by Ravyn Wilde
Her brother and his life mate would likely be found in their private rooms. Tala was in no mood for the kissy-face way the two of them were probably acting. Kissy-face was one of Nyssa’s strange Earth phrases. Earth phrases were popping up in all Zylan conversation these days. Well, this phrase certainly fit. Pausing at the door, Tala inhaled deeply. She needed to at least look calm and decisive on the outside—even if she was feeling a little uneasy on the inside. This had to be the right path for her. She couldn’t bear to stay around Mica as just a sister-friend any longer. Now was the time for her to leave.
Tala pressed the small entrance panel outside the door, seeking access to her brother’s living quarters. She could have just gone in but wanted to make sure they weren’t naked. Besides, she needed this to be somewhat formal. It had to be the start of pulling away and distancing herself from her family. She would live the rest of her life at the Refuge, only visiting Tanar for short periods of time. She really hated that part of becoming a Priestess. She would miss everyone.
The metal door opened at her request. Nyssa and Tar were sitting together on the low couch. “Tala, you don’t need to wait. Just come in!” Nyssa exclaimed when she saw Tala standing hesitantly at the door.
“Thanks, Nyssa. I just didn’t want to interrupt anything. I came to say good-bye. I have a cid waiting with palace guards to take me to the Selven. We’ll be leaving here in less than a nilt or one of your Earth hours. I wanted to see you first to say good-bye.” Tala said.
Tar raised an eyebrow and started to say, “I thought that Mica…”
“It doesn’t matter what Mica said. He has refused my offer of help with Raj. I am not waiting to have another long discussion with Mica. I’m tired of never doing anything right or saying the correct thing with him. Waiting for Mica isn’t going to change a thing, Tar. You can send me any updates you get on Raj’s condition. I need to go. I…I want to go. Now.” Tala interrupted.
Nyssa stood and held up her hands asking for silence. She was well aware of what Tala was feeling and she also knew what Mica wanted to discuss with her. Tar had told her of Mica’s plan to let Tala go so that he could claim her when he could get to her. She wasn’t sure she agreed but knew it was between the two of them. There was no sense in letting Tar aggravate Tala even more. “I don’t want you to go, Tala. I still have so much to learn from you and I’ll miss you horribly. But we understand you need to do this. Will they let you send communications to your family?”
“I’m not sure, but I don’t see why not. For the first non or two, I will be extremely busy,” she explained. “I’m going to study hard so that I can take my vows as soon as I can.”
Tar started to comment but Nyssa stepped on his toes to shut him up before he could continue to argue with his sister.
“Do what you can. Even a short message to let us know you got there and are okay would be good. After what happened last month, or Setnon in Zylan time, at the Refuge, I am just a little concerned,” Nyssa stated as she crossed the room to hug Tala.
Tala agreed, embraced both of them and quietly left the room. As she started back down the long hall she thought about the two of them; they made a great pair. Last Setnon they had come too close to losing themselves and each other because of the maniacal efforts of the last Selven High Priestess. The experience had worked to bring them closer together. It had made them both realize that they really loved each other. It also made them aware that they needed to define their own roles versus letting the male dominated history of Zylar dictate their path. It worked well for them. Now.
Shaking off the memories of the last trek she had taken to the Selven Refuge, Tala hurried toward the waiting cid. Nyssa had called them flying saucers. Tala grinned. That’s just what they looked like.
* * * * *
Several bi-nons later, Tala landed at the gathering place of the Selven. She was excited to finally be moving forward with her life. She still had some niggling feelings of unease but she had to believe this was what she was meant to do.
Shalan smiled as Tala walked across the room to greet her in welcoming. She compared the young woman who stood before her now with how she had looked the last time she’d seen her. Tala had been tired in body and mind, her hair lifeless and her eyes dull from confinement and from drinking drugged herbal potions. This bi-non, Tala was exquisitely vibrant. Her long straight hair was shiny and healthy; her dark silver eyes were glittering with happiness and her full sensuous mouth was drawn into a wide smile. There was only a small hint of buried sadness showing from those eyes. Shalan wondered if Mica had caused that sadness. The long gown, a silver gray iridescent color that seemed to make Tala’s eyes glow, was gathered lightly just under her breasts, the neckline a slight V with a high collar. The sleeves were long, ending at a point over the top of her hands. It was a design that was worn solely by the unclaimed women of Zylar; it covered her completely, neck to ankle, but didn’t disguise Tala’s full curves.
Shalan sighed. The High Priest didn’t seem to realize what he was asking. Tala was well beyond being ready for claiming or dedication to the Selven. Her aura—flashing red and pink—oozed sexual frustration. Simmering anger tinted the edges with a deep black. Stalling her was not going to be easy. Holding out her hands in affection, Shalan said, “Tala, welcome to the Selven.” And pushed some of her calm, settling thoughts towards the young woman.
“Shalan, it is so good to see you again. Is everything here going smoothly now?” Tala asked. And it was good. Calm. Peaceful. Serene. Tala immediately felt more settled and less irritated than she had in…well…over a Setnon. When the previous High Priestess had been sent to the penal moon for her crimes, the remaining Priestesses had chosen Shalan to be the new leader of their closed community. She was an incredible herbalist and healer, a gifted psychic teacher. “Or should I call you Priestess?” Tala inquired with a touch of deviltry.
Shalan laughed, “Shalan is fine. After the last one refused to use her name so that all would be reminded of her power, I have chosen to downplay the role. I am simply Shalan. Everything is running very well here. Come, sit with me and let’s talk about what you know about us and what you expect in seeking refuge with the Selven. I know you are tired from your journey and will want to rest soon, but let’s take just a moment to talk.”
Tala sat on pillows spread on the cold stone floor. She faced Shalan across a low table laden with what looked like tea and light cakes. Taking a moment to study the High Priestess, she realized Shalan radiated a serene, peaceful presence. Her features were striking and she looked very different from anyone Tala had ever seen on Zylar. Her eyebrows arched regally above violet eyes, eyes that seemed to see well beyond what you might want her to. Her hair was a very light blonde, a color you didn’t usually find on Zylar—and it must be very, very long judging from the size of the coil that was braided and secured around her head. Most Zylans had various shades of dark hair.
Shalan was wearing what was known as traditional Selven dress. The pants—a cross between what the men of Zylar wore and the pants worn by claimed females—rode low on the hips, were full to the ankle, and made from a gauzy material. The top she wore was a vest, but unlike those worn by claimed women, it ended just above her navel. The vest had a single tie that kept the top closed and the woman wearing it somewhat modest.
Raising her own silver eyes to meet the violet gaze assessing her, Tala replied, “I wish to take the vows of a Selven Goddess, to learn about my abilities—some of which I’ve only used in small ways up to this point. I am looking for a life without a mate.” Tala fell into silence, a question still plain upon her face.
Shalan smiled warmly and began, “You know what the Selven are: a group of women who have taken rites of passage to ensure they remain separate. Unclaimed by a man. We study the art of healing, the use of herbs, potions, and our own psychic ability to mend and repair the body. We work on revealing all of our hidden psychic talents and increasing those we have already discovered. If we choose to,
we explore the sensual side of our nature. The Selven are often consorts to unclaimed males. A large part of our life can be to learn the sensual arts and share this knowledge with men who have not found their mates. We often school the young men before they are of age to claim a companion. You know that between the ages of 18 and 22, many Zylan males come to us for intimacy training. It has become a tradition. The young men come to the refuge and spend a month or so learning not only about male and female bodies and pleasure but also how to talk to a woman. We even have classes on link emotions, how to read them and what those emotions will tell them about their mate. Our sexual services are especially useful to the few Zylan men that are unclaimed and who are Vampen in nature.”
“Vampen?” Tala asked. “I have heard the word. In fact, I think Mica’s brother, Raj, is Vampen. But I am not entirely sure I understand what it means. I have heard…well…” Tala paused. She didn’t know how to go on.
Taking pity on the young woman before her, Shalan explained, “Vampen means only that the man is strongly psychic. For physical strength they eat and drink as we do. But the psychic power they hold is so strong they aren’t able to gather enough force from the food. Depending on the person’s abilities and how often they are used, the Vampen must renew their psychic strength by feeding on the life force of someone else. For psychic shields to drop enough to allow the Vampen to do this, the…um…donor, for lack of a better word, must experience orgasm. The Vampen will then use the release created by climax, absorbing the life essence to restore his own psychic strength.” Shalan explained. “The person donating strength is not harmed; they merely become a little tired.”
Tala looked at Shalan with mouth open wide but somehow managed to ask, “You mean the Selven have sex with them so they can…”
“Yes. Unlinked Vampen men and women are in strong demand. Each orgasm releases only a little of the essence that is needed to feed them. You can imagine the possibilities.”
Actually, Tala thought, she really couldn’t except in a vague sort of way. She’d never had an orgasm. Or ever been with a man. Except in her dreams. With Mica. “I’m not sure I’m ready for the Vampen sex thing.” Tala stated as she moved restlessly on the cushions. “How do you train for something like that?”
Shalan smiled. “You are a long way from having to worry about the sex thing, Tala. First you will get comfortable. Then when you are ready, you will go through a series of exercises to see where your gifts lie. This will help you recognize perhaps some that you are not even aware of. For example, your burgundy hair is different. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of another Zylan with hair that color. There may be something new for us all to learn.” She paused for a moment and appeared to go into a trance. Mica had said to stall her. Great! The next part was going to be hard; she had to make it up as she went along. “Tala, there is some initial studying you must complete: Selven history, some information about psychic healing, and learning how to use certain herbs. You will rest, meditate and go through a time of final acceptance.”
Tala frowned. “Shalan, how long will this take? I was thinking it would only be a few bi-nons before I would be able to take final rites.” She considered for a moment and then probed, “And what exactly are the final rites?”
Shalan forced a smile. Stretching the truth was hard for her. She prided herself on being open and honest. “It is different for everyone, Tala. But usually it takes about two nons to prepare your body and mind for final rites. Truly becoming a Selven Goddess takes many life cycles. During those years you are basically a priestess-in-training. At a specific stage in the rites, your buried companion links will be drawn out and away from your body. You may experience a slight amount of pain. Just remember, once the links are removed, you will never be able to link with a mate. You must be sure this is what you want before the ceremony, because it cannot be undone.”
“Good.” Tala said with finality. If she couldn’t have Mica, it wouldn’t matter.
And why wasn’t she happier? She was finally here ready to learn and to become a Goddess. This is what she’d wanted. Wasn’t it?
Chapter 4
Mica grimaced as he looked down at Raj. His brother’s body was a mess of bruises, cuts and abrasions but there were no bumps or lacerations on his head that might suggest why he was still unconscious. He turned to the skilled healer at his side. “Toma, he hasn’t once regained consciousness? Or moved or moaned or anything?” he asked as he worriedly studied the man before him.
“No, Mica. Nothing. I don’t understand it. Unless there is some form of poison in his system that I don’t have the skills to detect, there is no reasonable explanation for his state.” Toma replied.
Toma didn’t have the necessary skills but Mica did. “Bar the door. Don’t let any one else disturb us. I will send my mind seeking into Raj and try to discover what is keeping him from rejoining the living. You can’t interrupt, Toma. No matter what you see or hear, no matter what happens, just leave me alone unless I specifically ask for help.” So saying, Mica turned back to his brother who remained unmoving on the bed before him. He knelt beside the raised bed that Raj was stretched out on and placed his hands on either side of his brother’s head. He rested his thumbs at the hollows in Raj’s temples. Usually when Mica went seeking into another to heal, this wasn’t necessary. Only in extreme cases did he need to touch the person he was working on. Mica knew that this was one of those difficult times. His first tentative mind probe had left him with…. nothing.
Clearing his mind of all other thoughts, Mica relaxed. He consciously sent his mind down the path of physical contact to his brother. Softly he slipped inside. Nothing. Where there should have been old memories, new dreams, even just the electrical charges to preserve heartbeat and lung function, there was an empty shell. But the heart was beating and the lungs were working. Where, then, were the impulses needed to make it all happen? Mica followed the bloodstream, healing small wounds as he went. Looking for something out of place. Trying to find a spark of something to fan back into life. Nothing.
Toma watched over Mica and Raj with a concerned frown. Mica had been quiet for a long time—almost a nilt. He had never seen an internal healing take this long. And neither one of them had moved. Something should have happened by now. But there was nothing he could do but wait.
Mica cautiously moved through tissue and bone. Nothing. Again, almost without thought, he continued to repair the bruises and the cracked bone in Raj’s arm as he went along. He didn’t sense anything in the bloodstream. No obvious trace of poison. Even if Raj had been poisoned that wouldn’t explain why there wasn’t any brain activity. The body itself was fine—a little battered—but fine.
Mica slowly made his way back up through Raj towards his head. Before he had started his mind probe he had thought he would find something that would be easily apparent: the trace of toxic herbs or venom, an internal bruise that wasn’t visible on the outside…something. Now he narrowed his focus. Going progressively through everything again, he concentrated on not missing even something as small as a pinprick. Mica felt his energy receding as he continued the search.
Finally! He thought he found what he was looking for at the base of Raj’s skull right where the spinal column connected. It didn’t look like much. In fact, if it hadn’t been blue he would have missed the small dot, about the size an insect might make. Looking closer, Mica noticed several tiny threads of blue moving away and up towards the brain. Mica followed one. It was a difficult task, as the thread was so small he had to concentrate specifically on just the color. It went up and into Raj’s brain. Mica assumed the other threads were doing the same. If this one didn’t give him some idea of what was going on, he would have to follow another. He knew his body was tiring. The focus needed to keep his mind in Raj’s body would start to leave him soon. He was running out of precious time.
At the center of Raj’s brain, the thread stopped. Mica could now see the other threads. They disappeared into a blue ball about the s
ize of a pea. What in the moons?
Mica’s first reaction was to destroy the small ball but some feeling stopped him in time and he had second thoughts as he considered the possible ramifications. What if that ball was the only thing that was keeping Raj alive? His body was stable for the moment. Maybe the best action would be to pull out, rest, and see if one of the older and more experienced healers had any idea what might be causing this. If he acted without the full knowledge he needed, he could kill Raj.
Mica pulled back slowly, and left Raj’s mind. He slumped wearily beside his brother, calling to Toma, “Get me something to eat, please, then see where we might be able to find some of the ancient ones.” Mica closed his eyes and slept deeply.
* * * * *
Tala waited restlessly for Shalan in the High Priestess’ duca. The room was large and all four walls were lined with shelves overflowing with books. Allowing a small sting of homesickness, she thought of Nyssa and Tar. They never called the room at the palace a duca anymore. It was office or library or study. Tala snorted. It took them three words to describe one room—duca.
