Only a Glow

by Nichelle Rae

  How could she not have control over it? I didn’t understand. It was her magic! What I also found disturbing was that the White Warrior in her, the part that came to life when Azrel lost control, seemed to be progressing, strengthening. It had started out as shocking displays of her furious temper aimed at Rabryn and Beldorn. Then it had gone a step farther when she attacked me and used a little of her magic to cut off my breathing with her hands nowhere near my throat. Tonight she’d screamed so insanely, so unnaturally, it was as if she were going mad. Her magic had ignited as she screamed, incinerated the men closest to her into ash. Freed from their grip, she’d fallen to her knees and looked like she was kneeling in a white bonfire until she transformed into the White Warrior.

  I shook my head. Maybe Rabryn could make sense of what was happening to Azrel, because I sure couldn’t. He was a lot wiser than I would have given him credit for at the beginning of this journey. I was going to need his help to try to figure it out and save Azrel from the destruction that the wisp of mist had predicted.

  I absently placed my hand on the hilt of my sword—the sword that had cut my neck, the sword that had killed Norka. I wanted to get rid of it. I wanted to throw it in the pond before me, but I felt a strange connection to Norka through it. Norka had given his life to save mine. The only comfort I found in that was that Norka was at peace and he never had to go back to Tribeltwel. I said a soft prayer asking the Light Gods to care for Norka, my friend.

  “That was a nice prayer,” Rabryn said from behind me.

  I spun around. He walked up to me and sat down at my side. I sighed and rested my hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded without lifting his eyes. “I need to talk to you.”

  I nodded. “I need to talk to you, too.”

  The tall reeds of the small pond were scattered along the bank, hiding us a little from sight. The breeze blew them gently to the side and softly rippled the water. It was quiet for a few moments before Rabryn spoke.

  “I need you to tell me what happened after I was mercifully knocked unconscious.”

  I blew out a breath and ran my fingers through my hair. “You missed all the fun.”

  “Fun? What happened?”

  “I think your sister went temporarily insane,” I replied. Then I told him what had happened with Azrel’s unnatural scream, her transformation and the details of the fight. Rabryn particularly liked hearing that Azrel had made Norka’s killer explode, but his teeth clenched when I told him Jaravel had escaped.

  “How was Norka discovered? His hood was up, so no one could see him.”

  I rubbed my hand over my face and tried to moisten my tongue to prepare for what I had to say, to tell him Norka had died for me. My hand went to my throat and I held it securely as if my head still might fall off my shoulders. “While one of them was holding my sword to my neck he called for Azrel’s attention”—my eyes closed and I had to pause a moment— “so Azrel could watch him slit my throat.”

  “What?!” Rabryn cried.

  I squeezed my eyes shut tighter and nodded as I clutched my neck more firmly where I had been cut, again feeling the cold steel of the blade splitting open my skin. I hissed inwardly through my teeth at remembering how it felt. I doubt anyone had ever survived such a wound to recall what it felt like, yet here I was.

  “Norka saved me,” I said after a moment. “He grabbed my throat and used his magic to heal me.” I tried to swallow again and bowed my head. “As he was screaming from the pain of using his magic, the man who cut me slashed at the air where Norka’s screams were coming from, and killed him.”

  Rabryn’s eyes were wide as he sat trembling silently for a moment. “And that’s the one Azrel exploded with her magic?” I nodded. He looked out over the water. “Good.”

  It was quiet for a long time. Only the sound of the breeze blowing through the reeds and the water gently lapping the shore could be heard. I looked up at the night sky and thought about Azrel. Was she okay? What could be wrong with her? I gazed at the crescent moon shining brightly in the clear sky. Azrel loved the moon. She told me a long time ago, when we still lived in our cave, that the moon was her favorite heavenly body, more beautiful than the shinning sun. She also told me she loved a rainy day more than a sunny one. She was so different in the most beautiful ways. I pictured Azrel’s eyes staring at me in the night and I smiled. I wished I could hold her and protect her from everything evil, forever. I wished we could lie here together in each other’s arms and talk about how much we were enjoying the night sky.

  “Have you told her you love her yet?” Rabryn asked.

  I sighed and looked down at my lap. “No, not yet. I wish I…” I snapped to attention, suddenly realizing what he’d just asked, and looked at him. He had a soft, knowing smirk on his face. “How do you…”

  His smirked opened into a grin. “Oh, please. I see it every time you look at her.”

  I smiled self-consciously and looked over the water. “I didn't know I was making it that obvious.” Then my smile faded. “It’s not obvious to Azrel.”

  “She’ll understand it someday. She just has too much happening right now.”

  I nodded. “Rabryn, what did you need to talk to me about?”

  “Something that will make you think I’m insane,” he said without expression or emotion.

  “What?” I said in a laugh. “Why would I think that?”

  His eyebrows jumped up slightly. “Because it might be true.”

  The seriousness of his tone held back my laughter. My smiled faded and my brows drew together in concern. “What happened?”

  He sighed and laced his fingers together, resting his elbows on his knees and bringing his hands in front of his mouth. He stared into the water as he spoke. “Do you believe in ghosts, or spirits that walk the land?”

  My mind immediately went to the glowing mist I saw after Azrel attacked me. My expression hardened in awareness. “Why?”

  “Because I think I saw one.”

  I tried to keep my voice neutral though my brows were drawn together. “Really?”

  He laughed without mirth and looked down. “You’re going to kill me for talking like this.”

  “Rabryn,” I said firmly—maybe too firmly— “tell me what you saw.”

  Noticing my tone, he snapped his head to look at me and quietly studied my face. His eyes suddenly went wide. “You’ve seen one too, haven’t you?”

  I didn’t answer him. “Just tell me what you saw.”

  He kept his eyes on me for a moment without answering, then his gaze went to his lap and he rested his forearms on his knees. “When Relrand was…touching me,” he winced at his own words, recalling the horrifying moment. “I was looking up at Azrel, begging her with my eyes to help me because you know how well she can read them. I selfishly pleaded with her to help me, though I knew she was just as helpless as I was—without her magic, at least. That’s when the ghost appeared.”

  I felt my face flush pale. “What did the ghost look like?”

  He shook his head. “There was no definite shape about it. It just looked like a small patch of bright white fog. The only reason I didn’t dismiss it as fog was because of the two brighter lights that kind of floated in the middle of it. I assumed they were eyes.”

  I suddenly realized I was holding my breath and let it out in a whoosh. I couldn’t believe what he was saying. What was the story of this fog? If it was some strange ghost or spirit, what was it doing here? And how could I sit and have a talk with it? Did it know something that could help Azrel?

  It seemed to have helped by telling me to “remind Azrel of what she was” by starting that battle with the Gibirs. I could clearly see that she had seemed lighter and happier since that battle, despite Rabryn’s wound. Maybe this spirit could help her more with whatever troubled her.

  My head pounded with so many questions and the need for answers. I started to massage my temples to ease the worry and stress that were giving me a headache. The
mist had told me that Azrel would die if she didn’t accept her magic. I’d just barely gotten Azrel back, and now the threat of losing her again presented itself. Gods, I couldn’t go through that loss again. I had to talk to this fog, or spirit, or whatever it was, again.

  “You’ve seen the fog, too, haven’t you?”

  I continued to massage my temples, my eyes squeezed shut. “Keep talking, Rabryn. What did the ghost say to you?”

  “How did you know it could talk?” I froze and looked over at him. He studied my face for an instant, then let out a relieved breath before looking out over the water again. “Good. If you’ve seen it then I’m not crazy.”

  I smiling slightly and I dropped my arms into my lap. “What did it say?”

  “I guess it saw me begging Azrel for help because the first thing it said to me was, ‘She cannot help you, but you can help her. By helping her, you can help yourself and the rest of the quest. Muster all the anger you can in your heart and let it release as I tell you to.’” Rabryn shook his head slowly. “Rage suddenly overcame me unlike anything I thought it possible to feel. I don’t know where it came from, but I doubt it came from me alone.

  “Suddenly, the voice cried out, ‘Butt your head back with all your strength!’ So I did. I even hurt my neck a bit with how hard I hit him. Next it cried out, ‘Drop to your shoulder!’ So I did. ‘Kick into his nose at an upward angle!’ So I did. I knew immediately that I had killed him.” Rabryn suddenly started wringing his hands nervously as he stared wide eyed over the pond. “I've never killed anyone before,” he swallowed heavily, “and I liked it. Is that wrong?”

  I shook my head. “No, it's not. All warriors, including Azrel and me, get a thrilling sensation when they kill an enemy. Salynns, regardless of where they’re raised or who raises them, they all have the heart of a warrior. You are no different, my friend.” He looked at me with deep appreciation, which made me smile. Rabryn really was very brave. A true warrior if ever I saw one.

  “What happened after you killed Relrand?”

  He shrugged. “Well, I couldn’t do much more because I was restrained pretty quickly. The voice went on, ‘Stay angry. Keep feeding the rage. Don’t let it waver yet.’ So I didn't. What I said to Jaravel,” he nodded, “the fog told me to say that. It also told me to spit in his face. I saw what he did to Azrel the two times she spat at him so I was a little hesitant, but something compelled me to do it anyway. I don’t know if it was the ghost, but in my heart I felt I should do it, so I did.” He sighed. “And just before Jaravel started breaking my face, I saw that the mist was gone.”

  It was quiet as I tried to link his encounter, with what happened between me and the fog, but my mind was mud. I sighed and hoped that when Rabryn hears what happened with me, he could come to some conclusion, or at least make some sense of it.

  “Rabryn,” I said at last, “you’re a lot wiser than I originally gave you credit for. Some level of wisdom must be born into Salynns along with the heart of a warrior, regardless of where they’re raised. I need your wisdom now if you can manage.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “That’s all I ask. My mind can’t seem to comprehend anything, and I’m worried about what the recent events mean for Azrel.” I looked at him seriously. “Yes, I have seen that foggy ghostly figure before—two nights ago.”

  “What happened two nights ago?”

  I sighed and told him about Azrel’s attack on me. I compared it to her reactions toward him and Beldorn when they’d pressed her about things concerning her magic. I told him what the mist had said.

  “That’s why I started that needless battle with the Gibirs the next morning. I had to remind her of the fact that she was a warrior, like the mist told me. The mist said that if she didn’t remember soon, she would die. Starting that battle worked; at least I think it did. I watched her the entire time you were asleep. I studied her and I got the impression that she felt somewhat different, more clear headed perhaps, because of that battle. But she didn’t say anything about being in that weird detached mindset during it, and I really don’t think she was.

  “But she most certainly had been when she attacked me the night before. Tonight she was, as well. In the small amount of words we shared tonight, I got the impression that, yet again, she had had no control over her actions. It seemed to me that she really had felt as though someone else was speaking and moving for her.” I swallowed hard. “Maybe the danger that the spirit, mist thing talked about relates to Azrel’s lack of control over her magic, or in not remembering the warrior she was born to be. Or both. I don’t know; I was hoping you could find a connection and we can make sense of this and maybe help her.”

  I waited as Rabryn turned his thoughtful gaze across the water to the opposite shore. He seemed to be searching the swaying reeds on the bank for an answer, running possibilities through his head and weighing the facts. He remained quiet for a long time. A frog croaked in the distance, followed by a soft plunk as it leaped into the water.

  Finally, Rabryn shook his head and turned to me. “I don't see any connection yet, but we need to keep an eye on her, note everything she does and bring this up to Beldorn when we get to Rocksheloc.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Hopefully we make it there alive,” I said flatly.

  “We’ll be fine. We’ll make it.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than me.

  I stoked Forfirith’s cheek as we stood at the base of the mountains. “Aren’t they gorgeous?” I said. My horse nudged my face in response. I almost wished that the mouth of Crox Path wasn’t in front of us. I wouldn’t have minded taking the rougher route up into the mountains, but the cost of time wasn’t something we could afford.

  I idly stroked the necklace chain in my pocket and mentally scolded it for causing all this trouble. Oh well. There wasn’t anything we could do about it. We just had to plod through the mess around us.

  I looked back at Ortheldo as he finished packing Urlyia. “How long before we’re near Hellsville?” I asked, meaning Narcatertus. Ortheldo threw his head back and laughed. I couldn’t help but smile at the sound of it. Even Rabryn, who was already mounted on Eleclya, smiled broadly.

  “It’s ten days,” Ortheldo replied, chuckling, “Rocksheloc an additional three.”

  I nodded and mounted my horse. “Stay north of Crox and we can avoid it, right?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  I smiled at him as he mounted his horse. Then I looked at the massive mouth of Crox Path. “Alright, boys, let’s go.” I nudge my heels into Forfirith’s side and urged him forward.

  Crox Path was a well traveled pass through the Mongerst Mountains, constantly used by merchants and hawkers and travelers of all kinds. Villages spread throughout the mountains and valleys that made traveling businessmen wealthy. Some villages were rather elegant and others weren’t much different from The Pitt. I remembered learning about some of these villages. Some had a significant history; others were so small they were barely known to exist.

  We traveled for the last remaining hours of the day and had yet to come across another person. “Ortheldo, shouldn’t we have seen someone by now?”

  He shook his head. “Not this late in the day. The nearest town is still a few hours ride.” I nodded, surprised at how much I’d forgotten from my father’s teachings and my travels with Beldorn.

  So, we rode for a few more hours. Once night fell, we finally came across a few people in a small village. Seeing different faces was a nice breath of fresh air. For eight years, I’d seen the same ugly, hateful faces day in and day out. Even Rabryn gazed about in wonder at the different faces. He’d seen the same faces for seventeen years! When he saw me looking at his wide-eyed expression, it melted into a small smile.

  We passed though the village. I was careful to keep our path northward to avoid Narcatertus. An hour later, another village opened up to us, but we passed right through that one as well. I began to wonder what Ortheldo was waiting for. “Are we going to s
top for the night or what?”

  He smiled, “Soon. The Oaksher Inn in Oaksher village is just ahead.”

  “Is the Oaksher Inn someplace special to you?”

  “Yeah, right,” he said flatly. “Hoibur, the inn keeper, owes me a favor. Considering we have no money thanks to the Dirty 30,” he gave me a wide, toothy grin, “I’d say now is a good time to cash in that favor.”

  “Why does he owe you a favor?” Rabryn asked before I could.

  He shrugged and looked away. “I saved his daughter from being raped and probably beaten to a pulp.”

  I stared at him in wonder.

  “How did you do that?” Rabryn asked, again before I could get the words out.

  Ortheldo shrugged again, not taking his eyes off the wide dirt road ahead. “Some drunken passerby came into the inn while I was there and started a ruckus. He grabbed Hoibur’s thirteen-year-old daughter, threatening her life and innocence, so I broke his jaw and threw him out.”

  “How long ago was this?” I asked, suddenly wondering what else he’d been up to while we’d been separated.

  His eyes turned up to the sky as he thought about it for a moment. “Three years maybe.”

  “Will Hoibur remember you?” Rabryn asked.

  “I think so. If he doesn’t, then Ibalissa will.”

  I tightened my jaw. She’d be sixteen now, and no doubt a prostitute. “Well, you’ve certainly been busy without me, haven’t you?” I didn’t mean for my tone to come out like it did, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “Yeah, you could say that.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself silent. The Gods only knew what that man had done over the past nine years. My insides twisted with a suddenly thought: he probably had a woman somewhere out there. He surely hadn’t been alone all that time. I suddenly felt like I needed to throw up.

  Why? Snap out of it, girl! I scolded myself. What did I care if he did or not?

  It was a pang of jealousy—that’s how much I cared.

  No! I wasn’t jealous that he could have a woman, a girl, a love. I was just jealous because I didn’t.