The Timeless One

by Lexy Wolfe

  "I thought there was something more wrong than either of you were letting on," Mureln murmured. He put his hand on the mage's shoulder. "Ash. Let me talk to her. Maybe she will listen to reason from someone not so close to her." He waved towards the door. "Go spend some time with Terrence. He could use some guidance on dealing with women."

  "Terrence?" Ash asked, bothered he had not noticed anything regarding his former apprentice.

  Mureln nodded. "That Forentan Adept of Jaison's seems to have taken a shine to him. Miss Kelafy's girl, I think. She had gotten off to a bad start with him and Lyra when she tried to argue propriety about you and Storm sharing a room." He smiled faintly. "Rather a small world, when you think about it."

  Grateful, Ash pushed himself to his feet. "Thank you, my friend. I hope you have better luck than I have had." With one more worried look towards the sleeping Desanti woman, Ash resolutely turned and walked out. Mureln leaned back in his chair and put his feet on the edge of the table, sipping his wine as he waited. He was in no hurry to awaken Storm from the sleep she still needed to recover.

  There was nothing obvious to indicate Storm had awoken a couple hours later, but the change in the air was palpable. Mureln watched her for a heartbeat then stated, "Good day, Swordanzen."

  Pushing herself up, Storm frowned. "Where is Ash?" she asked bluntly.

  "Spending time with Terrence." Mureln watched her expression for subtle changes, keeping his voice even. The apathy and listlessness were subtle but recognizable. He steeled himself in preparation for the more blunt Desanti approach, knowing a gentler manner would be rebuffed. "You need to wake up, Desanti." As he hoped, Storm's apathy lifted some with prideful ire at the implied slight. "Just because you are blind does not mean you cannot see."

  "What are you talking about?" The surly woman sat upright, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "You make no sense. You see with your eyes. If you are blind, you cannot see. And I am blind."

  "Pfft." Mureln made a dismissive gesture as he stood and walked over. Placing his feet carefully, he did not make a sound. He raised a hand to slap her, but she reflexively reached up, catching him by the wrist with an iron-like grip. His question was simple. "How did you know I was there and going to hit you?"

  "What do you mean? I just knew," Storm replied, releasing him after a moment. Her hostility abated fractionally as her puzzlement grew.

  Mureln shook his head, rubbing his wrist. "No, it's more than that. Think about it. It's the same reason you can fight as well blinded as you can sighted. I've watched your training, Storm. You use more than your eyes. You can feel the air move on your skin. You recognize the sounds of how the air moves around things and how things move the air around."

  "Really? It is a skill?" Storm wondered, hesitant hope in her tones.

  The bard shrugged. "Vodani learn how to see without their eyes early, as we often do not have light where we go." He held his hand out towards her. "You have taught me to feel the heartbeat of the world around me. Allow me to teach you to hear its voice." Standing patiently, he waited for the several minutes she sat silently still, considering his offer. Eventually, she held out her hand. He clasped it reassuringly as he drew her to her feet.

  Chapter 15

  Crying out as he awoke abruptly from a nightmare, Ash sat upright in bed, heart pounding and clenching the bed sheets. He forced himself to calm when Storm leaned close, putting her hand over his heart as she knelt by the bed. He covered her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "I am fine, Aelia. Go back to sleep."

  "I have slept as much as I need for now." Her anger radiated from her like the desert sun. "This is the seventh night in a row bad dreams torment you. They have given you no peace to finish recovering properly from the ordeal to get here." She got to her feet, her dark copper skin gleaming in the faint glow of moonlight from the window. "Almek must do something about this. I will not stand by and watch you and the others suffer without--"

  Admiring the svelte beauty of his lifemate's body as she sightlessly headed towards the door with unerring direction, Ash could not help but be amused at the utter lack of self-consciousness she had about her nudity. He got out of bed and quickly caught up to her, putting his arms around her waist from behind and pulled her close against him. "Let me go!" she demanded, but did not struggle much in his embrace.

  Resting his cheek against her hair, he assured, "Beloved, I will be fine. The Guardians warned being here in Fortress's shadow would be unsettling until we were accepted by their goddess. The testing is why we wait here instead of immediately beginning the completion of our training. It is Guardian tradition."

  Storm sighed, leaning back against him. "I do not like it. I do not care if it is tradition! I hate knowing all of you suffer." She turned around in his arms to embrace him tightly. "Especially when I do not and can do nothing for you. If I shared your suffering..." She fell silent when he put his fingers over her lips gently.

  "No, beloved, do not wish for such a thing. I am grateful you do not suffer this." Ash whispered just above her ear. "You perplex Unsvet Jaison, you know. That you are untouched by nightmares."

  "That is his problem," Storm stated curtly. "I do not care about him. I care about you and the others. My tribe. You are all that matters to me right now." Embracing him fiercely tight, she added in a small voice, "You are all that I have."

  Tracing the lines of her face tenderly, Ash could not help but worry. "But Unsvet Jaison indicated that the nightmares are part of the testing. If you are not tested..."

  Turning her face upwards towards his, the infinite sadness in her expression made his heart lurch in his chest. "There is nothing that could haunt me in my sleep that does not already haunt me when I am awake, Ash." She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. "If only I could spare you from what troubles you."

  Ash leaned down to kiss Storm, holding her fiercely tight. "My Swordanzen," he murmured affectionately. "I will try to sleep again. But if you are going to stalk the common room and halls, you should wear some clothing. Three of the servants have been disciplined for allowing themselves to be distracted." Caressing her hair, he smiled. "Not everyone is used to seeing others nude. And with beauty such as yours, they cannot help themselves."

  Storm snorted softly. "I am not beautiful. I am a Swordanzen. And I am not ashamed of the scars that mark the battles I have survived." But she conceded to his request, dressing in her desert half tunic and loincloth before donning her many weapons. Thusly attired, she turned and made her way out.

  Watching her, Ash laughed silently as he returned to bed. "I feel sorry for those poor servants," he said to himself as he pulled the blanket up to go back to sleep.

  Chapter 16

  Mureln sat with head in his hands at the common room table while Taylin poured some wine for him. "By the tides, I do not think I have ever felt this muzzy headed. Not even after that solid sevenday of tavern hopping with Emil and Emaris years ago." Taylin put the glass in front of him as she joined him, her expression filled with concern. "How long did you have to suffer this?" he asked wearily.

  "I lost track of time," the healer confessed. "Perhaps two or three days. It varies from person to person, but I have never heard anyone speak of longer than five. There should be some indication of whether you're accepted or not by now." She sighed, putting her hand on his bare shoulder. "It is the first test of a Guardian. I cannot fathom why--"

  Both looked up as Storm emerged from her and Ash's room, padding to the clear space by the garden pool. She paused, taking a deep breath, then began a weaponless training routine. The motions were slow, precise, and focused. "Thank gods they have bypassed Storm," the bard murmured. "She is bad enough when she's agitated in normal circumstances, much less exhausted." The bard glanced over his shoulder at a disagreeable sound, nodding to the Vodani Unsvet as he joined them.

  "The dreams should not have passed her by," Jaison stated, looking as if he had only just awoken from sleep as well, barefoot and wearing only trousers. He wa
tched Storm, arms crossed as he scowled at her. "I do not understand why she remains untouched by the nightmares. It is very irregular. Not even the Dusvet can explain the anomaly."

  Mureln drained the glass of wine, setting it down tiredly. "You may understand Desanti better than anyone else here, but you do not understand Storm." Pushing himself to his feet, he looked pityingly at Jaison. "I think you have been away from the Vodani people for far too long, lost the touch of the Psia Re. You should visit Home Port to remember your heritage." He held his hand out to Taylin. "Come, my love. Let's try this sleep thing again."

  Jaison frowned as he watched the pair return to their room, then turned his regard to Storm. He moved to sit on one of the benches by the pool, eyes never leaving the young woman as she continued, seemingly oblivious to his attention. He finally spoke in rough Desanti. "You are one of the na'Zhekali tribe."

  Storm froze for several heartbeats before resuming the routine to its completion. She turned her attention on him then, fixing her sightless eyes on him with an expression that was hard and angry. "I am Swordanzen. If you understand my people, then you should know what being Swordanzen means." She turned away to begin another unarmed training routine. "I have no tribe."

  "Untrue. You consider Almek's other students as your tribe," Jaison pointed out. She fixedly ignored him. "You count them as family. Enough to offer your life to protect an outlander woman's child with the blood crystal." She stopped again, this time narrowing her attention on him. "I am familiar with the blood crystal she wears, yes. I can sense you and your th'yala are tied to it, and through it to her child."

  "You are Guardian," Storm stated in clipped tones. "Scry the elements if I fascinate you so much." She resumed her routine, bare feet scarcely making a sound as she stepped through the progressively complex motions. "I have no desire to talk."

  Aggrieved, Jaison snapped, "I have tried. Around you? I see nothing. I just sense a tangle of... sensations and emotions at best." He rose and approached, wary of where she struck at invisible opponents. "Blocking Guardians' visions of you or the nightmares may prove your guardian strength, but not whether you are mentally capable of bearing the burdens of being a Guardian."

  With a growl, Storm stopped a strike just short of his chest, scowling up at him. "Do not speak to me of burdens. You know nothing about burdens."

  "You are but a child," Jaison informed her pointedly. "Gifted, perhaps, but--" He caught her wrist as she tried to slap him. "Still a child." They stood motionless, like two territorial predators facing one another. Without warning, Storm shifted and flipped him over her shoulder onto his back before he could react. He groaned in pain from the landing on the hard marble floor. The next thing he knew, her knee was in his chest, one hand cocked as if she would rip his throat out.

  Trembling with restraint, her shaking hand looked more like claws as she held back what he knew would have been a death blow. "Lord Almek may trust you," Storm hissed, "but I do not. If you are what it means to be a Guardian, I do not care if I never become one." She jabbed her knee harder into his chest as she got up. "I am Githalin Swordanzen. That is all I need to be able to fulfill my Blood Oath to Lord Almek."

  "Blood Oath?" Jaison asked in shock as he pushed himself up, rubbing his chest. "You gave Almek Blood Oath?!" Storm did not reply, stalking away. He chased after her, grabbing her arm. He barely managed to grab her other wrist, her knife glittering in the moon light. "You are fast," he admitted through clenched teeth.

  "I have lived this long because I am the best warrior alive." There was no pride, no bragging in Storm's voice, nothing but a bitterness that perplexed the Unsvet Guardian.

  "The na'Zhekali have protected and served only Desantiva since long before the Great War," Jaison stated in a low voice. "Served the Heart of Desantiva before all else. Even if Almek is a Dusvet Guardian, how could you give your Blood Oath to an outlander?!"

  Her expression altered slightly, confusion blunting her hostility. "How can you know of the na'Zhekali tribe? Nothing of our tribes is spoken of to either outlanders or foreigners. Especially not of the na'Zhekali. It is forbidden!"

  Jaison closed his eyes with a sigh, shoulders sagging slightly. "I can tell by your appearance. The na'Zhekali are very distinctive, unlike any other Desanti tribe. My father, Githalin Swordanzen Hunter il'Thandar, was born of the na'Zhekali tribe." He looked at Storm when she took several steps away from him in a panic. Confused concern displaced his grief. "Storm...?"

  Shaking her head, Storm's voice was agonized. "No. No! That is not possible. Desanti did not leave Desantiva before Skyfire and I... You cannot be Desanti. Not na'Zhekali! They would have known. Stopped you if you were Desanti..." She shook her head sharply. "You lie! Hunter died six generations ago. You-you cannot be..."

  Flinching, Jaison confessed, "I am only... half Desanti. My mother was a Vodani weather wisdom." He took a step forward, reaching for her hand. "I am over a century old, Githalin Swordanzen." He searched her face as he whispered, "The na'Zhekali...?" The moment he clasped her hand, he gasped as a flash of emotions and images burst into his mind without warning, staggering him.

  Pulling away from the Unsvet, Storm backed a few steps away, bumping into one of the benches. "I am not na'Zhekali! The na'Zhekali tribe is extinct! I am Swordanzen! Only Swordanzen!" she snapped at him before turning and fleeing back to her room, leaving Jaison on his knees, holding his head.

  "Unsvet Jaison!" Ophilia emerged from the opposite hall and ran to his side. "Unsvet Jaison, what happened? What did that savage do to you?" She examined him as if searching for a physical wound to explain his pain.

  The Unsvet finally opened his eyes, looking to where Storm had disappeared. "Nothing you need worry about." Grimacing, he said, "Get me some willow bark, Adept. I am going to have a splitting headache soon."

  Ophilia frowned, looking down the hall. "I cannot believe she hurt you!" She looked down in surprise as Jaison grabbed her wrist, restraining her from instinctively following Storm. "But, Unsvet! She attacked a Guardian! That goes against--"

  Jaison shook his head. "She did nothing of the sort. She shared a memory of something... Something no one should ever have to know." Soberly, he said more to himself, "especially not a six year old child."

  "She shared a memory? Without using water to buffer?" Ophilia was equally jealous and outraged. "She might have harmed you, being so impulsive! All the more reason she must be dealt with--"

  "Stop arguing with me!" Jaison snapped, glaring up at Ophilia. "It is not your place to deal with the Dusvet's students. And Swordanzen Storm did not harm me."

  Ophilia nodded, subdued. "Yes, Unsvet." She looked up to study his profile as he grimaced and rubbed his temples. "You are certain you are unharmed?"

  Jaison sighed heavily, closing his eyes. "Absolutely certain. But I suspect why Storm has not been tested is because--" He looked up as Ash stalked out of his and Storm's room with barely restrained fury. Rising from the bench he sat at with Ophilia, he simply stood there with quiet resignation. Without a word spoken, Ash drew back and punched Jaison square in the jaw. The man fell back, hitting his head on the hard marble step behind him. Jaison groaned, pushing himself to sit up.

  "Unsvet!" Ophilia said in alarm. She looked as though she wanted to do something against Ash, to say something, but when her eyes fell on the braid of colors on his clenched fist, she could not move herself to do so.

  "If you ever hurt Storm again," Ash informed the Unsvet coldly, "I will ensure you regret it until the end of time." With that, the Illaini Magus turned on his heel and returned to his room. The slamming of the door echoed down the hall.

  "They've all gone insane," Ophilia declared as she went to Jaison's side. "I cannot believe they would attack a Guardian of Time! First the Desanti woman and now Illaini Magus Ash--!?" She got to her feet immediately, bowing to Almek as he approached. The Dusvet absently acknowledged the Adept as he studied Jaison intently.

  "You confronted Storm, didn't you?" Almek asked simp
ly, offering his hand to Jaison to help him to his feet. "Ophilia, go bring some of the good drink, would you? No doubt the others will want something stronger than wine this morning. And willow bark for Jaison. No doubt he's got a raging headache." He waited until the girl was gone before giving Jaison his attention. "I did warn you they were lifemates, in every sense the old stories speak of. Upsetting one is upsetting both. And neither are without formidable skills. Ash is not representative of today's Forenten mages."

  "After what she showed me, I expected he would react to my upsetting her. But his temper and behavior is hardly typical of any Forentan I'd ever known. Much more physically expressive. And he is better than I would have expected," Jaison confessed, rubbing his jaw. "Most mages I ever knew were skilled in magic, but physically..." He waggled his hand. "They were usually lacking."

  Sighing, he looked at Almek. "Storm could go test now, you know. Ash as well. They've enough to earn a place as Unsvets at least. A word from you to the Timeless One would bypass the need for them to endure the uncertainty of being an Adept. Why risk one of the traditionalists getting their hands on them? Especially Storm."

  "I am not worried about the traditionalists getting their hands on her," Almek stated. "I expect her to get her hands on them. Besides, I have higher expectations for them. Certainly they are more than tempered enough to succeed one of the two final tests to become Guardians with little effort."

  Jaison frowned at Almek. "You expect them to become Dusvet Guardians? How? There have been no new dual-marked Guardians for nearly three hundred years! Just because they are gifted in--"