by Davis Ashura
“Shark! Shark!” he’d yelled.
“The hell you talking about?” asked a grumpy, old man standing close by. He had the broad accent of someone from Brooklyn. “It’s a dolphin.”
William had crashed to a halt, reddened with embarrassment, and offered a nonsensical explanation for his reaction. “Oh. I’m from Ohio.”
The man had shaken his head in disgust. “Well, I’m from New York,” the man had said, except it came out as ‘New Yawk.’
“Why are you smiling?” Ms. Sioned asked. William told her, and she laughed. “You could have lied and saved yourself embarrassment.”
William shrugged, not minding her laughter. “It’s what happened, and I’m sure everyone’s done something at least that dumb.”
“Yes, but most of us are wise enough to keep it to ourselves,” Ms. Sioned said. Her eyes twinkled.
“You asked,” William said.
“So I did,” she replied. “Now, sit next to me and show me what Ward has taught you. Source your Spirit and embrace Fire.”
William did as she asked. He sourced his lorethasra, separated Fire, and connected it to lorasra. The resultant braid crackled across his torso in thin, rippling waves, and the stink of sulfur lifted from it. He smiled in pride. Not a single stumble or hiccup had marred his effort.
“Your Fire is very lovely,” Ms. Sioned said. “Almost as pure as Ward’s, but where did you learn to form the braid like that? It’s quick but inelegant.”
“Serena,” William told her. “It’s how the mahavans do it.”
“Why learn it?”
“I need to separate the Elements more quickly for when I face a mahavan.”
“I see,” Ms. Sioned said. “It must have been hard to ask Serena for help.”
Her voice and features remained nonjudgmental, but William struggled not to squirm beneath her gaze. His feelings toward Serena remained conflicted. A part of him—a shrinking portion—still distrusted her, while another part of him had long since forgiven her.
“Thicken the braid if you can,” Ms. Sioned said.
William followed her instruction.
“Now add Earth.”
William didn’t hesitate. He reached for the Element. His weave of Fire trembled a moment, and he steadied it. He formed a braid of Earth and let it wrap around his hands like a strand of ivy. It rippled in an unseen wind.
Ms. Sioned clapped her hands. “Well done,” she enthused. “Now thicken both of the braids.”
William managed it without any problem, and tried not to be smug.
“Are you up for adding Air?”
William nodded. While adding a third Element was trickier, he’d done it before. Plenty of times, in fact. He could actually hold all four braided Elements now. A notion came to him, and he added both Air and Water.
“Very nice,” Ms. Sioned said, “but don’t get over-confident.”
She sent a whiplash of Fire at his linked Elements. Her thread slammed into his Elements and incinerated all his braids.
William froze in shock. “How did you do that?”
“A trick of an old raha’asra,” Ms. Sioned said with a crooked smile.
“I don’t understand.”
“We are, somewhat, masters of all Elements,” Ms. Sioned. “We can do what others can’t.”
“Mr. Zeus once told me that only the rarest of asrasins can become masters of all five Elements. I asked if he meant raha’asras, and he said ‘no.’ But Fiona said we were masters of all the Elements. Which one is it?”
“Both,” Ms. Sioned said. “There are asrasins who are masters of all Elements—samra’asras—but their control of Spirit isn’t at the same level as a raha’asra’s. And while we can somewhat master all the Elements other than Spirit, we aren’t as powerful in our use of them as a samra’asra.
“Serena thinks I’m powerful in all of them.”
“You are more powerful than most asrasins I’ve known,” Ms. Sioned agreed, “but I have also known a true samra’asra in my time. She was old when I met her and died shortly after I came to Arylyn, but I tell you she held the raging seas and the sun within her.”
“I think Sinskrill’s Servitor is a samra’asra.”
“Given what we know of him, and what happened in Australia, you’re likely correct,” Ms. Sioned agreed. “Evil always finds a way to personal power, but perhaps with prayer and luck, it will always be defeated by the unwavering hearts of good folk.”
Jake held Selene’s hand, and they sidestepped the crowds of people clogging the narrow roads and alleys of Clifftop. The farmer’s market was held twice a week at the Village Green and during it Clifftop became a beehive of activity as everyone shopped for produce and meat. Of course, Jake never actually saw money exchange hands. Lilith’s economy didn’t require anything fancier than the barter system.
His dad probably would have complained about it, but it worked. Even the island’s government, the Village Council, had a wonderful simplicity to it: a councilor to represent each of the five Cliffs and a mayor to oversee them.
The lack of finance and government meant that the people of Lilith could do whatever they wanted without any bankers, accountants, lawyers, or bureaucrats to get in their way. At least the lack of the last two would have made his dad smile.
The memory of his father caused Jake to frown.
“Why are you sad?” Selene asked, interrupting his thoughts. She’d gotten out of school early so Jake could spend the afternoon with her.
He paused before answering the young girl, whom he thought of as a daughter and sister mixed up in one. He pulled her out of the way of a passing group of middle-aged women, holding burlap sacks in hand and pets on leashes. Most had dogs, but some had miniature lions, tigers, or bears.
Jake sometimes still found it hard to believe the fantastical things he saw on a daily basis here. Even more surprising was how everyone took those near-miracles as a matter of course.
“I was thinking about my family,” he said in answer to Selene’s question.
“You miss them,” she said, her expression solemn.
“Yes.”
“Do you wish you’d never gone to Sinskrill?” Selene asked. “That way you’d have never left them.” Her wide eyes held something akin to fear.
“I’ll always hate Sinskrill—nothing will change that,” Jake said, “but I’ll always love that I met you.” He smiled at her. “Nothing will change that, either.” He tugged on her hand. “Come on, tiny, let’s talk about something else.”
Selene grew quiet.
“What’s wrong?” Jake asked after a moment.
“Nothing,” she replied, her voice small.
“Doesn’t sound like ‘nothing,’” Jake said. “It doesn’t look like ‘nothing,’ either.” He grinned. “Is it a boy?”
“No.”
“Then what?” He grinned wider. “A girl?”
Selene smiled briefly at his inane guesses before resuming her solemn expression. “I wish you never had to go to Sinskrill, and we could have met somewhere else.”
“Why?” Jake asked, genuinely curious. Sometimes her thoughts took an odd turn and presented a different way to view a situation.
“That way you wouldn’t have to be afraid all the time,” she answered.
Jake frowned, uncertain what she meant. “What makes you think I’m afraid?” He puffed out his chest. “I escaped from Sinskrill and fought off a dozen mahavans along the way. I’m not afraid of anything.”
Selene rolled her eyes. “Everyone’s afraid,” she said. “Even William.”
Jake’s attention caught on her last observation. “You think William is braver than me?”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Selene said, “but he’s going back to save Fiona and Travail.”
Jake started to understand some of what she meant. “And you think I’m not because I’m afraid?”
Selene nodded.
“I’m not going because William is the better warrior,” he expl
ained. “He’s a lot more powerful. I’m staying because we don’t want to put both of our new raha’asras at risk. It’s the only way the Village Council will let either of us go.”
“Would you go back to Sinskrill if you could?” Selene asked.
“I’d do whatever needs to be done, even if I didn’t want to.”
“Then you’re not afraid all the time?”
Jake smiled in amusement. “I’m afraid of a lot of things, tiny, but I try not to let it keep me from doing what’s right.”
“Jessira says that’s the difference between courage and cowardice,” Selene said.
They reached the edge of the Village Green, and the glory of the escarpment spread out before them. The terraces, the cascades, River Namaste reforming midway down the cliff and meandering along a red-rock canyon, and the wild Pacific Ocean.
All of it shimmered like a fantastical dream.
“You know, if we’d never met,” Jake said, “you’d have never escaped Sinskrill, and all this would never have been yours.”
Selene cocked her head as if in thought before frowning again.
Jake sighed. “What now?”
“William is coming over for dinner tonight,” Selene said. “I wish he wouldn’t stay mad at Serena. I don’t think he wants to be, but he can’t help it.”
“I’m still mad at Serena,” Jake announced.
“But she’s not in love with you.”
Jake choked. “You think Serena loves William?”
“I’ve seen how she looks at him,” Selene said. She aped a ridiculously longing expression.
Jake barked laughter. “Where are you learning this stuff?”
“Books.”
“What kind of books?” Jake asked with a confused smile.
“The library has an entire shelf of something called Harlequin novels,” Selene answered.
Jake groaned. “We’ve got to get you more age-appropriate reading material.”
William walked the leaf-canopied path leading to Serena’s cottage with a sense of trepidation.
Twilight dimmed the world and burnished Arylyn’s sky, but the beauty did nothing to quell his nerves. Had he made a mistake in accepting Serena’s invitation for dinner? His feelings toward her remained as knotted as ever, but what bothered him most was the fear of getting hurt again.
He stepped out from beneath the shade of trees and jungle and paused at the edge of her property. The sun had passed below the horizon, and the vivid pinks and purples painting the sky slowly faded. Darkness encroached as if the world slowly closed its eyes. Waves washed against the pencil-thin shore of the lagoon, and warm golden light streamed out from the windows of Serena’s cottage. A delicious aroma wafted on the breeze, mixing with the fruity aromas of her flowers.
William smiled in appreciation.
“Are you smiling because of the flowers, the food, or something else?” Serena asked from the front porch.
William hadn’t noticed her until then. She stood, shy and proud at the same time, and he couldn’t help but admire the way her sundress clung to her lean form. Or notice her toned, tanned arms and legs.
He feigned a cough, covering his mouth as he bent his head. He hoped the encroaching darkness and his fist hid his blush. “I’m smiling because of both,” he answered. “The flowers are beautiful, and the food smells great.”
“Sile Troy has been teaching me to farm,” Serena explained, “but what I know about gardening came from my mother.”
William knew she meant her birth mother, Cinnamon, the woman whose heart had remained pure amidst the soul-crushing evil of Sinskrill.
“I remember so much about her,” Serena said, softly and with a face full of grief, “but I wish I could forget some things.”
William empathized with Serena, at what she’d endured, and what Sinskrill had done to her. He wondered who she might have become if she’d been raised in a better place.
“Mr. Zeus could help you with that,” he said.
“Like he took care of your nightmares?” Serena asked.
“You know about that?” William asked in surprise.
Serena nodded. “I’m not a hermit,” she said. “I hear things.”
“You never made much of a hermit,” William said. “You don’t have the right looks for one.”
“What’s wrong with how I look?”
“Nothing, which is what I meant when I said you don’t look like a hermit,” William replied.
“In that case, come on in,” Serena said with a grin. “The food’s out back. Your—what do I call her? She’s not your Isha.” Serena frowned for an instant before shrugging. “Anyway, Ms. Sioned gave me some new recipes. I hope you like them.”
“Ms. Sioned is my teacher.”
“Teacher sounds better,” Serena agreed, and William followed her through the small cottage into the courtyard in the back.
A stacked-stone wall enclosed a square courtyard floored with pale-pink cobblestones and a slim, curving lawn. Various potted plants lay scattered about, and hooded blue lanterns softly illuminated the space. Unlit strands of lights ran from each corner of the courtyard to a flowering mape tree, a Polynesian chestnut. Its evergreen leaves held fragrant, white blossoms. The aroma mixed with the smell of something savory.
“Watch this.” Serena sourced her lorethasra, and the smell of mint lifted off her. She reached for Fire and drew out a slender thread, elegant and controlled. It pooled in her hands, and with a flick of her wrist she sent it whipping through the branches of the mape tree and along the lines of unlit lights. They bloomed to life and cast the courtyard in a brighter, yet more ethereal glow.
William inhaled sharply at the beauty of the place. “It’s lovely.”
“Wait until ivy covers the walls,” Serena said. “Sit down.” She gestured to a long table with a set of benches on each side. It held several platters: herb-crusted chicken, arugula with spiced walnuts and raspberry dressing, and bacon-wrapped asparagus on a bed of risotto.
William inhaled deeply again. “Smells delicious,” he said, taking a seat.
“Don’t swallow the food whole,” Serena warned.
“You’re thinking of Jason.”
“You, too,” Serena says. “Ever since …”
She stumbled to a stop, but William knew what she didn’t want to say. Ever since Sinskrill. A tension touched off between them.
“Where’s Selene?” William asked, hoping to break the brittleness.
“At a friend’s house.”
“It’s just the two of us?”
“If you can stand it.”
“I can stand it,” he said, hoping the part of him that wanted to forgive her would finally kill the part that remained angry.
“Want something to drink?” Serena asked.
“Sure,” he said. He shifted beneath the intensity of her gaze, the intensity he thought he’d grown accustomed to.
She passed him a glass of iced water.
“How do you grow the flowers here?” he asked.
“It’s not easy,” Serena said. “I have to leach the salt out of the soil or the plants won’t grow.”
“And you really plan on becoming a farmer?” he asked.
Serena smiled at him, and an old memory came to William. He remembered her frequent smiles of hidden amusement. He hadn’t seen it in a long time, and he realized how much he missed it. But then again, Serena had changed so much. She wasn’t the same woman he’d known in Cincinnati and Sinskrill.
“I never thought that’s what I would end up doing,” Serena said. “I mean, I was raised to be a mahavan, a warrior of Sinskrill. But farming is so much more fulfilling. I get to grow things, feed people. I get to create beauty.”
“Mr. Zeus says the act of creation is the way we know God has touched us,” William said. “He says it’s the Creator’s mark, the way we reflect His glory.”
Serena tilted her head in thought, much like Selene sometimes did. “That sounds about right.”
De
cember 1987
Serena tightened the laces on her shoes and watched as the last few minutes of an enrune game wound down. The sun beat down on a morning that had dawned unusually humid, and a sheen of sweat beaded on her forehead. The once-lovely weather had grown hot and uncomfortable as Arylyn’s warm season took hold. According to the locals, it thankfully only lasted about a month.
The game ended when Lien scored a full goal. “Victory before dishonor!” she shouted in triumph.
Serena grinned.
Lien’s diminutive stature hid the heart of a dragon. She hated losing. It didn’t matter what the game was, enrune, euchre, or horseshoes, Lien wanted to finish first. Such a contrast to her laid-back behavior in the Far Beyond.
Then again, Arylyn had a way of changing a person.
Serena only had to think of her little sister to see it more clearly. The quiet, fearful child Serena had known on Sinskrill had transformed into a young girl who held far greater confidence. Selene could even be assertive at times.
The players from the just-finished game were still drifting off the pitch when William arrived.
Serena waved to get his attention. “Glad you decided to come.”
“You know, we’ve been here six months, and I don’t think I’ve ever stepped onto an enrune field,” he said.
“Really?” Serena hadn’t known. “You sure you’re up for this, then?” She tried to keep the doubt out of her voice. If she’d known he was such a newbie, she wouldn’t have asked him to go against such experienced players.
“I’ll be fine,” William said, sounding too sure of himself.
“It’s not only forming the braids but using them,” Serena reminded him. “And using them fast.”
“Not a problem,” William said.
Serena shrugged. They’d soon find out if his words were merely bravado.
Lien sauntered over and smirked at William. “I hope you brought your running shoes.”
He smirked right back. “You think anyone here can actually keep up with me? You can’t. We already know that.”