Property of Kimra Lelanst, do not duplicate without consent.
Kalika brushed dirt off her hands eyes shut tight against pain she wasn’t sure she could deal with. Esarel would had cried with her, her grandfather would have shouted at her for being emotional, her father would have ignored her, somehow she was lost without their reactions.
“My lady?” Allen’s weak voice enquired tentatively from the sidelines. Kalika turned her head to face him for a second. Allen still looked sick, but Seres had sent him anyway. She was glad in a small way, she would have resented Seres knowing what was happening and without Allen he would have insisted one Bresaur. Kalika shook her head at Allen for a moment before looking back to the covered grave. She wanted to mark it, but was afraid of making it obvious to thieves. Ivian didn’t have anything of value on him, but thieves wouldn’t know that until he was out of the grave again. Resting on her index finger was the only item of value he had worn.
The golden crest of the Duke of Botearal, a leopard curled around a flame, stared at her from the top of the ring. The day Ivian had gotten the crest she had been there, it had probably been the first time she’d felt completely opposite to him. His emotions she could always pick up on, no matter how bland he kept his expressions, she had always tended to be a bit more sensitive to his sentiment wizardry then others. He had been happy, a little sad because his father had passed away the month before, but happy to be taking up his role as the Duke of the castle, the third in line for the throne, and the heir of his fathers legacy. Kalika had been apprehensive and afraid, one more elevation for him was one step closer to assassination. Recognition had a dangerous habit of backfiring.
She smoothed her hands over the dirt for the hundredth time, trying to fathom why he had been away from his position.
The guards who where waiting for her to finish looked unsettled and not at all sure of what was happening. Allen was a bit separate from them. Seres had ordered them to assist her, and to keep it quite. The men where the type who wouldn’t say a word if there lives depended on it, but that didn’t stop them from having reservations about her special treatment.
Pulling her hand into a tight fist and releasing it, she wondered if she should have demanded the right to bury the other eight men. But she’d been distracted unable to think, and she knew the chance to plea for there burial’s had passed before she had time to spare a thought for them. Not that it mattered, so long as the royal blood was cared for.
Kalika sighed and pulled herself to her feet staring at the newly turned earth.
“May I borrow your blade, Allen?” Kalika did not look at him, as she spoke with a gentle voice. She wondered if he would resist her, the other guards at the edge of her awareness seemed to tense, but she felt the handle of a small blade press into her numb hand. Kalika looked at the blade and at Allen letting her gratitude seep through the eye contact then she pulled away. Walking respectfully around the grave and begun to engrave words in the tree. The tree almost cried with protest in her mind and she soothed it quickly pressing her request to it, and felt it surrender. The exchange she hardly noticed as she continued to carve words out.
Ever since her grandfather had given her the phoenix arrow she had grown accustomed to the bits of life that seemed to appear around her. Usually she would not have a conversation with a tree, but every now and again one felt the need to say something, and she was never really aware of the peculiarity of those moments.
Leopard of the flame, Beneath earth, above sky, Walk swiftly the passages of gods, Look not back, look beyond.
Kalika stared at the words for a moment wondering if they where adequate, but it was as much a marker as she would dare. Especially so close to the wretched thieves passage. Kalika pushed away from the tree, and held the blade out to a waiting Allen.
“He shouldn’t have been here.” She told Allen in a whisper, her insides disintegrating her eyes still dry. “And with only eight guards!” She cried louder wishing Ivian had had more sense.
“All in all, nine men attacking a camp this size is futile.” Allen muttered beneath his breath but she snapped to stare at him surprised by the words.
“Nine?” Kalika repeated her heart sinking deep in her chest. “One leader, eight men.” Kalika whispered in remembrance. “One must be mage, two must be thieves, two assassins, two warriors, and two hunters.” Her tone dropped further. “Yellow Dragon…” She cursed her body weakening. “He was looking for me.” The words caught in her throat her body refusing to respond. Her mind reeled. Of course he had been looking for her. The Duke of Botearal had no reason at all to be on the southern side of Dreieshmikal, unless war was declared from that vicinity, and as far as she knew war was a long way from being declared.
The knowledge that he was looking for her, piled onto her anger and pain adding an amazing amount of guilt. Her first thought was the most important, it couldn’t happen again. Her next was uncertain, she had to talk with her guard, her real guard.
So she stepped away from the grave calmly, her thoughts although they would often return to the scene drifting away as she planned what had to be done.
* * * * *
Kalika’s closed eyes followed the slowly progressing moonlight. It pressed in against her body with reassurance. She felt most alive of a night-time, always glad for it’s security.
The soft drizzle of rain sprinkled about her body, soaking into her long sleaved white top, and sliding off the black leather pants Elgaron had made her. The damp material of her shirt did nor faze her as she sunk deep into her thoughts.
Ivian’s ring rested on her index finger still, giving it’s own comfort. The ring felt like him, she couldn’t explain precisely why but she knew it wasn’t her hopeful imagination, perhaps his magic had soaked into the ring, just as his burial sight would for some time reverberate with his last emotions.
She pushed thoughts of him away, focusing instead on her strained body, she had just collapsed from pattern dances. She had hoped with exhaustion sleep would come but she had been fooling herself, and instead of being able to distract herself with movement she had repeated her pattern dances until her legs would not hold her. Now there where much fewer things to distract her.
Relaxing her senses she focused on the noises around her. From the sigh of the long grass by her ear as the gentle breeze made it sway, to the drops of water falling from the small puddles they had formed in the curves of leaves around her. The soft scuttle of forest mice a little distance from her small clearing, and the ‘tock’ sounds of frogs basking in the drizzly weather where the only signs of life.
Her mind accepted the serenity and security about her, any intrusion on her rest and the animals would become still, as they had when she had first approached.
She had snuck out of the tent, after Allen had escorted her back to it. He had even given her an apologetic look as he pushed her into the tent. She had been glad Seres had not been there, her emotions, what ever they where, had been far too intense to survive a confrontation at the time. She knew they still where, but she was working her mind around ignoring what had happened, for even just a second. The harem however had proved they had been gossiping with their guards again because they had a vague description of what had happened.
Kalika had never been more tempted to stab anyone as she had during those first fifty high pitched questions, instead she had settled for ignoring them. Only Selen’s worried expression showed more then childish curiosity. Kalika had still not responded to Selen, despite the obvious worry, she couldn’t explain what was going through her mind at that time and pity would do nothing to return Ivian.
So she had gone to bed, closing her eyes and pretending to sleep. She had listened to the harem talking amongst themselves in volume, tears rolling down her checks. There frivolous discussions about her tragedy made her angry, but she did nothing to stop them. When Seres had finally walked in, it was hardly for any time, he had taken a little food then disappeared out the tent doors again showing every sign of not returning. She was tempted as habit would have it to declare his bed her own that night, but even the slightest possibility of him returning kept her away.
When the harem had finally talked themselves into sleep Kalika had snuck out the main entrance, slinking past Bresaur's even fighting the fear that they would follow her. They remained unmoving at their posts, and she had slipped quickly into the forest nearest the harem’s tent.
Even fading out of sight of the camp within the thick branches of undisturbed trees she had known that Seres would be aware she had left the tent. She doubted that anyone could enter or leave that tent without him being completely conscious of it. But she had not really cared, defiance for the man who had brought so much pain to her suddenly was a highly pleasing concept.
Then there was this clearing, she had stumbled upon it as she moved aimlessly, not searching for an escape nor allowing herself to remain still. And it had offered a sense of serenity she had been searching for. Still thoughts of the day had intruded and sleep continued to elude her so she had begun her pattern dances with a furious pace to distract herself.
She had surrendered her attempts at patterns dances when her legs had refused to respond any more, and instead she had crumbled to the ground, panting heavily and throwing her attention any where but at her depressing thoughts.
And it was as she waited, feeling the moonlight press against her skin, listening to the wildlife that thrived in the deep forest, that she heard it again. The sound of waves whispered gently in the wind, rolling through the forest with a strange intensity.
As fixated as she was on distracting herself, the noise was an obvious relief and her entire attention became dedicated to finding it’s origin. Forgetting how tired she had been the moment before she rose from the ground, her hearing locking onto the faint murmur of sound and her feet carrying her deeper into the forest.
It was strange she knew as she followed the noise that it sounded so similar to her arrows own voice. Not that the arrow had a voice, it was something different, something she could never explain and something she had found no one else ever seemed aware of. She pushed through the thick tree’s and stopped, face to face with the cliff wall.
“Curses.” Kalika growled craning her neck to see how high the ridge was at this point but it was the same as always, formidably high. With a sigh she clenched her eyes shut listening intently for the waves almost afraid they had gone and left her to her own thoughts. But as the worry started to build her sharp ears picked up the sound reverberating off the cliff. She hesitated staring at the red rock then pressed her ear up against it curiously, eyes half lidded in concentration.
She found the haunting music rippling along the surface, far fainter then it had been in the forest but still there. Her hand clenched for a moment and she tilted her head, trying to pin the direction she noise came from. Her heart skipped a little beat when she realised the noise was in the direction of the camp, but she suppressed emotions and followed the enticing sound.
Instincts that she had cultivated under her grandfathers tutelage told her not to approach what was obviously a work of magic and could pose a danger to her.
Instincts she had been born with urged her curiosity and determination forwards with an understanding that there was no danger from this magic.
Kalika bit down on her lip, her feet never slowing as she followed the cliff face. As always she followed her natural instincts, ignoring with all her strength years of training. She kept her left hand outstretched and running along the rock surface. Good eye sight she may have had, but her attention was too fixed on her query to pay attention to her surroundings.
The drizzle shifted into a light rain as she passed the back of the harem’s tent, although she paid little mind to her surroundings she knew she was passing it. And the light rain became a proper down pour before she was half way through the camp, but the rain was comforting and the camp was silent. Nothing seemed willing to distract her as lightning crashed across the sky.
She walked through the entire camp without being interrupted and slipped into the forest on the other side. When she truly noticed the tree’s her attention became more sharpened onto the sound of water, it was this forest that Ivian had been buried in, and she refused to let grief take her again.
Some time latter, her mind radiating a song that had not once increased in volume though felt closer, that she noticed the strange sensation running from her hand through her arm. Passively she looked at her hand, and found it embedded wrist deep in the rock. Immediately she cried out, yanking her hand against her chest protectively and staring at the surface with wide eyes. When nothing happened she wiggled her fingers cautiously and found them completely undamaged.
Curiosity swamped her and she lent in towards the surface, her nose almost touching the seemingly solid surface. She breathed in deeply searching for danger, then tentatively she reached her abused hand back towards the surface. Her breath caught in a hiss when her fingers passed through the rock as easily as they would water. When her wrist was nearly completely swallowed by the strange surface her fingers once more made contact with rock and she let the breath out. Intrigued she reached her other hand in, and felt what she presumed was the cliff face a hands width behind the artifice before her.
Her eyes darted about the forest around her with caution, if she didn’t know magic when it was at work she would have been a fool. Far to many nobles used pet mages to protect there secrets. When she was certain there where no visible adversary’s about she continued her walk, her hand pressing in against the solid surface as she moved with caution.
It was only five steps before her entire arm was concealed by the falsified cliff face and she was left with a decision. Her eyes travelled the visible surface along it’s path with disinterest, it continued in the same manner as it had before. But it was obvious that the solid rock was bending deeper into the cliff, hiding something important.
It was hardly a decision, instincts that had argued with themselves at the beginning of her passage suddenly melded together to make it impossible to want anything else. Her grandfather told her to discover what was hidden, her body demanded she state her curiosity.
With one last drawn breath, ignoring all potential danger she walked though the insubstantial surface. She walked into blankness and was immediately overwhelmed with the roaring sound of the ocean. For a moment she blanched, clutching at the barely visible surface of rock before her, trying to control the pulsating sound within her mind. She bit down on her lip refusing to shout out, not even certain if crying out would do more then call forwards danger. But as suddenly as the assault of sound had began it ceased and her mind was left to recuperate while her vibrating body struggled to regain the control she had, had the moment before.
She lent her back against the rock surface looking out at the forest behind her, there was a thin flickering veil of colours that she had to guess was the illusion she had just walked through threaded with other magic that she could barely guess at.
“-problems with the dragon?” Seres’ voice pierced the air around her and immediately she had control her body pressing back against the cliff face as rage thrilled through her veins.
“I think it’s gone.” Another male voice, one she hardly recognised sounded assuredly. Kalika scanned her memory and found the image of a short round man, from the first war council she had attended. Beraloe, she thought his name was, though she had hardly seen him since that first meeting.
“Iria will be displeased.” For all the rage she felt for him she could still recognise his tone, and he sounded absently troubled. She looked down the passage that lead into the cliff, there was no doubt the two men where somewhere within.
“About a week ago.” Beraloe continued as if Seres’ had not spoken.
“She’s been singing a lot.”
Kalika inched down the tunnel silently, Seres’ voice was getting softer and she wanted to hear what he was saying.
There was a whisper she couldn’t make out as she inched closer, and was responded to with Seres’ bitter laugh. “I’d be disappointed if you hadn’t.”
“-still in one piece, one completely unharmed piece.” Beraloe’s voice was bitting with barely suppressed anger.
Kalika knew she was approaching them when she saw the dim light shinning through a rough archway and she slowed, tilting her head and standing in the darkest corner to listening intently.
“She was upset.” Seres sounded patient, but that was lost on her. Her back went straight with attention, she had thought they where talking about things worth listening to, not about herself. A part of her betrayed her sensibilities as she found herself determined to hear what he Seres had to say about her.
“She struck you.” Beraloe’s hiss was hardly audible. There was another pause, and she knew without a doubt she was missing vital parts of the conversation but didn’t dare leave her little pocket of shadows, she was already far to close. “Where is she anyway? I can’t see you leaving her just anywhere, especially after today.”
Another pause, but this one pulled at her insides as she wondered if he could tell. Her breathing stopped as she waited for him to reply off handily that she was with the harem but she remembered leaving the tent and the Bresaur’s seeing her leave. She wondered if that meant he had been letting her go, willing to let her escape, and instead of taking the chance she found herself listening in on his conversation in a cave which had been magically protected but had been calling to her. She heard footsteps and saw as he stepped out of the room, turning without a pause to look her in the eye. Hoping foolishly that his eyes would skim past her she waited until he shook his head slightly and approached her.
She went to recoil, but there was solid rock behind her and nowhere to go. He grabbed her arm, oblivious to or ignoring her reaction and pulled her across the passageway. In her frantic thoughts of revenge and anger she did take note that he was not directing her into the well lite room. She noted in fascination as he used his index finger to scrawl words across one of the larger rocks, and gasped despite her better judgement when the stone fell away as if it had never been there.
Her jerked her into the room and turned her around so they where looking into each others eyes.
“Don’t leave.” He warned, his eyes as dark as the air around them so she couldn’t read his expression. Then he let her go and left her, the stone coming back to it’s position before she had time to register that she was trapped.
“I smell fire.” The feeling of water washed through her senses and Kalika spun on her heal to stare into a pair of giant liquid blue eyes.
* * * * *
Seres paced along the soft rug of the cavern floor, his attention detached from his surroundings.
His left hand itched from the magic he toyed with absently. It would take a while to get over the boost of power he had used at the execution grounds but he was working his way back down.
She was in the forest. He could tell from the thin ribbon of magic he had managed to connect to her some weeks ago. The ribbon was weaker then before and he knew it was the days events that had frayed the fragile tie. A tie he was well aware she knew nothing about. It would do no good for her to know anyway, he had kept the same tie on the others at first, well not Yan but that had been different. In the end he released all but the barest threads, they would not stray and he preferred to keep his magic as unused as possible.
Kalika was a different matter, she bore constant watching. Those amazing blue-green eyes where as likely to stray as they where willing. The scrap of a tie he’d managed to form she could remove even unaware of it’s existence, that worried him a little.
“Seres?” Berole’s hesitant whisper spoke through the cavern’s entrance.
Seres rubbed his face roughly, he could have done without he entire day, he hadn’t slept in 3 days and this day had thrown him completely.
“Enter.” Seres spoke as mildly as he could, his little friend would probably notice the strain in his voice but then spy’s where meant to be observant. It took a moment before Berole entered the tent. The spy glanced around, before stepping into the full light of Seres fire.
As Seres moved over to his large desk he wondered if Berole would comment on his obvious discomposure. His movements where followed by Beroles sharp and curious eyes and silence fell between them for a time.
“Problems with the dragon?” Seres asked mildly breaking the silence as he pretended to pay attention to his desk and the things on it.
“I think it’s gone.” Berole’s calm reply gained Seres undivided attention.
“Iria will be displeased.” Seres tried hard not to frown, the dragon just vanishing would in any normal circumstance be a blessing. But considering his day he chose to take it as a warning of worse to come.
“About a week ago. By all calculations.” The spy continued ignoring Seres comment.
“She’s been singing a lot.” Seres added thoughtfully his brow creasing with a frown. He didn’t like changes, especially ones that where not initiated by him. Kalika had sparked Iria’s the attention and that scared him. What he should do was obvious, what he wanted to do was completely different.
“I heard about today.” Berole blurted out forgetting conversations that were cantered around magic, he had no real knowledge of magic.
“I’d be disappointed if you hadn’t.” Seres replied quickly with a small measure of amusement. He could imagine his best spy failing to hear about something that was the topic of choice in the camp.
“I hear she’s still in one piece, one completely unharmed piece.” Berole didn’t betray his emotions towards the whole situation. “I also noticed the Dukes body is missing.”
Seres sighed and pushed his work way, there was no point pretending, Berole had a knack for knowing when it was an act. Besides they where friends, at least he thought they where and that’s what mattered.
“She was upset.” Seres explained calmly trying to make it sound off handed like a common occurrence.
“She struck you.” Berole retorted sharply, then quickly grimaced aware of the indignant emotion he had betrayed. Seres was very glad the man only failed to keep his emotions in check when they where having privet conversations, he would be useless as a spy otherwise.
“She’s just lost a loved one.” The words stuck in his throat regretful that he had said them while his mind denied it. He felt himself boiling with an unexplainable jealousy that left him almost glad he had hung the Duke. He knew what emotion stirred the jealousy, he wasn’t so foolish that he could deny it, but it was a dangerous emotion, especially linked to the spit fire, to Kalika.
“I would have thought you’d have her more subdued by now.” Berole looked about thoughtfully then turned a raised eyebrow to Seres. “Where is she anyway? I can’t see you leaving her just anywhere, especially after today.”
Seres sent his awareness along the weaving tie. Once more cursing having let her see the hanged men, as he sensed the fragility of the link, it had taken far too long to establish the tie and now it was slipping.
Following the weak tie took only a second and he realised with amusement that she had just made her way into a part of his camp only his three most trusted advisors knew about. The woman didn’t know how to keep her nose out of his business, not that he really wanted her to. Because if nothing else she made things more interesting for him.
Pushing away from his desk he gave Berole a warning glance and purposefully walked out of the room fingering the link to be sure of her exact position. Out the door her turned to his right, eyes falling on her shadowed form. If it wasn’t for the magic she may have even blended with those shadows, so still she was standing. He fixed his eyes on where he knew hers to be and considered the situation.
Her showing up here right now wasn’t a coincidence, he knew coincidences and this wasn’t one. This was the work of the cursed creature in the other room. She had been singing, Iria hadn’t stopped singing since the girl had arrived and now he realised she hadn’t been singing the dragon to her at all. All along she had been aiming for the girl and distracting him with trivial fire breathing lizards.
He shook the thought from his head and stepped towards Kalika quickly taking a hold of her arm. There was nothing he could do. He knew it as well as Iria did, if the prophet wanted to talk with her new pet she would find a way to do it. Foreseeing gave you advantages Iria often used.
He tugged her to Iria’s room and traced the pass across the door then waited till the stone had moved away before propelling Kalika into the room.
She spun looking indignant and a little bewildered to making him smile briefly. Catching himself he pushed the amusement away.
“Don’t leave.” He warned as harshly as he could before turning and leaving her alone in the room. He needed to get rid of Berole before the spy realised he was hiding more then usual. And it would be better if he gave Iria a few minutes to get acquainted.
He shuddered at the thought, a sense of foreboding settling in. Kalika was his. There wasn’t a doubt, he would kill to keep her now that he had her. But Iria had just staked a claim in the woman and that could mean nothing good because Iria paid attention to nothing but the future, and that meant Kalika no matter how insignificant her role, or what that role was, would help shape it. And that meant she was not safe, because the game he was playing sometimes demanded that pieces be sacrificed.
* * * * *
The first thing Kalika noticed as she looked from the alien eyes was the clear ice like barrier lying between herself and this creature. Her rampant heartbeat calmed at the sight of a barrier.
The second and most intriguing thing was that the creatures side of the barrier was filled with water.
“How are you breathing?” Kalika asked, relatively calm considering her shock. The creature swam closer it’s eyes shifting from the same blue of it’s skin to a glowing amethyst.
“I could ask you the same thing.” A childish smile broke across it’s face as it’s voice bubbled joyfully. “Before I forget. Your horse has sent greetings to you. He can not visit your dreams because they are too well shielded, but he says his name is Jasaper and he is proud to have you as a rider.” The creature giggled again then laughed a music voice that rang with waves and water.
Kalika’s mind whirled, this creature was where the noise had come from. She could sense it in her bones as much as the air that surrounded them. This being had summoned her, or lured her to this place, for Seres of itself she did not know. “Why did you call me?” Kalika managed to choke out.
“Because that is how things where to be done.” The creature told her carefully.
“What kind of answer is that?” She demanded more then a little agitated because she couldn’t decipher what it meant.
“The kind a Prophet gives.” The creature replied serenely but the words made Kalika’s heat race return to it’s raging pace. She stepped back from the creature, her foot sliding along the ground trying not to gain attention. It was a foolish thing to do, not because Prophets where renowned for danger, because they where renowned for their intelligence. The creature titled it’s head at her and pressed it’s face up against the ice barrier. Kalika was vaguely curious if the surface was as cold as it looked. “You want to talk to me.” It’s voice was certain though curious and Kalika found herself stopped her retreat. Not that she had anywhere to retreat to, but she hadn’t thought that far yet.
Instead of retreating she examined the creatures every feature with alert eyes. It’s giant eyes glowed a luminescent purple, it’s skin was a pale blue that was accented by the water about it. It was most defiantly female though it’s figure was more that of a young child then a fully formed woman. Vermillion hair floated down to below it’s waist and Kalika knew it would be longer if dried. The fingers pressing against the ice where longer then a humans, and slightly webbed, it’s toes where similar. It’s skin had a slippery leather appearance. Around it’s waist was a skirt of sorts, constructed from what Kalika had to guess were shells and fish bones, it’s upper half was not covered by any more then the hair that drifted about it. But the most intriguing and convincing of the features it had, where the gills spanning from it’s hips to just below it’s rib cage.
“I want to talk to you?” Kalika repeated dumbly. Her mind whirled, prophets knew everything, at least they where rumoured to. They knew the future if nothing else, and perhaps the creature had known she was coming. That thought woke Kalika up as she stared at the water around it and then straight into it’s glowing eyes. “You where calling me?” Kalika accused surprised by her own stupidity although she had, had scant few moments to come realise it. It gave a bubbly laugh and pulled away from the barrier.
“You want to talk to me.” It repeated with a childish giggle.
“Why would I want to talk with a god?” Kalika demanded, then reminded herself to be polite. God’s where not the sort of creatures you wanted to anger.
“We are not gods.” It replied solemnly, it’s eyes still bright taking the edge off it’s tone. “There is a vast difference between immortality and godliness.”
“But your immortal?” Kalika took a step closer curious, that the creature wasn’t a god made her feel a little better, though it did not eliminate her awe.
“The prophets sit at the highest end of immortality. We can die but only the greatest powers can destroy us. When this world began there where 79 Prophets, there are now 72.” It’s eyes blinked two lids of skin and returned to staring at her.
“What are you doing here?” Kalika asked casually but the Prophet grinned.
“See!” It declared and did a back flip in the water, surprising Kalika. “You want to talk to me!” It giggled again then it’s expression became amazingly clear and serious. “Simply because we are immortal, does not mean we are invulnerable to cages.” It’s eyes skimmed the barrier between them and Kalika’s heart constricted for the realisation that it was a prisoner. Prophets, although mostly considered fables where revered creatures in her kingdom to know one was in captivity pained her to a point that was near physical. “But little bird, you are here and you may now talk to me.” It’s sincere voice affected Kalika and she found herself asking a question she had been plagued by for many months.
“Where is my arrow?” She stared into those eyes, her emotions ignored, the ring on her finger ignored, all she wanted in that brief moment was her arrow, a thought she had not had in a long time.
“I do not know.” The prophet replied it’s head swaying in a snake like manner. Kalika unclenched a fist she had not realised she was moving. “But I know where it will be when you find it.” The voice continued. For all it’s innocence it felt like the creature was playing with her.
“Where is that?” Kalika asked carefully shaking her fingers to relax them.
“In a tree.” The prophet declared with joy and Kalika surprised the urge to shout. The rumours of prophets where very much accurate when they said prophets where next to useless when you wanted a usable answer. Still she filled the answer away, it couldn’t hurt to remember. “Tides are turning, and the fire burns brighter. When the flames emerge loyalties will crumble and empires will build.” The haunting tone of the prophets voice transfixed Kalika the words washing over her but making no sense, nor would they she knew until the moment had happened. It would not stop her from trying to decipher it.
“Why did you tell me that?” Kalika asked, her body relaxed despite the strange ringing in her head.
“Because I was going to.” It replied. Kalika doubted she would get a coherent response even if she pressed so she let it pass.
“Why am I here?” Kalika asked carefully uncertain, the prophet seemed reluctant to answer, and Kalika approached the ice, pressing her hands against the cold surface and resting her forehead so her eyes where level with the prophets. “Why am I here?” She didn’t need to elaborate she knew without a doubt the prophet understood the question even though she was uncertain of what she was asking.
“I was about to ask the same question.” Seres voice drawled behind her and Kalika flinched at his voice. That morning he had killed Ivian, he had taken a life she valued above her own and shown no remorse for it.
“White Light.” The prophet greeted and Kalika’s eyes widened, the prophet had not looked away from her, the prophet had been waiting for him. A tiny frown pulled at Kalika’s brows and she turned to find he was standing far closer then she was expecting. His dark grey eyes where hardly a hands width from her, his lips too close to hers and his body nearly touched her own. She went to step back, remembered there was a barrier of ice behind her and forced her feet to remain still while she thought of another way to dodge him. He made it unnecessary however by turning away from her and walking over to a desk she hadn’t had time to notice. He sat on the edge of it, putting a vast distance between them.
“I wondered how long it would take. I admit you where faster then I was expecting.” He smiled lightly at Kalika, but she saw the solemn expression in his eyes as he looked away from her.
“It is for the best.” The prophet urged.
“I told you to stop singing.” Seres snapped in reply, his dark eyes locking onto the prophet. “The dragon was bad enough.” He added in a tight tone.
“The dragon was fun.” The prophet protested like an errant child who would not repent.
“It killed a platoon of my soldiers.” Seres replied, he seemed to be ignoring that Kalika was in the room.
“It was just playing.” The Prophets voice was filled with indulgent pride. “Introduce me.” The Prophet demanded suddenly looking quickly to Kalika who had moved away from the ice wall to stand a bit apart from both of them.
“You know who she is.” Seres growled his own eyes skimming over to Kalika for a moment before they where locked on the Prophet.
“And you call yourself a noble, a man of honour. Any noble knows an introduction must be made.”
Kalika was impressed by how easily the Prophet was playing Seres because he suddenly relented, pushed himself off the desk and took three long strides towards them. His expression was blank.
“Iria’de’cen, may I introduce you to Fire who Walks. Kalika, this is Lady of Water.” His voice was mild but the sudden screech from the Prophet, Iria’de’cen showed he had hit a nerve.
“I am not Lady of Water.” Iria’de’cen screeched indignant the noise reverberating about the small room intensifying in volume as it went. Seres small smile broke into a fierce grin at her response.
“And I am not White Light.” He was unfazed by the sheer strength of Iria’de’cen’s voice, although Kalika found herself needing to lean against the ice wall. The sound, although Iria’de’cen was no longer screeching continued to throb through the room making her feel dizzy. “Iria.” Seres warned sharply as if aware of Kalika’s disorientation and abruptly the noise stopped.
Kalika felt the ramifications of the moment however and found her legs wavering, she suspected she would hit the floor before she had control and even felt her body begin it’s movements in that direction but the bars around her waist and arm’s stopped her from falling. Confused and disorientated she stared into the light grey eyes barely a breath’s width above her.
“Seres?” She mumbled despite her better training, barely realising he was holding her up. Her mind did not want to continue functioning, and if it was further result of I Iria’de’cen’s voice or if it was his closeness she could not tell. She felt her feet fall from below her and grabbed at his shoulder before she realised he had picked her up. Her heartbeat increased and she tried to remind herself of Ivian’s ring still resting on her index finger but her mind could barely focus on remaining conscious.
“Very good Iria.” Seres growled sarcastically. Kalika shivered, at the closeness of his voice.
“Do not blame this on me. It would have happened anyway.” Iria’de’cen’s voice was lofty and strangely distant. Kalika tried to bring her mind back to her surroundings and clasped at the nearest surface. Her fingers buried into the soft material of Seres shirt and she found herself oddly comfortable.
“Why bring her here?” Seres voice was becoming more distant, and she found her fingers clutching convulsively deeper into the shirt feeling his shoulder muscles below it, the arms holding her tightened in response and she relaxed absently.
“I was curious.” The prophet replied, and Kalika realised she couldn’t hold onto consciousness anymore. The voices where too distant, and she found herself completely uninterested in the conversation. So she allowed herself to fall into the warm darkness.
* * * * *
Kalika woke feeling comfortable, more comfortable then she had felt in a long time. Soft blankets lay above her, and below was a thick mattress cushioning her against the hard ground she was accustomed to. Despite the rain she could hear at the edges of her senses she was incredibly warm. It was the warmth that was the most surprising, she went to shift her weight to see how many blankets where piled above her when she felt the arm tight around her waist. She froze realising exactly where she was without having to look.
How she had gotten there she had to guess, but the fact that she was lying in his bed, and possibly tight in his arms was undebatable. She could feel his warmth pressed in against her back, small breaths caressing her neck, and despite everything she knew it was his presence that was making her feel so comfortable. She stiffened at her own thoughts, and pulled herself out of his hold tight throwing the blankets to the side. As she turned around to face him, she wondered if he was naked, that thought made her blush, even as she came face to face with his open grey eyes.
“Morning.” His voice was slow with caution as he raised his head onto his bent shoulder. Her eyes left his moving to his body which she found, much to her relief, was wearing pants, though he had no shirt on. “Did you think I’d break our deal so quickly?” He enquired casually, though his expression showed him to be on guard. She checked her own state then, and found she was in her bed clothes. She turned her anger and mild embarrassment on him and found he was already prepared to defend himself. “The girls fixed you up. They insisted. They where very certain you wouldn’t want to be sleeping in, and I quote, ‘Those horrible clothes she insists on wearing.’.” He lowered his hands, looking into her eyes with a much calmer expression. “Iria managed to knock you out for a week, though she insists it wasn’t her fault.”
“I spent the week in your bed?” Kalika demanded a little horrified by the thought. He grinned lopsidedly and her heart beat increased at the expression. Trying to distract herself from him she stood, leaving his bed.
“No. You spent the week on your bed.” He waved his hand imperiously in the direction of the harem’s beds. “You spent last night in my bed. After all, I didn’t think you would want to break the deal, and we agreed on once a week.” His smile showed he was devilishly pleased with himself and Kalika found her pulse racing at his expression again. With a loud curse she stormed away from his bed, trying to control her shaking and repress the excitement that had snuck up on her. She refused to be attracted to the man. She was half way across the room when he caught her, turning her around in his grip to stare into her eyes, his own eyes an amazing shade of light grey.
“Your eyes change colour.” Kalika mumbled absently watching as they darkened, there corners crinkling in amusement.
“So do yours.” He replied smokily. The warmth of his hands on her back seared through her nightdress making her tremble.
“No they don’t.” Kalika refuted futilely, she felt herself losing the battle to remain calm. His mouth so close to her own breathed warm air over her face, sending a musky smell mixed with the scent of oranges she recognised as his personal scent.
“Yes they do.” He teased, his mouth slowly approaching her own. Her heart raced alarmingly, telling her to pull away, reminding her of the danger involved in their position. She managed to look away from his eyes, searching out the harem only to find the tent was empty. “They’re sapphire when your composed, jade when your losing control, and tinged with ruby when your gone.” She tried not to look at his eyes, and focused instead on the corner of his mouth as it continued to crinkle, as if suppressing the want to grin. “The others left early, there was a clothing caravan taken and they wanted to raid the stores.” He told her, acknowledging that he knew exactly what she had been thinking only the moment before.
She fought not to look in his eyes, the warmth that spread though her body from their contact made her all to aware of how willing all but her heart was to become his lover. And she knew as he stood there, lips so close they could kiss that he was not going to break their deal, but he wanted to. Knowing that confused her further and she managed to find hatred for him with that confusion.
“Let me go Seres.” She raised her hands, pressing them against his bare chest and pushed him back. He hardly resisted as his arms slipped away from her and she found herself immediately wanting to step up to him. His arms had offered a level of protection she had never had before.
“As you wish my lady.” His eyes where a faded grey, lacking the intensity they had held the moment before.
Bitting into her checks she turned from him her hands gripping to keep the warmth contact with his bare skin had drawn forth. Her body trembled with uncertainty and anger, she hated that he had this affect on her that she couldn’t think straight when he was there.
“Why are you still here?” His voice was calm but again his eyes held an intensity, though they where a dark grey now. Kalika hesitated, her back to him, not wanting to look at him, certain that he would see her indecision.
“Your right, I wanted to go riding today.” Kalika reached her bed picking up the folded clothing beside it. Jasaper. She recalled Iria’de’cen had called her horse and the Prophet had no reason to lie about a horses name.
“It’s raining.” Seres replied. She heard him sit on the edge of his bed, as much as she sensed it. He was not only in the room he was in her mind, edging his way into her awareness and she knew it was all her doing.
“And it will continue to rain until the end of the rain season, which if I’m correct is some time away. I will not forgo riding merely because it’s raining.” Kalika yanked the curtain to the harem’s sleeping area closed, aware that his eyes where still following her and wanting to change from her night dress. She worked quickly, despite hands that shock. She pulled on her black leather pants, and slipped the orange shirt over her head, wondering briefly where her token white shirt had gone. She took several breaths when she was dressed reminding herself to be calm and appear strong, then pulled the curtain open again.
His eyes where locked on her, as if he had never stopped watching her despite the curtain. She shuddered at the possibility that he had been watching, she still knew nothing of his magic.
“Allen will be here soon.” His voice was bland and she felt a strange guilt for that blandness. Again she bit down, her fingers going to twist the ring she still wore on her index finger. Yesterday, no last week he had died, last week Seres had killed someone she loved, and now she was fighting down emotions that had no right to exist. She tried to bring anger up for him, but she kept seeing the logic in the hanging. She hated it but there was logic, and in the same situation, if she ignored all emotional ties she had to Ivian she would have done the same thing. And that sickened her.
“Good.” She moved across the room and sat at the squat table where they ate meals. She reached for a pear and began eating pretending to pay attention to nothing but the fruit. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Seres who was making no attempt to hide he was watching her. The silence stretched, making only her uncomfortable, she guessed he was still waiting for a response to his earlier question, Why are you still here? She wanted to say it was because she couldn’t escape that the confines where to powerful, but she knew that was a lie. She hadn’t tried, and inside she knew the moment she wanted to be gone, she would be with nothing to stop her.
“Shouldn’t you be working?” She demanded and she saw the flicker of a smile on his face and hated herself, she had just acknowledged him again, but the silence was shattering the few nerves she had managed to keep stable.
“Perhaps I was too comfortable this morning to want to go anywhere.” He replied his voice deeper then usual. The tone was easily recognisable and it sent a shiver through her body. She enjoyed him trying to coax a reply out of her, although she did not like that her body was so willing to reply. She finished off the pear and dropped the core onto the table, someone would clean it one day, and she didn’t care just then.
She tried to think of a response to his words and found herself only able to think about where she had been when she had woken, and how she had gotten there. It took time but her mind finally handed her something to ask him.
“Why was the Prophet calling me?” She asked ready to face him with that question. She stood and turned around, wondering if she had to repeat it because he was taking his time to respond.
“Iria has an interest in you, Fire who Walks,” He frowned a little at the name.
“Well I heard what she called you White Light.” Kalika hissed in reply, she had seen his dislike to the name and from his little grimace she was glad she had pointed it out.
“No matter what she calls you, she has an interest in you.” Seres continued as if she hadn’t spoken.
“How do you know?” Kalika forgot her own inhibitions and stepped closer to him, there was still a large gap between them but it was getting smaller as the conversation continued.
“The day your caravan was attacked I was not on duty, I was inside the cave trying out a magical working. She sent me to the battle. Said I wanted to be there. And when a prophet tells you something like that, you don’t hesitate.”
“She knew I was there.” Kalika felt unease slip into her, to be so detectable was not something she wanted.
“She probably sensed the arrow, even at that distance.”
Her hand clenched involuntarily at the thought of the arrow. Yes the arrow emanated a power much like Iria’de’cen's, at least they had felt similar. It was highly likely that Iria’de’cen had felt it’s presence. There was a pause as if neither knew exactly what should be said next but that the moment wasn’t over. Kalika wondered at the pause, trying to think of something to say to smooth the conversation into non-existence but he began before she could form the words
“Why haven’t you run away yet?” Seres walked towards her and she didn’t even think to pull back, had he gotten to close instincts would have done it for her, but he stopped out of arm’s reach so the instincts let it be.
“Did you ever consider I wouldn’t leave without my arrow?” Kalika growled, hiding other emotions she did not want to believe existed. She was strangely excited by the confrontation that was happening between them.
“Your not going to find it you know.” Not even a question, his tone implied he knew very well that she wasn’t that stupid.
She jumped to the next possible excuse. “Did you ever think I was waiting for something? Waiting till I knew enough that I could go to the king in Skiara and produce your downfall with the information I could provide?” She wanted to make him tremble, parts of her where hanging for him to flinch to show a weakness.
He interrupted before she could continue though she had already formed a thousand lies as to why she remained. “Would the king even listen to you?” He teased, unaffected by her words.
“It doesn’t matter, it is my duty to attempt to help my kingdom in any way possible.” Came out of her mouth before she could stop it, though it was true it was still surprising she had said them.
“Such loyalty is rather inspiring.” He mocked his head titled ever so slightly to change his viewing angle of her.
“What would you know of loyalty?” She demanded hotly, not appreciating his scrutiny because she seemed to like it a little too much.
“What would you?” He refuted his voice a growl as he crossed his arms, his eyes skimmed her form for a second then looked back into his eyes.
“It’s my duty to protect my king.” She snapped fiercely at him, her eyes locked on his, her determination would not back down.
“And your prince?” His eyes darkened, there expression unreadable. She felt a trap but couldn’t distinguish what it was.
“And my prince.” She repeated with certainty, ignoring the warning signs in her body.
“And your princess?” His expression was still unreadable as he unfolded his arms, letting them rest at his side. Her heart rate increased with uncertainty.
“Always my princess.” She snapped again, her body on edge, waiting for the trap to be sprung, afraid that it already had.
“And your dukes?” He drawled carelessly, eyes dangerously dark. Her chest constricted at the reminder, her breath stopped as the memory of the gallows returned. “You didn’t do a very good job of that the other day.”
Her heart pounded in her ears as the memory played on loop in her mind. She could taste the hatred in her mouth, feel the rage coursing through her veins. She forced jagged breaths to remain stable as she seized his eyes with her own.
“If you-“ She stopped her voice ready to break, she needed to scream or cry but refused to give him any reaction he had been setting her up for. She drew in more air, her fists clenching and releasing as she desperately fought for control.
The second she had enough to trust her voice she began again. “If you ever mention the Duke of Botearal again-“ She breathed in a tight breath to maintain control “-I will slice you into a thousand pieces, sell your harem to a slave master, burn this army to ash and destroy every person, creature, and object you care about.” Kalika bit down on her words not only with anger but with promise.
Seres expression did not change, but she knew he heard the blinding truth in her words. She wondered if he thought she was capable of it, though it didn’t matter, she knew she was.
They stood there, the silence hardly broken by the rhythmic rain beating against the tent roof. He didn’t seem willing to respond or acknowledge her words. Then all at once his expression softened, his eyes returned to a mid grey and he wet his lips. Stunned by the sudden change she waited, letting the silence soak into her as she watched the uncertainty in his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” And there was no fear, only remorse in his voice.
“What for?” She wanted to look away but there was a degree of tenderness she had never see in his stormy grey eyes and it captivated her.
He hesitated again, the silence drawing between them. “I didn’t know you loved him.” His voice was weak with the words. Kalika stepped closer to him distractedly.
“Would it have made a difference?” Kalika’s voice was soft, the rage in her body suddenly replaced by concern. Concern for the sudden change in the man before her.
Seres broke eye contact, looking to the side at nothing in particular, a frown drawing on his brow. She was not breathing, she didn’t know how she wanted him to respond. She didn’t know if she wanted him to responds.
When he looked back she could see the honesty in his expression. “No.” The word was short, there was no room for indecision.
“Then what are you sorry for?” Kalika waited a step from him as he stared into her eyes. He was only a little taller then her, but it was enough at such proximity for her to have to tilt her head upwards.
“For hurting you.” The sincerity shocked her, even in the middle of their peculiar conversation. She saw the confusion in his eyes, and knew she mirrored it. His hand reached forwards, fingers lightly brushing her check sending shivers through her body. But nothing distracted her from his words. She felt lost, staring into him still, unable to look away, too afraid she would lose something. His finger travelled down her neck, thumb brushing against her ear lobe and paused but he too did not look from her eyes.
The fingers that captivated every one of her senses as they paused slid around to the back of her neck, then slowly up into her hair, travelling so slowly her nerves tangled, her heart rate increased and her mind crumbled into incoherent thoughts.
“I’m sorry for hurting you.” He repeated, the confusion still so obviously overpowering in his eyes.
A kiss would have been perfect at that moment, every part of her body told her so. The intimacy in the moment almost demanded it. That’s what the conversation was, a prelude to a kiss, a proper kiss, one that would change everything.
Her heart pounded in anticipation, sweat building on her hands. The touch of his tentative fingers gently threaded in her hair burnt into her awareness with blinding intensity. And his eyes, so fervent it was clear he wanted to.
She recalled the kiss on the gallows, searing away her sense of being and pulling her into a place that was beyond any Never-World she had, had described to her. Every part of her wanted to repeat the experience with him, almost.
She turned from him slowly, holding in tears. She wasn’t quite sure what the tears where for but one by one they broke through her control and when he extracted his fingers from her hair they poured out in a silent flood. Her mind tried to console her actions.
He has no right! He has no right. He has no right. I will not be his whore. I will not turn on my people. I will not forgive Ivian’s death. I will not let him do this to me. He has no right, to confuse me, to control me, make me feel so special and wrong at the same time. He has no right. I will not let him do this to me. I will not surrender to him. I will do as I am supposed to do, as my duty commands me to. I will not falter for anything.
She wanted to shout it all, scream her confusion out of existence, but she had seen his confusion and uncertainty and she found herself unwilling to injure him further. So instead she desperately tried to find an escape from his presence. Waking in his arms had thrown her, she needed to regain control, and in his presence control would not be found.
“I…” She paused thinking furiously, wondering what she could do and how she could escape. She tried to remember where they where but her mind would not acknowledge the tent around them, her mind was still fizzling to a halt. “I’ll wait outside for Allen.” Finally managed to escape her dishevelled mind and she left the tent as quickly as she could without running. Stepping into the pouring rain, glad for it’s soothing presence.
* * * * *
Kalika watched Allen over the rim of her cup, her mind was randomly picking through the scenes of that morning in a sardonic move to not allow her peace. Allen was keeping her strangely occupied, not with his company, though he seemed more conversational then usual, but with his obstinate presence and the problems he posed for her at that moment.
Outside of the large tent they sat in she could hear the rain, heavier then it had been earlier. But the sound was muffled over the loud shouts of the soldiers who where sprawled about the room at tables drinking ale. It had taken a lot of convincing to get Allen to allow them to enter what was effectively a pub, but she had her ways, and she was finding Allen easy to manipulate.
“The Silver Moon is soon.” Allen told her, and she remembered to drink her drink, looking casual. Lots of eyes where on her, that had been her only disappointment upon entering, and if she slipped in any way they would all notice it. Allen too seemed to notice the eyes on her, but he didn’t respond to them.
Kalika took another sip of her rice wine, the servers had managed to find a crate of it at her demand, apparently it wasn’t a popular drink in Seres countries. Allen drank the cup she had poured him uncertainly, it had a very distinct flavour which she had been told took a lot of getting used to, having been drinking it as long as she could remember she had never experienced dislike of the drink.
“Just what I need.” Kalika muttered to herself when the words soaked in. The last thing she needed in her present state of emotional uncertainty towards Seres, was to be forced into a celebration that was inspired by Shazi, the Goddess of Love, or as the barbarians who didn’t believe in love would have it, the Goddess of Desire. With closed eyes she felt for the moons presence, it would be full in less then three nights.
“The camp celebrates the Silver Moon at the moon’s zenith. There will be festivities all night.” Allen continued, and took a swig from the wine before him, cringing as it burnt down his throat. “I don’t think I can stomach any more of this.” He admitted and pushed the half full cup into the middle of the table. “And I don’t think you should be drinking it either.” He admitted, a look of apprehension clearly written on his face.
“You have hardly had half a glass, and I have hardly had two. I assure you I can function perfectly up to my tenth.” It wasn’t a lie, she had practiced a lot. There was no point having a resistance to most drugs if all they had to do was get you drunk. Allen watched her sceptically, and she fidgeted with the edge of her shirt under the table. He hadn’t made her change before she entered, it was safer if the average drunk didn’t realise she was a girl anyway. Besides she had refused upon multiple threats to return to the harems tent. She couldn’t risk another confrontation, yet, her mind was in too much of a haphazard state for it to be safe.
“Okay look.” She began hoping to sound heartfelt, it had taken too long to get him in there, she didn’t want to leave until her objective had been obtained. “I’ll go talk to the lovely serving lady fending off those soldier over there, and ask if she has anything calmer for you.” Kalika went to stand and he stopped her.
“I’m not thirsty, but you can drink as much as you like.” He told her smoothly.
She refrained from pulling a face at him, no matter how childish the action it was one of the response’s she always wanted to give to this man who reminded her so much of her brother. Instead she grumbled and slumped back into her chair considering her next move. She drew his glass to her and finished off his drink for him, and a tiny smile played on the edges of her lips as an idea came to her.
“So, what are you doing for the Silver Moon?” She asked casually digging her fingers into her pocket. They meet the soft velvet of the Oratig Crawler flowers she had picked during her ride on Jasaper prior to entering the pub.
“The usual.” He replied calmly giving her a frank look which puzzled her for a second. Then she realised what it was he usually did.
“I suppose that means Seres is going to drag us all to the celebrations.” She mumbled all the while crushing the flowers between her fingers into a fine paste. “So why doesn’t he give you the night off? It’s not like he wont be there.” She was not impressed with the reminder of Seres, but she needed to conversation to continue. It was difficult keeping her three conflicting states from being obvious. Her fingers continued to crush the little flowers, her mouth kept a pleasant conversation with Allen running, while her mind was back to repeating her morning, as if she could forget it.
“Because he has nine other women he has to keep his eye on, he can’t pay attention to you all the time.” It was a teasing statement that jarred her unexpectedly. She fought her breaths of uncertainty before they had been drawn and got control of herself despite her surprise at her own reaction. She wanted to fold her head into her hands and cry, she knew what the emotion was, she understood perfectly what the emotion coursing through her veins was and it unsettled her because she had never felt it with such intensity. “Jealous?” Allen teased, and she colour slid from her face.
Her sharp eyes locked on his, silently warning him to not say another word. For a second he stopped, surprised by the intensity of her expression then looked about the tent shakily. There was something in her expression that was beyond a warning and he did not want to stoke it into life.
She took the break of his concentration and drew her fingers out, twisting them around the rim of his glass as casually as she could. All the while staring at him for the slightest sign that he would turn back. The second she was certain the glass was lined she pushed it back into position.
“Sickened, maybe.” Kalika managed to sound casual, and he looked at her quickly, relieved for her change. “Another drink?” Kalika picked up the bottle beside her and poured her cup full, eyeing him carefully. He looked reluctant to accept.
“I really shouldn’t, besides that stuff it disgusting.” He eyed the bottle with a clear look of repulsion. Kalika poured his cup full anyway smiling secretively at him.
“In the beginning of time, before Human, Dragon, or Prophet.” She gave a little laugh at the mention before continuing. “There where the Great Ones. It is said they worshiped their king as a god. When the gods discovered this they challenged the self made deity to prove to his people where their prayers should lie.
“It was Acuda, the poison cup game. One chosen god sat before the King and both where given a goblet of wine. One was deathly, the other harmless. Both drank without hesitation, the eyes of all turned to the challenge.” Kalika gave a little laugh at the interested expression in Allen’s eyes, he had obviously not heard it before. “The king died of course, and the gods where worshiped until the Great One’s ceased to be.” Another glance told her he was confused by her words, she decided to fix that. “It is said the king had no choice but to accept the challenge, had he refused his people would know he was mortal and afraid.” Kalika pushed the cup towards Allen, and raised her glass. He looked at it apprehensively and she laughed setting her cup down again. “It’s just a drink it’s not going to kill you.” Kalika teased, he looked at her sceptically for a moment.
“Then why tell me that story?” He enquired, though she noted he drew the glass over to him as he spoke.
“It is said among my people, that if a man does not drink the cup set before him he is a coward. The Great One’s King may not have been immortal, but he had courage, he knew he would die, yet he still drank.” She measured his response as she picked her cup up once more.
“So your calling me a coward?” He was mildly amused by the effort she was going to, to make him drink.
“If you do not drink.” She retorted and raised her cup to her lips. She paused only for a second before draining the cup completely. He raised an eyebrow and she smirked at the fingers curled around his own cup. “Come coward, I wish to return to my tent.” She went to stand waiting for him to call a bluff he had no idea was being pulled. He caught her arm again and stopped her shaking his head a little.
“You are a strange girl.” He told her calmly and realising her arm brought the drink to his lips. Kalika concentrated on him as he drank the cup, watching his lips as they brushed the glass rim, and sighed when he put the cup back down. He blanched for a second from the strength of the drink finding his belly, not she knew, from the poison.
“From you, I’ll take that as a compliment.” She shrugged off the idea of being strange, she really didn’t mind. Instead she searched for a door, they needed to leave the crowd quickly. She began without him for the nearest door, he had to follow her, that much she was painfully aware off.
“You do know your tent is the other direction?” He asked her suspiciously. She didn’t lose her way, ever. Kalika flashed him a smile to put him at ease but it appeared to do the opposite.
“I want to talk to Jasaper for a few more minutes.” She replied casually and continued her walk. Inside the tent had been dry and warm from the makeshift fires about the room. Outside her shirt was immediately drenched clinging to her body as the water pelted down. She wondered if there would be lightning and thunder but doubted it, the rain was too constant for such intensity.
“Where did you get it’s name?” He asked conversationally as he followed a step behind her.
“A dream.” Kalika murmured having to lie, certain Iria’de’cen’s existence would probably surprise anyone in the camp.
“Is that how your people name horses?” He teased once more.
“That, my guardian, is a much longer story you probably don’t really want to know.” Kalika reached the edge of the horse yards and softly called out the horses name. Immediately it was before he.
“It seems to like the name.” Allen murmured softly. She shoot him a little glance to find he was using the railing for support. She bit into her lip and looked away, reminding herself it was not a painful drug, but still feeling a little guilty.
“Another thing of my people, it is it’s true name, Jasaper will respond to it whenever it is called.” Kalika rubbed the horses nose affectionately.
“What if someone else call’s Jasaper?” Allen rubbed his eye with a balled fist slumping further into the railing, his voice was beginning to slur.
“It will know.” Kalika told him certainly, she didn’t feel like explaining something as complicated as that to a man who would hardly remember the conversation.
“We should get you back.” He told her in a weak voice, she glanced at him but nodded and pushing Jasaper’s head a little from her, jumped to the ground. She had only taken one step before she heard the sound of him collapsing. She didn’t turn at the noise, instead she tilted her head to watch the clouds overhead giving time for him to slip completely into unconsciousness.
She wished it wasn’t necessary to resort to such measures but she had resolved to speak with the prophet and speak to her alone.
“You okay?” Kalika asked after a long pause, she turned around and found him sprawled on the ground. Slowly, she made sure he was alive. She felt his pulse and checked his breathing, then sat back on her heels looking at Jasaper. “That was easy.” She breathed to the horse. Mindlessly she went to rub her eye, remembered the drug, and yanked it back scolding her own stupidity. Quickly she found a puddle on the ground and washed the residue of the flower off, reminding herself that she needed to wash the hand properly latter, it was still untrustworthy.
Then carefully she dragged his body into the deeper shadows of night, tucking him out of the regular passer’s view.
“Sorry.” She whispered but it wasn’t for the action it was for the necessity of it. Then as quickly as she could she disappeared into the forest, with a silent order to Jasaper to keep an eye on Allen.
* * * * *
She arrived at the Prophets cave effortlessly, although she was extremely cold by the time she slipped past the spell. She only slightly registered the oddity of her being able to recognise the spot immediately, but did take note that now she was aware of the spells existence the cliff face seemed different, although she couldn’t explain why.
She slipped through the spell knowing if it gave off warnings about intruders it would have done so upon her first visit, it had seemed then Seres had not noticed her until he was looking for her. Her feet paused, her entire body frozen at that one little thought. He had known exactly where she was the moment he had turned his attention to it, he hadn’t needed to chant spells, or cast incantations, she hadn’t sensed the presence of magic but he had known. It was frighteningly scary that he could find her at any moment that he wanted to. Like now, as she was invading his territory, such an ability could prove disastrous to her.
With that last little thought she jumped into movement, the longer she lingered out of bounds the more chance that he would discover it.
She quietly stalked through the caverns she had passed on her first visit, her ears alert for sounds of life so she could hide quickly. Nothing came, she wasn’t sure why but she let it pass, finding Iria’de’cen’s door open she walked in.
Again she stopped as her eyes locked once more with those large violet eyes.
“When you return your guard will not yet be awake.” Iria’de’cen’s voice wrapped around Kalika like magic, flooding into her veins and calming her nerves. The words themselves where almost overlooked.
“You where expecting me?” Kalika asked dubious although she knew she shouldn’t have been. It was hard to adjust however to talking with a prophet. For a moment she forgot why she was there, slowly approaching the ice wall.
“Let me show you the gift of perception.” Iria’de’cen bubbled as she pressed her face against the barrier. Kalika followed suit, pressing her nose against the ice opposite Iria’de'cen's.
“Why?” Kalika’s breath misted against the ice, her nose cold from the contact. The corners of Iria’de’cen’s eyes crinkled as tiny bubbles travelling up the smooth lines of her face and reached for the surface of her enclosure.
“Would you refuse the ability to perceive?” The blue skinned creature tilted it’s head for a second withdrawing it’s pressed nose from the ice.
“Aren’t I here to talk?” Kalika asked turning the conversation where she needed it to be.
“I just said you wanted to talk to me, I didn’t say that was what would happen.” Iria’de’cen’s mirth filled voice made Kalika frown with uncertainty, this was not what she had been expecting.
“I need to know.” Kalika begged the prophet, staring earnestly into her eyes.
Iria’de’cen’s cheerful expression fell as she returned the gaze. “What do you need to know?” Her voice was suddenly not that of an anxious and excitable child it was that of an ancient creature surrendering to the inevitable.
“Why am I here?” Kalika demanded, tears suddenly threatening to fall. She hated her emotions, they way they drove her in fifty different directions but never taking her anywhere. It had been easy in Allen’s presence, she had formed her plan, and nothing could stop her from reaching the prophet, but from this point she had no direction. She had no idea which way to turn, how to respond to what was happening within her.
The prophet’s eyes shifting from their violet colour to a light blue as she watched Kalika silently. Kalika waited hopefully for only a few second before she felt her insides crumbling that little bit. Bitterness overwhelmed her at the prophets silence.
“Why am I here?” She shouted striking the ice wall, not even noticing her actions. “It was supposed to protect me!” She turned her back sharply from the sympathetic look Iria’de’cen had turned to her. “It always did before! Why now? Why here? Did I do something wrong?” She lent her back against the ice and slid to the floor, fighting to hold the tears in. Confusion was not a state of mind she was used to, nor was it a state she enjoyed being in. Right now she wanted to think on anything but Seres and her arrow was the only thing that captivated her thoughts as much as he did. “It was supposed to protect me.” She whispered again, praying for the prophet to give her an answer, to put sense to the turmoil her life had being thrown into when she had been captured.
“Who says it didn’t?” Iria’de’cen asked quietly. Kalika stopped, her body freezing at the words, her mind no longer having to push thoughts of Seres away because the words captivated her attention so completely nothing could draw her away from them.
“What?” Kalika turned around slowly, unable to truly understand the words because they went so against her thoughts.
“Who is to say that the path you where travelling did not hold more danger?” Iria’de’cen asked, her eyes still that luminescent blue.
“What danger could my family present to me?” Kalika demanded through gritted teeth. She couldn’t explain exactly why but Iria’de’cen’s words felt insulting. Iria’de’cen shook her head quickly to stop Kalika.
“No. What if, in two days you set camp. And being a stubborn and curious creature you wondered away from your guards. What if someone, or several someone’s attacked you, and killed you.” Iria’de’cen wasn’t looking at her, she was looking to the side of her prison not registering anything beyond her own thoughts.
“Is that true?”
“I do not know. I ask what if. How do you know it didn’t save you from a fate worse then what you have lived?”
“Wouldn’t you know? Had I gotten away, had I escaped what would have happened?” Kalika turned on her knees to stare into Iria’de’cen’s giant eyes.
“I do not know.”
“Why not?” Kalika demanded sharply, angry that the creature wouldn’t give the answers her insides craved.
“I see the future, and I remember the past. I know nothing of possibilities.” The prophets eyes shifted back to their violet colour as they turned to Kalika an expression Kalika couldn’t read visible.
“Is the future set then?” Kalika demanded, feeling anger at the idea of her entire existence being unchangeable no matter what she did.
“Yes.” Iria’de’cen replied calmly.
“What’s going to happen to me?” Kalika begged from her seat on the ground. Unconsciously she had raised her right hand and was resting it on the ice her forehead pressed in close so that her eyes could see through the crackled ice and meet Iria’de’cen’s.
“I do not know.” There was a strange quality to Iria’de’cen’s voice but it was ignored in the wake of her words.
“But the future is set!” Kalika debated angry again. Her emotions where too scattered for her to be able to calm down.
“The future is set. But not even the prophets know everything. There are times, moments that are too great for us to perceive what will happen beyond.” Iria’de’cen paused and breathed out a cluster of bubbles. The possibility of a Prophet being anything but infallible jarred at Kalika’s nerves, it felt like being told that gods where merely mortals. “What will happen to you? The things I know I will not tell. The things I don’t know I wish I did. All I can say that you need to know was that the arrow did what had to be done, what ever it’s reasoning was.” Iria’de’cen twisted around on the spot, her eyes shifting back to blue.
“I should leave, before Allen wakes.” Kalika whispered as she forced herself to stand, brushing the dirt of her pant legs. She didn’t even look at Iria’de’cen, she didn’t show the prophet that she was disappointed. But then she knew she had nothing to be disappointed about, but she had put the hopes of her sanity on this creature. Slowly she went to exit.
“Kalika de’Leriarge.” Iria’de’cen called across the room softly. Kalika’s back straightened with shock to scared to turn around. “Mourn his loss now, don’t hold it in forever. You will lose so much more if you don’t let them see, there is more then one kind of love.” Kalika’s head hung at the words. Of course the prophet knew, she couldn’t know what Kalika wanted to know, but she had to know one of the few things she wanted to keep to herself.
“They can’t know.” Kalika whispered in response, small tears slipping unnoticed from her eyes.
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Property of Kimra Lelanst, do not duplicate without consent. |
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