by Jen Valena
“He wants to be on my side. He wants to do the right thing. I hope he sorts himself out and helps somehow.”
“I do not trust him.” Tyrsten gritted his teeth. “He holds grudges.”
“He isn’t the only one,” Ithia muttered.
Tyrsten rubbed his palms on his knees and shifted his mood. “Enough of him. The gang is in the kitchen, want to hang out with them?”
“Wow, Tyrsten, you’re picking up my lingo.”
“And you said you cannot teach an old wolf new tricks!”
A hushed wave preceded Ithia and Tyrsten entering the room. Huldo and the others appeared eager to hear news from Urica.
“Oh no, no, don’t let us interrupt.” Ithia waved them on, knowing they were waiting for her report.
“Are you kidding?” Huldo bounced in his chair. “What did you find out?”
Tyrsten said with irritation, “She is already acquainted with the Seer!”
“Of course.” Huldo laughed.
Ithia rolled her eyes as she wandered into the adjoining living area. “And I just have a bunch of new questions.”
“No luck as to what to do next?”
Ithia tossed herself apathetically onto the couch. “She wants me to forgive people when I find out some secrets about my life. I suspect Urica will be on that list.”
“Did you try reading her mind?” Huldo gave a crooked grin.
Ithia shook her finger at him. “Now, you know how Magian women react to that.”
Iris laughed.
Ithia smiled at her. “Perhaps one day you will discover what it is like to be a Magian woman.”
“I have given it some thought, now that I know it is possible for me to become one. I have always revered Cousin Tyrsten and his calling. It would be an honor to be counted among you.” Iris blushed.
“I hope to help make this world a safe place for you to become what you are meant to be.”
“How are you going to help our people?” Iris asked eagerly.
“I don’t have a clear plan. In the end, I will have to choose the right answer, the right actions, at the right time. It’s overwhelming to try to guess.”
Iris considered her words. “Let the Fates guide you then. Unhappiness is in the souls of our people. I hope when you challenge Garrick the reign of fear will end.”
Ithia had a strong desire not to let these people down.
17 ✹ Letting Go
We cannot capture the essence of sand with a tight fist,
nor can we appreciate stargazing through a tunnel.
— Mother Urica
Since Kladmunt was Tyrsten’s safe haven, they stayed there in the days that followed. Ithia and Tyrsten settled into a routine of meditation and focused their intentions back on their callings, whatever they might be—and off each other.
Ithia lay awake at night endeavoring to remember what had happened to her during the time she had gone into the mini-coma. Some dream or vision must have occurred within that long sleep. In the back of her mind, she wondered if she was in contact with another Magian during that time. What or who was the shadow that kept showing up? A delicate scent of flowers or incense seemed to tickle her senses. She had a vague impression of being trapped. The identity of the shadow slipped between her fingers like the albumin of a broken egg, leaving a thin film on her waking memory.
Ithia wanted to procrastinate and stay in Kladmunt longer, but some force reminded her that there were other places to be.
Ithia didn’t want to bother Urica again. The woman just talked in circles. A straight answer would be refreshing. Now Ithia was determined to find her own answers. Despite her aversion to seeking the Seer’s advice, Tyrsten persuaded Ithia to pay Urica another visit.
When Ithia arrived at the Seer’s one-room abode, the tea was already in place for them.
“What troubles bring you to visit a riddle-laden old lady?”
“Mother Urica, it isn’t like that.”
“Oh, yes, certainly, it is.” Urica let out a giggle. “It is all right, dear. I was of the same opinion when I was your age.”
“You were?” Ithia asked, eyebrows raised.
“I had to find my own answers, too. In the end, I learned a lot about myself.”
“I do need some answers. What happened to the Magians that have disappeared?”
“Their energy patterns are hidden. I am concerned that I cannot even sense them on the other side.” Urica raised her face to the sky.
“Other side of what?”
“Death.”
Ithia shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. “You can do that?”
“Yes. You will eventually master this too.”
“I’m not sure if I want to.” Ithia made a face.
“It is a skill you will find useful in the future.”
“What happened during the time I was unconscious for a whole day? I feel there is something I need to remember.”
“Your dream-time may be one of your greatest gifts. However, I am not privy to your dreams. You will remember when you are meant to.”
“Are you saying that I just need to remember how to remember what I know?”
“Now who is the one speaking in riddles!” Urica laughed.
✹ ✹ ✹
That evening, Iris and Rhema talked about people they knew in the town of Leelan. When Ithia heard the town’s name, all her focus zoned into a tone that floated within that word. She had found her next destination. Whatever the source—be it from during her coma, an intuition or a dream—she knew something awaited her there.
“Leelan! I need to go to Leelan.”
Feron glanced over to Huldo and whispered with a smile, “She better not keep saying it over and over again, or I am going to think she has gone mad like Tyrsten did.”
“Maybe brilliant people are also just a little off.” Huldo smirked. “But after waiting for our crazy leaders to find a sign, I am ready for some action.”
✹ ✹ ✹
That night Ithia meditated on her coma-like sleep, since it could reveal a key to what awaited her in Leelan.
She lit a candle and found a large mirror to gaze into. Since all her other meditations had failed, she would delve into her soul head-on. Although, she was nervous about attempting such an unpredictable method again.
The mirror reflected her bedroom window, and the moonlight bounced around within the confines of the walls. Her eyes blurred as she relaxed into the meditative state. Jaguar, Frog and Eagle all made their appearances as masks over her reflection.
Then there was nothing, only her face.
She must be doing something wrong. Her fear of incompetence arose.
Then something caught her eye.
A shadow figure with glowing eyes stood outside her window. The creature wasn’t pleased. It charged toward the fragile glass window.
Ithia turned to protect herself.
Stop! she wanted to yell, but she couldn’t open her mouth to scream.
A white mist spilled into the corners of her vision. It encircled her completely until all she saw was her face in the mirror. Then even her face was gone. The all-encompassing white fog surrounded her. Yet she was able to see—as if she were one large eye observing every direction at once.
Instinct told her anything was possible here. She must be cautious. She sensed thoughts could be dangerous. Careless ideas might instantly come true.
“Guardian Spirits, help me, according to your wisdom,” Ithia said.
At first nothing happened. Then, in the distance, a figure approached—herself.
“You have come to ask yourself some questions.”
“Me again?”
“You, me, we are not separate. And we are not good at following rules.”
“Is this another crazy dream? Or is this real?”
“What is the difference?”
“I’m starting to lose track of my other selves.” Ithia started from the beginning. “If I am here to ask questions, then let’s start wi
th how Garrick found me on Earth?”
“You lost your protector.”
“Who was my protector?”
“Your Grandfather.”
“My Godfather is my Grandfather? He lied to me.”
“He did not tell you lies.”
“He didn’t tell me the truth.”
“Not the whole truth.”
“Are my parents even dead? Who are they?”
“Those answers are hidden within the Astroan Palace.”
“I’m just dreaming this up.”
“That would not make it untrue.”
“Why didn’t Gramps teach me about where I am from? Did he want to keep me away from Ma’thea forever?”
“He felt it was better for you. He intended to be there if you ever found out.”
“How do you know all this, when I don’t?”
“I am the part of you that exists on another plane beyond time and boundaries. The part of your soul that sees a bigger picture. I am your intuition. These answers you already knew in your heart through the great web of knowledge.”
“What am I to do now?”
“Go to Leelan.”
“That isn’t much help. I already knew that.”
“The ring you wear has a twin—a counterpart. The ring will alert you when the other is near. The person that wears it is of great importance. When you meet…”
The white fog faded.
Her eyes began to focus back onto her room. She could not keep sight of her counterpart’s face. “Why are you leaving?” Ithia shouted.
“I am not the one leaving,” her higher self’s voice lingered within the clouded vision.
“Don’t go!” Ithia yelled after her.
“I am not leaving you,” Tyrsten said, with panic written on his face.
Ithia lay on the floor with Tyrsten hovering over her. He had brought her out of the communication with her higher self.
“Just when I was about to get answers!” she snapped. “What are you doing?”
“Me? What are you doing?”
“Meditating.”
“You collapsed and hit your head again.” Tyrsten helped her to sit up.
“I was talking to my self.”
“That does not make me feel any better.”
“I told me—” She shook her head. “Maybe it wasn’t real.”
“What is upsetting you?”
“My Godfather was actually my Grandfather. And I may not be an orphan. Or at least, in Astroan I could find answers about my parents.”
“You did hit your head. It might have been a bad dream.”
She rubbed the bump on the back of her head. She made a mental note to make a habit of placing pillows all around her for meditations. “But it was intense. I was surrounded by white fog.”
“The Knowing Mist?”
“How should I know?” She grinned at the play of words, then turned serious again. “There is someone I must meet in Leelan, someone connected to this ring.”
✹ ✹ ✹
The next morning, Tyrsten burst through the back door of the inn, catching everyone off guard.
“Gone!” Tyrsten was out of breath.
Ithia knew before Tyrsten said more. “Urica.”
Tyrsten sat down at the table and cradled his face in his palms. “I am not sure if she was taken, since she has so few possessions to disturb. However, I sense the worst.”
Ithia did not say a word. She did not move. She was sure she would wake herself up from this nightmare. How could Urica, who had shielded thirty women for a month, not be able to protect herself now? A voice floated to her from far away.
“Ithia?” Tyrsten repeated himself, since she hadn’t heard him, “Do you perceive anything? You have a bond with her.”
“I do?”
“Her energy was connected with yours.”
Ithia closed her eyes and concentrated. “Nothing at all. Wait, no, it feels like darkness itself.”
Feron asked Tyrsten, “Did you sense anyone around Urica’s house?”
“No one. And I took the precaution of approaching through the woods.”
Ithia stood to ready her things for departure. “Tyrsten, we must leave now to minimize the risk to your family.” She turned to Rhema, Revin and Iris. “I thank you for all that you have done for me. For us. I pray that we didn’t bring you trouble.”
18 ✹ Exposed Heart
In the beginning, so lonely was the entirety of everything
to know itself so completely, in darkness that was not darkness,
because there was no light to make it night.
The essence of All instantly knew it needed not to know.
— Mother Urica
Three days on horseback gnawed at Ithia’s patience. Questions and doubts circled her like scavengers, pecking away at her equilibrium.
Huldo and Feron planned to go into Leelan and investigate while Tyrsten waited with Ithia in the wilderness outside of town. Ithia understood the need for caution, but she wanted to go with Huldo. She also had a nagging feeling there were as many threats in the woods as there were in the village.
Ithia was tired of being so careful. She hoped that one day she would no longer have to hide her starry Magian eyes. She imagined herself walking right into Garrick’s Palace, telling him to leave her alone so she could just figure out what to do with the rest of her life. Going back to Earth appealed to her since she didn’t know if she could ever find peace on Ma’thea. Could her confusing relationship with Tyrsten and a few friendships be enough to stay in a place she was hunted? Maybe Tyrsten could come to Earth too. Although, she didn’t think that he would leave his responsibilities behind.
The city’s profile taunted her in the distance as Ithia and Tyrsten set up camp. With any luck, Feron and Huldo would be back with news before nightfall. Ithia collected firewood. Tyrsten tailed her every step. Ithia mused that he was never going to let her out of his sight again.
“I don’t want to hide anymore.”
“I understand.” Tyrsten stopped piling up the wood and let his hands fall at his sides. “I spent almost my entire life hiding.”
“How do you deal with it?”
“When I became a Magian at eleven, I spent most of my time at the Vihar. Even before Garrick’s destruction of our ways, Magian initiates were separated from the population while we were trained. However, I was allowed to visit family, and a few trusted allies.”
“You’ve led a fairly sheltered life.”
“Yes. Although not an ignorant life.”
“I wasn’t suggesting that, but isn’t it hard to guide others when your exposure to the world is so limited?”
“That is how it is done, isolated to focus on clearing the mind and soul while minimizing the chance to accumulate more karmic baggage. If the world had not changed, then as I developed in my second phase of training I would have worked with the public under my teacher’s guidance.”
“How can we carry on the tradition if you are not fully trained?”
Tyrsten crouched down to fidget with the stack of firewood while Ithia sat on her blanket.
“There are ways.” He sounded ominous, but didn’t explain.
After a long silence, Ithia asked, “Will the people even want us to? Most have gone on without Magians. Maybe they like it better that way. And—well, Nolan said Magians didn’t always have the best intentions.”
“Nolan is thickheaded. However, one thing he said might be true, the people may not want us. It is a reality that we might face. However, even if the Magian ways are never embraced here again, we cannot allow Garrick to control freedom of choice in what to believe. And we must fight for our right to live.”
“It is one thing to believe Garrick is an evil to be destroyed, but nothing is ever that simple. He must have his reasons for doing what he does even if we don’t understand them.”
“He kills!” Tyrsten jumped to his feet. “And what he does to Magians? Maybe worse.”
“So wha
t can I do—kill him? I have a hard time squishing a bug.”
“We have to stop him.” He paused. “And, you are correct, killing is not the Magian way. But you must usurp him. Somehow.”
“Quanen said someone is to challenge an unworthy authority.” Ithia slumped her shoulders. “But Urica suggested I might not be the one who has to challenge him. Although, if it is me, how can a few of us succeed against an entire army?”
Tyrsten frowned. “I have faith the answer will find us.” Tyrsten knelt and grasped her hands. “It could be that word of your existence would be enough to turn the tide against him.”
✹ ✹ ✹
Feron and Huldo came back that evening reporting the lively trader’s market village of Leelan appeared almost devoid of soldiers.
“We must be careful. We have no allies here,” Huldo said. “However, it does not appear that these folk favor Garrick.”
Feron asked, “Ithia, what are we to gain in this place?”
Ithia poked a stick into the fire and regarded the flying sparks that swirled in chaos. “I’m not sure, but I’m going into town tomorrow morning.”
“You cannot take that risk.” Tyrsten’s fingers gripped his knees. “Even if there are only a few soldiers, it is not safe for you or me to be amongst the townspeople.”
“No offense, but I don’t care about your objections. I am going.”
✹ ✹ ✹
At breakfast, the tension between Tyrsten and Ithia was so potent, Feron said to Huldo that he could use it as a spice in his cooking—but he suspected the taste would be bitter.
As they entered the busy streets of Leelan, Ithia donned a cloak and employed the subtle art of inconsequentiality to pass unnoticed. Fortunately, the villagers were accustomed to strangers and paid the four no attention. The bustling lanes and crammed arcades were packed with bargaining traders and barking vendors, much like what Ithia had witnessed in Charlan but on a grander scale, with a dazzling assortment of wares from food to vibrant fabrics.
