Chapter Six

She hadn’t really meant to sneak away from her mother’s side that night, but the call in her heart had been too strong to allow her to sleep and she’d weaved her way among the huddled bodies of the fire-ones, avoiding tails and wings until she climbed out of the floor of the cavern and up on to one of the ledges that led to the outside world. After looking back at her pack once more, she moved forward into the darkness ahead. Her eyes were more than accustomed to the shadows of the caves and she made her way without getting lost to where she knew the strangers would be camped out. She’d visited them once before, when the gray-eyed one had been sleeping, but had left quickly after.

Now she was planning on staying a little longer, on observing how they interacted and how she might communicate with them. It was a good plan, she knew, but as she crept forward, she realized there was a flaw in the idea she had in her mind already.

All the strangers were asleep!

Well, no, not all of them. The one with red hair similar to her own was awake, but when he saw her, he made no sounds and didn’t move, merely watching as she cautiously crept forward on her hands and feet. Her ambers eyes left him long enough to search out the bodies wrapped in furs, but she didn’t see the one she was looking for and frowned, confused.

Movement from the red-haired stranger had her jumping back, teeth bared warningly, but he had just raised his hand slightly and was pointing toward the opening to the cave. She stared at him for a moment, not understanding, but he just looked at her and then toward the opening and thrust his finger a little bit more until she looked the way he pointed.

She saw then the shadow of a figure outside the cave and understanding came swiftly. She looked back at the red-haired stranger and edged around him carefully until she was at a safe enough distance to turn around without the risk of attack. She did so then and headed toward the entrance of the cavern, all the while storing away the memory of the pointing gesture for future reference. Clearly it was a way to show someone something and she might need that.

Though, how the red-haired stranger had known what she wanted was a mystery.

The thought was a puzzling one in her mind as she came out into the open, all hesitation in her body gone as she recognized the figure of the gray-eyed stranger sitting near the edge of the mountain drop. It was dark and the wind bit into her skin and sliced through her clothes, but she didn’t mind all that much as she moved toward the male, tilting her head as she circled to the side of his body, a safe distance away as she crouched, waiting.

He knew she was here. She could sense that in the way his head had tilted just slightly in her direction and in the way his muscles coiled briefly before relaxing again and she didn’t expect any surprise in his eyes when he looked at her.

There was none when their gazes met, but she could feel the spirit in her instantly rising to meet his, hovering just out of reach. Hers watched his, knowing it could do so now that there were no distractions present, no danger to be watching for. It could focus its attention on what it wanted to and it did.

The gray-eyed stranger’s spirit was powerful, masculine and clearly a predator. It was volatile and she could feel great hostility from it, a desire to protect and hunt and kill that didn’t frighten her in the least. She was used to such things, especially from males. They were good things. What she was not used to was the subtle warmth, a calm that lay beneath the storm of strength.

Beneath the violence and instinct was a gentleness and curiosity and loving nature that she found herself drawn to just as much as she was drawn to the opposite aspects.

She knew his spirit was drawn to her own, too. She could not see why, but it was, reaching for hers, but like herself, hesitating…and then it backed away entirely, retreating into the body and mind it dwelled in. She watched as the stranger’s gray eyes went dimmer, veiled again and she tilted her head in confusion, but drew in her own spirit, too, taking her cue from him.

He was the alpha, after all. If she was going to become part of his pack then she’d have to show she could obey and learn. If she was going to be his mate, she’d have to learn how to run the pack as well. So she would yield to him, but no one else.

With that settled in her mind, she felt much better and merely waited for the stranger’s next move, feeling no nervousness or fear. His spirit was drawn to her own. He would not hurt her. It would be against his instincts.

She watched as he moved, turning toward her and she took a few steps forward before stopping again, just out of touching distance. Her hair whipped around her face and she watched him through it, saw him give an amused expression. His mouth made noises then that she didn’t understand, but they were soft and seemed friendly.

She found herself truly wishing she knew what he was speaking. She felt it might be something she would have liked to hear.

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He’d come out here for the stars. No, they were not always visible, but he’d never been able to sleep for long periods of time without the sky being visible and never in caves where it felt like the rocks were going to crush him under their weight.

He’d come out here expecting to be alone but for the chilling wind. Never had he thought that the wild girl would find him in this place, much less that she’d join him or that Danil would have let her past him. But then again, maybe the redhead knew something of what Caln felt, understood it somehow.

Danil’s power was with acid, but he showed an aptitude for understanding people and their emotions that made some wonder whether he didn’t have some type of minor empathy gift as well. Whatever the reason, intuition or power, the redhead had let the wild young woman join him and Caln knew he’d thank the man later for that.

He’d hoped for something like this. It was different, being able to observe the girl without his tribe members near. The Enasien trusted each other and everyone understood one another to some degree, but they were a protective lot. Caln knew they wouldn’t be helpful with this part of his life right now, especially not when the amber-eyed girl only seemed to want to interact with him.

And it seemed, in a way, that was what they were doing now. He’d felt something powerful from her only moments before as they stared at each other, but not understanding what it was, he’d reigned his own power back as it rose to meet hers. She’d seemed confused, by the action, but then accepting and now she’d moved just a little closer, looking at him through her tangled red-brown hair.

It struck Caln as amusing and he spoke quietly. “All right, little hawk, how do I talk to you, hmm?”

The War-Leader watched the girl tilt her head as if to catch his words better and he smiled a little. She truly did look like a bird, perched at a safe distance from him, her amber eyes piercing and her head tilted. Her red-brown hair reminded him of a red-tailed hawk, a fierce predator, but small. A curious bird, too, just like this wildling.

Caln watched her for long moment before deciding to just try something simple. It couldn’t hurt, right?

He placed his hand on his chest and spoke as clearly and slowly as he thought necessary. “Caln.” The girl frowned, her eyes narrowing and he did it again, thumping his chest slightly. “Caln.”

He watched her amber eyes, the struggle for understanding there and suddenly it seemed to come as their shade brightened and she raised her brows, looking at him with speculation. She opened her mouth slowly and surprised Caln but pointing at him in a hesitant way.

“Cah..Cah…een…”

The dark blond grinned and shook his head, speaking clearly again. “CaaaLn.”

“Cah..ee..” The wild girl growled in an obviously frustrated way and then huffed out, blowing her hair up - though, it was a futile action as the wind blew it right back where it had been - before she took a deep breath and started to try again, looking into his eyes this time, like that might help.

“Cah..rn. Cahrn.”

Caln watched her shoulders slump. It was clear that she knew she’d gotten it wrong and the dark blond smiled and only tilted his head, catching her eyes again as she’d proceeded to glare at the stone. “I supposed “l’s” are not in your vocabulary, are they?”

He didn’t expect an answer, but his voice did make her look up again and he tapped his chest with his finger. “Caln.” At her glare he smiled again and spoke quietly, his dark blond hair brushing his eyes as the wind changed direction.  “Cahrn.”

The girl pulled her head back in a surprised way, but it also seemed she understood what he was saying and Caln saw her amber eyes lighten again in a pleased way. The look instantly turned into warning, though, when he reached out slowly and pointed at her. Caln did nothing more than that, knowing a true threat when he saw it. She was not just flaring her wings like a helpless bird would to look bigger and scarier. No, she meant her threat and could back it up and Caln had no desire to aggravate her like that.

She stared at his finger for a long moment, unsure and he brought his hand back to his chest. “Cahrn.” He pointed at her again, raising a brow and once more understanding seemed to light up in her eyes and then what seemed like judgment as she looked him over.

The War-Leader suddenly felt like he was a young teenager in Evaluation all over again and the thought made him smile a little. The wild girl tilted her head at him then, seemingly confused with the expressions of smiles, but it also seemed to make her relax a little as she might have sensed they were friendly looks.

She raised her hand slowly and then set it on her chest before making a series of sounds that had Caln blinking, trying to absorb them properly.

“Mrrahrrraehkeeray.”

It was a string of chirps and warbles with a hint of a growl thrown in and Caln knew it was his turn to be frustrated and make a bit of a fool out of himself trying to pronounce what had to be her name, her ‘call’. He took a breath and jumped in, never one to hesitate.

“Mrahraykee?”

A warble answered his effort and Caln knew he was being laughed at. He gave the girl an affronted look, but she didn’t back down in the least, watching him with a patient, waiting expression and yet amusement as well. She clearly wanted him to try again and Caln found he wanted to if it meant she might laugh once more in her strange way.

“Mrahrakee?”

The girl shook her head and Caln realized instantly that she’d picked up on a human-like cue for ‘negative, no’ by just watching him do the same thing minutes before. It was an encouraging sign and it just made him more determined to get her name right, to show that he could learn from her as well. And what Caln put his mind to, he accomplished.

It helped that the wild girl was pointing to her chest again. “Mrrahrrraehkeeeay.”

“Mrahrakay.”

Amber eyes were laughing at him once more, but an idea was forming in Caln’s mind and he spoke again, more confidently. “Mrahrakay. Mrara’kay.”

He had captured her attention now and Caln looked at the girl with a purposeful expression, pointing at himself. “Cahrn.” He then pointed at her. “Mrara’kay.”

The wild girl watched him for a long moment before she touched her chest in a slightly questioning way. “Mrara’kay.” She looked at him, waiting for a response and Caln nodded, assuring her she’d gotten it right. The girl nodded back slowly, accepting.

Mrara’kay. That would be her name, a dragon name taken and tweaked into a humanized one. And it looked like he’d acquired a new name as well, a dragonized one. Cahrn.

All in all, Caln thought it tremendous progress between them.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Anrar’s knees hit the stone with a harsh impact that he knew would bruise his skin and would leave him sore for days. It didn’t really matter all that much to him right now, though, as his hands hit the ground too and he started to cough blood. His throat was raw, torn and blood pored from his nose even as it came from his mouth, a scarlet torrent that he couldn’t give much concerned attention to as the pain in his head threatened to make him pass out.

He managed to stop coughing, every motion making the ‘knife’ stab through his temples all the sharper, and rolled to his side. He held his head and screamed as another wave of agony swept through is mind, crying as it passed and his skull was left to throb with a lesser, but no less unbearable pain.

He groaned, curling in on himself because there was no one to see him, no one to judge….no one to care. He was alone but for the demon voices that shrieked in his head, the voices that wouldn’t leave him alone. He’d held them back for years, months, days, without a great deal of accidents where they got loose, but it felt like every day this month they’d gotten stronger and his shields against them became more and more useless.

Today they’d descended on him with a vengeance and the youth had been near-helpless to stop them. His struggles to contain the words and images he didn’t want to hear had only resulted in a splitting pain that rippled through his skull and down his spine with every voice that now even whispered through his mind. The agony it caused put migraines to shame.

His throat was torn from screaming for nearly three hours on and off, and Anrar coughed again, his latest cry producing more blood for him to spit out. The blood from his nose had started to slow down, though, and he risked wiping at it slowly with the back of his hand. Even that motion sent fire shooting down his back, though, and he stilled again, focusing on breathing past the pain.

It would pass. It always passed. It would pass. It always passed. It was like a chant in his head for the next hour as he lay curled on the stone of the cave floor, having nowhere to be and no one to count on. He’d stopped fighting his gift now that it had started to slow and give up and the pain ebbed away even more slowly, much too slowly for his tastes, until it was nothing more than a really bad headache. That kind of pain was something that would have had most people wanting a dark room, quiet and maybe even a healer for some herbs, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. His threshold for pain was MUCH different than most peoples’.

Anrar rolled up from the floor slowly, finally feeling the ache in his knees as he worked himself up to his feet. He swayed as he tried to rise fully and fell to one knee again, cursing at the pain it caused in both his leg and the back of his head as the jolt reverberated up his spine.

The youth took in a shuddering breath before he forced himself up again and this time when the world swayed, he stayed up until it had stopped and he could move forward.

Most people might have gone to their bed or to the nearest source of water to clean up, but not Anrar. He headed to the entrance of his cave and out into the wind, letting it whip his black - and now sticky with blood - hair around, letting it dry the tears on his cheeks and letting it drive the away the voices in his head for just a few precious minutes. He listened to it with his eyes closed, hearing the gales howl over the yellow rocks of the Nayhota Mountains around him and over the red-brown plain of Iius like a pack of ravenous wolves.

He opened his white eyes after a time and looked out on the land. Every time he did this, he knew something new about it, about the people living in it whether that information had come to him willingly or not. And now, like times before, he studied every direction, sorting the information he’d been recently given - just a small fraction of what was available to him - into their proper categories so he could find them more easily later.

Anrar waited until the information had settled before he turned around and slowly walked back into the cave. He skipped the wash he knew he needed and instead collapsed into his bed, feeling the exhaustion come to claim him like a welcomed friend.

His world went dark.

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The youth woke a few hours later to the feeling of something nudging his side and he frowned in his drowsy state, blinking fully awake and turning over to look up at the face that was above his own. Anrar didn’t even feel a tinge of surprise as he groaned and pushed the light tan tiger-striped dragon’s head away from him, undaunted by the sudden appearance of the creature. She’d probably sensed the screams he‘d voiced earlier, no matter how far away she was while hunting. The dragon had a knack for knowing when he was in trouble despite any logical way for her to know such things.

“G’way, Jasa.” he mumbled, rolling over once more and burying his head back in his arms. Wow, speaking hurt his throat…

The dragon growled at him then, pulling on his clothes until Anrar heard a rip and his head shot up. “Hey!” Yep, there went the throbbing fire in his neck again. Ugh.

Jasa growled back at him again, her wings flaring away from her body slightly, a piece of his Tanisk-skin clothing in her teeth and Anrar glared back into the creature’s blue eyes, making himself speak in a hoarse way despite the feeling of his throat shredding with every word. “No. I’m not playing chase.”

 The dragon whined then and the youth sighed, putting his head back on his arm, looking at the creature with a tired expression. “No.” There was a difference in his voice now, a worn-out and raspy quality from speaking even this much that the dragon caught on to immediately and she came back with her head slightly down, giving him back the article of clothing in a way that could only be seen as apologetic. The youth took it from her with patience that would have surprised anyone watching and pet her nose as his body told him that it hated him.

That was fine. He hated it just as much.

Jasa whined again, her nose moving close to him as she smelled the blood that covered his face, hair and the front of his shirt. Anrar sighed as she warbled in a way he knew indicated concern and he sat up, pushing his body to do as he wanted despite its protests. “It’s all right. I’ll wash.”

He scratched the tiger-striped scales of the dragon’s head again before getting out of the bed and he felt Jasa’s eyes follow him as he went to a nook in the wall and took out a water skin. He used some of the precious water he had to wet the piece clothing the dragon had ripped and used it to sponge the blood off his face, neck and hands. He couldn’t do much with his long black hair and so he just ran a toothed comb through it to get as much of the dried blood out as he could and tied it back with a rawhide string.

Anrar changed his clothes last, uncaring that the dragon still watched him. He knew she was intelligent, but she was still just an animal and wouldn’t understand what she was seeing anyway. He glanced with little concern at the bruises on his legs as he pulled his pants up. Yep, that would hurt even more later. Oh well.

The youth silently declared that he was done after he’d buckled his belt by spreading his arms a bit in a gesture that was familiar to both he and the dragon. Jasa chirped happily at that point, springing toward him and Anrar didn’t move as she stopped just short of hitting his body, her wings flaring as she halted. Jasa’s long neck wrapped around his waist then so that her large body was at his left side, but her face was near his stomach on his right side, her neck creating a back-brace of sorts and Anrar finally let a smile curl his lips as he scratched her head.

“Yeah, I’m all right. Just another attack. Wasn’t as bad as the one three months ago, so don’t worry about it.”

He spoke to the creature like she could understand every word he said, but Anrar was not foolish enough to believe that she really could. The dragon warbled up at him in a comforting way, sensing his sadness, but she could not have known WHY he was disheartened.

Still, animal or not, she was another living, breathing being and much as Anrar might curse at her or throw things when she seemed determined to get her way and annoy him, he was glad for her presence. It had kept him sane.

Well, saner than he could have been.

Okay, fine, he was completely crazy and happened to have a dragon that would listen to his ramblings.

Whatever.

The youth growled at the thought, regretting it a moment later as his throat protested and he shook his head before he started toward the cave opening again. Jasa followed faithfully, much bigger than he was, but completely loyal to the human who’d raised her. They stepped out into the wind again and this time Anrar looked immediately south. That’s where the dreams were coming from. The domed-City, Ruuk, to be specific.

“We’ll be going on a journey soon, Jasa.”

His hand was on her side now and he could feel each inhale and exhale from the dragon under the rough, warm hide of her tan tiger-striped scales. It was a comforting rhythm and the beat of her large heart was a soothing thing for his mind to focus on. Much more-so than his own turbulent thoughts.

“We need to go to Ruuk. There’s a girl there.” White eyes glanced into blue ones - gold eyes that held no expression but curiosity for his voice alone, something Anrar chose to ignore, seeing what he wanted to just because he could and no one would argue with him. “Don’t get any ideas. It’s not like that. Remember the Seven I told you about? She’s one of them, just like me. The others are already meeting up, but I have to get her out of the City first. It‘s necessary.”

Anrar rubbed his hand over his face, tired beyond belief but knowing it didn‘t matter. It never mattered what he felt or wanted. What mattered was what he could do. That‘s the way it had always been and he was used to it even as he was incredibly bitter about it. “Personally, I think it’s a huge pain in the arse and I bet you anything SHE’S a big pain in the arse, too, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

Jasa chirped at him, sensing his agitation and the dragon bumped her head against his side, hitting a bruised rib and making the youth hiss, but he looked down at her head with a wry smile. “Think it’ll be worth it, dealing with all of them?”

Blue eyes looked steadily back at him and Anrar snorted, looking away. “I think it’s going to be hell. We’ve got a Prince who’s never been away from home and a City-dweller who’s never had any freedom and has no clue what’s out here. Then there’s a wild girl who doesn’t speak and doesn’t have a clue about the human world. The only reason she is interested in her dreams of me is because she can see YOU with me.”

The youth had started counting on his fingers by this point, his voice gaining more and more sarcasm in it. “Let’s see, we also have a boy who’s never stood up to anyone in his life, never even touched a blade and is scared of his own shadow. Joining him is the Zealot who’d rather play a prank than take anything seriously and who has a problem following directions. Opposite and yet mirroring her is a man who takes everything too seriously and doesn’t like authority, either, especially when there is something to fight.”

The youth sighed, looking out to the plains again. His voice had grown quiet, bitter. “And then there’s the man who sees all this and does nothing because he’s scared of rejection, scared of his own power.” Anrar hung his head, knowing it was the last bit that bothered him so much.

He knew it was time for him to leave this cave, to enter the world again, for ill or good. He was just…scared to. His gift wasn’t going to give him much of a choice anymore, though. He knew that with certainty, especially after today. It didn’t care how he felt about this. It didn’t care that he was viewed with displeasure by even those who were supposed to be his ‘own kind’. His power didn’t care in the least. All it cared about was making him, its unwilling vessel, see - and therefore do - what was needed, what was demanded, Anrar’s feelings be damned.

Anrar sighed again at the unpleasant thought and leaned against Jasa’s side, never taking his white eyes off the south now. He didn‘t know if he could, not with how strongly he was being drawn there. Out there, a girl needed rescuing. She just didn’t realize it yet…and unfortunately, he had to do it.

The youth grumbled under his breath as he turned away from the land and started back into his cave, limping the whole way with Jasa following behind with a happy chirp, oblivious to Anrar’s inner conflict.

They’d leave soon.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I simply do not understand why you feel you must leave now.”

Nissi told himself shouting at his father wouldn’t help anything, but oh, how he wanted to! He didn’t feel like the older man was LISTENING to him and they’d been going at this conversation for a good half hour now! It seemed like there was no progress being made between them, though.

The Prince closed his eyes and took a deep breath, glad his back was to his father. They were in the King’s study, a room built back into the mountain like the fortress itself was. The walls were stone and there were no windows. The colored fur-skins of red and brown were meant to warm the place, make the room seem less harsh, but nothing could distract Nissi from the fact that he was underground. It took nearly every ounce of will he had - well, any will not used on his father anyway - to keep himself from fleeing the room. He felt like he was slowly suffocating down here under the weight of the stone around him, with no access to the sky or the elements.

“Son, you are needed here.”

Nissi could hear that his father had drawn closer to him and the Prince turned toward the older man, shaking his head in instant denial that brought a deep frown to the King’s face. “No. I’m not needed here. There is nothing I can do here anymore. I can’t bring our people water anymore and I can’t figure out what is going on in Jagason if I stay here. I can’t LEARN anything more than I already have if I stay here. I can’t learn how to be a leader here.”

Tilno’san‘s eyes were hard, unyielding, but inside he was only very confused and just a little irritated at his offspring. He didn‘t understand what his son was saying or why he was saying it. This conversation had come out of nowhere for him. “You are a Prince, Nissi. You are already a leader.”

“But I don’t feel like one. I feel like a child placed in a man’s game. I don’t know what I am doing! I don’t know how to help anymore. I need to learn more than this kingdom can teach me, father!”

Why couldn’t the man SEE that? Nissi functioned, he did what was expected of him, he followed the rules and he knew what his people needed, but he didn’t feel like he could lead them. He didn’t feel like he knew enough to keep them alive as the world changed around them. He needed to know what was happening and how to help his people adapt to it, but he couldn’t do that here. And selfishly, part of him wanted to simply LIVE a little before he was tied down, permanently, in one place for the rest of his life.

Pale green eyes met green ones steadily. Nissi knew his father didn’t understand this. He knew the older man didn’t approve, but for the first time in his life, the Prince was resolved to do something that he thought was right regardless of what the King thought about it. He was determined to leave because he knew it was what he needed to do.

“Father, I don’t ask you to understand. I only ask that you trust me. I WILL come back and hopefully, I will come back wiser and ready to fulfill the position you will be giving me. I just don’t feel ready or worthy of it yet.”

Tilno’san regarded his son for a few long, uncomfortable minutes of silence. It was a father’s gaze that took in the younger man’s determined, pale green eyes and the stubborn set of his chin. It was a father’s eyes that saw the young boy the Prince used to be and how his face was much more like his mother’s than Tilno’san’s own. It was the eyes of a father that saw his son and mourned the loss he knew was coming.

It was a King, however, who spoke to Nissi with calm indifference. “You do not have my blessing in this, son.”

Nissi barely refrained from flinching like he’d been struck. He’d suspected this was coming, but there had been some small part of him that had hoped his father might understand, might treat him like a son instead of a prince, might…well, it really didn’t matter now.

The Prince hid the hurt expertly and gave a curt nod. “I did not expect it. All I ask is that you respect my decision and not hinder me.” Nissi spoke from an aching heart and Tilno’san heard the words with a mourning one. Neither male was ready to admit such a thing, though.

The King dipped his head and Nissi knew there was nothing more to say between them. Nothing that could change either of their minds and nothing that could erase what they’d said, well-intentioned or not. The Prince bowed before turning to leave. He got to the door, stride purposeful, back straight and proud before he heard his father’s voice, quieter than he could remember it being in a long time.

“Stay safe, Nissi.”

Nissi’s posture could not help but relax just a little at hearing his True Name fall from his fathers lips - something that man rarely called him. His shoulders lost most of their tension and his muscles uncoiled as he looked over his shoulder and through some of his black hair at his father. He gave the man a slight half-smile like he used to do when he was younger.

“I will, father.”

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Tenulo was the first twin he saw as he came into the stables and Nissi sighed to himself even as he gave the sixteen year old a ‘look’. He’d come here to ready his horse, but had hoped to just unwind a little before he actually left. The smells of the stable, of leather and precious hay-grass, cleaning oil, horses, and even manure were comforting ones. He’d often hidden in the stables from tormentors when he was younger and it had been his favorite place to visit with his mother before she died.

Most of the place was built from baked clay and stone, but it was warm and welcoming in a way that the fortress never had been to Nissi. Perhaps it was the horses, so welcoming themselves or maybe it was the fact that the stable had two openings on either end, always open in the summer and easy to exit in the winter. Maybe it was the constant breeze that came through the place that helped him relax despite the amount of stone.

Whatever the reason it was lost now with the appearance of Tenulo - Risten couldn’t be far behind - and Nissi knew it.

“No.”

Nissi said it as firmly as he could with just a hint of bite in the simple word as he walked forward, but it didn’t faze the brown-haired male in the least as he grinned. “No, what? I havin’t even asked yet!” The teen’s voice was indignant, but the Prince only shoved Tenulo’s shoulder as he passed him, unimpressed.

“Yes, and it’s going to STAY that way. You’re not coming!”

“Och, of course we be comin’, Princeling!” Risten announced as she seemed to magically appear right on cue. Her red hair was awry with bits of hay-grass stuck in it. She’d obviously come from one of the stalls, hopping over the wall to join her twin. She now stood by her brother, leaning back against the half-wall she’d just jumped as she crossed her arms, looking every bit as stubborn as Nissi could remember her being as a child.

Well, the twin never really had lost that ‘child’ quality anyway…

“No, you are not.”

The Prince spoke sternly to the two, but his attention was on the horse bumping its head against his chest. Pale green eyes looked into liquid brown ones and Nissi smiled, speaking softly to the appaloosa mare in a crooning way as he checked her legs and hooves, and then her mouth, back, neck and chest. Satisfied that she’d been well-taken care of and was as hale as the last time he’d ridden her, the Prince set about getting her tack.

From the corner of his eye he saw the twins doing the same thing to their own mounts and couldn’t help the smile that twitched at his lips. “You don’t even know where I am going.”

“Does it be matterin’?”

Tenulo looked up from examining, Yinov’s - his buckskin stallion - back hoof, his red hair dripping over his gray eyes as his gaze met his Prince’s. “We be stickin’ with ya when yeh be a scrawneh Princeling runnin’ from bullehs and we’ll be stickin’ with ya now that yeh be a grown Princeling runnin’ TO the bullehs.”

“I am NOT running to bullies!” Nissi’s voice was high enough and sharp enough that it caused his mare to roll her eyes at him a little and side-step away from her master, not at all sure she liked his tone. The Prince scowled at the twins’ snickers as he worked on placating the equine.

“Then what ARE yeh doin’?”

The question came from Risten and Nissi heard the sincerity and worry in the question and when he looked back over at his two closest friends they were standing by their respective horses, looking at him with questioning eyes, looking their age for once.

Nissi sighed as he turned back to the saddle strap he‘d been tightening.. Damn. He had planned to just leave. Perhaps it was the cowardly way to do things, but he hadn’t cared. He‘d written each twin a note to be delivered to them in two days, enough time for him to get away, but he should have known they‘d be too smart for that. They truly were like wolves with their uncanny ability to know where he was at all times. He might as well explain to them what was going on…and hope he could convince them to stay.

Yeah, he really didn‘t have that much hope for THAT particular idea, but hey, he could try.

“The War-Leader of the Enasi Tribe invited me to join them.”

Nissi didn’t think he’d ever seen the twins’ jaws drop quite like that before and the silence after his statement was rather amusing as he watched them try to gather their wits.

“Wh…WHAT?! Why-?….are yeh goin’ tah-?” Risten spluttered her words first, her gray eyes wide and Tenulo picked up where his sister had left off, his own eyes just as wide and then narrowing just as quickly.

“Are yeh goin’ tah join them? Is that why ya be leavin’?”

Nissi took a deep breath and now finished with his horse, faced his friends fully. “Yes, I am leaving to join them, but that’s not the ONLY reason I am leaving and I am not leaving forever. I promised my father I would come back and I WANT to, but…I need to find out what is going on first.”

Tenulo and Risten’s brows went up to their hairline and both their faces expressed identical puzzlement that would have been comical had their gray eyes not been so serious. “Goin’ on?”

Nissi wasn’t even sure which twin spoke, but it didn’t really matter. They almost seemed like one person when they did things like that and because of their telepathy between each other, Nissi was sure they shared many of the same thoughts anyway. What one twin asked, the other would most-likely be thinking as well.

The Prince pushed his shaggy black hair back, breathing out slowly. Should he tell them? Tell them everything? Pale green eyes looked back up into gray ones and Nissi found himself wanting to tell them. Tenulo and Risten had always been his confidantes. It didn’t matter that they seemed like playful children most of the time. They knew how to keep secrets and they knew what loyalty was.

Yes, he could tell them…but not yet.

“Come on.”

Nissi turned back to his mare and swung up onto her back in one fluid move. His vision swam slightly before steadying again and the Prince was grateful that the nausea didn’t come with the dizziness this time.

“We be comin’ with yeh?”

The twins’ were already mounting their horses, but the question came from Tenulo anyway, surprised. Nissi only nodded, though, checking his pack once more to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. His search prompted the twins to do the same thing and the Prince nearly smiled at the fact that they’d packed already, fully prepared to out-stubborn him and follow along.

He loved them for it.

“Yeah, you’re coming and I will tell you why I am leaving as soon as we get far enough away from this place and you can’t go running back because you think I am insane.”

“Ah, this is gonna be good!” Risten teased, glancing at her brother with a wink and Nissi did smile then as he urged his horse out of the stables and the twins followed. The three of them set their horses into a gallop as they left the city, the guards opening the gate with a respect Nissi could feel even as he passed them.

He sighed as his mare, Stasa, started to climb the mountain path away from the kingdom before he breathed in deeply of the wind that whipped his black hair back and ripped at his clothing. He was leaving. For the first time in his life, he was leaving this valley.

Suddenly the Prince was extremely glad for the two friends at his back and he felt a little more confident of his decision. They believed in him enough to follow him without even knowing where he was headed or what his plan was. That had to count for something, right, that he could inspire that kind of loyalty?

Nissi liked to think it meant something and he wanted to believe that the War-Leader had truly meant his offer. Nissi would meet the Enasien at the Seli Pass. They would have to take it to leave the Haaprin Mountains and he could only pray that Caln would actually let him join their tribe and that perhaps Tenulo and Risten would be offered a place as well. The Prince didn’t think the twins would leave even if they WEREN’T invited. They’d simply follow him anyway.

It was a comforting thought to know he wouldn’t be alone either way.

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Chapter Five

Zefir’enel woke with a cry, her bed soaked with sweat and tears on her face, salty in her mouth. Her nose was clogged and her heart racing like she’d run a race. The symptoms of her body were nothing compared to the whirlwind of her mind, though.

The young woman scrambled out of her bed, uncaring of the noise she’d make or who she woke as she grabbed the first pair of pants that presented themselves on her clothes-strewn floor and then a bra and a red tank-top. She threw took off her sleep clothes and put what she’d grabbed on before snatching her pocket-knife out of her dresser drawer and heading toward the door and down the hall.

She’d just flown down the stairs and was heading toward the front door when her sister’s haughty voice stopped her. “And just where do you think you’re going?

Zefir’enel’s heart pounded but it wasn’t in fear for being caught. It was with urgency and a terror that made her body shake and her mind race. “Out.” She snapped the reply to her younger sister with impatience as she started to walk toward the door once more.

She could hear the glare in Firsa’leenya’s voice. “You’re not allowed outside after nine.” Zefir’enel ignored her sibling as she punched in the key-code she’d learned on the door long ago. It was supposed to only be used in an emergency, like in the case of a fire, but Zefir’enel had used it more often than that and frequently.

As she pushed the code in now, she heard Firsa’leenya come closer and then her sister’s voice was rising in a shrill way, like their mother’s did. “What are you doing?! Stop it! I’ll tell mom and dad!”

Zefir’enel looked at her fifteen year old sister then and her mind absently compared them like it was wont to. They both had the same violet eyes, but Firsa’leenya’s were a lighter shade, breathtakingly beautiful like the clear sky above them. Zefir’enel knew her own were dark and much too shadowed, dull. Her sister’s hair was a rich gold and shimmered whichever way she turned, curled at the ends and tweaked to perfection. It never seemed to be out of place. Zefir’enel’s hair was white and much too long according to her mother. It never did as it was told, waving and tweaking when it should curl. It was a mess of broken ends and tangled and most-often it was put up in a braid. Firsa’leenya was thin, her skin smooth and glowing with a tan, perfect whereas Zefir‘enel‘s body was curvier and her skin was covered in nicks and scars from her active life. Her sister was perfect and everything Zefir’enel was not.

But in this moment, Zefir’enel didn’t see that like she had before. She saw nothing but a spoiled little girl where her younger sister stood and in that moment Zefir’enel could not have been more disgusted with the majority of her family.

She smirked and yanked the door open. “Go ahead.”

She didn’t wait to see what Firsa’leenya would do as she disappeared out the door and started to run down the dimly-lit streets. The city was silent, the signs turned off and only the dull yellow streetlights giving enough of a glow to see. The nights in Ruuk were silent, haunting and the only life to be seen was the movement of the police, both human and robotic, as they patrolled the streets, keeping the curfew in affect.

Zefir’enel was careful to avoid them, knowing their routines by now and how to move through the streets unseen. Her breath came in frantic gasps though as she darted through the City, working toward her destination. She couldn’t be too late. She couldn’t! The words kept repeating in her mind like a chant as she tried to keep from crying again, focusing solely on her task.

The young woman had never had such a terrifying vision and if it killed her, she would not let it come to pass!

She finally came to the place she sought, the Fire Station, and Zefir’enel burst into the building, bypassing the person at the desk entirely as she ran into the back rooms, violet eyes searching frantically for the one face she needed to see.

Men looked up at her as she came into a lounge room, a place for the Fire Fighters to relax between jobs, but Zefir’enel didn’t see the one person she wanted and she turned to leave, to keep searching. One of the men was quick enough to recognize her, though, and grabbed her arm.

“Zefir’enel!? What are you doing here? What’s wrong?”

Wide violet eyes, scared and near-panicked almost didn’t recognize the face they looked into and then the name came to Zefir’enel and she grabbed the wrist of the hand that held her arm. “Michal’nos, where is my brother?!”

The dark-haired man blinked in surprise and searched her face before he answered, seeing her urgency, feeling the pulse that pounded under his hand. The young woman was truly scared about something. “He’s getting ready to leave. We had a call.”

Zefir’enel made something between a whimper and a gasp before she wrenched out of Michal’nos’ hold and darted away, down the halls and toward where she knew the transporters were located. Her blood roared in her ears and every step felt like a drumbeat in her skull. Her feet hit the ground much too slowly and it felt like the entire world seemed to slow as she rounded the corner and saw her brother readying to step on to the platform that would send him to his next fire.

Zefir’enel knew it would be to his death this time.

“Bor’sanin!!” She screamed his name as he stepped forward and her brother whirled around, startled and then shocked as he saw her. He caught her in his arms as she collided with him, holding on tightly and starting sob, fear and relief warring in her mind so that she could hardly breathe, could hardly think at all.

It only occurred to Zefir’enel after few minutes that she was scaring her brother badly and he was trying to get her to talk to him, to tell him what was wrong. Was it mother? Father? Their sister? Had someone died? Had there been an accident? What was wrong?!

The young woman could only shake her head, but though her body shook, she pulled back from her brother and tried to gain some control, wiping her eyes and her nose with the back of her hand. She knew she looked terrible, wearing dirty clothes, her body sweaty and her hair in disarray from bed. She didn’t wear any shoes, something that hadn’t mattered with the smooth streets, but must have made an odd sight. Her eyes were puffy and she couldn’t stop shaking.

It was no wonder Bor’sanin was looking at her with so much worry right now and Zefir’enel tried to offer him a watery smile, trying to get words past her somehow raw throat. Talking felt like a task completely beyond her. Bor’sanin seemed to see that, too and he looked over her head at the men who’d followed her from the lounge. One of the other Fire Fighters nodded and started to get ready, taking his place and Bor’sanin gave the man a grateful nod as he took his sister around the shoulders and led her out of the transport room and into an empty one down the hall.

It was a medical room for those who could not make it to the hospital and for minor injuries sustained in the job. Bor’sanin made Zefir’enel sit on the exam table and then he took her shoulders gently, looking at her with a stern, but worried expression.

“Take deep breaths and calm down. Deep breaths.”

The young woman nodded and started to do as she was told and soon her breathing had evened out and she’d stopped shaking so badly. As her heart rate began to slow, the words started to come back to her, but she now feared saying them, explaining. Unfortunately, her brother wanted answers, she could see it in his face as he sat on the stool and wheeled it over so that he was in front of her, raising a brow.

“All right, what’s going on?”

“I..I had to see you.” Zefir’enel whispered, not thinking she could get her voice any higher and Bor’sanin frowned, unsatisfied and for good reason. “Zefir’enel, it is one in the morning, you are dressed in the same shirt you wore earlier today, you look like you just rolled out of bed and I would have thought someone was dying from the way you burst in here. What. Is. Going. On?”

He made sure to enunciate every word and Zefir’enel flinched at every single one, knowing she was not going to get out of this. She wasn’t going to be able to lie or haw and hem. She needed to tell him. She needed to tell SOMEONE. But the words were so hard to say after so long of silence and she started to fidget with her fingers, tears slipping down her cheeks. She was scared beyond reason. She could be killed for what she was about to tell her brother.

She lifted her violet eyes to his brown ones, cherishing the love she saw there, the worry and fondness if also confusion. She wanted to keep those looks close to her heart. She might not seem them again after tonight.

“I had…a dream that you…died. In a fire. The b-building was the Animal Museum and one of the exhibits fell on you. You couldn’t get away in time.” Her voice shook as she relayed the dream, finding that she could remember every detail, feel the heat of the flames and hear the cracking and breaking as the exhibit fell. She could smell the smoke and hear the scared cry from her brother, his last utterance echoing in her ears so that she wanted to shake them away and just rock while she cried for what could have been.

She’d changed it. She’d changed it, but it could have been and it was something horrible to think about it. And now it was made worse because her brother was looking at her in a strange way. He didn’t say anything at first, standing and pulling her into his arms, hugging her tightly. She returned the gesture at first, but then he spoke.

“It was just a dream, Moon. I am sorry it scared you so much, but it was just a dream.”

Zefir’enel pushed away from him then, suddenly angry. “No. No, do you think I would freak out over a mere dream!? Do you think me so hysterical!? No! This was not JUST a dream!”

Bor’sanin gave her a look and shook his head. “It had to have been, Zefir’enel. It was just a dream.”

“It was a vision!” she spat back, standing from the table and the young woman watched her brother’s face morph from confusion to fear and then to warning. He came close to her so they were nearly nose to nose…well, she had to look up at him, but close enough.

“You should not speak about such things. Not even as a joke, Zefir’enel!” His words were hissed, a worried brother for a sister, but the young woman looked at him with determination. “It is not a joke.”

“Yes, it is! I was just a dream, sister!” Bor’sanin gripped her shoulders, shaking her slightly as if he could shake some sense into her. He was scared, Zefir’enel could see it in his eyes, in the way he held her so tightly, in the way he kept glancing around and toward the door. And suddenly her own fear was gone.

“Is this a dream then?” Zefir’enel stepped back from her brother and unzipped her pants just enough to loosen them as her brother watched her with a disturbed expression, looking like he wanted to ask what the hell she was doing. He never got the words out of his mouth as the young woman let her tail slip up from her leg and then her pants, and it uncurled like a snake, the tip twitching in the air as Zefir’enel raised her brow.

“If I’m dreaming then so are you.”

Bor’sanin’s mouth had dropped open slightly as he looked at his sister, his eyes saying he was finally seeing her for the first time and then his brown orbs were steadying, no longer surprised, but accepting and the words that next came from his mouth startled Zefir’enel.

“I believe you. Now hide it again before someone walks in.”

The young woman narrowed her eyes but did as she was told and Bor’sanin watched the process before he shook his head, running his hand through his hair as he started to pace and Zefir’enel hoisted herself back on the exam table, waiting.

“You’re not going to turn me in?”

Her brother snorted in a short laugh. “I’d have to turn myself in if I did that.”

“What?”

Bor’sanin grinned then and Zefir’enel watched with amazement as he held out his hand and fire started to flicker along his arm. She felt a shiver go through her body, an excited feeling as she looked up into his brown eyes with her own wide ones, amazed like she was a young child again. “You too?” She barely breathed the words, but her sibling nodded, the fire leaving.

“There are a few of us hiding securely. We look after one another and we keep each other safe. I am sorry, Moon. If I had known you were one, I would have come for you sooner.”

“One? One what?”

“A mutant. There are many of us cropping up, so many that the Government is finding it hard to come up with excuses for ‘missing people’ these days.” Bor’sanin said the words in disgust and he had stopped pacing at this point, leaning back against a wall with his arms crossed, appearing perfectly in control of the situation. It confused Zefir’enel and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“All right, I don’t understand you. You were all panicked when you DIDN’T believe me about what I said I saw about you and now that you DO believe me, everything is fine?”

Her brother sighed. “When I thought you were just talking it scared me because you could have been in danger for saying such things and without an actual power to back up your claims, those with gifts would not have helped you.”

“And now they will?”

“Yes.”

Zefir’enel looked down, frowning at the white linoleum as she tried to make sense of what was going on. Everything seemed to be moving too fast and she didn’t understand the twists her life seemed to be about to take. “What if I don’t want help? I’ve made it two years without any help.” she said with a proud tilt of her chin and Bor’sanin smiled.

“And that is admirable, but little sister, you’ve never admitted out loud what you were either, have you?.”

The young woman crossed her arms. “What does that have to do with anything. No one can hear us now. It‘s still a secret!”

Now her brother gained a serious look, one that actually scared Zefir’enel a little as he pushed away from the wall and walked forward. “That’s not true. There is no privacy, Moon. There hasn’t been any for us since birth.” He was before her now and he reached for her head, a questioning look on his face when she pulled back a little. They looked at each other for a long moment before Zefir’enel finally let him tilt her face to the side and his fingers reached behind her ear, feeling for something. She knew instantly when he’d found it because she felt it too quite suddenly.

Bor’sanin kept his finger on the bump under her skin and looked at her until she reached up to feel it too. “That is a chip. It is inserted into us when we are born. It has all our information, every movement we’ve made, every conversation we’ve had. The only thing it doesn’t have are our thoughts. The Government can’t monitor every chip personally, but the chip is keyed to pick up on certain words and certain images. You’ve probably already triggered it today and the Government will have access to anything you’ve done in the last two years, Moon , and beyond that, too.”

Zefir’enel felt cold, like the blood had drained out of her as she listened to her sibling and she looked up at him with suddenly scared eyes. “How…what I am I going to do?”


Her brother’s brown eyes, so steady and sure as they looked back into her own calmed her heart. “You’re going to come with me. I have friends who will help remove the chip, but after that, you can’t go back home.”

“That’s what you did. You got your chip removed.” It was suddenly so clear to her now. Her brother hadn’t come home to PROTECT her and their family! It wasn’t because he was so busy. It was because he was staying under the radar and going back home was risky! And now he was telling her she had to live the same life if she wanted to stay safe and to live, and while it scared Zefir’enel, it also excited her in a way she’d always wanted to feel.

Her violet eyes rose to meet Bor’sanin’s then, resolved and strong, determined and stubborn. “Okay. I will trust you. I will go with you.”

Her brother smiled and kissed her forehead. “Good girl.” He reached out and she took his hand, hopping down from the table and following him out the door as he looked down the hallway. They snuck through the Fire Station and out one of the back entrances, and Bor’sanin led them along the dark streets until they came to the transporters that would take them to the second circle. Zefir’enel wanted to question just how he thought they were going to use them since the machines were shut off at night, but her brother surprised her once more as he punched in a code that had one of the devices whirling to life.

He motioned her to hurry onto the platform and Zefir’enel closed her eyes, feeling a wave of nausea as they disappeared from the first circle and then appeared again on an older, less shiny platform in the second circle. The streets here were just as devoid of movement, but Bor’sanin made them walk quickly down the streets and he finally pulled her to a red building with a door exactly like all the others around it. Unlocking it, he led her inside and then locked the metal door securely.

Zefir’enel blinked as the light was turned on and looked around the simple apartment. It had a run-down couch and a coffee-table in the living room, nothing else. In the kitchen was a simple transport machine for food delivery, some dirty dishes in the sink and a water purifier attached to the faucet in the sink. A hallway led off to what looked to be one bedroom and Zefir’enel would bet anything it was as simple and brown as anything else in this place.

“Is this your-”

“Home? No. This is a temporary safe-house for new mutants. One of many. We bring you here when you still have the chip and if this place gets raided later, the police find nothing to help them. I can’t take you to any of our real homes until the chip is gone.”

Zefir’enel nodded, understanding and she cautiously sat on the edge of the couch as her brother disappeared into the bedroom down the hall. He emerged a few minutes later dressed in jeans and a dark blue button-down shirt, having changed out of his uniform. He got a glass of water from the kitchen and then another, handing it to her as he sat on the opposite end of the sofa.

Zefir’enel didn’t drink, watching him, suddenly feeling very overwhelmed and unsure. She curled her bare toes into the rough carpet and turned her gaze to the water in her hand. What was she doing here? Was this really the right choice? She continued to stare at the water like it might give her the answers. Bor’sanin’s voice soon made her look back at him, though, and she saw not the confident mutant-rebel her sibling had transformed into but her BROTHER. It was instantly reassuring.

“Hey, Moon, I never did ask; What exactly can you do?”

The young woman sighed, something like relief and preparation in the sound as she sat back on the couch and pulled her legs up, absently running her hand down the tail she could feel under her pants. Bor’sanin watched the movement, suddenly knowing why she’d done it before in his presence.

“Well, the tail…I can’t really use it all that often, but I can make it wrap around things, big or small, doesn’t matter and I have really good balance because of it.” Zefir’enel picked at the skin on her fingers, frowning. “The dreams and the visions. Those are newer and they are different from each other and not the same thing.”

“What do you mean?”

She now had her brother’s full attention and for the first time since she’d gotten her powers, Zefir’enel was allowed to TALK about them and she found she had a lot to say.

“See, the visions I understand. They’re of the future. I can see anyone, but I usually like to focus more on the people on this level of Ruuk. They are the ones who need help and I think my desire to help them can control my gift to a degree. I don’t know for sure, but I haven’t got to test the theory yet either.” The young woman scowled at her water as if it was the cause for her trouble and then pushed her white hair back behind her ear, knowing it wasn’t doing much in making it look better, but her attention on something entirely different than her looks. It usually was.

“I can’t make the visions come and I can’t make them stop when they do come. They make me shake and convulse, and I can’t see anything but the vision. Some people have seen me having a vision, but I can always explain it away. They usually happen at night, when I am tired, sometimes when I am sleeping, but sometimes the dreams come instead.”

“The dreams? Aren’t they visions, too?”

“No.” Zefir’enel put her water down and stood, feeling the need to move as she spoke, her hands gesturing as she did so. “No, the dreams are different. They are both about the past and present, but not the future. They aren’t visions and I’ve only been having them for a few days. They don’t feel like my gift, but something much more powerful.”

“What are they about?” her brother asked, his eyes following her movement and Zefir’enel glanced at him with a blush spreading across her cheeks and she cleared her throat, looking away.

“A man. They are all about the same man.” She hurried to say more as her sibling’s brows shot up on his face. “It’s not like that! I don’t feel anything like...that for him! It’s just…I don’t know him, but I see his life so clearly. I’ve never seen him before, though, not even in passing. He doesn’t live in a City.”

“In this City, you mean?”

“No. In ANY City, Bor’sanin. He doesn’t live under the domes. He lives on the outside, in gray mountains.” the young woman whispered, seeing not her brother but the black-haired, pale green-eyed man who’d haunted her dreams for nights now. She was honest when she said she didn’t feel anything romantic for him, not even fleetingly. But she did feel SOMETHING for him. What it was, she couldn’t explain, but she knew she did.

And it wasn’t just curiosity for him and the world he lived in, though, that was part of it. It was the connection she felt with him, a person she’d never met, that drew her in and made her wonder. But how could she explain that to her brother when all he seemed interested in was the idea of someone living outside the domes?

“Don’t you see, Zefir’enel! If you’re seeing people outside the domes, then it really does confirm that people can live outside of the Cities. Mutants could leave the Cities and be free of the Government.”

“Perhaps.” Zefir’enel said it to appease him as she paid attention to his words again, but truly she did not know what she thought about such an idea and she really wasn’t up to thinking about it tonight. She yawned, gaining her brother’s attention and he stood. “Come on, Moon. You sleep and I’ll keep watch tonight. I will introduce you to some of the others soon. Sea might understand better what you are talking about than I do anyway.”

The young woman smiled and nodded, agreeing, though, she had no idea who he was talking about. It really didn’t matter right now, though. What mattered was the bed, though old-fashioned and dreary with its gray blanket, was clean and softer than it looked when she laid on it. What mattered was that her brother now understood what was going on in her life and she understood that she wasn’t alone.

What mattered was that even though she might never get to go home again, she was safe. That’s what mattered.

Zefir’enel went to sleep knowing she was looked after and that no matter what happened tomorrow, things were going to work out. They just were.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 He woke feeling alert and nausea-free, without a headache or that hazy feeling that often occupied his mind after he’d been sick. There was nothing. Nothing that might indicate he’d felt like crap the last time he’d been awake…and that was something to be interested about in Caln’s way of thinking.

He woke himself up more fully and raised his head from his arms, gray eyes quickly flickering about their surrounding area. Caln relaxed his coiled muscles as he saw a campfire and around it the six members of his tribe. It was growing dark around them and colder, but his people looked to be just fine and Weln glanced over toward him and then did a double-take before she smiled and rose from her spot by the fire to come to his side.

Her action caught the others’ attention and they looked over as well as she crouched by her brother’s side and without a word, felt his forehead. Caln batted her hand away, frowning. “I’m fine.”

Weln crossed her arms and the War-Leader sat up, shaking his head and running his hand through dark blond hair that he knew had to be sticking up all over the place. “Really, I am. I don’t feel sick at all.”

“Headache?” That was Caab, venturing over as well and Caln shook his head again. “None. Where are we?”

He was looking around again, but in the dark it was hard to make out exactly where they might be and when he looked up he didn’t see even a glimmer of the stars. They were…underground?

“We’re in the first cavern you led us to, in the Haaprin Mountains.”

Right. The cave. Wait…the dragons. The girl!

Caln sat up further, instantly on alert as he scanned the faces around him, but when he didn’t see the one he’d hoped to, he relaxed again. Okay, more like slumped, but he’d never actually admit to that. His gray eyes met his sibling’s black and brown ones. “Did I dream it? The dragons, did I dream them?”

“You sure didn’t, Caln. They’re here, further down in the caverns, but we weren’t sure if Caab could keep them from advancing on us while you were unconscious so we moved back up here.” Danil answered. He might have looked like he wasn’t paying much attention to the conversation as he hid behind a curtain of red hair, but though he was the quietest member in the small group, he was also the one who had the most thoughtful things to say and could usually be counted on for good advice.

Caln let out a breath of relief that only his siblings heard before he looked between Weln and Caab. “And the girl?” He felt like his heart couldn’t even beat as the two looked at each other and then back at him and he wondered if his hope shone in his gaze.

Weln finally nodded, watching her brother closely. She’d never seen him so anxious for an answer before and the fifteen year old was starting to wonder if it was the dragons they’d been trying to find at all and not something - or someone - else entirely. “She’s with the dragons. She did something to you.”

Caln’s hand immediately went to his collarbone without prompt. He could almost feel the place the girl had touched. The memory was hazy in his mind, but there was now a connection of some sort that he could feel between them and he just knew where her fingers had been against his skin. And he somehow knew that yes, she had done something to him, but what it was…he could not have said.

“Has she been here since then?” How long had it been anyway?

“She came peeking into the cave yesterday, but we haven’t seen her since then.” Fara answered with a shrug.

Caln nodded, thoughtful before he stood, much to the surprise of his siblings, and grabbed a torch from his pack. He crouched to light it with the campfire and Weln put her hands on her hips, a scowl on her face. “And just WHERE do you think you’re going? You were just sick!”

“I’m not sick anymore. And I won’t be again.” Caln replied calmly and cast his sister a glance when she stared at him, uncomprehending. “I can’t explain it, but I know it‘s true. I won‘t be sick again.” He stood once more, every movement fluid and sure in a way it hadn’t been in months. “That girl is the reason I came here. I know I am here, with her, for a reason and I need to find out what that reason is.”

He didn’t expect them to understand. He barely understood himself, but Caln’s mind was made up and his tribe could clearly see that. They didn’t try to stop him as he started down the rock tunnel, but after looking at each other, Caab and Asin silently followed their War-Leader with Caab giving Weln a warning look to stay put.

Caln moved down the tunnel in a sure way and Asin wasn’t the only one who saw that the War-Leader didn’t need to follow the charcoal lines that had been made. He seemed to know the direction to go instinctively and they soon arrived back in the heated, glowing red cavern with the magma pools below and the dragons laying about, soaking up the constant heat.

Gray eyes wandered over the creatures, searching, paying little heed to the animals themselves in favor of their goal. Caln could feel her, sense her. She was here and close. He didn’t know how he knew this, but he knew some things were beyond explanation at this point and now that he was HERE, it almost didn’t seem to matter that he didn’t exactly understand what was gong on.

The War-Leader was the only one who didn’t start with surprise when the girl seemed to drop from the rock ceiling to land right in front of them on her hands and feet in a crouch. Her red-brown hair flew about her and then settled wildly around her shoulders, down her back and around her face.

Asin and Caab had taken a step back, hands instinctively going to their weapons, but Caln had not moved and now he and the wild girl looked at each other, searching for something even they could not identify the name of. All Caln knew was that looking into the young woman’s amber eyes was like looking into the sun. They seemed to draw his eyes even as he wanted to look away for the intensity her gaze. She seemed to burn like fire, passionate and uncontrollable, but there was a strange gentleness to her as well, a welcoming quality underneath the scorching heat.

He felt the power inside him, suppressed from full potential for so long by the frailty of his own body, rising up to meet her fire. But as of yet, the two strong wills seemed unable to touch, not really, but the idea was enough to draw them both like moths, neither understanding what was going on, but wanting to know more.

Caln watched the girl rise to a standing position, her posture surprisingly straight and her head up, proud. Somehow, the dark blond was more than sure that she knew exactly what she was, that she was like them and yet not like them all at the same time and he found a smile curling at his lips. He spoke in a low voice, never taking his eyes from the amber ones that burned into his gray.

“Caab, can you tell her we are friends and ask her what her name is?”

The girl hadn’t even seemed to really look at either Caab or Asin, her eyes only for Caln, but the War-Leader was positive that she knew they were there and he could see how her body coiled, ready to fight or flee at the slightest provocation.

He saw his brother shake his head from the corner of his eye. “It doesn’t really work like that, Caln.  There are only so many words these creatures actually share among themselves and most of these ‘words’ are more impressions and ideas than actual speech.”

Caln frowned, finally taking his eyes off the girl to look at his brother, raising a brow. “Say again?”

Caab sighed and started trying to explain a power that was complicated to understand and relay to someone who had an inkling of what he was talking about. Explaining it to Caln…was just going to be a headache.

“To simply put it, I could tell her that we are ‘not-prey’ and also that we are ‘hunter’, but trying to explain that we are both not something to eat and predators like the dragons AND don’t pose any sort of threat to her would be like us…trying to wrap our minds around what the word ‘infinity’ means. It’s….complicated for the dragons to comprehend. To them, prey is prey and a hunter is a hunter. To be able to get along with a hunter that is not a dragon is almost unthinkable to them.”

Caln crossed his arms and sighed, letting the tension inside go as he knew this could potentially be a loooong conversation with Caab. Things like this always were, but he HAD asked this time. He looked back over at the girl and saw, with some surprise, that as he’d relaxed his body, she’d done the same, watching him.

He tilted his head, a slight smile forming on his face before he looked back at his brother - but not before he saw the wild girl tilt her own head to imitate his. “She’s human, though. Her intelligence is above the dragons, right?”

Caab rubbed his temples, looking down at the stone floor in a clear sign of frustration and an effort to be patient. “Technically, yes, but…humans are raised among humans. We learn how to think in words and how to pick up communications skills from those around us. It appears this girl might have been raised here. She shows no verbal skills, her behavior is much like the dragons’ own and she is overly curious about us. If she learned from an early age the ways of those around her, it would stand to reason that her ‘language’ is that of the dragons. She might think differently than we do, maybe in pictures or instinctive urges.”

Caln was frowning again, gray eyes narrowing. “So she can’t learn to talk?”

“No, no! That’s not it. Look at her.” Caab gestured to the girl with his hand and she showed her teeth to him, hissing. Caab ignored the sound. “She’s curious about us in the same way a child would be. The human mind is always developing, always trying to understand the world around it. Her mind might have developed differently due to her raising, but that doesn’t mean she can’t be taught new things.”

“She’s already figured out that you’re the one to watch, Caln.” Asin pointed out with something like a laugh in his voice and Caln looked back at the girl to see that her arms were crossed and she was watching all of them with a narrowed-eyed look. Just like he’d been doing.

Caln couldn’t help the smile he showed, watching her and she looked back at him. He tilted his head experimentally and she tilted her head, back studying. He uncrossed his arms and she slowly did the same thing a moment later. Caln spoke quietly again, watching her. “Is there any way to find out her name?”

“She might not have one.”

The War-Leader glanced at his brother with a raised brow, exasperated and Caab sighed, rolling his eyes, but turning his attention to the girl. He started to growl after a moment, following the sound with a few chirps and a warble.

Amber eyes blinked at him for a moment and then the girl started to laugh in a warbling way and she uttered a series of chirps and whistles before looking back at Caln and chirping in a way that could have been a chuckle. A moment later she was gone, leaping off the ledge and scampering to the floor below and weaving among the dragons.

Caln watched her and then looked back at his brother, thoroughly confused. Caab only shook his head, highly amused. “I tried to ask what her call was. Each dragon has one, a certain whistle or chirp or warble that identifies them.”

“And?”

“She called me a dragonling. I think she means my speech.”

This time it was Caln who could not help chuckling.

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She had been happy to see him, the gray-eyed stranger. She didn’t know why, but when he’d appeared on the ledge, she hadn’t hesitated to go toward him, to show herself. He’d appeared healthy, no longer sick and in pain and her heart had been happy to see it, though, she did not know why that was.

And she’d been happy to see the spirit in his gray eyes. It was like the fire-ones’ spirit. It was like a flame, hot and strong, destructive and safe all at once. His eyes blazed with the spirit inside him, but she felt like she was the only one who could truly see it.

She’d stood when in his presence. It seemed wrong to crouch, to be looking up to him. Their hearts were equals, she could feel it in a way she’d never felt with any of the fire-ones before. She was always the young one with them. They were more powerful than she and she had always been submissive with them. She was coming into adulthood now and trying to find her place. Her spirit was testing the limits it must keep in the pack and the strength of the others around her.

Now her own spirit seemed to want to rise up to meet the gray-eyed stranger’s in a challenging way…but also in a soft way, in an understanding way. She was curious about him, was drawn to him in a way she could not explain and she had to wonder if this was the mating call the other fire-ones always felt. She had never thought to feel it. She was a child of the fire-ones but she was not a fire-one. She knew that. She was stranger, but not a stranger at the same time.

She looked like they looked, but her heart had never called to one of theirs. Was that what it was doing now? She thought maybe it was for when the gray-eyed stranger looked at her, she felt like she could trust him, like she was supposed to be with him, to follow him. Like she was home.

It was the most peculiar feeling. She’d never felt like that around a stranger before.

If it was the mating call, though, then she needed to understand more about the gray-eyed stranger. That was clear - mating call or not - for she understood nothing of what he did. His face kept changing, from something that looked angry to something that looked happier when he glanced at her and she found herself trying to find some pattern to the faces, but she could not.

He was already very confusing to her and she understood nothing of what he was saying. She knew the strangers’ range of sounds were much different than the fire-ones’ range. They seemed to communicate in more complicated ways, but she’d never been concerned about knowing what they were saying.

Until now.

She knew just by observation that the gray-eyed stranger was the alpha of his pack. The other members obeyed him and when he made sounds at them, they always answered back and their body-language was always respectful, submissive. Even when the gray-eyed stranger was relaxed, his demeanor was dominate, powerful.

And he affected everyone around him, she knew that just by how her own body had relaxed or stiffened with his own. Perhaps the strangers could sense these types of things, too, for they were all looking at her again as she shifted her positions slightly. The idea whirled slowly through her mind and she acted on it slowly, looking at the gray-eyed stranger carefully before she moved her arms in the same position he had his.

Perhaps, if they could not communicate through the same sounds, they might be able to do it through body-language? It was a new idea, but it would only work if she could figure out what each of their cues meant and how to apply them properly.

She watched the strangers look at her again and felt a thrill of excitement when the gray-eyed stranger started to look at her in that happy way again. He tilted his head, in a way that struck her as experimental and just to show him that she understood what he was doing, she did the same thing back at him and unfolded her arms when he did his.

He started making more sounds again and the gold-haired stranger beside him made sounds back before making an annoyed sort of face and turning to her. He started to growl and chirp at her and her eyes widened at the sounds he made.

Her call? Why would he want to know her call? He was not a fire-one! And his chirps were childish, rough and stammered, unconfident. They were funny!

She found herself warbling in amusement and chirped back at him that he was a very childish fire-one. He didn’t respond to that and she looked back at the gray-eyed stranger, unable to stop another chirp of amusement before she left.

She heard a sound that could only have been amusement from the ledge a minute or two later and warbled to herself again as she pressed against the hide of her mother, chirping back at the fire-one to show she was fine and hadn’t been hurt. Her amber eyes strayed back toward the ledge, though, where the strangers were disappearing back into the tunnel. She knew she probably should not have left, but the strangers had made her head spin from information in just a short time with them and every look from the gray-eyed one had made her want to stay, to follow him anywhere.

The feeling was frightening and she needed to think about it. She needed to decide what she was going to do because she wasn’t stupid, she could FEEL that something was changing. The fire-ones were restless these days and she had felt like something was happening for a while now. She dreamed of the white-eyed stranger all the time now. His spirit was calling her, too, but not in the same way the gray-eyed stranger’s spirit did.

She was going to have to choose to stay with her pack or go with the strangers, she knew she was. She’d known that for a great deal of time now.

She just wasn’t sure if she was ready or not for that big of a step of change in her life.

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Another chapter! :)

Chapter Four

Talis’anarsi knew he’d made the correct decision in following Artem that night. He’d known she would come, had told her as much and he’d believed such a thing with a fierceness that had surprised even him. He’d only held on to two things for the past seven years and that was his very life and the hope of a better one.

He’d known he wouldn’t be under his uncle’s power forever. When he was old enough he would have left and not looked back, but he knew he had to live that long. Those were his goals and they’d gone hand in hand. He’d quietly fought to keep them alive and real, to give him hope and purpose.

And then the dreams had come. They’d been confusing at first, of a black woman he did not know and a life that was similar to his own and yet so different. She had visited him every night until he’d started to look forward to the dreams like a child would look forward to a story at night, wanting to hear the end, wanting to know what would happen next.

He’d somehow known, though, that she was real. It was a sense, a belief he could not shake and somehow he’d known without knowing how that she’d come for him. He’d see her someday. He’d known for two years that she’d come and then…she had.

Artem.

She was unlike any adult he’d ever met. She was like a child in her teasing, but she was never cruel and she was respected by those around her. Talis’anarsi had only known her for a few days, but he felt as if he’d known her forever.

It felt like she was his sister for she treated him as if he were her brother. She called him ‘little weed’ and she never hit him. She never yelled at him or made him do work, though, he tried to just to be helpful. He felt like he owed her that much. She’d saved him. He trusted her without question, in a way he’d not trusted any adult since his parents.

But that didn’t mean he trusted the people around her. Not yet at least and right now Talis’anarsi looked at the man before him with wide dark green eyes, trying not to show how badly his body trembled from fear he couldn’t help. He didn’t like men, especially very tall and commanding males. His uncle had been such a man.

The large Olonian before him didn’t seem to realize how nervous he was making the young teen, though, speaking in a stern way. It was not in an unfriendly way, though, but that was not something Talis’anarsi could recognize yet. He just heard the words and the deep tone, not the meaning behind it.

“Everyone is required to bathe, kid. You’re not an exception, especially not with those grubby clothes. And your skin could use a good scrubbing! Now get in the water, there’s no need to be shy.”

The tribe had journeyed from the Irel Hills, going west until they reached a river that flowed slowly through the Iius Plains, but provided water nonetheless and a way to get fully clean for the first time in nearly two weeks for some people.

The women had gone in their own group up the river and the males had stayed in this spot to do their own bathing. Talis’anarsi had been left with them and now a man the boy had heard was called Roher was trying to make him get clean along with the rest of the boys the men were supervising.

Talis’anarsi was not comfortable with complying, though, and he bit his bottom lip so hard it started to bleed, everything in him wanting to say no, to step back and get away, but he knew - he KNEW - that would garner him a beating. He was never to disrespect anyone by refusing them or turning his back to them…but he really didn’t want to do this and the two powerful things; something learned and something felt, battled fiercely within him.

Roher must have seen his silence as defiance all on its own, though, because the large dark brown-haired man raised his hand and reached for the young teen, intending to ’drag’ him down the path and toward the river. “Come on, brat. I’m done asking you nicely.”

There was a slight teasing in the words and the blue-eyed fire-wielder even started to smile a bit as he took Talis’anarsi’s arm, but the child didn’t hear it, didn’t see it. He planted his feet in the green and brown grass, resisting the pull on his arm and then looked terrified as Roher looked at him in surprise.

“Boy?”

The fire-wielder frowned, taking a step toward the young teen, wanting merely to know what was wrong, but his movement just seemed to alarm the boy even more as the child’s dark green eyes showed terror and he seemed to curl in on himself, flinching away, but not trying to escape the hold on his arm anymore as he stood perfectly still.

Roher could feel the trembles that shook the boy, though, as he held his child’s arm and the large man felt himself struck by the struggle he could literally see tearing the boy in two. The fire-wielder watched the child for a long moment before releasing his arm, somehow knowing the young teen wouldn’t run.

How right he was. Talis’anarsi couldn’t have moved had he been commanded to. Terror gripped him strongly and he couldn’t think rationally. All he knew with certainty was that if he tried to run he’d be caught and he’d be punished and the beatings were always so much worse when his uncle was angry. And in his mind right now, reality and memory were mixing crazily so that he could not think about the fact that his uncle was not here and that no one had hurt him here. He was with the Olonian now, some part of him knew that, but it wasn’t the part controlling him now.

Haunted, shadowed dark green eyes watched as Roher crouched slowly in front of him and Talis’anarsi stiffened, his entire body radiating tension, anticipating a blow it knew was to come. He didn’t move, though he did flinch violently when the large man spoke, voice deep and low.

“Boy, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Please don’t hit me. I know I deserve to be beaten, but I won’t anger you again. Please.” Talis’anarsi whispered. He didn’t stutter or speak his words haltingly. They were delivered calmly and factually. His uncle had hated stammering.

The clarity of such words and the certainty and resignation mixed with a subtle hint of pleading  in them shocked Roher greatly, though, and he surged to his feet. “Beat you! Why would I beat you!?” he roared incredulously and then instantly realized his mistake as Talis’anarsi whimpered and seemed to retreat further into himself, not speaking again.

Roher cursed under his breath, watching the shaking boy. He’d dealt with a child like this before….well, no, Artem had not been like this. She’d been beaten down and trampled on, she’d been starving and distrustful. She’d hated the world and thought people sucked, but she’d had fire and courage, she’d had sass and she’d yelled at him just as much as he’d yelled at her.

This boy…was different. There was a fierce spirit there. One could it see in the subtle things about the child. The boy was still standing despite the beating he was sure to come. He hadn’t curled in a ball on the ground, hiding and he’d obviously been strong enough to learn to speak clearly despite his fear. There was a quiet strength there. The child just needed to tap into it, but Roher would be damned if he know how to take that approach with anyone!

Talis’anarsi heard the large man sigh and then footsteps walking away and the boy looked up through his matted hair to see Roher talking to a boy about his own age. The Olonian youth darted off after a minute and Talis’anarsi bit his already bleeding lip, wondering what was going on.

His mind was slightly clearer now. He knew where he was again, but in a way he still wasn’t okay. He still believed he’d receive a punishment. He’d defied an older person and the rules really could not be that different with the Olonians than they were with his uncle, right?

He really wish he knew what he should expect here. Artem had not gotten to tell him. They had not talked the night after she’d saved him. There hadn’t been time as they’d heard that the Demire army - if sixty men could be called that - were coming after them for the food they‘d taken from the village. Apparently someone in the village had tattled. The Olonian had nearly laughed at such news. Their camp had been packed and ready to travel in a half-hour, but still they’d been busy and there had been no time for Talis’anarsi to understand the tribe all that well.

So in the absence of guidance, his thoughts had reverted back to his time in the village and what he could always expect there. Surely he could expect the same here. After all, he was an outsider and worthless to these people unless they could get something out of him. He’d already shown himself to be defiant, though.

He’d probably messed up any sort of kindness they might have shown him with that stupid stunt.

Talis’anarsi could now feel blood running down his chin, but he didn’t care as the tears ran hotter than fire down his cheeks, leaving muddy trails through the dirt that coated his face. He stood where he’d been left, not daring to move as the heat beat down on him and the sweat that ran down his temple stung a cut he’d received from his uncle. His entire body still trembled subtly, on high-alert for any surprise pain that might afflict him at any moment. He stiffened as Roher started back toward him and he saw the large man stop, seeming to pause before he stopped advancing and after a moment, turned around and walked away.

Talis’anarsi didn’t know what to make of that. Had the man been coming to hit him, but had decided that Talis’anarsi needed a more severe punishment? Was he getting someone else to deliver it?

The agony of not knowing, of waiting was wreaking more havoc on his mind than a beating ever could and Talis’anarsi found himself wishing they’d just do it and get it over with. Wasn’t being hit bad enough?! They didn’t have to play mind-games with him, too!

The thoughts were hot streaks of fire through his mind, but as soon as he saw Roher approaching again they fled entirely and Talis’anarsi had to work to not take a step back and bolt as a shiver ran through his body. He already hurt from his uncle’s beating days ago. The bruises were finally healing! He didn’t want to hurt again, but knew there was nothing he could do about it but endure the punishment and then try to avoid more.

He tried to resign himself to his fate and felt more tears slip down his face before he could regain control. He lowered his head so they wouldn’t be seen, ashamed of them. He was supposed to be brave. That’s what his father had told him to be. To be brave and he couldn’t even do that! More tears ran as Talis’anarsi felt grief come crashing down on his shoulders.

“Little weed?”

His head snapped up at the name and dark green eyes met black ones. Talis’anarsi moved toward Artem before he’d even thought about making his feet do so, his body reacting on instinct and he nearly crashed into her as he ran into her arms and started to sob. She seemed surprised for only a moment and then her arms were around him and her hand was in his hair, holding him close, protecting him.

Talis’anarsi could hear Artem making shushing sounds, her voice a low murmur in his ear as he cried, his body shaking terribly as he let go of the terror and tension that had made him stand rigid not a minute ago. He could let them go now. Artem was here and things were right in the world again. He didn’t know WHY, he just knew they WERE. Artem wouldn’t hit him, she wouldn’t hurt him or betray him in any way. He knew that like he knew anything with certainty at all.

It was enough.

------------------------------

She’d never seen a child look so scared before. When Artem had been informed that something was wrong with her ‘boy’ she’d felt an instant alarm that at the time she’d chided herself for but now knew with absolute certainty had been warranted. The sheer power of the emotions coming off Talis’anarsi had been so staggering that she’d almost forgotten how to breathe when he’d looked up at her.

The grief in those dark green eyes was like a blow and she’d nearly fallen over when the child had crashed into her. Somehow she’d known what to do. Her arms had come up to hold him and her words had come to calm him and all the while she’d been both shocked and amazed all at once at how much trust she felt stream out of the boy.

She looked at Roher over the child’s dirty head and the man merely shook his head and shrugged and Artem could easily feel the confusion from him. The large man spoke quietly. “I don’t know what happened. I only tried to get him to bathe. I did take his arm and that’s when things went down hill.”

“What did he do?”

The black woman asked the question in concern before she thought about how it might sound to the boy in her arms and she felt him stiffen slightly, holding on to her all the tighter. Artem instinctively shushed him again though he was not crying anymore and she stroked his matted hair, reassuring the child that she was not upset with him.

Roher observed the action silently and only when Talis’anarsi relaxed again did he speak. “He started to pull away and then freaked out, asking me not to beat him. I think I scared the boy with my response to that and after that I figured it might just be best to get you.”

Artem sighed out slowly, feeling both angry and saddened because the child‘s emotion showed just how hurt he really was though he‘d tried to put on a brave face the last few days. She was extremely grateful she’d not been far away. Yeah, she’d been bathing and now her hair was dripping and her clothes damp against her skin - oh and with all the dirt on Talis’anarsi she was now muddy, too - but it was worth the inconvenience to reassure the scared boy who hung on to her like a life-line. Artem was sort of liking the feeling of being needed, too, strange as that felt to her.

“Thank you, Roher. I will take it from here.” She smiled at the large man who gave her a pointed look back before he left. The black woman knew what it meant and she sighed again, pulling back from the child who hugged her so tightly. He immediately let go, dark green eyes wide again as he searched her black ones and Artem once again felt that strange stirring inside that told her they were connected.

She still didn’t understand HOW that was possible, though.

The black woman crouched before the boy, looking up at him a bit now. “All right, little weed. What’s the problem here? You do know that the water ain’t poisonous, right? We could find much better ways to kill you had we the mind.” she chided gently and she watched the boy as he seemed to weigh those words and how they were said before his small shoulders relaxed a little.

“I did not mean to cause trouble. I’m sorry.” It was a whisper and Artem snorted with a grin. “Oh, don’t you be worrying about Roher. He’s wrestled bigger warriors than your scrawny butt. He’ll get over being bested by a boy no bigger than a twelve year old.”

She winked at him and Talis’anarsi blinked back at her, seemingly startled by her reaction and then both cautious and curious as he looked after the way Roher had gone, back toward the river that sloped away from them, shielding the two slightly from the eyes below. “He’s not…mad?”

“Worried more like it, little weed. I congratulate you. It takes a lot to freak old Roher out. I might make use of you yet.” Artem grinned as she said the words, showing clearly that she didn’t mean it and she saw the barest of an answering smile on the child’s face before it was simply gone and he was looking down once more, avoiding her eyes.

“I didn’t mean to defy him. I know I should have obeyed.”

Artem sighed, feeling like she was going around in circles by this point. She tilted her head, her wet black braids falling to the side and her brow arched. Her fingers idly played with the softer green grass among the brittle brown ones beneath her. Grass was so scarce, it was nice to just feel it and it grew by the rivers where it would grow no where else. “So why did you ‘defy’ Roher? Are you afraid of the water? Because no one will let you drown, little weed.”

Talis’anarsi shook his head, but offered nothing more than that, shifting in a nervous way from foot to foot and looking down. Artem knew in that instant that she NEEDED to find out why the boy had resisted getting clean as he had. Not just because the child needed a bath - BADLY - but because whatever the reason was…if Talis’anarsi trusted her with it, then it would be a definite step of progress, a step they could build other steps upon.

She decided to take the pace a bit slower now, though, perhaps get the boy to loosen up just a little before she asked what she really wanted to know. Artem sat where she was already crouched and pointed to the ground. No words were needed as Talis’anarsi sat, completely obedient.

Artem put her chin in her hand. “All right, squirt, I’m gonna ask you some questions and I want honest answers, got it?”

Talis’anarsi nodded slowly and Artem noted that he was biting his lip, the same one that seemed to have produced the dried blood on his chin. Damn, she’d have to get him to stop doing that…but one step at a time.

“Can you tell me about your parents?”

Dark green eyes came up, blinking at her with complete surprise and Artem only looked back with a questioning gaze, inwardly wondering at the emotions running through her small charge. He seemed truly amazed that she’d asked such a question and both happy and sad all at the same time. But there was no reluctance to speak on this topic and she took that as a good sign.

“They were nice and…and warm and…I don’t remember them all that well, but I remember that. My mother used to sing to me and my father would toss me in the air until I felt I would fly away.” The love and longing in Talis’anarsi’s words made Artem smile even as she wanted to cry at the pure emotions washed through her. She couldn’t make sense of it either. She never cried! She felt the emotions of everyone and not once did it make her want to cry like the emotions from this one child did.

There was just something about Talis’anarsi that got to her. He’d so very easily slid his way into her life and into her mind with just a look and it unnerved her greatly even as she found it hard to be threatened by him. Not when it seemed like he didn’t have an aggressive or manipulative bone in his body - and that was only from a few day’s observation!

The black woman smiled a little more to hide the sadness she felt, encouraging. “What happened to them?” Surely that man beating the child could not have been his father!

“We traveled a lot when I was younger. My father was a nomad and my mother fell in love with him when he came to the village. She went with him and then they had my brother, Asentho’kiino, me and my sister. When Sentho’kiino was fourteen, I was seven and Jemn‘iasa was three, my mom wanted to go back to the village, to see her brother.” Talis’anarsi was biting his lip again, hard, and Artem reached forward, placing just one finger over his mouth, making the boy release it.

“That’s not a good habit, little weed. Now, tell me what happened.” Her voice was soft, patient in a way Artem didn’t feel as she wanted to know everything, to know everything and help the child before her get better….and maybe to go back to that village and beat the living crap out of the man who’d been beating the boy…

But right now she had to be patient…and she hated it.

It seemed to work for Talis’anarsi, though, as he took a deep breath and started to speak again. “There was a sickness that came through the village while we were visiting. My father, mother, Sentho’kiino and Jemn’iasa got it and they died.” It was said quietly, but simply and the boy swallowed hard before going on and Artem literally watched as his eyes seemed to glaze over and his mind to retreat into a different world, not connected to the words he said, protecting itself.

“My uncle took me in. He didn’t like my father and he was angry at my mother for marring him. He blamed my father for his sister’s death. He didn’t like me either.”

“How long has he been beating you?”

Talis’anarsi shrugged and Artem shook her head, reaching forward to lift his chin and make his distant, dark green eyes meet her black ones. She pushed her power on him then, a slight nudge of bravery, a tinge of clarity and purpose and the boy’s eyes cleared slowly of their fog. Artem waited for that before she spoke, her tone soft but commanding.

“How long, Talis’anarsi? Tell me.”

“Since I was seven and eight months.”

The child whispered it with certainty and Artem whispered back, afraid of scaring him like one would be afraid of startling a deer. “How old are you now?”

“Fourteen and three months.”

The black woman felt like she’d been hit in the stomach and her black eyes slipped closed for a few precious seconds where she prayed for wisdom and the strength to bear this task set before her. Seven years. She’d thought him younger than that. He looked younger than fourteen, acted younger. Yes, being beaten for even one year or one month would have been horrible to hear, but seven years? He’d lost his parents, brother and sister in one fell swoop and then been thrown into a nightmare that had spanned half his young life. And he’d counted the months, he had to have done so to be so accurate about his age.

Artem felt like she might be sick and tried to steady herself as she opened her eyes to meet the dark green ones that only watched her, waiting with the most extreme patience, patience a child his age should not have had.

“I did not mean to hurt you. I am sorry.” Talis’anarsi whispered, searching her face.

Artem shook her head, feeling tears well in her black eyes as she reached forward and pulled the boy into her arms gently, waiting to see if he‘d resist her. The child didn‘t. “No, little weed, no. You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing. I am so sorry for your hurt.”

“It’s okay.” The muffled reply, so sincerely given had the black woman shaking her head again, this time angrily as she hugged Talis’anarsi tightly. “No. No it is NOT okay. It is never okay to beat someone, Talis’anarsi. Never and the Olonian do NOT do such things.” She felt the boy freeze in her arms and when his surprised emotion washed over her Artem felt some understanding come to her own mind. She pulled back at little and looked into the child’s face when he looked up at her.

“Did you know that? No one gets beaten here, little weed. NO ONE. Not me, not Roher, not Eka, not Aenen, a guest or a stranger or a new member of the tribe. No one. Not even you. No one is going to raise a hand against you, Talis’anarsi unless it be in a sparring match and no one is going to make you do one of those unless you wish it. Do you understand that?”

It was apparent that the boy did know that, NOW, but he definitely had not before if the silent tears coursing down his face were anything to judge by and Artem pulled him back to her again, rocking him gently as he curled in her lap. Neither of them said anything, but Artem was smacking herself every which way inside for her cluelessness. She should have made time to explain to him about his new home, about the people here and his role in the tribe. She should have talked to him sooner, made sure he understood that here he was not going to be hurt. She should have recognized what she herself used to be like and remembered the care that had been shown to her. She’d had understanding and care and things explained to her as soon as she was welcomed into the tribe and she hadn’t been nearly as bad off as Talis’anarsi was.

She was going to do better. She was going to make sure that this kind of thing never happened again. She was. The boy in her arms deserved it.

Feeling resolved and therefore stable once more, the black woman pulled back from the boy again and he seemed perfectly fine with climbing out of her lap and crouching before her, his dark green eyes just a little bit brighter, a little bit more trusting than they’d been before.

“Feel better?”

The child nodded and Artem smiled and stood, stretching. “Good, because now we both need baths. You’ve covered me in mud!”

Talis’anarsi’s eyes widened again, the peaceful look leaving and Artem caught onto the tension immediately, speaking quickly before things could escalate, but softly. “Talis’anarsi, why don’t you want to get clean?”

“I..I want to be clean.” the boy admitted.

“Then why won’t you go in the water?”

The child looked trapped and Artem took a careful step forward, making sure none of her body-language read as aggressive as she slipped her fingers under the young teen’s chin, making him meet her eyes.

“Hey, I told you no one is going to hurt you here, right? Or do you have so much dirt in your ears you didn’t hear me?”

“I heard.” the boy whispered and Artem smiled. “Good. Do you believe me?”

There was a long pause, a thoughtful pause before Talis’anarsi nodded slowly and Artem nodded back. “Why won’t you go in the water then?”

“I have to get undressed!” Talis’anarsi blurted it out and Artem blinked, surprised before a smile spread across her face and she started to laugh. “Well, of course you have to get undressed! You can’t bathe in your clothes, little weed!” The black woman shook her head, putting her hands on her hips, a sparkle in her black eyes. “I promise no one will watch you or play any tricks on you. It’s just a bath, Talis’anarsi.” she chided and reassured gently, but the boy only shook his head, now appearing both embarrassed and yet scared all at once.

Now Artem was thoroughly confused and she stood straight, frowning in a puzzled way. “If those are not the problems, then what IS?”

The hesitation and fear Talis’anarsi showed were very real, Artem could feel them clearly and she could feel how much the boy was struggling with them. He’d started to bite his lip again and this time Artem didn’t stop him, she just spoke quietly.

“You can trust me, Talis’anarsi. I promise.”

The boy pursed his lips a little, watching her, thinking on that and finally he stood and with extreme hesitation and effort of will that she could feel, he slowly peeled off his dirty shirt. And Artem somehow knew it was not the bruises that marred his skin, turning his brown flesh dark purple and blue, yellow and green, even black in some areas, that made Talis’anarsi nervous but something else.

She let her eyes sweep over his abused body once before returning her gaze to his dark green ones, the same fondness in her own that had been there before. And Talis’anarsi’s lips twitched in the barest of smiles at seeing it, but even that expression, coveted as it was by Artem, could not hold her attention when she saw the movement behind the boy’s shoulders.

Great wings, feathered white with green tips, rose from behind the young teen slowly, spreading further and further until they were both as long as the boy was tall, unfurling like great flags, brilliantly clean and somehow pure. Majestic.

Artem studied them with wide eyes and she stood slowly, watching the wings twitch and quiver, reflecting every emotion and movement of the person they were attached to. And then the black woman was looking at the boy the wings belonged to and she found she only had one question for him. One burning question that most-definitely needed to be answered NOW.

“How, by the great twin suns, did you hide those under your shirt!?”

Talis’anarsi blinked at her, incredulous. “You’re not mad?”

Artem laughed, looking at the wings again, openly admiring them. Not many powers came in the form of physical ‘deformities‘ and this one was incredible! “Why would I be mad, little weed? They’re beautiful!”

This time the smile that came to Talis’anarsi’s face was just a little bit bigger and it stayed a little longer and Artem felt like she’d just won the best victory in the world. She couldn’t help shaking her head, though, looking again at the wings. “No, really, how did you hide them? They’re huge!”

The boy blushed at that and moved around slowly so she could see his back and his wings started to fold as he turned, their owner conscious of the damage they could do should they hit someone. Artem watched in fascination as the wings folded not how a bird’s wing did but like a pocket-knife might, they folded themselves in half, sliding under each other before they literally started to mold to Talis’anarsi’s skin until there was nothing there to feel, but certainly a great deal to SEE. It looked like his wings were still there, still draping across his back and over the front of his shoulders, wrapping around his sides, disappearing under his pants, but they were flesh against his skin like they’d been inked there.

“I keep them hidden like this.”

Artem nodded slowly and met dark green eyes when the boy turned back around. “Did you get hit for having them?”

Talis’anarsi nodded at her quiet words and Artem sighed. “I thought so. You don’t need to worry about that here, little weed. Most of the Olonian have gifts even if you can‘t readily see them. Everyone will love yours just as much as they love everyone else’s, I promise.”

The child’s eyes narrowed just a little, judging and Artem was strangely happy to see it. “Really?”

Artem laughed and winked. “I wouldn’t lie to you, kid. Now come on, let’s take a bath. Dirt really doesn’t go with white wings…or me.” She held out her hand and the boy took it this time before he followed her without hesitation.

Yep, greatest victory in the world.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Bor’sanin! Give it back!”

Zefir’enel clung to her brother’s back as he spun around, his arm stretched out and hers reaching after it as she alternated between trying to hang on to the laughing man and getting back her pocket-knife all at the same time.

“But little sister, you aren’t supposed to have this! You could cut yourself and what ever would mother say to that?” Bor’sanin laughed again as his younger sister growled in answer and pulled his blond hair.

“Never you mind that! Give it back you big oaf!”

She managed to partly climb over his head in attempt to get the object from his hand, making the man laugh harder and then collapse back on the couch as he lost his balance. Zefir’enel shrieked and then started laughing as well as she attempted to untangle herself from her brother and grab her knife at the same time.

“Ah-ha!” Her hand grabbed around the knife and she held it in the air. “Success! Ahhh!” The knife was suddenly gone again as her brother practically tackled her and then Bor’sanin was darting away, Zefir’enel fast on his heals.

Nevermind.

Success was postponed, but the young woman didn’t much mind as for the next fifteen minutes she and her brother wrestled around the empty house and at the end they both collapsed on the green-rugged floor, looking up at the glass ceiling at the blue-purple sky above. Zefir’enel now held her pocket-knife tightly and she looked over at her brother with a smile.

“I’ve missed you.”

Bor’sanin glanced over, his eyes the same familiar brown she remembered, the same eyes as their father, but younger as Bor‘sanin was only twenty-three, full of life and not worn-down and tired like their father was. “I missed you, too, Moon.”

Zefir’enel wrinkled her nose, looking up at the sky again. “Must you call me that?” she complained, but inwardly could not quell the happiness at hearing the nickname once more. Bor’sanin was already shaking his head in a negative answer, a smile on his lips.

“Not a chance. It’s not often I get to use it, you know.”

The young woman went quiet and nodded before she sat up, white hair now ratted and wild falling about her face and shoulders. Her violet eyes wandered around the lavishly decorated house. The colors were green and blues with dashes of purple thrown in at random. It would have struck Zefir’enel as beautiful had it not been so overdone and had she not lived her and known how expensive everything was. It would have looked different to her had she not had to be reminded all the time how important everything was and how she wasn’t to break anything and don’t sit on the white couch unless her pants were clean and don’t leave food on the green marble counter, it was sloppy and-

“What’s on your mind?”

Her brother’s voice broke through her thoughts and Zefir’enel turned to him, smiling as she rested the side of her head on her jeaned knees. “Nothing. Just how much I don’t want you to go again. It’s lonely here when you’re gone.”

Bor’sanin reached over, tugging a lock of her white hair in a fond way. “You know I would stay if I could, but…” He shrugged and the young woman sighed,

“I know, you’re needed. You have an important job.”

“The fires in Ruuk don’t put themselves out, Moon.”

“I know.” And indeed they didn’t. Her brother’s job was a dangerous one, more-so than many of the others in the City. Fires were a real danger to the inhabitants here and more and more had started to break out as the secret group of protestors had started to cause more trouble. The Fire Fighters were hard-pressed to keep them under control. Hence the reason Zefir’enel nearly never saw her brother anymore.

Still, she was proud of him even if she didn’t like this City all that much. He was protecting PEOPLE, not just buildings. He was a hero in her mind and would always remain such.

“So, what have you been up to, besides acquiring illegal blades?”

The young woman realized her brother must have been watching her and the emotions that flickered across her face and had decided to change the subject. She wished she could go along willingly with his idea, but he’d happened to touch on a subject she couldn’t really answer in great detail.

Zefir’enel shrugged, rising from the floor and starting toward the kitchen’s island table, climbing the three-stepped stair from the living room floor to the kitchen floor by jumping over the steps entirely and then sliding across the linoleum with her socked feet.

“Nothing much. I’m taking some singing classes at the Arts School and I think I might be close to convincing mom and dad to get me a dog.”

“You have a boyfriend yet?” Bor’sanin had followed her into the kitchen, sitting on one of the stools at the island table while he watched his younger sister scroll through the menu-screen that hovered before her, looking for something to eat.

Zefir’enel blushed at the question, her mind instantly going to the dreams she’d been having before she pushed the thought away quickly. No. No that was not the same thing. She didn’t even know the guy and she never felt THAT way when she dreamed of him. But, oh gosh darn it! Why was she dreaming about him in the first place?!

“No.” she answered shortly and her brother held up his hand. “Okay, okay, touché subject. Nevermind. How about a job?”

Zefir’enel selected the food she wanted and pressed her fingers on the screen before closing the device, knowing it would be about two minutes before the food would arrive. Her violet eyes stared at the mahogany cupboards before her without seeing them, her mind going back to the many people she’d helped since the visions had started.

Did that count as a job?

“Nothing so far. I’m still looking.” She turned back to her brother, smiling to hide her inner confusion, but as she came to take a seat opposite him, Bor’sanin frowned, clearly unconvinced as his brown eyes searched her violet ones.

“Zefir’enel, what’s wrong? When I come home you usually have a thousand and one things to tell me and then a thousand more to cram into five minutes before I leave again. What’s going on?”

The young woman looked away, down at her hands as she picked the skin by her thumbs, a habit she only resorted to when nervous. “Nothing. I’m fine. I just….don’t feel like talking all that much. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Moon.” There was a warning note in the nickname at her defensive tone and Zefir’enel looked up, glaring at her sibling. “I don’t have to tell you anything.” she snapped and stood from her seat, going to get the food that had just dinged in the transporter. She opened the door and pulled it out, nearly slamming the tray on the counter before she started to unwrap it and got a fork from the drawer at hip-level. “I don’t need to tell you what’s going on in my life. If you were here more often you’d already know!”

The young woman regretted the words the minute she spoke them and she stopped her movement, shoulders slumping before she turned around slowly to see her brother’s hurt look.

“Bor’sanin, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

“No, it’s okay. I understand.” Her brother was rising from his seat, grabbing his keys and Zefir’enel felt a thrill of panic sweep through her as she rushed forward and around the table, grabbing his arm.

“No! Don’t go! Please don’t go. I didn’t mean it, Bor, not really. Please stay.”

Her sibling looked down at her with a tired expression, a worn one and tucked her white hair behind her ear before his hand came to rest on her own. “I can’t stay, Moon. And it’s not because of you. I was going to have to leave later anyway.”

“But why now?” She’d known, she had, that he’d have to leave today. Bor’sanin was never so active, so friendly and playful than when he had to leave in an hour or so. It was like he tried to make the last few hours of time they had together the most memorable and fun ones and Zefir’enel had always appreciated it even as she knew what it meant and hated it.

“Do you honestly think I want to be here when father, mother and Firsa’leenya get back?” It was said jokingly, and Zefir’enel felt a smile twitch at her lips but the sadness in her heart was greater and she wrapped her arms around her brother, breathing in his scent.

“I will miss you.”

Her sibling sighed, hugging her back tightly. “I will miss you, too. And don’t feel bad about your outburst. It’s already forgiven, okay?”

Zefir’enel nodded and took a deep breath before stepping back and putting on a brave smile. “Stay safe.”

Bor’sanin smiled back and honked her nose. “I will. And you are going to give me some real answers when I get back, got it?”

The young woman batted his hand away, wrinkling her nose. “Got it. Now get going. You really don’t want to be here when those three get back.”

“Don’t I know it!”

“Oh, Bor’sanin, when ARE you going to find a pretty girl to marry and give me grandchildren?” Zefir’enel imitated their mother’s high-pitched voice as they walked toward the door and her brother groaned, shoving her shoulder. “Oh, stop, it hurts!”

The young woman laughed and opened the door before giving her brother another long hug. “I love you and I mean it, stay safe.”

“I will.”

He left then and Zefir’enel watched until her brother was out of sight before she shut the door and leaned back against it with a sigh, letting her head thump back against the dark wood. She loved that Bor’sanin chose to come visit when he would only see just her, but the house always felt much too lonely after he’d gone.

Just like her life.

----------------------------

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