by Jen Valena
“Hmm. Well, that is not how the story goes here. It is actually a stubborn young woman in a strange land who gives her young, but wise teacher all kinds of grief.” He turned his head skyward and chuckled at the stars.
Ithia elbowed him in the ribs.
“Stop that!” He narrowed playfully stern eyes.
“Or what?” she challenged.
“I will teach you a lesson—in respecting your elders.”
“Ha! You are barely older than me.” She nudged him again for good measure.
Caught up in her mischievousness, Tyrsten swung around to tickle her. But as he beheld her silver aura, he was transfixed. He swam deep in her eyes. His heart raced.
Ithia’s emotions swirled while she gazed back.
Seconds, or maybe hours, passed—each wondering what would happen next. The duality of nature wanted to join with its lost half. The question remained: how to proceed in this lifetime. Tyrsten’s heart and mind battled.
Tyrsten slowly lowered himself closer to Ithia, his own eyes echoing back in hers. Their lips were about to make contact. At the last moment, he turned his head and pressed his flushed cheek into hers. He breathed out a heated sigh onto her neck.
Ithia whispered, “A great philosopher said a pure pond has no fish.”
He cradled in her arms for a long while, pondering her statement. In a warm voice, hinted with a dash of humor, he responded, “Yes, and you muddy my mind plenty.”
He pulled back to study her face—hoping for a map to show him what to do. Tempting Fate again, he brushed his nose against hers.
The warmth of his lips grazed hers with only a molecule separating them. Her insides crumbled as he stopped himself once again.
“Ithia, we have learned our lessons for today.”
“That’s what we call on Earth—an understatement.”
He had let himself lose his self-restraint. He couldn’t allow this pattern to continue.
Tyrsten pushed against the ground and glumly fell beside her as Ithia sat up.
Feron came crashing out of the Vihar, calling out to Tyrsten. “I have just come back from Wayton with grim tidings. Garrick is determined to find Ithia. Troops move into the neighboring villages and the forests surrounding the Vihar. They raid homes of anyone with a connection to you. They know she is close. I do not doubt—he will find her here.”
9 ✹ Warrior’s Mastery
If not pushed from the comfort of my nest
I would not know the bliss of being, soaring in the starry heavens.
— Ithia Sydran
After she had gone to her room, Ithia overheard the rest of Feron’s report to Tyrsten. Her ears had become as keen as her eyes.
“Since Ithia’s arrival, the rough treatment of our people has escalated at an alarming rate,” Feron said. “Garrick has imposed martial law. What is next? Will he burn entire villages believed to be Magian sympathizers?”
Tyrsten tensed his fist around the blanket he had carried in. “Do not jest about such things.”
“I am serious.” Feron then whispered, “He tortures and kills those loyal to the old ways, loyal to Magians, to you—to Her.”
Tyrsten retreated to his room and paced the cramped space. Ithia felt his stress bleeding through the walls.
They had been lulled into a false sense of safety inside the Vihar. Of course, Garrick would track her down. He had done it once already, on another planet no less. She had put everyone at risk.
Ithia made up her mind to leave the next day. It would be harder for Garrick to find her if she was on the run. She could no longer be deluded by blissful ignorance at the Vihar. She couldn’t live with herself if the others were harmed because of her presence.
Her decision made, she finally fell asleep.
Ithia was in the Palace again. The cloaked, male figure hunted her.
She searched for something, a key to a door that would unlock her past.
The man cornered her and laughed. She couldn’t breathe. Again, she failed to glimpse a face, but lights sparkled from where his eyes would be. A Magian Sidari.
Though she could not see his face, there was something familiar about his presence, as if she should recognize the man haunting her dreams.
He grabbed her by the neck.
His hands squeezed tight around her throat.
Behind him, a shadow drew near.
Ithia screamed.
Tyrsten ran into her room.
She was coughing. She kicked frantically in her bed.
Tyrsten called, “Ithia.”
She opened her eyes.
“Another nightmare?” Tyrsten brushed sweat-damp hair from her face. He glanced about the room as if sensing something other than her anxiety-filled dream. He centered himself and quickly created a protective energy barrier around her.
She blushed at him rescuing her again from her nightmares. “Sorry to wake you.”
“What happened this time?”
Ithia rubbed her throat. “It was like the other one.”
Tyrsten noticed marks on her neck. “Bruises. This was not any dream. This was a psychic attack.”
“Bruises? How is that possible?”
Clearly rattled, Tyrsten tucked the covers around her. “Create a protective bubble for yourself.”
Ithia focused on making her bubble, but she was so flustered from the assault that she could barely make any energy glimmer between her hands.
She paused her attempt. “Can this kind of attack kill me?”
“More likely, the aim is to weaken you.”
Tyrsten wrinkled his forehead, considering his next move. “May I sleep with you?”
“What?”
He stuttered. “May I lie in the bed with you while we sleep? I can monitor you closely within a protective bubble and sense the slightest fluctuation in your energy field. If there is another attack, I can try to stop it.”
“Oh, sure. I would prefer that right now.” She scooted over and lifted up the covers for him to join her.
Her auric-light glowed dim, so in his most playful voice to put her at ease, Tyrsten said, “No taking advantage of me while I sleep. Be good.”
“Yeah, well, no promises. You are asking for trouble hanging around me.”
How true that is, he thought to himself.
He cast a large bubble around them. “Have you had other dreams like this attack?”
“Uh, yeah. But nothing like this. It gets worse each time.”
“You were to inform me of this sort of occurrence!”
“They were only dreams. I wanted to overcome them on my own.” Ithia shifted away from him. “I can’t rely on you to fix everything!”
He winced at her statement but knew she was correct. “What has happened in these dreams?” His voice was tight but understanding.
“Mostly he chases me. I usually force him away, but I’m drained when I wake up.”
“But not tonight.”
“He is stronger each time.”
Tyrsten stroked her bruises with healing energy, contemplating the power behind the attack. “I cannot fix everything. However, let me be here for you. Let me help.”
In her sleep beside Tyrsten, Ithia kept twitching. At one point, he disregarded his apprehensions and held her. In his embrace, her fidgeting subsided.
✹ ✹ ✹
Twinkling sunlight sliced through the window. Tyrsten’s muscular arm lay under her head. His other arm lay draped over her waist. She wrestled with the fantasy of staying forever within the safe haven of his embrace.
Ithia prepared for the possibility that Tyrsten would try to stop her from leaving the Vihar. She would pack before he woke up. Holding her breath, she carefully lifted his arm.
Tyrsten opened a sleepy eye and locked his arm around her. “Where do you think you are going?”
“Uh, I was… getting up,” she stuttered and hoped he couldn’t read her mind.
He tightened his grip, securing around her waist, pulling her closer. “And
?”
She laid back into him. “And,” she echoed back. “What?”
“I sense you plan on sneaking out of the Vihar—I gather I was wrong.” His voice didn’t suggest he was wrong at all.
“And what if I were?”
“That would be unwise.”
Ithia turned her head and found herself two inches from his face. “I put your family and friends, your home—in jeopardy.”
“I agree.” He sighed. “It is dangerous.”
“Then let me go.”
“No.” Tyrsten caressed her face with his hand.
Her heart lurched in her chest. “But—”
“I am going with you,” He interrupted. “I cannot sacrifice my friends by being here any longer. We have to stay on the move—keep Garrick guessing.”
“I should go by myself. You shouldn’t risk your life for me.”
“I am a fugitive as well. And I could never leave you out there alone.”
Ithia wanted to grumble a curse, but her face conveyed the same effect. “When do we leave?”
“Today, as soon as Huldo returns.” Tyrsten rolled onto his back and held a hand to his forehead. “I owe it to him to say goodbye.”
✹ ✹ ✹
Ithia poked at her breakfast of eggs and winter vegetables, knowing she should enjoy it since it might be the last decent meal she would have for a long while.
Then something occurred to her. “Who really is this Garrick? Have you actually confirmed anything about his true motivation?”
Tyrsten’s brows were drawn together thoughtfully as he answered. “Garrick is a mystery to us. He has lived secluded in Astroan for over twenty solar-turns.”
“Astroan?”
“The Palace’s name, meaning Star-Valley. Astroan was the meeting capital for the Magian Elders for many millennia.”
“Why did he take over?”
“He blames our societal problems on the Magians—although rumors say he is Magian himself. He claims he wants to restore order. I think he wants ultimate power over others. He has captured and probably killed all the Magians I have known.”
“Without the Magian teachers, what happens to the people wanting to be Actuated?”
“That may be exactly his point. However, if he is not a Magian himself, he must have at least one rogue Magian on his side. That Magian is likely the one behind your psychic attacks. In the last moon-cycle before your capture, we discovered Garrick searched for a young woman. He must be privy to Quanen’s vision and wants to use you to serve him. I cannot let that happen—for all our sakes.”
✹ ✹ ✹
Ithia spent most of the morning outside in a state of self-reflection. She worried about how Huldo would react to the news that they were leaving. The chilly wind on her face reminded her that winter was almost upon them.
She found Tyrsten in the kitchen preparing their rations. “How are we going to survive?”
“We have allies.”
“We also have people like Dag.”
“We might run into his variety.”
She shuddered, remembering Dag’s plot to poison her.
“We will stay at places that I believe to be safe. Places that are warded, protected. Until—” He stopped short, and his jaw fluttered with nervous muscles.
Ithia sensed he worried about her challenging Garrick.
Tyrsten shoved another wrapped loaf into his canvas bag, and said with a sigh, “We should pay more attention to warnings.” He forced a smile as he swung the pack onto his shoulder. “We must avoid the main commerce roadways, but I am familiar with the unpopulated routes, having to hide all these years, being what I am.”
✹ ✹ ✹
At noon, bustling noises in the main hall signaled Huldo, and the group had returned.
As the excitement wound down, Tyrsten put his hand on Huldo’s shoulder. “We need to talk.”
Huldo turned somber as he read Tyrsten’s face.
Tyrsten nodded to Feron and Ithia to follow them to his quarters. Four long faces entered Tyrsten’s tiny room. Ithia sat on the edge of the bed while the three men remained standing in the center of the room.
“What is going on?” Huldo asked nervously.
Tyrsten shut his door. “As I am sure you learned while you were in town, Garrick closes in on this area. I cannot have him discover the Vihar because he tracks us. Ithia and I leave within the hour.”
Huldo stared at Tyrsten for a long, tense moment. “First of all, if anything were to happen to this place, we would not blame you or Ithia.”
Tyrsten interrupted, “We endanger all of you if we stay.”
Huldo calmly put his hand up in the air at his brother, requesting he be allowed to finish. “I was not done. Second, I agree that you should leave. It is better if you are on the move.” Tyrsten relaxed his shoulders until Huldo added, “And third, I am coming with you.”
Ithia jumped up in protest. “No!”
Huldo grabbed at his heart with mock hurt. “I thought you liked me.”
“I can’t allow you to risk your life.”
“Too late. I risk my life every day, without your approval.”
Feron rested his hands on each brother’s shoulder. “Someone must keep an eye on all of you. And that someone is me.”
“Not you too!” Ithia threw her arms in the air.
Huldo laughed. “Did you want Tyrsten all to yourself?”
“We are not going to let you scramble out of here without some help.” Feron flicked at his black and gray uniform with disgust. “I trained to be Garrick’s soldier for a reason. If I travel with you, I can keep you safe.” His face then fell between pride and jest. “And none of you cook worth a damn.”
Tyrsten paced the room, his signature move. “Fine. But I am in charge. If I say go, you go.”
Huldo stood at attention. “Yes, sir!”
Tyrsten scowled for a moment, then nodded in surrender.
✹ ✹ ✹
An hour later, gravity weighed on everyone’s shoulders. Huldo and Anise exchanged tearful goodbyes. Ithia stayed in her room, burdened with guilt.
Tyrsten noticed her absence between farewells. He found Ithia in her room, sitting on the floor with most of her things packed into a leather saddle bag.
He sat down on the floor next to her. “How are you faring?”
“I’m a tornado destroying lives.”
He put his arm over her shoulders in a half embrace. “None of us are truly safe here or anywhere else. That fact has nothing to do with you. However, you could be the key to changing that for us. We need you.” With a warmhearted touch to her chin, he guided her back directly to his eyes. “I need you.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.
Ithia collapsed into his arms.
“I have something for you. Feron brought it back from the village upon my request.” He pulled out a small cloth-wrapped present.
Ithia unfolded the cloth to reveal a beautiful silver chain linked together in an intricate weave. Baffled, she asked, “What is this for?”
“You should wear your pendant. Although I suggest tucking it under your clothing to conceal the Magian symbol.” He smiled, expectantly. “Is the style to your liking?”
Ithia held it in her hands as if it were a live snake, uncertain what to think of his generosity. She wasn’t used to people giving her gifts. “This is expensive.” She tried to hand it back. “It’s too much.”
“You have trouble accepting anything, from presents to compliments. You deserve the gifts you receive. You must learn to accept small gifts from the Universe before the Great Source will bestow more significant ones.”
Tyrsten snatched up the pendant that lay in front of her and strung the two pieces together. He swept back her hair, exposing her neck. He clasped the chain and skimmed her neck with his fingertips as the necklace fell against her skin. He noticed he created a shiver down her spine. Tyrsten circled around to admire the ensemble. “No more arguments.”
Wearing her penda
nt again, she felt empowered.
He wiped away a tear on her face. “Everyone wants to see you before you go.”
✹ ✹ ✹
As Tyrsten and Ithia rode toward the tree maze passageway that protected the Vihar, Feron and Huldo followed close behind.
“No one was told where we are headed,” Tyrsten assured Ithia.
“And I thought I was special being the only one out of the loop,” Ithia said levelly.
“Is your whole world filled with sarcasm?” Huldo asked, “Or is that your gift alone?”
“Well, it is one of my talents. I might be able to teach you one day. You show promise.”
Huldo bowed. “I hope you find me a worthy student.”
“You very well may be,” Ithia said. Then a dread passed over her as she remembered the cloaked man that kidnapped her had used that same phrase.
Feron pestered Huldo, “Are you sure you packed all your supplies?”
“I told you I did. Three times!” Huldo sighed. “Between you and Tyrsten, I have a nagging mother and a scolding father!”
As they reached the mouth of the maze, Ithia turned back and caught sight of Nolan staring at her. She was bothered by his expression and was glad to be rid of him.
Ithia handled the confined passage of the tree maze better this time since she had an idea of how long she had to endure her claustrophobia. Nevertheless, she was much relieved once they were back on open ground.
They set out in the direction of the clearing where they had camped the night after Tyrsten recovered from his poisoning. Ithia didn’t like going back this way, a little too much like visiting a bad memory.
Ithia stared at Feron. At the Vihar, they had rarely talked beyond his tutoring on Ma’thean books, cooking and herbs. Feron was a nurturing type, constantly attending to the needs of others. It seemed strange that he would masquerade as a soldier.