by Lexy Wolfe
"You call her destroying the dining room table and leaving a discussion?" The mage arched an eyebrow. "I would have called it a fight, not a discussion."
Skyfire smiled, his white teeth bright against his darker skin. "There were words exchanged. Understanding was found. It was a discussion. I suppose the method is more typical of my people than yours."
"Indeed." Terrence paused a moment, considering. "Have the lessons at the Academy been going well? The Se'edai worries that the prejudices of my people for yours may be making things difficult.
"It is challenging." Skyfire shrugged one shoulder. "Though not as difficult as I expected it to be. Many of the older students seem resentful, though the younger ones are more curious and want to know more. The Se'edai Magus frequently attends and seems as eager as the youngsters."
Terrence chuckled. "Well, he is Master Ash's great uncle. I suppose such untarnished love of learning is hereditary." Sighing softly, he stated, "Master Ellis told me that the cause of the Great War was because mages refused to try to understand warriors. And..."
"And warriors refused to try to understand the mages," Skyfire finished for him. He shrugged off Terrence's surprise. "It is a realization that Storm and I have come to since we had left Desantiva. It is why her father left her here, because Forenten seem to revel in learning about things outside their own ways even for all their prejudices for outside things. Desanti are still too suspicious of outlanders to be willing to listen." He smiled wanly. "To build trust requires understanding, and it is easier to start with those more likely to be willing to listen."
Terrence nodded, a half smile on his lips. "And helping to teach my people is why you stayed with her?"
"No. I stay with Storm for the same reason I left Desantiva with her." Skyfire looked upwards at the twinkling stars beginning to show in the crisp early evening sky, silent for a long time. "Understand, my friend. The ties between the people of our tribes is more than just words. It is..." failing to find the words in trade common, the Desanti man switched to Swordanzen. "The bonds are deep. We are friends. Brothers and sisters. We live with and for each other. To become Swordanzen is to break ties with the tribe for the sake of all tribes."
Terrence nodded. "I remember when Mistress Storm spoke of that once."
Shaking his head, Skyfire said sharply, "No! Understand! A Desanti without a tribe..." He pounded his chest over his heart with short, sharp raps. "...They start to wither inside. The spirit dies without companionship. Few Swordanzen can endure the solitude before they either choose to become Tyluri or their will to survive no longer has the sharp edge needed to survive a challenge and they cross the sword to join the sky warriors when they falter. Most do not last longer than five summers. Storm has been Swordanzen for nearly seven."
Skyfire's simple words evoked a strong reaction, Terrence looking away to hide his sudden pallor when his heart jumped. "Why doesn't Storm become Tyluri then?"
"She cannot. Githalin Swordanzen are what they are until they cross the sword in death. To be without companionship for too long is fatal to our people." Skyfire's expression became solemnly sad. "Storm is no different."
"But she has been a Swordanzen for so long!" Terrence fidgeted, absently tugging at his robe's collar.
Skyfire frowned a little, watching Terrence closely. "She has the drizar. And she has had th'yala. Losing Chase nearly broke her. Were it not for the traditions of the Time of Gathering, someone would have challenged her and she would likely not have survived."
"Our coming to Desantiva saved her life?"
"Unquestionably."
"But... She has Master Ash..." Terrence began, though the turmoil of Dzee's memories had bubbled up as Skyfire spoke, memories of others before the destruction who sought danger until they died when they were cast out of tribes in disgrace.
"Lord Ash and Storm will always be like oil and water, even if they finally come to an understanding." Skyfire shook Terrence's shoulder. "What torments you, Terrence? You are pale even for one of your own."
Closing his eyes, Terrence held his head as he forced coherence back to his thoughts. He felt Skyfire's hand squeezing his shoulder. "Dzee's memories... It would be so easy to lose myself within them," he confessed painfully through gritted teeth. "They grow stronger whenever I focus on Desantiva."
"You must not let the ghosts be stronger than you," Skyfire said in a low voice, as if he could will his strength to the young mage to help him. He frowned worriedly. "It has been months since Dzee was with you. The confusion should not have lasted this long."
"It is as if the Great War is happening in my head." Cringing more, Terrence shook his head as if the motion itself would still his thoughts. "I have tried all I know to keep this at bay. I don't know what else to do!"
Pressing his lips together, Skyfire reached to Terrence's belt, unsheathing the Desanti knife that the Heart of Desantiva had given to him then wrapping the mage's hand around the hilt. "You must call her."
"Wh-what?" Squinting up at Skyfire, Terrence looked bewildered at the statement. "Call who? Dzee? How? She is in Desantiva, not Forenta." Gritting his teeth, he pointed out, "and I am not Swordanzen."
"It is called blood magic. Any with the purity of purpose and strength of will are able to call the Totani." Skyfire's words were spoken with such certainty, Terrence could not deny his belief. "When she was within you, she must have chosen you to be more than a mere host. She shared herself with you." He paused before stating with grave reverence, "You are Githalin."
"But I am not a Swordanzen!" Terrence argued desperately.
"It has nothing to do with being a Swordanzen and everything to do with the Totani. Githalin is more than simply being chosen and Named by a Totani. It is being bonded to the Totani."
"But I am not Desanti! I do not even know much about your people since the Great War," Terrence protested, looking at the gleaming knife in his hand. "How can I teach if I know nothing about Desantiva as it is now?"
"Then I will teach you! But right now, you must call her! It is the only way." He grabbed Terrence's other hand, folding it around the knife blade. "You were strong enough to carry her spirit before. You are strong enough for this." With soft intensity, he said, "Blood calls to blood, the blade guides their way. It is how they can go to those who call them."
Shaking, Terrence closed his eyes. Before he could change his mind, he squeezed the blade and pulled it free, slicing his palm open and driving the blade into the wood as he begged, "Dzee, help me! I need you!"
The sound of wings above them drew the men's attentions upwards as an ethereal, rainbow-hued wyvern glided to the branch, landing between them and the main trunk of the tree, her claws digging into the wood as she settled. "I hear you, Terrence. I am here." Her shape melted to the more familiar humanoid form as she knelt by the mage, folding her arms around him to embrace him tightly. "You have been suffering so much without complaint. I feared you would be too long in calling me."
"Dzee," Terrence whispered, eyes shut tightly. "I have tried to be strong like Storm and Skyfire, but I can't—"
Skyfire knelt before the Totani, lowering his eyes respectfully. "Your memories threaten the mage within him, Daughter of Light."
"I know." Dzee looked down at Terrence. "Many things had changed between the time I was lost and when I was restored. I was not whole when I chose you, Terrence, and for the pain that flawed tie has caused you, I beg forgiveness." She paused a moment. "I am whole now, but I will not force the choice on you as my siblings often do with their Githalin, because the cost is high. Moreso for you, child of the North."
Terrence clenched his bleeding hand as he released the Totani from his embrace to look up at her. "Choice?"
Dzee nodded once. "I can expunge that part of myself that lingers within you still and set you free of me forever. Or I can complete the bond properly and make you my Githalin completely."
"But I am Forentan," Terrence protested, feeling light headed from the gradual loss of blood and
energy required to hold the Totani here. "I could not dishonor Skyfire and Storm's people..."
"It is no dishonor," Skyfire stated without hesitation. "I would be privileged to call you brother."
Terrence blinked and met Skyfire's eyes for several heartbeats, the Desanti man nodding imperceptibly. Finally, the mage looked up at Dzee and nodded. "I do not want to lose you, Dzee. Or Desantiva."
Dzee nodded, smiling as she put her hand on his shoulder. The lines of tension eased as Terrence's pallor did, the Forentan man sagging in relief. "Peace, Sumyr. Now remove the blade and release me. I do not want you bleeding to death now that we have found each other." Stepping away, she looked to Skyfire. "Bind his wound. Teach him well. We will learn about this world we find ourselves in together, he and I." Skyfire put his hand around Terrence's, helping the weak journeyman pull the knife free. Returning to her wyvern shape, Dzee took wing and disappeared. Skyfire caught the young Forentan as he passed out.
The Desanti man's eyes widened as a pendant of crossed, single-edged swords caught the light when it shifted on the gold chain around Terrence's neck. He grinned as he eased Terrence back to safety. He pulled his headband off to wrap the gash in the young mage's hand that had already begun to close. "Welcome to the circle, Brother."
Chapter 39
Mureln sat on one of the chairs by the tree wall, idly playing his mandolin while Storm sat in the midst of a circle of young Forentan children, all listening with wide-eyed attentiveness while the Desanti woman taught them. The bard was almost envious of the Swordanzen's native teaching ability.
"You really start learning when you are babies?" one of the girls asked incredulously.
Storm smiled faintly. "Almost. When we have mastered walking alone, then we begin to learn how to hunt. All of our games are to hone the reflexes because it is very important to be quick and agile. Otherwise, you will no longer be the hunter. You will be the prey."
Erik looked curious. "What do you hunt? We were always taught there was nothing but rocks there."
"Wild drizzen. Some small animals or birds." Storm grinned a little. "Some predators that can even give Swordanzen bad dreams for having crossed them." She leaned forward. "But there is not as much there as there is here. Another thing we learn is how to know when it is time to move on, else the land will die for over hunting." She straightened, holding her hands out. "The purpose of the Swordanzen is to protect the balance of life, as well as preserve the ancient traditions handed down from our ancestors to our descendents."
"What was it like for you to grow up in Desantiva?" a shy girl asked quietly, blinking large blue eyes at the dark-skinned woman. "I heard you were abandoned as a child."
Erik elbowed the girl, frowning. "That's rude, Claire! You don't ask personal stuff like that!"
Storm held up a hand, shaking her head. "No. You do not learn if you do not ask." She looked at Claire. "I was not abandoned. Desert raiders led by a darkborn killed my tribe when I was six summers old." The children's eyes went very wide, listening in rapt attention.
"Did another tribe find you?" Claire asked with hopefulness, looking shocked when Storm shook her head. "Didn't anyone help you?"
"Desanti are very superstitious," Storm stated, carefully enunciating the trade common word. "Many believe that if most of a tribe is killed, that those who survive carry with them a taint. Children of lost tribes are called Cursed. If not for my Totani, I would have died."
"That is cruel!" Erik stated flatly. "You didn't do anything wrong! Someone should have—"
Storm shook her head. "The darkborn hunted for me. He would have followed me and killed all who stood between us. It was better that I was left because no other tribes were killed. And my Totani taught me how to serve Desantiva, to protect other tribes from suffering the same fate." She smiled sadly. "And now I serve Desantiva by teaching you about us."
Erik crossed his arms. "Those other Desanti were cowards! They should have protected you! Uncle Nolyn says children should always be protected. No matter what!"
"There is only one difference between bravery and cowardice, Erik," Storm said gently. "The brave do not allow fear to control them. The cowards use fear as an excuse not to act. You think the other Desanti were cowards for not acting to protect me." She smiled a little. "I think they were brave for doing what they needed to protect their tribes. The death of a child is a most painful thing for a Desanti." She put her hand over her heart. "I am not mad at them. You should not be either. It is past and cannot be changed."
The children were thoughtful for a while until one boy piped up. "What was the first animal you hunted?"
Taylin walked into the wooden area built into the crook of the great tree and a huge branch that served as the schoolyard, Emil and Emaris with her. She shook the rain off her cloak's hood as they got under the sturdy awning that shielded the outdoor area from the elements. She circled around to Mureln, leaning down to kiss his cheek lightly before looking towards the group. "She really is in her element around children, isn't she?" the healer asked with a small smile. "Wherever we have been, they have flocked to her."
"Older children at least," Mureln agreed. "They allow her to embrace the other half of her Swordanzen duties and teach. If someone tries to bring an infant near her? She freezes like a new father seeing his unexpected first born for the first time." He shook his head sadly. "It should be funny, but it is anything but when I see it."
Taylin made a thoughtful noise as she watched Storm on her hands and knees, stalking forward as she pantomimed the beast about which she spoke. Her pounce sent the children into fits of squeals and laughter as they all piled on her. "I wonder why that is?" she mused.
Emil leaned on the tree wall by Mureln, arms crossed. "Mebbe b'cause of th' Vi'disa." When the bard and healer looked at the mercenary with puzzlement, he merely shrugged. "Swordanzen ain't part of no tribe, so she ain't grown up with any babies around 'er." Gruffly, the man said, "I know I gets nervous around 'em m'self. They be small and soft and I sure as hells don't want t' hurt 'em. But she had t'kill them Vi'disa babies so they'd not suffer."
Mureln half smiled at Emil, turning to look at him with an eyebrow arched in curiosity. "That is very... insightful, my friend. I wondered if there was a wise man in there somewhere begging to get out." He reached over to knock on Emil's skull lightly.
"Bah," the mercenary scoffed, waving a hand aimlessly. "That in-seeing shit be yer thing, not mine. Don't start goin' and expectin' me t' start bein' all wise and stuff." Emaris elbowed Emil, nodding towards the middle of the schoolyard. The skinny mercenary sighed loudly. "Damnit, I hate it when she gets like that. Always means there be trouble."
Storm was half standing, eyes unfocused as if she were listening to something, the children all looking puzzled at the abrupt change in the woman. After several moments, she finally returned her attention to the children, though a touch more subdued as she apologized for the distraction and resumed the lesson.
"Wonder what that was about." Emil traded puzzled shrugs with Emaris.
Mureln frowned a little, absently taking Taylin's hand as she reached for his and squeezed it comfortingly. "I am not sure, but something is definitely different now. But we may need Almek's insight to help us understand what it is."
"If ye only just be sensing now what she been sensing," Emil said drolly, "Storm be better than any hound th' caravans ever had."
"It stands to reason. I am, as you say, a bitch," Storm interjected, having come over to join the group. Emil jumped out of his skin then coughed while the others busted out laughing.
"Sneaky bitch at that," Emil grumped, face red. Storm merely bowed in acknowledgment of what she considered a compliment. But she would not tell them what had distracted her.
Chapter 40
"He is just exhausted from his lessons, Lyra. I was teaching him some knife techniques when he caught his blade wrong. He will be fine once he gets some rest." Skyfire's voice faded as he shut the door to Terrence's room, leaving t
he young man to sleep himself out for as long as the household allowed him.
Once the door latched, Petal crawled in the window Terrence always left ajar for her and flew down to him. She walked around on his chest pacing worriedly, her dragonfly-like wings fluttering in agitation. After several hours, the young mage groaned softly, opening his eyes. The sprite was delighted, but spoke so quickly her voice sounded more like bird twittering than actual words.
"Petal," Terrence admonished mildly as he pushed himself up. "Petal, relax. I'm fine."
The sprite took a deep breath, taking wing to divert her energy to flight instead of speech. "Petal stay hidden from warrior like you told me to do, but was hard, hard, hard! Petal was much worried about you!" She went over to his bound hand, hugging his thumb tightly. "You are all right?"
"My head feels strange. And I'm starving! And..." Tugging his shirt off, he looked at his shoulder where Dzee had rested her hand. He stared for a long moment at a black silhouette tattoo of a wyvern similar to the Totani tattoos that Storm and Skyfire bore. He touched the image, feeling the unnatural heat radiating from it. "I really am a Githalin."
Petal flew up to hover near him, reaching out to touch the image with one finger. "Oooh, it feels much warm!"
Terrence smiled wanly. "I will eventually have to explain this to Master Ash." His smile faded and he looked towards the door worriedly. "And Mistress Storm."
The sprite tilted her head in puzzlement. "Illaini's warrior will not be happy?"
The journeyman shrugged one shoulder, sighing. "To be honest, I am not sure. Radisen does not have any problems with me being a Githalin, but... well. Mistress Storm confuses me sometimes." He unwrapped his injured hand, touching the barely closed gash with his fingertips, half closing his eyes as he murmured a spell to heal it. He examined his work, nodding in satisfaction, then went to take out a new shirt. "Sometimes she is open and understanding. Even curious and eager to learn. Then the next moment, she is hostile and distrusting." Looking at the crossed swords pendant, he sighed. "And then there is the Goddess... How can I expect anyone to accept a Forentan being chosen by a Desanti divine servant?"
