The Crystal Warrior

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The Crystal Warrior Page 25

by Lori Hyrup


  Zephyron, now in human form, joined her. She could never tell if his clothes came as part of the transformation or not. When she asked about it before, he had grinned and said, “Magic.”

  Their camp remained simple—two thin bedrolls, a small fire, and a pot for tea. They still had a bit of the tea they had acquired from White Bluff. Their food came from whatever Zephyron caught. He attributed his uncanny ability to find food to his tigron nose. They finished the last of a ground rover that was Zephyron’s most recent triumph. The large rodent’s layer of fat served to flavor the meat without needing any additional spices. Though remarkably tasty, Aria did little more than push her food about her plate. She had not had much of an appetite since leaving the city. The warm tea, however, brought comfort. She drank plenty, savoring the mild sweetness of the added honey and hoping the beverage would help her relax.

  Though full into spring, the night air still held a bit of a chill. Aria gazed over the fire at the white-haired Guardian. He had been right. The things she had learned from both him and Kharra had changed the way she viewed the world. Most of the people of Tanoria would have trouble accepting such a new perspective. She found herself wondering what other parts of the world might be like: the people, the animals, the food, the clothing. She’d learned about Kharra and Zephyron’s own battle against an enemy whose goal was to destroy entire civilizations.

  Aria stirred her tea with a stick of cinnamon, keeping her eyes and thoughts on Zephyron. The blue and white colors swirled about him again, subtle and conforming to the contours of his body but noticeable.

  “According to the information Pleria provided,” he said as he poked the fire with a short branch, “we should be nearing the south end of the Urshaw Caverns. I suspect we’ll reach the entrance early tomorrow.”

  He looked up when Aria did not respond. The firelight caught his sparkling blue eyes, and the curiosity dancing behind them was evident. “What is it?”

  Aria blinked. “What? Nothing.”

  Zephyron smirked and sat down on his bedroll. He crossed his legs and draped his hands over his knees. “Nothing indeed. You’ve been staring at me on and off for the past week. What do you see?”

  She studied him a bit more, biting the inside of her lip. “Ever since the fight, I’ve been seeing colors around people. At first I only saw them once in a while, so I thought they were some sort of trick of the light, but I’ve been seeing them more often lately. I don’t know what they mean. I fear it’s part of the process of losing my sanity.”

  It was Zephyron’s turn to study her. He poked at the fire again. “What do you feel when they appear?”

  Aria furrowed her brow and glanced into her cup. Taking a sip of her tea, she gave the question thought. She did not feel sad or happy or angry or anything when she saw them. They were just colors. Then it dawned on her. She looked up at Zephyron. “I had not thought about it before. Now that I think about it, I…” She struggled with putting it into words. “I’m not entirely sure, but when I see the colors, it is like I am seeing into the person’s intent or their purpose. I’m not sure how else to describe it. It is as if a voice is whispering something to me about that person.”

  Zephyron smiled, but it was the type of smile that said he held a secret that she did not. She hated it when he did that. Here she was, eighty-five years old with sixty-seven years of experience as a kruusta. She had already outlived many people she had known over the years, and she was used to others deferring to her wisdom and judgment. Yet she often felt like an uneducated child around the Guardian. He never gloated about his knowledge, but his extensive experience allowed him to perceive what others did not understand. It annoyed her to discover how much she did not actually know. One thing that had surprised Aria, however, was that Kharra was only twenty-two years old. Yet Zephyron deferred to her quite often.

  “What do you know of your family history?”

  Aria frowned. “Not much at all. My mother died before my first naming day. My father, a kruusta himself, left me with his sister, Erita, and her family so he could continue his duties. He died when I was three. I can’t even recall what he looked like. Some of my earliest memories are of my aunt telling me stories about my mother.

  “Aunt Erita said she carried a pair of swords like she was some sort of fighter, but she was certain my mother wasn’t a kruusta, didn’t belong to the Order of the Talon nor any other type of militia. My aunt often mentioned how beautiful my mother was and how she loved her accent.”

  “Accent?” asked Zephyron.

  Aria shrugged. “There are a number of dialects around Tanoria. You and Kharra both have them, though they’re not too pronounced.”

  “I didn’t even realize I had one.”

  Aria chuckled. “I travel from town to town around Tanoria. I don’t generally give them much thought.”

  “So,” said Zephyron, “about your story?”

  With a nod Aria sipped her tea and continued. “Like most people, my dad’s family feared kruustas, him included. Aunt Erita tried to hide it from me. She tried to keep her words about my father positive, but every once in a while, she’d mention how she didn’t understand how my mother could fall in love with him, a kruusta.

  “The order came for me when I turned five, and I’ve been with them ever since. I had a brother, Delf, whose mother was different than my own. He was two years older than me and raised by his mother. According to him, he was the result of a one-night stand, but my father made sure Delf was provided for. My brother knew little of our father and nothing of my mother.”

  Thinking of her brother brought a smile to Aria’s face. They had not grown up together, but they had become friends as they got older. He had joined the Order of the Talon when he had come of age, and their paths had crossed many times over the years. He had been a good swordsman, and their reunions had involved sparring matches as a means of showing each other how much they had improved. He had never resented not being chosen by the Order of the Shard. In fact he had respected their father’s duties and hers. Most importantly, he had never shown fear around Aria.

  “Why do you ask?” she inquired.

  “Hm.” Zephyron knuckled his head and actually blushed, though the firelight concealed it. “Your ability reminds me of someone I used to know.” He tossed the stick into the fire. A boyish grin crossed his face, and his eyes twinkled as he dredged up the memory. “She was one of Avesa’s personal bodyguards.”

  “Who was Avesa?”

  “Avesa il Marquin, Kharra’s mother. She was the leader of the Zumai before the war began over a hundred years ago and throughout its duration. I was her second-in-command back then, before I became a Guardian. Avesa had three bodyguards, two men and a woman, all Sauru swordsaints. The woman’s name was Dalia. One of her abilities was called heart seeking, the ability to understand a person’s heart by reading the colors it gave off. When she was not on duty, we used to sit someplace overlooking an area where people gathered. She would tell me what she viewed. She said my colors were blue and white, the heart of a Guardian. I never thought she meant literally. A handy ability for a bodyguard, she instantly knew whether or not a person interacting with her charge meant harm.”

  “You were friends with her, then?” Aria asked.

  “I, uh,”—he blushed further—“courted her for a while. It was only for a short while though. We had a mutual separation and remained friends. She ended up marrying Corigan, one of the other bodyguards and had a beautiful daughter by him.”

  Aria found herself beaming through tears threatening to release. She had never cried so much as she had since meeting Kharra and Zephyron.

  “What’s wrong?” Zephyron asked.

  Aria responded with a half chuckle and said, “I’m feeling oddly sentimental. I’m just really happy that I’m not going crazy. And for the record, your colors are still blue and white.”

  Zephyron smiled at her. “You’re not losing your sanity. You are manifesting a leyoen ability. I find it odd, t
hough, that you are only now beginning to manifest it. Usually a person gifted with leyoen shows signs of their gift during their teens. If I recall correctly, Dalia could call upon or dismiss her ability at will. If the colors bother you, I bet you can do the same.”

  Aria nodded as she lifted her left hand in front of the firelight. She had been avoiding looking at the parts of her that had crystallized, but ignoring the problem would not make it go away. The light from the fire, though distorted, illuminated through her iridescent skin. She turned her hand over and looked at her palm. She flexed and extended her fingers. They moved and felt like they always had. Her tactile sense had not changed, though the area was much more resistant to pain.

  After a period of silence, Zephyron said, “We didn’t come across you randomly.”

  Aria looked up from her hand. “What do you mean?”

  The Guardian pursed his lips. “Kharra was drawn to you.” Aria raised an eyebrow, which Zephyron acknowledged with a nod. “First it was dreams. They were never super clear or very complete, but they always left specific impressions with her when she awoke. She knew she had to come to Tanoria to find you even though I’d never even told her about this land’s existence. Once we arrived here, she chose a route that led us straight to you rather than to Ei’ars’anu. When I asked her about it, she said she was drawn to you, but she didn’t know why.”

  “So Kharra was drawn to my leyoen? I thought she said she couldn’t sense it.”

  Zephyron shrugged. “I don’t think it was your leyoen she was drawn to, but it was something about you. Kharra taps in to powers and instincts I don’t even think she realizes she has. She, along with her twin sister, Jayde, are the most powerful Zumai I’ve ever met. Their mother was powerful, but that built up over two centuries. The twins are only in their early twenties.”

  “Kharra mentioned her sister once in passing but not much about her.”

  “They didn’t grow up together. I didn’t even know Jayde was still alive until about four years ago, but they were reunited and took to each other very quickly. Jayde’s nearly as powerful as Kharra, though her strongest abilities manifested differently.”

  Aria nodded. For several moments she went back to inspecting her hand as she silently processed Zephyron’s information. Still looking at her hand, she asked, “Can I ask you something personal?”

  “Certainly,” Zephyron responded.

  “What is the relationship between you and Kharra?”

  Zephyron sat in silence for a few moments.

  “I’m sorry if I’ve asked too much,” Aria said, looking up from her hand.

  “No, it isn’t that.” Zephyron stared into the flames with a crooked smile on his face. His normally strong facial features suddenly looked soft and gentle. “In some ways our relationship is simple; in others, complicated.” He grabbed his stick and began poking the embers once again. “Anyone who is influenced by Mattekan’s life force, be they leyoen-gifted, kruusta, or Guardian, live exceptionally long lives compared to those of couren. I am one hundred sixty-one years old, but I was a teenager when I first met Kharra’s mother.

  “After I left my own people, I had no idea what I intended to do or where I planned to go. I wandered about for a while without much of a purpose, getting myself into constant trouble. An odd series of events landed me in front of the Lady Avesa. She had just become the leader of the Zumai and the Queen of Aerous. I, on the other hand, was just a scrawny waif back then, but she seemed to think I had some sort of potential. She took me in, gave me a home, and provided me with an education. We became good friends—family, really. There was a time when I became infatuated with her, but that passed quickly.

  “In our third decade of war, I was called to become a Guardian. Though she would be losing her lieutenant, Avesa gave me her blessing, and so I left.

  “A Guardian’s priority supersedes that of individual people and their kingdoms. Guardians serve Mattekan as a whole, and they are supposed to avoid becoming personally involved with humans. New Guardians go to Xi’ari’asi and remain there for several years while they learn about their new role, abilities, and responsibilities. So as Aerous fought a slowly losing war, I was sequestered away from the world.

  “In my second year of training, I encountered a Guardian named Xeis. He had the ability to glimpse through time, and from him, prophecies came to be. Xeis had a message for me. So I went to him and stepped into his waters. I beheld images I didn’t understand at the time. They were of a child.”

  “Excuse me,” said Aria, “what do you mean by ‘stepped into his waters’?”

  “Oh, sorry, Xeis was a water elemental.”

  “I don’t understand. What’s a water elemental?”

  “Hmm, you’ve never heard of an elemental?”

  Aria shook her head.

  “Interesting. They’re pretty rare, but most people have at least heard of them.”

  “No, sorry,” said Aria.

  “No worries. Elementals are beings, sentient beings, whose entire body, for lack of a better term, is made up of a specific element.”

  “So Xeis was a being made up entirely of water?”

  Zephyron nodded. “Indeed.”

  “And he was a Guardian,” stated Aria.

  “He was. A very old one, in fact. He had the ability to see through time, which to humans like us, seemed like prophecy. When one of us literally stepped into his waters, we were able to communicate with him, and he could show us what he saw.”

  “That’s both bizarre and fascinating at the same time.”

  Zephyron chuckled. “I’ve lost perspective on normal or bizarre a long time ago. In any case, a week after I received the visions, something happened that had never happened before in the history of the world. Guardians turned against other Guardians and betrayed Mattekan itself. We call them the Betrayers. One of the first things they did was destroy Xeis, so we wouldn’t have any more prophecies.”

  “Wait, Guardians can do that?” asked Aria. “I thought you all were above that type of thing.”

  Zephyron frowned. “To be honest, so did I…back then at least. I was still new to the calling and still enamored by the older Guardians.”

  “But why betray other Guardians?” asked Aria. “Why betray Mattekan? Isn’t that who gives them their power?”

  “Mattekan calls us, imbues us with a part of its essence, and communicates with us, but becoming a Guardians doesn’t magically make us better people. We’re still affected by events of the world. We still experience the same types of emotions we felt before our calling.”

  Zephyron sighed and ran his fingers over the top of his head. “The Betrayers fell back on human desires. They possessed power, and they wanted to exert that power over other people. They didn’t want to serve the greater good of the world; they just wanted to serve themselves.”

  “That’s horrible,” said Aria, “but not all that different from what’s happening here in Tanoria.”

  Zephyron nodded in agreement. “The war itself continued for sixty-six more years. Everyone with leyoen was either killed or made into a type of slave we call the Vadari. Their abilities are controlled by collars placed around their necks.” Zephyron paused, his eyes fixated on the weaving flames.

  He took a deep breath and continued. “Their leader was, and still is, a swordsmaster named Xareen. She is from the Toloi tribe, the People of the Dark. She was also my teacher after I’d been called. She wanted me to join her.”

  “Clearly you didn’t.”

  “No. I tried to talk her away from her path and failed. It still haunts me.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Aria.

  “Don’t be. That was a long time ago.” Zephyron sighed. “The end came eighteen years ago. Avesa, who had fought continuously for one hundred thirteen years, gathered as many of her remaining people as possible and attempted to flee Kelani clutches. She wanted to take the survivors into hiding so her people would not be completely annihilated. Her plan worked, and they esc
aped.”

  Aria found herself leaning forward, hanging on each word of his story. “So what happened? What does this have to do with Kharra?” she asked.

  “The event I had seen in my vision was coming to pass at that very moment. Avesa’s group was ambushed. They had been betrayed by the person who had replaced me as her second-in-command, her nephew Rasic. The ambushers slaughtered the adults and took the children. One child, however, I found before they did. I took her and fled. I took her where no Kelani would be able to find her. We went south across the Serpent Spine Mountains to Marimon, a place with people who had never heard of Guardians, leyoen, Kelani, or Aerous. In some ways, Marimon is similar to Tanoria in its isolation.

  “I found Kharra a foster family who would raise her well. I visited as often as my duties allowed me and taught her about her abilities and her heritage. I watched her grow. She has a way of seeing the goodness in the world where I’ve seen only blood and death.”

  Wetness dotted Zephyron’s cheeks.

  “And now?” Aria asked with sadness in her own heart, fearful she already knew the answer.

  Zephyron looked up at her with such tender vulnerability Aria’s heart ached.

  Aria watched him, seeing the blue and white colors swirling. She realized the swirling happened in a predictable pattern and that the pattern had changed since they had started speaking about Kharra. “Did you fall in love with her?” Aria asked softly, fighting to keep the ache she felt from coming out.

  Zephyron shrugged. “I’m not sure. I don’t know what it is I feel for her. I mean I love her, of course. I’d give my life to protect her. But she’s so young, and Guardians aren’t supposed to fall in love.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it could pull our attention away from our responsibilities.”

  “How is that different from any profession?”

  Zephyron scratched his chin. “A Guardian’s first duty is to Mattekan. How can we do that if we have loved ones who also must come first?”

 

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