| The convoy moved only until the City of Tears was well out of sight. Dharin was sitting upright in his cart, deep in thought and sketching when the cart lurched, signaling a stop for the night. Jenya, who had been humming softly, barely in tune, looked at Dharin questioningly for a split second. He had assumed they would be travelling the entire night but before he asked the question he already knew the answer. Dharin gave everyone the impression that they would be marching all night, because otherwise Rheim would have sent assassins; and it wasn't necessary to make the servants march all night when they could just outwit their undeclared enemies. "They should have food prepared soon," Dharin muttered, setting his drawings aside and standing up. Jenya stood as well and began straightening his bed. "You think too much," Jenya snickered. "Why are you always in another world?" Dharin was stepping outside the cart, so Jenya had to follow quickly to hear the answer. "It lets me escape, and there is always something to think about, some important matter that needs to be dealt with." "What do you need to escape from?" Jenya was slightly surprised. He had known Dharin since childhood, and knew that his friend was usually thinking on some level, but he had always assumed it was about battle tactics. "Life," Dharin laughed. "Only sometimes, anyways. When I was a child, everything was perfect. At least, that's what I thought because I was too young to know better. Then my parents died, I left for the Bastion. I drowned myself in training, in being the best because it was what they would have wanted. I miss my parents, Jenya, but -" he paused, sorting the words out. "I don't want to be the best anymore. Being the best means that the Taer'shal know my name, my face. One of the children we took told Kelnai that they have a list of tortures just for me. They would keep me alive for days, taking me apart like a puzzle and sending the pieces to the members of my company." He stopped again, a confusion seated in his brain made it hard to express exactly what he was thinking. "I wouldn't want any of you to have to put me together again," he laughed. It wasn't that he feared death or torture, he would simply prefer to spare those he considered his friends severe emotional trauma. "But you also don't want anyone else in control," Jenya said softly. "You've always seen through me," Dharin laughed again. "That's why I've always trusted you. That's why once I'm gone I want you to take my place. I'm sure Acharya would approve in a heartbeat, and Sha'en, Lalreth and Kelnai all look up to you." "Sha'en and Lalreth don't swoon for me they way they would for you," Jenya snickered. "But if it means that much to you, I'll take your place." Dharin held out his hand in an informal gesture of secession. As Jenya clasped his friend's hand, he let out a soft chuckle. "Maybe they'll swoon more for me once you leave." Both knew the joke was not heartfelt. Jenya had long since been keeping an eye out for someone else, but both laughed anyways. Jenya let go of his friend's hand, shaking his head as he walked outside. The smell of something edible hung thinly in the air. Corridan and Felanya walked past Jenya's cart, laughing over a story about a huge black bird that survived from the Old World. Jenya never understood the story, or why it was funny to either of them. He passed the both of them, assuming they were on their way to set wards around the camp, just in case the Dheral of Dor'atehn sent scouts. A ways from the carts, Seer was setting up a coran'hai and cushions for Dharin, Jenya and herself. Kelnai had been offered a place, but had politely declined. She preferred instead to dine with Sha'en and Lalreth, and Tearahn. Seer smiled as Jenya approached, followed by Dharin. "You seem awfully happy now," Jenya remarked. The Mage's posture had improved, and her eyes didn't seem so dark. Instead of the scathing retort Jenya would have expected, Seer only laughed. "And you seem awfully sarcastic. In any event, I believe I have a right to be happy." She seated herself before the coran'hai. Swirls of soft green and blue turned restlessly within the light orb. A moth was drawn to it, and upon landing promptly lost its feet to the heat of the Cair’leih contained within the sphere. The slight flash startled Jenya; he had no idea the orbs could do that. The moth, as it fell flapping its smoldering wings, caught and held Jenya's attention. He stepped over to where the insect had fallen, and seated himself on the cushion before the coran'hai, watching the moth flit on its back as he waiting for servants to bring food over. "What makes the orb do that?" Dharin barely smiled as he took his place next to Mal'kenar. "I was always under the impression that the light, the energy contained in a coran'hai was...cold." Mal'kenar nodded as her eyes swept quickly past the fast dying bug. "It always has been, but in recent months they all grow warmer. I brought this to the Acharya's attention, and he now has a small group of trustworthy Svearin looking into the matter. He believes that the warmth is a warning sign." Allowing his attention to be pulled elsewhere, Jenya pressed his leather-covered foot over the dying insect, ending its frantic spasms. "Warning of what? From whom?" "He cannot be certain, of course, but signs suggest that the energies themselves are whispering to the people that wield them that something massive is coming. Something that is going to change the world." She closed her eyes, lifting her face to the wind in an attempt to let the breeze drown out the soft whispers in her head. Though her eyes were shut, she still saw a ring of fire. The flames were a focused, hateful black stirring. Unlike the entrancingly erratic amber radiations of natural flame, this fire wrapped itself around two still forms, pulsating with a rhythm resembling its own heartbeat. The grass outside the ring of black flame wilted, crackled and snapped. There was a sound like weeping... "Seer?" Jenya's voice spoke her chosen name as Dharin's spoke the name her mother gave her. She opened her eyes and blinked away a tear. "Please do not call me by those names anymore. For all my visions, I have seen nothing. And for all my wrongdoing, I am not a mistake." Jenya nodded, understanding the hatred and disappointment attached to her given name. Malan kenara, the terrible mistake, was no name for a child. Shortening it to Mal'kenar did nothing to take the sharpness away from the words. "What should we call you by then? Will you answer to the name you tell us to call you, or will you just change your mind and never tell us what it means?" Dharin's voice became cold, because he did not understand. His parents had always trusted him, nurtured him, and loved him. They had never told him that the world would be a better place for his absence, and that he should crawl into a cave and die quietly. "For all your intelligence, you know nothing of who you are." She did not mean to sound so cruel. Dharin stood and clenched his fists. He loved this Mage, but why did she make things so hard? "Then tell me! Your eyes have seen so much, your mind is so full of things that I do not understand, so tell me! Make me understand!" She sighed, and looked to Jenya, who once again had become calm and quiet. Jenya shrugged. "Dharin, sit down. Food is coming, and you need to eat because we all know how grumpy you get on an empty stomach." Dharin glared at his friend, but regained his composure and sat down nonetheless. "Make me understand," he repeated softly. "Please." Nodding, the Mage began speaking, not even pausing when the servants brought her food. "Immediately after the death of the Old World, people began to organize themselves to fight the evils that remained on this side of the Rift. Sharan'akar needed these people, just as we needed the Acharya. All of the people that stepped forward to guard the world had at least the potential to be Magi, but none of them chose to be blessed. While they supported the Acharya in the beginning, none of them trusted him enough to allow him to bless them. They all said that they did not want to become his tools. Acharya accepted this, and requested that they still support him, since they seemed to be on the same side. He respected them, and acknowledged the sway they held over the people of Sharan'akar. By the year 40 Moran'a'nai, the people had split into two groups, the House of the Sun, and the House of the Moon. They split to specialize their abilities; Children of the Sun became puzzle makers and pranksters and Children of the Moon became philosophers. The houses tried to preserve ways of the old world, their religion, and their language. What most people recognize as Magi Tongue is actually Kaer'melthek, the language of the houses. It is a derivative of a language from the Old World that the Houses struggled to preserve. Most descendents recognize bits and pieces without ever realizing why. It is in their blood." "If these Houses were so important to the Acharya, why are there so few of its members left?" Dharin was exhibiting an extraordinary lack of understanding. "They were scattered by the Acharya, and then he took power, keeping the peace with his Cleansers. But there are references to Sun and Moon Children on the Cerdaiya, and I cannot figure out the meaning. They still have a great part to play in the history of Sharan'akar." She furrowed her brow, careful not to close her eyes for too long. She could barely remember the letters carved into the Cerdaiya. "There aren't very many of us," Jenya laughed. "Three, last count I took." The Mage looked Jenya in the eye and smiled cryptically. "It only takes one person to change the world forever." "That's it? That's all there is to the history of the Houses? I learned that in the Bastion. Every Tracker learns that in the Bastion." Dharin laughed irritably. "The Houses were great; their members were intelligent, resourceful and honest. Then they began to turn against the Acharya. Several of their most powerful members left, and the Houses fell apart. There is a slight chance that there are more descendants in this world, but you two and Shorin are the only obvious Children. Jenya's son speaks Kaer'melthek, and he understands it. You, Dharin, possess an incredible intellect rarely seen in one other than a Moon-Chylde. You three are going to be important." She spoke sadly, as if there were no place for her in this world. "Yes, we're important, we understood that the first time. So, what new name do you have for us to call you?" Jenya smiled, killing the seriousness of the conversation. "My mother named me a terrible mistake, I'll name myself a terrible person. Mal'aran. There must be some purpose for me in this world, but I am missing it. I do not feel that I am a mistake, yet I know there is much I have to learn. Once the last mission is done with, I'm travelling to Varikelle, the stronghold of the dead houses. There are things I wish to see." Mal'aran nodded decisively, not even bothering to raise her eyes to the sky. She had become tired of depending upon Acharya, and his symbols. "And I suppose I can assume that where she goes, you follow?" Jenya raised an eyebrow, still smirking. Dharin sighed, but nodded. "I think my place should be with her." He said nothing of the visions that plagued his sleep, or the fear that if he remained near Jenya, they both would die. "So incredibly touching," an irritatingly musical voice laughed. The three turned to see Felanya and Corridan, standing side by side. Three Magi stood behind them, and the smiles that split their faces made Jenya uneasy. "Be respectful dears," Felanya grinned. "We have company now." |