Emerging from Exile: The Listra Chronicles, Book 1

Chapter 22 – Memento

Amora stood next to her former marital bed scowling at it, remembering all the times her disgusting husband took her in it, had his way with her as was his right by the laws of Vaylen.

It had never felt right to her.

“Are you okay?” Zel asked from where he stood at the end of the bed. “My apologies… if you feel pity from me, I mean. It’s not my intention. I just… seeing this village, I know you’ve been through so much and I, I haven’t been very considerate. I hope you can forgive me. Warriors are not taught…”

“There’s no need for forgiveness,” she said interrupting him. He was trying so hard it was touching. “You’ve done so much for me, Zel. You don’t even realize.”

“But everything you’ve been through. I wish… I don’t know, that I could have found you sooner that day.”

“I do too.” She looked back toward the bed again. “But you would have had to have found me long before that day, before father sold me. That was worse than anything else, worse than what my husband did to me and worse than what those bandit men did.”

Zel’s eyes grew wide. “Your father sold you?”

“He did.” She shook her head. “And the betrayal of it...” Her eyes welled. “I mean, father wasn’t the best man in the world. He was always plowing other women, whores mostly, and mother knew it. Everyone knew it. But he never treated me poorly and I thought…” Her voice cracked. “I thought he loved me.” She took a deep breath. “Until I came home one day only a month after mother passed and discovered he’d sold me to an Orman more than three times my age.”

Zel came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. She turned into his chest, wrapped her arms around him, and felt the emotion surface. Maybe it was that he was giving her support now or maybe it was what they shared the other night, whatever it was, it was her turn now, her turn to face all that had happened to her. And not just her father’s betrayal, though that was the most painful piece of it, but all of it: the beatings and abuse that followed, the loss of the baby, what the bandits had done to her. She hadn’t cried since her mother passed. Those years of pain and suffering came flowing from her now. And Zel held her, soothed her, and kept her feeling safe for the duration. After quite some time, she pulled away from him, wiped her eyes and asked, “Do you think less of me now?”

“Of course not,” he said looking aghast.

“Well now, do you see how stupid it would be for me to think less of you for doing the same?”

His face softened. He drew her into his arms again and hugged her. “You know, you’re far too smart for a girl your age.” He gave her a peck on the head and released her.

“I know,” she said smiling though her eyes were still red and just a little watery.

“Don’t let it go to your head. You’re still a pain in the ass.”

“I know that too,” she said, “but so are you.”

He shrugged. “Fair point.”

She paused, felt like something was coming to her, but it escaped her as fast as it came.

“What? You had that look you get when you just know something. What is it?”

“I don’t know. It came and went before I could grab hold of it.” She shook her head. “Ugh. All these years and I still don’t know how it works, how to get the information I need or want.” She sat on the bed.

 “Sounds frustrating.” He sat next to her.

“That’s one word for it.” She frowned. “And it’s hardly ever helpful. And it made me an outcast. Stupid ability pretty much ruined my life.”

“I remember you telling me when you were a child that the other kids didn’t like you.”

“Yeah, I made the mistake of letting them know about it when I was little and ended up hated for it. Word spread and their hate stuck. I was shunned in my own village.”

“I imagine that was difficult.”

“It was, but I don’t suppose it was much different than your life’s been for years.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lonely.”

“I haven’t been lonely.”

She looked at him pointedly.

“Oh…” He looked away. “Right.”  

She felt his embarrassment, knew she wounded him, realized that was something he didn’t want her to know, probably something he hadn’t even admitted to himself. “I’m sorry.” She kicked herself internally. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

He didn’t respond but, rather, seemed lost in thought. Finally, he said, “You know, I’ve been wanting to ask you… do you read my mind? Know my thoughts?”

She chuckled softly. “No. It’s not that I know what you’re thinking. It’s that I can sense your emotions, especially anytime you feel strongly about anything. But sometimes it’s so strong it feels like they’re my emotions and I have to remind myself they’re not. Sometimes it’s so strong that it will make me queasy or make my heart race depending on what you’re feeling at the time. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before and it only happens with you.”

“Do you mean to tell me that you felt my grief over Peela?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“And all the… everything from the other night…”

“All of it.” She saw the recognition of exactly what that meant on his face.

“Oh no. Gods, no. I’m so sorry, girl. I’m so very sorry.”

“Please, don’t be.” She put her hand over his. “I was happy to be there for you the other night. Truly.”

“And this only happens with me?”

“Only with you.”

He shook his head, perplexed.

“Crazy, huh?” she said.

“You think it has something to do with the spell?”

“Maybe. It started after my time at Delphine’s.

“Really?”

“Mmm hmm. The first time was after you found out I was coming on the hunt with you, in the bailey of Veyforge’s castle, when you were really furious with me. I told you I was crying because you were yelling at me. But that wasn’t true.” She chuckled. “It takes a bit more than a man ‘yelling’ through clenched teeth for me to cry. No, I cried because of your emotions, what I could sense, it was the first time and you were so angry, it was overwhelming. I didn’t know what to do with it and so it came out as tears.”

“Oh Amora, I’m so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. Please. I’m not sorry. Not anymore.”

“What do you mean not anymore?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s become… oddly comforting.”

“Comforting? Girl, I know what goes on inside me. It’s anything but comforting.”

“No, I know.”

He shot her a disapproving look.

“What? Did you think I was going to disagree? You’re a bloody mess, Zel. There’s no doubt about that. But the other night in that cell, I couldn’t feel anything from you for hours and hours and I went crazy. It was awful. I can’t tell you how good it’s been to sense your emotions again after that.”

He scrunched his face in displeasure and growled his wolf’s growl in a low, steady rumble.

“You know that doesn’t scare me at all, right?”

He stopped growling, shrugged, and smiled. “I know. But you’re the first person I’ve been able to do that around in forever.”

“So, you’re telling me you just like to flex your growling muscle because it’s fun?”

“Something like that.” He grinned. “Just wait until I get my jaguar’s roar. Then you’ll really be in for it.” He stood and held his hand out to her. “Okay, girl, whether I scare you or not, we need to find whatever it is you came here for so we can get back on the road to Thalaria.”

“Right. But first,” She took his hand, held it tightly and said, “thank you for that just now, for being here for me.”

“Anytime. I mean that.”

She squeezed his hand. “Me too for you.”

He squeezed back. “I know.” He helped her to her feet.

She asked him to lift a couple of the floorboards next to the bed. He complied. Beneath was a plain, wooden box. He picked it up and handed it to her. She placed it on the bed, opened it and pulled out a small blanket and hugged it to her chest. “Yes! I knew it would still be here.”

She only hugged it for a couple of seconds before Zel asked, “May I have a look at that?”

“Of course.” She handed it to him.

The blanket was a deep indigo and adorned in gold markings. He looked at it, studied the weave. “Where did you get this?”

“It was my baby blanket. Why?”

“This was your baby blanket, Amora? Are you certain?”

“Of course. Look at this.” She flipped an edge of the blanket over to show him writing sewn into it in gold lettering. “See. It says my name. Mother said it was a gift from her midwife when I was born.”

He sat on the bed with a plop. “And where were you born?”

“Here in Lurran, of course. Where else?”

He looked away, didn’t answer.

“What? What is it?” she asked.

It took him a moment before he could form the words. “I found a baby, Amora. Years ago, I found a baby… wrapped in this blanket.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I assure you, it’s more than possible.”

“You’re sure? You’re absolutely sure it was this blanket?”

“Positive. I couldn’t possibly be more positive. I remember it distinctly. Each Myaran pattern is unique. Plus, the material is woven from Listranian silks. That’s something I always notice.”

“Do you remember my name on it?”

“No, but the babe had squirmed its way out of the blanket by the time I’d found her. I remember picking her up, then picking up the blanket and wrapping her in it. In doing that, I could have easily reversed it without realizing. But I know the pattern, the weave. It stuck with me. I’m positive this was the blanket.”

“And when did you find this babe? Where?”

“It was quite a few years ago now, well over a decade, maybe even two.” He paused to recall the memory. “It was in a small village, or what used to be a small village. I came upon it that day intending to spend the night at its inn, but it was decimated. Everything had been blown to bits from the center on out: houses, trees, the inn, everything completely blown over.

“But there was this one small house with a few trees and flowers around it that was still standing, left entirely unscathed. It was completely illogical. There was no good reason for it to have remained through whatever happened there. I stood before it contemplating the bizarreness of its existence until I thought I heard noises coming from inside. I went to investigate and found a baby, a baby wrapped in this blanket.”

Amora suddenly felt like she, too, needed to sit. She joined him on the bed. “What do you think this means? And what did you mean Myaran pattern?”

“This blanket was made by a Myara. See these designs here?” He pointed to the swirls woven into the blanket. “These are spell weaves. I don’t know how they work, but I know patterns like this always have spells woven into them, most often protection spells from what I understand.” He paused, then said, “We need to scout the place where I found the baby.”

“Wait.” She put a hand on his arm. “Before we go anywhere, what did you do with the baby when you found it?”

“I brought it to my whorehouse in Veyforge,” he said easily as though that would be the most natural and obvious course of action.

“Seriously, Zel? You took a baby to a whorehouse?”

He shrugged. “The only females I know are whores and what do I know of babies?”

She rolled her eyes. “Gods help us, but please continue. What happened at the whorehouse?”

“One of the females had a regular client, a man whose woman wanted a baby girl. They’d tried for years, but were never able to make a girl, so it was a good match. The babe was given to them.”

“Do you know where that couple lived?”

“I don’t. It couldn’t have been far from Veyforge though since the whore who recommended them said the man was a regular client.”

“Gods,” Amora said looking up, shaking her head. “Father used to plow whores in Veyforge all the time. Truth be told, he probably sold me so he could have coin to plow whores.”

Zel wrinkled his brow. “And I was the one who gave you to them.”

“No, no. Don’t you start feeling guilty about this now too. Even if it was me, and we don’t know that it was, but even if it was, you had no way of knowing. You found a baby and you found a home for that baby. Most would have left the babe to die. You chose to save its life, so don’t blame yourself for doing the right thing.”

“But what if I was at fault for your upbringing, for what happened to you?”

“If you were at fault for anything, it was for saving my life.”

He shook his head. “You’d really feel that way? Even if it was you?”

“Absolutely.”

“You wouldn’t blame me for all that happened?”

“Of course not. What could you have done differently? You found a baby. What better thing can one do than find a home for it?”

“I guess you’re right. I just…” He looked down. “I feel like all the females I try to take care of, like they all get hurt or die because of me.”

“Zel…”

“Please,” he met her eyes, “let me finish.”

She waited.

“I feel that way,” he looked at his hands, “but I’ve been thinking… a lot… and…” He fidgeted, rubbed the knuckles of one hand with the fingers of the other. She gave him the time he needed. He kept his head down when he said, “I want… I want to keep you with me. I want to give you what you want, to teach you.”

A part of her felt like squealing with delight, yet his tone didn’t seem to warrant delight. “But?”

He met her eyes again. “What if I get you killed? What if Osmet finds out about your association with me?”

“He won’t... But even if he does, I know I’m safe with you, Zel. I know it. With every fiber of my being, I know it. You don’t have to worry about not being able to protect me. You have and you will. I’m sure of it.” She could feel his fear for her and wished she could alleviate it.

“And what if I’m just being selfish? What if I’m risking you out of my own selfishness?”

“How are you being selfish?” Her brow furrowed.

“I say I want to give you want you want, to teach you, but what if it’s just because…” He looked down at his hands. “What if it’s because I don’t want to be lonely anymore?” he said softly.

She put a hand to his cheek, gently coaxing him to meet her eyes. “And what if I don’t want to be lonely anymore either?”

They lingered for a second looking at one another before she snaked her arm around him and buried her head in his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. They stayed there for a moment before he said, “Let’s see if we can learn more about where you came from, eh?”

She looked up. “You really think that baby was me? That my parents weren’t my parents?”

“It would make sense. Your abilities… I’ve never known an Orman to have any such abilities. But a Myara… it’s not common, but I know some Myara have abilities of foresight.”

“Still. That seems such an impossible thought to me.”

“Well, let’s see if we can find out if it’s impossible or not.”

Zel had a vague recollection of where he found the baby, enough to get them to the general vicinity, but not enough to pinpoint the location, especially with all the changes the land experienced over the years. Eventually, they approached a fork in the path.

“We need to go right,” Amora said. Zel didn’t question her, just went right as she’d suggested. From there, Amora led them straight to the house.

“One of those things you just knew?” he asked.

“No, actually. I used to go out searching with our village alchemist. We’d go looking all around for ingredients for his potions and elixirs. I’ve been here before, with him.”

“You’ve mentioned him several times. He was significant to you?”

“Besides my parents, he was the only one in the village who would speak to me. And he taught me. In exchange, I did things for him, things like help him search for ingredients.”

“I’ve noticed you speak well, more proper than most villagers.”

“And I can read because of him. He taught me some healing too, not magic, but how to recognize different elixirs and even how to mix some of them, how to treat wounds, and how to stitch.”

“That’s why you were able to take care of Buzan and I.”

“Exactly, though I’m not very good.”

“You did wonderfully. You saved my life.”

“You saved mine first. Seems it was the least I could do.” She smiled.

He smiled back. “Come on. Let’s check out this house and see what we can find.”

Chapter 23 – The Ritual

Zel and Amora approached the tiny, dilapidated single room shack with its gray and weathered timber beams. Leaves and vines encroached up and over its walls to what remained of the shack’s roof in their slow and steady effort to swallow it in their grip. Zel cut through several of the thick, creeping plants to gain access.

Nature was gradually making its way inside too with vines and branches snaking in through every crack and crevice. A table large enough to accommodate six chairs occupied most of the space though only two chairs remained. A lonely bed frame sat opposite the fireplace; and a few shelves holding containers of stale spices adorned what appeared to have once been a kitchen area.

“Not much here,” Zel said.

“Not at all. What did it look like when you found the baby?”

“It was sparse then too. I didn’t see anything of value though there was bedding on the frame back then.”

“Let me guess, you slept in it?”

“I’d been traveling for many hours and was weary,” he said in defense.

Amora rolled her eyes. “What did you do with the baby while you slept, hmm?”

“I held her in my arms. She quieted when I held her.” The corners of his mouth turned up. “I think she liked me.”

Amora couldn’t help but be surprised, maybe even impressed.

“So, do you sense anything?” he asked. “Are you getting any… I don’t know what you usually get. Are they visions?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes it’s a feeling or a piece of knowledge that comes to me. Right now, I’m not getting anything.”

“There must be some clue here somewhere. I’m going to look outside.”

After a few additional minutes scouring the interior and finding nothing of interest, Amora followed him. As soon as the door closed behind her, she got a feeling. “There’s something…”  She walked around the side of the house, then to the back. Zel trailed her until she stopped in an open space between a few hemlocks, the only mature trees in the vicinity. Other than the fact that they appeared to be the only trees to have survived the village’s destruction, nothing seemed to be amiss. “There’s something here, near here. Somewhere. I’m sure of it,” she said.

Zel didn’t respond, just began searching. She walked forward and tripped, looked down and saw an old, partially rotted piece of wood. There was something carved into it, something that looked like part of a letter. She brushed some needles and twigs aside. “Um, Zel.”

He looked to her. She cast her eyes down and he followed her gaze. The rotting grave marker bore Fogard’s name.

Zel dropped to his knees. “Oh no,” he said softly.

She could sense his sorrow. “I’m so very sorry.”

He put his hand to the ground and lowered his head. Amora remained silent to give him the time he needed to pray to his Gods. After a few moments, he said, “I can’t believe it. After all these years. I suspected he might be gone, but…”

“I know you two were close.”

“We were.” He moved more twigs away. There were a few missing and illegible letters, but enough remained that the inscription could be read without any misunderstanding.

Here Lies Fogard of Listrand
Beloved Prium
Devoted Father
And Proud Listra Warrior
7065 - 7130

His mouth dropped open. His eyes widened.

“What? What is it? What’s a prium?”

No response.

“Zel?” she prodded.

He was still staring at the grave marker. She looked back down at it herself and noticed something she hadn’t seen before, something greenish. “Zel, can you see that?”

No response.

“Zel?” She snapped her fingers in front of his face. He looked at her. “Can you see that?”

“See what?”

“The greenish-blue writing?”

“Where?”

“Right here,” she pointed below the carved lettering, “on the maker.”

“I see nothing there. What do you see?”

“It says my name.”

His brow furrowed. “Your name?”

“Yes, and it says to dig and has an arrow.”

“An arrow? Pointing where?”

“Up. Beyond the grave marker, I guess.”

Zel stood. There was only about six feet from the grave marker to the first hemlock. He walked to it, moved the needles and twigs in front of it aside with his foot then examined the ground. He chose a dip between two of its roots, knelt, shifted his hands into his wolf’s paws and started digging.

“What do you think it means?” Amora asked.

Zel kept digging.

“Zel, answer me. Do you have any idea?”

“I do, girl, but I can’t tell you, not without being certain.” He hit something hard and dug faster until he uncovered a small wooden box. Once he unearthed enough of it, he shifted from his wolf’s paws back to his hands and pulled it out. He and Amora knelt, each on one side. He put his hand on the box on his side then looked at her. “I think we’re in this together, girl.” She put her hand on the other side. He nodded and they opened it. It contained two letters, one with Zelstrason written on it, one with the name Amora.

“Do you know what this means? What these are?” she asked.

“I think I might. At least, I have an idea.”

“What?”

“I’d rather not say, in case I’m wrong.”

“Then you go first. I’m too nervous.”

“Okay.” He moved, sat with his back against the tree and opened the letter bearing his name. His hands were trembling ever so slightly.

Zelstrason, my dearest friend, my warrior brother, my Commander, I write you on this, the most joyous day of my life, the day of my daughter’s birth. I know you’ll be filled with joy as well as she is the first of her kind; half Listra, half Myara. It turns out Ankara and I made the breakthrough after all - and with a girl too. Arganna blessed us with the greatest of all gifts. Can you believe it? I can barely believe it myself.

But for all the good news, I also write with a heavy heart. The hunt is not yet over and, for reasons too complex to outline here, I expect I’ll be dead before it concludes.

Ankara has convinced me to conduct a Keeper ceremony – without a Temple of Arganna and with no Keeper present to complete the ritual. I know you might think me mad for even considering such a prospect. But looking into my daughter’s eyes has changed everything for me. If there’s any chance naming a Keeper might protect her, I can’t do anything but take it.

I wish I could tell you what it feels like, my friend, what it feels like to hold your baby girl in your arms. It’s indescribable. Nothing else matters now. Not Listrand. Not anything else. She is my priority, the most important thing in the world. So, I hope you’ll understand why I have no other option, why I must choose the most capable, most formidable warrior I know to protect that which is most precious to me.

And I know it’s against our laws to name a Commander, especially a First Commander, Keeper. But when we were in Thalaria just a few short months ago, you told me you were all done with Listrand. I can only hope that holds true as I’ve already said the words aloud, over my daughter with the Trinity in hand. Please know that everything in me wishes I had knelt before you, wishes I were kneeling before you now, making this the formal request it should be. But since that’s not possible, I hold the Trinity once again as I write these words to you now:

Zelstrason, former Ace Warrior and First Commander of Listrand, I seek to name you Keeper of my daughter, Amora. I call on you to protect her with your life, to keep her safe from all harm, and to serve as her father should I perish. I ask that you accept this, the greatest of all responsibilities, my friend, my brother. May the Trinity bless and keep you both.

I realize by completing my half of the ceremony without you that I’ve bound my daughter to you without your consent – and I’m sure you’ve noticed I modified the ritual. It’s overstepping, even considering the closeness of our friendship. I hope you can forgive me.

With love, respect, and eternal gratitude,
Your friend and brother,
Fogard

A single tear streamed down Zel’s face. Amora moved to sit next to him and he handed her the letter. She read it and her mouth dropped open, then she read it again and still didn’t know how to process it. Zel held out his hand open palmed between the two of them. She put her hand in his and they stayed sitting like that, hand in hand, next to one another against the tree for a long while.

“Gods,” Amora finally said, “your friend, Fogard, was my father?”

“Mmm hmm.”

She sat up holding the letter out in front of her. “And this is really about me?... And you?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“And I’m a Listra... and a Myara… And my parents that I thought were my parents my whole life really weren’t?”

“Uh huh.”

“Holy shit.” She sat back against the tree.

“I’d say that sums it up.”

“It actually makes so much sense though.” She turned to him. “You know I’ve never needed all that much sleep. I used to sleep extra hours because everyone else did, not because I needed to.”

“No wonder you’re often awake earlier than I expect.”

“And my skin color… both my parents, the ones I grew up with, were white. I’m not as dark as you, but I’m more tan than white.”

“Your mother was white skinned. Your father was the same brown color I am.” He stared at her.

“What?”

“You have her eyes. I can’t believe I never noticed before. Hazel eyes with those little flecks in them just like hers, exactly like hers.”

“So, you can see her in me?”

“I can.”

“Wow. Did she have this crazy ability that I have too?”

“I don’t know. I know she had glamour magic and hydromancy. She was formally trained at the Nexis. Do you know what that means?”

“They’re the most powerful Myara in all the lands, aren’t they?”

“They are. And Fogard was an Ace Listra Warrior. That means he was one of our best, part of our elite forces. To say you come from impressive parents would be quite an understatement.”

“Wow,” Amora said again, this time softly drawing out the word.

“And Fogard,” Zel continued, “what a great man your father was, girl. He was a beast on the battlefield, a man I’d want guarding my back any day. But off the battlefield, you’d never know he was a warrior. He was one of those men everyone loved… easy to get along with, child-like in all the right ways.”

She could sense his grief and squeezed his hand. He squeezed back.

“I’m so sorry you lost your friend.”

He met her eyes. “I’m sorry you lost your father.” He turned toward the box that still held her letter and gestured with his chin. “We have another… yours. Are you ready for it?”

“I’m nervous.”

“I know. But I’m here with you.”

She nodded and the corner of her mouth turned up just a touch. She handed him the letter from Fogard and moved to get hers. “The writing is different. Do you think it’s from my real mother?”

“I do.”

“What was she called? It was in Fogard’s letter, but…”

“She was called Ankara.”

“Ankara.” She tested it out on her tongue. “My mother was called Ankara. And she was a formally trained Myara.”

“Mmm hmm.”

“And my father was like you, a warrior like you, a Listra like you.”

“He was.”

The tears not only snuck up on her but burst forth rather uncontrollably.

Zel’s face screwed up into a look of confusion. “It’s okay, girl. Why are you crying?”

“It is okay,” she said through her sobs. “It’s better than okay.” She wiped her eyes. “It’s… amazing.”

“Oh… These are happy tears?”

“Yes, Zel. Gods, yes. I’m so sorry. I feel so bad for you because you just found out you lost your friend, but I’m so happy I don’t know what to do with myself.” The tears kept coming. “I realize it doesn’t look like it right now, but this might be the best day of my life.” She wiped her cheeks then sniffled. “I just found out I had amazing parents, I mean, really amazing parents. If you knew the mother and father I grew up with… well, let’s just say this is a major improvement.”

“You just greatly improved your lifespan as well, girl.”

She wiped her cheeks again. “Gods, that’s true. Don’t both Myara and Listra live to two hundred years or more?”

“Myara typically live at least two hundred years and it’s not at all uncommon to see Listra live up to three hundred years, and some even longer.”

“Wow.” She sat back against the tree. “This is so much to take in. And this,” she held the letter out in front of her, “this is a piece of my real mother, my real mother, Zel.”

“I know.” He smiled.

“And that,” she gestured to the letter in his hand, “that was my real father.”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Did you hear the way he talked about me?” She got on her knees and faced him. “Like I was the most precious thing in the whole world?” She spread her arms. “That’s how my real father felt about me. He would have never sold me. Never!” Tears started streaming down her face again.

“Amora, my girl, I’m having a hard time keeping up. Are these good tears or bad tears?”

“They’re good,” she said through sobs. “Knowing that I had a father who loved me, really loved me, that he would never have sold me.” She’d never felt such joy, yet she couldn’t stop crying. “I’m… I’m sorry I’m…  I’m such a mess.” She could barely get the words out.

 “Don’t be, girl. Most anyone would be in this situation.”

She felt so much emotion she didn’t know what to do. At least he was dealing with her well.

It took a while, but he patiently gave her the time to cry until she was done. Once she calmed, she sat next to him again with her back against the tree and held the letter in front of her. Her hands were shaking. She looked to him. He nodded. “Go ahead.” She opened it slowly and positioned herself so he could read it over her shoulder.

My dearest Amora, my beautiful baby girl, I’m so very sorry your father and I won’t be there to raise you, to love you, and protect you. Please know this is my greatest regret in life. Your father’s as well. But if you’re reading this, it means you’ve survived.

I’ve taken every measure I can think of within my abilities to ensure that, to keep you safe and to connect you with a man who will protect you. By birth, he is called Zelstrason of Argasport, but in the Orman lands he calls himself Zeltam of Ardevon. He’s a formidable warrior of great strength and character, a man who will save your life three times before you reach seventeen summers. I have seen it. Yet I fear you will not know one another, will not truly find one another for many years.

If my fears are warranted and you two have not yet come together, you must find him. Once you do, tell him your father, Fogard, named him as your Keeper. He will protect you from all harm from that point forth until you choose a prium.

There is another you must seek as well. She is called Miadreena of Nerryaxa. You’re most likely to find her at the Nexis or one of their magic training locations. She’ll set you on the right path in learning how to wield whatever magics have been bestowed upon you by the Gods.

My time runs short. The Purists grow restless. There’s so much more to say, but I must go if I’m to complete all my tasks before they come for me.

May the Gods grant you a good life, my beautiful daughter.

With all my love,
Your devoted mother,
Ankara

P.S. Zelstrason will want to know - your father died at the hands of Osmet.

Zel growled menacingly low and deep. “I’m starting to think just killing that Listra is not going to satisfy me.”

“I think I agree. The bastard killed my father. Now, I want him dead too.”

“You and me both, girl. You and me both. But about the letter, what do you think?”

“I don’t even know where to begin. I have so many questions.”

“Like what?”

“What’s a prium? It was on Fogard’s grave marker too.”

“It’s a partner designation between Listra who’ve made a commitment of sorts to one another, similar to your… to the Orman marriage, but not really as Listra don’t pair bond in the way of the Ormans.”

“They don’t?” Her brow furrowed.

“We have ten or more males for every female. Pair bonding would leave most males without any females, so most Listra females enjoy relationships with four or more males.”

“So, when Osmet said Listra males share their females, he wasn’t kidding?”

“He wasn’t, though warriors aren’t permitted to make relationships with females and a prium usually has some input as to the other males his female spends time with.”

“What? I’m so confused.”

Zel chuckled. “Don’t worry about all that now. There will be plenty of time to learn.”

“I’m curious though, do males have relationships with multiple females too?”

“There aren’t enough females go around, so it’s unusual for a male to be so lucky.”

“But if there were?”

“Then it would be up to the female, whether or not she allows it.”

“Whether or not she allows it? Females have the power in Listra relationships?”

“Of course.”

“Gods,” Amora looked up, “I’m so happy to be a Listra and not an Orman! Thank you!”

“Which Gods are you thanking, girl? Which do you worship?”

She cocked her head. “I don’t know, actually. Mother - the woman who raised me - she was a Purist. A Purist raised a girl who’s half Myara. Can you believe it?” Amora laughed. “That is too funny. I guess there was a reason I never got into her beliefs.”

“You know she’s probably rolling over in her grave now.”

“Oh, I know. She would be so ashamed. She was ashamed of me as it was, and made me to feel shame too, to feel ashamed of my ability.”

“I’m sorr…”

“Stop it. Don’t you dare apologize for me or my life anymore. No pity, remember?”

“Do you prefer it when I tell you to piss off then?”

“Actually, I do,” she said decisively.

The corners of his mouth turned up. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He stood and held out his hand. “Come.” He helped her up and led her to Fogard’s grave marker. He knelt at the foot of the grave, asked her to kneel across from him, then pulled a medallion out from under his tunic. It was something she’d never noticed he had. He took it off and handed it to her. On it were the faces of three wolves, each with a different symbol on its forehead then another symbol in the center below all three.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“It’s a medallion of the Trinity, the symbol of the Listranian Gods.”

“It is? I’ve seen this before, at least part of it, the symbol at the bottom.”

“Where?”       

“You’re not going to believe this.” She pulled out the baby blanket. “Look at the side with my name on it, the side you must’ve hidden when you wrapped me in it.” Right there in the blanket was symbol of the Trinity woven into it with the Myaran scrollwork. “I’ve always wanted to know what that symbol meant,” she said.

“Gods, I can’t believe I missed that. Your mother wove that into the blanket. You realize that? Your mother must have accepted our Gods in addition to her own.”

“People can do that? Have Gods from more than one species?”

“As long as they don’t conflict, I don’t see why not.” He pondered it for a moment. “Listranian Gods are moon gods. The primary God of the Myara is Lord Terrola, and all of their other Gods are of Terrola as well, so there’s no conflict that I can tell.”

“But Terrola is our planet. How can that be their God?”

“In the same way Listra believe our powers come from the moons, Myara believe their magic is given to them by the planet, so that is what they worship.”

“Can you teach me about all these Gods?”

 “So eager.” He smiled. “I can certainly teach you about our Gods. Look here.” He pointed to the first wolf on the medallion. Its symbol was a triangle with three, smaller embedded triangles, one at each corner. “This is Arpemal, the God of the green moon and our strata, our bonded animals. Wolves are our sacred animal and his symbol represents the face of a wolf.” He pointed to the two triangles at the top, “Those are the eyes,” then to the triangle at the bottom, “and that’s the nose and mouth.”  Do you see it?”

“I do.”

“And this one,” He pointed to the wolf on the opposite side. Its symbol was a curved X inside the shape of a shield. “This belongs to our God, Argas, the God of warriors and the one who resides on our blue moon. He is the protector, the shield, and he carries with him two swords.”

“Swords like yours.”

“Yes, exactly.” He smiled then drew her attention back to the medallion. “Then the wolf in the center, the most important, represents the Goddess Arganna. She is our Goddess of mating and fertility and resides on the pink moon. The two larger lines within her symbol join together in a V to represent the mating of the male and female. The smaller line at the bottom represents the offspring that comes from their union.”

He pointed to the bottom of the medallion. “Now here, this is all three symbols combined, the Trinity, just like what’s on your blanket.” He traced each of them. “The shield and swords are on the outside as the protectors of all. The sword blades converge with Arpemal’s wolf head to indicate the combined might of the warrior with his strata. Then Arganna’s lines sit within both the shield of Argas and the wolf of Arpemal for protection.”

“That’s so much more… involved than I expected.” Amora looked from the medallion to Zel. The lines on his face were hard and serious and the smile she wore vanished. “What?”

He met her eyes. “I’d like to complete the ritual… with your consent.”

“The ritual?”

“The Keeper ritual.”

“What does it do exactly?” she asked. “You know what? Never mind. Let’s just do it.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s with you. It’s you protecting me, right?”

“A Keeper is a warrior protector of female offspring, yes. But this ritual, this is more. Your father modified it.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Keeper duty is a temporary one. It lasts only until the female reaches maturity. But Fogard asked that I serve as your father. That’s more and … permanent.”

“But I’m all grown up. Been married and everything already. I don’t need a father.”

“You are Listra, girl, and you are less than twenty years. To our species, you are not ‘all grown up’ and that marriage should never have happened.” His tone was one of disapproval but she knew it wasn’t meant for her.

“There are a lot of things that should never have happened.” She scowled.

“True.” He waited.

After a moment, she asked, “You want to be my father?”

“I don’t know the first thing about being a father. Warriors are not meant to be fathers, so I doubt I’ll be very good at it but,” his gaze penetrated hers, “yes.”

“Yes?” She knit her brow.

“Yes.” He was unwavering.

“How can you want that?”

“You are Fogard’s daughter.”

“So, you’re doing it out of honor and duty, right? Not because you want to?” Her tone sounded harsh, even to her own ears.

He gazed at their joined hands still holding the medallion together and, after a long pause, asked, “Do you truly believe that?” His eyes met hers. “I will always honor your father. Always. And, yes, I am duty bound to accept this role. But after the time you and I have spent together, after… everything we’ve shared…” He looked down, shook his head, then met her eyes again. “You can sense what I feel, girl. Tell me, do you truly believe I do this only out of duty and honor?”

He was right. She did know what he felt. “What do you need me to do?” she asked.

“Just tell me you accept me as your Keeper.”

“And as my father?”

He nodded. “If you’d like.”

“Would you like me to say that?”

“I would.”

“Do I have to call you ‘father’ after this?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I accept you as my Keeper… and as my father.”

He nodded. His eyes looked just a little glassy. He draped the baby blanket over one of her hands, put the medallion of the Trinity in the center, then put her other hand over it and surrounded both her hands with his. He straightened, cleared his throat, cast his eyes downward, and spoke.

“Fogard, former Ace Warrior of Listrand, it is with great honor that I accept your call to serve as Keeper of your daughter, Amora. I vow to protect her with my life, to keep her safe from all harm, and to serve as her father in your stead. I swear this to you and to the Goddess, Arganna. Thank you, my friend, my brother, for trusting to me to keep that which is most precious to you. May the Trinity guide me and give me the strength and wisdom to earn the faith you have placed in me. And may the Gods bless you and Ankara and keep you both in the Glory Land of Argastra.”

He looked up and met her eyes. “It is done.”

She gazed at him slack jawed and at a loss for words for before she was finally able to say, “That was beautiful.”

“It was?”

“You just vowed to protect me with your life.”

“Of course.”

She shook her head. It was like she was living a dream.

Only a short time ago, she lived in a village where she was hated and carried a child she didn’t want, forced upon her by an abusive man she was sold to – and that was to be the remainder of her life, nothing more than a miserable existence as a servant and brood mare to a despicable man. But now, now she was not only rid of all that, but she was to be protected by an incredibly different man, one who, by all accounts, was among the most powerful warriors in all the lands of Terrola. Was this real? “Thank you,” she said, though those two words seemed so inadequate.

He returned the medallion to its home under his tunic then spread his arms. She entered his embrace, then sensed his emotion though she couldn’t decipher exactly what he was feeling, just that it was powerful. Maybe joy? “Are you okay?” she asked.

“You’re my girl now.” He kissed her head. “I just never thought…” His voice cracked. “Warriors are taught to never even dream about being fathers.” He was holding her so tightly.

She buried her head in the hard lines and strength of his chest and felt safer in his arms than she ever had anywhere in her life. And this wasn’t just for today. He was going to be there for her, to protect her. He was even going to teach her how to take care of herself. She held him as tightly as her arms would allow wishing she could think of words to express her gratitude.

Chapter 24 – The Evaluation

Zel decided they’d spend the night in the shack. He sent Bubo and Essy off on their own for the evening and expected they’d enjoy some hunting. In the meantime, he inspected the chimney, determined it was safe to use, then he and Amora gathered materials to light a fire. Once it was lit and he was sure the hovel wouldn’t burn to the ground, he told her he wanted to spend some time with Fogard. She was content to stay inside with Leyal and Kitten. “Maybe I’ll practice throwing spikes in here,” she’d said. He had no objection. It wasn’t like it would matter if she dotted the walls with holes.

The air was brisk, the evening the coolest they’d experienced in some time. Argas’ moon was rising and in the part of its cycle where it dominated their night sky. Its blue glow blanketed Terrola and Zel was pleased to see it. Having the warrior’s moon prominent when saying goodbye to a fallen brother just felt right.

His chest tightened as he stood over Fogard’s grave marker gazing at the inscription. He recalled their shared childhood and decades of friendship, and sorrow washed over him in a forceful and unexpected wave that staggered him internally. It had been over seventeen years since he’d helped Fogard and Ankara escape, plenty long enough that he’d wondered more than once if his friend was gone. He’d never been willing to accept that though. He’d always held on to hope. But now, now he had to face the truth. A cavernous pit of emptiness took residence in both his chest and stomach as he stared at the half rotted grave marker and dropped to his knees.

“Gods, Fogard, my brother, I will miss you. You were the best of us… And you left me your daughter, you crazy fool. You knew how I hoped and prayed to Arganna for a daughter every day while Voenna carried my child. And you bloody bastard, the last thing you do with your life is give me your little girl?” He shook his head. “Gods, I hope I get this right. I hope I make you proud, my brother, because she’s a good girl… a pain in my ass,” the corners of his mouth turned up, “a frustrating pain in my ass, Gods knows, but a really good girl. And resilient, so bloody resilient. She’s been through so much,” he lowered his eyes, “so much I wish I could have saved her from,” he said softly before he looked back at the marker, “but she’s come out of it with such strength.”

He thought for a second, cocked his head, then quipped, “She must get that from Ankara.” He smiled dolefully. “And, brother, how I wish you were here to give me a good, hard punch in the chest for that crack.” He took a deep breath and released it. “What say you to a new marker, my friend? A new marker and a chat? We’ll spend a night for old times, eh?”

He scoured the area for a piece of wood sizeable enough to fit the inscription and serve as a new grave marker, then sat by Fogard’s grave and talked with him as he carved each letter and number carefully with his favorite dagger. It wasn’t meant for the task and the letters didn’t turn out quite as clean as he would have liked, but he didn’t think Fogard would mind.

After he replaced the old marker, he joined Amora inside. She’d moved the bed into the corner and the chairs in front of the fireplace. She sat on one of them with a leg folded under her, Leyal and Kitten curled up on the floor behind her, and the firelight dancing over all of them warmly. She looked so much younger to him now than she did before- and so melancholy. “What’s wrong, girl?”

She focused on her foot and played with her boot, wiggling the toe area with her fingers. “I was just thinking about what life could have been like if my real mother and father lived.”

He took a seat in the chair next to her and put a hand on her thigh, “I know, girl. Believe me, I know. I wish they had survived as well. But don’t be too sad. What is done is done. We can’t change it. No sense in dwelling on what could have or should have been.”

She looked at him with the firelight highlighting her hazel eyes and gave half a smile. “I know you’re right.”

“Think of the joy you felt in discovering you come from the most impressive of parents.”

Her half smile turned into a full one. “That is something, isn’t it? So hard to believe.”

He smiled back at her happy to see her looking less gloomy. Then he stoked the fire and said, “Speaking of not being able to believe things, I can’t believe I was here the day I found you. Only… what? Thirty steps from his grave? All these years and I was right here that day.” He shook his head. “And I must have arrived… Gods, I must have arrived right after your mother decimated the village.”

“You think my mother did what you saw?” she said with disbelief in her voice.

“Who else? What else?”

Amora shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Well, think about it. We know from her letter that the Purists were after her and she was preparing somehow. We also know she was among the most powerful magic wielders in the lands. And, from what I saw, the village was decimated in a very unnatural way, with only one house left standing, one house that contained you- plus a few trees that just so happened to protect Fogard’s grave and our letters. It had to be her.” He was certain of it.

“You think a single Myara can take out a whole village?”

“If they wield the right type of magic or are able to cast the right type of spell, absolutely. Powerful Myara are very formidable beings. And if a village is going to take you out, why not take them right along with you if you can?”

“So, Purists have good reason to be afraid?”  

“People fear that which is more powerful than them.”

“Should they?”

He shrugged. “Well, there are good and bad in every species. There are a lot of good Myara, people like Delphine who seek only to help others. Your alchemist friend seems like he was a good one too. But very powerful Myara… well, they’re very powerful and that can be dangerous.”

“You said power corrupts.”

“Like nothing else, and no matter the species.” He rubbed his forehead. “And speaking of power…” It just occurred to him that he didn’t teach a random female to kill; he’d taught Fogard’s daughter to kill.

“Yes?”

“The power over life and death is its own kind of power and your crazy father left you in the care of a man who wields that power on a regular basis, one who’s already taught you to wield it.” He tilted his head up. “May the Gods forgive me.” Then looked back at her. “You killed two men the other day, the first kills for you that were men other than those who harmed you. We never discussed it.”

“They weren’t the first.”

That certainly wasn’t the response he expected. “They weren’t?”

“I killed an Orman the day… the day of Osmet.”

“You did?” His voice pitched up. “What were you doing involved in the battle?”

“I wasn’t involved, really.”

Zel eyed her pointedly waiting for further explanation.

“I was watching…”

“From where?” he growled.

“Behind a building… in the village,” she said in a thin voice.

He glared at her with the veins in his neck bulging.

“I know, I know.” She crouched in on herself. “Don’t look at me like that. I know it was wrong to get that close. I know you told me to stay back and, instead, I put myself in harm’s way. I know.” She bit her lip. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”

He continued to glare at her.

“I give you my word… for real this time,” she assured him. “It won’t happen again.”

He nodded, but couldn’t seem to wipe the scowl from his face. “Who did you kill? There were only two Orman there that day and one was…” His eyes grew wide. “You killed Jarrand?”

“One Orman and one who I think was a Myara but, yeah, Jarrand, I think that’s what Buzan said he was called. He said he used to be a smuggler friend of yours years ago, but that he’d betrayed you. He’s the one who suggested Osmet start tracking you down through your whores.”

“HE’S why Osmet went after my whores!” His voice was low and menacing and laced with his wolf’s growl. “That fucking asshole.” He drew the words out slowly as his anger ignited. His hands clenched into fists; then he shifted his mouth into that of his wolf, bared his teeth, and let out a vicious growl. Then another. His thirst to kill mingled with the primal desires at his Listra core and the bloodlust raged. He let out another growl. Leyal and Kitten became uneasy, both beginning to pace in the hovel.

A flicker caught his eye causing him to turn and see the shadow of his wolf’s jaw and its ferocious fangs. What was he doing allowing his primal side to take over? He couldn’t permit himself this indulgence. Amora would feel it. He had to reign it in. He forced himself to shift his mouth back into its human form and growled low and steady until Leyal and Kitten were at rest once again.

“It’s a good thing you don’t scare me, Sir Prickly and Short Tempered,” she quipped.

“Cute,” he said, his voice still raspy from the growl. “I do intend to work on gaining better control of my emotions around you, my girl, but this, this betrayal…” He shook his head and clenched his fists. “He endangered others. He endangered females with his careless stupidity, got them killed.” He growled again. Gods, he couldn’t believe Jarrand had betrayed him in such a way, such a way as to endanger innocent females.

After he settled himself completely, he said, “Good that you killed him. How?”

“With one of your throwing spikes,” she replied casually.

He raised a brow.

“Oh, don’t be impressed.” She waved her hand. “It was a total miss. I aimed for his heart and it landed in his eye.”

The corners of his mouth turned up. “Well, a kill’s a kill, girl. But how did you feel about it?”

“Oh, I was pretty happy about it.”

And she did look entirely unfazed. “It didn’t bother you?” In his experience, people often had difficulty dealing with their first kills. She didn’t seem to.

“Not after Buzan told me how he betrayed you. The guards bothered me a little though.”

“They did?”

“I think because they didn’t do anything wrong. I mean, I didn’t feel bad about the bandits at all. Those assholes deserved everything they got,” she said scowling. Her face softened a touch before she continued. “And then Jarrand… well, when the fighting began, his horse spooked and bolted straight for me. So, it was me or him… oh, and Leyal helped. Bit his sword arm something fierce, just tore through it.” She shuddered. “I didn’t realize, until then, just how very scary Leyal can be.” She waved her hand. “But the point is, I didn’t really have a choice with Jarrand. And then I found out how he betrayed you and that made me feel even less bad about it. But the guards…” She shrugged. “I just wanted to put them out of their misery because Essy’s bite, well, the effects don’t look so good. But I felt bad they had to die because they were just doing their jobs, you know?”

“Well good,” he said satisfied that she held a level of compassion. He expected more than she outwardly displayed for initial kills, but at least there was some. That was important for control. If he was to teach her to fight and kill, he had to know she had compassion or some kind of moral compass or both. Otherwise, there’d be too great a risk she’d become a dangerous beast he’d have to put down, and that was simply out of the question.

“Good?” She wrinkled her nose.

“Mmm hmm. It shows you have some compassion.” He was straight with her. “That you’re not a stone-cold assassin. If you can ever kill like that without feeling, well, it probably means you’ve done too much killing.”

“Can you kill like that without feeling?”

“I am an assassin, girl. What do you think?”

“That you’re really scary to most people.”

He chortled and shook his head. “I can’t believe your father left you in my hands. What was he thinking?”

“Did he know you were an assassin then?”

“I told him I was sellsword. He called me an assassin.”

“Which is true?”

He shrugged. “The line might be a little blurry.”

“Well, I say my father was thinking that, whatever else you are, you’re a good man and a good protector,” she said with a decisive nod.

“Let’s hope I don’t let him down.” He hoped he wouldn’t let her down either.

“You won’t,” she said with all the confidence he wished he felt.

They ate and retired a short while later. It took him some work to set up the bed frame – which he insisted they use – to accommodate his sleep sack while simultaneously ensuring their comfort. But, as he lie there in the early morning hours listening to her soft breathing, he decided it was worth the effort. He reminisced about sleeping with her in that very bed when she was just a babe and still couldn’t believe he had Fogard’s daughter in his arms all those years ago and was none the wiser. But now she was here again and she was his. He was her father now. He had no bloody idea what he was doing but, for the first time in thirty years, he had something to live for, and he swore by the Trinity he was going to do the best he could by her.

Before they left, he said one last goodbye to Fogard, and vowed to return every few years to carve a new marker and have a chat. Then they got back on the path headed to Tardokath Tower. They needed to find the woman called Miadreena that Ankara mentioned in her letter - and Zel was pretty sure Tardokath would be as far as they’d need to go.

Once they arrived, he set the animals to roam free outside its perimeter. He was only slightly concerned Kitten would stray, but thought it unlikely. The jaguar seemed eager to bond with him.

The main doors of the tower creaked open the same as they had on their previous visit only, instead of Elambor greeting them, the attractive woman Zel saw on the balcony before they left last time appeared. She was wearing a Myaran robe that, like Elambor’s had been, was made of imported velvet woven from Listranian silks. Hers was a deep indigo trimmed in gold Myaran scrollwork and, unlike Elambor’s, open at the shoulders and fitted at the top, its neckline plunging into a deep vee amidst an abundance of cleavage that accentuated her ample bosom.

“Zelstrason! Amora! You’re back!” she blurted enthusiastically as she bounded toward them, the black and blue streaked hair from her sleek high pony tail bouncing with her movements. Her hazel eyes shone brightly and jubilantly against her black skin. “May I hug?” She leaned into Amora but Zel put his arm out, blocked her, and gave a warning look.

“Oh yes, you’re a warrior. Of course, you’d be cautious. Well then, we’ll wait on hugs until I’ve earned your trust. My apologies. I’ve just waited so long to meet you both,” she addressed Amora, “so many years not even knowing if you survived. You have no idea.”

“And you are?” Zel asked.

“Oh, yes, yes. Forgive me. Where is my head? I’m trying to accost you with affection and you don’t even know my name. I am called Miadreena. I was Ankara’s closest friend and I have so much to share with you both.” She held her hands up in loose fists in what appeared to be an effort to contain her excitement.

“You knew my mother?” Amora asked with wide eyes.

“I did.” She smiled broadly.

Zel nodded and offered a small bow. “It’s a pleasure, Miadreena. It seems you were expecting us?”

“Yes, well, that’s one way of putting it,” she said maintaining the same exuberant expression. “The Oracle told me when you were coming last… Well, he told Elambor. But then Elambor told me, and I came all the way down from the Nexis, and…” She waved her hand. “Oh, never mind all that. The point is, he said I couldn’t see you then, that I’d have to wait until you two learned the truth on your own. So, I’ve been impatiently waiting to maul you both ever since.” She tittered. “Nonetheless,” she waved her hand again, “I suppose we must get down to business. Zelstrason, you and I will speak while Amora is evaluated.”

“Evaluated?” Amora questioned.

“Yes, sweet girl. I assume, considering your mother’s powers, that you’ve been blessed by the Gods, that you have some magic?”

“Well, I know things sometimes.”

“You know things? What kinds of things?”

“I don’t know. Things I shouldn’t know. Things I can’t explain how I know. And sometimes I get visions, visions of things that are going to happen.”

“Really?” Miadreena inclined her head thoughtfully. “That explains so much.”

“It does?”

“It does. But that’s for later. For now, let’s get you evaluated and find out what magics the Gods have bestowed upon you, hmm?” She turned and called out, “Shreya.”

Shreya appeared from the same hallway she’d come from last time.

“Please take Amora for her evaluation,” said Miadreena.

Amora looked to Zel. He nodded and she allowed Shreya to whisk her away.

“Come. Please join me in the courtyard, Zelstrason.” He followed Miadreena to a set of large, black double doors covered in carved flowers. They walked through and entered an impossibly spacious courtyard, one at least two or three times too large for the tower that housed it, yet the walls around them looked like the interior walls of the tower. It was quite an illusion- if that’s what it was. Zel wasn’t sure but, whatever it was, he had to marvel at the Myaran magic.

Unlike the tower’s barren, unwelcoming outer courtyard, this one was bright and filled with life. A vibrant pink flowering cherry tree stood majestically – and grew magically – out of the center of a glistening, low statured, three-tier fountain. Hydrangeas with soft, white flowers climbed the tower walls on all sides. Their aroma competed for supremacy with the jasmine and gardenias below and, though the bouquet was certainly lovely, there were times Zel wished he didn’t have an enhanced sense of smell.

Miadreena sat on one of several available pristine white benches across from the tree and fountain in the center and patted the space next to her. Zel took a seat and the scent from the gardenias behind the bench engulfed him overtaking the other scents in the courtyard. It was potent; but at least it was only a single scent and a delightful one at that.

“So, you are the mighty Zelstrason,” Miadreena said appraising him. “Well, your size and appearance certainly match your reputation.”

“Thank you,” Zel said with some trepidation, “I think.”

“Oh yes, that was most definitely meant as a compliment.” She patted his arm and smiled warmly.

He got the sense that she had no fear of him and liked that. It wasn’t always the case when he met someone new. “You said you had information to share?” he prompted, eager to hear what she had to say.

“I do.” She inclined her head. “About the last time I saw Ankara. They were still on the run, in Veyforge at the time. I happened to be visiting another friend there and Ankara caught sight of me. We spent a short time together and she told me some things in confidence. One was about a vision she had when she touched your hands at the docks in Thalaria.”

Zel’s eyes widened. “Gods, I’d completely forgotten about that. It’s been so long. When nothing came of it after the first few years, I put it out of my mind. Does this mean she had the same ability as Amora?”

“Actually, no. But we’ll get to that momentarily. First, let’s talk about what she saw.”

“What did she see?”

“That she was with child, for one. That vision was how she learned she was carrying.”

“What a way to find out.” He remembered the expression on Ankara’s face that night. It made so much more sense now.

“Oh, but that’s not nearly the half of it,” continued Miadreena. “She also saw that her child was going to grow up without her, and without Fogard. She knew they would both perish long before their child even crawled.”

“Gods.” He furrowed his brow. “Was there nothing she could do with that knowledge? No way to stop it?”

Miadreena shook her head. “Even the most powerful Myara can’t control fate and she couldn’t see their deaths, only that their child would be without them.” She touched his arm. “But she also saw you. She saw you save Amora three times: once as a babe, once as a young girl, and then once again around her current age now. She kept the knowledge from Fogard, but said she was going to convince him to conduct something called a Keeper ceremony. She said that would bind you to their daughter in the Listra way; and she told me she was going to add a spell to further bind you in a Myaran way.”

“So, we have been spelled?”

“You have. Likely with several different spells. I’m sure she cast everything she could think of that might help protect Amora. But there’s one I know of for certain that she planned to cast, a connection spell that will allow you to find one another no matter how far you apart you may be. If I had to guess, Amora already knows how to use it to find you instinctively and I can teach you how to do the same.”

“You can? But isn’t that Myaran magic?” He’d never heard of a Listra or any other species being able to wield Myaran magic.

“It is. But it’s a spell that was cast on you specifically so you can use it… provided you’ve completed it.”

“Completed it?”

“Yes. The spell is activated almost entirely by you. You see, the connection is tenuous at first. Then, it’s interactions between the two of you that strengthen it. Every meaningful interaction would strengthen the spell’s connection.”

“Meaningful interaction? Like what?”

“Saving her life three times would certainly count.”

“I believe it’s only been twice. I found her in a decimated village when she was a babe, and then in Lurran more recently.”

“There must be a third time,” she said with certainty. “Did you meet her as a little girl as Ankara saw?”

“I did. But I didn’t save her from anything, merely accompanied her into the forest to, well, to put a deer out of its misery.”

“Oh, but my guess is that you did save her; that someone or something would have killed her that night if not for you being there. I mean, look at you Zelstrason.” She gestured indicating his frame. “Your mere presence would be a deterrent to many.”

“I suppose it’s possible,” he said considering the prospect. “I did hear something unusual that night.”

“Oh, I guarantee it’s more than possible,” Miadreena assured. “And I assume you’ve spent some time with her to further build the connection, yes? You knew you were spelled. If you felt it, it’s likely you completed the spell in its entirety.”

“We did. Before our first visit to Tardokath, actually. It’s what prompted us to come here.”

“That’s good. Very good. And you should know you couldn’t have completed it without caring for her, and she’s old enough now that it would require feelings on both sides.”

“Huh.” Zel wasn’t sure what to say to that, but something inside him stirred warmly upon hearing it.

“And the more you care for one another,” Miadreena added, “the stronger the spell becomes.”

Zel contemplated her words. He had a daughter now, a daughter with whom he was permanently connected. Fogard’s girl. Now his girl. How his life had changed overnight. Then he remembered Ankara. “And about Ankara and the vision she had, you said she didn’t have the same ability as Amora?”

“Oh yes, that is quite interesting.” Miadreena adjusted and sat a little straighter. “You see, Ankara never had the gift of sight. It wasn’t one of her magics. What she saw that night when she touched you, well, it wasn’t her visions she was seeing. It wasn’t her gift she was feeling.”

“Whose was it?”

“Why Amora’s, of course. That’s why I said her having visions explained so much. A Myara can’t acquire a new magic out of thin air when they’re as old as Ankara was and we never could figure out how she got that vision. Now we know.”

“It was Amora from the womb?” Zel’s eyes widened.

Miadreena nodded. “Yes, exactly.”

“Is that common?” He’d never heard of such a thing.

“Not at all.”

“What does it mean?”

Shreya approached interrupting them.

“Excuse me, Zelstrason.” Miadreena turned from him to address the young girl. “Yes, Shreya?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, Maiselle Miadreena, but we need your help.”

“Can it wait? I’m busy right now.”

“Well, there are things they don’t understand, things they’ve never seen before.”

“Is she talking about Amora?” Zel asked.

Miadreena addressed Shreya. “Okay dear, I’ll be there momentarily.” Shreya nodded and took her leave and Miadreena turned back to Zel. “It seems I must excuse myself.” She rose from the bench. “I won’t be long.”

“What is it? Is it about Amora?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll let you know in a bit.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t you fret.” She smiled warmly. “You completed that Keeper ceremony Ankara talked about, didn’t you?”

“I did.” He nodded.

“No wonder you’re so protective of her now.” She patted his shoulder. “She’ll be fine here. There’s no need to worry.”

Elambor approached with his hands held in front of his chest, steepled with only the fingertips touching in his usual way. “Miadreena. Zelstrason.” He nodded to each of them. “How is everything?”

“Very well,” said Miadreena. “But I must apologize. I have been summoned.”

“Well then, I think I can entertain our guest for a while.” Elambor’s sideburns rose with his smile.

“So Zelstrason,” said Elambor as he took Miadreena’s place on the bench, “the Oracle said you’d be back. Did you find what you sought?”

“That and more.”

“Excellent. Excellent. And how are things with your new friend?”

“Oh, Kitten is fitting in nicely. There’s some competition between him and my wolf, but they’ll be alright.”

 “You named him Kitten?”

“I did.” The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly.

 “It seems our Oracle isn’t the only one with a sense of humor.” Elambor’s eyes twinkled with his smile.

Zel and Elambor chatted a while longer until Miadreena summoned them both. They traversed a series of the tower’s many hallways until they reached a seating area where Amora waited. Zel joined her and conveyed all he’d just learned while Elambor disappeared behind a closed door with Miadreena.

Then Amora talked about her evaluation experience until the door opened and Miadreena called them into what appeared to be a single room library. It was walled with books from floor to towering ceiling and, where there were no books, there were lit candles, dozens of them on every available surface casting a bright, warm glow over the room. Miadreena stood with Elambor and two other Myara who wore similarly dark robes. Zel didn’t know the Myaran color designations, but he’d observed enough Myara to discern darker colors indicated power and high status.

“Have a seat, please, both of you.” Miadreena gestured to two leather padded armchairs near them. The four Myara took a seat behind a long, ornate table across from them. “So, we have some interesting results.” Elambor scanned the parchment in front of him. “It seems Amora is gifted with several of the magics within the category we call sight magics. She is designated as a seer, a clairvoyant, and an empath...”

 “Uh,” one of the unknown Myara interrupted, “there’s some contention regarding the empath designation.”

“Yes, I thought we decided against that one,” the other unknown Myara added.

“Oh yes,” Elambor agreed, then turned to Miadreena, “Would you like to address that?”

“Of course.” Miadreena’s eyes sparkled in the candlelight. “Myara with the empath designation can sense and sometimes even feel the emotions of others. It seems Amora shows this ability, but only with you, Zelstrason. I believe, we believe, Amora isn’t actually an empath, but that this ability she has with you is due to Ankara’s connection spell, a side effects of sorts.”

“Is there a way to stop it?” Zel asked.

“I’m afraid not, not unless you two undo the connection spell.”

“How would that be done? If we ever wanted to, I mean.”

“I told you how the spell was completed,” said Miadreena. “The only way I know of to reverse it is to do the opposite.”

“I see. So, it seems I’m going to have to learn better emotional control around her then.”

“Not necessarily,” she countered. “A large part of Amora learning how to use her magics will be learning how to control them. Eventually, she’ll be able to block what she doesn’t want to feel.”

“Gods, really? That would be wonderful.” Amora beamed.

Zel inclined his head toward her. “What happened to ‘oddly comforting?’” he asked feigning insult.

She put her hands out and shrugged, unable to contain her smile. He tried to press his lips into a thin, disapproving line, but the corners of his mouth were still turned up.

Miadreena signaled to Elambor to continue. He glanced at the parchment and said, “She also possesses the ability to read auras and experience precognition.”

“The aura reading ability is abnormal, Elambor,” one of the unknown Myara noted.

“Oh yes. Right. Right. She reads something that seems to be similar to auras, but is more…” He searched for the words.

“It seems to be more along the lines of species identification than aura reading,” Miadreena finished for him. “It’s not something we’ve seen before. We think it might be a result of the mixed breeding, like a hybrid magic of sorts, something similar to one of our magics, but with a little Listra spin on it.”

 “Yes, yes,” Elambor agreed. “What she said. Now, there are a few other things you need to know.” He addressed Amora. “First, it is possible for magics to manifest until a Myara reaches thirty years. However, our guess is that you’re unlikely to acquire too many more powers, if any, as your abilities manifested at a very young age and all fall under the same category of magic. But, once you learn how to wield and control these abilities, you’ll likely be quite powerful in this area, Amora, quite powerful. It’s even possible that you could become an Oracle one day.”

“An Oracle?” Zel said. “I don’t want her becoming an Oracle.”

Elambor met his eyes. “Whether you want it or not, it may be a possibility for her, Zelstrason. And you should know that Oracles are the most powerful of seers and among the most highly revered of all Myara.” He waved his hand. “Nonetheless, that’s what we know. Then there’s what we don’t know and don’t understand.”

“What’s that?” Zel asked.

“She has abilities with animals that Myara don’t possess.”

 “I think they come from the Listra side,” Miadreena added.

“Yes,” agreed Elambor. “We all do. You may need to figure out exactly what type of Listra magic she possesses and teach her how to wield it. This is not something Myara can do for her. Animal magic, your magic, is completely different from ours.”

Miadreena tapped Elambor on the shoulder. “Okay, now you have to tell them the best part. Come on now. Out with it. You’re taking too long.”

“What’s the best part?” Amora wanted to know.

“Because your abilities of sight manifested so early and appear to be quite robust,” said Elambor, “you’ll be invited to attend magic academy at the Nexis.”

Miadreena had her hands up in loose fists again looking like she was doing all she could not to bounce in delight.

“The Nexis,” Amora said awed, then turned to Zel. “But I don’t want to go without you. I just found you. We just did the ritual and…”

“Don’t worry, my girl,” Zel interrupted, “you won’t be going anywhere without me.”

“It’s not customary to allow chaperones at the Nexis, Zelstrason,” said Elambor.

Miadreena tapped his shoulder again. “Oh, I think we can make an exception, don’t you? This is Ankara’s daughter, after all. And I was planning to go back anyway, so I could just stay and vouch for him. That way it’ll be my responsibility if anything goes wrong.”

“It’s not my decision, Miadreena. You’ll have to take it up with the Council.” Elambor rolled up the parchment.

“Yes, yes, of course. But…” Miadreena put her hand on his arm, “you’ll put your support behind me, won’t you?”

“I will,” said Elambor. “You know I will.”

“For Ankara’s daughter, we will too,” said the one of the two unknown Myara. The other nodded in agreement.

Zel nodded. “Thank you, all of you. It’s important that I’m able to watch over her.”

Chapter 25 – A Stop in Port Leyla

Three weeks later, Zel and Amora found themselves with Miadreena at Beylaton, a magic training academy in Port Leyla, the busiest port city in the Myaran land of Ley Lanna. Beylaton was nearly the size of a small town in and of itself though they’d heard the Nexis was even more impressive in its own unique way.

Zel and Amora walked the widest stone street passing four-story buildings that served as housing for the academy’s teachers and students, housing Amora had been awed by when they first arrived several days prior. There was much here she’d never seen before and Zel had been enjoying her wide-eyed wonder over it all. The second day was especially delightful as they traversed Beylaton stopping at every loudly barking vendor who pushed carts throughout the facility and, in doing so, were presented with wares that ranged from the ordinary and recognizable to the truly bizarre. Amora had “oohed” and “aahed” over most everything.

They got special permission for Terber and Buzan to move freely inside the walls of the facility and Miadreena, who they’d discovered was exceptionally well respected and connected within the Myaran training institutions across Ley Lanna, even arranged for them to be permitted to stay in one of their extra rooms overnight. Zel was meeting them at the facility’s ale stand directly across the street from the archery range where Amora was headed to practice.

They parted, and he made his way to the stand where Terber and Buzan were waiting in plain clothes with no armor and no weapons, at least none visible. Miadreena had advised them all against looking too much like warriors. “Best not to make the locals uneasy,” she’d said. Zel complied but for the dagger at his ankle concealed by his britches; not because he expected to have need of it, simply because he preferred not to part with it.

He greeted them with a warrior’s greeting and far more enthusiasm than the last time they’d met. It was warm and the day bright, so they chose one of the shaded tables in front of the ale stand and Zel sat facing the archery range so he could keep an eye on Amora. An attractive young, blond Myara whose breasts were almost entirely on display took their order for a tankard of ale. Her bodice reminded Zel of those Ginni used to wear and he couldn’t help but smile wistfully when he caught himself checking for his coin purse out of habit.

Terber impatiently tapped his fingers on the table the entire time the barmaid was there, then eagerly leaned forward as soon as she departed. “So, Commander, will you lead our forces? Will you fight to take Listrand and become Laspet?” he asked in a rush.

“Nothing like giving us all a second to catch a breath and enjoy ourselves, Terber,” Buzan admonished shaking his head.

“Well, excuuuuse me,” Terber made no effort to conceal the frustration in his voice, “but it’s been weeks. Our cover’s blown. We’re on the run. And, in case you haven’t noticed, we have no home.”

Buzan narrowed his eyes. “And what does any of that have to do with the Commander?”

“Well, we need to know what to do.”

“Like we can’t manage two seconds without guidance?”

“I’m not saying that.”

“It’s all you’ve been whining about.”

“I have NOT been whining.” Terber scrunched his brows and crossed his arms.

Buzan rolled his eyes. “Please, Commander,” he put his hand on Zel’s forearm, “whatever news you have for us… before I kill him.”

Zel’s smile reached his eyes. It was good to see his men again, to hear their banter. “I see nothing’s changed with you two in all these years.”

Terber pressed his lips into a thin line.

Buzan smirked and pulled his hand away as a tankard of ale and three full mugs appeared in front of them.

Zel took a swig. “How about you two give me a field report before we get into the Laspet question, eh? Have we lost anyone?”

Buzan spoke first. “Our strata survive, thank the God, Arpemal. We brought them across the Great Sea with us since we don’t expect we’ll be going back to Listrand any time soon.”

“Yes, and my falcon, Fajah, will serve to deliver messages back and forth, as needed,” Terber added. “But,” he released a heavy breath, “we lost six men, all spies who’d infiltrated Osmet’s ranks like we did.”

“Yeah, the bastard killed ten men out of sheer suspicion: four of his own that were actually loyal to him, and six of ours.” Buzan shook his head. “The asshole is ruthless.”

“And that means we have to start from scratch again,” said Terber. “We have no one left on the inside.”

“Well, not entirely from scratch,” Buzan corrected. “We do still have spies in place. It’s just that none are close to him.”

Terber pursed his lips but didn’t argue.

Buzan continued. “But, in good news, our numbers have increased tenfold since our warriors learned you’re alive.”

The corners of Zel’s mouth turned down. “Because they wish to follow me?”

“Of course, Sir,” Buzan confirmed.

He took a deep breath. “Is there no one else? Truly no one else? Even after all these years?”

“None like you, Sir,” Terber said. “None even close.”

“What about Mannald? Isn’t he First Commander now? He’s capable.”

Buzan cocked his head. “Capable of doing what? He certainly can’t best Osmet. There’s no Listra alive that has any chance against Osmet, save you.”

“Well, he’d be a better ruler than Osmet at least,” Zel said emphatically.

Terber rolled his eyes. “That’s not a very high bar now, is it?” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter anyway. Mannald’s already backing you for the crown.”

“He’s what? Why?”

“Because even he knows it must be you,” said Buzan.

Zel shook his head. “And how about Laspet Pahan? I mean, I’m an outlaw. It’s not like I can just take the crown. Even if I fight Osmet and win, as long as Pahan rules, I could be put to death for merely attempting to put forth a challenge.”

“I have it on good authority that Laspet Pahan believes one of the worst mistakes he’s ever made was how he handled your… infraction,” said Buzan. “I don’t believe he’ll carry out the sentence. In fact, I think he knows his reign is coming to an end and, even though he doesn’t agree with your views on interspecies relations, he’d rather you take the throne than Osmet.”

“On good authority?”

“He was mounting one of the Laspet’s females,” Terber clarified.

Buzan shot him a look of disapproval.

 “What?” Terber shrugged. “It’s not like you’re the first spy in history to seduce a target for information.”

Buzan pursed his lips, shook his head, then looked back at Zel. “Sir, we wouldn’t ask this of you if there were any other option, neither of us would. You know that.”

Terber nodded in agreement.

Buzan continued. “I know you don’t want this, Zelstrason. Believe me I know.” He wrapped his hand around Zel’s forearm. “I know it’s the last damn thing you want. But I also know you’ll do it. You’ll do it because Listrand needs you. You know it and, ultimately, your honor won’t allow you to do anything other than come to her aid.”

Zel took a deep breath.

“We’ll be by your side all the way if that’s any consolation, Sir,” said Terber.

“Always.” Buzan released his arm.

Zel offered a forced smile, but it vanished as fast as it appeared. He ran a hand through his long blue-black waves and lowered his head. He couldn’t believe he had to do this. So much for the dream of a simple, peaceful life with a good woman. But Buzan was right. He couldn’t let his men down, couldn’t let Listrand down, couldn’t turn his back on his homeland even though it had turned its back on him. He took another deep breath, released it slowly, then looked back up. “I’ll need three years.”

“Three years?” Terber’s voice came out several octaves higher than usual. Several patrons and passersby turned to look at him. He lowered his voice before continuing, “What do you mean three years? We don’t have three years…”

Buzan patted Terber’s arm.

He pivoted to Buzan. “Whaaat? Are you telling me to shut up? You argue with the Commander all the time when you disagree with him. I can’t argue with him when I disagree with him? What makes you so special?”

“This is not an option for the Commander, you fool.” Buzan scowled.

“How do you know?”

Buzan rolled his eyes. “Instincts, man. I have instincts.” He turned to Zel. “Sir, might I ask the obvious; why three years?”

“For several reasons, but primarily because it will be three years before Amora reaches twenty.”

Terber grimaced. “And what does Amora have to do with anything?”

Zel decided he’d just come out with it. “Amora is Fogard’s daughter.”

Their eyes grew wide. Buzan looked to be at a loss for words, but Zel thought he heard him repeat the words ‘Fogard’s daughter’ ever so softly.

“What?” Terber croaked. “Are you certain?”

“Quite. He named me her Keeper.”

“You can’t be named Keeper,” Terber argued, “You’re a First Commander.”

“I was a First Commander. I haven’t been in Listrand for thirty years.”

“But…”

“But nothing. I’ve completed the ritual. I am her Keeper and more importantly,” he looked at them both pointedly, “Fogard altered the ritual. He named me her father should he perish.” Buzan’s face said he drew the obvious conclusion immediately, but Zel knew Terber didn’t so he continued, “They’re gone, both of them, Fogard and Ankara.”

“No, that cannot be,” said Terber.

Buzan sat back in his chair frowning. “Gods, I know it’s been years, but I’d hoped…” He shook his head.

“Me too, brother, me too,” Zel said. “Nonetheless, what is, is, and I am bound as her Keeper. You both know that means I cannot risk fighting a war until she reaches Listra maturity.”

“But what if Osmet challenges Pahan for Listrand in the meantime?” Terber asked.

“He won’t.”

“You don’t know that, Sir.” He ran a nervous hand through his dirty blond spikes. They fell back into place immediately.

“I do,” corrected Zel. “I do because we’re going to make sure he knows I’ll challenge him in return if he does.”

“But you can’t risk a challenge until Amora reaches maturity.”

“He doesn’t know that now, does he?”

“And we’re going to need to make damn sure he doesn’t find out,” said Buzan. “What’s your plan, Commander? You must have one.”

“Yes, what are we all supposed to do in the meantime?” Terber asked. “Three years is a long time.”

“We prepare,” Zel said. “As for Amora and I, we’ll be at the Nexis magic academy so she can learn how to wield and control her magics. And, while we’re there, I’ll be taking the opportunity to teach her our magic, culture and customs, and also how to fight.”

“You’re teaching a female to fight?” Terber tilted his head, frowning.

“I am.”

“But females ne…”

“There are reasons. And I have decided. Leave it be, Terber.”

“Yes, Sir,” he said in resignation.

“As for what you’ll be doing,” he continued.

Terber straightened in his chair.

“You’re going to be my number one in preparing our army and setting up a new spy ring, far more extensive than what you had before. I want us two steps ahead of Osmet at all times.”

 “Yes, Sir,” he said, his voice both serious and confident for the first time since they took their seats. “As Buzan mentioned, our numbers have increased significantly with the news that you’re alive. We have far greater resources than we did.”

“Good. Let’s hope we don’t have to use them in battle. I will challenge Osmet to one-on-one combat once I’m ready. Hopefully we can avoid war.”

“You know he’ll refuse.” Terber scowled.

“That’s why I’m trusting you to organize our forces. Am I right to choose you?”

“Absolutely,” he said with conviction. “My apologies, Sir. I realize I’ve been rather… irritable.”

“And whiny,” Buzan added. Terber elbowed him.

“Consider it forgotten,” Zel said successfully suppressing a grin at their antics.

He turned to Buzan who straightened in his seat as well. “For the next couple of months, you will assist Terber in the initial set up. After that, you’ll be at the Nexis with me most of the time. When I’m not training Amora, I’ll need you. I cannot best Osmet right now and will require rigorous training to get where I need to be to ensure I don’t lose and you’re going to serve as my training partner.”

“What do you mean you can’t best Osmet?” asked Terber.

“I mean exactly that. He’s grown faster and his strength is unparalleled. It was by the grace of Argas only that his sword pierced my thigh and not my heart when we last met. I’ve spent thirty years honing different skills. If this were a game of stealth and assassination, he couldn’t win. But, that’s not what this is, and my skills in one-on-one combat are no longer what they once were.”

“Well, there is one piece of good news regarding Osmet and combat, Commander,” noted Buzan.

“What’s that?”

“Our remaining spies have informed us that you took his eye in the battle. They weren’t able to save it. He must learn how to see and how fight again with only the one eye. It will take him some time to become as good as he was.”

“That is good news,” Zel agreed. “I have some good news as well.” He couldn’t suppress his smile. “As of Arpemal’s full moon five nights past, I have a new strata bonded to me, a black jaguar.”

“Holy Jallah Argastra, Zel. How many is that? Four?” asked Buzan.

“It is.” Zel beamed.

“Shit, Commander.” Terber shook his head. “No one has four strata.”

“I do,” Zel said. “He reminds me of Voenna when she was in animal form too, in a good way.”

“Oh Zel,” Buzan flashed his winning smile, “that is something else. Congratulations.”

“Yes, congratulations.” Terber tipped his cup with a nod.

He nodded in acknowledgment. “He’s another reason preparation time won’t be bad for us. It will give me time to fully establish the bond. Plus, he’s not yet entirely grown, not yet at peak strength, and I’ll need all the strength he can give me to best Osmet.”

“Gods, Sir, a jaguar,” said Buzan. “That is impressive.” He cocked his head. “Wait, can you roar now?”

Zel couldn’t have smiled any wider if he’d tried.

He spent some time with them outlining his plan and what their duties would be in detail. Then the conversation shifted to Fogard. Each recalled stories of days past, remembering their time with him. Afterwards, they clasped hands and said a prayer to the Trinity for both Fogard and Ankara. Then, before they left the ale stand, Buzan pulled Zel aside and asked him if they could talk alone.

The two of them met a short while later on the private balcony of Zel’s fourth-floor room. They stood resting their forearms on the balcony’s wide railing watching the street below where there were still some people milling about, though the light was growing dim and it wasn’t quite as busy or noisy as it had been earlier.

“Sir… Your Highness,” Buzan began, “What are your plans for warriors, in regard to females, I mean? Will we be permitted to make relationships with them?”

Zel gave him a sideways glance. “Your Highness? Really, Buzan? It’s me you’re talking to. And I’m far from becoming Laspet.”

Buzan turned to him. “You are my Laspet now, Zelstrason. I can no longer serve in Listrand since my cover was blown, remember? That means I’m free to choose my own ruler and my choice is you. It has always been and, right now, I’m asking what you’ll permit as my Laspet, Your Highness.”

Zel looked toward the street and let out a heavy sigh. “I’m no higher than you or anyone else.”

“You are and you will be precisely because of that.”

“Bah.” He brushed the words off with a wave.

“That you don’t seek power, that you don’t feel entitled to it, that you don’t look down on others the way Osmet does matters, Commander. You know me. I’m not much for authority, but I’d follow you anywhere. By choice. And so will so many others. That’s why it must be you to take the crown.”

Zel shook his head. “You flatter me, Buzan, bu…”

“Dammit, Commander, I’m not trying to bloody flatter you. I’m merely being truthful. Now, answer me already, will you?... Your Highness.”

Zel furrowed his brow, bent, pulled his dagger from its holster and began cleaning his fingernails with it.

Buzan looked at him “Well?”

“Well, what? What was the question?” he asked focusing on his nails.

“You can’t be serious?” Buzan looked back toward the street.

The corners of Zel’s mouth turned up. He didn’t say a word.

“Your Highness,” Buzan said through clenched teeth, “will warriors be permitted to make relationships with females?”

“Why are you asking?” Zel asked casually.

“I’m just asking.”

“Oh no. You’re entirely too eager and you’re a randy bastard. You’re not asking about relationships with females unless you have one in mind.”

“Can you please just answer the damn question?” Buzan said in exasperation.

Zel kept his eyes fixed on his nails. “I don’t think so. No. No, I can’t.” He was having fun with this.

Buzan rolled his eyes. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Screw you… Your Highness.”

Zel let out a burst of deep, hearty laugher. “This is why I keep you around, you know?”

“Why? Because I’m not afraid to tell you to piss off?”

“Exactly. If I wanted blind obedience, I’d train a dog.” He holstered his dagger then leaned on the railing. “You know, you and Amora would get along. She’s the only other person I know who’s not afraid to tell me to piss off.”

“Good. Good for her. Sometimes you need it,” he said with a nod. “You still haven’t answered me, Sir.”

“And I’m not going to until you tell me about this female.”

Buzan gave him a sideways glance, then looked back toward the street.

“Out with it. Come on,” Zel said not letting up.

“I barely even know her.”

Zel stayed silent. Waited.

“I’ve only talked to her a couple times.”

Zel waited.

“I don’t know, Sir. I think something’s wrong with me.”

“You think something’s wrong with you?” Zel looked at him with a raised a brow.

Buzan shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said sounding at a loss. “I barely know this female. I met her just a short time ago and I’ve only seen her a few times, but I can’t stop thinking about her. Every night. Every day. Whether my eyes are open or closed, I imagine her face. I can’t concentrate. I can’t focus. And when I actually see her, I… Gods, I don’t even know… it’s like I tremble inside. And my stomach, I see her and it’s all twisted into knots. The last time, my mouth went dry and my hands began to sweat. I think I’m ill, Sir. Can a male be made sick by a female?”

Zel chuckled softly. Then louder. Then he broke out into a full-blown belly laugh.

“What? Why are you laughing at me, Sir?” He furrowed his brow. “I’m serious. I think something is wrong with me.”

“You randy bastard,” he said in between his laughter, “it’s about time.”

“What?”

It took a moment for Zel to regain composure. “I’m sorry, my friend.” He tried his hardest to put on a straight face. “I shouldn’t be laughing. This is very serious indeed.”

“It is?” Buzan eyes widened.

“It is,” Zel said in as sober a voice as he could muster. “You have been afflicted.”

“I have? With what?”

“With love, you bloody dolt.” Zel gave him a playful shove.

“Love?” His brow crinkled. “This cannot be love. My stomach is sick. I tremble. This cannot be love.” He shook his head in denial.

“Well, that’s how it began for me with Voenna.”

“But it makes no sense.”

Zel put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re damn right about that, brother. But I have good news for you.” He clapped him on the back.

“What’s that?”

“You’ll have plenty of opportunity to figure it out if I become Laspet…”

“When, when you become Laspet… Your Highness,” Buzan said looking over his lashes with a grin.

Zel growled his wolf’s growl, just slightly, then continued. “Because you will no longer be a warrior, so the relationship restrictions, whatever I decide them to be, won’t apply to you anyway.”

Buzan’s grin disappeared. “Why wouldn’t I be a warrior? Why would you take that away from me, Sir? It’s not only what I am, it’s who I am.”

“Do you think it would be wise of me to waste my most trusted advisor on a battlefield?”

“Sir?”

Zel faced him squarely. “You and Terber are my most trusted men. You will be part of my council and you, Buzan, will serve as my right hand.”

Buzan took a knee, bending his head so his rich, brown hair shrouded his face. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Oh, get up, my brother. Save the formalities for when we’re in front of other people. Keep telling me to piss off when we’re alone. Like you said, I need it sometimes.”

Buzan stood. “I’m honored, Zelstrason.” They grasped arms holding each other at the elbows. “Truly. Thank you. I won’t let you down… and I’ll keep telling you to piss off when you need it too.”

“Damn right, you will.” They embraced as warrior brothers.

Once they disengaged, Zel said, “So you have my consent, brother, go forth and make a relationship with this female who makes you ill.” He couldn’t help but chuckle again. But then he noticed Buzan grew silent. “What is it?”

“Nothing, Sir.”

“Buzan?”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t what?”

“Make a relationship with her.”

“Oh, of course you can. You don’t think she’d refuse you, do you? It’s been years, but I saw how females fawned over you any time we visited the Orman or Myaran lands. And I know that hasn’t changed. Even our fetching young barmaid was practically thrusting her bosom in your face today. I can’t imagine any female would refuse you. I’m sure she’ll accept your advances.”

Buzan grinned. “She does look at me unwittingly. Stares, you know? Then catches herself and looks away, usually with reddened cheeks. She can barely meet my eyes most of the time.”

“So, she does like you. See, I knew it. Go after her then, man. Why in Argas’ name are you still standing here with me?”

“I can’t, Sir.”

“What do you mean, you can’t?” Zel looked at him and saw uncharacteristic worry in his eyes. “What is it, brother?”

“May I ask you something, Sir?”

“Of course. Anything.”

“Am I a good man? A male you would approve of for a female?”

“Well, you are a randy bastard, but yes, of course,” Zel said lightly.

Buzan didn’t respond and Zel saw the worry remained. More seriously, he said, “Yes, Buzan, you’re the best man I know. Truly. You’d be a wonderful mate to any female, a wonderful prium too should you choose to offer yourself to a female in that way.”

“So, you would approve of me?”

“Of course.”

“Would you approve of me if it were your daughter?”

“If I had a daughter, of course, I wou…” Zel’s eyes grew wide. “Oh.”

Buzan looked at him nervously.

“You must wait until she is twenty years, Buzan.” His tone was stern.

“I know, Sir. That’s why I told you I can’t make a relationship with her, not yet. I would never, ever disrespect Fogard’s daughter or yours… ever. You know that.”

“But you do tend to be a little loose with the rules sometimes…”

“Not with this. Some lines even I won’t cross,” Buzan said, his gaze unwavering.

“You understand the seriousness and the ramifications then?”

“You know I do.”

Zel nodded. “Three years is a long time to wait.”

“I know, and I don’t know if I’ll feel the same in three years, or if she will or…”

“She’ll be a completely different woman in three years. I expect she’ll be powerful, formidable in her own right. And she’s already independent. Feisty. I told you, she’s not afraid to tell me to piss off now; can you imagine what she’s going to be like in three years?”

Buzan chuckled. “I’ll probably want her more.”

“Knowing you, you just might.” Zel smiled.

“In the meantime, since I’m going to be spending a lot of time at the Nexis with you…”

“Yes?”

“Might I have your consent to… How should I put this? Well, to be me… with her… with the utmost respect and without taking her as a male takes a female, of course.”

“Be you?” Zel looked at him with raised brows. “You mean drive her absolutely wild with your charms like you do every female you simply take a moment to gaze upon?”

Buzan shrugged but couldn’t conceal his grin.

“Yes, you have my consent.” Zel shook his head. “The poor girl isn’t going stand a chance.”

#

The following day, Zel and Amora left to go to the Nexis. Miadreena stayed behind, said she had her own means of travel and would arrive before them. Zel didn’t ask how. When it came to Myara, he just accepted that they had their ways.

The road out of Port Leyla was wide and well-trod, and rays of morning sunshine bathed the meadowed lands it ran through. Leyal led the group, followed by Zel and Amora who walked side by side, and trailed by Kitten who was guarding the rear. Zel held the reins of a new horse to his left, one complete with custom saddlebags Essy and Bubo were already enjoying.

Before they traveled north, Zel snuck into Veyforge hoping Luther might give him a set of armor in exchange for the armor and weapons he’d given him from the bandit job. It turned out Luther made a small fortune selling the weapons, and also said the leather from the armor would last a year or more. So, he surprised Zel by, not only giving him new armor, but also a horse, new custom saddlebags, and a vow to always have new armor and saddlebags available for him anytime he returned to Veyforge, free of charge.

Luther also assured him that Peela’s mother received the coin he’d intended for her. Zel knew it would do nothing to ease the pain of losing her daughter, but maybe it would ease her financial burdens, at least for a while.

That bandit job would definitely be among the most memorable of his life – though not only for the loss of Peela, but also for being the job that ended in him gaining a daughter. He looked at Amora walking next to him. She had her honey brown hair up in a high ponytail. It was the first time he’d seen her with her hair back and it made her look young. The corners of his mouth turned up. Then a thought struck him. “I have a question, my girl.”

She looked up at him.

“Did you know? With your ability, with the seer’s gift, did you ever know or suspect we were connected, that we were supposed to be together?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t. But I knew you were safe, from the first time we met when I was a little girl, to when I woke and saw you sitting in front of me at Delphine’s, you simply felt like safety to me. You still do. It’s why I never fear you.” She cocked her head and smiled. “Even when you get all growly.”

He let out a chuckle, then a small growl.

She rolled her eyes, but kept smiling all the while. “Speaking of knowing or suspecting, you had a deer’s head etched into the stone in that dagger we used together when I was young. You told me you did it because you felt compelled to. Do you think you knew, that maybe a part of you knew?”

“No, nothing like that. I just… something in me wanted to always remember that night.”

“I’d bet all of it was due to my mother’s spell or the Keeper ritual or both.”

He nodded. “You may be right.”

“Of course, I’m right. I know everything, remember?” The sunlight caught the flecks in her twinkling eyes.

“Not everything.” Zel grinned impishly.

“What? What don’t I know?”

He pulled his favorite dagger from its holster and held it up. “Where this came from.”

“Where?” Her eyes narrowed on it.

“It was a gift from your father back when I was awarded my first command.” She looked from the dagger to him with raised brows. He handed it to her.

“I didn’t know that.” Her voice pitched up.

“So, you’re only a want-to-be frustrating know-it-all, not actually a frustrating know-it-all?”

“Frustrating know-it-all!” She feigned outrage and poked at him with the dagger. He dodged. “Well, you’re prickly and short-tempered.”

“Is that so?” He dodged another attempted poke with the dagger.

“It is,” she confirmed with a decisive nod.

“And you’re about to travel across half of Ley Lanna alone with me?” He cocked his head and held his hand out.

“Well, maybe I like prickly and short-tempered,” she said haughtily as she handed him the dagger.

“Do you now?”

She shrugged, grinning.

He gave her a sideways glance. “Well, maybe I like a frustrating know-it-all.” His eyes crinkled with his smile.