The Raging One

by Lexy Wolfe

  Almek waved a discrete hand towards Mureln as he rose. "Master Andar!" The mage froze for a moment when the Guardian spoke sharply. "A word with you, please." Ignoring Almek, Ash took another step after Storm. "Now!"The mage grimaced but obeyed, stiffly following Almek out of the main room.

  Away from the others, Ash spun on Almek. "How can you let Storm leave?! She has so much unrealized potential; it will be wasted in that desert. You saw what she is capable of already! Talent like that can't be left untrained. It is too dangerous! And I... we need her!"

  Almek remained silent, letting Ash vent. When Ash finally fell silent, the Guardian's voice was calm, but uncompromising. "I will not force anyone to be my student, no matter what sort of oath was sworn to me. If you wished to leave, I would not stand in your way. Each of you has the power to make your own choices. I will not take that from any of you."

  "Storm is a naïve child," Ash seethed. "Children need someone to guide them because they do not know any better. She has to be made to understand there is more to the world than that wasteland she calls home." Ash started to stalk out to find Storm.

  Almek tilted his head, studying the mage. "Storm knows very well there is a greater danger, and that leaving likely will condemn her to death. She also knows she is a liability to us. That is why she has chosen to leave."

  Ash spun around, staring incredulously. "What?!"

  "Ash, you had seen much more of the world as a child. Even if you realize your people's attitudes towards Sevmana and Vodanya were... wanting, you had been exposed to different peoples, different ways of life. Storm had never left Desantiva. Ever since the disaster of the Great War, no Desanti had." Almek’s eyes held Ash’s, keeping him from leaving.

  Ash crossed his arms stubbornly. "It doesn’t make her a liability. She is quick witted and intelligent. She can learn to become accustomed to it."

  Almek sighed, putting a paternal hand on Ash's shoulder. "Ash, you said so yourself. She is still a child. She is a child who is lonely and homesick with the weight of the world on her shoulders. It is distracting her, and for a warrior, distraction can be deadly.

  "We are already demanding a great deal from her, and she is trying very hard to answer all those demands without fail. But perhaps what we are demanding, what she is demanding of herself, is more than she is able to give. It is cruel to demand more."

  Ash clenched his teeth in silence. "I don’t want her to leave. We need her. I..." He looked away, eyes shut as he confessed, "I need her."

  Almek sighed. "None of us want to lose her, Ash. But for now, she is still with us, and she will not leave until she has done what she promised her father she would do. Do not taint the time we still have her with us with anger. Respect her decision." He smiled sadly. "We all will need to let her go."

  Shoulders slumping slightly, Ash said barely loud enough for the Guardian to hear, "I do not know if I can."

  Chapter 76

  THE soft rushing sound of falling rain became more muted as Mureln entered the tree-bound stables several measures below Naveene's Rest. The sounds of animals shifting in their stalls replaced the rain as he lowered his hood, shaking off the water that clung to his cloak. He squinted into the darkness for several moments, uncertain. "Storm? Are you here?" he called in Desanti.

  Storm's embittered voice floated from the furthest stalls where the drizzen had been stabled. "What do you want?" Eyes finally adjusting to the dim light, he saw her finally, sitting on the drizar's bare back, laying against his neck.

  "I wanted to make sure you were all right." Approaching slowly, Mureln held up a hand to allow the drizar to sniff it. The beast, half asleep, merely chuffed softly, head drooping. The bard blinked several times in disbelief at the uncharacteristically docile behavior. "He really is useless when he eats too much, isn't he?"

  Storm could not help but smile, though the expression was fleeting. "Drizzen eat constantly in Desantiva because they have to. And they literally eat everything. Meat. Plants. Rocks." She rubbed the somnolent beast's neck fondly. "He has never been in a land where one need never worry about food." She sighed softly. "I suppose letting him eat himself into a stupor is useful to keep him from goring people randomly."

  Stepping to one side of the beast prudently, Mureln nodded. "It is very useful, yes." He studied her again. "You are avoiding my question. Are you all right?"

  Hiding her face on the opposite side of the drizar's neck, Storm gave vent to her feelings. "No, I am not all right. I hate it here. I wish I never met any of you. Never came to this gods forsaken place. I want it to be the way it used to be. The way it has always been." She tightened her embrace around the reptilian beast's neck. "I want to go home where I belong!"

  Ignoring her words as emotional turmoil and not what she honestly felt, Mureln considered Storm a long time. Seeing what lay below the turmoil on the surface, his expression saddened in sympathy. "The mage doesn't hate you. There are not many he trusts enough to consider a friend, and when he does, he holds onto them tightly. He just doesn't let go of those he cares about easily."

  "He never should have started caring about me to begin with," Storm said bitterly. "Forenten live forever. Desanti are mere sparks in the night."

  Raising his hand hesitantly, Mureln put a hand on Storm's shoulder, feeling the unnatural heat from the Totani mark. "Give him time, okay? The news came as a shock to him."

  Pushing herself upright, Storm looked at Mureln, her expression pleading for understanding. "I never wanted to hurt him, Mureln. But it is just too much for me. Too much to learn. Too much to watch. I can't sleep. I can't eat. It takes every shred of will not to attack everything that moves or doesn't that I do not understand. It will not end well if I remain."

  "I have faith you can tolerate this land in time. But, I understand, Storm. Truly, I do. The others will, too. Eventually." He reached up to take her hand, squeezing it when she looked away with a pained expression. "However, we are all Almek's students. Even Emil and Emaris, in their own ways, the louts." Storm couldn't help but smile a little. "That makes us a kind of family. A tribe."

  Storm closed her eyes, looking away. "Tribes take care of their own. I am Swordanzen. We have no tribe. It is tradition."

  Mureln squeezed her knee lightly. "You do not need to stand alone, Storm. I'm always here to talk to if you need. Or any of the others. Okay?"

  Storm took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay. I will try, but I cannot promise anything."

  "Just promise to try." Mureln smiled encouragingly. "That is enough."

  Storm considered. "I promise to try."

  "Good." Turning to leave, he said over his shoulder, "Come back upstairs when you're ready. I bet we can get Emil to make a fool of himself dancing before he's too drunk to see straight." The bard smiled when he heard her laugh quietly.

  Chapter 77

  A week had passed and the rains were still falling, the temperatures bitterly cold. Storm stood at the archway leading outside from the main room of Naveene's Rest, fuming. She wore her heavy travel robes, pulling them close for warmth. "Why does it keep raining?! It is like the skies themselves plot against me!"

  "The rains here are very different from home," Skyfire said, huddled under his own travel robes as he stood at the other side of the archway. "Instead of swift and violent, they are quiet and unending." He peered up at the sky and sighed. "And it is so cold, the trees are dying!" He patted the edge of the archway mournfully. "Poor, ancient tree."

  Lyra approached, carrying a tray with two mugs filled with steaming cider, giggling. "The trees are not dying, Master Skyfire. It is just autumn." The Desanti traded quizzical looks. Lyra pursed her lips, never having had to explain seasons to anyone before. "It is the time of year that the trees go to sleep in preparation for the winter cold. The leaves will turn very pretty colors before they fall off." At the Desanti's alarmed looks, she hurriedly added, "Oh, not forever! New leaves will grow in the spring season when the weather begins to warm again. It is the natural progression
of the seasons through the year."

  Skyfire considered Lyra's explanation a moment. "We have only two... seasons... in Desantiva. The wet season and the dry season." He took one of the mugs, sipping it. His warm smile of gratitude brought a faint blush to the fair girl's cheeks. "Thank you, Lyra. This is very good." The Desanti man looked at the sullen Storm. "You should have some of this. It is very warming."

  Storm took the other mug, but only nestled it against herself, hugging it for warmth.

  Lyra's smile faded to one of concern. "Mistress Storm, the cider is very good."

  "I am sure it is," Storm replied, not looking at the girl.

  "Would you like something different? I would be happy to bring you something you would like better," she offered hopefully.

  "No."

  Lyra sighed. "Mistress, please. Everyone is so worried about you. Is there nothing you would like?" Storm remained silent, ignoring Lyra instead of lashing out as she had with the servant the first day in Naveene's Rest.

  Skyfire looked between the concerned Forentan girl and the ill-humored Desanti. Stepping away from the arch, he reached over to exchange mugs with Storm. Looking up at Skyfire in vague annoyance, she turned her attention back outside, sipping the drink.

  "I... do not understand. They are the same." Lyra looked at Skyfire, perplexed.

  "Traditionally, my people will only eat or drink what they have themselves made or only if they see another taste it first," Skyfire explained to the girl with a shrug.

  "You don't, Master Skyfire," Lyra pointed out.

  "I should," the man admitted. Then he grinned at the slight girl. "But I figure people would be more afraid of her wrath if I were poisoned, so I do not worry so much." Storm simply snorted softly, rolling her eyes, not deigning to make any comment.

  Lyra was silent for a time, thoughtful, before she finally spoke. "Your ways are very strange. But I will remember, Master Skyfire."

  "You are very kind," Skyfire returned to the girl, who curtsied with a blush before leaving.

  Storm said in Swordanzen, "You are smitten with her."

  Skyfire bristled defensively. "She is very sweet. Very innocent." He sighed softly, putting his arm around Storm comfortingly. "Things are different here. You do not need to hold so tightly to the desert traditions. Not all of them are necessary here."

  "I devoted my life to protecting and honoring our traditions." Storm allowed herself to lean against him, half closing her eyes. "If I lose them, what will I have left to me? A lifetime focused on perfecting how to kill?" She looked away from him. "How to murder?"

  "You are not a killer or a murderer," Skyfire said firmly. "You are a survivor and protector." He tightened his arm around her. "There is no shame in that." He rested his cheek against the top of her head when she closed her eyes with a sigh, laying her head on his chest.

  At one of the small tables, Mureln sat with Ash, watching the two Desanti. "You cannot keep putting her off. The rain will eventually have to stop. And even if it doesn't, you know Storm will eventually try to find Her on her own. Might even succeed, given her stubbornness and the fact she was raised by a god and his divine servants." Mureln could see by the slight twitch in his expression that Ash was not ignoring him completely. "Making it rain like this is only delaying the inevitable."

  "I am not making it rain," Ash said sourly, glowering at Mureln before looking back at the two Desanti staring outside. "I am strong in wielding Forentan magic, but even I cannot make it rain for a week." At Mureln's dubious expression, Ash glowered. "Don't look at me like that. I know my limitations."

  "Then tell me I am the only one who can see this rain is not natural." Mureln put a hand on Ash's shoulder. "Some way, somehow, the weather is responding to you. Before Forenta washes away into the ocean—and believe me, my people do not want your trees in our waters—we need to go see Her. She needs to see Her."

  Ash pushed himself to his feet. "Fine. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can be rid of the Desanti bitch and life can get back to normal." As Ash stalked to the stairs, he nearly ran into Taylin who pressed herself against the wall to get out of his way.

  "I am not sure which is gloomier. Him or the weather," Taylin said as she slipped into the chair next to Mureln. She laced her fingers with his, leaning close to kiss his cheek lightly.

  "He is trying to convince himself he wants the Desanti gone now," the Bard said sadly. "And failing hopelessly." Wearily, he rested his forehead in his palm, closing his eyes.

  Chapter 78

  TERRENCE came up the stairs, adjusting the new robes that denoted his formal promotion with the nervousness he felt when he was first accepted by the Illaini Magus as his apprentice. The upper level was silent, dimly lit by the storm muffled daylight from the balcony. "Master Ash?" he called uncertainly.

  From behind the curtained divider to his sleeping area, Ash responded in curt tones. "What do you need, Senior Journeyman Terrence?"

  Terrence closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steel himself. "I need to speak with you, Master." When there was no response, the young man moved the curtain aside, looking in before entering.

  Seated on the bed in a vain attempt to find solace through meditation, Ash did not even bother to open his eyes as Terrence let the curtain fall closed behind him. Uncertain, Terrence stood, waiting in silence until his master's deep azure eyes opened, fixing on the younger man coldly. "So speak. Then leave. I wish to be alone."

  Terrence pressed his lips together. "Master, I know you are upset about Mistress Storm's decision to return to Desantiva." He looked down as Ash glared at him. "But is it not better she be where she would be happy?"

  "She will not be happy," Ash said sharply. "She gave what we call Soul Oath to Master Almek. Even if he is permitting her to leave, the decision will tear her apart. And there will be no one with her who can save her from herself."

  The young man frowned as he sat on the trunk at the foot of the bed. "You believe she will die if she leaves." Terrence tilted his head. "She is the most incredible fighter I have ever seen. How can you be sure?"

  Ash smiled bitterly. "Because I know what she will do, Terrence. She will feel shame she could not fulfill her vow to Master Almek. She will throw herself into her duties to the exclusion of all else. Take risk after risk without taking time enough to recover properly until something mercifully ends her torment." The bitter smile faded as he looked down, clenching his fists. "I know, because it is what I would do in her place."

  Terrence’s eyes went wide, standing quickly. "Master Almek must know about this! He wouldn't allow her to die—"

  "He is quite aware of what will happen to Storm. He can see all the possible futures." Ash fixed his gaze on Terrence's. "But he is a man who believes in allowing people to make their own choices. Even if the choice knowingly kills them." Bitterly, he grumbled, "Even if it damns the world."

  Terrence frowned in thought. "Mistress Storm wouldn’t be so selfish as that. I am certain of it, Master."

  Ash growled as he stood. "That is the problem, Terrence. She is not being selfish." Rubbing his face then pinching the bridge of his nose, he paused to compose himself. "She believes herself a danger to the rest of us."

  "A danger?" The young man stared at Ash uncomprehendingly. He started to open his mouth to argue that, then closed it again as he remembered the numerous times Ash had endured Storm’s violent explosions of temper, and the wounds he suffered without complaint. "I can see why she would believe so," he said quietly. After several moments, he sighed heavily. "I feel so sorry for her."

  The Illaini Magus looked sharply at the young journeyman’s odd tone of voice. "Sorry for her?"

  "Yes, Master." Terrence met his master’s intense gaze. "Everyone here sees her as a master of weapon craft. Which she is," he said hurriedly before Ash scolded him for even hinting Storm was anything less. Looking down, the young man touched his temple. "I... still remember many of the things Dzee knew. To be Swordanzen is so much more than know
ing how to fight well.

  Ash’s bitter expression melted into one of blank surprise. "Of course," he responded automatically. "She knows how to survive the harsh environment of Desantiva’s wastelands, how to protect the life there to sustain her people. She is a keeper of her people’s history and traditions."

  Terrence lowered his hand from his temple, looking at Ash. "She is to Desantiva as an Illaini Magus is to Forenta." Terrence smiled sadly. "But it didn’t mean much of anything to be the Illaini Magus in Desantiva. You knew nothing of their language or their culture. You just happened to be a very powerful wielder of magic."

  "Get to the point, Terrence," Ash said impatiently, crossing his arms.

  "Master, when we went to Desantiva, we knew we would not be there long, and none of us plan on ever returning. There was little reason to learn more about the Desanti, though I am sure Mistress Storm would have taught us if we had asked her." He leaned forward, looking up at his master. "But none of us asked because... well. We don’t think much of Desantiva. Desantiva is a lost, forgotten land we are eager to forget again. Because it reminds us of our ancestors' mistakes and makes us uncomfortable.

  "Terrence—"

  "Master, allow me to finish," Terrence stated so firmly, Ash blinked in surprise and fell silent as his student requested. "If the Desanti would remain with Master Almek, they know they are likely never to see their home again. Everyone treats both Storm and Skyfire as masters. But they aren’t. Not here. Here, they just happen to be two people who are very good using weapons.

  "You taught me yourself, a master is both teacher and student. Part of the Swordanzen patterns must include those aspects. Especially Githalin."