Draggah

by Toby Neighbors

  He raised the flame higher in the air simply by imagining the flow of magic moving higher. He dared to let a little more magic flow through, and the flame, which had been the size of a candle flame, roared to life. At first the fire was as big as a torch, but the pressure of the magic grew so intense that Tiberius’ control slipped for just a second. A gush of magic raced past him before he could clamp his mind back over the flow. The ball of fire raged into a huge wall of flame, the heat so intense it knocked Tiberius backward.

  Just as suddenly as the flame had erupted, it vanished. Tiberius lay on the ground shaking, sweat having broken out all over his body. He was amazed and terrified at the same time. The spell was broken and the strain was gone, but it reminded him of some of the physical training he’d done in his quest to become a Paladin in Avondale. The novices were required to train with weapons, but also to exercise their bodies. One such activity required Tiberius to jump up and grasp the top of a wall, then pull himself over the obstacle. He could always grab the top of the wall, but in most cases he simply couldn’t pull himself over. He always fell, but just before he would be hanging by his fingers, straining with all his might just to hang on. That was exactly what controlling the fire felt like.

  Tiberius couldn’t help but wonder if he could build his mental strength enough to ever feel comfortable trying to control the spell. He didn’t want to give up, but the truth was the power he could tap into so easily terrified him. He didn’t want to hurt the people around him, or repeat the mistakes that had led to the great cataclysm. He always saw magic as a good thing. In fact, the first principle of magic was that it existed to benefit all mankind. Yet it was a powerful force, one much too powerful to be dabbled with. He lay on his back, trying to calm down, but he was already anxious to try the spell again. He would have to work hard, he determined. He couldn’t give up. He was a wizard after all, and he didn’t know when or how, but he knew that in some way he needed to know the magic he was practicing. He needed to master each spell and be able to use them with confidence. People were depending on him, and he vowed to himself that he wouldn’t let them down.

  Chapter 19

  Olyva

  She saw the fire like everyone else, but to Olyva it signified more than just the boy wizard trying some new trick. To her it was an omen. She was seeing many things differently now. She was more attuned to the world around her than ever before.

  She could taste things on the wind, like the smell of animals, even at great distances. She could feel the earth moving under her feet. She could close her eyes and sense the people all around her. She had never noticed how much people moved before. They never just sat still; even when they were trying to just relax, they were almost constantly moving. And she could feel changes in the atmosphere. She remembered hearing about people with wounds or old injuries that could tell when a storm was coming. Elderly people who claimed that their joints ached when wet weather was on its way. Now she understood that more than ever. There was a pressure to the atmosphere, and it too could change. She had felt the air pressure increase before the rainstorm several days earlier. She hadn’t known what she was feeling or exactly what it foretold, but on a deep intrinsic level, she understood that rain was coming.

  The changes to her body were minor, at least in her eyes. And while those changes seemed to have arrested, she could sense internal changes taking place. Her bones felt more firm than before, and she could sense that she was growing stronger. She’d never considered herself to be strong at all. Growing up, she worried about being pretty, but never strong. Now, she felt a significant sense of strength that started in her feet and rose up through her entire body. When she locked her toes down into the rich soft soil, she felt powerful. Not that she was immoveable, in fact just the opposite. She could bend and sway, but her strength was unmatched when her feet were on the ground, which was one of the reasons she didn’t like to ride the horse that had been provided for her. The only time she’d consented to ride rather than walk was at night.

  When the sun went down and the sky grew dark, she felt an incredible sense of loss. Part of her knew that rest was an essential part of life, but she regretted it just the same. At night, she wanted only to curl up and feel as much of the earth beneath her body as possible.

  She took pleasure in many things now, most of which she couldn’t remember ever noticing before. The beauty of sunlight, even though it was diffused as it passed through the thick barrier of mist high overhead, was a rich treat. She would have stripped her clothes away and let the glorious sunlight soak into every inch of her skin if it weren’t so scandalous. She loved to hear the children laugh, to see the kindness between lovers, and the way the Hoskali tribe made use of every part of the Tamaka they hunted. The winds carried messages, telling her about things going on in the world far away. She saw birds flying and small animals like field mice scampering through the grass. And everything she saw, and felt, and heard meant something to her.

  The ball of fire was not only seen, it was heard by the entire tribe. When Tiberius’ magic conjured the huge wall of flame, even though it was only for a second, the fire roared. Olyva heard it consume the oxygen all around it, and tasted the charred air as it drifted down toward the camp. She was petrified of fire. Since her change, fire was by far the most terrifying thing she had seen. The tribe used it so recklessly, for all types of tasks. Being surrounded by it night after night frightened her, but Tiberius’ wall of flame was a sign of danger coming. Of course she knew that no one would believe her. She had a hard time understanding how she knew what the signs portended, but just like the coming rain, she knew on a deep intrinsic level that something terrible was coming.

  She tried not to worry, but she couldn’t help watching Tiberius on the hill. His power was growing, she could feel that just by being near him. There was a resonance to Tiberius now that was different from everyone else. She had thought his act of loyalty to Rafe when they were banished was moving, until she learned that he was dabbling in magic. Since then, she had come to respect what he could do, but she still felt that he was out of his depth. She didn’t think that anything good could come from magic, but she also felt that if anyone could understand her now, it was Tiberius because of his newfound sensitivity to the supernatural.

  When Rafe returned to the camp just before sunset, Olyva found something to keep her busy. The truth was she didn’t want to interact with Rafe any more than she had to. She still cared deeply for him, but it was obvious that he was convinced there was something wrong with her. Olyva hadn’t asked to be changed by the sentient trees, but she didn’t want to give up the incredible things that change had brought to her. He couldn’t see that; his mind was closed off to the possibility that she was more herself now than she had ever been.

  He came to her once he had washed the sweat of his long run with the Rogu off his body and changed his clothes. She knew he was growing closer and closer to some of the young women in Tiberius’ harem. It was natural, she knew that, despite the fact that it pained her to admit it. Sometimes she wished he would forget all about her and find solace in another woman’s arms. She still loved Rafe, but she couldn’t give him what he needed, not while she was struggling to understand and embrace the changes in herself.

  “What have you been doing today?” he asked.

  “Helping,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t push her too hard.

  “I heard that Tiberius nearly burned his eyebrows off,” he said, chuckling.

  “That isn’t funny,” she scolded.

  “Oh, he knows I respect him. We’ve teased each other all our lives.”

  “Fire is nothing to joke about.”

  He frowned, and Olyva tried to smile. She realized she’d come across too harsh and she wanted to lighten the mood. She hated doing anything that made Rafe aware of their differences. He looked at her, his forehead pinched as he looked at her arms and feet. She knew he was trying to assess if the fuzzy patches of tiny stems or the rough patches that looke
d like bark were growing. It made her even more uncomfortable.

  “Why don’t we go back,” she said, nodding her head toward the large shelter that they shared with Tiberius and Lexi.

  She laid down the flint bladed knife she’d been using to scrape fat from one of the stretched animal hides. She didn’t really enjoy helping with the tanning process, but she had hurried to help at the closest activity once she saw Rafe returning to the camp. She took his arm and felt him stiffen. She remembered how she used to love to feel the muscles in his arms flexing when she touched him. He had seemed so strong, so chivalrous in Avondale, but he only seemed stiff and closed off to her now.

  “Is it getting worse?” he asked.

  She knew immediately what he was asking, but she pretended she didn’t.

  “Is what getting worse?”

  “The changes,” he said. “I know we’ve spent a lot of time here lately, and I think we need to push on. We should be working our way north toward Sparlan Citadel.”

  “There’s no rush,” Olyva said.

  “I know you don’t want everyone dropping what they’re doing and rushing to get you help, but it’s the most important thing to me.”

  “Rafe,” Olyva said, stopping and turning him to look at her. “I don’t need help.”

  “You say that, but we still don’t know what’s happening to you.”

  “I know,” she said. “And I know everything will be okay.”

  “How can you say that?” he asked, his frustration finally coming to the surface. “You’re okay with turning into a tree?”

  “I know it doesn’t seem that way to you,” she answered, “but the changes are good.”

  “Good? You haven’t eaten since we were banished. Do you know that? I don’t know how you even have the strength to stand.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine. You’re not yourself anymore.”

  She yawned. She hadn’t meant to, but she couldn’t help it. Once the sun set, the camp grew dark quickly and the lack of light, which fed her and made her feel strong, left her feeling empty and tired.

  “Really? Am I that boring to you?” he said loudly.

  “Rafe, please,” Olyva said. “I just get tired quickly when the sun goes down.”

  “And you don’t see that as a problem? Do you remember how we used to stay late at the feasts just to steal a glance at one another? Do you remember how we stayed up almost all night talking after Tiberius and I killed the Graypees? Why don’t you want to be with me anymore?”

  “What?” she asked in surprise. “I never said I didn’t want to be with you.”

  “But you don’t. You avoid me all day. You sleep without me at night. You won’t even sit around the fire and talk, you’d rather lie in the dirt and sleep.”

  “You’re angry, and I don’t want to fight with you.”

  “I am angry,” he bellowed. “I’m tired of pretending not to be.”

  “You have no reason—”

  “I have every reason!” He didn’t care who heard him now. “I gave up everything to be with you. My family, my future, my place in the war band, everything. I could have been the Earl’s champion. I could have led the entire war band, do you realize that? I threw it all away because I thought you loved me.”

  “I do love you, Rafe.”

  “Then why aren’t you fighting this?”

  He reached out and grabbed a handful of the soft stems. They were little more than fuzz on her soft skin, but he pinched them and tore them out of her flesh. She screamed and staggered back, holding her arm.

  “Rafe!” Tiberius shouted as he ran to where they stood facing each other. “What are you doing?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, looking down at his hand.

  “Don’t you ever do that again,” Olyva said, her voice shaking with rage.

  Rafe stared at her for a moment, then turned away. Olyva looked down at her arm. She could see raw flesh and a slow, amber colored liquid welling up where he’d snatched at her arm.

  “Are you okay?” Tiberius said.

  Olyva nodded. “I will be,” she said. “I just need some rest.”

  “Come with me,” Lexi said.

  She took Olyva by the shoulders and led her back toward the big shelter. Olyva was sad, but she was so tired she just wanted to go to sleep. She could feel the sap, at least that’s what she thought of the amber colored fluid flowing from the wound in her arm, thick and sticky between her fingers, flowing over the wound in her arm. It was distressing and comforting at the same time. She was angry at Rafe’s violent response and her mind automatically worried about the wound. It should have been bleeding and blood represented pain and death, but the sap was different somehow. She could tell it was meant to heal her, and it eased her worry.

  “I’m sure Tiberius can help with that,” Lexi said, trying to reassure Olyva.

  “It’s okay, I just need some rest.”

  “Maybe you should eat something first,” Lexi urged.

  “No, I don’t need food.”

  “You’re much too thin,” Lexi said. “It couldn’t hurt to eat a little something.”

  Olyva had lost weight, but it wasn’t a bad thing. She was getting stronger, she knew that. She could feel herself growing more powerful every day, but she couldn’t explain it to the others. She realized that her change was distressing them.

  “Alright,” she agreed. “I’ll try a little something.”

  Lexi’s attitude immediately changed. She had seemed concerned before, worried despite the fact that she hadn’t known Olyva before the banishment and hadn’t gotten along with her afterward. But Olyva could tell the smaller girl was worried, and just agreeing to eat seemed to lift her spirits.

  At the shelter, Olyva sank into her usual spot, a short distance from the fire, just inside the glow of its dancing orange light. Lexi hurried and retrieved a platter of food. There was more than either one of the girls could have eaten on their own.

  “I can’t eat that much,” Olyva said.

  “Oh, I know,” Lexi said. “I just wasn’t sure what you might want.”

  “The berries look good.”

  The Rogu didn’t always return from hunts with animals. They sometimes gathered wild vegetables, nuts, and fruit. A stash of ripe blueberries had been found recently and Olyva ate a few of them. She’d always liked berries. Especially blackberries, which grew on the slopes of Mount Hamill where’s she’d grown up. Some of the more adventurous citizens ventured out of the Keep’s high walls and crawled along the steep sides of the mountain gathering the precious fruit. The blueberries weren’t as sweet as blackberries, but she enjoyed them just the same.

  She tried a small cup of the Kymis. It was very mild, and not to Olyva’s liking, but she drank it just the same. She could appreciate the tastes of the food, but they did not give the sense of strength and sustenance that the sunlight did.

  “It’s good to see you eat,” Lexi said. “Is your arm alright?”

  “It will be,” Olyva said. “Thank you for helping.”

  “Rafe will be so relieved to know that you ate.”

  “Rafe…” Olyva wasn’t sure what to say.

  When she thought of him, all she could see was the look of disgust in his eyes as he plucked the handful of stems from her arm.

  “He’ll come around,” Lexi said. “He’s just worried about you.”

  “I know,” Olyva said sadly. “I’m tired. I better get some rest.”

  Lexi didn’t argue, and Olyva was thankful. Rafe hadn’t returned to the shelter, and she was glad for that too. She would probably have to deal with him in the morning. She wouldn’t let him hurt her again. If he couldn’t accept the changes she was going through, she would have to cut off their relationship. Just thinking of that made her so sad she felt tears welling up in her eyes. She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to be sad. She just wanted to sleep. She closed her eyes and drifted away.

  Chapter 20

/>   Tiberius

  Tiberius followed Rafe. His friend stalked angrily through the camp and Tiberius followed several paces behind. He didn’t try to catch up. He knew Rafe needed a little time to work through his feelings. At the edge of camp, they walked past the sentries and into the all-pervasive gloom. When Rafe finally stopped walking, Tiberius did too, but he didn’t speak. He just stood silently behind his friend, waiting for Rafe to turn around. He couldn’t see Rafe, but he could sense his friend in the darkness. He could hear him breathing.

  “You know I’m trying,” Rafe said.

  “Yes,” Tiberius answered.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt her, I just…”

  “You want the girl you knew back,” Tiberius said. “That’s reasonable.”

  “I just don’t know what to do, Tiberius. She doesn’t want me anymore.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t think that’s true. She’s going through a lot.”

  “So am I, damn it!”

  “I know,” Tiberius said calmly. “No one is trying to minimize your pain, Rafe. We just have to find a way to work through all of this together. Maybe once we get to Sparlan Citadel, we’ll be able to fix things.”

  “That’s just it,” Rafe said, his voice shaking with emotion. “I don’t think she wants to fix it. I think she likes it. Whatever those trees did to her, it’s affecting her mind, Ti. She likes what’s she’s turning into. She wants to be a tree.”

  Tiberius took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure what to say. He knew that he could never turn away from becoming a wizard and he wouldn’t want anyone to try and stop him. If that’s how Olyva felt, he couldn’t blame her. But he couldn’t blame Rafe for wanting things back the way they had been either. So much had changed since they left Avondale.