by Jordan Baker
"No," Aaron said. "But I saw what the Ansari leader was doing."
"You perceived the changes in his form."
"Yes," Aaron said.
"And you were able to use that power to make your arms stronger, to move more quickly, to become a more powerful warrior. How did you learn such a thing?"
"I don't know," Aaron said. "I just tried it and it made sense."
"You did not draw lines with your power or manipulate flows of magic like the mages do," Ashan said. "You simply became that which you wished to be."
"I know how to do it the other way, but the way the Ansari leader did it was different and it made more sense for fighting," Aaron said.
"And that is the Ansari way," Aaron said, though he was not entirely sure.
"It is, though there is much more to Ansari than being one with your power," Ashan told him. "What you did in that fight was to learn from yourself. It is in such a way that there are things that I might teach you, but there are things that you will learn without being taught. This is frustrating for me as well, Aaron, for you show great promise as Ansari, but while you may come to know Ansari, you are not Ansari. And though I may guide you, I cannot teach you in the same way I teach the others."
Aaron nodded, starting to grasp what the old man was trying to explain, or not explain. If his power was somehow different, then it made sense that Ashan would not be able to explain it, even if he could perceive that it was different. At least the Ansari could help him learn to use his power to fight without feeding the shadow. Still, he was curious about one thing.
"You spoke of the sun," he said. "Can you answer me that, at least? Is it a luminescent ball or is it made of fire?"
"That is something I do not know," Ashan said with dry laugh. "Ansari have long believed it to be made of fire, and very distant, far beyond the sky itself, but there is no way for Ansari to know such a thing."
"You can change shape," Aaron said. "Why not become a bird and fly to it?"
"If it is made of fire, then it would burn the feathers of a bird," Ashan said.
"A dragon then," Aaron replied. "I have read about dragons. They are said to eat and breathe fire and be all but impervious to it, and they have wings and can fly."
"Perhaps a dragon could discover such a thing, but it is the one form Ansari will not lightly take, and certainly not for such a purpose."
"Why not?"
"The power of a dragon is fearsome, but it is ruled by intense emotion, anger and rage being the dominant state," Ashan explained. "Dragons are prone to madness, to losing themselves in their rage and becoming mindless and destructive. It is contrary to Ansari to become thus."
"I have read stories from ages past of dragons attacking people and causing many troubles," Aaron said. "The stories said they were hunted long ago."
"The ones who fell prey to the madness were hunted," Ashan told him.
"The way you say that suggests that there were other dragons who did not," Aaron said. "What of them?"
"They went away, to a faraway land where they could do no harm."
"But they did not fall prey to madness," Aaron said. "What danger would they be?"
"All dragons are prone to madness," Ashan said. "It is simply a matter of how mad they might be. They are also wise, and in their wisdom they flew away, for their own sake and that of the other peoples of this world, that their fires would do no harm."
"Well then, I doubt we will find one willing to fly up to the sun," Aaron said with a shrug.
"Such a thing would be very unlikely," Ashan replied.
Aaron wondered about what the Ansari had said about the intense emotions of the dragons. From the sound of it, they were like the opposite of the feeling he got from the power of the shadow and it made him wonder.
"The Ansari do not like the emptiness of the shadow, but they do not like the intensity of the dragons," he said. "Are those things not opposites?"
"In many ways, they are," Ashan agreed. "And they are both destructive, for they are extreme forms, one of darkness, one of fire. But it is false to equate dragons with the shadow. Dragons are creatures, like you or I, and they exist with life and purpose. The reason Ansari are wary of dragonkind is due to the madness of such creatures, for to be mad is to no longer know oneself, and to know Ansari is to exist with the entirety of truth in oneself."
"You said my power is like that of a mage and that of the Ansari, and something else. Is it like the dragons?"
"No," Ashan said. "Dragonkind are more like Ansari, though some of them have he ability to use magic as the mages do, as do some among my people, though we have little use for it. Your power is like that of dragons the way that my power is like dragons, but it is not the answer to the question you were truly asking."
Aaron felt like his thoughts were going to spin around and fall down.
"I wish you would just give me some kind of a hint," he said.
"It is good to wish for things, but I can only help you to know Ansari," Ashan replied.
"Then I suppose we should focus on that," Aaron said. "If I can't use magic without feeding the shadow, at least I can learn to use my power to fight."
"That is practical from one perspective," Ashan said. "However, if you are to prevail over the shadow, and realize your true power, you must focus on understanding more than simply how to fight. I believe that knowing Ansari will help you with this, but it is but one step on the journey to your own truth, whatever that might be, a journey that is made all the more difficult by the shadow that lives within you."
"And if I fail, then I will die."
"Of that I am certain," Ashan said. "The shadow would destroy you or others would destroy the shadow before it could take your power."
"Then why not just destroy me now," Aaron said. "I know I have power, and I know how dangerous it can be and how dangerous I could be. Why take the risk?"
"As you like to say, why not?" Ashan said with a smile. "Perhaps it is worth the risk. And do not take offense, Aaron, but if you were in danger of succumbing to the shadow, I would kill you myself."
"You would, wouldn't you?" Aaron frowned, already knowing that the Ansari spoke the truth.
"Yes," Ashan told him. "I would."
"What about the others?" Aaron asked.
"Ansari would fight to destroy the shadow." Ashan held his gaze, his eyes unyielding in the truth of what he had said.
"I mean Stavros or Stroma, or Ehlena," Aaron felt a knot in his stomach when he thought of Ehlena in such a way.
"I cannot speak for the mage, nor do I know the minds of the gods," Ashan said. "You would have to ask them."
"I have tried," Aaron said. "They do not want to talk about it. They don't want to talk about anything to do with my power."
"They understand, as I do, that there are many things you must learn for yourself," Ashan told him. "As for what happens if you succumb to the shadow, there is no need for them to talk of such things, not yet. There is still time."
"And when the time comes?"
"It is not so much a matter of when, Aaron," Ashan told him. "For now, we must ask how instead of asking questions like if and when, and I truly hope, as I know the others do as well, that you will overcome the dark power."
"As do I," Aaron said.
*****
The world seemed to be without light, black as pitch, when Ariana awoke. Her entire body ached almost as though she had been badly beaten and she found that she could barely move. At least she was no longer cold and she shifted her body around and could feel the bits of rough leather and the soft caress of the heavy furs that covered her. As she moved, pain stabbed through her from numerous places on her body, tender and throbbing in so many places like she was cut and bruised all over. She moaned from the ache of it and stopped trying to move, letting her body rest where she lay.
Ariana remembered collapsing in the snow, her arms and legs refusing to move, and she remembered being carried. After that she had only flashes of darkness, penetr
ated by flashes of white, hot light and glimpses of faces in shadow and glimmering reflections of fire. Sore and too hurt to move more than a little, she slowly curled up in a ball, naked underneath the heavy furs and let the soothing darkness of sleep claim her once more.
Another bundle of furs began to move as Margo awakened in the dark, feeling like she was recovering from a battle, one she may have survived but had lost badly, though she could not remember any of it. She waited for her eyes to adjust but there was no light at all by which to see, but she could smell the faint scent smoke in the air, with a hint of sulfur. She listened in the darkness and could hear the distinctive sounds of slow breathing from nearby and she knew she was not alone. She heard movement then Keira's voice, moaning lightly, followed by the rustling sound of movement. She sat up, pushing the heavy furs off of her and she felt the cold air outside the coverings, cool against the warmth of her naked skin, which was tender in so many places from whatever it was she had endured.
"Keira?" Margo whispered.
"I am here," Keira said. "Though I do not know where here is. What of Ariana, where is she?"
"I heard her moving moments ago, but I believe she has fallen back to sleep," Margo said. "Do you know what happened?"
"No," Keira said. "The last I remember is the two of us carrying her through the snow, and I could not see a thing."
Margo felt around beyond the furs and found that she lay on a hard-packed dirt floor. She crawled out of the coverings, wincing at the sharp pain that shot through her body as she moved. She stopped and slid a hand along her skin, checking to see if she was injured and she felt something strange. All over her body, and in her most sensitive places, it felt as though tiny beads of ice were attached to her. Hard and cold, they sent spikes of throbbing agony through the rest of her at even the slightest touch, and the natural response of her body tightening to the cold air outside the furs made the pain even worse. She let her hand fall back to the ground and crawled carefully in the direction of Keira's voice. After only a short crawl, she found the edge of another mass of furs and she felt the elven woman's leg underneath them.
Margo lifted the edge of the furs and crawled into the furs, her teeth beginning to chatter from the cold, which had quickly sapped away the warmth in her body. She felt Keira's warm skin against her own as she slipped in next to her.
"You are freezing," Keira whispered.
"It is very cold outside the furs," Margo said, her voice jittering from the chattering of her teeth.
She felt Keira's arms slide around her and nestled in to the warmth of her body.
"Wherever we are," Keira said, pausing a moment as she peered around in the darkness. "Whatever this place is, someone has provided us with these furs, though it seems they have taken liberties with our bodies." She slid her hand gently along Margo's arm and across her chest, discovering that she also had the same icy cold bumps.
"Ow," Margo said, flinching at the pain that was somehow sharp like a knife yet with the dull throb of a bruise.
"Something has been done to us," Keira said, letting her fingers relax, no longer searching Margo's body for what she had already discovered on her own. "I can no longer feel the power of the forest and the earth, even in the distance. It is as though I have used it all up and left myself exhausted."
"I feel the same," Margo told her. "I do not have such powers like most of you elves, but I feel as though I have had all my strength taken from me. It is unnerving to be as weak as a kitten. I barely had the strength to cross the floor."
"Then rest," Keira said. "It is what we needed, and whoever brought us here has provided us with bedding, so it is unlikely they intend to kill us, at least not yet."
"I certainly hope not," Margo said with a yawn and, a moment later, she was fast asleep.
Keira lay awake as the sleeping warrior nuzzled in closer to her and she tried once again to reach for her power, not so much that it would be of much use in this frozen place where nothing grew, but because she felt helpless without it. Strangely, she could still feel the energy that flowed within her but it was as though it was just out of reach, like grasping at something at the ends of her fingertips, and when she tried, she noticed a sharpening in the pain from the tiny objects that had been stuck throughout her body. Exhausted from the effort, she laid her head back upon the soft, thick furs, heeding her own advice to rest.
It was some time later when Ariana awoke to the orange glow of a warm fire, crackling in a stone hearth nearby and she saw Keira and Margo, both of them unclothed, and sitting next to each other on a curved stone bench, warming themselves before the fire. Opposite them, on a matching bench, was woman with pure white hair, not that of one who was aged, for she looked to be no older than Ariana, but as though that was its color. She had very strange, dark markings all over the pale skin of her body and parts of her seemed to glow and glimmer with white light, where countless jewels glittered.
Ariana saw that her two companions were similarly adorned, with jewels embedded all over their bodies, along their arms and legs, as well as numerous points upon their faces and she quickly realized that she too was covered in a similar manner. She slowly climbed out from underneath the furs that covered her, careful not to catch the jewels on anything, her body sensitive and raw in so many places. She felt weak as she slowly rose to her feet and made her way toward the fire, barely able to put one foot in front of the other. Ariana was nearly at the fire when she realized that she could not feel her power and she stopped, panicked at the numbness within her.
"Ariana," Margo said, turning at her approach and smiling with a tired look on her face. "You are awake."
Both Keira and the other woman turned to look at her and the elven woman managed the closest thing to a smile that Ariana had seen from her while the strange looking woman with white hair remained expressionless, though her eyes were sharp and almost predatory, such that Ariana felt all the more naked under her gaze.
"Where are we?" Ariana asked. "And what has been done to us?"
"You are at the edge of the world, between the land of ice and the land of fire," the woman said, her voice dry like a cold winter wind.
"And who are you?"
"I am Dala."
"Dala?"
"Yes, that is what I am called."
"And what have you done to me, to us?" Ariana asked.
"You were saved from death in the frozen wastes," Dala replied.
"That is not what I am asking," Ariana replied.
"We have already asked about the stones," Keira said. "It is no use."
"Yes, these gems or stones," Ariana said. "What are they? I cannot feel my power."
"You are safe here," Dala said.
"Wonderful," Ariana said, her breathing becoming heavy with exhaustion. "You still haven't answered my questions."
"Sit," Dala told her, looking at the space next to her on the stone bench.
"I will not," Ariana said, her temper flaring despite how tired she was.
In an almost imperceptible blur, the woman disappeared from the bench and reappeared right in front of Ariana, holding the sharp tip of a dagger to her throat. The cold prick of the metal felt like it was sapping what little strength she had and Dala barely had to nudge Ariana and she quickly sat down on the stone bench, her legs almost falling out from under her. Dala slid her blade into a sheath strapped to her leg, then she picked up a gnarled piece of wood from a pile next to the fire and tossed it into the flames, and turned to look at the three of them.
"What did you do to me?" Ariana asked, breathless as she tried to grasp her power but found she could not.
"You are strong to be able to speak after the touch of my blade," Dala said.
"Answer me. What have you done to us?"
"I have done nothing," Dala said. "It is you, that has given the stones your strength." She pointed at the jewel on the back of Ariana's wrist, which had taken on a slight but noticeable luminescence. "See, they gather power already."
"These jewels steal my power?"
"You are protected," Dala said. "You cannot be seen in this place."
"I do not understand," Ariana said, but Dala ignored her and poked at the fire with a steel metal rod.
"It is no use," Keira said again with a shrug.
"So we just sit here?" Ariana asked and Dala turned to look at her.
"You will sit when you are told to sit," she said. "It is best that you be still and keep watch on the flames, for the flames destroy the shadows, but left unwatched, the flames will burn."
Even though she could barely move, Ariana still felt the call, the fear and the anger that was like a silent echo, ringing in her ears without sound. She had felt it for the entire journey, growing stronger with every step, over every mountain, and she knew she was close, he was close, and she wanted to go to him, to help him, but there was nothing she could do. Ariana closed her eyes and felt the warmth of the fire, focusing on its heat and letting it feed the anger that she knew was inside of her. She felt a flicker of power deep within her, the power of fire, part of the gift the dragon king had given her, and she felt her own power, still there but stolen away by the stones that covered her body, and she understood their purpose.
"You have stolen my power and made me a prisoner," she said. "Why have you done this?"
"You are stubborn," Dala commented, ignoring her question.
"I am determined," Ariana said.
"Stubborn," Dala said again. "It matters not."
"It matters to me," Ariana told her. "Why have you done this to us?"
Dala turned and looked at her, then she glanced over at Keira and Margo, and stood.
"You will watch the flames," she said. "Reflect upon them and rest."
"And then what?" Ariana asked.
Dala looked down at her, staring at her with her dark, penetrating eyes, and then she turned and walked away from the fire and into the shadows. Ariana felt a slight brush of icy cold air across her bare skin for a brief moment, and she knew that the woman had left wherever it was that they were being held.
