The Unforeseen One

by Lexy Wolfe

  “It was hard on her and the birth extremely difficult. If not for Dusvet Healer Taylin, she would have died. They all might have.” He braced himself, feeling the other’s building upset. “She is very close to the edge of the blade, Thandar. She is nearly exhausted of any hope or strength.”

  “No. No!” The Totani got to his feet, arms wrapped around his lower ribs as he staggered a few steps toward the door. “She cannot die. Not like that.”

  Seeker jumped to get his shoulder under Thandar before he toppled. “She won’t. Anibu needed to see you through my eyes so she knew he spoke true. He told her we found you.” He forced him to return to the stone bed and sit. “She is afraid for you.”

  “I am not important!” Thandar glared at Seeker. “You dare smile at me?”

  The man crossed his arms. “Of course I dare. You do realize she said the same thing? At almost the same time, too. If she were stronger, they would not be able to restrain her.” He put his hand on Thandar’s shoulder. “I know it will be difficult to return because we are outside of Desantiva so finding a natural portal is unlikely. Having our great father forcing one would be risking further imbalance. But we will find a way to get you back to her. We just may need to wait until the Illaini Dusvet and Skyfire reconnect the last two A’tyrna Ulan to the na’Zhekali tribe so he can turn the tribe’s attention to us.”

  “…The A’tyrna Ulan…?” Thandar stared at him. “I think it best you explain to me what has been happening. Since we have time,” he added with bitterness.

  Forging deeper into the catacomb of tunnels, Nolyn paused to kneel at an intersection, touching the faint dust that had been disturbed by the Trisari’s passage. In a smooth, silent motion, he rose and turned to the left corridor that spiraled upward. Magelight gave way to natural light as he emerged into a cavern in which the roof had caved in long ago. A carpet of greenery occupied the sheltered hollow, spared from the vicious winds without.

  “Trisari Thesrial,” he greeted the figure kneeling before a small, stone statue of a grand tree. He held up his hands when she jumped in fright. “Relax. None of us mean you any harm.”

  She rose, standing a full head taller than the human man. Tall and willowy, she carried herself with aristocratic elegance. She did not meet his eyes. “I always imagined if I were discovered by one of the great mother’s children, there would be more shock or surprise.”

  Nolyn considered his response. “You are the second Trisari I have met.” She looked toward him but kept her gaze averted. “The first was Endarian. It was he who explained the punishment of the Knowing One’s divine servants, but he did not know who the other six remaining were.”

  “I see,” she murmured. “It was foolish of me to react as I had. It was only a matter of time until I was discovered, even in this remote place. Please forgive me my lack of composure.”

  “It was not foolish. Surprising. Unnecessary.” The corner of his mouth turned up in a wry smile when she raised her gaze to meet his, her bewildered astonishment naked on her face. “And understandable. Given this land seems bereft of any living thing but what is within your home, I imagine you are unused to guests.”

  “You speak a level of understatement that borders on lying.” Her eyes were drawn to his pendant. “Why has an Edai Magus left Verusia? They had never strayed from Forenta’s borders…before.” She turned away. “I am a fool again, expecting things to have remained unchanged after all this time.”

  Nolyn snorted softly, settling on a smooth stone bench, watching the flickers of fish in the wide pool. “I feel we are more fools for being so insular. I have seen and learned a great deal more than I intended or expected. As for why?” He shrugged with a sigh. “naïvete, I suppose. The Se’edai Magus saw an opportunity to establish peaceful, diplomatic relations with the warrior folk and I wished to aid in that. So I traveled to Desantiva. Circumstances brought me here.”

  Cloud-white wings unfurled partway as she sat on another bench near him, folding in such a way that kept them from bending painfully on the ground. “I can guess your arrival in the warrior’s territory did not go as you expected.”

  A smile played on his lips. “To say the least. It very nearly cost me my life.” He considered then gave her a brief explanation. “The Desanti have spent the past many, many centuries expecting the Forenten to return to finish the genocide of their people. When I arrived, they saw their fears realized.”

  Thesrial closed her eyes, turning away. “It seems you mortals are destined to echo us divine servants, even though we are banished.”

  Nolyn frowned. “Someone tried to kill you?”

  “Yes. Thandar. I had encountered him during one of his times of grieving when his Githalin’s death approached.”

  The mage stared agape. After many long moments, he found his voice. “But…you share a child…”

  “It was several decades later before she was born, when our mutual animosity faded into understanding and friendship and then became something…more.” Thesrial turned a bemused regard toward the man. “Do you truly believe love at first sight is anything but a naïve tale of fancy?”

  Nolyn considered, then shrugged. “It is better than believing it is nothing but foolish or weak.” Thesrial’s expression fell and she looked away again. “Obviously, Thandar did not kill you.”

  The unspoken question drew a response from the Trisari. “If I had fought back, he would have. But I did not. Less because I was frail from thirst and hunger than I felt I deserved everything he did to me.” A small, sad smile touched her lips. “He had more honor than I would have given the Totani credit for then. When he realized I did not retaliate, he stopped. Demanded I fight back. My refusal infuriated him.”

  She gazed at the sky. “I never sensed fury from another as I had from him at that moment. A physical sensation not unlike the heat from a fire. But there was grief and despair as well. Pain like a deep, festering wound.” She sighed. “Eventually, he brought me here, an empty cave in the unclaimed territory bordering Desantiva. He tended my injuries, brought plants and small animals I raised so I need not go hungry. Years passed between his visits. But each time for the first century, he would strike me whenever he came.”

  “And you would not fight back.”

  Thesrial shook her head. “I would not. But not only because I felt had I deserved his wrath for my kinsmen’s sins. I learned his Githalin was near death, and he seemed to need to lash out at the injustice of the impending loss. As much as he needed solace in his grief.”

  Nolyn followed the lazy circles of a particularly vibrant colored fish. “Zhekali and the curse that plagued her and Avarian’s souls.”

  She nodded. “Yes. But I did not learn that until the time he arrived, but did not strike me. He just stared at me with such resigned despair, it broke my heart. I offered him comfort. When he told me the truth of everything, I did not judge him. How could I? It would have been hypocritical to criticize him for mistakes when my own nearly ended with banishment from the mortals I wished to protect.”

  “Heh. The highborn excel at hypocrisy. That legacy endures.”

  Thesrial arched an eyebrow. “You are not highborn?”

  He bristled, getting to his feet in irritation. “No, I am not. Can’t you tell?”

  “No,” she replied simply. “I cannot. Before the punishment, only the strongest mages could bear the divine mantles. And even then, it slowly killed them, consuming them physically or mentally because it was too much for a mere mortal to endure. Sometimes both physically and mentally.” She stood in front of him, long fingers tracing the line of his jaw, her vivid eyes intense as she studied him. “It does not weather you as harshly.”

  “Wait. Wait, wait, wait.” Nolyn stepped back, frowning. “Edai Magus is a divine mantle? Like Illaini Magus or Voice of the Oracle Stone?”

  The Trisari tilted her head, clearly puzzled. “Of course. The great mother chose you, did She not?”

  “Well, yes. But She had not chosen most of the Edai
Magi on the council.” He explained, “There was no Voice of the Oracle Stone for half a century or Illaini Magus for three centuries. Even when She finally named an Illaini Magus, She did not force any changes.”

  “She would not. Her children have always been willful. I suppose our arrogance would have been echoed in mortals until the point She trusted none to serve Her or Her children. Even when it is for their own good, the children of magic will rebel if they feel they are being forced into anything. They have ever needed to be coaxed, cajoled, or convinced it was their idea from the start.”

  Nolyn opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again with a grunt, crossing his arms. “Regardless, I have no mark like Ash or anyone else. Poor Terrence has three of the damned things.”

  “You don’t…” Thesrial paused, then held her hand out to him in silence. He hesitated before giving his right hand to her, letting her lead him to the fountain that fed the pool. He watched when she caught a handful of water, then dribbled it on the back. He blinked, then squinted.

  Across the back of his hand, a dim trefoil knot intertwined with a circle appeared then faded again as the water ran away. “What the hell was that?”

  “That,” she stated, “is the Triquetra of the Edai. The three energies of creation entwined by knowledge.” She headed into the halls. “I suppose there are others who She had not chosen to serve on the mage council. She would conceal the mark to inhibit judgments of inferiority that mages are prone to.” She paused at the threshold, looking over her shoulder. “Would you consider telling me of how you encountered my twin brother?”

  Nolyn blinked several times before he realized she waited for his answer. “Yes, of course. I’m sure he will be delighted to see you again when we return to Forenta.” He frowned but did not comment on the odd, sad reluctance in her expression as they headed back to the others.

  SUNLIGHT STREAMED THROUGH the faceted glass ceiling of the serene room within the cavern complex home of Thesrial and Nachalya. A multitude of minute rainbows scattered across the floor and walls, some reflected on the surface of a spring-fed pool. A tiny tree grew on a small island in the middle the pool. A small waterfall on the far wall trickled peacefully.

  Seated on a rug in the shadowed area of the room, Terrence sat with his legs crossed and eyes closed. Only the barest hint of his emotions touched his voice when he spoke. “Why are you watching me like that? Have I sprouted some unnatural growth?”

  Nachalya entered from the hall as quiet as a gentle breeze. “You have sprouted nothing that I can see.” She knelt on the floor near him, her hands resting on her lap. “I am watching because I am curious.”

  He opened his eyes to regard her, his irritation muted by puzzlement. “Why are you curious?”

  She shrugged. “You and your companions are the first mortals I have ever seen. The only ones I knew were memories from Mother or Father.” Her anchor stone, now wrapped in braided strands of copper, gold and silver wire and hanging as a pendant from her neck, caught the light as she touched it lightly. “I still feel you in my heart.”

  Terrence exhaled, returning to his meditative posture. “Well, you do not need to skulk around me. If you want to watch me, just do so.”

  Silent for several minutes, Nachalya murmured, “You and your companions share similar emotions. You are angry. And afraid. And frustrated. But your emotions are much stronger.” He looked at her again. “I understand those feelings. I have sensed them from Mother and Father many times. But there are things you feel that I do not understand. More subtle. Things I never felt from my parents.”

  He closed his eyes. “Sorry. I’m not very good with emotions. I’m Forentan, not Desanti. You should probably talk to Seeker.” He looked at her when she touched his chin with the tip of her fingers lightly. “What?”

  “How would it help me to ask him for aid understanding your emotions if you are the one feeling them?”

  Terrence sighed, his position shifting as he gave up on meditating. “A legitimate question. Forgive me, Nachalya. I should not be so dismissive of you.” A small smile curled his lips as he drew a knee up and rested his arm on it, leaning on his other hand. “Why do you look so quizzical?”

  “I do not understand why you are being kind to me.”

  His smile began to fade. “Why wouldn’t I be? Especially in your home.”

  Her expression remained passive, with only her curiosity. “Because I am an abomination.”

  Terrence sat bolt upright. “What? Who called you that?”

  “Mother and Father,” Nachalya replied.

  He could not help but stare at her in horror. “Your parents call you an abomination? Don’t they care about you at all?”

  She frowned in confusion. “They love me dearly, but I am halfborn. A child of a Totani and a Trisari. Others would despise me if they knew about me. That is why I wasn’t supposed to ever leave.” She lowered her gaze. “But I had to find help for Father. And I found you.”

  With a sigh, Terrence looked away. “I have not been much help to anyone.” He met her eyes when she touched his chin again.

  “You have given Father a reason not to give up. You gave Mother hope she will not lose him.”

  “But Thandar must be brought to Storm and we have no way to get there. He says there are many steep mountains between here and Desantiva’s borders alone that would take weeks if not months for us to cross. And then we would have to find a place where Seeker or I as Githalin could open a gate to the Rumblelands.” He clasped her hand, pulling it away. “It will be too late for either of them. It may be too late now.”

  “But can’t you create portals, too?” she asked, surprise in her tones.

  “Of course not.” He glared, face unaccountably flushed with shame. “I’m only a mortal. Portals are only a divine ability.”

  “Who told you that? I know it is rare, because Mother says mortals tend to obsess over minutia instead of studying as hard as they can to learn how to become stronger. She and Father say if not for mortals, they would not be able to get to this realm easily.” She crossed her arms. “He said two have been creating portals in this era. How could you not know about them?”

  Terrence frowned. “Storm and Ash are not normal mortals. He is descended from Trisari and she is both descended from a Totani and had once been one herself. They still have to work together to manage it. Storm can’t because she’s too weak.”

  “Father says she was a human first.” She blushed and averted her eyes. “Though he also said I was not supposed to tell anyone.”

  “I know that already. She told us.” He got to his feet and walked toward the archway. Bitterness filled his voice. “And no, just because I once was their seventh child in a former incarnation, I am not their descendant now. I was born a normal human. A Forentan only.”

  “But you want to be their child.” Her simple words brought him to an abrupt stop. He stiffened when she put her hands on his back. “I would not need this connection between us to know that.”

  Terrence turned around, taking a step away from her. “It is a stupid, naïve, and impossible wish. You can’t change a lyon’s spots.”

  “But you are a mage. You must be powerful to bear the Knowing One’s mark. She does not abide weakness. Mother told me. Don’t you know your own fabric well enough to alter yourself?”

  He flushed. “Knowing myself doesn’t help. I was born Forentan, not Desanti. I don’t know their people very well at all. Certainly not enough to turn myself into one.”

  “But you were a halfborn in another life. Father told me stories about Tristan. He said the Raging One’s grief in losing him was soothed only by the chaos he caused when he saved his territory from collapse.” As she stepped toward him with her hands held up, he stepped back until he ran into the wall. “Perhaps you need help remembering?”

  “Wait,” Terrence protested. “What are you doing? Don’t—” As her hands touched the sides of his face, he stiffened. Tears rolled down his cheeks after severa
l minutes, eyes unfocused. “I see…I see now.” After several more minutes of concentration, his back arched and a cry of agonizing pain ripped from his throat as he fell to his knees.

  NOLYN AND SEEKER looked up sharply as Terrence’s cry echoed through the cavernous home. “The hell was that?” the mage asked as the Swordanzen slammed the weapons he had been cleaning away.

  The Totani roused, his form melting to humanoid, his eyes wide with horror and utter despair. “No,” he begged no one, struggling to get up. “No! Not again...I know that cry. I could never forget...”

  Thesrial went to her mate, trying to hold him back from hurting himself. “Thandar, stop! You will do more harm to yourself.” She looked to the two human men. “Go. Quickly! I will take care of him.” They bolted down the hallway.

  Lyra?”

  Marcus looked up from writing in his journal at Storm’s voice and quickly closed the book, moving to the woman’s side. “She is napping. She asked me to help you if you needed anything.”

  A tired smile touched Storm’s lips. “She needs the rest. She has done nothing but worry since…” Both smile and words faded and she turned her face away.

  “Master Nolyn says the best servants worry the most about everyone else and forget all about themselves.” He filled a cup with water, holding it ready when Storm looked at him. “It took Healer Taylin ten minutes to convince her to get some rest.”

  Storm took a small sip, more for him than for any thirst. “Is that all? She is getting better at dislodging Lyra from her stubbornness. I am glad.”

  “I am sure Dusvet Skyfire would be happy, too. I think.” He grimaed. “I have gotten to know Star and Seeker and the others, but he is very confusing. I do not really understand him at all.”

  “He is his own person, as much as you are yours.” Storm paused, her breathing growing labored. “In time…I hope you will see.”