I stared wordlessly at the glowing white figure walking beside Pima.
So, you’re basically my babysitter.
“In essence, yes.”
Pima placed me in Mycella’s arms. I supposed I should start thinking of her as ‘mother’ if I wanted to blend in. It wouldn’t do to stick out as older than my body appeared if I didn’t want to attract attention.
A man stepped into view. He’d be father, most likely. I wondered what it would be like to have a father. Maybe something good could come out of this unmitigated disaster.
“Isn’t he beautiful, Quency?” mother asked.
Father’s eyes held wonder.
“What shall I record as his name?” Pima asked.
“He is Gaelen,” father told her in a whisper.
Gaelen. I liked it. A new life with a new name and a new family. If I was careful not to disturb my tragedies buried deep inside, I could become a completely different person. Managed correctly, I might even lead a happy life.
“Don’t forget why you’re here, Erianger.”
Except for that thing. Creation might prove to be a problem.
“…prove to be a problem.
“And that’s how the cycle always goes. I’m born to a new family that’s quickly murdered, find Arivor, end him, and return to the space between worlds. Sometimes I find my friend before he becomes Doldimar, and sometimes, as in this cycle, Doldimar has held sway for a very long time before I even arrive on the scene.
“He and I have been doing this for… I’m not sure how many cycles now. I’ve lost count. The years have blurred together, and frankly, for the last dozen cycles or so, I’d given up hope on ever seeing an end to it. Then you came along,” Kheled finished.
He settled further into the tree trunk’s embrace to await his friend’s reaction.
They’d abandoned the clearing, fleeing from it as if it carried the plague. Neither had wanted to be near Teron’s empty vessel now that the person they’d both hated no longer animated it.
Both the men had refused to touch Ele to aid their flight in an unspoken agreement. The healer didn’t touch it because the white light seemed to unnerve his friend at the moment. Raimie had recoiled whenever it appeared.
Making with all mundane speed, they’d only stopped when night had fallen. Any fighting that may have progressed in the time they’d been away would’ve stopped when the sun dropped below the horizon. Neither side could hope to see in the dark unless they were Esela, and those of Kheled’s race were few and far between.
Raimie and Kheled could have pushed through the night to arrive on the battlefield come the morrow, exhausted by their midnight trek, but they’d opted to rest instead. They could possibly tip the balance of the battle to victory for their friends by themselves, but even if they used primal magic to assist, they were only two men against an army. Besides, Oswin and the men had their orders. They should be in Tiro, resting comfortably by now.
They’d settled on a spot near a stream, and after partaking of the refreshing water, they’d flopped tiredly to the forest floor where Kheled had begun relaying his tale. He’d unearthed ancient wounds, ripped away the tourniquet binding his torn asunder heart together, and completely raw, the slightest hurt would destroy him. He’d once again become the cold, calculating Eselan incapable of anything but boredom that he’d left in Allanovian.
The silence stretched long now, and Kheled was very aware that his story would, without doubt, change his relationship with Raimie. The question was, would it change for the better or worse? Did he still have a friend?
“Please say something,” he eventually whispered.
“Have I been calling you by the wrong name this whole time? Is it really Erianger?” Raimie asked, eyes narrowed in the dark.
“My name was Erianger; just like it was Gaelen, Keltheryl, and many, many others. Right now, it’s Kheled or Khel to my friends,” he shrugged. “I’d accept any of them, but I like my newest name quite a lot because it’s what you call me.”
Raimie was quiet again, and Kheled didn’t like it. The thought came to him that his friend may hate him, and he recoiled from the idea while at the same time anxiety boiled under his skin.
“How much of what you’ve told me has been lies?” Raimie asked quietly.
“None! I’ve never lied to you. I may have redirected or otherwise manipulated conversations occasionally, but there have been no lies.”
“What about when you told me healing was impossible in the Withriingalm? That assertion doesn’t line up with your new story.”
Kheled had forgotten about that conversation, and technically, what he’d said at the time had been true.
“I wouldn’t call what an Ele primeancer can do with Preservation and Restoration healing, more transferal. We can restore someone else’s body to perfection, but it comes at a cost.
“The primeancer’s body acquires the injury, condition, or disease of the patient. Also, it takes an enormous amount of effort and will to start the process. It’s extremely inadvisable for the normal primeancer, but I’m not normal.
“Where other primeancers are required to force a restoration, I have to hold myself back from doing it accidentally. When I do Let Go, it works just like it does for every other primeancer, but the force that keeps me alive also purges whatever ill is transferred to me. I feel the pain and discomfort but at a much faster rate as it’s processed out rather quickly.”
“Then why haven’t you fixed my father?”
“I…” Kheled tiredly thunked his head against the trunk behind him. “In my experience, there’s a cost for the one healed too. I’ve found that simply leaving the current injury is better than whatever consequence might arise from the transferal of wounds.”
“You fixed me.”
“Because I had to!” Kheled made a face. “I guess that’s not strictly true. I restored your hands when we first met because I didn’t want the world to suffer for what I perceived at the time as your foolishness. I reasoned that I could monitor you enough to mitigate whatever consequences might arise, but none ever did. I don’t know if you’re immune or if something horrid lurks around the corner for you, but I can’t take the chance that the theory I’ve held for centuries is invalid. I won’t restore anyone besides you, even if the alternative is death.”
Raimie’s face twisted.
“Is there anything that can permanently kill you?”
The venom in his friend’s voice made Kheled flinch, and he wondered briefly if the question was a test of honesty.
“If there is, I’ve never encountered it, and I’ve experienced an indescribable number of ways to die. As Erianger alone, I spent years as Reive’s test subject, and he was very creative when it came to methods of murder. He particularly enjoyed attempting to kill me off after I’d transferred someone’s infirmity for him. Maybe that’s where my reluctance to heal comes from. Reive always did kill my patient off afterward.”
Who knows how many centuries later and even the name of the Councilor caused Kheled to burn with rage.
“I suppose fire or cannibalism might work since my body would be completely destroyed, but otherwise, if anyone other than Arivor tries to kill me, it just doesn’t take. I’m not sure even he could accomplish the task. I’ve never allowed him the chance.”
Silence descended once more, and Kheled could tell his friend was working up the courage to ask the question that was truly bothering him.
“Why would you keep this from me? Did you think I’d share your secret, or was I simply not good enough to warrant the full truth until I dragged out enough pieces to notice your oddity?”
“I…”
How could his friend believe that Kheled thought so poorly of him?
“Raimie, everyone I’ve ever shared this with in the past has died before their time. Horribly. Even now, Creation stands before me shaking his head at what he believes to be foolishness. I didn’t want to endanger you any more than you already are as the king of Aud
en and as my ally.”
“You kept all of this to yourself to protect me,” Raimie stated blankly. “No other reason than that.”
“I was also afraid,” Kheled admitted. “I like this friendship we have. It’s something I’ve missed. I was terrified that if I revealed everything you’d never want to associate with me again.”
Raimie stood abruptly.
“I need some space,” he muttered, and Kheled was alone.
He considered going after the human, but what would that accomplish? Raimie would decide on his own whether he wanted to disavow their friendship or whether they could go on as before.
“You’re going to regret telling him,” Creation said disapprovingly.
“You’re probably right.”
Raimie would decide, and life would move on. That was that.
* * *
“I knew there was a reason I disliked him so much!” Dim exclaimed triumphantly.
Raimie ignored the Daevetch splinter, wandering aimlessly along the stream bank.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked Bright, too tired to simply think at him.
“It wasn’t my place, and you wouldn’t have appreciated hearing it from me. Kheled needed to tell you his story in his own time.”
Raimie wasn’t sure about that. Then again, he wasn’t sure what he thought about any of it.
“No wonder I’ve felt the need to rip him apart every time I’ve been near him!” Dim muttered darkly. “He’s the sole reason my side hasn’t completely eradicated the adversary. Damned Eselan adds that little splash of unpredictability they’ve always needed.”
“I’d like to think Erianger isn’t the only reason my side continues to exist,” Bright said indignantly. “After all, we held our own against you and yours for eons before attaining a grip on the physical realm.”
“Please keep your mouths shut,” Raimie commanded absently.
Both splinters’ teeth clicked together, and he reveled in the sudden quiet. He was a leaf pulled from his stem, caught in the wind and tumbling every which way that it decided to blow.
As if in answer to his thoughts, a breeze danced through the tree boughs nearby. It hit his face, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of it caressing his hair. Crouching beside the stream, he trailed his fingers in the water, its icy chill sending goose bumps up his arms.
He hadn’t expected to survive this long. He was supposed to fall to a Kiraak’s blade, and when that hadn’t happened, Teron was supposed to collect his head.
The fact that he was alive, able to enjoy the simple pleasure of water trickling through his fingers and the sight of brilliant stars through the trees’ canopy, was nothing less than a miracle, and in large part, it was thanks to Kheled.
He didn’t know why he felt so betrayed by the healer. Maybe it was because his friend had kept something so huge from him. Raimie had always been open and honest with Kheled once the Eselan had proven safe. He’d never held anything back. Well, except perhaps for Nylion.
Are you still angry, Nyl?
Nothing. Which was in itself a yes.
Raimie shook his head. Maybe it wasn’t the deception. Maybe he was angry because Kheled had hidden this secret so well that he’d not had a single inkling that it existed for months. That level of manipulation was… scary.
Was this the only thing he’d kept hidden, or was there more? If you’ve lived for Alouin knows how long, Raimie supposed you’d quickly learn how to hide what you wished from the world.
And perhaps that was the real problem. Maybe he didn’t feel betrayed and wasn’t angry at all. Maybe he was simply terrified of Kheled. If you spent so much time alive, did that change you to something… other? Could he ever hope to relate or compare to the healer?
Exhaustion weighed on him. He couldn’t hope to process his thoughts and feelings when he walked in a fog like he did now.
Raimie released the command on his splinters and returned to the little collection of trees they’d chosen to camp in for the night. At the very least, it should be safer to sleep near Kheled than by himself.
When he came close, the Eselan’s quiet snoring barely carried over the stream’s babbling noise. Raimie lit the area with Ele and examined the healer curiously. He’d never seen Kheled sleep before.
“Poor dear’s probably depleted,” Bright said fondly. “Not only has he used Esela magic today, but there was also an inordinately heavy expenditure of the whole as well.”
“I used Ele excessively today, and the only reason I’m tired is because of the added physical activity and torture,” Raimie commented.
“Yes, but your existence doesn’t depend on the state of the whole,” Bright answered indulgently. “Erianger is sustained entirely by the life force of what you call Ele. Any use of it directly affects him, and before you ask, yes you’re technically killing him with your primeancy, but your usage would be like… a minor headache. What he did today is comparable to being in the midst of a bad fever, deep-seated exhaustion along with total body aches and pangs.”
“Did he know what he was doing when he used so much Ele?” Raimie asked.
“Of course he did. He’s done it before, but only in the service of the greater good and of those he holds most dear.”
“But why would he…?”
“Because you’re his friend. Why else?”
At that moment, a particularly loud snore rattled the copse, and Kheled mumbled something incoherent and shifted. Raimie’s lips twitched.
“He’s not fallen into the nightmares tonight,” Bright commented.
Raimie cocked his head, narrowing his eyes at the healer. What was he afraid of? Kheled was still Kheled. It wasn’t like he’d morphed into a two-headed dragon. He was Raimie’s friend, and as such, he deserved trust that he wasn’t intentionally deceiving Raimie and respect that sometimes he needed to keep his secrets.
“This is good,” he told Bright. “He fully deserves his rest tonight.”
* * *
Something jostled Kheled’s ankle, drawing him from a deep well of black.
“Wake up, Khel. We’ve a long way to go to reach Tiro.”
Opening his eyes sleepily, he raised a hand to his mouth, wiping drool away with wonder. He hadn’t had a night without dreams in years.
The previous evening came back in a rush, and he froze.
“How much time do you need to get ready?” Raimie asked.
“Why aren’t you screaming at me?”
Kheled stared listlessly away from his friend, pointedly keeping his face hidden and blank.
“You should be screaming. You should punch me. You should leave, take off to Tiro on your own. You should tell me you never want to see my face again,” he faced his friend with effort, certain of what he’d find. “Why aren’t you?”
Surprise painted Raimie’s face which in turn confused Kheled. The human walked closer until he was standing over the healer, and he loosened every muscle, willing his body not to fight back when the blows came.
“What on earth are you talking about, Khel? Is this about yesterday? Sure, I was a little upset that you hadn’t shared earlier, but I understand how difficult it can be to let go of a secret that big. Don’t worry about it.
“Now, we really should leave soon. Do you need help up?”
He offered a hand, and Kheled accepted it, tears streaming down his face.
“What did I do?” Raimie asked, horrified. “Whatever it was, I’m sorry!”
“Don’t apologize, my friend. These aren’t sad tears. For the first time since my life as Erianger, they’re tears of joy.”
* * *
They hung back, out of sight of Tiro’s great stone doors.
“Are you sure you should be the one to approach?” Kheled asked. “From what you’ve told me, Riadur seemed adamant about you staying away.”
“For what you’ve told me, he’s not your greatest fan either,” Raimie pointed out. “No, I should go. I’ll have a greater chance of finding
out what happened than you would.”
They’d passed the beach on their way to Tiro. Bodies littered the grass and sand, more numerous than Raimie would like to see. They were the only evidence that a battle had taken place. No sign of the victorious army could be found, and casualties seemed to equal out from what they could see of the remains left to rot in the sun.
Steeling himself, he emerged from the safety of the trees, hands in plain view.
“Please don’t shoot me,” he called out. “I’ve no intention of entering Tiro. I only want to know what happened to my people, and I’ll go quietly.”
Even saying that, he fully expected an arrow to come for one of his many exposed body parts, but to his surprise, the doors opened after only a short wait. Ren sprinted to him, squeezing through the stone as soon as it was wide enough for her to pass.
“Where’s my brother?” she demanded, eyes wide with worry. “I swear if he’s been hurt attempting to help you, you will rue the day you met me!”
“He’s fine, Ren,” Raimie replied with a chuckle.
He found her concern especially amusing now that he knew who and what his friend was.
“We weren’t sure what sort of reception we’d receive so I told him to wait in the tree line.”
Speaking of silly concern, why had he told Kheled to wait again? Raimie gestured, and his friend came trotting over to join them. He caught his sister when she flung herself at him.
“Don’t you ever make me do something like that again!” she exclaimed, punching his shoulder.
“Have we determined why it’s acceptable for females to hit males, but if the opposite occurs, so help you Alouin?” Kheled asked Raimie.
The human shrugged with a half-smile, refusing to become involved. Ren lightly punched Kheled again and laughed when he feigned pain.
“How long can I remain here before your father attempts to murder me?” Raimie asked lightly in an attempt to remind the others of why he was there.
“He wouldn’t dare!” Ren said with mock horror. “After all, you accomplished something that we’ve been attempting for years. If Riadur doesn’t graciously grant you welcome, as he has, there’d be riots in the streets.”
The Undying Champions (The Eternal War Book 1) Page 70