The Unforeseen One

by Lexy Wolfe

  “It worked. That is all that matters. Come.” He put a hand on the other’s shoulder. “I need a drink or I’ll not sleep for a month.” He laughed at the sardonic expression Terrence shot him.

  Seated at the small table in their bedroom, Ash glanced up from his journal at the tugging on his sleeve. He frowned in concern at the anxiety on the child’s face. “What’s the matter, Izkynder?”

  The boy looked over at Storm, then back. “I’ve been bad, Uncle Ash. I’m sorry.” The mage blinked at first in mild surprise at the more mature phrasing, then tilted his head to the side in silent question. “I have been hiding how grown up I am from everyone. And hiding is kinda like lying, right? Aunt Storm doesn’t like hiders. Or liars.”

  Ash’s expression softened. “No, she doesn’t. But she doesn’t make anyone talk about things until they are ready, either.” He pushed the other chair out with his foot and waved to him to sit. “I am glad you are now. I have been waiting for you to speak up for quite a while.”

  Izkynder stared with wide eyes before he scrambled up into the seat. “You…knew? I thought only Papa knew.”

  “No, I didn’t know. I suspected, though.” Ash put the cap on the ink bottle, setting his stylus aside. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he gave the boy his full attention. “Most parents will see their children as exceptional. I expect to be completely biased when Storm and I have children one day.

  “You, however, have been far too clever. Too mature now and then, even for a Desanti.” He studied him for several moments. “Though it’s been a little uneven, I think.” Izkynder tilted his head. “Your mind is outpacing your body, isn’t it.”

  “Oh. Well, it’s hard getting used to my body. It doesn’t hurt so much if I fall down when I’m small. Sometimes talking is harder, too, and I don’t want to sound stupid. I know what I want to say, but I can’t figure it out for some reason.”

  “Mm hm. So, you’ve been growing up faster on purpose.”

  Izkynder’s face turned bright red. He dropped his eyes, fidgeting. “Maybe?” The chitan hissed at Ash, hushing when his human put a light hand on his head.

  A faint smile touched the mage’s lips. “I had a long talk with Kendle about the testing.” The boy looked up, his expression filled with guilt. “He said it was your idea to have him take you so Storm would follow and stop blocking the Roylat’s call to us. He didn’t want to upset her like taking you obviously had.”

  “Um. I’m not sure if I should be sorry or not? I know it was mean to do to her. She was really worried and afraid for me and really mad at Kendle.” He leaned forward to whisper loudly. “I never saw her so angry!”

  “Scary, isn’t she?”

  He nodded with child-like vigor. “Uh huh. But you both would have died if you didn’t go and I wasn’t talking real good yet, so I couldn’t ask her to stop.” He bit his lip, looking at the sleeping woman. “Do you think she will forgive me?”

  “I don’t know. You will have to ask her for forgiveness yourself. But for myself…” He put his hand on the boy’s knee. “Thank you, Izkynder.”

  “You’re welcome?” He fidgeted, touching the opalescent white mark on his left cheek. “You don’t think I’m a freak?”

  “Hardly. You are your mother and father’s child, but it was Storm and Skyfire who protected you from the temporal energies Taylin used to keep Almek alive. A spiritwalker and a mortal Totani.” He shrugged. “With such a beginning, having something unique about you was bound to be realized. More than just an odd birthmark.”

  He crossed his arms, frowning. “I don’t know if I like being ‘unique,’ Uncle Ash. I’m not like any of the other children in Sharindel. It’s lonely.”

  Ash rested his chin on his hand, regarding the boy. “Do you want to be like other children your age?”

  The boy looked up, horrified. “No! I’m barely a year old. Everyone my real age can’t walk or talk, they mess themselves and it’s just…embarrassing.” Ash covered his smile with one hand, forcing a thoughtful expression around his eyes as he listened.

  “It’s just…I can tell Storm and Skyfire feel guilty when they look at me, and I want them to know they don’t need to feel like that. Mama’s worried there is something wrong with me, and I want to make her feel better. But I don’t know how to fix any of it. I don’t like when people’s hearts hurt, especially because of me.”

  Ash no longer smiled, but rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he studied his sleeping lifemate. “What did you want after you were born?”

  Eyes on his hands in his lap, the boy said in a small voice, “I wanted to make people happy. I don’t want to be a burden or trouble or anything that would annoy anyone. When people feel bad, it makes me kinda itchy.”

  “I see.” Ash studied the boy. “So, you are making yourself grow up faster more for others than for yourself?” he asked in a quiet voice. When he flinched, the man smiled. “I see. You know, I think a little bit of you is Desanti, Izkynder.”

  He looked up with a frown. “I don’t understand, Uncle Ash. Papa is Vodani, not Desanti.”

  “Yes, but somewhere in you is a little bit of your Uncle Skyfire and Aunt Storm. Not just appearances, but some of their behavior. What they can do, how they act…” He reached over to ruffle the boy’s multi-colored hair. “Especially the stubborn determination. A lot of children want nothing more than to grow up so they can do what they see adults doing.

  “But for Desanti, it has been a necessity. And having had so much unusual influences while your mother was pregnant with you, you can do things with a thought we’ve had to learn. It is not a bad thing. You have a good heart, Izkynder. But enjoy being a child and let your parents enjoy being parents. For every ‘burden’ a child gives their parents, it gives them joy when they watch them move past them.”

  He frowned, pondering Ash’s words. “You are not just saying that, are you?”

  “No, Izkynder, I am not,” Ash assured, waiting with patience while the boy squinted at him in scrutiny, his eyes waxing gold for a moment.

  “Izkynder!” Both looked toward the main room when Taylin called to her son. He looked at Ash, anxious and worried. The mage gave him a reassuring smile as his mother appeared at the door. “Oh, thank goodness. Forgive me, Ash. I had just closed my eyes for a moment and—”

  “There is nothing to forgive, Taylin. It was a pleasure to sit with our youngest tlisan while you napped. I know Skyfire’s accelerated training of the Unsvet guardsmen has been running you ragged.”

  Izkynder closed his eyes a moment, then met his mother’s eyes. “Mama? I made myself grow up fast so I would not bother you so much.” He looked down in shame as she knelt by his chair. “I know it makes you feel bad and I’m sorry. I won’t do it anymore, I promise. I don’t want you feeling bad because of me.”

  Taylin stared at him in horror for a moment, covering her mouth with one hand. “Oh, Izkynder.” She hugged him tight. “Did I make you think you were a bother? I am so sorry! You could never be a bother to me.” She took him by the hand. “Come, let’s go gather herbs and teas to dry so we have them when we’re in Desantiva.” She added as they headed out, “And maybe I’ll show you which plants can turn your tongue blue.”

  “Blue?! Yay!” The boy held onto his mother’s hand, pulling her behind him in his exuberance.

  Ash smiled as he watched the two leave. His smile faded when he turned his gaze back toward Storm. Quietly, he shut the door then knelt by the bed, taking her hand in both of his. He pressed his lips against her knuckles, eyes closed, for several minutes before he murmured. “You are not a burden to me, Aelia.”

  Her hand twitched, a tear escaping to roll from the corner of her eye into her hair. “Liar,” she rasped in a whisper. “Look at me.” She raised her other hand a few inches before it fell back to the bed. “I am the definition of a burden. I am weak.”

  “You are healing,” he countered. “Even your divine father had to rest after the battle to save the Knowing One
.”

  She frowned, opening her eyes to glare at him. “How can you compare me to Him? He fought to save His sister. I tried ending my existence! It is an unforgivable act.” She turned her face away. “I bring shame to the na’Zhekali. I nearly brought unending grief to you.”

  He moved to sit beside her, his outward expression impassive, but inside his heart ached for the woman. “I forgive you, Aelia.”

  Storm stared at him in uncomprehending confusion. “Why? How? Your people do not even see death as anything but a terrible curse. You would have been left wounded for eternity and it would have been my fault.”

  Ash covered her lips with his finger, hushing her. “It was not your fault. The fault lies with the ancient trinity.” He caressed her hair soothingly, holding her gaze with his. “I would have done the same as you, were I in your place.”

  Her scowl slowly crumbled into anguished grief at the thought of him being gone. “You?”

  “Yes. It is unforgivable that the Unchanging One attempted to coerce you after you were promised you could choose. I could well imagine if coercion failed, She might have looked to threaten those you care for and protect to get Her way.” He rubbed his thumb along her jaw. “You wished to protect us from such a threat, and removing yourself would certainly end that threat immediately.”

  “But I did not try another way first,” she argued. “You always criticize me for using extreme methods before anything else.”

  “What other way could there have been?” he countered. “Facing the creators of our entire existence? I cannot think what other options you had.” He drew her into into his arms, holding her fiercely tight. “I forgive you because I would have done the same to protect you from Them.”

  “You have to leave me.” He frowned in confusion at her anxiousness. “You know all of you need to go to Desantiva. You should not fail in your duties just because I am forbidden from—” He put his finger over her lips to silence her, then leaned close, brushing her lips with his before their foreheads touched. As he shared a memory, he felt her begin to tremble.

  Eyes were dark with emotion as she looked at him when he sat back. “You…you faced Father? For me?”

  “Yes. I was separated from you for two thousand years. I will not allow even your Father to keep us apart.” Light fingers caressed her hair. “He gave you permission. You can go home to Desantiva without disobeying Him. You can return with honor. And with your family.” He closed his eyes, just holding her as tearless sobs wracked her.

  Tyrsan leaned on the edge of the heavy table, arms crossed as he watched Benilus pace. With a brief pang of nostalgia for the place he had occupied for so long, he focused on the man who replaced him as Dulain. “I had warned you before I would be returning to wandering.”

  He stopped pacing to glare. “I thought you meant in a few years. Perhaps a decade! Not inside the year.” He shook his head and resumed pacing. “I’m not ready for this.”

  “You are ready,” the larger man assured. He walked over to the cabinet to take down a tumbler and poured a generous amount of alcohol. He held it in front of Benilus as the man turned. “Drink this. Relax. You are going to give yourself a nervous breakdown if you do not calm down.”

  Knocking back the drink in one swallow, he took a half step, stopping to shudder as the alcohol hit him all at once. He squinted at the bottle. “Good gods, where did you find that stuff?”

  “Valerian found it during one of his wanderings. His secret, he’s said.” Tyrsan poured more into the tumbler, pointing out, “You and he are in good company, you know. He is Dulain in Forenta.”

  “I suppose I could have it worse. He has to deal with the Forentan mages and their council.” He dropped into a chair with a heavy sigh. “Are you sure about leaving?”

  “Very. Ever since my earliest days here, I have wanted to redeem the Desanti’s reputation.” He closed his eyes with a sigh. “But I kept putting off actually going to Desantiva with excuses of duty to our mistress coming first.”

  Benilus kicked one of the chairs out in oblique invitation for the other to sit. “I don’t know. Given Storm and Skyfire, that sounds rather Desanti in attitude.”

  Tyrsan smirked, pouring himself some of the alcohol, setting the bottle on the table. “Sad, but true. I put my service to Her, to Sanctuary, before everything else. It made an easy excuse for not going to Desantiva.” He looked toward the window. “I think deep inside, I let my fears get in the way.” He arched an eyebrow when Benilus began coughing, voice droll. “Really?”

  “Sorry.” Red-faced, the other rubbed his mouth, clearing his throat. “I never imagined you having any fears, much less admitting to them.”

  The former Dulain grunted, eyes dropping to his glass. “I suppose that was my one failing. I would tell others to face their fears, but I never did so myself.” He smirked. “I was such a hypocrite.”

  “You’re facing them now.” Benilus chuckled. “And now that you’re free of your Dulain duties, you bear Dusvet marks…you’ve no excuse.” He raised his glass. “How could I do any less than the greatest Dulain Sanctuary’s ever had?”

  Tyrsan chuckled, their glasses clinking together. “I certainly can’t turn back now.” He drank then rested his glass on the table. “You’ll do fine. Perhaps better if I am not here.” He held up a hand. “If I stay, you’ll forever second guess yourself and come to me to soothe your worries.”

  Benilus frowned. “But what if I make mistakes?”

  “If you don’t, I’ll be incredibly envious. You’re going to make mistakes. I’d made plenty. So did our predecessors, and so will our successors.” He shrugged one shoulder. “The only advice I can leave you with is what had been left with me.”

  The big man shifted to lean forward. “Don’t worry about being right, or wrong, or whether or not you are making a mistake. Worry about getting things done to the best of your ability. Worry about knowing the abilities of others, as you will more often be asking them to do things in your place as a leader. Whatever they do will be your responsibility for good or ill.” He sat back with a half smile. “And seek out the advice or perspectives of others.”

  “When in doubt?” Benilus tilted his head, surprised when Tyrsan shook his head. “No?”

  “Even when not in doubt, because you won’t know what you don’t know.” Tyrsan’s expression turned grave. “We’re going to be leaving you in uncertain times. Some of our numbers betrayed the Timeless One. There may be others similarly discontent. Believe me, my heart will ache not knowing whether you and the rest will be safe or not.” He closed his eyes. “But that would turn into yet another excuse to avoid going to Desantiva if I stay.”

  Benilus looked at his glass, swirling the liquid still there in an idle motion. “If the Desanti have taught me one thing, it is you cannot live life depending on others so much that functioning all but stops if they are absent.” He exhaled and offered a wan smile. “I’m going to still wish you were here.”

  Tyrsan winked as he lifted his glass. “It is good to be wanted.” Benilus laughed. The two finished their drinks. The former Dulain pushed himself up with a sigh. “I should get back to the dormitory. Dinner will be brought soon.”

  “Let me know if there is anything the na’Zhekali need. Many are eager to give aid to those who have given us all hope that they can yet earn their second color.” He smiled faintly. “The first to make the attempt should be returning in some few days. They want to show them they aren’t alone.”

  “I think Almek will appreciate there being other Dusvets more than the na’Zhekali.” Tyrsan smiled. “But we look forward to meeting them.” His smile faded as he looked up the mountainside in the dormitory’s direction.

  The tribe sat around the table, eating in troubled silence. Ash opened his mouth to ask for a roll and blinked when he watched Mureln pick one up, passing it to Taylin who handed it to him. He tilted his head, watching the unconscious responses to wants and could not help but smile. Memories of Nolyn and him as boys do
ing the same came to mind as their bond made speaking often unnecessary.

  Everyone startled, looking toward the bedroom door where Storm half-collapsed against the frame. Her eyes were closed as she focused on standing without its support. She managed two steps before she stumbled. With determination, she struggled back to her feet.

  Most of the tribe jumped up to help her, but Ash held up one hand, reinforcing the silent order to stay over the tribal bond. Mureln met the mage’s eyes for several moments before he murmured just loud enough for those at the table to hear him. “Wait for her to ask.”

  Most could not bear watching as the young Desanti woman kept trying to get to her feet. Having fallen so often, her knees left patches of blood, but she kept fighting. A pair of indigo boots appeared in her field of vision, and she looked up to see Kendle crouching by her. “Why are you still here?” she growled, looking away.

  He smiled with a shrug. “I am healing from the thrashing you gave me. You are exceptionally thorough and efficient, my friend.”

  She made a disgusted sound, trying to push herself up, only to collapse to her knees again. “The damage was only physical. Taylin could have mended you.”

  “After my failure to stop the war during the First Sundering and the suffering I caused you and your lifemate during the Second? I deserve far more than this.” He shrugged again. “I will be gone soon enough. I wanted to be sure you were well before I go.”

  She shook her head, clenching her fists as she prepared to attempt getting to her feet again. “You cannot take the blame for others’ failures, Kendle.” She grunted, managing only to fall forward, barely able to roll to her side so her shoulder took the impact of her fall. “Taylin is a skilled healer. It is foolish to turn away help when it is there.”

  The Roylat grinned. “If I should accept aid from another, don’t you think you should start applying the same standards to yourself? The ancient trinity failed, not you. You have an entire tribe ready to aid you. And a friend, if you’ll still have me.” She opened her eyes to see his hand held out to her in silent offer. Without a word, she accepted his assistance up and support keeping her on her feet as they walked to the table.