“Could you…Could you stay?” Reynolds asked, sounding so much like the boy Desmond had trained. “Not for long, I mean…but just a while?”
Desmond smiled at this, taking a step closer. “I could,” he said. “If you wish it.”
He settled down in a chair placed outside the cell. The two fell into a natural rhythm of conversation, as if the past few years had never happened. They spoke of their time on quests, of their moments at school, of the people they had known. Desmond felt himself go back twenty years, to a time when Reynolds filled him with hope and when nothing was too big of mountain for them to tackle.
The path ahead was clear for him, but he knew it was only because of the moments that were difficult that he could walk it. It had taken forty years to get the courage to walk away with Mariah, and it was because his courage had been tested so many times before. He didn't fear what was to come, for everything behind him had been fearful enough.
And despite having not taken Reynolds through to the tests, he felt he had succeeded with him. For despite the darkness, the past, his former Tiro still had strength within him, and still saw that he could live beyond all of this. He had taught him that. He had taught all of them that. Broken Christa, after the death of her Maestro, Nathaniel in the face of anxiety, Sienna in her daily struggles. And they had taught him patience and hope. They had taught him how to live.
There was a life beyond the magic, and he was eager to live it.
Epilogue
“Did you translate all of those?” Eliza asked in surprise Sienna had only been working for her 10 months, but it seemed that she learned a new language every week.
The former witch smiled as she handed her the tablet. “I did,” she said. “Some of them may be a bit shaky, but they are fine for the purposes you use. If that's all, my Queen…”
“It is all,” Eliza replied. “Baroness.”
Sienna blushed at the rank Eliza had given her. “It's Devon's birthday,” she said. “So we'll be off for the evening?”
“Of course,” the Queen replied. “It will be a relaxing…”
Just as she was finishing her sentence, the doors to the palace flew open and Jonah burst in.
The captain of the guards was normally cool and collected, but at the moment, his eyes were wild.
“Your highness,” he said. “The rebel forces are marching on us.”
Eliza's eyes hardened.
“Then attack. I won their throne here on Natrine. They need to accept that. Teach them a lesson.”
“No,” Jonah said. “They've had help. There're three outer rim planets that have come to their aid.”
“What?” Eliza asked. “Who allowed this?”
“Your highness, they took us by surprise,” Jonah said. “But regardless of semantics, we are currently outnumbered. You need to call Jeffro's forces, but we will need more back-up then that.”
“This is treason,” Eliza growled. Sienna, however, put a hand on her shoulder, calm.
“You took the throne,” she said. “The witches defend the thrones at all costs, as natural leaders must be protected.”
Eliza held her gaze.
“Will they send us aid?”
“Yes,” Sienna replied. “I believe they will.”
“Then call for it,” Eliza said. “Jonah, call the Jeffro forces. As many as we can spare.”
“My concern, your highness, is that if Jeffro is left half-defenseless, they will storm on there, as well.”
“No,” Eliza was defiant “We will defend both fronts. Call the witches now, Sienna. Ask for aid.”
“Aye,” Sienna nearly dropped the tablet and headed out of the large marble hall.
Devon was waiting just outside the door, expecting her to be finished work. Their life together on Natrine was much different from the rigid life the Order had demanded of them. Eliza was a kind mistress, expecting the work to be done when it was due and not much more. Sienna found herself happy, light and free. With her magic blocked, she was finally able to see what life was beyond the Order. With Devon's hand almost constantly in hers, she thought it was beautiful.
Today, though, her eyes were wide with panic.
“I need to call Nathaniel,” she said, as they ducked into a quiet corner. “We're under attack.”
“Mm,” Devon answered. “Somehow, I knew this day would come.”
“So did I,” she said. “We'll be flooded with witches in a few days. It's odd, this is the warrior excitement I always wanted. And now that it's here...”
“Now that it's here, you realize you are happy with your other path,” Devon answered. “Regardless, it will be nice to see our friends. I can call Laura, if you like.”
“Probably needed,” Sienna said, as she dialed through.
Nathaniel looked tired when he answered, his lighting dim. She could make out that he was at the school, in his room, and it was early morning. She hadn't thought about the time change.
“Maestro,” she said. “The day has come.”
“Oy,” Nathaniel replied, sitting up a bit more. “Do you need us to come now?”
“I do,” she said. “You and your Tiro. I'm going to put quest bids up. We'll need several teams.”
“We're ready,” Nathaniel replied. “Prada is stronger than any Tiro here. We will protect you.”
She remembered the days that he said that about her, and smiled.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Just stay safe,” he replied, and she sensed a grin in the darkness.
“Nathaniel…are you…excited?”
“I am a warrior after all, little one,” he said, as his tablet jiggled with him getting up. “And you always wanted to see me in action.”
“I did,” she answered. “I'm going to put a few calls out. Let me know if there's anything else I can do.”
“Look at us,” he replied. “Working together on intergalactic quests. Did you ever think that would happen again?”
She smiled.
“I didn't,” she said. “But we've found a way.”
“There's always a way,” Nathaniel said, “if you believe. I'll see you soon.”
“Bye,” she hung up, passing the tablet to Devon to call Laura. Despite the oncoming danger, Devon grinned at her.
“Well, this is exciting,” he said, as he keyed in Laura's number.
“It is,” Sienna drew her knees up as she perched on the window seat. “And I'm ready for it.”
“We're together,” he said. “We're ready for anything. And with you here, we can call in teams in any language. You're magic.”
His choice of words made her smile. “I didn't use to think I was,” she replied. “Not until you made me feel differently.”
“So, my love,” he said, as the call began to ring. “Are you ready for a new adventure?”
“I am,” she said, as Laura picked up. Like everything in life, it wasn't going to be easy. A year ago, she couldn't believe that she ever would have been happy with this reality. But today, with Devon by her side, and her skills sharp and making a different, she felt happy, and strong. It had taken walking away from her once dream, and from magic, to make her feel like she was indestructible
There was always another path, and she was so glad that she had found it.
***THE END***
Book 5: The Final Leg
Chapter 1
"Maestro Nathaniel, to the combat room, Maestro Nathaniel to the combat room quick pace."
"Oh, Creator." Nathaniel dropped his spoon onto the table, his rapidly cooling food practically smirking at him as he tore out of his room. This was becoming a routine, and not a good one.
Nathaniel was one of the top witches in the academy, known in his youth for his extreme skill in combat. Witches were the warriors and guardians of the entire galaxy: strong, respected and feared. Most Maestro witches also had Tiros, students who trained with them until adulthood, when they began their own journeys.
Nathaniel's current Tiro, Prada, was assigned to him because
she showed combat potential from a young age, far above her age group. She was stronger than almost him, but her magic was out of control. He knew when he was told to train her that she was the Princess of Powys, the only survivor of a planet that no longer existed. The trauma had caused selected mutism, the terror of such loss constantly waking her. And the anger of getting revenge often led her to blast magic that was unacceptable at school levels.
He knew that's why he was being called, even as he sprinted down the hall. This had happened before, and frankly, he was getting sick of it.
"Prada!" he roared as he pulled open the door to the combat room. At fifteen, she was more difficult than ever before. Some Tiros could take the final tests at fifteen, if they started young. Prada seemed to prefer spending her days doing damage to the classroom halls and other Tiros in class, even if she pretended otherwise.
The roar of her Maestro made her jump. He was the one authority figure in her life she actually respected.
She turned her eyes dark and stopped her magic. Nathaniel could already see her frightened opponent cowering by the wall, and the damage she had done to the walls in a circle around the room.
"Nathaniel, your Tiro is out of control," her teacher started, but Nathaniel put his hand up to silence her. He pointed to Prada, snapping his fingers to indicate she should come to his side.
She stared him down and he growled.
"Now," he said, and she agreed at last.
There was no point in trying to make her apologize. Outside of a very select few people, Prada spoke to no one. So, instead, he turned toward the door, withdrawing her from the class with a sigh.
They were alone in the hallway, classes in session all around them, when he turned to her.
"He started it," she said, referring to her opponent.
"I don't care who started it," Nathaniel cried. "You do not use your powers like that. Did you see the damage you did?"
Prada crossed her arms, looking away, and Nathaniel considered giving her a magical shock. But anger was not a witch trait, it distracted from the magic.
"Prada, I'm talking to you," he said. She didn't answer, and he shook his head.
"Fine. You are not fighting in tomorrow's showcase."
"You can't do that!" she cried.
"Forget it. I'm not sitting there wondering whether you're going to win or just kill someone," he said. "I better find you in your room in an hour, working on homework."
"No!" she argued. "I trained for months to—"
"Silence," he said. "Go."
Her eyes flashed, but eventually she went. It was only when he was alone in the hallway that he put his head against the wall with a sigh.
He thought he was prepared for this. After Sienna, he thought he was prepared for anything.
Sienna had been his first Tiro, and his previous one. In an unprecedented move, he and his former Maestro, Desmond, had both taken on Sienna as a Tiro. She suffered from the locust gene, which meant that her unrivaled power was consumed by her body. Her autoimmune illness meant that anything natural, including magic, attacked itself and nearly killed her. They thought that between the two of them they could find a way to harness her power and make her a great witch.
But instead, they found that her life was not compatible with magic. After years of battling, of caring for her, Nathaniel made the decision to block her magic with chemical infusions. She was healthier than ever, lively and rosy-cheeked, but she was no longer a witch.
Desmond had abandoned her as a Tiro not long after that, knowing they were stuck between a rock and a hard place. He retired from the academy, pledging himself to his long-time forbidden love, Mariah, and both of them now lived off-world, enjoying their retirement with each other.
Nathaniel had made the heartbreaking choice to end her training soon after. The Jurors, the body that governed them, had made him take a Tiro of their choosing, as was the promise when he took Sienna.
Sienna's future was bright, living on Jeffro with her own love story. Devon, another former witch, and her childhood sweetheart, lived with her in the palace of the Queen of Jeffro.
Eliza, coincidentally, was Nathaniel's childhood sweetheart. And every time Prada made him want to put his head through the wall, he considered retreating there for the rest of his life.
Eventually, he tore himself away from the wall, trying to keep his face serene. He was supposed to be sitting on the Jurors for the afternoon to review new initiates. Sitting on the Jurors was a lifelong dream of his, and it was finally starting to come true.
Having a difficult Tiro was not helping his case, even if they had chosen her for him.
He often wondered where he would be had he not been such a talented warrior. Would they say his mind was bright, his approach serene? Or was he just known because he could kill many in a single blow?
Not that he could do that so quickly anymore. He wasn't old, but he wasn't exactly young either.
He tried to keep his face serene as he walked toward the chamber of the Jurors. Of course, with the use of magic, they could sense anything that was wrong. But he hoped that they would have no reason to probe, to look for something that they didn't need to see. They had given him a difficult assignment and he wanted to be worthy.
Even if he wasn't sure that he was worthy of much, since abandoning his Tiro. Witches were taught not to dwell in the past, for it always distracted them. Nathaniel felt the weight of that lesson more than anything as he pushed open the doors to the Juror chambers.
To his surprise, only Thomas was there waiting for him. Nathaniel looked at his time piece in confusion.
“Am I late?”
“You are not,” Thomas confirmed. “But I have asked the others to arrive a bit later in order to be able to speak to you.”
Nathaniel’s heart rate rose.
“Have I done something to offend, Maestro?”
“No,” Thomas said. “But there is a delicate situation that I wish to assign you and your Tiro to.”
“Delicate?” Nathaniel raised his eyebrow with a chuckle. It wasn't a humorous one, unfortunately. “I'm not sure we are the best ones to tackle delicate, especially as of late. Mass displays of power and carnage, yes. But delicate?”
“It may require both,” Thomas replied. “There is a rebellion on Dramoon, and the weapons they have acquired threaten the galaxy. We have tried negotiation as long as we could, but it appears to be raging into a civil war.”
“Dramoon?” Nathaniel said in surprise “That's a lost planet. I didn't even know that we had anyone who could work there. The population is so hidden, so…remote.”
“And yet their weapons are advanced, and no one knows which allegiance they will choose. Our negotiations have been based on computer translation, but we have lost touch with the regime that governs. Their civilians are in great danger, and if they set their sights on the galaxy…”
“I know what remote planets can do,” Nathaniel answered. “Especially if they have been hoarding fire power for decades. You have reason to believe that it might escalate?”
“Yes,” Thomas said, without doubt.
“As I said, Maestro, delicate negotiation is not the strength that my Tiro and I brag about…”
“Not this Tiro…” Thomas said and Nathaniel paused.
“What?”
“Your former Tiro has the capabilities in language to communicate with them. Very few could with such a difficult language, but Sienna…”
“Sienna has left the order,” Nathaniel pointed out. “And even if she hadn't, she doesn't have the power to defend herself in such a situation.”
“You may see where my mind is headed, Nathaniel,” Thomas said and Nathaniel's eyes widened.
“Asking a former witch to return…”
“I'm not asking her to return, Nathaniel. I'm asking her to assist the order that she once dedicated her life to serve. And that she would still serve, had it not been for the fault in her stars.”
Nathaniel wanted to te
ll Thomas that it wasn't the only reason that she left, but he knew that wasn't true. Had he and Desmond trained Sienna better, told her to focus on her magic, and remained faithful even when her body failed, she would likely still be here. But instead, they had backed away.
“I can ask her,” Nathaniel said. “It's only right.”
“There's more,” Thomas said, and Nathaniel bowed his head. “Your former Maestro, Desmond, served on Dramoon for almost two years.”
“He did?” Nathaniel said, in shock. “When?”
“Before he took you on,” Thomas said. “But no one else has even come close to that kind of service there. With her language, his experience, and your fire power we should be able to contain whatever threat they are conjuring. You would spearhead this quest, of course.”
Nathaniel couldn't believe what he was hearing.
“You want me to ask my former Maestro and Tiro to join me on a quest?”
“I want peace in this universe, Nathaniel,” Thomas replied. “And you know what happens when a rebel, rural planet gets out of control.”
“I do,” Nathaniel answered, remembering many cases in history when countless lives had been lost.
“Are you opposed to asking your former team to work with you?” Thomas asked.
“No,” he replied. “I'm just…surprised.”
“They could turn us down,” Thomas answered. “But I have a feeling that they won't when they both know what is at stake. I would not ask this unless the situation is desperate. Where are they?”
Nathaniel drew a deep breath.
“Sienna lives on Jeffro, in the royal palace, that's easy enough. Desmond may take a bit more searching. He has been enjoying the quiet life, as far as I can tell. She'll know where he is, though.”
“And her health?”
“She has kept her magic blocked,” Nathaniel answered. “As far as I can tell from afar, and so her health should be strong.”
“So be it,” Thomas waived his hand. “Let nature guide you, Nathaniel, for this is a situation that some may not come back from.”
“Nature will guide me,” Nathaniel answered, as he rose. “I'll go to them at once.”
“One more thing,” Thomas said. “Your Tiro. I heard about her today.”
Dragon of the Prairie (Exiled Dragons Book 13) Page 65