He waved her concerns off. "No serious harm was done. Well, beyond the bench, I suppose. The donnfay won't be very happy with me and will probably lecture me later, but I'd say it was worth it to see the look on your face," he teased. "You'll find different people have different...levels of power, I suppose you might say. Sharing blood relation to the Duillaine affords me more than what you might find to be normal."
"Varrick's bigger," she countered with a somewhat teasing tone and wondered what ‘business’ Varrick was attending to.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Terrena was seated in the corner of Kyle’s room when Varrick walked in. She could tell that the warrior was using his gifts at full capacity since he didn’t seem to notice her there. He walked over to Kyle’s bedside and tapped his fingers against the sheets as he watched the young man sleep. He reached out and lightly brushed the hair from Kyle’s eyes.
“You care about him,” Terrena whispered.
Startled, Varrick quickly lowered himself into a bow. “Forgive me, Ainnir Terrena. I did not see you.”
Terrena rose to her feet and placed a hand on his head. “There is no need to apologize, Cyneward. I take it from your surprise that you are not here to see me.”
“No. I came to speak to the boy. If that’s alright.”
“Of course it is. I can leave if you like,” she offered.
“No, please stay.” He was hesitant when he took a step toward her. “Might I ask why you are here, Ainnir Terrena? I was told you were all supposed to stay in your rooms until the Duillaine sent for you.”
“I thought I might be useful here,” she said nonchalantly. “Bianca has her hands full with Isauria, and with my skills as a healer I thought I might be able to help him heal. And…I thought Kyle might be lonely.”
“How’s he doing?”
“He sleeps a lot, but he’s doing much better than he was. I think he’s more upset about his lack of visitors than his condition.”
Varrick grunted his disapproval. “Zelene still hasn’t come by?”
“Not since he woke up. Every time I come in the room, I can see the hope in his eyes die. Like he was hoping I was her. I think he’ll be happy to see you. Would you like for me to wake him up for you?”
“No. I know how to get him up.” He turned back to Kyle's sleeping form and lightly slapped him on the cheek. "Wake up, boy."
"Owe!" Kyle swatted at Varrick's hand as it slapped him lightly again, and Terrena stifled a laugh as he flailed. "I'm awake, geez." He pushed himself, panicked. "What's wrong? Is Zelene okay?"
Varrick leaned against the bed. “She's fine, thanks to you. And thanks to her, you're okay."
"Not sure I’d go so far as to say I’m ‘okay’ but whatever,” Kyle grumbled and stretched his arms over his head. “So why are you waking me up from a really nice nap if nothing's wrong?"
"Just making conversation. I've been meaning to stop by, but I haven't had a chance."
Kyle blinked at Varrick. "If you're getting all sentimental on me, then I must be a hell of a lot worse off than I thought."
"Nah, I just owe you is all. I know you'll be heading back once you recover, and I wanted to take the time to thank you for your help while I could." Varrick shifted his weight on his feet, glancing awkwardly to Terrena and lowered his voice. "I'm sure you've figured out by now my job is to protect her. Has anyone explained to you what I am?"
Varrick glanced at Terrena again as Kyle muttered his negative response, and she decided to inspect the patterned rug at her feet to give them more privacy. She hadn’t explained the Cynewards roles to Kyle yet, though she was very curious to hear what Varrick had to say.
"There are different types of what you would call guards here. There's the siegward, which is what you would refer to as soldiers on a battlefield. Then there's the havward, which are basically Secret Service here. They work on the grounds of Anscombe Palace, both inside and out, to protect the family. Did anyone explain to you about the family?"
"Yeah, Terrena said Zelene's like a princess or something. I mean, all of them are," Kyle answered simply. "It's passed down from generation to generation from mother to daughter, right?"
"Something like that. Well, then you know in each generation one daughter is born to each element. One guard is called to protect each daughter with their lives. We are the Cyneward."
"So, you applied for the job and got assigned to Zee?"
Varrick ran a hand over his dark hair. "Not quite. When I say we're called, it's a lot more complicated than getting chosen by some committee to be prom king. I am blood bound to Zelene and her sister for life. They are my only concerns. I live and breathe for them. Because of this magic, and my race, I have certain...gifts, I guess you could say."
"Like what?" Kyle asked with curiosity.
"Well, I'm impossible to kill. Or so we thought until recently.” Varrick cleared his throat, guilt written all over his face as he noticed the confused look on Terrena’s. “Anyway, that's part of the bond. As long as she lives, I live. The Duillaine have the power necessary to kill us, but it is still a very long and drawn out process." He sighed. "Because of my race, I'm stronger than normal, and faster. We're built to be warriors, which is why we're called to be Cynewards."
"Well," Kyle remarked dryly, "I always knew you were a badass. I also know you aren't one for small talk, even if you do feel sorry for me. So why are you telling me this?"
"You always were too smart for your own good. As I said, usually there is one Cyneward charged to one daughter. With the Prophecy, this time things worked a little different. Never before have we had to deal with twins like Zelene and Ariana before. There was still just one Cyneward, but two of them. This made things...difficult. I couldn't keep them together because it wasn't safe, but I had to keep an eye on them. Things became even more difficult when Zelene was placed in the foster care system, and I was deemed an unworthy guardian by the courts."
Terrena didn’t understand the Cyneward’s meaning. Surely he couldn’t mean that Zelene had fallen from his direct care at some point. The Cynewards were meant to protect their wards at all costs and remain by their sides in order to do so. They were silent guardians, but always nearby nonetheless.
Kyle beamed proudly. "Yeah, but that guy got what was coming to him. Zelene felt safer knowing you wouldn't let anyone hurt her again."
The warrior sighed. "But I had to. In this world, if anyone hurt my charge, I would be well within my rights to kill them. In your world, I had to play by the rules or end up in jail. Then I wouldn't be able to look out for either of them. Which is where you came in."
"What do you mean?"
"Knowing she had you there with her brought me comfort. It helped me sleep at night because I saw in you the same thing I feel within myself concerning Zelene: the fierce need to protect her no matter what the cost to myself. You proved you are willing to put her life before yours, which any Cyneward would tell you is the first of our duties. I respect you as if you were one of my own kind, which is not a compliment I would give to many."
Kyle swallowed hard, overcome with the honor Varrick's words held. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you. I always looked up to you, you know."
Varrick lifted a shoulder smugly. "Of course you did. Like you said, I'm a badass. I should let you get some rest." He started to leave, but turned back to him. "I don't feel sorry for you. I feel proud of you. I know you'll get better and go back to your world and make a great life for yourself. What's there to feel sorry for?"
"Varrick," Kyle called out to stop the man, licking his lips nervously. "What, uh, what if I stuck around? I mean, if I get better, I could help. Right? Maybe you could train me to be a badass like you."
The Cyneward’s eyes softened as he took a step forward. "I don't think that's wise, Kyle. There's no amount of training to help you go up against someone here with their powers and survive. And there's no chance of you developing any powers like theirs because you're from Dhara. I respect that you
want to fight, but you would be no match for someone with magic, and it wouldn't be fair for you to throw your life away."
"I understand," Kyle said, nodding slowly as Terrena read the disappointment on the boy’s face. "I should get some rest."
Varrick patted his arm before leaving the room, and Terrena chased after him.
“Varrick,” she called.
“Yes, Ainnir Terrena. How may I be of service to you?” He bowed his head, but his gaze flickered around as if he was afraid someone might see him conversing with her.
Terrena could understand why, even if she disagreed with it. “What did you mean before? When you said you only thought a Cyneward could not be killed before their ward perished?”
Varrick drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I cannot speak to you of these matters, Ainnir Terrena. That is for the Duillaine. Forgive me, but I risk enough by speaking to you at all.”
“I understand,” she said softly. “You may go, of course. Thank you.”
***
Rhaya stood in the center of a massive room lit with torches, which appeared to be a combat training room of sorts. Medieval-looking weapons lined the walls and dummies made from wool sacks and straw stood opposite the door. A very familiar looking young man was currently swinging a sword around one of them.
"I wondered when you would show up again," she said as she marched over to her mysterious friend from Dhara.
Tate turned around and offered her a full watt grin. "Here I thought you would be searching all of Anscombe for me." He clamped a hand over his heart with dramatic flourish edged with playful sarcasm. "I'm heart broken, Rhaya."
She snickered in response, happy to see him again. Her encounters with Tate had helped to prepare her for what was ahead, which she was extremely grateful for. She couldn’t imagine being side-swiped by it all, like Zelene. "Playing hard to get, are you?"
He turned the force of his smoldering eyes on her. "Oh, I can play easy if you'd like."
She cocked her head to the side, her mouth hanging open. He was flirting with her, but she could tell he wasn't even remotely interested in her romantically. There wasn't a sign of love or lust or anything coming from him. She gave him a playful shove. "You are such a big flirt. You're hitting on me, and I know you wouldn't even follow through."
He waggled a finger at her. "There's that gift of yours again. Ruining all my fun. I like the new look," he said and gestured to her outfit.
Rhaya scrunched her mouth, pulling at the outfit she had picked out for the day. She had grown tired of the elaborate dresses the donnfay kept picking out for her, and after a lot of debating she had finally convinced them to let her dress herself. Today she had chosen a black chemise with a jagged hem line much akin to something a Flintstones character would wear underneath a bright blue cincher attached to an angled skirt of the same style, giving a layered look to her outfit as the skirt hung around her thighs. She had found a pair of knee-high black boots, though, as short as she was, she wished they had more of a heel to them.
"You're one to talk with your leather pants," she retorted.
"Speaking of pants, I'm pretty sure you're supposed to be wearing some with your outfit," he said as he made a point of looking her up and down with the kind of admiration Raemann most certainly would have killed him for.
She shrugged as if that didn't matter and draped her arm over the dummy he had just been assaulting. "I like it better without pants. So why were you sent to keep an eye on us? I mean, I understand the Cynewards, but what was your job?"
He used the bottom of his cream-colored tunic to wipe the sweat from his face. "My job was to keep an eye on any gifts or powers that might start manifesting and see if I could subtly guide you in your use of them. Help you to blend in with them in Dhara rather than stand out."
"So why were you picked for the job?" she asked as she took the sword from him and tested its weight in her own hands. "Because you could blend into our lives well?"
"Partially," he answered and corrected her grip, shifting her hands to where one was below the other on the hilt. "The other reason is because my family studies Dhara. My mother lives there; only comes back to report just like I did.”
“Certainly explains why you missed so much work at the bookstore.”
“Pfft...I could’ve kept that job if you hadn’t pointed that out to Raemann. Several times. He had to fire me so you wouldn’t get too suspicious.”
“How was I supposed to know you two were in cahoots? I’m an empath, not psychic,” she quipped. Rhaya put her hands on her hips and looked around the room. She didn’t like the look of all the weapons surrounding them. Their meeting in the training room seemed to imply that they might be learning how to use those weapons soon, and Rhaya was not at all ready for that. Sure, there was a war going on, but she hoped the Duillaine would at least come say hi before teaching them how to kill people they knew nothing about. “What are we doing here, anyway?”
“The Duillaine are busy trying to find out what happened to you guys and what to do with you now, so I’m here to give you some answers. To introduce you to our world.”
Rhaya’s tense shoulders relaxed, and she grabbed a chair from the other side of the room and plopped it down. “Great. Let’s get started.”
He rolled his eyes and retrieved a chair for himself. “Not yet. I’m not exactly keen on the idea of repeating myself, so we’re going to wait on Zelene. I sent Nolan to get her.”
“Who is Nolan?”
“Her brother.”
Rhaya blew out a breath that teased her bangs. “Wow…this whole family tree might be the most confusing thing out of this whole ordeal.”
“Tell me about it,” Zelene called from the doorway. She eyed Rhaya’s outfit and threw her hands in the air. “How come you get to dress all casual?”
Zelene had gone with a more formal look—a cherry bodice over top an elegant black scoop neck dress with red and gold trim. The sleeves were laced up in a crisscross pattern of red and came to a conclusion as a V-shaped fabric strip resting overtop the backs of her hands.
“I don’t know, I just, sort of got dressed. This is what I picked out,” Rhaya answered as she gestured to her outfit.
“The freaking donnfay.” Zelene stomped into the room, trailed by her brother and Ellowyn. She dragged a chair from the wall, sitting down in it with a huff. “They act like I’m their personal Barbie doll.”
Tate chuckled. “The donnfay think we aren’t capable of taking care of ourselves. Just assert yourself and they’ll get the idea. They’ll probably think your independence is cute.”
Zelene seemed to notice him for the first time. “You’re that creep from my biology class.”
Rhaya choked on a laugh. “I guess your covert operation didn’t go so well.”
He narrowed his eyes at Zelene. “Some of you made my job more difficult than others.”
Zelene stared at him dubiously. "Covert operation?"
Nolan cleared his throat as he offered Ellowyn a chair and retrieved one for himself. “I’m certain you have a lot of questions, which is why we are here. Tate is one of the treior.”
Rhaya raised her hand. “First question: What’s a treior?”
Tate leaned back in his chair as he answered. “You might refer to us as anthropologists or historians. Our duty is to study the worlds. This duty is passed down from generation to generation along with all the knowledge obtained. My family’s focus has always been Dhara. My mother lives there with other members of my family, studying everything about the society from politics to technology to religion.”
“Why?” Zelene asked. “I mean, our world is cut off from the rest of them, so why bother studying it?”
“Because it is cut off from the rest and from magic. Dhara has evolved and grown in ways our worlds cannot because of the connection to the elements. The people there are dependent on things like technology, whereas here the elements take care of most needs. I’m sure you’ve noticed how different
the two worlds are.”
Nolan leaned forward. “What are some of the differences? I’ve never been to Dhara, of course, but I understand it to be a more primitive world.”
Zelene snorted. “I think you’ve got that backwards, pal.”
“Explain it to him, then,” Tate suggested.
"Do you want us to state the blatant differences?" Zelene groaned at Tate’s affirmative nod. "Okay...I mean this whole world or whatever seems to be pretty medieval. No technology, which is pretty obvious seeing as how this room is lit by torches, and I get no cell phone signal here."
Rhaya's face lit with amusement. "You tried that too?"
Zelene nodded. "Habit. Who were you trying to call?"
"My Dad," Rhaya answered, "just to ask him a question. But good point on the lack of technology being hard to get used to. I miss my Nook. It died the second night we were here. I guess that's what I get for not charging it before I left the house."
"I was just thankful they had indoor plumbing," Zelene muttered.
Rhaya chuckled, but her thoughts were focused elsewhere. “I get what Zelene means about this world being more primitive. I mean, I love the whole magic thing. But what’s with the servants? That’s not cool. No offense, Ellowyn. You’ve been great. But…I mean, calling people Tainted? Having the donnfay wait on us hand and foot? The way the Cynewards are supposed to defend us with their lives but have no actual life for themselves? That’s not exactly what I’d call progressive.”
“Status here is determined by power,” Tate explained. “The Tainted have none, so it is believed by some that they are cursed.” He held up a hand to halt the protests forming on Zelene’s lips. “I’m not saying anyone here believes that. I lived on Dhara, too, remember. I had plenty of friends that would have been labeled as Tainted and I saw nothing wrong with them.”
Nolan patted Ellowyn’s hands, which were folded on her lap. “You are among friends here, Ellowyn. You may speak freely with us, just as you do with Zelene.”
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