Leaving Eden

by Kelly A Walker et al.

  I hadn’t brought much with me for the trip, expecting the villagers to provide all I’d need for my stay. Having had materials and know-how to even send a message to the Realm, I knew the Forus people would at least be somewhat civilized.

  I looked around me, studying the huts closest to me. Surely they’d have someone here to greet me!

  As the thought finished, the door to the tabernacle opened behind me, and I turned. A short and wide man with a bald head walked out, holding the door. Thank the Mother, he had on pants, although he forewent a tunic. Short, dark hair covered his chest like fur.

  “By the gods, Sarian, you have arrived!” the man said, jolly and inviting. I smiled in return. Perhaps things would go smoothly here after all.

  “I am Sarian La’Na Lyra, greetings.” I pulled the strap of my bag over my shoulder, the weight of my wet clothes inside reminding me of my delay in getting here. “I would have arrived much earlier but for the rains. They came early.”

  He nodded his head, clearly excited at my being here. “Well, please, let’s get you something to drink. I’ll have someone take your mount. Forus Adon will be here—”

  “I’m here now.”

  I turned at the deep, authoritative tone. A man who, I had no doubt, was Adon, the leader of the Forus people. He was tall and regal, with dark brown hair that barely touched his shoulders. He wore a sleeveless, saffron tunic with gold thread along the hem, open and showing his smooth chest. I was relieved he wore pants as well. He was a bit older than me, probably a good ten years, but it was hard to say with men.

  “Forus Adon?” I folded my hands in front of me, head held high. He put out a hand, and I stared at it. Was it a greeting?

  “Sarian. I am Forus Adon. Please, come in. Tymus, take her bags and place them in the front room.” He spoke so quickly I blinked. His hand was still out, expectant. I placed my hand in his but only for a moment after he squeezed it firmly and released it, turning on his heel and going inside. I followed.

  As we walked, I tried to get an idea of the rooms we passed. It was much darker inside, having no windows so close to the entrance. It was cool, and the place smelled of cloves and tobacco. A masculine but powerful scent, one I was used to when visiting the temple proper in the Tarian City.

  “Tell me about the illness, Forus. Prima La’Na didn’t go into detail. When did it start?” He slowed his pace and waved a hand to his left before entering a small circular room. Four low, cushioned chairs sat in a cozy room filled with natural light from the open windows. Rugs of bright reds and oranges blanketed the hard-packed floor.

  He gestured to one of the chairs. “Please, sit. I’ll explain while we dine.”

  I tilted my head in confusion. “Dine? I’m not hungry, sire—”

  He held out a hand. “You are my guest, we shall dine, Sarian…?” He looked at me expectantly, waiting for my name.

  I cleared my throat, trying to bite off a reprimand. “La’Na Lyra.”

  “Please, sit and rest a moment, Lana.”

  “Not Lana. La’Na Lyra. La’Na is a title.”

  His eyes twinkled, and I noticed they were ice blue, almost silver. When he didn’t reply back, I felt my cheeks grow warm as I sat down with a sigh, knowing he wasn’t going to budge.

  Looking satisfied, he nodded and reached for a small bell. Its tinny chime signaled a woman who, in moments, entered the room carrying a tray of glasses, a pitcher, and fruits. Barefoot, dressed in a beaded skirt and top, she was middle-aged and had a pleasant countenance about her.

  “Thank you, Deanna.” He poured me a glass of wine after the servant left, and I drank one sip before placing it on the tray. Forus wine was surprisingly delicious. But then again, anything would taste good after that seven-day journey of misery. I waited until he spoke, trying my best not to fidget. Idleness wasn’t something I was accustomed to.

  He leaned back in his chair and swirled the wine in a lazy circle. “It started about a month or so ago. It may have been around longer than that, but it didn’t catch anyone’s notice until then.”

  I nodded and made myself more comfortable. Finally, answers. “And the victims. How many have died?”

  He looked away, and for the first time since meeting him, I saw the true leader in the man. He cared for his people. “The first eight to succumb died. Those who have been…” he cleared his throat, “…down with it haven’t gotten worse, but haven’t gotten better, either.”

  He then began to recount the symptoms—fever, fatigue, stomach upset. Those seemed to be the first stage. Then the sweating would begin, followed by delirium, and twice, blindness.

  “And I assume you checked any possible culprit, water source, food?” I shook my head, my brow scrunched in thought.

  “Of course.” His brow rose, then fell. “Not a damn thing to be solved or pointed to. My people are at a loss.”

  I picked up my drink again and finished it, then placed the glass down on a nearby side-table. “I am ready to begin. Take me to your sickest first, then we’ll work from there.”

  Adon stared at me for a long moment with an expression I couldn’t begin to decipher. Maybe it was doubt. Then again, being a Wildlander, I’m sure he’d never even met a Sarian before. Regardless, it was he that called upon the Sarian Order for aid.

  Finally, he nodded. “Let’s go.”

  4

  JONAH

  After my examination of Advisor Cant, I went to visit one of the villager women, Molly, and her daughter Trinity. It broke my heart to see the youngest of our villagers so sick, so helpless, but since I was the only one Adon trusted with any healing knowledge, I had to face my own helplessness at not being able to do anything but comfort the sick.

  Day after day, the sickness took another, and I knew it was only a matter of time before everyone eventually fell ill. Thank Dovia that Advisor Cant had suggested seeking aid from the Twin Realm. With the power and reach they had, they were our last hope.

  “Is there anything you need for the evening, Molly? I can swing by again before I head up to the tabernacle.” I finished cleansing my hands in balsa oil, wiping the excess on a towel, and met Molly’s eyes. She was still sitting on the bed beside her daughter, cooling her down with a wet cloth.

  “No, Second, I thank ya. We’ll be fine until morning.” She turned her head and searched my face, her eyes sunken in and dull from worry and lack of sleep. The girl in the bed kept sleeping peacefully, oblivious to her mother and me. At least she’s not in pain anymore.

  “Very well,” I told her quietly. “I shall check in lat—” I cut off when I heard Adon speaking. When I turned around, my mouth hit the floor.

  Standing next to my friend was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Taller than the village women here, she came to Adon’s shoulder. She wore the customary blue robes of a Sarian healer. I’d only seen a few in my thirty years, but none of them looked like the one before me now. Young, like a soft flower, golden hair braided around her head. Her skin was like the lightest peach of a budding, white rose. I fought an insane desire to touch her cheek and see if it felt like a petal.

  Something hard hit my upper arm, tearing me away from the beauty in robes. “Ow, what?”

  Adon smirked, then patted the shoulder he’d hit. “Jonah, this is Lana. The Sarian. She’s come to see Trinity.” At the little girl’s name, the smirk was replaced with the now-familiar clench of his jaw. Adon, probably more than me, was taking this sickness just as hard. I knew how much he cared for his people.

  I nodded at him, then put the towel down. “Sarian Lana, we are grateful for your aid. I’m Secon—”

  Before I could finish, she passed me by, her robe brushing my arm. “Yes, Adon’s Second, Jonah. I heard. The child, when did she first start having the symptoms?” The Sarian moved to the other side of the bed, while an astonished Molly looked from her to me, then to Adon, her eyes wide.

  Apparently, the beauty was as determined as she was lovely.

  “Um… five days ag
o,” I quickly put in, feeling more confident in this topic than I did rose petals and golden braids.

  We watched as Lana touched the child’s temples, her palms covering Trinity’s cheeks. With her eyes closed, the Sarian breathed in, her expression composed but focused. I wasn’t exactly sure how a Sarian healed, so my curiosity quickly rose.

  Slowly, Lana withdrew her hands and tucked the blanket under Trinity’s chin. The little girl’s previously pale face was now a soft pink. I heard a gasp and realized Molly had noticed the girl’s complexion as well.

  “Is she… lady, did…oh, Dovia’s Prayers, thank you…” Molly went on, tears falling heavily from her eyes and onto the blanket. Reaching out, the Sarian grabbed Molly’s hand and smiled.

  “She will live another day. She will need as much rest as possible still, but she will live.” The certainty in her voice made me shiver, and my own eyes felt wet.

  Lana stood and turned to us. “Take me to the others.”

  “I will only allow you a few more to visit for the day, Lana,” Adon said, his tone harsh for some reason. It made me look at him. His eyes were almost hooded, and his lips were set tight. Interesting.

  “Again, my name is La’Na Lyra. Lana is not a name but a title.”

  Before I could turn back, her robes brushed by me again, leaving her back facing us as she headed to the door. Adon followed her out. Feeling like I was in a dream, I absently said my goodbyes to Molly and followed them outside.

  “I know my own limits, Adon… Forus. Please do not get in my way of helping your people.” The blonde stood proud and tall, reminding me of a mother deer defending her young.

  I stepped forward, cutting off whatever Adon was about to say. “We mean no offense, Sarian Lana…er, Lyra.” I coughed. “Forgive us, but you are our only hope. Surely you must understand our wanting to look out for your well-being as well.”

  She turned her attention to me then, her blue eyes shining with a passion I’d never seen in a woman before, one only seen in the greatest of Forus warriors. After a second, she sighed. “Very well. I shall heed to caution. Now, let us visit a few more, then you can do with me as you like.” Then she huffed off, having spied Tymus who was carrying a tub to Advisor Cant’s hut.

  “Well, she’s a feisty one, brother,” I said to Adon, a smile splitting my face as I watched the little wildcat grab the tub from a shocked Tymus.

  “That she is.”

  “Wait till Leon meets her.” I was feeling humorous and couldn’t help the quip.

  “Great Dovia help us all, Jonah.”

  5

  LYRA

  It was after healing the fourth ill villager that my energy began to wane. My shoulders ached and my brow had broken out into a sweat, along with a pounding headache that was emerging in full force.

  I was sitting on a bench in a stale hut when the golden-haired man, Jonah, said, “Lana, you must stop now. Adon, carry her to the tabernacle. She needs to eat and rest.” He gently held my chin and inspected my face. His soft brown eyes, the color of warm chestnuts, were wide and framed by dark lashes. There was a curious expression on his face. Concern?

  I wasn’t used to such close quarters with men, not to mention one touching me. In Eden, it was just the female Sarian guild that lived there. The male Sarian mostly traveled or were stationed at their main posts in higher up families and societies, although there was the Abbey in the Realm proper. Like Eden, it was a learning temple of Parame.

  “I’m fine, really. Just a bit winded.” My voice came out tired and belied my words, but I would manage. Just because I was a woman didn’t mean I needed to be coddled. He wasn’t buying it, though.

  “No, you’re not, Lana.” Adon stood next to his Second who finally released my chin. I had given up on explaining the La’Na title to them. For some ridiculous reason, it wasn’t penetrating their small minds.

  Before I could utter a complaint, I was in Adon’s strong arms and carried out into the night. A few villagers had torches set outside their huts, so there was enough light to see Adon’s kingly profile. I looked for any clue on his face that would tell me what he was thinking or feeling. Obviously I wasn’t too heavy for him—I might as well have been a pillow, the way he carried me with ease.

  “Oh, for the Mother, put me down, Forus Adon. I can walk.” My head pounded with each word. Admittedly, it was a relief to be off my feet and out of that stuffy hut.

  He grunted. “I’m sure you can. Jonah, run ahead—”

  “Already on it, Adon.” A flash of golden hair ran past us as Jonah went ahead to what I assumed was the tabernacle.

  Since it was going on full darkness now, no one was around. I felt the weight of the many days of travel I’d spent, plus healing four, very sick people. I must have closed my eyes for a bit, because before I knew it, we were inside a modest room where a few lanterns were lit. White bedding atop a make-shift mattress on the floor caught my eye, as well as a table laden with food. Adon set me down on a lone stool, then busied himself at the table. Jonah crouched down and started untying my riding boots.

  “Sarian, oh Dovia! Sire, will she be alright?” Tymus cried, floating into the room and clucking at my side like a hen.

  I was about to tell the little man that I was perfectly fine but something bread-like was shoved into my mouth. My eyes widened and I chewed automatically as Adon pressed a wine goblet in my hand. With my feet now bare, Jonah went behind me and started pulling out the braids in my hair, while Tymus was wringing my hand in a death grip—either to break my fingers or to comfort himself.

  What in the Mother had gotten into these silly men?

  “She will be, Tymus, as soon as she’s eaten and rested.” Adon pushed more food into my mouth, tsking when I started to protest. “You will not speak, Lana. Eat.”

  Mother Gana, would they ever say my name right?

  I rolled my eyes and finished the bread, then drank deeply. Aside from wanting to beat the man standing in front of me, I sighed, feeling a bit better already. Jonah and Adon eyed me warily, assessing me like a child. My temper rose.

  “I appreciate the concern, but I am fine. You may go.” I wrenched my hand out of Tymus’ death grip and stood up—only slightly wobbly. With my hair undone and falling past my waist, I was sure I looked like a wild thing. I straightened out the creases in my robe, not aware of the indignant expression on the leader’s face until I looked back up.

  Now, what was the matter?

  Adon crossed his arms and opened his mouth, about to speak, but Jonah stepped in front of him.

  “Sarian, as long as you are alright, we will leave you to rest. Is there anything you need?” Jonah’s kind smile and attentive manner created a tiny quiver in my chest, and I wondered at the feeling.

  Frowning but not meaning to, I waved him away. “Nothing but sleep, thank you.”

  Jonah nodded and placed his hand on Adon’s arm, seeming to pull him out of the room. Adon’s darkened look cleared for a second before his jaw clenched and he threw his hands in the air in something like defeat before walking away.

  Tymus bowed, wringing his hands as he followed his sire out. Jonah nodded at me with a smile and pulled the curtain closed behind him, leaving me alone in the room.

  I sighed and shook my head. Gana, their ways were odd.

  6

  LEON

  It was late, as usual, by the time I waded out of the river. The moon was high above the treetops, the sky clear and dark like ink. Nighttime had always hushed the chaos in me. The quiet and the shadows blanketed me like a fur in winter.

  I shook my head back and forth, raining water from my hair, then rubbed my face. Not a breeze in sight to dry me, but I didn’t mind walking back to the village still wet. No need for clothes or shoes, I grumbled my way through the brush and foliage, careful with my footing.

  It was my own damn fault that I’d been punished. Adon hadn’t given up on me yet, and that had to mean something. Still, the reminder that I had been a complete prick
to my brothers, to the people I’d lived among for the past twenty-six years, ate at me. I wasn’t so far gone as to lose my humility, that part of a man that knows he can’t count on just himself alone to survive. But losing Mara to another man had almost cut that part of me out. Almost.

  Mara. Since my hasdan, my warrior ceremony, she’d been promised to me. Her smile wicked and sinful. Her body ripening with every season, taunting me to the point that my cock was sore from my own hand in the mornings before I rose. I had been patient, waiting until Fifth Mark, and finally, she was mine.

  She was also Denton’s. And Garf’s. Even two poor sods in the neighboring Titep village.

  My jaw tensed as I cleared my head of the vile demon woman. She was far away from here now. Jonah said I needed another woman to bury my bone into, someone to take away Mara’s memory and taint—that last word was mine, not Jonah’s—someone to remind me that I was a Dovian Warrior, incapable of being bested by anything.

  A harsh laugh escaped my lips. Bested by a woman. But I guess it was better than being bested by a sickness, which was what Adon was faced with now. Jonah, too, honestly.

  Now that the Sarian woman was here, maybe there was hope. Beautiful woman, I had to admit. When I saw her at the boundary line, sitting tall and regal upon her horse, I thought I had drank too much. But then she’d opened her haughty mouth, showing me exactly who she was—proud like most people not from the Wildlands. Maybe if she pulled the stick out of her ass, she’d be able to help our people.

  I turned the corner when I saw the clearing up ahead. The huts inside were dark, the only light around being the torches that led to the tabernacle. I debated whether or not to just stay awake but decided to give in to my body’s need for sleep. I shook my head as I walked inside the sleeping building, entering its dark depths. With as much alcohol as I’d been consuming these past few weeks, my body thought me a traitor of the worst kind.

  Curious over my thoughts, I paused in the darkened hall, halting my trek to my room. For the first time in months, I wanted to come back to the living. I was tired. The anger of Mara’s leaving, her betrayal of our promise, and the idiocy of my infatuation had run its course. I was done.