Shade of Destiny (The Foreseeing)

by Shannon M Yarnold

  Arabella would not tell her how to achieve the exercise and as the days progressed Wynn was no closer to finding out. Arabella was just too quick to wrench the stick from, not that strength would have worked, because Wynn was nowhere near as strong as her friend. Wynn’s thoughts were occupied with the task and when she was not practising she was imagining it in her head. Arabella hid her pleasure at it because for the past seven days Wynn had not been morose once, her attention trapped with the task.

  The journey was easier now they were both distracted but on the beginning of the eighth day something strange attracted their attention. They had remained vigilant for any more attacks, from the half breed Hybrid creature or the Charmer, but none had occurred. Now as the trees became progressively thicker – until they had had to cut their way through the foliage, leaving behind them a trail of destruction that could not be helped – the sound of footsteps sounded behind them.

  “Someone is approaching,” Arabella hissed to Wynn as she drew her daggers. Wynn nodded; she could hear them, and feel them. They were human she was sure. Their emotions were clear to feel, which relieved Wynn, every person who had hidden their emotions or had no emotions at all had been strange and dangerous, at least these people approached were easy to read, she felt no malice but she also felt no mercy.

  It did not take long for the unknown assailants to reveal themselves. Three emerged from the undergrowth. Two men and a woman from what their physical appearances demonstrated. The woman was small, with short silver hair cropped to her shoulders and amazing silver eyes that inspected them critically. She wore a short red skirt held in place by a gold metal belt engraved with intricate patterns and a red sleeveless top, cropped to just underneath her breasts. A gold choker held the top to her body. Her feet were bare. The two men flanked her, and were dressed in long trousers, one brilliant silver, the other dazzling blue, and completely topless. Their hair was brown and messily cut; boring compared to the woman they stood beside. Wynn viewed them with open amazement, they were the most unusual people Wynn had ever seen, but what confused her most were the markings over their bodies. She had heard people of other cultures had permanent symbols and markings etched onto their bodies. To see such a technique up close was remarkable.

  “We are peaceful,” Arabella said slowly and laid her daggers down. Wynn pulled her jerkin down to cover the Dagger of Night, she did not wish to reveal it to the strangers, but unsheathed her other two weapons and placed them on the floor with Arabella’s. The woman cocked her head and nodded, stepping forward so she stood face to face with Arabella. Their appearances could not have been more different, Arabella with her olive skin and black flowing hair, the stranger with her crop of silver hair and pale skin. The stranger bowed her head to Arabella and pointed at her chest, “Wolf.” She indicated to the men that accompanied her, “Kylun and Hora.”

  “My name is Arabella,” Arabella said pointing to herself, and then to Wynn, “and this is Wynn.”

  Wolf nodded and indicated for them to follow. Arabella glanced at Wynn who shrugged helplessly. These strangers did not look like people to disobey, though Arabella certainly would try if need be. Wynn wondered why Arabella did not simply disable them with magic, until a single word reverberated in her mind, sent from Arabella straight into her conscious, “Magus.” Wynn did not question anymore and instead they picked up their weapons and followed.

  They were led through the trees in a seemingly random way. Wynn felt her heart sink they moved further away from Berhandril and lost almost two weeks worth of progress. She knew Arabella was feeling the same as her hands were clenched and her emotions screamed out angrily. As they walked Wynn considered how her powers had developed, before everyone’s emotions had rushed at her, attacking her senses and even making her ill. She had hardly noticed that that had diminished. Now she did not even think about feeling what others felt, it was like breathing, like second nature. To lose this ability would be like losing part of herself. Now she was in control, if she wished to delve deeper into someone’s emotions she could, but ignoring it was just as easy. It pleased Wynn that in that respect she was competent.

  “Halt.”

  Wynn stopped unexpectedly and raised her eyes. Before her was a small camp embedded deep into the forest. At least three dozen tents littered the glade, made of a strong, waterproof material Wynn had never encountered. The people wore similar clothes to that of the strangers, but in a range of duller colours. Wolf seemed to be their leader, judging by the quality of her clothes. Wolf signalled something to the people and they stopped working and looked at Wynn and Arabella, who shuffled uncomfortably under their gaze.

  “These are my people,” Wolf indicated to them. Wynn and Arabella nodded respectively unsure what to say. The inhabitants seemed stiff and formal and Wynn could not hold their gaze. Wolf turned to them, her silver eyes blazing, “You will train with us.”

  Arabella started and Wynn knew it was not what she had expected Wolf to say, “We cannot, we must reach the Seminary of Berhandril,” Arabella replied, “We thank you for your offer,” she added hastily.

  Wolf nodded, “If you train with us we will show you a shorter way to reach Berhandril, away from the creatures of magic. I cannot promise you will not encounter any but you will be hidden partly along the way. It is a way long forgotten to the traveller.”

  “Why are you helping us?” Wynn asked softly.

  Wolf looked sadly at her people; they had gone back to working. Weaving the clothes they wore, hammering swords against anvils, churning milk, making arrows, “They are my people, and we have suffered greatly from the creatures She sends.”

  Understanding rose like the morning sun in Wynn’s mind. The half breed creature that had attacked them was not the only one of its kind. She thought of its black beady eyes, razor sharp beak open in fury, huge clawed paws rose in attack.

  “The creatures attack you?” Arabella questioned.

  Wolf nodded forlornly, “We are forced to move every few weeks, they hunt us. Why I cannot say but it has been so since I was a young girl.”

  “That does not explain why you want to help us,” Arabella prompted.

  Wolf smiled wryly, “I know of your travels, and who you are. I wish to help you defeat Her.”

  Wynn knew ‘Her’ meant Aerona. She refrained from mentioning her name as Wolf seemed to want to avoid it. A strange custom Wynn thought but she respected it and made sure not to mention it in future conversations. She felt Arabella’s excitement; she had not practised her combat without the fear of death in so long and no matter how urgent their mission and need to reach the Seminary both knew that a rest – one that would also offer training – was something they could not pass up on.

  “We cannot stay long, but we accept your offer,” Arabella said, her voice raised in excitement. Wolf smiled a half smile and walked off. Wynn looked around and sighed, she could almost hear her muscles crying out in protest at what lay ahead.

  Wynn dreamt that night of her magic. In her dream she was standing alone in a grassy field, the sky a beautiful blue, yellow flowers dotting the land. She was waving her hand, as she would when using her magic, but whatever she wished to do would not happen, instead the flowers before her burst into flames. Wynn tried again, wishing for her magic to obey her, but again the fire raged, flaming close enough to scorch her skin. Wynn jumped back, frightened, holding her head in her hands as though to block the fire from her senses. Her dream self had no idea what was happening but subconsciously Wynn knew what the dream meant, deep inside her the meaning was obvious, at some point in the next few hours she would inherit her birthright of magic and if she did not control it, it would kill her and all those around her. She had not realised how fast time had gone, tomorrow was her birth-day, eighteen summers old. She felt older, like a lifetime had passed her instead of only eighteen summers. Was she ready to grow up and be a Magus? The thought swirled through her conscious, she had no choice, she had to be ready, had to control the magic that
was coming because she knew the consequences if she was too weak.

  Her dream then began to morph, uncontrollably, dark figures danced in front of her eyes, clawing at her sight, the beautiful field and sky transformed into a lifeless, burnt meadow. Darkness reigned and she tried to scream but she was locked fast in the nightmare. She felt herself tense in fear and tried to shield her eyes but whatever she did the figures danced near her, around her, frightening her with their darkness, threatening to hurt her.

  Wynn’s heart began to beat faster. In her dream she clutched her chest, not realising she was imitating the action in real life. The burnt meadow spun uncertainly and Wynn could feel her body stiffen, as well as her dream self. She cried out both in real life and in her dream, but she could see nothing but darkness, choking her, swallowing her. She battled the dream, reasoning with herself, it was her dream was it not? Her mind created it, she could change it. But whatever she wished for the dream refused to transform. Wynn battled with her body and felt the sweat pour down her face. The dream morphed again until there was nothing but blackness, broken by the fire that was spreading through her veins, twisting her muscles and bones. Tears streamed from her closed eyes as she battled to keep control. The dream ended, but Wynn was still trapped in the darkness, and the excruciating burning of the magic in her veins. She grasped the ground, gouging the dirt with her fingers as she tried to grab onto something.

  “Wynn,” a voice urged, Wynn recognised it as Arabella’s, she was gripping her hand and urging her to breath but Wynn could not concentrate enough to follow her instructions. All that mattered was the pain. She could feel her body convulsing as the fire raged inside her. It would be so easy to die now, she thought sadly, but Arabella presence meant she could not. She would not die because she was too weak to hold on, just that bit longer.

  It felt as though hours had passed, sweat trickled down her face, her vision blurred and her mouth became so dry she was sure she had eaten sand. Her brain became confused between reality and her dreams; she saw flashes of Arabella’s worried face and the dark creatures that stalked her. Arabella stayed by her side, instructing her to breathe. Wynn fought the fire, it is only pain, she shrieked inside herself, you have dealt with much worse than pain, pain you can live through, pain you can cope with. And the flames raged against her skin, inside her so that body shivered and rose in a fever simultaneously. She could not see past this pain, but she had to hold on, she accepted the pain, acknowledged it was coming and it lessened. She was not fighting the pain but unleashing its full force, letting it dance through her. The fire carried on burning.

  Arabella gripped Wynn’s hand and watched her body shudder and convulse with pain. Had she looked like this when her magic came to her? It was horrific to watch and her head swam with Wynn’s pain and her screamed thoughts. Nothing but the pain, Wynn was aware of nothing else. Arabella’s heart hammered in her chest, if Wynn let go of the pain, and surrendered her control, there was nothing Arabella could do to save them. Wynn would die, and Arabella almost instantly, but those around her would suffer as Wynn suffered.

  “Hold on,” Arabella urged and she thought Wynn’s face relaxed slightly. The night stretched on and the heat in Wynn’s body turned from burning, raging to a simmer. Slowly it began to ease and the fire in her veins ceased and her heart beat slowly once more. Wynn awoke fully, her body shaking with fatigue. Wynn looked blearily around the tent and saw Arabella leaning over her, gratitude flooded from her and she was glad then that Arabella would be able to feel just how grateful she was. Arabella smiled and fetched a cup of water. Wynn drank it greedily, not caring that it dribbled down her chin and onto the tent floor.

  Silence stretched between them, the enormity of what had occurred was too hard to talk about. Wynn now had the power to destroy Aerona, but she now had become vulnerable to magical and physical attack, the charm her mother had placed on her necklace broken. Wynn instinctively reached up and touched the golden necklace; at her touch it became cold. Wynn had not realised how warm and comforting it had once been.

  Arabella brushed Wynn’s sweat drenched hair from her face, kissed her on the forehead before leaving the tent. Wynn felt a cold breeze dance through the tent and her skin tingled as it brushed her sweat drenched skin. She sighed as the breeze cooled her down and then she was fast asleep.

  9

  Wynn woke to a hand slapping her face gently but urgently. She jumped up, instantly defensive and saw Wolf crouched over her, indicating for her to rise. Wynn released the breath she had been holding and with Wolf’s help rose, still fully dressed and walked out of the tent she had been given the previous night. The morning light was harsh against her eyes and she spent a few minutes yawning and rubbing her face, looking around the camp as she did so. Russet and amber leaves covered the ground and crackled when stepped on. The foliage of the forest was in all shades of brown. The blue sky could be seen through the gaps in the canopy. People walked decisively though the camp, entering burgundy tents. A fire was set up a few meters away, waiting to be lit.

  “I see you are much use in the morning,” Wolf said sarcastically when Wynn had finished. Wynn smiled embarrassedly and tried to seem fully awake. In truth she was more exhausted than she had ever been; what had happened last night had taken its toll on her body. She hoped Wolf did not notice. Wolf turned then and took a pile of clothes from a man, who had appeared and walked away silently. Wynn did not wonder after his silence because Wolf had handed the clothes to her, smiling wryly.

  “Why do I need new clothes?” Wynn asked.

  Wolf smiled wryly, “I feel it is good to have movement when fighting, a skirt allows freedom.”

  “You are more exposed,” Wynn interjected.

  “A good fighter is never struck,” Wolf retaliated, smiling ironically.

  Wynn laughed then and went inside her tent and changed into the clothes. They were exactly the same as Wolf’s but the material was bright green, apparently to match her eyes. She put it on without thinking, unsure why she needed them exactly, she could not believe Wolf expected her to fight after what had occurred, for she surely felt Wynn’s newfound gift as keenly as Wynn felt it in Wolf. Outside Wolf was thinking nothing but happy thoughts, her emotions calm like a river. Wynn felt like a tornado compared to Wolf’s relaxed nature. Gathering her courage Wynn exited her tent and Wolf smiled at her appearance.

  “You look every inch a Manti.”

  “A Manti?”

  “The name for my people,” Wolf explained. Wynn nodded dumbly and allowed herself to be led through the tents and into a small open space to the east of the camp, not entirely sure what was happening. Arabella was already there dressed in an outfit of blue. It complimented her dark skin and hair and Wynn could not help a small flare of jealousy. It disappeared as quickly as it came and she hoped Arabella had not noticed it, Arabella’s wry smile told a different story.

  “You will fight my most experienced men,” Wolf commanded suddenly, and signalled into the trees. Five men stepped from the darkness and into view. Each was topless and covered in the permanent marks. Wynn had heard Wolf call them tattoos. Amongst them were the two men that had accompanied Wolf in the first meeting. Wolf pointed at them and they stopped in front of Wynn and Arabella.

  “No magic,” Wolf said, and this seemed to be the only rule.

  A stranger gave all of the fighters two daggers and then disappeared back into the camp. Wolf indicated to Kylun and he began circling Arabella. Wynn and Hora moved out of the way and stood with Wolf, along with the three other bare-chested men.

  Wynn could feel all of Arabella’s conflicting emotions, happiness at the combat and fear at the thought of losing. She had a look of utmost concentration on her face, this was Arabella’s passion. The art of combat, the thrill of the fight, here at this moment, Arabella was in her element and she was not about to lose. It was Wynn who jumped when Kylun rushed forward; brandishing his daggers, Arabella of course was not surprised, she was focusing entirely on Kyl
un and anticipating his every move and so spun elegantly out of the way, leaves flying in the air in the process. Wynn could not help once again feeling jealous at how graceful Arabella looked. Her long dark hair flew in the breeze, and the outfit she had been given showed off her slim limbs flatteringly.

  Kylun and Arabella were suddenly locked in a vicious battle. Each had their honour and reputation to uphold. Sparks flew as their daggers clashed. Each spun and dodged the others attack expertly, the fighting so vicious that Wynn began to fear for her own battle. She could not fight and until now had relied on magic. This would be completely different.

  A shout brought Wynn back to the battle. Kylun had managed to strike Arabella across the thigh; it was a shallow cut and had bled only a little but it was a cut nonetheless and it had made Arabella angry; it dominated her every thought. She parried the daggers and thrust them towards Kylun, forcing him to move quicker than Wynn had ever seen, he ducked and dodged and flung himself away from the blades, but Arabella was quicker and managed to slice his arm. The wound bubbled with blood and Kylun’s face turned black with rage. He twisted the knives in his grip and spun on the spot, his arm flying, hoping to get a clean shot at Arabella’s temple.

  Arabella anticipated it, as Wynn knew she would, and ducked, throwing her leg out as she did so catching the back of Kylun’s leg. He buckled and tumbled forward, losing his balance. To any other person, it only lasted a few seconds and would have meant nothing to the fight, but Arabella was his enemy and she took advantage. She thrust her knee upwards, catching his chin as he struggled to balance, and hit him hard on the side of his head with the heel of her palm. He fell to the ground like a dead weight, leaves fluttering in the air.