by T. A. Miles
Korsten forced himself to relax a little. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, situating his head on Ashwin’s shoulder. “It was worse than anything I’d ever dreamed.”
“You don’t have to think of it now. Or ever, for that matter.”
Korsten wished that were true. However, “Morenne and the Vadryn have teamed against us.”
“I suspected as much,” Ashwin replied quietly.
Korsten accepted that with silence that didn’t last. “There was a lesser demon there … a tainted soul, I believe, not a true Vadryn. He asked about you.”
Ashwin allowed the statement to settle, then said, “A great many years ago I succeeded in ousting a Master of the Vadryn from its chosen vessel. I wasn’t able to destroy the demon, but somehow the human host managed to survive after almost a century being bonded with it. The individual, I came to discover, was of a particularly strong bloodline. The Vadryn spend centuries searching for such hosts. It is not easy establishing a mutual union. Naturally, the demon resents me for my interference. It will hold a grudge forever, I imagine, until one or the other of us is dead. I’ve been tracking it with the aid of field Adepts, hoping to destroy it before it could retrace the bloodline it had been severed from. Unfortunately, I was unable to do so. It found … I believe it was helped to find a descendant of its original host to occupy. A willing descendant.”
“Renmyr,” Korsten whispered.
Ashwin’s silence was all the affirmation required. It was true.
“So, you see,” the Mage-Superior said in the familiar tone he used when he wanted to suppress his emotions. “It was not false hope I offered you before, Korsten. It is possible to release his soul from the demon … and for him to survive it.”
Korsten couldn’t say anything. He let his face sink a little more against Ashwin’s shoulder.
His mentor took his hand and held it with the caution of a man handling a bird’s broken wing. “Perhaps this is not the time for such discussion, but I want to tell you … I know how you feel, Korsten. However, my feelings have not changed. If anything, they’ve grown stronger … strong enough that I don’t have to have you completely. Just having you at all is enough. There is no one else who makes me this happy.”
Korsten could only stare at him, listening to him offering what Korsten had wanted once … before Renmyr. He’d dreamt of such romantic notions as a love that didn’t make demands, but that simply was, that existed without expectations or stipulations. He’d dreamt of it when he was a child, too foolish to understand the way of things. He felt like a child now, believing in a dream’s possibility. He could have this ideal love. He could have it here, with Ashwin. There was no one to hide from, no reason not to trust.
“There is nothing I feared so greatly as losing you,” Ashwin continued. “After all my years in this world, I cannot say such a thing lightly. I mean it, Korsten, with all that I am. I have never loved as I love you. If I had you at night only to sleep beside me, I would be content. You needn’t betray the love you still hold for the one you lost. Though I have strove and will continue to strive to earn it, I would not ask for your heart now. I know it is not something that you can give at this time. I only ask that you be with me, in whatever capacity suits you.”
Korsten kept Ashwin’s hand. He didn’t want to let it go. He didn’t want to let go what the other man was offering him, but…. “I’m your student and your friend, Ashwin. I will always be that, but I don’t know if I can be anything more. In spite of your words, that have touched me deeply, I think it would only hurt you if I were to offer you anything less than my heart. You deserve more, and you don’t know how I wish that I could be the one to give it to you, that I could be the one to have the love you….”
Ashwin stopped him by lightly touching his face. “You have it,” he whispered with tears behind his smile. “Whether you will accept it or not. I love you.” And then he came forward and softly kissed Korsten’s brow. “Now rest, my dear. Don’t be troubled with our conversation. Nothing has changed.”
No. Nothing had changed. Korsten had known for years about Ashwin’s feelings for him and Ashwin was accustomed to being pushed away. Even after such a meaningful confession, he still accepted Korsten’s stubborn…. though maybe more reluctant rejection with a patient smile.
I must be a fool, Korsten thought to himself, failing to cry in the enduring warmth of Ashwin’s embrace. I am a fool, because I can’t stop thinking about you, Ren. After all that’s happened, I should be able to let go. I should be able to hate you, but I can’t help that I still love you. I’m going to save you, Ren … even if it means killing us both.
Another week passed. Korsten lay with his mentor, receiving nothing but the careful affection he had always received, from the moment he and Ashwin first met in the lily garden. Perhaps it was unfair of Korsten to test Ashwin this way, knowing how the elder felt about him, but he needed his mentor right now. After all that had happened, he needed to feel loved not wanted, protected rather than simply looked after. Yes, Ashwin’s interests extended beyond platonic, but the Mage-Superior could pretend very well that they didn’t. And for the days Korsten was conscious, showing and feeling tremendous improvement, he and Ashwin were as too very young friends, taking advantage of a shared illness They sat together and talked, and shared meals, and complained mutually about the frequent interruptions provided by the Apprentices Eisleth had stationed outside the room. Later they would agree that it was better to be pestered than to have no one caring and during those sober moments Ashwin would sometimes resume his role as teacher and present his recovering student with books to read. Korsten welcomed them. In fact, when his mentor, who had taken to moving about the room more frequently than Korsten, took it upon himself to gently strum one of the stringed instruments Korsten had never before noticed adorning various places of the room, he rather enjoyed his study time. He thought of Lerissa, who had surely inherited her talents from her ancestor. That, of course, included his mischief. Memories of Lerissa made him think of Sharlotte, who had been Ashwin’s spouse, and Korsten was again thinking of Ashwin’s beautiful confession, which now seemed oddly more like a proposal.
It was on the sixteenth evening of his recovery that Korsten felt well enough to carry himself to the bench occupying Ashwin’s balcony. He sat with his robes gathered about him, lounging at one end of the bench, gazing up at the waking stars.
Ashwin eventually joined him, sitting on the edge of the bench, within easy reach. Korsten shifted his focus from the stars to his mentor, wondering which was a more beautiful view while waiting for the other man to speak. Ashwin didn’t. Perhaps by now he didn’t have to.
Korsten sat silently forward, summoning Ashwin to look at him with his touch. He hesitated just a moment before kissing the other man softly on the mouth. Ashwin let him. He did a little more than let him, but he was careful not to take advantage of the situation. If only he had some idea of how much that meant to Korsten … or perhaps he did.
Korsten withdrew slowly and kept his hands on his mentor when he said, “I do love you, Ashwin … more than I can describe even to myself and certainly beyond what I can demonstrate to you. You’ve inspired me and protected me, and shown only kindness to me, even when I’ve shown you ingratitude in return. You’re everything I once would have wanted. If I were a very young man again, the phantom in my silly romantic dreams would look like you, and if ever you came to me, I wouldn’t believe it, because I can’t believe an angel would have time or care for a foolish mortal like myself.”
Ashwin laughed. “I’m far from angelic, but thank you for the thought.”
“You are an angel, Ashwin. You’re my angel. You’ve guarded me and guided me, and I am more grateful than you may ever know. What I’m trying to say is, that it isn’t Renmyr that keeps me from you. I know now that it’s me. I can’t accept you.”
Ashwin was beginning to frown unhappily.
“I’m not sure that I understand you.”
“I’m not sure that I understand myself,” Korsten answered, sitting back again, giving his gaze to the stars. “I only know that I can’t accept you yet. I’m trying to hold onto too much already and….” He looked at Ashwin again, directly into his misting green eyes. A single tear rolled down his own cheek. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”
Ashwin leaned forward and brushed the moisture from Korsten’s face. “Say nothing more,” he whispered. “I understand.” And then it seemed he might kiss Korsten, who would surely have let him—he may have allowed more at that moment—but Ashwin touched their brows together instead, proving his nobility once again. “I understand,” he repeated, as if telling it to himself.
Korsten cupped his mentor’s face in both hands and kissed his forehead, then folded his arms around him. “Ashwin … thank you.”
He left his mentor’s room that night, and slept alone in his own bed. He was well enough now, physically and emotionally to move on. He would never forget what had happened to him at Lilende and during his stay in that enemy stronghold, but he could resume normal life at the Seminary; if life at the Seminary could be considered in any way normal. Whether it was or wasn’t, it was home now to Korsten. He belonged among his fellow mages, who had become his family. Their cause was his. In the same way, Renmyr had adopted the Vadryn.
We’ve become enemies, Ren. There’s nothing for it now, except for each of us to play out our roles. Our separate roles. You’ve made that clear to me by now. And though it hurts, I can’t cry over it right now, love; there’s too much on my mind. Perhaps later.
Crouched in the middle archway that lined his balcony, Korsten watched morning come. He let his mind wander and felt himself relaxing, though it still hurt a little to breathe. He tried not to think of Renmyr, and when a knock came at his door, he recalled the individual he hadn’t been thinking about much at all throughout his ordeal. He couldn’t say why Merran escaped his thoughts, but he stood as the other mage entered, and felt remorse and relief simultaneously watching him come across the room. He seemed to be in no hurry, same as always. Korsten waited for him patiently, and when the other man stopped, placing himself more than an arm’s length away, he stepped toward him and put his arms around him.
“And you thought you were rid of me, didn’t you?” Korsten whispered over Merran’s shoulder, smiling, even though he was crying.
Merran didn’t tease him back. He hugged him, carefully at first, and then tightly. Unexpectedly, he dropped his face onto Korsten’s shoulder, muffling a sudden sob.
Korsten should have been shocked, witnessing his friend in tears for the first time, but somehow he wasn’t. He stayed in Merran’s arms, and hushed him when he tried to speak. “I didn’t cry for you, Merran. I knew you were safe and I knew you’d get back here, where Ashwin would wrap you in the garden vines if he had to in order to keep you from placing yourself in danger again with the hopes of righting what went wrong. My capture was my blame and my task to resolve. I managed to come back alive, though barely. I had hoped you would be proud.”
Merran calmed himself somewhat in the next moment, drawing himself up and lifting one hand to the back of Korsten’s head, pressing him closer. “I am proud, Korsten. I should never have doubted you.”
“I never believed you did,” Korsten replied. “You’ve been a source of strength for me, Merran. I….”
“Has Ashwin told you nothing?” Merran interrupted quietly.
“Concerning what? Are you leaving on another assignment already?”
“No, Korsten. I….” Merran drew back, placing his hands on Korsten’s arms, as always assailing him with the severity in his eyes. “I’ve lied to you,” he confessed, and while Korsten remained confused, he added, “I’ve been deceiving you for some time now. I don’t know how long for certain. I can’t tell you when it … when I….”
Korsten lifted his fingertips to Merran’s mouth suddenly. He didn’t know why exactly. Merran didn’t often waste words, so undoubtedly what he had to say was important, but Korsten didn’t want to let him continue. Without fully understanding the awkward moment, he said, “Nothing you have ever done for me has felt like a deception to me.” He transferred his touch from Merran’s lips to his cheek, brushing away a tear with his thumb. “Perhaps we’ve been deceiving ourselves.”
Merran closed his eyes, as if to hide the tears that had already been revealed. “If that were so, what would you suggest we do?”
“Maybe nothing,” Korsten replied, as if he knew what they were talking about. “Ashwin did tell me something during our recovery, actually.”
Opening his eyes again, Merran asked, “And what was that?”
Korsten withdrew his hand and smiled at one friend while quoting another. “Nothing has changed.”
Merran walked away from him, toward the balcony railing, where he braced his hands and sighed into the morning. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Korsten joined him at the balustrade. “Don’t I?” In a moment, he sighed himself. “Things can change, Merran, but that doesn’t mean that they have to just now. Nothing can truly change for me until I’ve done what Renmyr needs me to do for him. He’s going to fight me every step of the way, of course. He’s always been stubborn, but he’ll have to see things my way this time. His very soul depends on it.”
“You still love him.”
“Yes, I do.”
“And what of Ashwin?”
“We have always understood each other.” Korsten smiled at his friend. “Which is perhaps more than I can say for you and I.”
“Well more,” Merran replied.
And they left it at that, which was precisely where it needed to be. Nothing had ended, and nothing had changed, nothing that had not already been well on its way to changing forever. And that was life’s constant course; to change and to challenge those who lived it to survive and to grow … to renew itself and continue on, just as it had at the Seminary, reflective each day in the lilies in the garden, and the blood each of the mages carried, and the magic stored in their souls, and in the souls of all living things. The Vadryn would bring all of it down, if allowed. Korsten would not allow it. He had answered his calling, and he would be committed to it now, until the magic he’d been granted had been spent and Analee brought what remained back here to begin the cycle again.
But that’s a long way off, he told himself. It would be a long road finding and releasing Renmyr, and until then….
Until then, there would be other souls to protect.
Dacia ran, like she had never run in her life. The streets of Indhovan were black and blue; shadows lain upon long strips of cobblestone illuminated by full moonlight. Scarcely a body had ventured out. Everyone had grown wiser in recent days; smart enough to leave the later hours alone and stay indoors, else become a victim of the city’s resident killer. A murderer beyond human, Dacia had learned. It had come at her from the shadows themselves, and would have got her if not for a sudden flash of light that had taken its own toll. For several paces, she had been running blind, her vision a blur of bright shapes after whatever it was had struck. Not lightning. There wasn’t a cloud for the moon to share a sky with tonight.
Holding her skirts to keep them out from beneath her feet, she sprinted in the light, careful to stay clear of the many storied buildings and the long shadows they cast. Getting home never seemed like such a task. And getting home, she recalled with suddenness that forced her to slow her steps, required traversing a corridor between buildings. Breathing in rapid draws that were beginning to ache, she brought herself to a halt before a wide alley with lanterns to introduce the start of it and a heavy layer of darkness looming over the pavement which led to the other side. She bent over for a moment, taking in more deliberate swallows of air while she glanced over her shoulder. The way behind her was as abandone
d as when she’d gone through it moments before. Still, she felt pursued … loomed over by a presence she’d only gotten a taste of before the gods gave her a narrow margin of opportunity. She’d taken it swiftly, but now she hesitated. What if it lay ahead of her, whatever it was?
A demon.
The notion slid across the front of her mind like a clawed finger, making a scratch that flared with panic. Watching the edges of the shadows carefully, she took a step back. She would find another route. On that decision, Dacia wheeled around, directly into something that struck her hard in the collar region and propelled her back several steps, too quickly to register anything more than shock. Even as her body smacked against stone and the air burst from her lungs, there was no time to realize what had happened. In a heart’s beat, she was down. In an even smaller measure, she was looking into eyes above her, like hot coals against a smattering of ashes. In the span of a breath, those eyes were joined by another glow; the glint of fire that soared suddenly downward, and embedded itself deep within her.
The flame entered Dacia’s body at once freezing and burning. It flew through the skin as if that barrier were nothing more than parchment and sunk heavily into flesh, scarcely delayed in its burrowing path by the fragile cage that protected her heart. And in the moment of indescribable agony that ensued, Dacia may have screamed. The blackness that followed the fire’s dive into her breast was the only thing that lingered, and even that was surprisingly and mercilessly brief. She had wanted that darkness in the moments it was offered. She wanted it because she feared whatever might come afterward. The darkness promised death in its winking visit, passing without another moment granted to understanding or regretting it. She should have been dead in that span, but she felt more than death in that small darkness. There was a presence within it, one that moved past and around Dacia’s soul as it clung to her body and anchored her to life. The presence danced about her heart, ran laughing through it, fondled it, embraced it, and then wrapped Dacia wholly in a warmth that hid her away from death and that quickly became an exquisite fire beneath her skin and within her mind.
