by Davis Ashura
Jessira lifted an eyebrow in both question and challenge toward Serena. “And you?”
“I’m guessing she wishes to train with us as well,” Rukh said. He lifted an eyebrow in an expression identical to Jessira’s, but that was where the similarity between the two of them ended.
Rather than warm but deadly, Rukh had always struck Serena as simply deadly. He possessed a strange mixture of a bared blade and a hammer. Strength, courage, and indomitable will poured off him, but also danger. Handle his cutting edge incorrectly and suffer the consequences. Treat him with courtesy, and no greater ally could be found.
“Has the cat stolen your tongue?” Jessira teased, and Serena snapped out of her reverie.
“It’s been a long time, but yes, I came here to train, too,” Serena answered.
“You use a jian, correct?” Jessira asked.
Serena nodded. “Is that a problem?”
“No. We have a training sword that should suit you.” Jessira went into the cabin and returned with a wooden blade, black in color and similar in shape, size, and heft to a jian.
Serena accepted the practice sword with a nod of thanks and gave it a few swings to test its balance.
“Come with me,” Jessira said.
Serena followed her to a flat area about twenty feet in diameter and ringed with stones. She was about to step within the circle, but Jessira held her back.
“When we enter the training circle, we fight,” Jessira said. “The rules within it are simple. A touch is a loss. A fall is a loss. Leaving the circle is a loss. Understood?”
Serena nodded. Only then did they enter the training ring. She took a moment to study the other woman’s stance and the angle of her blade.
Jessira held a practice sword shaped like a katana but with a simple crossguard rather than a tsuba. She lifted it to middle guard.
Serena brought her weapon up. “Ready.”
Jessira nodded. “Begin.”
Serena sent an exploratory thrust. Jessira easily blocked it. Serena tested with a diagonal slash, and it was effortlessly parried. A combination of an overhand swing, a horizontal cut, and a thrust were all smoothly shunted aside. Another combination came no closer. Jessira had barely shifted her feet, and Serena disengaged with a frown.
She hadn’t practiced with the sword since coming to Arylyn, but even at her worst Isha couldn’t have turned her sword aside with such ease. She flicked her gaze up and down Jessira’s posture and remembered the stories about what had happened in Australia. About how Rukh and Jessira had run through eight mahavans like an axe slicing saplings. Maybe those stories hadn’t been an exaggeration.
Serena decided on a different approach. She didn’t attack. Instead, she allowed Jessira to act as the aggressor. Serena would then counter.
She didn’t have long to wait.
Jessira’s sword whipped forward, whistling as it sliced the air. Serena desperately threw herself aside. Before she could regain her composure, she felt Jessira’s blade land against her shoulder.
Serena rubbed the area of impact, more out of embarrassment than pain. She’d hardly seen Jessira’s sword move. One instant the woman had been still, the next, a cobra-strike of motion.
They reset and went at it again. Once again, Serena came no closer to landing a strike. Jessira smoothly slipped the attacks, calm and unreachable. They kept on, and Serena quickly lost track of how many times Jessira landed a touch, pushed her out of the ring, or tripped her to the ground. The losses left Serena bruised and humiliated. It felt like she’d never before held a blade.
Worst of all, Jessira offered a steady commentary of corrections in position, form, or technique while they fought. She taught, and still managed to effortlessly defeat Serena over and over again.
“Break,” Jessira called after Serena’s latest trouncing. “Wait here.” She stepped out of the circle and went inside the cabin.
Serena’s shoulders slumped, and she shuffled to the porch before collapsing upon the steps. Sweat dripped off her, making her shirt stick to her skin. She let the sparring blade fall from her tired fingers.
“Break,” Rukh called out shortly thereafter as well.
He and William had been sparring in a nearby training square, but Serena hadn't been able to pay them any attention, not with her own struggles. She watched William trudge toward her, breathing every bit as heavily as she was.
“Any touches?” she asked.
“Against him?” William shook his head. “No.” He collapsed next to Serena. “Against me? More times than I can count.”
Jessira returned with four mugs of water and passed them out. Of course, she and Rukh didn’t look like they needed any. Only a thin sheen of perspiration beaded their foreheads.
“Thank you,” William said, sounding grateful.
“How can you fight like that and not be tired?” Serena asked them.
“We’ve had far more practice at this than you,” Rukh said.
“That, and you’re too fast and too strong,” William said.
“Skill can overcome those advantages as well,” Rukh said.
William sighed. “I doubt I’ll ever have your level of skill, either.”
“Maybe not,” Jessira said, “but continue training with us and you’ll have more skill than anyone else.”
Serena flicked her gaze from Rukh to Jessira, and a question lingered in her mind. “Which one of you is better?” she finally asked.
“Rukh,” Jessira answered without hesitation. “If you ever see him fight with full effort, pity his opponent.”
“You mean this wasn’t him fighting with full effort?” William sounded aghast.
Rukh grinned, which was answer enough.
Serena’s stomach lurched when Blue Sky Dreamer dropped into the trough of a wave. An instant later, her insides jellied when the boat’s prow bit into the crest of the next wave on the line. On they went, smashing and slicing across the waters of the Pacific as they raced northward.
The sun shone brightly, the wind rushed true, and salty spray glistened like a million rainbows in Blue Sky Dreamer’s wake.
A perfect day for sailing, and Serena whooped as her heart bubbled with joy.
They rose and fell over another wave, and Selene shouted in delight as well. She crouched in the prow, ready to trim the sail, while wearing a grin as wide as a banana laid lengthwise.
William stood close by, his face every bit as joyous as Selene’s. They’d christened Blue Sky Dreamer a few days back, but today marked the first time they’d actually taken her out for an extended trip. It would also be William’s first time piloting the dhow, and based on his laughter, he already loved sailing.
Serena smiled. “Do you want to take the tiller?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” William replied.
“Make sure to keep Arylyn’s western shore to starboard,” Serena advised. “It’ll make it easier to learn how to steer if you have a steady landmark.” Only then did she slide out of the helmsman’s seat, retaining hold of the tiller until William had control of it. “Watch the tell-tales,” she advised. “You have to trim the sail depending on which way they shift.”
“You want us to keep going straight?” he asked.
“I want us going north,” she corrected. “Always know the direction you’re heading.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” William said.
“No problem, Blackbeard,” Serena told him drily. “In a few miles we’ll swing east. Right now, that’s starboard. Then we’ll come around south.” She glanced at the tell-tales. They were shifting. “Wind’s veering,” she said. “Bring the helm a-starboard,” she told William. “Sheet in, Selene.”
“How did you know what to do?” William asked.
Serena pointed to the tell-tale. “The wind veered, so we had to alter course and trim the sails to keep from luffing.”
“Ack!” Selene cried out when a curl of spray caught her in the face. A moment later she was laughing again.
“I
love seeing her happy,” William said. “It’s a good thing.”
“Yes, it is,” Serena said with a smile of agreement.
“So, to turn to starboard, I actually move the tiller to port?”
“That’s right. Port your helm a little, and watch the leading edge of the sail.”
William followed her advice, and the bow came around. The motion of the deck changed. Selene flicked an anxious glance at the sail, looked back at Serena and William, and grasped a cleat more tightly.
Serena pointed. “See how the sail quivers and flutters?”
William nodded.
“Now watch. Bring the helm starboard. The sail should draw the wind.”
William did as instructed, his face tight with concentration. His eyes shifted from the sail to the deck to the waves, and a moment later, he broke into a grin. “She moves easier,” he noted. “More graceful, too.”
Serena smiled, pleased at how quickly he was learning.
William’s brow furrowed. “Is it me, or is the tell-tale shifting clockwise? Isn’t that called veering?”
Serena looked at the masthead. The tell-tale was actually shifting counter-clockwise. It was backing, not veering. She was about to correct William just as he winked at her. Then, with a fiendish grin, he put the tiller over, juking the dhow into the path of an oncoming wave. Serena had time to squawk before a wave swept over the hull and engulfed her.
William guffawed as he put the tiller over to ease the sails.
“You jackass!” Serena yelled at him. Water drenched her, streaming down her face and into her mouth.
“You should have seen your face,” William gasped, barely able to breathe.
“Or heard your shriek,” Selene cackled.
Serena flicked her gaze from one to the other. “Oh, shut up,” she said, but a smile tugged at her lips.
“I want to go faster!” Selene shouted.
Serena called out trim changes to Selene, and explained to William what adjustments to make with the tiller.
The sail boomed like a bass drum, and they raced east, toward Arylyn.
Serena laughed with delight, holding her arms out to the sides and riding the rolling deck with only the balance of her legs. A wild stallion couldn’t have been as untamed. The wind gusted against her face. It soon dried her soaked hair and clothing. Salty spray from by their passage sounded like a rushing cascade.
The shore rushed closer, and Serena called out more orders. “Sheet out,” she said to Selene, closely watching the tell-tales. “Hold it there.”
William had anticipated her orders and already shifted the tiller. The dhow slowed as they swung northwest.
They continued in the same direction for an hour, and they all felt it when they punched through the border of Arylyn’s saha’asra.
“Ugh!” Selene said.
“Don’t you have a nomasra?” William asked her.
“Yeah, but it’s not the same.”
Serena felt the same way. The nomasra the Village Council had loaned her contained only a thimbleful of lorasra in comparison to the one she’d used in Cincinnati.
“I want to go back,” Serena said. “Can you get us there?” she asked William.
William nodded and called out orders. A shift to the tiller and they swept a long turn to starboard, now on a southeasterly heading. “Sheet in to port,” he said to Selene. “A little more.”
The sail luffed, and the bow bit into a wave. The dhow shuddered and slowed.
“Too far?” William asked.
Serena nodded. “You should have left the sheet out.”
She called orders out to Selene, and seconds later the sail filled again and Blue Sky Dreamer leapt forward. She picked up speed, and the wind of their passage blew in their faces. Serena’s eyes teared. Salt spray splashed into her face, and she blinked to clear her sight.
An idea occurred to her, and she startled at its simplicity. Serena sourced her lorethasra, and from a braid of Air, Earth, and Water she formed dark, protective lenses that floated in front of her eyes. There. Sunglasses. Why hadn’t she ever thought of it before?
William noticed her weave and copied her design.
They grinned at each other as Blue Sky Dreamer raced on a southeasterly heading.
William called out an order, and the boat shifted farther to port. They headed east now, directly toward Lilith. All of them breathed with relief when they re-entered Arylyn’s saha’asra.
“You’re getting better,” Serena noted in approval.
“Still lots to learn, though,” William said. “Sailing, learning to fight with Elements, and mastering the sword like Rukh.”
“It’s going to take a few years, isn’t it?” Serena said.
William nodded, and she wondered what their lives would be like then.
“Helm a-port, William,” Serena called. “Let’s beat to the west and get some sea room before we run in to Lilith.”
Selene whooped as the dhow swung around on a tight turn.
A DREAM OF DOOM
March 1989
* * *
William quickly bussed the table at Garrett Rafe’s café, where he and Serena had just eaten lunch. The rough-hewn furniture appeared black in the dim lighting, and the tabletop, hurricane lamps, and scattered wall sconces did little to banish the gloom. For whatever reason, Garrett liked to keep his restaurant dark. He claimed it improved the ambiance.
William disagreed. He thought the dimness gave the restaurant a cellar-like atmosphere. Ultimately though, it didn’t matter since the wonderful food made up for any problems in lighting or mood. He grunted in satisfaction when he finished cleaning the table. He gathered the dishes, eased past the other couples still eating their meals, and traced his way to the kitchen, where he delivered the dirty plates and glasses to Serena. She stood in front of a sink full of soapy water, and he deposited the dishes with her before returning to their table to finish sweeping up.
Since money didn’t exist on Arylyn, everything was paid for with work. Those who ran restaurants expected their customers to bus their own tables and clean their own dishes. Such a system wouldn’t have worked in the Far Beyond, but here it did.
On Arylyn, no one griped about doing all the work and getting nothing out of it. William’s work as a journeyman raha’asra was the creation of lorasra while for Serena it was growing crops. No one was lazy enough—or stupid enough—to take advantage of the generosity of their neighbors and friends.
After he finished sweeping, William dumped the trash—nothing more than particles of food—into the compost heap out back. By then Serena had finished the dishes, and William helped her dry them with a quick burst of Air and Fire. A few minutes later they were done.
As a way of extra thanks, Garrett offered each of them a tankard of lemonade. They took their drinks outside, where the café opened out onto the Village Green.
During the past year, William and Serena had lunch or dinner together about once a week. Most times Selene, Lien, or someone else joined them, but today it was just the two of them, their first meal alone together in months. In fact, other than when they trained or sailed Blue Sky Dreamer, they didn’t spend much time together any more. Mostly because William’s days were entirely taken up with work.
For the past year, he’d given every spare moment he had to training with Rukh, Ward, or the other raha’asras. The only way to save Travail and Fiona was to fully commit to his studies. He couldn’t allow any weaknesses or interferences.
As a result, he’d pulled away from Serena. She was too distracting. Whenever she was around, he found himself wondering what they really meant to each other, a question that inevitably sidetracked his training.
As he figured matters, after they rescued Fiona and Travail, maybe then he and Serena could sit down and figure out what they wanted from each other. Assuming she was actually interested in him as anything other than a friend. After all, during the past year Serena’s attitude towards him had also changed, becoming friend
ly, but definitely more businesslike.
William mentally shrugged. Perhaps it was for the best.
He led Serena to a bench at the edge of the Village Green. It overlooked the bridges and stairs linking Lilith’s many terraces, as well as the soaring rainbows and waterfalls thundering down in a rush of sound and a rising mist. With the sun still high, all of Lilith shimmered in a glory of light and vibrant colors while in the distance, the wide, blue waters of the Pacific merged with sky.
The beauty of Arylyn still left William in awe. In many ways he still couldn’t believe this was his home. “I don’t want to ever get used to this,” he said.
“I don’t think anyone can,” Serena replied.
William took a sip of his drink and sighed in appreciation. He didn’t know what Garrett did to his lemons, but William had never had lemonade so fine in his entire life. It was a perfect drink with which to take in Lilith’s beauty. “What do you think Travail and Fiona will say when they see this place?”
Serena shook her head. “I have no idea.”
“Travail will probably talk about how pretty it is,” William said with a fond chuckle. “How it makes manifest the inalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”
“Why would he quote the Declaration of Independence?”
“Are you joking?” William asked. “Travail loves the Declaration of Independence, and as soon as he gets done quoting it, he’ll probably run off to somewhere isolated.”
Serena laughed. “At least he’ll be free,” she said, “but if he’s like me, he’ll find out that the finest form of freedom is in service to others.”
“Service unto others,” William said, quoting St. Francis’ school motto.
Serena smiled. “I’d forgotten that. And here I was thinking it was something I came up with.”
William smiled with her, but memories of Travail and realization of what was needed stole away his humor. “I’m almost ready to go back,” he said.
Serena frowned. “Are you sure?” she asked. “You’ve only been training for a year and a half.”
“What do you think?” William asked. “You’ve been the one teaching me to fight like a mahavan.”