Taren pursed his lips. “I’ll have to take your word for it. I cannot See very strongly without Arys to help me. These shadows…I don’t see them respond to things the way you do, but I can sense their malevolence. Unfortunately I am not familiar with wounds caused by Remnants, so I cannot suggest a cure.”
Ky’ara nodded in understanding and took his hand. “I figured as much. I think my best bet is to see if I can contact Myrnai again, but last time she was the one to find me, and I don’t know how to make myself dream what I want. Anyhow, by the time I fall asleep tonight I think it will be too late for Sukylar.”
She shook her head in frustration and rubbed her temples to ward off the headache she could feel building. Taren frowned and turned to face her. “I may not know what to do about the shadows, but Sleep, that I can help you with…we Keepers were taught all sorts of tricks for getting to sleep quickly. It came in handy if you knew you had to be alert later,” he explained. “Here, come relax.”
Taren took her hand and led her to the cushioned window seat. Ky’ara sat cross-legged on the worn pillows and leaned against the wall.
“Now,” Taren started, “close your eyes gently and just focus on breathing steadily.”
Ky’ara did as he asked, trying to keep her racing mind from searching for another solution to their problem.
“Good,” Taren said softly after hearing her breath even out. He reached out and gently placed a hand on either side of her face. His touch sent a small shiver through her, a little wave of happiness that broke her concentration. “Shhhhhh,” Taren whispered softly, feeling a similar rush of happiness as the corner of Ky’ara’s mouth turned up in a smile.
“Sleep. Syommmn. Syommmn.”
His voice was layered with the tiniest spark of magic, and Ky’ara found that she no longer had to focus on clearing her thoughts—they simply drifted, her mind at rest. Her breathing was low and even and Taren felt her body relax as sleep claimed her. He sat next to her and let her drooping head lean against his shoulder. He smiled softly, and then settled in to wait.
* * * * *
Ky’ara drifted. She didn’t really feel like she had quite fallen asleep—she was still moderately aware of Taren sitting next to her. But this sensation—the drifting—felt right. It was the same way she always felt in her dreams of the Island.
‘Taren’s instructors taught them a lot more than just how to fall asleep’ Ky’ara thought wryly. His method seemed to have sent her right to the edge of the Dreamworld. She felt as though all she had to do was stop thinking and she would fall into a deep relaxing sleep. Instead she focused her thoughts on Myrnai, wondering if she could Call her somehow or if there was a way to go to her.
Suddenly Ky’ara became aware of her surroundings. Though she was fairly certain her eyes were still closed, she thought she saw a meadow stretching out around her. She could smell the faint scent of wildflowers that sprinkled the grass, and hear the muted gurgle of a stream somewhere behind her. The sky was dull, like it had been when she was visited by Myrnai the first time. She took a step forward, and the slight breeze made her aware that she was once again in a silky white dress. When she looked up again she noticed a figure ahead of her, a little to the right. “Myrnai?” she said hesitantly, her voice sounding somehow out of place. The figure turned and Ky’ara recognized the features of young Myrnai. Surprise flitted across the girl’s face and in the blink of an eye she was next to Ky’ara.
“What do you need? How did you get here?” Myrnai asked, her deep green eyes startlingly intense.
“I need your help,” Ky’ara said, “Sukylar…he’s dying, and I know that ordinary healing won’t work.”
She described the extent of the soldier’s wounds and how they were deeply infected with the shadow-magic. Then she told the healer about how she had managed to come to the Dreamworld.
“Well then,” Myrnai said briskly when Ky’ara had finished talking, “We have little enough time to save Sukylar, but I think you need some instruction regarding the Dreamworld if you are going to make visiting it a regular occurrence. We have no time now. Let us save your friend and then we shall discuss a meeting time to begin your training.”
Ky’ara was dumbstruck. She had not expected to find Myrnai so fast, but the woman almost seemed offended that she’d managed to enter the Dreamworld so easily.
“I—” Ky’ara started to reply.
“No time for other things,” Myrnai interrupted, “From what you described, that man could be overcome by the necromantic residue infesting his wounds at any moment.”
“Necromantic residue?” Ky’ara asked, “Is that what the shadows are? But if it’s just leftovers—”
“Not just leftovers! Little bits of black magic still infused with minuscule pieces of spiritual essence. They can be present as a result of necromantic activity—such as being bitten or scratched by a Dead Entity, or they can be harnessed by a Necromancer during a Raising of any sort and then used later as part of a spell. Because they are only slightly sentient, they are attracted to magic—the spiritual residue seeks release and only good magic can do that—but because the spirit is fused with dark magic, the only result is that it pulls spells out of control as the antithetical elements compete for dominance.”
Ky’ara blinked. She hadn’t expected such a detailed, technical, explanation. Myrnai knew far more than Taren did about magic—but then, she supposed, that was probably because the healer had spent the last five hundred years awake, rather than drifting in some sort of magical suspension.
Myrnai smiled faintly, “Yes, that is what comes from being awake. Also from studying in order to learn how to heal any possible injury.”
Ky’ara blushed; apparently her thoughts weren’t private here.
“Another thing we must work on in the future,” Myrnai said brusquely, “But right now there is no time. It is vital for you to remove the necromantic residue from that young man’s wounds as soon as possible, so that they can begin the actual process of healing. Even then, it is possible that irreparable damage has already occurred. But we cannot know that until after you have cleaned the wounds…”
Myrnai continued to describe what Ky’ara had to do, and though she could hear the words, the information was coming so quickly and clearly it was almost like Myrnai was putting the instructions directly into her head.
“What are you waiting for?” Myrnai said, finally finished with her explanation, “every moment now counts. You must Return. Meet me here again tonight and we’ll see about teaching you a few things.”
Ky’ara nodded mutely and focused inward. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the faint feeling of Taren sitting next to her.
* * * * *
Ky’ara opened her eyes and glanced out the window. There was only a few hours of daylight left, she would have to work fast if she was to cleanse Sukylar—Myrnai had advised against dealing with the shadows once darkness fell. Taren shifted when he noticed Ky’ara was awake.
“Well?” he asked, “did it work?”
Ky’ara nodded mutely, not trusting herself to speak. The instructions in her head were slowly fading and she didn’t want to waste a thought on speech and then forget something important. She walked over to Sukylar and sat so she was nearest his torso. Best to cleanse the side wound first, Myrnai had advised, necromantic residue was particularly harmful to the heart and lungs.
Focusing her thoughts, Ky’ara conjured a sphere of pure Light, the kind that burned brightly enough to destroy the shadow stuff as soon as it touched. Then, taking her belt-knife, she careful made a small slit on the side of Sukylar’s chest, reopening that part of his wound.
Taking a deep breath, Ky’ara sent the smallest tendril of magic into the wound, and then drew it back towards her as one might draw a fishing line out of the water. Following her bait was a thin stream of darkness, which she quickly used the Light in her other hand to destroy. The stream stopped after a moment and Ky’ara sent another small tendril of magic into her
patient, again pulling it out and burning the shadows which followed. Soon she had the knack of it, and a steady stream of Necromantic residue left Sukylar’s body as she reached over and over again with a bit of magic to tempt it out. When the veins on his chest had returned to their normal color, Ky’ara repeated the procedure on Sukylar’s leg wound, destroying each and every particle of darkness almost before it reached the air outside his body. Only when she was sure every last bit was gone did she send a wave of healing magic through his body, cleansing the more ordinary contaminants from his blood, soothing his burns, and closing the gashes on his side and leg. Then, when Sukylar opened his eyes, she sent him into a restful sleep that would hopefully finish off the healing process.
By the time she was finished, she could barely keep her eyes open. Taren lifted her gently from the chair and carried her to the next room over. Ky’ara protested weakly as he pulled the covers over her and drew the curtains. “Hush. You need your sleep. I’ll come get you if anything changes with Sukylar.” He kissed her on the forehead and before he had even left the room, she was asleep.
Chapter 10: Sleepwalking
Ky’ara found herself standing in the meadow where she had left Myrnai. I wonder if I will be doubly tired when I wake up again, or if it’ll be as though I was actually sleeping during these little expeditions? she thought absently.
“Your body will be completely rested, but emotionally and mentally you may feel less refreshed…those parts of yourself are still being used when you Walk.”
Ky’ara startled and turned to face Myrnai.
“You really need to stop shouting your thoughts everywhere my dear,” the old/young woman chided her gently, “It is impolite…and potentially dangerous when you’re trying to avoid unwanted attention from those others who touch this plane.”
Ky’ara smiled faintly. “Believe me I’d be perfectly happy to keep my thoughts to myself.”
“Then do it.” Myrnai said brusquely, “The key to everything here is truth. Your innermost thoughts and desires…those are amplified, while all else is muted. So in order to keep your thoughts private all that is necessary is truly wishing them to be so. It only takes a moderate amount of concentration, similar to the kind you use to control your magic.”
Ky’ara furrowed her brow in annoyance. Clearly it wasn’t that simple or she’d never have broadcast her feelings in the first place…
“Usually we secretly want people to know when we’re annoyed, even when we tell ourselves we’re trying to hide it,” Myrnai said wryly, “So I’d suggest you decide you don’t want me responding to your ‘private’ thoughts…when I called you here the first time you were so locked down you couldn’t function, now you’re shouting it everywhere—maybe try to settle for something in between?”
Ky’ara took a mental breath, emptying her mind momentarily and letting go of the annoyance, the stress from worrying about Sukylar, and the weariness from travelling. Did she really want to broadcast her emotions in this unfamiliar and potentially dangerous place? No, she decided conclusively, she did not.
“Much better.” Myrnai nodded her head approvingly. “Now, what to cover next?
The next few hours—or was it days? Or merely minutes?—Ky’ara did her best to absorb the information Myrnai flooded her with: She should NEVER attempt to physically enter the Dreamworld—even touching it in her sleep held the danger of becoming stuck there. DreamWalking (or just Walking as Myrnai often referred to it) was not just for idle entertainment, but only for when she could get answers or solutions in no other way. Everything was possible in the Dreamworld, which took its shape from your own thoughts. This also meant that, to some degree, others could control you while you were there, if their will was stronger than your own. If she ever encountered anything that felt Dark she was to wake up immediately. The list went on and on. By the time Myrnai arranged with her to meet again in a few nights, Ky’ara was more than ready to slip into the emptiness of ordinary sleep.
* * * * *
The moon’s pale light reflected off of the glistening waters of a secluded lake. Trees surrounded the shoreline, and a bank of fog gathered at the center, obscuring something. The fog undulated sluggishly…Ky’ara sighed, how had she possibly hoped for regular sleep? It had been days since she’d dreamed of the island, but apparently touching the Dreamworld earlier had sucked her back here again. Might as well try to put all that information to use, she thought tiredly. With a deliberate wave of her hand the fog cleared enough to reveal the island, and she glided across the lake almost instantaneously, feeling the sand beneath her feet as she reached the shore and passed into the forest beyond. She thought of the ruins Nisse had shown her before the attack, willing herself to be there…and felt the fog snap back into place around her, sending her reeling backwards with the sudden disorientation. Apparently it was not going to be that easy after all.
Ky’ara sighed and sat down, willing her thoughts to clear. If you’re going to force me here all the time you may as well show me whatever it is I’m supposed to be seeing, she grumbled. The fog undulated slightly, as though in response, but nothing else happened. She sat there for a minute, a day, a second, and then sighed. Fine, if I can’t see what’s on the island, maybe I can remember how to get there instead. Ky’ara closed her eyes for a moment and thought back to what Nisse had shown her. The fog receded slightly, revealing the lake and the river that fed it. She crossed the lake and began to follow the river, trying to retrace the course the Nymph had begun to show her before they had been interrupted by the Remnants.
In the blink of an eye she found herself standing on the beach where that confrontation had taken place. Ky’ara looked around herself in confusion. She hadn’t covered nearly enough area to have arrived at this spot…thinking of the encounter must have brought her here. She pursed her lips in frustration: she had intended to become more familiar with the route. This was decidedly unhelpful; it was not where she wanted to be. The fog shifted slightly and Ky’ara stepped forward in confusion, walking along the beach back towards where Berd’s cottage would be if this was the real world. After a few moments the shore got rockier, and up ahead a few trees loomed through the fog. She paused and looked behind her in confusion. This wasn’t where she had met Nisse, it was further north, near the place Berd had described finding Taren…what was that dark form on the beach?
Ky’ara tensed involuntarily, waiting to feel the sense of cold that had accompanied the other necromantic raisings. It didn’t come and the figure didn’t move. She took a step closer, out of curiosity. It almost looked like a person…Taren? But that didn’t make sense, Berd had found him here over a year and a half ago...now he couldn’t possibly…maybe it was just an illusion, she had been thinking about the event after all. Myrnai had said that her thoughts helped shape this world around her...Ky’ara reached the prostrate figure and verified that it did in fact look exactly like Taren—except his clothing was more archaic. Instead of the nondescript tunic and traveler’s cloak he had worn when she first met him, he was wearing an ornate blue surcoat and a heavy cloak emblazoned with various symbols she could only assume indicated his alliance to the druids. If he was just a figment of her thoughts why would he be wearing something she never would have thought to imagine?
The fog swirled around his motionless form…as far as she could tell he wasn’t even breathing. “Taren?” she said hesitantly, kneeling on the sand and putting a hand on his shoulder. He felt solid—more solid in fact than the ground she knelt on. It was strange…until that moment she hadn’t realized that she felt…wispy. In her interactions with Myrnai the other woman had felt firm…but compared to Taren she may as well have been insubstantial. What did that mean? Myrnai had warned her never to physically enter the dream world, something she hadn’t really concerned herself over since she would have no idea how to attempt such a thing anyways…but here was Taren’s body, clearly a part of the physical world and somehow here at a time when she knew him to be alive…was it possible
that travel through the Dreamworld included jumps in time as well? Myrnai had warned her that things were different here. It was incredibly easy to become lost if you did not maintain careful control of your thoughts—you could end up “skipping” almost anywhere, as she had while traveling the waterways. Was it possible that that could include skips in time as well?
Ky’ara smiled ruefully. Hadn’t Myrnai told her from the start that Anything was possible here? Apparently I do not listen very well, she thought to herself. She looked back down at Taren’s inert form and couldn’t help smiling. He looked so peaceful, much more relaxed than he did when he slept in the real world…somehow, there, he usually managed to look guarded even with his eyes closed. She couldn’t resist, she bent down and kissed him softly on the forehead. His skin warmed under her touch and she jerked back in surprise. His chest lifted and fell now at regular intervals.
Uh oh.
As she watched with growing alarm, his body faded till only a faint glow remained where he had lain. Had she just sent him back to the real world? She remembered Joran’s amusement at how random Taren’s awakening had apparently been—he’d blamed her influence as an Ysinkai. No, that wasn’t right, he’d implied that she was the reason Berd had found Taren…but if she was the reason Taren had been returned to the physical world, she was probably responsible for that as well…which meant that she’d better figure out a way to influence Berd from her, or Taren’s now breathing body would likely drown when the tide came in.
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