by Meagan Hurst
She felt the magic swirl through her system, but it wasn’t a pleasant experience. She wanted to attack Dyslentio. Fighting to keep from harming him, she struggled to both stay conscious yet passive and the effort exhausted her more than she knew was wise.
“Dyslentio,” she warned when she felt she wouldn’t be able to hold off from attacking him.
She felt his magic slowly still and release her, and she opened her eyes slowly to meet the silver ones that were faintly amused. “No pain?” he asked at once.
“No, but your power is unlike anything I have yet had to deal with, and it’s causing my own magic to spiral dangerously inside. I have control, but you were testing it to the max. Apparently it was best when I was too weak to fight back.”
The Kryhista snorted softly and moved forward to brace her as she tried to stand. “Easy,” he almost cooed kindly. “It takes a little while for you to feel the effects and when you stress yourself, it reverses some of the healing I have done.” He continued to support her until she decided to sit down again. Only when he was certain she was settled did he move away. “Rest,” he advised. “There are few ways into this valley, and they are heavily guarded. Nivaradros is also here, and he will let nothing happen to you.”
“Nor will Shanii,” Z murmured as she took the ancient immortal’s advice.
Her sleep was broken, fretful, and basically useless. She awoke only when someone grabbed her forearms and drew her tight against their chest. With where she was, her mind thankfully assumed it was Nivaradros, and Z opened her eyes without drawing a weapon to find the Dragon’s neon eyes watching the Kryhista angrily.
“You should have called me sooner!” Nivaradros hissed. “I have been trying to keep her from falling so deep into her sleep when the result could be this.” Z felt the Dragon lower her back to the ground, and as he did she felt him relax. What he did next astonished her; he apologized to Dyslentio.
“It is alright, Nivaradros,” the Kryhista assured him softly. “I am used to worse from you. And you are correct, I should have called you sooner.” He approached and nuzzled Z’s shoulder. She reached up to stroke his nose and smiled at the feel of it. It was as soft as she had suspected it would be. “My apologies, Zimliya,” he added gravely.
She shook her head. “It is not your fault,” she told him firmly. “I have several annoying quirks. This is just the most recent one to appear.” She glanced at Nivaradros briefly, then her gaze strayed back to Dyslentio. On the third run between them the Kryhista chuckled and nuzzled her arm again.
“I have known Nivaradros since before he was the Warlord,” Dyslentio explained without her asking—verbally asking anyways. “We were both adventurous in our youth, and he was not so opposed to the other races.”
“Other than those only mortal?” Z asked dryly. She couldn’t see Nivaradros ever not being irritated by her race and the others he could so easily kill.
Dyslentio laughed openly but nodded. “Well your kind is hard to tolerate at times, but if there are any others like you I would be pleased to make their acquaintance. As for the Dragon, I wouldn’t put it past him to have traveled safely with others from the other short lived races.”
“There are no others like her. I will admit several of the Rangers are bearable,” Nivaradros conceded darkly. He did not, however, confirm or deny travel with any of the other mortal races. He settled on the ground beside her and waited until the Kryhista was likewise settled before speaking again. “How much do I owe you?” he wanted to know as he glanced over at her before turning his gaze to the figure he was addressing.
She could see a hint of worry still in his eyes whenever they turned to her and it made her feel even worse. Her eventual demise was unavoidable, and she worried how Nivaradros would handle it. So far, he wasn’t accepting it and she feared her death would change him into something more dangerous than he had been as the Warlord.
“Nothing,” Dyslentio told him firmly. Seeing Nivaradros’s mouth open to protest, the Kryhista stood for a moment and pawed the ground irritably. “Zimliya and I already worked it out. She wants to pay for her own treatment, Nivaradros, and I accepted her offer.” Since they hadn’t truly worked it out it was a bit of a lie, but Z decided not to mention the terms hadn’t been finalized. Dyslentio, however, seemed to decide it was time for Nivaradros to leave. “Zimliya and I have a few more things to discuss now that she is conscious again. Please go entertain Shanii; we’re not friends.”
Nivaradros tensed for a moment and his hands curled into fists. Eyes shading to a dangerous neon color, he growled before he stood slowly. “He doesn’t like me either,” the Dragon said tightly, but Nivaradros did turn and walk away after a few minutes of a very tense standoff between the two.
Only when he was gone did Z stand slowly as well. Exhaling with relief she hadn’t witnessed a fight between the two she was struck by a sudden question, and she spoke before she realized she had.
“Have you two ever fought?”
Dyslentio chuckled at the question, but shook his head. His easy amusement was something she was not accustomed to from immortals, and she found she liked it. Dyslentio’s mane rolled from one side of his neck to the other and back before he held her eyes with his. “No, we have not. Argued, yes, but Nivaradros has always managed to keep from attacking me. If he had attacked me, my demise would have been unavoidable. I have some defense with my horn, but not enough against a Dragon, and I am certain you know how little we have against humans.”
At the reminder that Tenia had slaughtered thousands of the gentle healing race, Z flinched and lowered her gaze to the ground. “Sorry,” she told him softly.
“Don’t be. It gave us the chance to find this valley and to vanish from sight. Besides, Nivaradros was a staunch ally when we fell under attack and, as he was the Warlord at the time, he was not considered safe for even Veilantras to be around. He was a lone flyer and fighter at that point, and he shunned all contact with other races. I did not expect a response from him when I finally decided to request his aid. But he came,” Dyslentio said quietly as he looked past her and into the distance as if he was seeing that past once more.
“He came and he protected those of us who remain now, and he was wounded severely in the battle. It told us all he was not as far gone as rumored. He scouted the lands for something untouched and unclaimed,” he added as his gaze returned to her. “He found this place, killed those who lived here. It is not how we would have gone about it, but we did need the land and we were in no shape no protest or fight if danger struck, so we agreed with his actions then. He did set up trade with one immortal who lives in self-exile from his kind. If you were wondering what I do with what I demand Nivaradros pays me; I use it for trading. Gold is worthless to a point, but immortals take it to deal with mortals, so it does have a use. Otherwise we trade magic for magic—that is much more useful.”
Z nodded slowly in agreement and then closed her eyes and reached out to her surroundings at the reminder that she owed the Kryhista portals in return for his work. A portal didn’t need a containment—even one being stored—but unless the person using it was as adept at making portals as she was, they would be unable to activate it unless she stored it in a gem or stone. Without a physical form, portals were only visible to those could also create or shift them.
Regardless, it took a lot of energy. While she normally reacted to the creation of multiple portals, Z felt herself stagger when she finished today. Dyslentio’s back was suddenly there to lean on, but Z forced herself to stand instantly, not wanting to turn the ancient Kryhista into something as lessened as a riding mount. It was probably a bad decision. Ending up on the ground, Z placed her head in her hands and breathed slowly for several minutes while she struggled to stay conscious and alive.
“Focus on me, Zimliya,” she heard Dyslentio say from somewhere close by. “Focus on me and relax. I cannot help you if you do not relax.”
She made the attempt and felt her muscles begin to shake as a r
esponse. The Kryhista swore in a language she realized was his own as she understood it, yet knew she had never before heard it, and she felt him suddenly behind her. Realizing this meant he had laid down and intended her to lean against him, Z felt any chance she had at relaxing flee and Dyslentio gently pushed her back with his head as his neck suddenly wrapped around the front of her stomach.
“You’re alright,” he assured her as he nuzzled the side of her face. “This is where your recovery—what I could offer you—becomes difficult. This is not a fix after all, just a temporary extension on the deal you struck with magic to awaken the Shades, and there are limitations. Magic, apparently, will be hard for you when you decided to try to create—How many did you create?”
Z felt the tremors running through her body and hissed with annoyance. “A couple hundred,” she managed to reply before pressing her lips together so she wouldn’t bite off her tongue during one of her worst moments.
“A couple … I would consider not doing so much magic at once. I never would have considered that possible, or even thought you would make the attempt. You do not owe me that much, Zimliya. Why in the world would you attempt to make so many?”
“Because—” She closed her mouth for several minutes until she could speak safely again. “I will probably be coming often, and I meant what I said earlier. I will not allow Nivaradros to pay. If I grow weaker—if this doesn’t work—I won’t be able to create portals later on.”
“You are astonishing, and very, very confusing,” Dyslentio told her as he continued to support her. “You will recover from this soon, but I will speak of my time with the Dragon to make the time pass possibly quicker.” She felt him shift his weight easily behind her. “What would you like to know?” he asked suddenly. He surprised her, but it gave her something to focus on besides the results of her magic.
“How did you two meet originally?” she wanted to know.
“Ah, that,” Dyslentio breathed before laughing softly. His sides expanded and contracted rapidly with the movement and Z took comfort in his laugh. She decided then she truly cherished it. “Well, that is an interesting story,” he admitted. “And it happened while we were both too young to be considered adults. The Rangers, of course, did not exist then, although the Tenians had already made themselves hated by most others and the general belief of most here—and we were fewer races than we are now—was that humans were a waste of space and design. Often I still believe that is the case.” His voice was so soothing and even that she felt her whole body relax into it.
“I was outside our lands—without permission—because I had gotten into an argument with my mentor at the time. I thought her belief that we needed to stay hidden in our small meadow was foolish and limiting. I sought to see more of the world as my parents had, and I wanted to see where our ancestors had lived. So, when she was distracted healing one of the younger yearling colts who had tripped in a ground squirrel burrow, I took off. I had been tracking the movements of our sentries for weeks so it was a small effort to sneak around them without being seen leaving. My tracks were of little concern to me at that time; I assumed they would not follow even if they saw them. I made it out without any trouble.”
His bulk shifted behind her. “Your tremors are settling, but I believe it will be some time before they disappear completely.” He nuzzled the side of her head gently and continued. “But I ran into trouble soon after. A Tenian hunter thought I was dark-touched because of my color, and he began to hunt me. We have very little protection against far reaching weapons and he was armed with a bow. At that time, I did not know how to use my defensive magic at all, so I ran. Nivaradros,” and here she heard a hint of amusement touch the Kryhista’s tone, “happened to be flying overhead when I cleared the forest I had managed to reach. I hadn’t shaken my pursuer—he was mounted on a horse that I assume was one of Shanii’s kind—and I was running out of time. Nivaradros ended the threat,” Dyslentio continued. “He flew over the attacking human and snatched him from the saddle of his horse just as an arrow struck my side.”
Z tried to picture this in her mind as her tremors lessened enough that it was possible. “How large was he back then?” she wanted to know.
“About the size of myself now. He was very young,” Dyslentio replied as he once again nuzzled her. She could tell it brought him a small amount of comfort—how or why she did not know—and so she let it pass. “When the human was dead, he landed and came to my side. It took some work to get the arrow out, but Nivaradros has never been fond of his lesser form—your arrival here is the first time I have seen him in it—and with neither of us having hands, it was slightly difficult to retrieve the arrow from my side without losing the head.”
“It is enough of a challenge with hands,” Z agreed as she finally opened her eyes. It was the smallest of twitches now—her shakes—and it allowed her to relax at long last against the velvet coat of the Kryhista in the warmth of the sun.
“Very true,” the Kryhista agreed. “But during the time we spent trying to pull the arrow out Nivaradros and I became something akin to friends—friends in the immortal sense—and since we had both ditched our mentors in an attempt to gain a small amount of freedom, we found a willing co-conspirator in each other.”
He shook his head and neck again. “We ended up deciding to meet on a daily basis for a time and we began to travel. Eventually we chose to forgo our lessons and our mentors for a few weeks and took off without anyone knowing we were leaving—Oh, did I get in trouble for that. Nivaradros was easy-going with immortals at that time. It wasn’t until he became his half-adult self to the Dragons that he turned into the Warlord. Something the Dragons did caused him to change.”
Z wanted more information on Nivaradros, but while Dyslentio did speak more about some of their travels and meetings together over the years, he did not go into any great depth on Nivaradros’s past. She wasn’t surprised—she was a stranger to the Kryhista and Nivaradros was clearly someone he cared about—but she did wish he would have been more forward with her regarding the Dragon’s past. She knew a lot of it after all, and it hadn’t turned her away from Nivaradros yet.
“Zimliya?” Dyslentio called suddenly. She blinked and nodded slowly.
“Sorry I got distracted,” she told him softly.
His smile had no malice in it, but she could tell he was still highly amused. “Your condition has improved,” he pointed out quietly. “You’re good for him,” he added suddenly as he watched her. “He’s closer to what he was when I first met him, but better possibly, and he is much more laid back and patient with those simply mortal. He also said he was guarding the Alantaion’s Mithani?”
“That was his offer,” Z said as she shook her head. “It surprised me. Shevieck is not the easiest to get along with, and neither is Nivaradros. The Mithane, however, seems to trust him with Shevieck, even though Nivaradros is the reason Shevieck is the only heir.”
“The Mithane trusts you,” Dyslentio countered as he watched her. “And I have a few things I wish to discuss regarding that with you. If you don’t mind, that is.”
Chapter 7
By the time Z headed back up to see Nivaradros, night had arrived, passed, and was already on its way back. She was exhausted—having triggered a couple more episodes of spasms—and she wanted nothing more than to make it up to the Dragon without collapsing on the ground again. She loathed being forced to give into the seizures that too much of anything seemed to bring on. She had rested recently, but as she climbed Z could feel the start of an incident beginning and she forced herself to rest. She had tried to push through this several times; so far it only prolonged the time she spent on the ground.
When she thought the fit had passed, she stood again and began to climb. Dyslentio had tested her throughout the time they had spoken so they knew exactly what would set her condition off. It was depressing, and very, very limiting, but Z figured she had to be grateful to be alive. Still, she just didn’t see how she could help anyone
. Lost in her thoughts, Z forgot to rest as she climbed.
Feeling the onset of an episode, she managed to find a flatter place to stand on before she ended up on the ground convulsing. There were whole weeks she was grateful for the lack of pain, and this was one of them. She had no idea how long this attack was, but as she struggled to defeat it, overpower it, or end it she felt a familiar presence arrive.
“Z,” the Dragon whispered as she felt his hands gently, but firmly, hold her down. “You’re alright,” Nivaradros said soothingly as he kept her from thrashing as much as he could. “This will pass,” he added as he continued to just keep her from doing further harm to herself. Only when her tremors and thrashing finally began to show signs of quitting did he release his hold on her.
Z sat up several minutes later when she trusted herself to not slide back into another episode, and she closed her eyes with relief when nothing happened. She had small shakes—almost shivers—from the residue of the attack, but she was so used to them that they felt almost normal to her now.
“You should have just let me die,” she whispered—wanting there to be heat in her tone but noticing at once there wasn’t even an edge present.
To her surprise, the Dragon didn’t respond at all. Instead he merely waited until she stood once more and stayed on her feet. She knew she was pale, and her clothes were drenched with sweat. Any health she had recovered during her time away was gone now. Her unavoidable death and these attacks ate away at what strength she had managed to gain before her return. Taking a couple unsteady steps, Z managed to make it a few feet up the steep embankment before Nivaradros scooped her up and held her close while continuing to take the path she had been aiming for.
“Don’t,” he ordered softly. “Don’t tell me this was a mistake. You are still alive. We will make this work.”
His words angered her. “How?” she demanded coldly, and she squirmed until he set her down. “I can’t fight. I can’t do anything that pushes me at all. I can’t use magic, and I can barely stand for long periods of time. And, according to Dyslentio—whom I like by the way—it’s going to get worse. How is this worth it?”
