The Raging One

by Lexy Wolfe

  Terrence looked over his shoulder sharply as if he heard Ash call him, going to the mage deep in the casting of his magic. "Master?" Terrence asked in uncertain worry as he knelt by the Illaini Magus. He gasped when Ash suddenly grabbed his apprentice's throat, helplessly trying to fight back at the unexpected attack as he felt his life force being pulled out of him. "Master!"

  Ash jerked his hand away. Terrence gasped as the mage ripped the gem from his throat. At the same time, the crystal tomb trembled, cracks appearing along its smooth facets. Ash grabbed Terrence and pulled him down, covering him protectively as the crystal abruptly exploded in a shower of crystal shards and brilliant light.

  Everything stopped, time itself seeming to hold its breath as the dust cleared. Gingerly, a delicate half-woman, half-dragonlike creature the color of rainbows picked herself up. She looked down at herself in wonder, then looked up, her expression turning malevolent. Raising her hands, she commanded, "Be gone!" A wave of white light exploded from her hands and the shadow creatures evaporated, unable to withstand the purity of her power. "Never dare taint my lord's land again," she growled warningly.

  The dragon stared, lowering his head to touch her with his nose. As she relaxed her stance and reached out to touch him, he closed his eyes. "Dzee. My light."

  "My lord," she whispered. She bowed her head. "I am finally home."

  "Master Ash?" Terrence sat up weakly, shaking his head to clear the ringing in his ears. He put his hand on Ash's shoulder. "Master?" He shook the unmoving man's shoulder, cold fear settling in the pit of his stomach. "Master!"

  Chapter 43

  GROANING, Ash put a hand to his head as he awoke. He felt a hand restraining him from rising. Briefly he opened his eyes, hissing as he flung his arm over them. "Gods, so bright..."

  "Forgive me," a soft voice said. After a pause, the sound of a spell spoken in an ancient dialect was barely audible. "There. It should be better now."

  Carefully uncovering his eyes, the mage looked around at the chamber of blood red rock, all but one torch smoking from being extinguished abruptly. "Where am I? What happened?"

  A surreal woman with draconic eyes and smooth rainbow-colored reptilian skin smiled reassuringly at him. "You are safe, Ash Andar." He frowned at her with a lack of recognition, blinking in puzzlement. "I am Dzee. You saved my life."

  Ash was silent as he tried to clear the fog in his mind. "Dzee. You are Totani."

  She smiled. "I am once more. Thanks to you." She closed her eyes and bowed slightly at her waist, touching her palms together in supplication. "I am in your debt for making me whole."

  He relaxed some, shaking his head slightly. Even the slightest movement sent pain stabbing through his skull and he groaned again. Cool fingers brushed his forehead and the pain eased some. "There is... no debt." He took a deep breath, unable to find more words for the tangle of emotions that added to his pain and exhaustion induced confusion.

  Dzee smiled faintly. "As you wish. Regardless, I am very grateful to you. The wound on my lord's heart when I was stolen from Him can finally begin to heal. And through Him, Desantiva can begin to heal from the wounds that have never stopped bleeding."

  Ash's eyes snapped open at a familiar, painful lurch in his chest, and he sat up. "Storm!" Fighting through the pain that made his head swim and pushing against Dzee who tried to force him back down, the mage demanded, "Where is she?"

  Dzee's reassurance rang hollow. "Storm rests right now." She put a hand on his cheek. "Relax, Ash Andar. You need to rest to completely recover."

  Ash looked at Dzee narrowly. "No. Something is wrong. Where is she?" The dragon woman did not answer, hesitating. Ash grabbed her wrist, heedless that she was a divine servant of the Raging One. His azure eyes flashed with the intensity of his emotions. "Answer me! Where is Storm?! What is wrong with her?"

  Dzee lowered her eyes with a sigh. "She remains with our lord. The healer..." She shook her head. "Taylin is very skilled, but she cannot mend a wounded spirit." Ash stared at the rainbow-colored female. "Even before the war, those who became Desanti held very tightly to tradition and ritual. It is what they lived and died by.

  "Everything Storm knew. Everything she believed. It has changed too fast. Even if her actions were for the benefit of Desantiva, for Him, they are still acts of betrayal she cannot forgive herself for." Dzee closed her eyes in grief. "She has retreated into herself. She will not even allow our Lord to touch her heart."

  "She is dying?" the mage asked incredulously. "After we have come so far? And with so much more that needs to be done?"

  "It is not that she is dying." Dzee chose her words carefully. "At least, she is not dying from any physical injury. Her body is whole. It is that... she does not want to live."

  Ash looked down, pressing his lips together. Dzee put her hand under his chin, gently tilting his head up, looking into his eyes for a long moment. After a time, she got to her feet, offering her hand to him. "Come. I will take you to her."

  The moment he put his hand in hers, a wash of soothing warmth flowed into him, restoring some of the strength he had spent saving her. The mage blinked as he followed the dragon woman, squinting when he emerged into the caldera again. He shook off Dzee's hand, determined to walk without assistance.

  The dragon was subdued, curled around the unconscious Storm. His head lifted slightly to regard the mage, and then settled on the ground again, heaving a sigh. Ash could barely look at the god's open grief.

  "She is dying," the dragon said simply. "For all My power, I cannot save My daughter's life because she does not wish to be saved."

  Ash knelt by Storm, lowering his eyes respectfully. "In the short time I have known her, I have found her to be... incredibly willful and stubborn."

  The mage had a sense of the dragon smiling. "Indeed." The dragon sighed heavily again. "So many of my children have passed from this world. Their lives so short and bright, like the stars in the heavens." Ash looked up to see the dragon close his eyes. "I had hoped it would not be so soon for her. Not like this."

  "Is this my fault?" Ash asked bleakly, reaching out to touch her cheek tenderly with the back of his fingers. "When I pulled her back from the Final Dance? Used her honor to convince her to live on?"

  The dragon opened his eyes, raising his head to narrow his gaze on the mage. Ash closed his eyes, hearing the spiny ridges bristle along the dragon's spine and the low rumble of a growl. "It was you who disrupted her pattern?" The mage only nodded once, bracing for whatever death loomed over him. "I thought she had understood...!"

  Instinctively, Ash cringed, shielding Storm with his body as the dragon shrieked, the sound poignantly helpless and grief stricken. The careless flailing did not touch either mage or Swordanzen, bringing them no harm. Totani came in their many forms, the human companions of the Swordanzen and mage joining them. None, however, dared to come within the Raging One's reach, save for Dzee.

  "My lord, what is wrong?" Dzee flicked a look at Ash and Storm, looking briefly perplexed. "She has not yet died. There is yet a chance—"

  "Patterns must be learned, ingrained, before they can be broken and new ones made." The Raging One bellowed in inarticulate frustration. "But I never taught her how to make new patterns. I ignored how very mortal she is!" He jerked back as if to launch himself into the sky, and crashed down again as his shackles reached their unforgiving limit, narrowly missing Storm and Ash. "My daughter is broken because of me!"

  The mage had no words, bearing witness to the god's grief for this far too young woman of the desert. Ash looked down at her, unable to deny the echo of those feelings within his own heart, the tightness in his chest knowing she was so close to death yet again. He gathered her into his arms, holding her close. "Storm," he said with desperation in his voice as he sought her mind and found only an unnatural, echoing emptiness. "Storm, please stop concealing your suffering from me."

  Pressing his forehead against hers, he stopped short of willing her to obey, wishing he could reestablish
the tie he had created when he last held her spirit to the world of the living, to find her before it was too late. Unbidden, a tear formed in his eye, escaping to roll down his cheek. "Please, Storm. Don't leave me alone."

  The tear traced a trail through the dust on Ash's face, and then fell soundlessly. The world vanished when the tear splashed onto her cheek, brilliant white light bathing his mind, the abrupt silence deafening. "What do you know of being alone, treewalker?" Storm's voice whispered in his ear. "Yours is a world filled with people."

  Ash straightened his shoulders, regarding the emptiness around him. "Just because there are people around you does not make it that you are not alone, Swordanzen." He closed his eyes to the memory of himself as a boy, curled in a corner as he cried while cruel laughter drifted to his ears. "It can make it worse."

  "It is different. We are different! You chose to remain alone." Hurt and accusation swirled around him. "I had no choice! I was Cursed. My family, my tribe died because of me."

  "It was not your fault." Ash held onto his calmness in the face of her anger. "You were blessed, and the shadows sought to extinguish your light. The Totani would never have saved a cursed child. The Raging One would never have claimed you as His daughter. You know this!"

  Storm's anger did not abate in the face of the truth of his cooler logic. "It is the duty of Swordanzen to preserve the traditions, and I have broken them! Swordanzen cannot have ties to others, and I gave my oath to the Guardian. There cannot be a choice between serving the Heart of Desantiva and any others."

  "Is it wrong to change? When even the Heart of Desantiva wishes it?"

  Ash closed his eyes, raising an arm protectively to shield himself against the winds of Storm's frustration. As merciless and cutting as the rage winds, the winds of emotion whipped around him. "It goes against tradition. It is the responsibility of a master to keep the patterns whole and intact."

  "No," Ash stated firmly. "It is the responsibility of the student to master the patterns. It is the prerogative of the master to break them and create new ones." Ash could tell he touched a nerve with the oppressive silence that hung in the air. "You are the best, are you not?"

  "You know that I am," Storm snapped back at him.

  "Then it is time for you to make new patterns, Storm il'Thandar." The haze began to fade, revealing the battered spirit of the Desanti woman. "There is a new war. Bigger than that between mage and warrior. A Githalin Swordanzen is needed." He held his hand towards her, inviting her out of the shadows. "You are needed."

  After many long moments, she finally took a step closer. Then she took another. Though her body was whole, her soul was battered, bruised, and bleeding. Storm fixed the man with a tired, wary gaze. "I betrayed my father."

  Seeing her made his heart ache, knowing his part in making her this way. "You know that is not true. You knew what needed to be done, even though it went against everything you were taught. You knew the patterns you had learned were insufficient to what was needed." She stopped her approach, narrowing her eyes on him. "Storm, you did what needed to be done for Him."

  "I brought Him shame!" Storm countered, challenging him to deny the statement.

  Ash tilted his head, regarding her in silence as he considered his reply. "You bear no shame. Your father is very proud of you, Storm il'Thandar. He faults Himself for your pain."

  Storm looked stricken, drawing away from him. "What? No! You lie! I-I have broken traditions! Allowed healers to touch me. Brought outlanders—"

  Not about to let her go, Ash matched her steps away as he stepped towards her. "You know I do not lie."

  Storm fidgeted, pacing. "But I-I do not... I cannot..." She turned away to hide her shame. "I am afraid. I do not deserve to live."

  "You cannot die, Storm il'Thandar."

  "Why not?" She turned to face him challengingly. "You are powerful. You need no one. You have proven those strong enough can stand alone."

  "No, Storm." Though habit begged him to agree with her words, he could not deny the truth he had denied for so long. He looked away in shame. "I... cannot."

  "What?" She stared at him, his admission throwing her off her stride.

  "I cannot do this alone." The mage took advantage of the young woman's shock, forging ahead, taking step by step closer to her. "We are not that different, you and I." Ash met her eyes without looking away. "You are the only one... who understands." A trace of uncertainty colored her eyes. After several long moments, she finally looked away. He held his hand to her again, and she finally closed the remaining distance between them and accepted it.

  The world without came rushing back in abruptly, the mage sitting up a little, looking down at the Desanti woman stirring in his arms. She looked around in bewilderment. "Father?"

  There would have been no difference if the simple word had been a shout instead of a whisper. The dragon looked down sharply, his violent thrashing stilled instantly. "Daughter?"

  Storm barely noticed Ash helping her to her feet as she stumbled the few feet to the dragon's side, throwing her arms against the wall that was his chest. "Father, forgive me."

  "Storm!" He curled around the woman protectively. "My beloved Daughter. I will forgive you only if you can forgive Me."

  Ash looked away from the Raging One and his human daughter to see rainbow feet next to him. He met Dzee's eyes and let her help him to his feet, leaning on her support. "What you have done for Desantiva does not erase everything that Desantiva has suffered at the hands of your ancestors, Ash Andar." The mage grimaced, looking down. Dzee gently turned his face towards hers again, smiling gently. "True healing always takes time. It is a beginning."

  Chapter 44

  IN the following days, the travelers were given shelter by the Raging One and his divine servants. Despite the inhospitable nature of the Rumblelands, the generosity of the entrapped god and his Totani knew few bounds. Save for Amelana who had been returned to the cavern to wait with the drizzen, the Totani fussed over the Dusvet Guardian and his students with an almost childlike fascination that bordered on maddening for the humans. Terrence was given particularly focused attention for having been Dzee's willing host, albeit after she claimed him.

  But for the young Forentan mage apprentice who bridged the rift between warriors and mages, everything was a troubling tangle. One day, he was nowhere to be found. Surprisingly, none of the Totani seemed to be able to sense him, either.

  "I do not understand how a mere human can obscure himself from us," the mountain cat Totani called Kailee complained, her tail lashing impatiently. "No one has been able to hide from us or our lord since—" Her words were cut off when one of the other Totani in human shape elbowed her. Ears flattened back, she snarled quietly, but went quiet.

  Seated with the others around the low, flat rock serving as a table for the humans to eat at, Storm shrugged one shoulder. "He has a quick mind. I have always been able to hide from all of you when you were being very annoying with your attention on me."

  Thandar looked down at her with a rather sad pride. "You are the daughter of the Heart of Desantiva," he said as explanation. The bird man stood, stretching out his arms in preparation to taking his full bird form. "I will go search for Terrence."

  Emil looked up sharply. "Let me take a turn lookin' fer 'im." He shrugged as all eyes turned on him. "Iffin' he not wantin' t' be found by you Totani, he may not be thinkin' 'bout one of us lookin' fer 'im. B'sides, I be needin' t' stretch m' legs." The Totani were silent, then finally grudgingly yielded to the mercenary's request.

  Once he was well away from the caldera, the gypsy mercenary closed his eyes as he concentrated. Satisfied, he headed out for one of the more treacherous hills. It did not take too long for Emil to track the young man down. He found Terrence sitting on a protrusion of blood red volcanic rock sheltered from the sky and from the valley, staring out over the desolation of the Rumblelands. He glanced at Emil who scaled the steep incline as if he were part mountain goat, then turned his pensive gaze back t
o the distance.

  "Lad, everybody been worried 'bout you. Even th' Totani, which is pretty impressive. What are ye doin' up here all by yerself?" Sitting next to the young Forentan man, the Sevmanan mercenary pointed out, "Ye need t' give me a chance t win m' coin back, ye know." Nudging Terrence in the ribs with his elbow lightly, he added, "An' how often ye get th' chance t' play toss stones wi' divine servants, eh?"

  "I am sorry, Emil," Terrence apologized sincerely, sounding despondent. "I am not in the mood for gambling today. Perhaps tomorrow."

  Emil sighed, putting a hand on Terrence's shoulder. "Lad, somethin' be eatin' at ye." The gypsy's voice turned droll. "Wi' all th' shit that's happened, I ain't surprised. It be a lot t' take in, even fer me an' Emaris and we been travelin' fer longer than you been alive." He leaned forward to catch the young man's eye. "Might help figurin' things out if ye talk 'bout it."

  Terrence closed his eyes, silent for a time. "When Dzee was in me we... we shared memories. I saw how she remembered Desantiva." He bowed his head, clenching his fists. "It was so... beautiful. So full of life! As much as Forenta. Maybe even more because Desanti truly were part of their land and allowed their land to flourish. Not like my people whose domination inhibits change and adaptation."

  Troubled, Terrence looked down at his hands, digging nails against the rough rock. "Even if the one who nearly destroyed Dzee was a Shadowlord, the others... my ancestors... they were not. They either followed blindly or knowingly, and either, it should not have mattered. What was done to Desantiva goes against everything..." He looked at Emil imploringly. "How could we stand to do all of this? How could we-?"

  Emil shook his head. "Stop. Just stop right there, lad. It don't do no good t' take th' responsibility fer others' mistakes. T'was a different time. Ye do not know what these Desanti were like then." He held up his hands to forestall Terrence's protest. "Not sayin' they deserved nothin' like this. But I could see how yer ancestors coulda been duped inta believein' that th' warrior folk were out t' kill 'em all. Hells, ye seen them Desanti angry, yeah?"