by Lexy Wolfe
"Six phases of the greater moon," Storm replied simply. "Never longer than that."
Both women turned to stare at Storm with a mixture of amazement and dismay. "Six months? That is all?" Lana asked incredulously.
"Oh, Zeridis, now I understand why you and Skyfire have been so overprotective lately!" With Lana's examination done, Taylin went to Storm, clasping one of the young woman's hands reassuringly. "I promise you, I am fine and so is my son." She touched the blood crystal pendant. "You would know if there was anything wrong."
"I know. It is just--" Storm began uncertainly when Lana interrupted.
"Since the birth is getting so close, we should be arranging for a family to foster your child." Lana looked surprised at the expressions of Storm and Taylin both. "Well, the child certainly cannot remain with you, Master Healer. All Adept and Guardian children must be raised with normals."
"I have to give up my son?" Taylin whispered, choking on a sob, staggering back to lean against the wall, Storm putting a supporting arm around her with worry. "I can't... I can't even know my own children?"
Storm glared at Lana. "That is barbaric!"
Lana looked at Storm. "The Dulain said you Desanti are all about holding to traditions. Having Guardian children raised by non-Guardians is a long-standing tradition."
"No." Storm moved to stand between Lana and a stricken Taylin. "Taylin's son will remain with his parents."
"Be reasonable," Lana cajoled. "Once you are Guardians, you will outlive any of your offspring unless they follow your path, which is no guarantee. It would be better for everyone if the child had a normal life."
Hand dropping to the hilt of her sword, Storm stated implacably, "Get out." When Lana opened her mouth to argue, the sword came out, glittering in the light. "Out! Now!" The Desanti stalked after Lana as the midwife hurriedly exited the room. The others looked over in alarm as Storm followed the woman to the tunnel archway, stopping at the threshold, but remaining there until the woman was well out of sight.
"What's going on?" Mureln hurried to Taylin as she appeared at the bedroom doorway. He became alarmed when he saw the tears in her eyes. Hushing her, he drew her against him, holding her tightly. "Beloved, what's wrong? Why--?"
"Lana s-said," Taylin stammered between sobs, clinging to Mureln, "she said we can't keep... we can't keep our child when he's born." She looked up to meet the bard's stricken eyes. "That he should be raised by... by normal parents, not Guardians."
"I will kill anyone who attempts to take your child away," Storm growled, eyes fixed on the tunnel archway Lana had fled through. Skyfire's alarm and agitation was no less than Storm's the moment the idea the baby would be taken sank in.
Emil, Emaris and Jaison had fallen silent the moment Lana emerged in a panic and had remained quiet as they listened. Jaison paled at Storm's dire promise and swore under his breath. "Almek should have explained this to all of you before convincing you to become his students. But I suppose he did not want to give you any reason to decline becoming a Guardian, as desperate as he had been to find you. Outliving anyone, especially one's children is... one of the less pleasant aspects of being a Guardian."
"So, because children may not live as long as their parents, they are removed?" Mureln asked in patent disapproval.
Jaison looked at the group apologetically. "Yes, because you have no idea how difficult it is to be nearly immortal, watching the ones you love grow old and feeble and waste away. Even though there are some few normals who live temporarily in Sanctuary, like Lana, and a few Guardians who dwell in Sharindel, it is considered wiser to minimize interaction. Most Guardians do not keep their children but give them to a trusted family in Sharindel to raise."
"You said most do not keep them." Mureln looked at Taylin as she blinked up at him, her despair giving way to hope at his arguing tone. "That indicates some do?"
"It is very rare." Jaison looked at Storm and said more to her than anyone, "It has become a custom that some see as a rule. No one will forcibly take the baby. But they will... be difficult with you about keeping it."
"'It' is a male child," Storm stated tonelessly, finally sheathing her sword and crossing her arms. "You should be able to see for yourself the child is male, especially this far along. Both Vodani and Desanti have the ability and you are strengthening your Desanti side."
Jaison glanced back towards the tunnel as Tyrsan entered. The large man was flushed from his dead run to reach the dormitory. "Yes, sorry, I saw, but--"
Storm followed his gaze and the sword came out again. "No one is taking that child. Not now, not ever!" She met the Dulain's eyes unwaveringly, her posture promising violence. "I will not allow it."
"Put your weapon up, Adept," Tyrsan ordered curtly. "Now!" To everyone's relief and surprise, Storm finally obeyed after several tense heartbeats, but her posture only shifted to an unarmed stance of readiness. "Come with me, Adept Storm." He did not move for several minutes until the Desanti woman finally relented and moved to join him, keeping to the opposite side of the hall from him.
"I really hope she doesn't draw her sword on him again," Jaison said in a low voice. Looking at the tunnel the two had disappeared down, he groaned. "Goddess, I hope someone else gets to explain this to Ash." The others murmured in agreement.
Chapter 10
Neither Tyrsan nor Storm spoke as they walked to the communal bathing cavern. The vivid blue-white glow of naturally occurring moon stones lit the depths of the wide pool of warm water. The burly man stopped to watch Storm as she walked in after him, his arms crossed. Ignoring him, she kicked off her shoes and stepped into the water, and then sat on a rock not far from the dry edge.
Tyrsan watched her in silence for several minutes, drumming his fingers on his arm. "I cannot have you threatening the normals from the village, Adept. It is a delicate balance we must maintain. It would be easy for them to resent us for our longevity."
Storm looked up, the bluish light giving her green-gold eyes an eerie appearance. "I will not stand by and allow one of my tribe to be stolen away. Especially not the child that Skyfire and I had nearly died for while protecting Lord Almek. If the Timeless One has a problem with that..." She paused, drawing her two-edged sword. "Then She can discuss it with me directly."
The Dulain studied Storm in silence for a time. "You are absolutely fearless, aren't you?" She only narrowed her eyes, remaining silent as she slid the weapon back into its sheath. Seeing his normal tactic of dominating wills would not work with the Desanti woman, he shifted to a more reassuring tone. "I assure you, no one will take the child from them. You have my word of honor to that. It is a tradition, not an edict of our goddess."
Storm seemed unmoved, continuing to watch him intently before she finally looked away towards the water, reaching down to swirl her fingertips lightly in the warm liquid. "Your word is acceptable. I will hold you responsible if it is otherwise."
"What am I going to do with you?" Tyrsan asked rhetorically as he sat on the large rock at the edge of the water, studying her profile. She only looked up to meet his eyes briefly before looking back to the water. "I cannot fault you for being protective of your... tribe. But how do I teach you not to lead with your sword whenever you are in conflict with another."
"How else should I lead?" Storm demanded flatly. "In Desantiva, I was given respect because I was Named Githalin Swordanzen. When I spoke, people did not dismiss my words simply because I looked young or was younger than they. I earned the right to carry my swords. None of my people questioned our god or His servant's choice, so long as I proved myself worthy to hold the swords with every challenge made to me.
"But since I left Desantiva. Everywhere else. When people look at me... everyone in these Northern lands sees a child and dismisses everything about me as a joke. They see someone who is too young to know anything, as if my trials were meaningless simply because my years are fewer than theirs. Even Lord Almek treats me as a child, but he is ancient so I try very hard to not become upset with
him."
Drawing her two-edged sword, she held it point upwards. "They do not challenge me, so I challenge them. This makes them listen to me. It makes them take me seriously." Putting the blade away, she stated, "They do not hear me if I am not angry. They do not hear me if I do not threaten them. They will not take me seriously if I fail to follow through with my threats." She seethed, "I tire of being patted on the head as if I were sun addled and dismissed as though I were meaningless. No one listens unless I threaten them!"
"I am listening to you," Tyrsan stated in even tones, his eyes not wavering from her. "And I understand. I remember what it was like being young and treated as if I had not earned the right to be considered a man." She looked at him, expression skeptical. "Before I was found by the Unsvet who brought me here, I was a soldier."
"I have heard this word before. Soldier. But there is the word warrior. I know they are different, but I do not understand how they are different." Storm sat forward slightly, elbows on her knees.
Tyrsan blinked a few times. "Well. A soldier is someone whose job it is to be a warrior for someone else. Their lord or king or some group like that." He tilted his head curiously. "You do not have soldiers in Desantiva?"
"You choose to be a soldier? And there are others who are not warriors at all?" Storm asked. When he nodded, she explained, "It is very different for my people. In Desantiva, all learn to fight. From the day a child can walk, they begin to learn the arts to survive." She sat up, moving her feet in the water a little. "There is no choice. To fail to learn how to fight is to die when you leave the tribe for your adult trials."
"I was barely more than a boy when I decided to become a soldier. There were many more conflicts between factions of Sevmana several hundred years ago." He looked down at his hands briefly before raising his tunic to show a very old, deep scar under his ribs. "During my first battle, I was run through. I survived only because a skilled healer much like Adept Taylin found me, bleeding to death. That moment changed me."
Tyrsan looked up again, meeting her eyes. "I was determined never to be so weak again. So I trained. I focused on mastering myself and my weapons. And I became one of the best warriors of all the soldiers." Closing his eyes, he said, "I did not know part of my prowess was because I had the gift of Guardian sight."
"You knew your enemy's moves before they did," Storm stated quietly.
Not smiling, Tyrsan nodded. "When my patrol encountered a time shifter, we had no idea what it was. It was unlike any battle we'd ever been in before. We didn't fight for glory or victory for our liege. We fought only for survival. I was the only one who did it any serious harm, but I had no knowledge of temporal energies or how to harness them. What little effect I had was sheer luck and raw instinct." Shrugging one shoulder, he said, "I got lucky again because a Guardian had been tracking the beast and dispatched it. He convinced me to come here." He smiled lopsidedly. "Of course, the Guardian said it was not luck, but fate that guided his path to cross mine."
Storm considered Tyrsan's words for many long moments. After a while, she countered with a simple, sad statement. "You had a choice. Your people have a choice. There is no choice for my people. There was no choice for me. All must know the warrior arts, even the most peaceful among us." Storm closed her eyes. "The patterns of my ancestors are a part of me. I might become more if the gods will it. But I cannot change who I am. To do that would dishonor the memories of all those who died before me."
Tyrsan considered the young woman. "You feel like Almek and the others do not respect what you are, that they want you to become more like them." She raised her eyes, studying him suspiciously. "Except for Skyfire, none of them truly understands what it means to be a warrior. They do not understand the heart of a warrior. That is why you almost turned away from coming here."
"Our ways are not the ways of the North." Storm closed her eyes. "Skyfire understands this as much as I, which is why we train away from others. We do not wish to make anyone uneasy or feel threatened. But if we do not train, we will lose our edge, and that would risk lives if we ever falter."
Holding her gaze, he stated, "I do not want to make you into something you are not and never could be, Storm il'Thandar. True warriors are as needed as scholars or crafters. I only wish you to learn new disciplines to help you deal with these softer souls who do not realize they need your strength and cannot face you as their equal otherwise."
Storm studied him silently for many long minutes. "You want something from me. From Skyfire and me both. What?" she asked matter-of-factly.
The Dulain laughed quietly. "You are very perceptive. Good." He smiled. "Yes, I want something from you. But I also want you both to expand your warrior discipline, to learn the patterns of the other lands. When you learn their patterns, you can compete honorably on their battlefields when they cannot face you on your own." He stood, regarding her as she fixed him with her predatory gaze. "There are many types of warriors. You should learn of them. Your potential should not be wasted."
"If I learn these disciplines you wish... you will tell me what you want?" Storm asked as she stood, walking out of the water to retrieve her shoes.
Tyrsan did not offer to pick up her shoes, simply waiting for her to put them on. "When the time is right, yes, I will tell you. I have waited hundreds of years for you and Skyfire to emerge from the deserts. I have learned patience."
The man smiled faintly as Storm said after some thought, "I see. Very well. I will make the attempt to learn these outlander warrior patterns from you."
Chapter 11
Unsvet Benilus stood in the room, arms crossed and fingers drumming impatiently. "Where are they?" he muttered. "Annoying as the Desanti are, it is not like them to be late." When the door opened, he opened his mouth to chide, then shut it again as he scowled when four other Unsvets entered instead. "Have you seen the Desanti?" he asked them tersely. "They are late for today's lesson."
The four traded bored looks and shrugged. "You should be pleased to have them out of your hair, Benilus," the woman said casually as she put her arm around his waist. "You kept saying mules were less stubborn and unyielding."
Irritable, Benilus pushed the woman away as he walked to the window. "You are not the one who has to answer to the Dulain, Meredith." He looked outside for the missing pair. "I think I was making progress despite their aversion to learning to read and write. The Dulain has been impatient to hear of progress."
Meredith made a disgusted noise, waving her hand dismissively. "Ever since those two animals showed up, the Dulain has been obsessed with them." She watched Benilus for a time. "You are his named second. You should not be afraid of telling him how wrong he is about trusting them."
"Meredith," Benilus began to chide when a loud roar shook the building. "Good gods, what was that?" he asked, running out before the other three could do more than react to the sound. He had scarcely gotten outside when he his legs were swept out from under him. He barely noticed the impact of falling flat on his back as a massive tail smashed into the wall and door right above him, debris raining down.
Skyfire flicked a brief look at Benilus, the Desanti's eyes strangely pure gold in color. Satisfied the man was unharmed, the Swordanzen whistled sharply and swung up onto the back of the drizzen as she ran by at breakneck speed. The desert mount sprang away lithely as a giant maw snapped at the air where the pair had been only a heartbeat before. The mottled, stone-like hide of a mountain dragon hissed against stone as it lunged after Skyfire and the drizzen.
Benilus looked up in shock when he heard the drizar shriek defiantly from the roof of the building. Standing beside him was Storm, her two single-edged blades drawn. He held his hand up to shield his eyes from the sun. "How in the hells did they get up--" His heart nearly stopped when a second, larger mountain dragon swooped down towards the pair. The drizar, metal-clad horns flashing, leapt over to another roof with impossible grace. Storm did not try to avoid the creature. Sheathing her weapons, she instead leapt onto its back.
Abruptly, the dragons stopped attacking, though their anger was a palpable sensation. The larger dragon's wings blew heavy gusts of air as it hovered, its eyes on the Swordanzen woman perched on its shoulders. The smaller of the massive beasts looked up at its companion, then down to Skyfire who sheathed his weapons, gesturing as he spoke.
The smaller dragon lowered its head to look more closely at Skyfire then snorted irritably as it sprang into the air and climbed into the sky. The larger swooped close to the building to let Storm jump off before joining the smaller dragon to circle above. The drizar joined Storm, waiting for her to mount before agilely bounding to the ground level as he bounced between the wall of two buildings to slow their descent.
"Where is the child murderer?" Storm demanded, glaring down at Benilus.
Benilus could only stare at the woman, oblivious to the drizar's threatening posture. "Child murderer? No one here has killed--" He took several steps backwards when the drizar shrieked angrily, his metal clad claws striking sparks on the stone road.
Skyfire joined Storm, looking intently at the Unsvet. "He does not know, Storm. There is no blackness staining his soul." Leaning down to thump the drizzen's neck soothingly, he looked at Benilus. "The dragons are a mated pair. Someone killed one of their young. They tracked the killer here."
Tyrsan ran up with several Unsvet guardsmen, all armed with swords. Unlike the men following him, he wasn't even winded from the run. He scowled as he caught Skyfire's words. "Guardians do not attack any living, mundane thing, human or beast, unless hunting for food or protecting themselves or others. It is one of the most basic edicts of the mistress."
Storm dismounted lightly, and though shorter than those gathered, her presence was no less formidable. "Then one of the Timeless One's followers has gone rogue, because dragons do not attack without cause." She glared at Tyrsan, pointing unerringly towards the dragons above. "I trust them more than any Guardian."