Oh'Dar's Quest

by Leigh Roberts

  In the Healer’s Quarters, Adia was just waking up herself. It took her a moment before she remembered the previous night. She lay there for a long time, going over what had happened. She replayed every minute. It had been wonderful, everything she could have hoped. She knew it was not a dream. But she was confused, and she knew Acaraho would also be. She had to find him.

  Adia rose and checked on Oh’Dar, who was still fast asleep. She smiled at him lovingly, touched at how he still slept with his bear. He was growing up, but there was still that little offspring in there somewhere, too.

  As she was about to leave her quarters, Acaraho came down the corridor to her door. He stopped short when he saw her. She knew by his expression that he needed to speak with her as desperately as she needed to speak with him.

  They looked at each other, and suddenly Adia felt shy. She looked down and then back up at Acaraho, fearing his judgment. He was standing in front of her, his eyes questioning. He reached out for her, and she went to him, taking his hand.

  “We have to find somewhere private to talk,” she said. At which he nodded, then turned to lead her to one of the empty rooms nearby.

  Once inside, he turned and quickly took her in his arms and held her close. She started to protest, but it felt so wonderful to be pressed against his chest that she surrendered. He stroked her hair tenderly and sweetly. She was moved to tears by this expression of love. Acaraho was reassuring her that what had happened the previous night meant something to him as well—that it had not only been physical release. He was reminding her that he loved her.

  She pulled away to look up at him, tears in her eyes.

  “Adia,” he said tenderly, his hand placed softly on her cheek, “Please do not cry, Saraste’. Please do not have any regrets. I could not bear it if you said you wish it had not happened.”

  His use of the endearment Saraste’ touched Adia, but she shook her head. “Oh, Acaraho. My love. But it did not happen!”

  “What are you saying? Of course it did. I remember every moment. Waking to see you standing there, how my heart pounded in anticipation as you came to me, how warm and soft you were, that kiss—and then—” his voice trailed off.

  “I know. I know. But it was not real.” Oh, how do I make him understand when I barely understand it myself? she thought.

  “Adia, you cannot tell me it was a dream. That was no dream. That was real; what happened between us was as real as you and I are standing here now—” his confusion was growing.

  Adia told him, “Remember Urilla Wuti? You know she has talents that many Healers do not have. And you know that she taught me some of those. Well, what happened was not real. But it was not a dream either. Oh, I do not know how to explain it!” she said, her alarm growing that she had no idea how to make him understand.

  She tried again. “My love. Think about it. How did I get into the room? How did I move your stone door, one of the largest there is—one you put there specifically to give you warning if someone tries to gain entry? How could I possibly have moved that door at all, let alone without you hearing it scraping along the floor, little by little?

  “No matter how tired you might have been, you know you would have heard it!” she continued. “And you would have woken immediately.”

  He knew she was right. No matter how tired Acaraho was, some part of him was always on alert. And he had set the door just as she said—as a warning system should anyone try to enter while he was sleeping. There was probably no way she could have gotten the door open, let alone walked through it without him knowing.

  “Are you saying that last night did not happen? Because I cannot accept that,” he said.

  “It is hard to explain. Perhaps it is better if I show you. But I must have your permission to do so. And it will mean that you will know me better than you ever thought possible, and I, in return, will know you. Are you willing to have all the veils stripped away between us?”

  “I have no secrets from you, Adia. You have my permission to do whatever you want with me,” he smiled, toying with her over last night’s pleasure.

  She lowered her eyes again, almost blushing. It was a lover’s joke, and she relished that they might share that kind of intimate playfulness together as paired couples did.

  She led him over to a seating area where they could face each other as Urilla Wuti had taught her. She took his hands in hers and prepared herself for the Connection. She wanted to keep it as light as she could because she knew the onslaught of experiences that could pass between them. If possible, she did not want him experiencing Khon’Tor’s attack on her.

  When she was ready, she opened her eyes and looked into Acaraho’s. And then the Connection opened between them: Adia the Healer of the People of the High Rocks and Acaraho, their High Protector.

  In that moment, time dropped out of existence, and the space separating Adia and Acaraho disappeared. The window between them opened. The consciousness of each merged with that of the other until there was only one, no longer separated but joined, knowing each other’s hearts and minds in a way beyond explanation. Then, too soon, the process reversed, and they slowly separated, each becoming an individual again.

  Adia had tried to keep it as shallow and brief as possible. She hoped she had succeeded, but, from the look on his face and from her own experience, knew she had failed.

  Acaraho put his palm to his forehead, trying to collect himself. In that brief exchange, he had indeed merged deeper with Adia than she had intended. Perhaps it was the strong bond they already had that caused her to fail to keep it shallow. No matter how it happened and despite Adia’s intentions, Acaraho had relived every moment of every painful experience in her life—including Khon’Tor’s attack on her.

  Acaraho now understood from the inside out Adia’s reasoning for not turning in Khon’Tor. Like her, he remembered the pain at losing her father, her shame in front of the High Council. He experienced her grief at giving up Nimida and how she struggled not to think about her daughter. And he felt her deep, abiding love for him. It was like being two people at the same time, and his mind was reeling from its intensity.

  He stood up and walked over to the far wall, still trying to come out of the swirling mass of feelings he was almost drowning in. He put a hand up and leaned against the cold surface. Where did he start and she begin?

  If he had thought he hated Khon’Tor before, it was not even close to what he was feeling now.

  And if he had thought he loved Adia before, those feelings were not anywhere close to what he was feeling now, either.

  “Acaraho, I am sorry. Perhaps I should have prepared you better; please forgive me!” She jumped up and went over to him, reaching up to place her hands on his shoulders.

  He turned and took each of her hands in his. He pulled them both up to his chest and looked at her.

  “Adia, I had no idea what you have been through; it is I who must apologize to you. I do not know how you have done it, living with all that every day. Yet still caring for others as you do,” he said.

  “I do not know why that Connection was so strong. I have some control over it, and I meant to keep it shallow and more contained,” Adia tried to clarify.

  “Will you explain to me what you just did and how you did it?” he asked, leading her back to the seating area.

  Adia pulled herself together and started, “It’s called a Connection. I do not know how many Healers can perform it. I learned it from Urilla Wuti. Before that, I had no idea such a thing was possible. There are multiple levels; each goes deeper and deeper. I made only the lightest Connection with you; I cannot explain why it was so strong. Perhaps because we are already connected. That is all I can think.”

  “If that was a shallow Connection, what are the deeper Connections like?” he asked.

  “Each level is more and more invasive. If you go too deep, you can lose yourself in the other. The joining becomes intoxicating. And usually, after a Connection has been made, both need rest and time alone t
o process what they experienced. When we exchange experiences, we do not watch them from outside; we go through them just as the other did. And they leave a mark on us in exactly the same way.”

  She continued to explain to Acaraho what she could. She told him that a Connection should never be made with an offspring because they were unable to tolerate what most adults had endured.

  Acaraho listened intently, never taking his eyes off her. He understood what she was saying about needing time to recover. He was in no state to go about his day-to-day business.

  When she finished, he said, “So you think that what happened between us last night was some variation of this?”

  “Yes. I believe it was. That is the only possible explanation. Somehow it was my mind’s way of solving our dilemma. Wanting to be with you and not being able to. But I did not know it was possible, and even if I had, I would not have believed it could be so real. It also took me a moment to realize it was not!”

  “It is hard to accept that it was not real. I can still feel you pressed up against me. I can feel your warm breath against my neck.” he said, frowning.

  Adia did blush then. “Acaraho.” She shook her head. He could see she was trying to find delicate words to explain.

  “For one thing, I have no memory of walking to your quarters, and I could hardly have moved the stone, let alone done it without waking you, but beyond that—of course, my first thought was the fear of being seeded. So I checked—” and she stopped then, knowing he could fill in the rest.

  “Oh,” was all Acaraho said, realizing for himself what she said was true; there was no mingled physical evidence that it had happened.

  His hand rubbed his mouth as he mulled it over. Then he looked at Adia, and they both had the same thought at the same time.

  “This is wonderful!” And they both laughed.

  “Adia! Can you do this at will?” Acaraho asked, excited. If this is true, then we can be with each other with no repercussions. This was the answer to their frustrations and their dilemma—not able to move forward and unable to go back.

  Adia put her hand to her mouth at their mutual realization, then exclaimed, “I do not know! I did not know it was even possible before last night! I hope so. I will ask Urilla Wuti!” she said, her voice lilting with happiness.

  “How will you ask her? When can you ask her?”

  “There are several ways. Once you are connected, you can exchange impressions over distances. Do you remember when you had the vision of where Hakani and I were when she kidnapped Nootau? You told me that you saw in your mind the exact spot where we were standing.”

  Acaraho nodded.

  “That was Urilla Wuti; she pushed that vision to you. But for this, I will need to establish a Connection with her as I just did with you. But it will take me a while to recover my strength.”

  Acaraho had a lot to think about. It was still early, and fortunately, he had time to go back to his quarters and process the experience.

  “Find me after you talk to her,” he said. Then he kissed her forehead and got up to leave.

  “I am going to stay for a little while.”

  He nodded his understanding and left her to rest.

  Adia took her time collecting herself. She knew Acaraho had a strong personality, but experiencing it herself had taken her by surprise. She was right in what she had believed all along. Acaraho was every bit as strong as Khon’Tor, except that he did not possess the all-encompassing drive for power that their Leader did.

  She was struck with how much self-control he had. She had experienced for herself the strain he was under each day—from trying to manage his desire for her to suppressing his urge to make Khon’Tor pay for what he had done. However much respect she had for him before was now multiplied. Though, for some reason, she could not experience the other details of his life, she knew it had not been easy.

  Adia was anxious to contact Urilla Wuti, but she could not manage it immediately. Besides, with Acaraho’s feelings and experiences still fresh in her consciousness, it would be impossible not to share those with another person—even Urilla Wuti. She would have to practice partitioning some more; the ability to close off experiences shared by one in order not to share them with another. And there was also the matter of Urilla Wuti’s memories. If she wished to connect deeper with Acaraho, she would have to partition what she had experienced of Urilla Wuti’s life. She had a lot of work to do.

  So Adia spent the rest of that morning alone, sorting out and recovering from her connection with Acaraho.

  Acaraho made it back to his quarters and put the massive stone door back in place. He had to admit that there was no way Adia could have opened it by herself, and without making a sound.

  He paced around his room. Physical activity helped him think, but he was not in a position to face other people. Adia’s past experiences were still clear in his mind. He could feel the blow Khon’Tor had delivered to her head. He felt the fall to the cold, hard ground. And he experienced Khon’Tor’s violation of her—though in her delirium all had not fully registered. And for that, he was thankful.

  Oddly enough, he also experienced her desire for him. And mixed in with everything else was her experience of the past night. He was simultaneously experiencing the night before as himself and as her; he was at once the lover and the beloved.

  Acaraho understood how someone could get lost in this. And what would a deeper Connection be like? Putting that thought out of his mind and finally finding some humor, he chuckled to himself, Well, now I know the answer to the age-old question males have been pondering for generations regarding whose splendor lasts longer. And it is definitely that of the female.

  Urilla Wuti was sitting in meditation when she felt Adia reach out to her. She immediately understood the young Healer’s question without the need for words. And she answered in return, explaining what had happened.

  It was as Adia had suspected. Their long, unfulfilled desire for each other, coupled with her desperation for a solution, had allowed her to open a Connection with Acaraho in the Dream World. In this case, she was somehow able to project herself into his room as a full-bodied manifestation of her consciousness. And yes, she could do this at will, but she would need to practice it just as she did with any new skill.

  Urilla Wuti offered to work with her on this new-found ability. The older Healer was pleased to see that her years of training Adia were coming together. Far more was possible than that which Adia had accidentally discovered the night before. Urilla Wuti would explain it to her in time, but Adia had to learn to walk before she could run.

  Oh’Dar woke to find his mother already gone. He propped his bear back up in its spot to the side of his sleeping mat. He was anxious to get to his workshop. He had an idea of something to make for Honovi and enjoyed imagining her pleasure when he presented her with it. For the first time in a long time, he was happy again, and for the moment, was not troubled by his usual feelings of displacement. Having his own workroom made him feel useful and gave him a new sense of belonging.

  Oh’Dar had made a mental list during his time with the Brothers. He enjoyed seeing his inventions in use around Kthama. Though subtle, his improvements made all their lives easier.

  But before he could get to work, he had to take Kweeuu outside. When he was ready, Oh’Dar picked up the cub and padded down the corridor and out through the Great Entrance.

  He took Kweeuu to the spot he had chosen for the wolf cub to use. It was fairly close to the entrance, yet out of the way of foot traffic. He wanted Kweeuu eventually to go out by himself and did not want the area to be so far away that the cub might be tempted to wander off.

  When the cub was finished, Oh’Dar called him, and Kweeuu followed his master back inside. Oh’Dar took a moment to look up at the clear blue sky directly above. Soft, dark winter clouds were moving in. The cold weather was coming, but he did not mind; he had new wrappings to try out.

  On the way back, they stopped at the eating area t
o pick up the scraps that the older females had started collecting for Kweeuu.

  Khon’Tor was having his breakfast when Oh’Dar entered the Great Chamber. Though Khon’Tor knew that he could do nothing about the boy’s presence, he was still convinced that it would bring trouble to the People. Possibly the Waschini offspring would even cause an inevitable onset of Wrak-Ayya, the Age of Shadows.

  Akule approached Khon’Tor and asked to sit with him. Khon’Tor nodded; he had still not decided what to do with Akule, but for now, found him useful.

  The watcher sat down across from Khon’Tor and turned around to see what had caught the Leader’s attention. He saw Oh’Dar waiting at the meal preparation area.

  “The boy is growing; he is a young man already,” offered Akule, trying to start a conversation.

  “Yes, he is. In a few years, he will be old enough to mate. I have often wondered what will become of him then,” Khon’Tor replied. “If we are lucky, he will take a mate from the Brothers and become their problem,” he continued.

  “I thought you had accepted him,” said Akule, then immediately regretted it; Khon’Tor might see that as a challenge.

  “I accept that Oh’Dar is here, Akule. But I still do not like it,” said Khon’Tor, a bit too loudly.

  “He has family somewhere. And no matter how poorly we think of the Waschini, someone must be looking for him. It is just a matter of time before he brings disaster to our community. I am convinced it will be he who brings the Age of Shadows down on all our heads,” said Khon’Tor.

  “We already had one close call when he and the Whitespeak teacher were almost discovered by the Waschini riders this spring. Mark my words, that Waschini will be the downfall of all of us. And when that happens, the blame will land squarely on the Healer’s shoulders,” he finished.

  Khon’Tor abruptly shoved what was left of his meal away from him and rose to leave.