Brynn made his presence visible to the spirit in a form she would see as an aura of bright colours that resembled the shape of a person.
When the spirit realised he was there, he felt fear spark through her and then curiosity.
'What are you?' she wondered.
'I am like you, a person, a spirit,' he explained.
'Oh, of course!' she agreed, although there was uncertainty edging her thoughts. 'There seems to be many of those here, then, for I have seen many like you, yet none spoke to me.'
'Do not fear,' he said. 'I am a friend. You can call me Kai. It is not my real name, but you are safer not knowing that,' he told her.
'Oh,' she sounded confused at that, but did not question it.
'And you?' he prompted.
She hesitated. 'Should I also give an alias?'
Brynn chuckled, taking in the largely gold colour of her aura, 'Mayhap we could call you Golden One,' he playfully suggested.
'Oh, okay,' she agreed, not realising he was kidding.
Brynn re-evaluated his approach. 'Do you know how you got here?'
'I thought I was dreaming. I still think I am. At least here, I do not feel the hunger quite as much, even if my memories of it are still vivid.' She paused, her voice carrying such a note of despair, Brynn's stomach cramped in sympathy.
'If only there was food here. Even if it was not real, I could at least pretend to ease my hunger. I could eat as much as I liked and not get sick. Who would have thought that to feed a starving person all they wanted would make them sick?'
The question was rhetorical, and the girl continued to chatter about food. Brynn now understood. The girl was a slave or a prisoner and, from her responses, she was not even aware of her talent. Left in such a neglected physical state, she unwittingly sought out the planes, her instincts perceiving them as a safe-haven from her suffering.
This one had been fortunate enough to cross the planes intact. Brynn could trace her essence and knew her physical being to be alive, if unwell. She radiated a desolate loneliness, the kind most slaves felt after turns of forced service. He was pleased to feel the strong spirit beneath it, and although she had endured a lot, she was not ready to give in.
Visions flashed through his mind, a part of his ability to perceive thoughts, and he could see them as if he was in her body. They were the memories flickering through her mind right now, giving food to the younger slaves, helping others with their labours, offering comfort to a child on a dismally, cold night. Belon would regret not meeting this one, she always felt renewed hope when she encountered the selflessly brave ones. He would be able, for once, to tell her of an inspiring spirit he had found and helped, instead of listening to his mother's rescues.
'Where are you exactly?' Brynn asked when she finally paused. 'Your physical self, I mean?'
'I am not sure of the location. We are on our way to Denas. At first we rode horses, but when we stopped in a town, they put us in a wagon. It doesn't have any windows. They are in quite a hurry, for they have yet to feed us and I would do anything for a sip of water,' she told him plaintively.
Right now, Brynn would have given up a talent to scoop a handful of the water from the spring nearby and allow her to wet her parched throat and dry lips.
He had never known such need personally and could only relate through his empath talent. Right now, he could perceive her pain and longing for simple things like rice and water. Brynn felt disgusted with himself, for he remembered quite recently refusing to eat his rutabagas just because he did not like them. This slave would not hold such prejudices.
'I rarely see the cities from the outside,' she continued. 'Most times, I do not know where I am unless I am told or I hear someone say. I went to Ancoulan once. It was so beautiful. Did you know they have handmade canals that weave through the entire city? Like miniature rivers with flowers and plants. They say it runs through the palace. It must be marvellous! I once lived in Haranti, the gardens there are so serene your spirit could soar. The domes of the temple in Sal-Cirus have jade patterns in them...'
'Where do you come from? Originally, I mean,' Brynn clarified.
'I do not know. I was born a slave. I work for whoever buys me. Mostly for wives who do not want to work. They sit around and eat all day or prepare themselves for their husbands or the lovers they take in their absence. I do all the cooking, cleaning and washing. I am plain enough not to attract their husbands, which is why they choose me. I don't really go outside. Except for one time when I was washing the clothes for a barracks of two hundred,' she related with a groan. 'I am not even sure how old I am. Some turns are just a blur of work and sleep and work again. This will be the first time I've ever been locked up. I guess that's what they do when you try escaping. I didn't get far...' the girl trailed off again, but her story had him curious.
'You escaped?'
'Briefly. I think they're going to question me and I am afraid. I can't tell them much, but I've heard some horrific things about how they interrogate people…'
Brynn could feel her fear rising to the point that it would overwhelm her, and so he wrapped the lost, lonely presence in his own as a comfort, just as Belon taught him.
'My companion is frightened out of her wits. She says that some prisoners try to kill themselves before the guards can take them, but I do not think I can take my own life,' her voice quavered.
'Shhh,' he quieted her. 'I once saw two blue birds,' he declared. 'Look!'
Before them, two birds appeared, their feathers an exact match for the blue of the sky on a bright, cloudless day. She gazed with awe as she watched them perform an aerial ballet. One of the birds flew in close and spiralled in front of her. The girl tentatively held out a hand, a finger extended, her aura blurring and then taking the shape of a person. The bird happily landed on her finger and she giggled; a soft musical sound. The bird sat there tweeting softly as if singing to her. The other bird flew in to join it, nudging the first bird over for some space. Again, the musical laughter. Finally, Brynn had them take off, making it seem like they just flew so far into the distance they could no longer be seen.
'You have a hard life, Golden One,' he said sympathetically. 'I cannot imagine how you survive. It must take great strength of soul and mind.' He sent his admiration as Belon had done, she said it would help to bolster their hope.
'Maybe it's really a weakness, for I simply accept my fate. I do not try to control it in any way,' she responded dolefully.
'You tried to escape. It matters not that you waited,' he consoled. 'Born into slavery, you knew nothing else, so anything different was beyond your imagining, until you heard of others who managed to escape. Despair more than likely followed for a time as you tried to fathom how you, too, might accomplish this, until finally you stopped wishing it was possible and believed it. For each person, the time it will take for these things to happen will be different. Some will never act, regardless of what they hear or see, for that feels safe, and many suffer greatly because of that. Never be ashamed of failure, it is those who do not even try that should rethink their attitude to life.'
He could feel her smile.
'I guess you are right. It is something for me to consider. How did you become so wise?'
'It is not necessarily that I am wise,' he declaimed. 'I just learned from those who are.'
'You relate their knowledge well, then,' she insisted. Then she asked wistfully, 'What is it like to be free?'
'I do not know if I can fully appreciate the feeling. At least not like you will when you achieve your freedom,' he replied thoughtfully.
'I do not think it is something I can ever hope to gain,' she declared despondently,
'You do not hope for the day the Saviour will come?' Brynn enquired.
'I have never heard of this saviour,' she said honestly.
Brynn was astonished, surely all elvan, even slaves, knew the legend! Well, obviously his assumption was incorrect. Brynn related the story, as well as several other elvan tales
. It made him wonder how many other younger elvan out there no longer knew their history or legends. What of the rituals and traditions of barely a century ago? Had they all been lost so swiftly?
He could feel her fading then, it was time to lead her back. 'Despite your doubt, Golden One, you are strong of spirit and you can keep going. I sense a change in the way of life for all of us. The day might not be too far away when you will be free. You must hold on,' he implored. He knew the words were not as inspiring or encouraging as Belon's, but still, he had to try.
'Thank you,' she whispered. 'And if I never meet you again, know that your kindness made a heart feel lighter, as will the memory of this dream. Call me Anarya, though, I am just a slave, none will care that you have met me.'
'I will,' Brynn disagreed.
Then she was gone, her presence slipping through his hold like the water she craved. He watched her spirit re-integrate with her body, and stayed for a moment, feeling its fragile rhythm. For once the emotions threatening to overwhelm him were his own, and Brynn was tempted to break more rules and heal her. He hesitated, because to do so would risk alerting Abbarane mages. If they suspected she had communicated with a rebel mage, the torture she feared would become a certainty. While she was dreaming, their conversation was safe enough, but any direct talented interaction, such as healing, would set off wards. Any attempt by him to link with her was also highly risky, for that required direct contact rather than passively tuning into her dreams — and dreams did not seek out the sleeper.
He would think on this, mayhap one of his contacts might be able to help her. He remembered, then, that he still had an oath to visit young Varell's mother, Herkana, another slave who needed her spirit lifted. And if his vision concerning Varell's mother was correct, she had more strength than she realised. A strength that would become integral to the elvan cause. That visit would be trickier though, as Herkana was not likely to be conveniently travelling the spirit planes as she dreamed, which was why it had taken him so long. Between needing time to recover from his extended use of talent and finding the right time to visit a 'dream' upon Herkana, over a sennat had passed since he had promised Varell he would see her mother. He could not let any more time pass, Brynn decided, he would just have to minimise the risk as much as possible. And he was able to rest more deeply here, out in the At-hara, he could afford to use a bit of extra talent covering his tracks, so-to-speak.
Day 6 – Before Dawn
Sal-Cirus
Herkana tossed and turned in her cot. Over a sennat had passed since her daughter had left with Master Dematica in search of an elvan who'd stolen something from Thane Curtin. That neither the Master nor Varell had returned was quite distressing. If the Master found herself in trouble, then Varell had little hope, for the Master could handle just about anything. It was one step too far from refuge, as the saying went. Only the hope that Varell might return kept her going.
This very morning they were going to be transferred to Tiegna. Herkana turned to face the wall and closed her eyes determinedly. It was going to be a long day and she needed to rest. But her mind kept right on racing. The southern community of Tiegna had made repeated complaints about being short-staffed and Thane Curtin was finally responding. And he'd decided to include Master Dematica's two servants. Herkana was greatly upset by this. It meant they assumed the Master was gone, whether dead or otherwise, they cared not. She might never see her daughter again!
Herkana stared at the wall by her bed, concentrating on holding back her tears. Fate had certainly tested the strength of her family. Her rahn and son murdered, and her two eldest daughters condemned to a harem. It was but a small blessing her second eldest daughter had managed to escape being captured and joined the rebels, but she never got to say her farewells. With Varell gone so suddenly, it looked like this would be another child she would never see again. If only Master Dematica hadn't sent her and the other servant straight on to sort out her rooms and luggage, she may have had the chance to hug Varell before she hurried off with the Master to see the injured smith.
A soft glow crept up the wall, almost like the sun rising over a hill. At first, Herkana thought that someone had walked into the room with a lamp and she was afraid to turn. Then her curiosity overwhelmed her fear and she sat up and turned to look.
Before her stood an elvan male. Actually, he appeared to float, as his feet did not seem to quite touch the ground. A silver and blue light surrounded him. Only a mage could do such a thing.
'Varell is safe and well, Herkana.'
The elvan had not spoken. Rather she heard his voice in her mind.
'I regret is has taken so long for me to get this message to you, but be assured, a healer has taken her to a place of refuge. You will not see her for a few moons yet, but she is safe. Herveni and Karu have also found freedom, for they were amongst those rescued when the rebels spirited away the Sal-Cirus harem. Sajura remains with the rebels and will soon be re-united with her sisters, for I have sent instructions that it be so,' he told her. 'Do not give up hope or life, Herkana. Your daughters will need the comfort and wisdom of their mother when they return to you. Freedom can only be won if we retain our beliefs, in our people, in our prophecies, and in ourselves.'
The image faded and the room was dark again. She had held back a startled cry at his appearance and another at the news of her daughters, but none of the others in the dorm had stirred. He must be a rebel; how else would he know so much? And he'd given instructions for her daughters to be re-united, so he must hold a position of command. Tears ran down her cheeks, though she was smiling. She covered her mouth, lest she betray herself with too much noise, and sobbed with joy.
An overwhelming weariness came over her then. 'Sleep...' The mage's voice whispered through her mind like a summer breeze. Without realising it Herkana lay down and drifted into sleep.
Day 6 – Morning
At-hara Desert
Brynn rose lazily from the depths of slumber. Due to the heat he had slept in just his shorts. It was true the desert could get very cold in the early hours and he had snuggled under his thermal blanket earlier. But once the sun rose, the temperature had risen again, and he had cast the blanket aside. He could see now that the shady spot he had selected was about the be flooded by sunlight. If he had slept much longer, he would have found himself dealing with a severe case of sunburn.
He heard a chuckle and looked up to see Sariah, Jador and Daniel sharing a meal. Daniel was not up to having anything more than the broth Brynn had prescribed, but it was good to see Sariah and Jador had propped him up using some of their gear. He seemed tired but animated. He would sleep often over the coming sennats, his body needed it.
Considering that they had no need to hurry off anywhere, Brynn decided he had the time and it was safe enough here to immerse himself in his morning ritual. This would be his first time 'greeting the sun' without Belon and Keysjhon or Kassan and Sarre by his side, yet he fell into the routine with very little conscious effort.
The slow fluid movements that made up the ritual were like a dance in slow motion. For Brynn it was akin to meditation as he concentrated on his breath, his movements, the feel of the warm breeze on his skin, and the stillness of his spirit. After he finished, he decided to have a refreshing soak in the bathing pool. He retrieved a bag of bath salts from his stores. They would dissolve in the water, releasing minerals that would help his muscles restore.
Ducking his head beneath the water, he let himself float on his back, swishing the water gently every now and then. He was thinking, somewhat reluctantly, that it was about time he got out when a noise made him go still. He listened intently, discounting the sounds of Sariah talking and the breeze making the leaves of the senah rustle.
Slowly, he shifted to his feet, turning his head to see if he could pinpoint the noise. There should be no one else here. Had the mage, Akileena, managed to track him, after all?
There it was again, a faint, almost imperceptible, crunching noise.
He discounted the horses. The sound had come from a different direction. Sariah noted his alertness and signalled the others to keep talking as she drew a knife from her pack. Brynn flicked his gaze to Kaydyr, perched high up in a tree, the hawk was in a superb position to survey the area.
Without warning, a large, black shadow launched itself from the bushes at Brynn. The young mage changed his stance, catching the may-en-ghi as she flew at him. He almost fell, but steadied himself. 'Baschia!' he cried with delight.
The may-en-ghi clung to him with claws withdrawn, one hind foot on each thigh, one forepaw upon each shoulder, her face nose-to-nose with his. She easily outweighed him, yet he held her there.
Baschia snuffed, ruffling Brynn's hair with her breath. Brynn's grin broadened and with a great heave he tossed her over his head and into the water. She did not go down alone.
What a sight they made! All Sariah saw was a flash of black and then a may-en-ghi was on top of Brynn. She could not fathom how he supported the animal. As she put her knife away Brynn astonished her further by flipping the may-en-ghi into the water. After that, all she could see was a lot of splashing as they playfully brawled, Brynn laughing so much he almost choked on water.
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