by Lexy Wolfe
Star put a hand on his cheek, making him meet her eyes. “There is nothing petty about the heart. But I understand your hurt.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “I will not speak of the matter again.”
He was about to say something when an aerial squabble erupted above the children’s heads. Terrence’s forest sprite, the desert pixie, Chitta and the orange and brown speckled chitan that followed them squabbled, darting at each other. Laurel began to cry and Izkynder crouched over her protectively, waving one arm at the creatures.
He could not help but smile, albeit sadly, as he watched his gentle lifemate turn into a fierce protective mother. She swatted the quarreling things away and gathered the children close to her, wagging a finger at the tiny beings as she scolded them. All four subsided, cowed as she took them to task. He turned his right palm up, studying the star-shaped scar, lost in tumultuous thoughts.
Bella watched Jaison pace for several minutes as she sat on watch with her crossbow resting on her leg. “What in the world has you so itchy?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he snapped.
“Liar.” She drew back when he spun and glared at her. “For the love of gods, you were less moody when there were things wrong.” She let the crossbow swing down to her side and walked over, putting her hand on his arm. “I’d offer a tumble, but I don’t think that’s what you need.” She nodded toward Storm. Skyfire and Tyrsan trained in the open area near her. “Go talk to your Alanis.”
“I don’t want to bother her,” he grumbled, turning away and crossing his arms, every inch as stubborn as the pregnant woman they discussed.
“Trust me. I think she would love something to distract her from her discomfort.” The Vodani rolled her eyes. “Stars! I swear I can sit and watch her belly expanding with those growing babies.”
Jaison watched Storm for several heartbeats in simmering anger before he heaved a sigh, his shoulders sagging. “You are right. I should.”
“Of course I am. Now go, before you talk yourself out of it and bite someone’s head off.” She patted her hair. “Especially mine. I am rather fond of it.” He rolled his eyes, but smiled at the teasing humor, walking over to Storm.
She did not even look up from cleaning her swords. “So, you are finally acknowledging it.” Skyfire and Tyrsan paused their training, listening with curiosity.
Jaison took a partial step back, not noticing the attention directed toward him. “…What do you mean?”
“The call of the land. The need to test yourself. To prove you are an adult.” She looked up with a tired smile. “Did you think it was just a whimsical decision for our people? With our numbers so few, every life is hung onto as tightly as possible. Many would never let the children go if there was a choice. But we must.” As she struggled to stand, he quickly stepped forward, offering his hands.
With gratitude, she accepted his assistance, making a face as she stretched briefly. “The shli’zarii for Skyfire and I was an urge I put off as long as I could, but any longer would have made me ill. If I waited longer, I would have been unfit and he may well have killed me.”
“But…what do I do? I know the Vodani have various tests they must pass to be considered an adult. Not sure if they have anything in Sevmana or Forenta.” He waved his hands helplessly. “Do I just wander out there looking under rocks to see if a knife is there?”
Tyrsan grunted, crossing his arms. “Well, he’s certainly mastered Desanti literalness. Or perhaps he picked up Sevmanan sarcasm. I must ponder this.” Skyfire laughed, shoving the other man’s shoulder lightly.
Storm smiled briefly at them before giving Jaison her full attention. “To be an adult of the people, you must not only feel the land in your heart, but your heart must be felt by the land. The Totani are a part of the land. The one that hears you first will come to you.” Her smile faded as she put a hand on his chest. “But you cannot return until you have your name.”
He frowned, his expression troubled. “But what if I don’t ever feel it? If I came back without…” She looked away. His eyes dilated. “You would kill me if I returned?” He did not notice Skyfire putting a hand on Tyrsan’s shoulder, keeping him from interrupting.
“Normally…yes. There are some expectations where failure is not tolerated.” She squared her shoulders and met his horrified gaze. “But since you are a Dusvet Guardian, you would be banished from the tribe. We would escort you back to Home Port, but you would never be allowed to return to Desantiva. Or to the tribe.”
“Stripped of the tribal bond?” She nodded once. “But…how would I live?”
“It is not impossible. It becomes a matter of whether you want to.” Storm put her hands on his arms. “But I have faith in you. You are Githalin Swordanzen Hunter il’Thandar’s son. You were born na’Zhekali. The land is a part of you, no matter how long you were away from it.” She cautioned, “But be wary of entering the Blighted Lands. Do not eat nor drink anything from there until we, as a tribe, go to purify it. We will await your return before we move on.”
“When will you…leave here?” he asked, his throat suddenly dry.
“When you have returned and rested. Or,” she added with great reluctance, “when we no longer feel you within the bayuli-volsha. But I have faith.” She poked his chest. “So must you.” She gave an imperious wave. “Get three days rations and go. Now.” He blinked, then nodded without a word. He got his supplies and went to Bella.
Noting his serious demeanor, Bella forced a light-hearted smile. “Hey. How did—” Before she could finish speaking, he pulled her into a fierce embrace, giving her a long kiss before he released her, then turned and strode out into the desert.
The Vodani woman blinked, her confusion turning to alarmed shock when she realized what he was doing. She went to Storm, pointing at his disappearing figure. “Now? You are sending him out there alone? Now?”
“Skyfire and I have trained and taught him as much as we could. He must prove he is truly one of the people by himself.”
“But he could die on his own out there!” Bella argued. “What kind of stupidity—?”
“Shut up, Bella,” Skyfire interceded, glaring at her. He put an arm around Storm and drew her away, but not before the Vodani woman saw a tear track on Storm’s cheek.
Tyrsan led Bella in the other direction. She opened her mouth to argue, but he chided her to silence. “Enough. They are Desanti customs. This is the understanding we must gain of Desantiva’s people so we can educate the other Guardians before they come here. It is not our place to cast judgment. Bearing the Timeless One’s marks will only go so far here. We must prove ourselves in the eyes of the Raging One’s children, most especially because we Guardians had abandoned them.”
“But it is so harsh! With so few people, why would they let anyone risk themselves like that? Especially children!” She waved a hand in the direction Jaison had disappeared in. “He is the only other living person blood related to the original na’Zhekali tribe. Why would she risk losing him? Couldn’t she consider making an exception for him?”
He looked at the horizon. “It is for survival, and it is brutally objective in its methodology. No one is exempt from the trials. With so little provided by the land, any significantly greater numbers in population would result in catastrophic death to both humans, beasts, and plants.”
His expression was grim. “This is why this land must be restored, so they do not need to cull their own numbers with such ruthlessness.” She followed his glance toward Storm and Skyfire. The tall man wrapped his arms around her, Lyra joining the two and hugging them both in mute, uncritical support. “And perhaps not fear so much they may lose the last of their blood family.”
Five days into his search, exhausted and dehydrated, a disoriented Jaison turned his ankle on some loose rocks. He stumbled forward several steps then slammed his face into the dry ground peppered with wind-smoothed pebbles. He looked at his bloody palms with resigned weariness then dropped his forehead on one wrist. “What do you w
ant from me?” he rasped, throat parched. “Is this my punishment for leaving Desantiva? You want me dead? There had to be faster ways than this.”
“Do not be silly, boy,” a lilting voice whispered. “Your sire guided you true. A gift to the Timeless One, you were. To give a modicum of stability to Her until His children healed from their wounds.” He raised his head, frowning as he tried to focus on the figure crouched near and watching him. He blinked in an attempt to clear the blurriness of grays and red-oranges. “Fortunate you were sent, too. Our lord father did not know it would be protecting one of his favorite daughter’s bloodline.”
Jaison struggled to push himself up, the stranger not moving to aid him. He fell to his elbows several times before he managed to get to his knees, hands painfully pressing into the pebbled ground to keep himself up. “Who…are you?” He started to reach for his quarterstaff, but he nearly toppled when he removed one hand of support.
“Senigu.” The hermaphroditic being covered in gray feathers save for brilliant flame reds along the sides of its head and back. It tilted its head as it studied him. “You will die soon if you do not find water, boy.”
All Jaison’s irritation could muster was a frown. “I know. I can’t find any. Unless you have some to offer, go away and let me die in peace.”
Senigu tsked and shook its head. “And what would you learn from charity?”
“More than I would if I die,” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes with the back of one hand, shaking his head in a vain attempt to clear his mind.
“Hm. You do have a point, boy.” Senigu put a soft hand under Jaison’s chin, tilting his face up and putting the smooth edge of a shallow cup to his mouth. The moment the liquid touched his sun-parched lips, the desperate man’s attention focused completely on the water. After several greedy swallows, Senigu took the cup away. “There. Now you will not die. Not right away, at least.”
Jaison reached out as Senigu took the water. “Wait!” His eyes went wide when they focused on the bird-like being crouched across from him. “…Senigu?” With a tilt of the head and bright smile, the Totani nodded. “What…are you?”
It laughed and shrugged. “You mean my beast side?” Jaison drew back instinctively as the Totani’s form melted to reform into a bird with a longer neck and a wide wingspan. Soft grays patterned its body, the top of its head and edges of its wings and tail feathers fiery reds. I am called a firebrand, but only because of my coloring. A little misleading, unfortunately.
“I thought…firebrands lived along the ocean coasts. Mother used to tell me about them before...” He looked away, a pang of heartache for his long lost parent.
They do. Most live on small islands just off the coast of our great father’s territory. There is sadly not nearly as much water in Desantiva as there had once been. Golden brown eyes blinked once as it studied Jaison. What bothers you, boy? Aside from the physical ails. I can tell your heart aches. Why?
“You’re here to give me my adult name, aren’t you?”
Perhaps. I am not sure you are ready.
Jaison raised his eyes, frowning. “Not ready? What in the hells do I need to do?” He gestured to the harsh landscape. “I have wandered around alone for days, not having any idea what I’m supposed to do. My food and water are gone. I couldn’t find my way back to my tribe now if I wanted. The longer I’m gone, the more they worry. Though they try to hide it. Especially Storm. I don’t want to cause her to stress so much. She has enough with her pregnancy and leading the tribe.
“And now I’ve found a Totani and I still won’t get my name?” His shoulders sagged wearily. “What is the point of this trial?”
Technically, I found you. The man scowled, hands curling into fists as they rested on his thighs. And the point is to know yourself. Jaison looked up, perplexed. You were told different?
“Storm said…I had to feel the heart of the land and the land had to feel mine.” He turned away in anguish. “I don’t feel a part of anything here. I am still an outsider.”
Do you feel nothing because you cannot or because you are afraid doing so will smother your Vodani half? Senigu moved closer, angling its head to catch Jaison’s eyes. There is no shame in wishing to honor both halves of your heritage. In wishing to hold onto the parts both parents gifted you. Even young Aelia will say family is perhaps the most vital bond that exists. Especially more when those before us are gone.
“But she is the one who said I had to give up the Vodani in me to fully become Desanti.”
Ah. If she said that, then she was either confused herself or this life’s bias has seeped in and she forgot the lessons she had taught the rest of us Totani when she was one of us. Senigu ruffled its wings, the gesture reminiscent of a shrug. Or you misunderstood her. Always a possibility. More and more each life she has lived, she speaks less and acts more. A troublesome change. Its form changed back to the bestial man. “But that is irrelevant to you. You must know who and what you are. And what you are not. You are not Desanti.”
“Please, Senigu,” Jaison begged, a tear escaping his closed eyes. “What must I do to be accepted as Desanti? If I fail, Storm will be the last na’Zhekali. I can’t abandon her. Not after everything she—”
“I misspoke.” Gentle fingers touched his wet cheek. “You are not only Desanti. Within you beats not only Desantiva’s heart, but Vodanya’s as well. Vodanya is not lesser than our great father. Only younger.” Jaison looked up to meet its eyes. “Your father loved your mother. Not in spite of her heritage, but because of it. She was a warrior in her own way, very strong, very beautiful, and she won a Githalin Swordanzen’s heart. Not an easy thing to accomplish, believe me.
“You need not purge yourself of Vodanya. Indeed, it would kill you if you tried. It nearly has.” Cupping Jaison’s cheek, it stated, “I gave you enough water so you would not die so soon. But now you must find your own water so you will live to return to your tribe.”
“How?” Jaison rasped, trembling as much from frustration as fatigue. “I have searched but—”
Senigu hushed him with a gentle touch. “Desantiva’s children are gifted in seeing and sensing life. Vodanya’s are gifted in hearing and feeling the world’s whispers.” It repeated, “Know who and what you are. Your strengths and weaknesses. Your gifts and lacks. Accept them. Embrace them.”
Jaison clenched his teeth to keep from screaming or trying to hit Senigu. He quieted his mind and sought out calm. In that stillness, memories of his childhood in Desantiva with his parents, precious few as they were in his long life as a Guardian of Time, drifted into his consciousness. He remembered the days they traveled with his father Hunter. His mother teaching him how to listen for water. And how to call it.
He blinked when he realized the quiet whisper he heard was not only his memory. All but forgetting Senigu’s presence, he stumbled to his feet. He fell several times, but was heedless of that as he collapsed to his knees at the spot the sound came from. He brushed dirt away until a shallow depression of rock was exposed.
He leaned down and put his ear near the cleaned place. Trembling, he closed his eyes in concentration, humming a song he heard his mother hum so many times in his childhood. Water seeped up through cracks in the rock, filling the bowl-like hollow. He greedily scooped water with his hands to drink.
After several handfuls of water and his desperation quelled, he stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He flushed in embarrassment for his lack of respect. “Senigu, forgive me, I—”
“Forgive you? For what?” Jaison followed its gesture toward the tiny pool of water. The man’s eyes went wide as an elegant knife formed in the pool, the image of a firebrand on the hilt. As he put his hand on it, he felt a wash of calm flow over and through him. “You have found yourself at last, young Jaison. Welcome home.”
“‘Jaison’? You are not changing my name?”
“No, Jaison. There is no need. Your name was found by your mother through Vodani traditions.” It smiled as it retook the avian form again
. All the knife signifies is your acceptance of Desantiva’s heart, and His of yours. Now go back to your tribe. Remember what you have learned.
“Senigu!” The Totani paused, poised to take flight. “May I ask…are you male or female? I do not wish to speak of you with disrespect by calling you…‘it.’”
Melodious laughter echoed through his mind as the firebrand took flight. Both. Neither. Does it matter? I love all equally, regardless of form or gender. The same heart beats within us all. But if you must know, ask young Aelia. She knows. She recognized with a child’s clarity and innocence what many adults need relearn.
Jaison watched the Totani fly up, then vanish with a soft clap of thunder. He remained lost in thought as he filled his depleted water skin. Whispering his gratitude for the life-saving water to both Desantiva and Vodanya, he dragged himself to his feet. He staggered to an outcropping of rock to take shelter from the brutal sun and collapsed there in exhaustion.
TAYLIN RAISED A hand to block the wild swing from the pregnant woman. “Storm il’Thandar!” the healer scolded, her hands on her hips. “Get a hold of your temper and relax. You are worrying yourself sick. It is not doing you or your babies any good.”
Green-gold eyes flashed as she turned, holding a finger in front of Taylin’s nose. “You cannot tell me what to do. You are not Alanis!”
Ash stepped between the women, putting his hands on Storm’s arms. “But I am.” He held her upper arms in a firm grip, keeping her from turning away. “I know you are worried about Jaison. We all are. But you need to stop focusing on it.”
“And do what?” she demanded, pulling herself free. “I cannot train. I cannot ride. Izkynder and I have sorted every pebble within a measure of the shelter.”