by Lexy Wolfe
Repressing a smile, Terrence dramatically wiggled a finger in the ear closest to Ophilia. "If you learned the basics of magic in school, you should have no trouble with most of the techniques to manipulate time." When the Forentan woman turned red and looked away, his smile faded. "You never learned them?"
"I tried," Ophilia said defensively, then sighed. "But I just never got it. So they dismissed me as useless and turned me to the mundane apprenticeships. I couldn't stand it. I wanted more than-than being a servant would allow me. My mother worked her whole life to reach where she is now, but I just couldn't wait that long for the chance I would be lucky enough to work for someone who would indulge my curiosity."
Terrence frowned at her words. "They discourage learning based on whether you can manipulate magic energy?" He suddenly hissed through his teeth, clenching his right hand while covering it with his left.
She looked up, then down to his hand. Hesitantly reaching out, she stopped before actually daring to touch his Illaini mark. "It hurts? I never realized--"
"Not... usually. Only when the Knowing One is upset. She listens into my thoughts now and then." With a tight smile, he uncovered his hand, holding it out to her. "You may touch it."
She paused a moment longer before lightly brushing one finger on the metallic tattoo and pulling back in anticipation of being burned. When there was no pain, she did so again, then covered the back of his hand with hers. "It is... cool to the touch. Does it feel that way to you?"
"It is... difficult to describe. I expect one day, I will not notice it anymore than I pay attention to my clothing once I have been wearing it for a while. But for now... yes. It feels cool, but alive. It ties me to the Knowing One." Regarding the gold and green twined colors, he said softly, "It is soothing because I can feel Her touch, sometimes even hear Her voice in my mind. Especially when she is reminding me that I am no longer... nothing." Sitting up straight, he said, "Ash and I both often must take time alone to meditate and align ourselves with Her to keep our minds clear. The Githalin must do so similarly with their Totani."
Ophilia's eyes went wide as she covered her mouth, aghast. "Oh, goddess, I didn't disrupt your communing with the Great Mother, did I?! I am so sorry! I didn't mean to--"
"Do not worry, Adept Ophilia, I was not communing with Her just now. I prefer to go into the forests and feel the breath of the trees on my face when I do. I was just sitting here thinking." They fell silent, both looking back to the fountain. "I find it odd. A god with a water creature body calling a place so far from the Vodanya home."
"Some say that a very long time ago, the Vodanya touched the foot of Fortress." Ophilia shifted to sit a little closer to the young Illaini. "Others say there is a tunnel deep beneath the ground that joins the Vodanya to here. I have looked sometimes in the archives, but there is nothing about why she has a mythical creature's form." She looked at Terrence. "Did you find anything?"
"I have asked as well as looked. Most have told me I should just accept it and not question the Timeless One," Terrence replied blandly. He looked at the stone in his hand, rubbing it absently with his thumb. "Apparently they do not care to have things questioned if the answers are too difficult to find. I thought there would have been more... open-mindedness among Guardians than among our people."
"It is rather annoying, yes," Ophilia agreed. "But not all Guardians are like that. Mostly the more stubborn Forenta-born or occasional Sevmana-born. There are more who would love to know why the Timeless One rules here from a mountain and not in the ocean, but they just do not know how to find out and the Timeless One is not inclined to tell anyone." She sighed heavily. "And most Guardians who would care have other duties."
He looked towards the fountain again. "Do you like it here, Ophilia? Have you found some place you can call home?"
The young woman sighed, looking away. "I think so? I am not sure. I am just an Adept. I am not nearly as advanced as you and the others are." She closed her eyes. "I left home because being lowborn, and with no gifts, I had hoped I could learn more. When Jaison found me, he made it sound like it would be such an adventure!"
"And now you feel stifled and inadequate?" Terrence put his right hand on her knee, squeezing. "It must feel very wearisome, but you must have a gift. You wouldn't have been accepted by the Unseen if you did not."
Ophilia looked at Terrence, her frustration showing. "They used to say the same thing about me back home about magic, but I have been here for nearly two years! You and the others you came with are so close to earning your colors while I'm just stumbling along barely able to scry." She sighed softly. "You are all god-touched or--"
"Not all of us have been god-touched, Ophilia," Terrence said firmly. "Being chosen to serve the gods has less to do with raw talent than it does with an unselfish desire to serve them. And becoming a master has more to do with learning to be strong than inborn strength." When she looked up at him, he shrugged. "I learned more traveling with Master Ash than I ever did at the Academy. I've only been Illaini a short time."
"Really?" Ophilia was as dubious as she was hopeful.
"Yes. Here, you are safe and protected. Out there," Terrence said, waving towards the main gates. "It is not safe. It is do or die. People might get hurt or die but for what you do or don't do, unlike here where it likely doesn’t feel like it matters nearly so much." He smiled thinly. "You would be amazed what you can do when you have to do it and you've no time to doubt if you can."
The Forentan woman was silent for a time. "Did Adept Storm really change a rodent into a lizard for the Dahla?" Ophilia asked in a whisper. When he nodded, her eyes widened. "B-but... she didn't have to... did she? The Dahlas can be harsh but even most Unsvets cannot do something like..."
Terrence sighed, looking back at the stone in his hand. "In Storm's mind, she had to. Dahla Morria has a bias against the Desanti like so many others here have. Morria wasn't even going to assess them until Ash and I questioned her, and then when she did, she gave them tasks no normal adept could have accomplished. She demanded Skyfire to turn a rock to dust. And she wanted Storm to kill the rodent. To prove that Desanti are cold-hearted murderers."
"I would have thought a Desanti would have no problem with killing something," Ophilia said matter-of-factly. "They are ki-," She broke off at his raised eyebrow and cleared her throat. "Er, warriors. Isn't that what warriors... you know. Do?"
"That seems to be a common assumption," Terrence said resignedly. "Storm is a skilled warrior. And if she believes it is necessary, she will kill without hesitation. But being a skilled warrior does not equate to simply being a killer." He looked back at Ophilia. "Storm does nothing in half measure. If you would see what our ancestors had done to Desantiva..." He shook his head, looking away. "The Desanti would have every right to want revenge. All they want is respect and to be left alone."
"You have been to Desantiva," Ophilia mused. Moving to sit on the edge of the fountain, she said, "Show me? I want to see the truth of things so I can understand."
Terrence considered for a moment then nodded, moving to sit by her. As she cupped his hands, he lowered his into the water, closing his eyes to share the memories of the harsh desert, traveling through it. He felt her flinch when he remembered coming to the Vi'disa tribe lands, the confusion of Dzee's memories of Desantiva before and the devastation it was now.
"Oh, my gods," Ophilia whispered. "Desantiva used to look like Forenta? And now there is not even... And the animals... they all got... so twisted?" She looked at Terrence, her eyes wide in horror. "We... we did that?"
"Our ancestors," Terrence corrected gently, remembering Emil's lecture so long ago in the Raging One's home of the Rumblelands. "Not us. A wise man told me not to take the blame for others' mistakes, just to do what is right. We are better than that." He smiled sadly, touching her chin with his fingertips. "To the Desanti, everything is a matter of survival. Everything. Because their lives are so short. They cannot afford to procrastinate, not to put heart and soul into ev
erything they do and feel." Looking up at the statue, he murmured, "To die well is their ultimate hope because living long so very rarely happens, it is considered an impossible dream."
Ophilia was silent, biting her knuckle. "But you still feel responsible for what happened to Desantiva. At least a little." She shook her head. "It seems odd that your path led you to Desantiva, when it has never been thought about for so long."
The Illaini Magus shrugged one shoulder. "When I was younger, all I wanted was to belong. After Ash chose me to be his apprentice, all I wanted was to prove I was worthy. To be chosen to be the Illaini Magus' first apprentice! I just... I was so afraid I would disappoint him." Terrence smiled lopsidedly. "When I saw Desantiva, saw what they suffered because of our people's hate, all the fears and concerns I had for myself were so meaningless. I wanted to help them. To try to fix what had been done because it was just wrong. No living being deserved what they suffered through."
"What do you want now?" Ophilia wondered, watching him. "Are you here because you don't want to help Desantiva anymore?
"I still want to help Desantiva, but not just them any longer. Since I have traveled with Dusvet Almek, I have seen that the Great War was part of a greater war. It is more than just about Forenta and Desantiva. It's about all of us." Terrence reached out to let the fountain pour onto one hand. "We can't expect someone else to protect us if we are not willing to stand up and do something about it, too."
Ophilia considered for a time and said slowly, "I never really thought about it like that. Back home, everyone knew that it was the duty of mages to guide and protect Forenta. And everyone else served the goddess by serving the mages. Not that serving mages isn’t respectful or anything. But I wasn't suited to that life. I wanted to learn about everything! I didn't really care about magic, just... I wanted to know about everything mages learned about the world." She sighed, closing her eyes. "But while I was sensitive to magic, I have absolutely no talent to manipulate it. Only real mages can learn."
"I wonder if Se'edai Magus Ellis has any idea how perverted Her ideals have become." Terrence shook his head. "If you are sensitive to the energy of Forentan magic, then you have the talent for it. The problem could simply be you never had a teacher who could help you understand…" Squeezing her hand, he offered, "I could teach you."
"I wouldn't be very strong," Ophilia argued, the momentary excitement about learning dampened by years of disappointment and failure. "I'm lowborn."
"So am I. Believe me, some of the less agreeable members of the Edai Tredecima have done everything they could to prove I was a highborn's bastard to discount the possibility that with enough work, anyone could become a mage. But I am not, I am truly lowborn. Everyone gets stronger with practice, highborn or lowborn," Terrence pointed out. "But without both purpose and desire, you will never achieve greatness." He smiled a little. "You desire to learn. Put purpose to your desire and you can achieve whatever you want. Or more than you ever dreamed of."
Ophilia smiled warmly. "Is that wisdom from the Great Mother?"
"Some. Something I learned over the past few years since Ash took me in." Terrence stood, holding Ophilia's hand, his voice inviting. "Come on. Maybe I can pass along some of the magus training techniques that might help with the Guardian skills. That'll show Meredith and Dremmen both they are being idiots."
"But what if I--?" She fell silent when he put his fingers on her lips, then smiled. "Right. Purpose and desire." Hand in hand, they headed towards the main tunnel.
Nearby, Meredith glowered after the pair from the shadow of a building. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Dremmen put a hand on her shoulder. "I thought I told you I wanted that dog's Adept gone from here a month ago," he stated coldly. "I can't use her failure to discredit him or the Dulain if she is still here!"
"We are trying!" Meredith snapped back at him. Not meeting his eyes, she complained, "Ever since the Dulain convinced the council to change the rules that Adepts had to leave their training voluntarily instead of being judged unfit, it has made things more difficult. The bitch is incredibly stubborn!"
She gasped when Dremmen twisted her arm behind her, hissing in her ear. "Well, now that 'bitch' has an Illaini Magus tutoring her! There could be another dual-talented abomination within the walls of Sanctuary! We could be relegated to second class members of Her order. Less regarded than mundane pets! Is that what you want?"
Meredith shook her head, squirming uncomfortably. "N-no, Unsvet Dremmen. Of-of course not." She stumbled a few steps when he shoved her away. She looked back, shoulders slumped as she rubbed her arm, flinching as he seethed at her.
"You are as useless as your brethren. You failed to get rid of Benilus so I would be named to the Dulain's second--"
"Donu did as you told him and it got him killed!" Meredith shot back, flinching when he raised his hand to backhand her. "It was the Desanti! They... the woman! She-she brokered a truce with the dragons and then the goddess stripped him of Her blessing." Dremmen scowled darkly for so long, Meredith fell to her knees. "Please, Dremmen. I would never betray our faction. I won't fail you. We will see Sanctuary purified!"
"Fine. You have one more chance to prove yourself." Jabbing a finger upwards, Dremmen said in icy tones, "Start with the healer. You should be able to manage getting rid of a pregnant pacifist. Her loss should be a suitable distraction to the rest to make it easier ridding ourselves of them." Waving a dismissive hand, he said, "Get out of my sight, you worthless dolt." Meredith nodded and scurried away.
Chapter 16
Stopping by the central fountain, Mureln quickly removed his cloak, folding and placing it for Taylin to sit on. Emil and Emaris hovered around her as much 'nervous fathers' as Mureln had become. She sighed gustily as she rubbed her very swollen abdomen. "Oh, gods bless, my back is killing me today." With a fond smile turned towards her belly, she said, "It is not your fault, dear one. It is just a very long walk from home."
"You are a very stubborn woman," Mureln informed his wife, eyes looking over her with worry. "Lana said it is getting very close to time. You should be--"
"By Zeridis, all three of you! Stop worrying so much. I am fine, and the baby is fine," Taylin assured with a quiet laugh. "I just need to rest a little, that's all."
Emaris shook Emil's shoulder, signing to him briefly as he waved a hand towards Taylin. The smaller gypsy chuckled, albeit nervously. "Emaris says he'd be happy t'carry ye, Taylin. Ye are just a little bit of a thing. Wouldna be no trouble."
"Yes, let the brute carry you, Master Healer," a sarcastic voice said. Meredith and her two usual companions paused in their stroll across the courtyard. "Nothing too good for the Dusvet's pet healer, after all." Taylin flushed and frowned, averting her eyes without responding.
Emaris scowled, baring his teeth as he took a step towards the group, fists balled. The Unsvets took an involuntary step backwards. Emil hurried over to step between his brother and the group, arms held out wide. "Hey, now! Why don’t ye just be gettin' about t' yer business an' we will be keepin' t' ours."
"You should not be here," Meredith said sharply, crossing her arms. "Gypsy dogs and masters of other talents belong out there. God-touched especially belong out there. This is where the Timeless One rules."
"Why?"
The Unsvets looked sharply at the bard, confused and defensive. "What do you mean, 'why'? Why what?"
Mureln got to his feet, putting a hand on Emaris's other shoulder until the large man relaxed, crossing his arms. "Certainly, the gods have their own children and realms they rule, but why could you, a servant of the Timeless One, not seek the aid of the Knowing One? All things are possible to the divine, so why not there be those who can touch more than one energy?"
Meredith laughed sarcastically. "Because it is just not done! There have never been masters who became Guardians, and the god-touched--"
Mureln's expression held no anger, no irritation. There was only a heartfelt pity. "Have we all become so narrow-minded that we cann
ot even imagine new possibilities? That perhaps we all possess more potential than we have always been led to believe possible? Guardians, of all of us, are who we trust to remain without bigotry, to discover that which those with shorter lives cannot." Mureln closed his eyes, shaking his head. "We shame all the gods, especially our own."
The Sevmanan woman flushed and sputtered incoherently, turning on her heel and stalking off. Two of the others followed her after a moment's hesitation.
"Master Bard?" Mureln looked at Benilus, the tall man looking uncertain. "Do you... truly think our goddess would accept...?"
Smiling warmly, Mureln waved grandly to the edge of the fountain across from Taylin. "My friend, I know it for a fact. Come sit with us. Perhaps stories of how we discovered our own abilities to touch time and our own... specialties might help you discover them within yourself."
The Unsvet snorted at the idea, but he did not sound certain. "I can assure you, I have no talents beyond those of a Guardian." He held his hand out to Mureln, the bard accepting it with a firm grip and warm smile. "There are many who... they still deny that it is even possible for someone to embrace two energies at all. But I was with Jaison when the Dusvet returned and--"
Emil's eyes lit up. "Oh, yeah! I thought ye looked familiar!" The gypsy grinned roguishly. "Ye had th' nice boots."
Benilus simply blinked uncomprehendingly at Emil long enough for Taylin to have to hide her smile behind her hand. "You noticed... my boots?"
"Well, of course, lad. Best judge of a man is by what he's gots on his feet. An' I ain't talkin' about them fishwife tales 'bout th' size of a man's feet, neither." Emil waved at Benilus' feet. "Yer boots are well made, so ye know th' worth of good work. But they ain't gaudy, so ye got sense. They be worn, but well cared for, so ye be willin' t' do fer yerself and ye take care of th' things that take care of ye, too." Nodding, the wiry gypsy said, "Good, honest boots fer a good, honest man."