by T. A. Miles
Guang Ci, now a ranked soldier, was to accompany Alere and Tristus into the underground. With the aid of Huang Shang-san, the they would lead a small force of their own. A hunting expedition beneath the city felt more comfortable to Alere. He understood that Shirisae would appreciate it less, though he could not help but to feel she had been forcing her presence onto whomever she was most drawn to in the moment since her arrival. He knew it was an unfair assessment, but he did not feel entirely wrong, nor did he feel shame for the thought.
He was convinced of that, until Xu Liang entered the stable, followed by Shirisae. A tangible sensation of what could only be described as jealousy befell him and he knew then, finally, that his prejudice was not only unfair, but wrong. He was, in that moment, beginning to understand that he envied Shirisae…for the security her people had come to know and for the security she knew personally, as someone the gods—at least one of them—had chosen to protect. Though he had no proof, he felt that it was unearned. More than likely it was that Alere had not witnessed how it was earned, and so he could not believe it. He did not want to believe it, because he felt that it would mean that his own people had been forsaken.
Recalling Vorhaven’s madness, perhaps that was true. And if it was, they had been cursed by envy…the obsessive envy and pride of Vorhaven, which may have been inspired by the pride of Alere’s own people. He could not allow such a chain to continue unbroken.
While the thoughts formed, Alere turned his face toward Breigh. He listened to the birdsong outside, the movement of water not far away, and the exchange of words in Fanese among Xu Liang and his men. Red in the corner of his vision and the sound of quiet elvish words brought his attention to Shirisae, who was greeting Kirlothden before inviting him out of his stall.
He looked at the Phoenix Elf. She donned the black armor she had brought with her to Sheng Fan. It was fashioned in layers meant to provide as much mobility and protection as possible, shielding the vital areas of a body with a combination of hardened leather and small plates. The rest consisted of light mesh and quilted leather. It was yet heavier than what Alere preferred for himself, but it had served—and would serve—her well on the battlefield.
“You’ll protect him,” he said to her in elvish.
Shirisae did not look at him. “As the Phoenix requires,” was her answer.
Alere felt that it was no answer, and that her failure to look at him was conceit.
“He grows stronger,” Shirisae said next. Her gaze finally moved in his direction, that gesture and her words quashing Alere’s perturbation before it had fully risen.
More than the words, it was the look in her eyes, which may have demonstrated—for the first time in Alere’s presence—some modicum of vulnerability. Over what, precisely, Alere could not be certain. Surely, the mystic’s strength increasing, over waning slowly, was a boon.
“I know that you hold some disdain for the Phoenix,” Shirisae continued. “And I hold no grudge against you for that. I understand that you and yours have suffered. If you feel that I have been cold toward that, then I apologize.”
“I neither want nor deserve apology,” Alere told her at once. “But I am interested in Xu Liang’s health. If you say it’s improving, and that the presence of your god is the inspiration behind it, then I cannot resent it.”
Shirisae accepted that in silence. She turned to guide Kirlothden out, pausing to say, “I know that you and Tristus will look out for each other.”
Alere nodded tautly, waiting for her to walk away before following her visually. Her path led his eyes to Xu Liang, who accepted whatever Shirisae said to him with a polite bow of his head. Alere looked away afterward. It would take some time for him to be comfortable in Shirisae’s presence without the aiding distraction of some adversity to actively remind him that there were more immediately important concerns in the world than his ongoing grief and resent.
It was in the midst of that thought when Xu Liang appeared beside him. To amuse Ceren, Tristus arrived in the stable in the same moment. Alere helplessly looked from one to the other, noting that Tristus took the time to take visual notice of Xu Liang even before engaging himself in conversation with Shirisae. There were times when Alere felt the odd one out of their group, but he supposed that he was, all things considered.
“You were the first to join me on the path to uniting the Swords,” Xu Liang said in a show of uncanny timing. “You were the first among the bearers from the west to have faith in them, and in me. I am grateful.”
“It was curiosity first,” Alere replied.
“Curiosity is the first step along many roads,” Xu Liang answered.
Alere accepted that. “I intend to take Breigh into the underground. She will find her footing with ease and better enable me to scout ahead, which will better ensure the safety of all of us.”
Xu Liang nodded. “That’s a wise decision. If I carry a distraction with me, it will be concern for the safety of all of you. It will be less of a distraction now.”
If Alere didn’t know Xu Liang as well as he did by now, he might have thought that response in some way condescending. He was aware that such a notion could not have been further from truth. The mystic spoke what was on his mind and what was true when he elected to speak, and that was a trait they shared. It was one that had confused both of them in the past regarding each other, but now it maintained a shared understanding between them. It was a relationship that he would miss in the coming weeks—potentially months.
TRISTUS OBSERVED ALERE and Xu Liang talking. The important part of that observation being that Alere was talking to someone, about something more than the potential threats he had observed after riding ahead of everyone…alone. The elf was something of an enigma; seeming to prize solitude while simultaneously craving companionship. Tristus imagined it had to do with his losses and with the role he’d been forced to take up as the head of his family at a particularly young age. Such a responsibility as an adolescent was nothing Tristus believed he could have handled with any grace. Of course, he had no right to make any comparisons. He had no siblings. When his father died, his obligations had been to his mother and when she died, his obligations had been to himself…barring his service to the Order, of course. But from a familial standpoint, had he not been committed to the Church of Andaria, he would have been entirely on his own. He never minded that he’d wound up in that position anyway—alone and without the support of either family or the Church—focusing instead on the fact that he’d found a new family and a better sense of order…for himself, at any rate.
“I believe Alere loves him,” Shirisae said, distracting Tristus from his thoughts.
He looked at her—she was putting on her gloves and not looking back at the subject of her conversation—then back at Alere and Xu Liang. A helpless pang of confusion struck him at her announcement, but it was fleeting. “You mean as a brother.”
Golden eyes lifted to meet his gaze.
Before she could vocalize whatever might have come to mind in that moment, Tristus said, “I think you’re right about that. I…think it’s mutual.”
“I’m glad,” Shirisae replied, returning her focus to her gloves, which somehow only made her hands appear slenderer. “I believe that both of them have struggled to love outside of what they know to be safe.”
Tristus agreed. Even in the boldness of Alere’s pronouncement toward him, Alere was not quite as sure of foot as he tended to be in every other aspect of his being. Tristus had committed that to the Verressi’s youth. He’d come to understand that he’d been unfair in that; Alere’s state had less to do with his youngness and all to do with the vagueness he’d been offered in return. It seemed to Tristus that Shirisae was aware of that and letting him know her awareness in the current moments. It seemed to him that all of them were better aware of the emotional positions and conditions of one another than they were of themselves.
Shirisae confirmed that thought with her next words. “I believe that you and I have
rushed to demonstrate the opposite.”
Tristus felt how particularly her statement was aimed, since she had already come to terms with her quick sentiments, sudden declarations, and persistent stubbornness where the topic was concerned. She had let go. They’re relationship had flourished for that, in spite of the fact that it wasn’t what Shirisae wanted at the time. Tristus knew that it was his turn to do the same…to let go someone who did not—or could not—share in his devotion at that level.
“I’ll find the words to rectify things,” he promised her and felt that in doing so he was promising Xu Liang as well, and himself.
Shirisae showed him a small smile. In that smile he thought he detected further words, but she said nothing more.
He laid his hand gently against her head and kissed the side of her face. “Be safe, my lady.”
Shirisae nodded and he stepped around her with a parting smile. He did not want to interrupt Alere and Xu Liang, and so carried himself to Sylvashen’s stall, so that he might check in on the beast. The creature came upon being greeted. “Time to get you saddled up for a jaunt across the city. I’m sure you’re not opposed.”
Sylvashen showed his teeth, perhaps because it was beyond time to chew on something familiar, such as clothing or hair. Tristus was less worried about his old clothes, but he would have to break the animal of his habits once he’d acquired a more permanent regional wardrobe. He’d already seen to the ruination of his first over robe. Well, he’d actually taken more damage than it had after all was said and done. It had been mended and they were all having further pieces tailored. With help from Xu Liang, they were managing to communicate their preferences, particularly where armor was concerned. Tristus had no qualms with the Fanese style of trousers and shirts, or even boots, but he did hope to incorporate his breastplate into the Fanese layers where protection was concerned. The smith they’d been to see appeared willing to work with the western piece. The greatest concern had been with the elves, one a female and one preferring not to wear armor at all. That would not have been in any way extraordinary, had Alere been a tactician, such as Xu Liang and accompanied by a small force of bodyguards. But the elf was to be a general—they all were in order to actively demonstrate their roles as Heaven sent guides. Xu Liang had left the matter of Alere for later and had instead given more effort to ensuring that Shirisae would be properly outfitted. Her Phoenix armor would be the foundation. Xu Liang’s primary concern was that she did not appear more foreign on the field than her gender, her hair, and her elven features already insisted upon.
Though they were all to have unique armor that would identify them amid the troops, Tristus suspected his would be the least complicated. Even though Guang Ci would be outfitted entirely in the style of his culture, he had been assigned to a black dragon rather than the kingdom’s typical blue. That required unique pieces that would have to be produced. And how fantastic they all would look. Tristus hoped to do justice to the role. He’d held rank in Andaria, but he would have been considered too young for a general’s position—all of his superiors of rank had surpassed the start of a third decade, at least. Of course, age and rank held a different relationship in Sheng Fan. It appeared that men began their careers while still boys. Once begun, they could promote as easily as any other man, regardless of age. It was a system that honored achievement and talent as readily as experience and acquired skill.
Jiao Ren, Tristus had learned, had been a foot soldier at fifteen. The only relatable experience among them seemed to be Alere’s. But Alere had survived the dragon.
With a sigh, Tristus led Sylvashen out, aware that his thoughts were waxing gloomy. It reminded him too easily of the state he had fallen into while wandering the Alabaster Range alone. Clearly, a part of him feared that. It had only required this separation—which he knew was not to be permanent—to aim him for despair again. He would strive harder to maintain a better alignment.
It was then that Xu Liang approached him. Looking at the mystic’s face launched him to memory of his initial impression of an even fairer—or perhaps more neutral mien. The Fanese features were so different and the example before him so lovely that he could have mistaken Xu Liang for female, particularly given his own state of disorientation. He supposed that he had yet been too near his experience with the angel. It had heightened his romantic inclinations to such a degree that he could have fallen to his state of devotional love as quickly, even if Xu Liang had been a woman. Reminding himself of that had helped him to realize that the immediacy of his love was comparable to a spiritual experience. That, paired with what he would eventually learn of Xu Liang’s wisdom and leadership idealized a ruler in Tristus’ mind…a perfect ruler, if there could be one apart from God. That only meant that his initial impression of Xu Liang could have been king or queen, and he would have pledged his service the same. That he had transposed a more personal romantic attraction had been, he suspected, purely the desperation that had come of being alone. Knowing that, however, had not changed what he had allowed to grow. Xu Liang was worthy of love, and he loved him, in many ways. He was not the first, and he would not be the last. He may have been among the bravest, and most foolish.
Fear not of death, knight, and be claimed by it a brave soul.
The ancient verse was told to instill courage. It applied well to battle, however it did not have the same affect in relation to people or to love.
“Please defer to Lord Huang Shang-san in my absence,” Xu Liang said. “In regards to the politics of Shang Fan, you must obey his instruction. You are not as yet familiar with my secretary, though he will confer with Huang Shang-san in relation to any specific instruction from the Empress or sent from me by letter. Er Chiong is not at liberty to act on any matter concerning your stay as champions of the Empress and I do not suspect that he will try, but if he advises, you should heed his advice. He has been loyal and a friend in all the time I have known him.”
“I understand,” Tristus replied. “I’ll be glad to learn more of the language so that I might communicate better among your people.”
Xu Liang smiled in his way that Tristus believed expressed satisfaction. Tristus also imagined there was a great deal of stress hidden behind that expression.
“I will return soon. I wish you all good fortune.”
“Godspeed,” Tristus said in return, and in spite of all of his rationalizing over his feelings, he couldn’t help that he had to fight the urge to reach his hand out to Xu Liang. He couldn’t help recalling the time he’d spent atop Blue Crane, cradling the mystic’s near lifeless body to his own while they rode to Vilciel. Though it seemed the correct thing to do to release his unintentional hold over whatever part of Xu Liang was entangled in his past confession…he could not control the fact that he yearned to pursue the other man’s heart.
TAYA MADE HER way to the stables alongside her uncle. It had still not fully settled on her that some of them would be going one way, while the rest of them stayed behind. Yes, they’d cut the tether on Fu Ran before even entering Sheng Fan, but…well, he’d been a stowaway anyway and they all knew he was sooner or later going to have to get back to his ship and to his captain. They all knew Yvain was probably ebbing closer and closer to being his wife, which meant that they would probably be sharing all interest and responsibility in the trading business. He simply could not stay a bodyguard.
As for the rest of them…
Taya didn’t really know how much any of them who weren’t Fanese belonged in Sheng Fan, but the Swords had certainly given several of them a purpose that wouldn’t have them anywhere else for the time being. Her uncle would be tagging along for adventure’s sake for as long as his old bones could take it, and then she supposed they would both be headed back toward Stormbright. Taya couldn’t say she was looking forward to that trip, simply for how long it would be, and how lonely it might be without the others, if they were to stay longer.
The only recourse Taya had was to not dwell on the matter. It was strife for the
future and right now, she was going to have relatively free reign over Xu Liang’s garden. He’d said that he would be entrusting it to her while he was away. She felt as if she were still beaming from one ear to the other, even faced with the impending departure of the mystic and Shirisae, and the beloved guards.
The lot of them were coming out of the stables when Taya and her uncle arrived. While Tarfan made a direct path to Xu Liang, Taya shuffled toward Shirisae. The tall creature had her flames raveled down her back and she was back in her armor. She looked sleek and formidable, though Taya was well aware of her softer side by now. The odd thing was how soft it was becoming in regard to their mystic, who Taya hoped was not acquiring another incident of romanticized spiritual dedication.
The Phoenix was a tricky topic, as were most topics relating to gods. That Xu Liang might have been playing host to a great fire bird was not so easy for Taya to get her mind around. He did appear to be having stronger moments physically, but he’d appeared to have stronger moments while existing almost purely on his own spiritual energy back in Yvaria…and then he’d almost died. According to Shirisae, he had died. His spirit had the strength to linger intact and, for that reason, the resurrection ritual was a success. The Phoenix had literally carried his soul back to where it belonged, and had been nesting right alongside it ever since. Taya couldn’t help that she felt a little suspicious about that.
But…Shirisae believed everything was not only fine, but better. So be it.
“I want to know everything about everything that went on when you come back,” Taya informed the fire elf.
“I will tell you everything that is important for you to know,” Shirisae answered.
Taya stuck her tongue out at the smiling elf. Though Shirisae may have been easier to get on with than Alere, she was still an elf.
“Mind your strength,” Tarfan was saying to Xu Liang. “Mind your back, and mind you, you’d better win that battle, mage!”
