite the obviousness that she was physically blind. "Dahla Morria," the bard greeted politely.
"Master Bard," Morria returned, inclining her head towards him. He closed his eyes as she held her hand over his head, more relaxed than Emil and Emaris had been, though left no less shaken. "Mureln of Water's Resonance. You are keenly attuned to the unheard rhythms. Yours is the power to unleash the songs that have long been unsung and only you can hear." She touched his cheek lightly. "You are wise to be careful of such power, but do not allow fear to hobble you."
Lowering his eyes, Mureln could only nod before he finally found his voice. "Yes, Dahla Morria." Taylin put her arm around Mureln comfortingly. His shoulders sagged as he closed his eyes, shaking as his composed façade crumbled.
Terrence sat up straighter as Morria navigated the many benches to stand before him. He only stared at her without a word as she extended her hand over his head. She drew her hand back sharply as if she'd touched a hot iron. "Odd. For a moment, I thought..." Resolutely, Morria held her hand over his head. Both closed their eyes for a considerable time. When he finally opened his eyes, he looked pale, gritting his teeth in silence.
Morria finally opened her eyes, inhaling deeply as if she'd forgotten to breathe for the past several moments. "Do not be in a hurry to try to right all the world's ills, young master mage. Your responsibility is to yourself and your own. Remind others of their responsibilities, yes, but they are not all yours to burden yourself with. Such will only poison your soul with resentment."
Moving to stand before Lyra, Morria frowned faintly as the young Forentan woman lowered her eyes. "Look at me," the Dahla commanded sharply. "To serve others does not make you less than them. Giving respect does not require you to be submissive. Anyone who demands submission for their respect deserves none of yours." The woman's voice was stern. "You will be no Guardian if you cannot stand up for yourself, else how will you stand up for others who need you?"
"Y-
yes, Dahla Morria." Sitting up straighter, Lyra closed her eyes as Morria held her hand above her as she had with the others. She leaned on Terrence when the ancient woman moved on to Ash, the younger Illaini Magus putting a comforting arm around her.
Ash sat up as Morria stopped short in front of him. He stared at her unwaveringly as she frowned slightly, studying him with her hand over him. "Yours is an ancient soul," she stated finally. "Deeply wounded and burdened with nearly as ancient a guilt. As powerful as you are, Mage, you will never know your true strength until you forgive yourself."
Without a word, Morria turned and walked slowly to the door she had come in through. The group looked at one another in bewilderment. Terrence spoke up as her hand touched the handle. "What about Storm and Skyfire?"
"They are Desanti," Morria stated coldly. "They abandoned Fortress. For more than my thirteen hundred years, they have denied Fortress their people to serve the Timeless One. It is a little late to be seeking a boon from us now."
Ash crossed his arms. "Aren't you supposed to assess all of us?" In a sharper tone, he stated, "I thought race did not matter among Guardians. Guardians serve all nations, not only those they choose to serve. Is that not an edict of the Timeless One herself?"
The woman stiffened at being taken to task by the Illaini Magus. Turning back with a scowl, Morria moved to the platform, resting her hands on the stone surface. "Very well. Approach me, Desanti, if you wish to prove yourselves worthy," she instructed tersely. Skyfire and Storm did not obey immediately, trading distrustful looks. Finally, both moved towards the front of the room.
Morria held her hand towards Skyfire then made a noise in her throat. She reached behind the platform and brought out a smoothed stone, setting it in the open area on the table in front of Skyfire. "You have keen perception, Desanti. More so than I had seen in anyone since young Jaison stood before me." She waved a hand towards the rock. "Prove to me you have the will to be a Guardian. Age this until it is dust."
