The Blood Wars Trilogy Omnibus: Volumes 1 - 3
Page 18
“I’m … beginning to see that,” Korsten answered, feeling like a naïve child. He suddenly remembered that Ashwin had kissed him and absently touched his lips.
“We have only one another here,” the Mage-Superior continued. “We dare not become involved with non-mages, unless we enjoy the misery that comes of outliving them, of surpassing their youth in what has come to someone of my years to be the equivalent of a breath. It is difficult enough outliving the mages who operate beyond the Seminary walls and who are brought back to us in spirit only, destined to reside in the garden until a piece of them returns in the body of another. We cannot even procreate. The longevity provided to us by the lilies will not allow it. So a union between individuals is purely that; between individuals. There can be no children or aging together to solidify the bond. Committing solely to one individual is a noble intention, but impractical under the circumstances that are in place here. Or so that has come to be my philosophy.”
“Oh,” was all Korsten could think to say.
Ashwin laughed lightly. “I see that I have embarrassed and confused you. Forgive me. It is difficult to explain. Know for now that no one here will think ill of you for any close friendships you may form, regardless of whom they are with.”
Korsten managed to nod, feeling more awkward by the moment. He didn’t want to make friends here or enemies. He didn’t really want anything … except for Ren. Being here seemed the only hope at reaching him again. People could be separated from the Vadryn after becoming occupied. Korsten knew that much and he wanted to learn how, so that he could free Renmyr. Nothing else mattered to him beyond that.
“You will come to understand things better when you have fully bonded with Analee,” Ashwin promised, simultaneously reminding Korsten of the butterfly. “The soul-keeper is the only constant a mage knows throughout his or her career. Analee will be with you always, when friendships grown over centuries are snatched away with the suddenness of lightning striking down a tree. Trust her, Korsten. As she trusts you.”
Korsten looked at the mentioned insect that had been fluttering in his shadow since he dared leave his bed. On impulse, he held out his hand and watched the creature come to him. Her tiny legs tickled over his fingers as she shifted her weightless position and then let her wings drop down. This is madness, Korsten thought to himself, drawing his hand back to inspect the butterfly closer. You’re an insect, a simple little … beautiful bug.
He thought of her coming to him that awful day at the Camirey Manor, touching him, triggering what may have stopped Renmyr from making the worst mistake of their lives beyond that which he’d already made in conspiring with a demon to begin with. Korsten still didn’t understand that. Why, Ren? Gods, why would you do something like that? And you were lying to me … pretending that you didn’t believe … all the while knowing otherwise and making your plans. It must have been the Vadryn’s influence. It must have already made some claim on you. I just can’t believe … that you would…. Analee tickled him again, but this time it was different. The sensation seemed more under his skin than upon it. Or maybe it was both, like a thread pulling through fabric. There was no pain, just a peculiar … indescribable feeling of surrender. No, it was more mutual than that. Whatever the tiny red creature was doing, Korsten was letting her. Why not? She isn’t hurting me. In fact, the pain inside of him may have been numbing if it wasn’t leaving him altogether.
No, it isn’t leaving. I can still feel you, Ren, and that hurts like Hell’s depths. But I don’t think the pain is gripping me quite like it has been. Perhaps I’m sharing it with Analee and that will allow me to concentrate on other things, like learning how to save you, Ren. To save you from yourself, if I must … if you can’t see where you went wrong. You’re everything to me, Ren. I’m not going to lose you to some beast.
Korsten felt himself relaxing, inside and out. He crouched down and eventually sank onto his knees, still balancing Analee on his fingers. Though he still felt grief, he no longer felt alone. He felt somehow connected to this creature, who was so much more than a mere butterfly, and thought that he felt a presence inside of her; himself and the individual whose soul she had been born from. Adrea was her name. Analee was the name she’d always wanted to give to a daughter, but her magehood denied her motherhood. She died with many years behind her, but she was still very young. She’d chosen Korsten to be her successor at the moment of his conception because she’d read his newly born soul and saw that he would never be inclined to sire children. It would not have been a loss for him and it would be one less agony for him to suffer as he entered his new … and very long life.
Perhaps a wise woman, Korsten thought as he sat still upon the marble floor beneath him. I’ve never wanted to create a new family and I don’t miss my old one. But I did have a family in Haddowyn. You didn’t anticipate that, Adrea. How could you? Perhaps you even thought I would find freedom at the Seminary, being the way I am, having come from an environment where my nature is not only considered perverse, but entirely unacceptable. Knowing a miserable, oppressive life, I should welcome the sympathy and tolerance offered here, but how could you know that I would find Renmyr? You couldn’t. And you chose as best and fairly as you could. I won’t begrudge you that, Adrea, and I will accept what you have given me … but I won’t ever leave the life I had behind me. I’m going to save Renmyr … if it kills both of us.
Korsten finished the thought without shedding a single tear, and then stood. He looked Ashwin directly in the eyes and said quietly, “I believe I am ready now.”
The Mage-Superior smiled. “Then let your education truly begin,” he said and offered one of the weapons he’d retrieved while Korsten was communing with the ghost of Adrea, or the idea of his predecessor, at any rate. He’d had to give a part of himself to Analee in order to do it, but he had an unexplainable feeling he’d just placed his soul in very safe keeping.
Korsten returned to his room hurting everywhere. Ashwin proved a better opponent than he’d anticipated. Gods, one would think that his Ambience was Endurance rather than Empathy. The day is gone and I didn’t learn anything more than how to keep him from bruising every inch of me. Perhaps that was punishment of some kind for my not answering his invitation to be a little more than just his student.
The bed came into Korsten’s path and he fell onto it. He is damnably beautiful, and an empath. He could probably convince me that I was being healed somehow … that it was part of some justified treatment and that I wouldn’t be betraying Renmyr … if I would let him. But I won’t, because it would betray Renmyr. It’s nothing at all like Ren bedding some woman he doesn’t have a care for as he tries to stave off suspicion concerning us. I wouldn’t trust myself to simply have sex with a man like Ashwin, even if that was my intention. At some point it would evolve into lovemaking and then we’d both be miserable as he felt my terrible regret over having strayed from the one I love dearest. And I don’t even want to consider what Sharlotte might try to do to me anyway if she were to learn that Ashwin and I had had a more intimate lesson than had been scheduled for the day. The woman is positively a tyrant.
“You look ghastly,” someone informed him needlessly.
Korsten rolled over just as Merran typically helped himself to a seat at the edge of the bed. “I’ve witnessed rugs take less of a beating. I never would have guessed Ashwin to be so merciless.”
Merran almost smiled. “I told you today would be strenuous.”
“Yes, you did,” Korsten answered, giving his gaze to the ceiling. He studied it for a moment, then narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t hear you come in. I thought we’d established the courtesy of a knock before entering.”
“The door wasn’t closed,” Merran said.
“Oh … well, perhaps you could go back into the hall and I could close it then.”
Merran changed the subject. “You’ve bonded fully with Analee. I can tell.”
Ko
rsten glanced at his prone form. “Am I thinner?”
And it was then, for the first time, that Merran actually laughed. It was nothing hearty, but it was laughter all the same. Silence followed the unexpected sound. And then he asked, “Did Ashwin grace you with any bruises?”
“You mean it isn’t part of the lesson to suffer?”
“Where do you hurt?” Merran asked clinically.
“Everywhere,” Korsten answered, then rose from the bed. He walked to the wash basin set neatly into the arced alcove across the comfortable width of the floor and found steaming water waiting for him. I thought I smelled bath cologne. Bless the Apprentice who read my mind and knew I’d love to have a good long soaking after my narrow escape from death by acute exhaustion.
Korsten peeled off his shirt and found a patch of discoloration at his wrist. I wonder if I got you anywhere, Mage-Superior Ashwin. I can’t remember landing even one blow. At least the blades were blunted. I was so tired this morning and Sharlotte was so vehement, I thought sure they weren’t. He proceeded to strip down and had himself almost fully immersed in water that was wonderfully just short of scalding when he noticed the absence of his physician.
The Mage-Adept was still perched on the edge of the bed, staring at the door he’d had the presence of mind to close behind him. He appeared deeply lost in his thoughts. Korsten wondered if he should let him be and suffer with the bruises and the muscle aches.
Before he’d decided, Merran stood and came to the bath. He rolled back his sleeves and knelt beside his patient. “You are used to being catered after, aren’t you?”
Korsten couldn’t deny it, but he felt suddenly remiss for his behavior … all of it. He stared glumly into the water and let Merran have his bruised wrist. The man worked his magic and the pain went quickly away. It took considerably longer for Korsten to swallow his pride and to say, “Merran, I’m sorry.”
The Mage-Adept scarcely stopped his healing efforts, just long enough to glance at his patient. “You’re what?”
Korsten gave him a non-angry glare. “I’m trying to apologize, bastard. You might make it a little easier than that.”
Merran gave his blue eyes back to his work, which had quickly come to Korsten’s shoulder. “It isn’t necessary for you to apologize to me. You’ve been under unreasonable duress and I’ve done nothing to alleviate that. Perhaps I’ve been cruel, but perhaps I’ve witnessed too much of the Vadryn’s cruelty. I know what Camirey meant to you….”
“What he means to me,” Korsten corrected.
Merran’s touchless spell traveled across his patient’s chest. “What he means to you,” the Mage-Adept conceded, leaning to reach Korsten’s other shoulder. “I should have been more patient.”
“Three months isn’t patient?” Korsten wondered aloud, staring helplessly as he was given a very close view of a stoic profile. Merran’s nose had a vaguely bent aspect to it … not overmuch, and his brow and chin were both very nicely defined. This particular view enabled Korsten to also realize that Merran had longer eyelashes than he seemed to have at a distance. They appeared darker against the intense blue of his eyes. It wasn’t difficult to understand what Lerissa saw in him. They were probably a good pairing, with her cheerful enthusiasm to balance his grave severity.
How much do you love her, I wonder? Is that why you looked so unhappy before? Not only because of the Vadryn, but because you were away from her?
“I think I’ll be all right now,” Korsten said without planning to. He watched Merran withdraw, appearing a bit confused. “Thank you, Merran. You should go.”
Merran looked at him, revealing nothing in his expression about just how eagerly he may have wanted to leave. “I know what I said before, but it actually isn’t any trouble to perform the spell.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me that rest and time won’t recover,” Korsten told him. “Not on the outside anyway. Please, go. I don’t wish to keep you here any longer.”
Merran didn’t argue any further. He simply stood and headed for the door, as calm and quiet as he’d ever been.
Korsten waited for him to reach the door and to pass through it before sinking back and drawing a deep breath. There’s no reason for everyone who comes into contact with me to suffer. I think Ashwin’s spell-touch has finally faded completely … if I’m qualified to gauge such a thing. I won’t have to feel guilty about crying when I go to my empty bed and think of Ren, like I know I’m going to.
I don’t feel on the verge of tears all the time now that I’ve accepted Analee, someone who can share my burden without making me feel guilty, but the depression remains.
A tear obscured Korsten’s vision just then, confirming that he still had some left to shed in spite of the weight Analee had lifted from him. Gods, I miss you, Ren. And it hasn’t even fully dawned on me yet just how very far away you happen to be. I’ve slept away more than three months of my life and then I tried to end it because I thought our life together was over. Was I right in thinking that, Ren? I still see the image Analee gave me, of you walking away. I might have been dead, Renmyr, and you … you didn’t…. Korsten sat forward and dropped his face into both hands. He learned that he could still weep and he learned also that it felt better to do so now, because he wasn’t weeping alone. Above the link he and Ashwin had experienced, that had enabled the Mage-Superior to sense and reflect Korsten’s feelings, Analee actually shared them. Without looking at her, Korsten could see the butterfly settled on the rim of the bath, her wings flattened; a dollop of perfect misery.
Korsten sat quickly upright from a restless sleep. The nightmare ended with consciousness, but he still saw the images of blood and of demons. They were demons born of Renmyr’s murdered family, stalking to Haddowyn from the manor, killing everyone in the city. Korsten stood a helpless witness to the scene. Someone was standing with him. Someone he couldn’t identify in the dream, who told him it was better that demons take the town than Morenne. The individual went on to contradict themselves by suggesting that maybe the Morennish king had arranged it. Korsten remembered telling the stranger, a man, he thought, that he was wrong. He went home after that and watched the Vadryn piling up around his house, wanting to get inside, clawing at the walls and leering through the windows. Korsten recalled himself heading for his library … and then he woke up.
He still expected to be home, in Haddowyn. It disturbed him that he wasn’t, but not quite as much as before. He lay back and found Analee clinging to the bed curtains. Then he closed his eyes, opening them again as he felt a sting at his neck. He lifted his hand instinctively to the area of complaint and found the wound he’d felt before. It felt warm and sticky to the touch, as if it still hadn’t healed. But that’s impossible. Merran worked the healing spell over the area just last night. It should be healed … but it isn’t.
Korsten looked at his fingers in the grayness of very early morning and saw them wet with blood. Not much, but it disturbed him that there was any at all. Maybe Merran’s magic doesn’t cure infection. Still, it can’t be all that bad. He must have seen it and, based on his previous efforts, if he believed it to be life threatening, he would have done something about it.
Korsten didn’t want to linger on the matter and rose early. He cleaned the angry wound and slipped into hose and breeches, but no shirt yet, so as to avoid ruining the garment while the stubborn injury continued to ooze a bit. He stretched through lingering muscle aches, wondering what torture Ashwin had in store for him today.
Allurance, Balance, Quick, Reasoning, Will, and Song … these are supposed to be my gifts, though two remain dormant. One is stronger than the rest with the potential for Ambience, the most powerful state a gift can arrive at. Allurance … what exactly does such a gift entail? It relates to red on the Spectrum. That makes it physical and because red is the color I’m to focus on primarily, that gives Balance and Quick physical emphasis as well, though each extend into br
own. Brown … as in awareness of the world around oneself. So does that mean, then, that I’ll be less likely to slip in a puddle of mud? This is still very confusing to me.
Korsten performed a particularly indulgent stretch, arching his back as far as was humanly possible without falling over backwards. And then he did fall back, voluntarily, though somewhat absently, and let his hands catch him. And how will I know when any of these talents have reached Resonance? According to others, that’s the first truly workable state of a gift. Slowly, Korsten put all of his weight on his arms, stood briefly on his hands, then neatly swung his feet back to the floor and was standing upright again.
What if they never Resonate? Korsten sat down on the floor, then spread his legs straight outward and, planting his hands firmly on the floor in front of him, lifted himself up. He hovered motionless for a moment or two, then raised himself higher, bringing his legs together again, and finding himself in the midst of another handstand. He walked out of it and headed for the balcony.
He stopped at the first archway, suddenly aware. “Analee….”
Korsten decided not to dwell on it and proceeded onto the balcony, where he leaned against the balustrade and gazed out across the rooftops of Vassenleigh. The city was walled, gathered at the base of the Seminary as if in a parent’s protective embrace. Not so long ago that protection failed. Why had the people come back? Why did the survivors stay? What made them trust the order that had failed them, many of who were the very same mages present during the Vadryn’s attack? There was no question that the event weighed heavy on Ashwin’s heart. The pain in his eyes that day he explained it … the pain Korsten felt through him … it was….