The Ways of Mages: Starfire

by Catherine Beery

  Kaizir says that you are a god of miracles. I desperately need a miracle right now. I am sorry if I have no right to ask something of you when we don’t really know each other, but please give me the strength to get them where they need to be. Please. With that Kairevasigh teleported.

  Chapter Thirteen- Tempest Dreams

  Arathin- Nirami’s Grave

  Thunder crashed about him, reverberating through his bones. Kaishan never saw it coming. Not a minute ago, the sky had been clear night. He had been returning from his five day scouting trip. One couldn’t stay long from one’s people; definitely if those people were a power hungry lot. He couldn’t believe it now. The storm had him and it was a cruel master. He should have remembered the Nirami’s storms. He should have focused on his surroundings and not his memory of the rider he had attacked. Wrong. The memory of the rider was but a passing thought. No, what had occupied his mind was the location of the dragons. Blood lust had risen in him at the wrong time. It would be a costly mistake, for no one took the Grave lightly.

  Sound crashed about him, pelting him with rain. He gasped. He had seen the boiling puddles of the Nirami’s Grave. He had thought that they boiled because the rock was hot. He was greatly mistaken. He knew that now as the rain beat upon him. It itself was hot, burning hot.

  The pain became his enemy. Kaishan struggled against his body’s traitorous wish of turning to its human form. His flesh was provided with a tiny bit of protection by his thick feathers. Scant protection against this enraged storm, but they were better than clothes and bare flesh. Shame beat at him. His body was used to flying through storms. Be it weather’s rage or arrows and magic. Never once had his body weakened enough to want to change. Never. What was it about this storm?

  Wild magic.

  Even now he felt the wild magic buzz around him. Like a kid with a bug, it tormented him. It played with his shiana, trying to induce a change. No! He thought at it. The magic only hissed its laughter.

  The howling wind played with him, tossing him like a feather. It buffeted him, trying to slam him into something hard and unforgiving; like the ground. He had to clear the storm before it killed him. Pulling with his wings, Kaishan climbed desperately toward the sky above the storm. The air thinned greatly as he struggled.

  The storm had other plans.

  He felt the air charge and heat. A crackling burst and lighting zinged past him. He shrieked as a small part of it struck him. Blue-white flashes rippled through the water upon his body before it arced into clouds beneath him. A tiny spark of it bit into his flesh. Stunned, he fell. All the scant progress he had made vanished.

  NO! His mind wailed. With a surged of will he commanded his wings to halt his fall. It was agonizingly hard. Flying through a cloud of arrows had been easier than this. They hurt a lot less too. Energy creaked around him. It was like the storm watched him. Defiantly, Kaishan challenged it. He was the High Prince of Sheyestiva! He would live through this storm. He would survive. He lived through his battles.

  Kaishan couldn’t help but wish that the storm had been alive. If only it had been alive! He could have had a chance. His wild hunger screamed. He could have torn it apart. His claws could dig deep into the flesh of the storm and he could have tasted its sweet blood. His ears could have heard its scream.

  Thunder roared again, demanding that he yield to it. Kaishan laughed mirthlessly. Fear had turned to anger. Anger led to blood lust. Blood lust awakened the Coldness. The Terror of Sheyestiva awakened to a force with as much pity as it had. None. It shrieked its challenge to the storm. It thought of ways It could conquer its enemy. Its enemy was the weather. Flesh it could rip and rend to nothing. But weather could be controlled by the elemental magics of marana. A mind. The Coldness lashed. Kaishan, buried beneath the Coldness, had a moment of surprise, not only was there a mind, but there were two. One was wilder then a Cursed; driven and crazy. It wasn’t exactly a mind, per say, but more of a presence. It was like a wounded animal wanting to tear apart its torturer. Or, if not its tormentor, something else. Something like him.

  The other mind was calmer, more mind then presence. It had a sense of command about it. The Coldness lunged for this mind, but before it could get a good grip the calmer mind fled.

  The storm, apparently, had been held in check. Had been. Past tense. Now it tore into him; thunder, lightning, wild magic, wind, and boiling rain. Kaishan lost control over his stronger shape. Like a puppet with its strings cut, he tumbled, losing his strong eagle form for his natural one. One with no wings. Down, but not as far as he had feared.

  His fall stopped abruptly against cold ground. Impact jarred a cry from him. Kaishan’s body was like one huge burn atop a bruise. It cursed him in all the tongues of the body. He was burned by the rain, frozen from the ground, made deaf by the thunder, smarting by the lightning, and abused by the magic. It was amazing that he felt the tongue of heat that lapped at his naked fingers. Instinctively he pulled his hand from the tiny stream of water.

  Lighting lanced down making the little stream crackle with energy. With cold clarity, Kaishan knew that death would find him if he didn’t find shelter soon. Kaishan tried to stand, but the wind was too strong. The High Prince of Sheyestiva was made to crawl. It was something unheard of, but at the moment he hurt too much to care about appearances.

  Finding shelter was difficult in a world of bare rock and tempest conditions. But a miracle awaited his attention. Amidst all the turmoil, Kaishan eventually realized that there was firelight in the darkness. It came from a cave farther up the slope. Hope of survival drove Kaishan toward the light. He vaguely wondered if it was an illusion. He was so out of it that he could be tricked by a child. Illusion or not, it offered hope.

  The punishing rain soon stopped its pounding, announcing his arrival to sanctuary. Kaishan crawled farther into the cave that was really there. He kept his eyes closed, because it was simpler then opening them. It was his sense of touch that told him of more relief. Softness made itself known to his hands and knees. With an exhausted, pained shudder, Kaishan’s arms gave out under him. A grunt of pain escaped him as the soft whatever rubbed against his tortured flesh. His ribs didn’t like him either. He knew that at least one was cracked. Kaishan let himself relax. It took too much to keep crawling.

  “So, you survived.”An old woman’s voice observed. There was a cool command about the voice.“Not many would have. You are strong.”

  Kaishan’s mind searched out for this woman’s. He needed some way to defend himself. Briefly he touched it and found it calm. Just as he was working his grip around it, he was batted away and chased back to his own mind.

  “You are strong; Prince, but you shouldn’t try me.”Her voice remained quite. He heard a rustle of cloth.“It is rude to challenge one’s host.”He felt her fingers twine into his pale blond hair. She forced his head up. The pain made him open his eyes. Her eyes were clear blue with black and silver veined irises. They dominated his vision. Kaishan knew more than anybody that to look into the eyes of a telecerrisked giving them access to one’s mind. Sure enough he felt her mind’s touch. He felt her mind reach into his and he had a moment of pure panic. Typically no one could do this, but she had followed him using his own bridge. Kaishan raised his shields, but she pushed them effortlessly away. I don’t like rude people.Her mind whispered in his. With no warning she slammed him into a void. He couldn’t even scream.

  ***

  Aritéstared at the limp form of Kaishan. His clothing had been ripped by the thrashing he’d received. His once pale skin was the red of second degree burns. She knew he had gotten off lucky. The Grave was never kind. Aritésent her senses into him and found several of his ribs were cracked. He had been terribly lucky.

  With the gift of telecy, she lifted him and placed on her bed. Humming softly a forgotten song, Aritéshuffled to her garden. It was a song of hope in life. She hummed it as she picked out the herbs she needed. She returned to her chambers with the batch of leaves. Going to a work table,
she dumped the herbs into her mortar and began grinding them to a powder. While she worked, she called to the water in the air. It condensed at her command and pooled into a large bowl beside her. Once she was satisfied with the fineness of the powder, she stirred it into the water. Aritéheated the bowl as she stirred. Finished heating and stirring, she let the bowl sit.

  Aritéshuffled over to Kaishan. He lay like one of the dead, but for his shallow breathing. The healer within her had hated calling the storm to him but she needed to know how he ticked. During the Shadow War she couldn’t get him alone. Her healer’s constitution wasn’t thrilled with the prospect of intentionally hurting a creature. But to make a secret bridge to his mind it was the only way she had left. He was too well guarded to succeed when he was conscious and his shields were well fortified while he slept. He wasn’t terribly careless either. Only unconscious would all his guards be down. Only harrowing pain would knock him out.

  Kaishan had never flown back through the Nirami once the troops had crossed. He had been out of her reach. Then the Marlhemans released their spell and that was that. She had only had her chance now. When Kaishan had crossed south she had been somewhat surprised by his apparent lack of aging. Aritéhadn’t tried her plan because she had been curious of his activities. When he returned north was when she had decided to capture him.

  Now that she had him, she had to keep him unconscious. Which meant that she needed to keep him in enough pain to keep him out of it. She gritted her teeth at the thought as she observed his condition. She wanted to relieve him of all his pain, heal him back to a calm, easy sleep, but that would mean his guard would be up. Again.

  Angry at the circumstances, Aritésent her healing senses to see if there was anything mortally serious; such as internal bleeding, or too much blood loss. His ribs were cracked, but had not pierced his lungs. His lungs were a little bruised and so she sent her abilities to clean those up. Next she checked for any infection. She burned away the little that was there. A few other organs were bruised so she healed those and the little internal bleeding she had found. Aritéopened her eyes from her healing trance. She was amazed. He truly had been lucky if that was all his internal body had suffered. Now it was only the terrible burns swathing his body and the cracked ribs. Aritécalled for her slav. Obediently the bowl floated over. Eyeing her patient, she dipped her fingers into the soothing substance and began to spread it over his tortured skin. It would dim the pain only slightly and it would stop up the wounds so there was no more blood loss. And that was all she could do for him till she learned more about him.

  She had to keep telling herself that.

  While she applied the substance she noticed many old scars. They were a different color from the rest of his skin. Most of them looked to be lucky scores by whoever he had been fighting. Others looked like the kinds of things that one got during combat training. Aritéshook her head. When a kid should be playing… But if the kid didn’t combat train they didn’t have a chance in the world of Sheyestiva. All the male children went through some kind of training. Being the heir, Kaishan had undergone more than normal. Aritéknew he had an aptitude for it; he was the Winged Dagger after all. There was only one person who was more skilled with a blade and that was the emperor. What was that like?She wondered. Aritéwondered what sort of man the Sword was like. Kaishan did not seem to her to be teetering on any edge of anything. Curious, Aritéreached into his mind and looked at the first memory she found.

  Chapter Fourteen- A Born Weapon

  “Zan atar iell nou ma morea…si ri osti…ri zail...(The voice told me to kill…so I did. I will)”- Seer Kheniell of Razyan’s Keep

  Kaishan waited. A curious feeling spread through him, a kind of hunger. Excitement seized his heart in its tight grip. He breathed through his opened beak. The rich scent of the cliff deer tempted him. Or maybe and more honestly, the scent of its blood. It was a young buck who had let youth get to its head. A more experienced buck had taught it that.

  “Comeon.”Insisted his twin Sheyév. Sheyév’s night feathered wings opened in anticipation.

  “Wait.”Kaishan’s tone was imperious. There was a soft clack as Sheyév’s beak shut. Kaishan felt his twin shift in resentment. The twin eagles perched upon a ledge above the cliff deer. They were young, no older than six. Adult Sheyestivans hunted in the great plains looking for easier, bigger meat. Only children and a few nimble adults hunted the cliff deer.

  Both eagles watched the cliff deer limp along a hands width wide path. Kaishan eyed Sheyév out of the corner of his eye. Sheyév’s posture was becoming restless. They both felt the bloodlust within themselves. Shifting into the Night Eagle gave one power, strength, invincibility. All of Sheyestiva gloried in their second forms. They were the ultimate predators. With eyes as sharp as a true eagle’s in daylight and moonlight, there was no place to hide. None. With this form came the love of the hunt, the taste of another’s life upon the tongue…Kaishan could understand his brother’s impatience.

  “Wait.”Kaishan warned his twin when Sheyév made to dive upon the deer.

  Sheyév growled deep in his throat. The deer froze. For a second it listened. Sheyév hissed his excitement softly. Forgetting its injury, the deer panicked and tried to scamper away. The deer fell. Sheyév dove after it.

  “Sheyév!”Kaishan called. Sheyév ignored him. Grumbling at his twin’s foolishness, Kaishan sprang after his brother; his eyes following his twin’s progress. The deer landed in a crumbled heap on a wide ledge. Sheyév landed on its broken body, his claws going deep. Sheyév’s beak making quick work of the deer’s throat. Dark blood gave the black beak a wet sheen as Sheyév lifted his head in triumph. Kaishan back winged, hovered, watching and waiting.

  “Mine!”Sheyév challenged Kaishan, his triumphant eyes glittering. Sheyév bent his head to the corpse. Kaishan looked over toward the dark crack in the cliff. When he and his brother had come here they had both seen the fissure. They both knew what lurked there, but in his frenzy, Sheyév had lost his sense. Now an oily iridescent tentacle emerged. Its coloring began to mimic the stone of the cliff as it snaked toward Sheyév and the deer.

  Slowly the tentacle was followed by two others of its ilk. After them squeezed a drooling serpentine head and body. A sovashatash. Only an adult Sheyestivan in eagle form dared to face it. It was suicidal for anything else to. He must have been foolish. As soon as Kaishan saw the sovashatash, his mind became cold and calculating. There was no time to worry about the stilling toxin hidden within the tentacles. It didn’t matter that he was only six, that sovashatash was threatening what was his.

  Without giving warning to brother or snake, Kaishan dove. His aim was true. Sheyév knew his danger only when he heard the thunk of impact and the sovashatash’s hiss of pain. A chunk of bloody meat fell from his gapping beak as Kaishan’s small body inflicted bloody rents into the snake’s. Sheyév was frozen by the cold glow in Kaishan’s eyes. A strangled cry left his throat as the two tumbled over the side.

  Warm blood welled about Kaishan’s toes; its coppery tang soaked his tongue as he tore into the sovashatash’s body near its head. That was his world; tearing, rending, and blood. He could taste the sovashatash’s pain, its anger. He hissed tauntingly, tearing at more of its flesh. Kaishan heard the strangled cry as his momentum sent he and his enemy over the edge. He reached into the beast’s mind and read its panic and rage. Kaishan laughed into its mind as he tore free of its body.

  Kaishan swooped away from the sovashatash. Beating his wings, he gained a little altitude before diving after the tumbling snake. It smacked into a ledge before rolling off to continue its downward plummet. Desperately it tried to snatch an overhang with its dexterous tongue. It hung for a moment before sighting Kaishan. Anger flashed in its eyes along with the need for revenge. How dare this eaglet challenge it! It meant to grab the bird in its tongues and let it know a slow death. Too late did it remember that its tongues were the only things keeping it from gravity’s hold. With a hiss it tried to rec
laim its brake, but it was too late.

  Sharp pains were gouged into its head, cold laughter in its mind. It saw the obsidian beak before it saw no more. The other eye didn’t need to wait long before it joined its twin. It felt the burning heat of poison being pumped through its veins. Much of it was being pumped out along with its blood through its many wounds. It felt the sharp claws of its attacker rake against its skull before tearing free. A moment later there was the grandfather of all pain then nothing. Nothing, but the cold laughter.

  Blood. Oh! The taste of it, the feel of it, the smell…Oh yes! Yes! It brought such a savage joy to him that Kaishan felt ecstatic. He was powerful and invincible. He could defend what was his against everything. Against anything. Kaishan sank his claws deep into the mangled sovashatash and shrieked his dominance to the clouds far, far above.

  As the echo faded, Kaishan’s bloodlust melted away. Below him rested the crushed remains of a once proud hunter. A patient hunter who waited for the right opportunity. It would still be alive now if the Coldness hadn’t touched him. Sheyév would be dead, but it would be alive. Both would have been alive if Sheyév had only obeyed him. Kaishan shifted back to his human form. He crouched upon the corpse staring straight ahead.

  “Kaishan?”Sheyév’s hesitant voice intruded upon his thoughts. Sheyév stared up at his twin and felt as if he didn’t know him anymore. Kaishan’s pale skin was painted with crimson blood. Blood was everywhere. Blood stained Kaishan’s cliff hunting camouflage. His eyes were losing their chill, but not their intenseness. Never had they been so piercing and calculating. Kaishan turned those eyes on him, their chill coming back. Nimbly, Kaishan leapt from the pile of sovashatash and faced Sheyév. One of Kaishan’s bloody hands raked through his hair, dying it a crimson to match the rest of him.