Lord of the Fading Lands
Page 28
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"Sariel," Rain whispered sadly. He'd woven the memories many times. He was a master of Spirit. To any other onlooker, Sariel would have seemed whole and alive and real, but Rain held the weave, and he knew—he always knew—she was an illusion. He'd managed to pretend otherwise, but no longer. The slender arms that rose to embrace him seemed hollow and faded, and when he reached out to her, his hand passed through the weave.
He would have wept if he still had tears within him. "I don't want to lose you, e'tani.”
Sariel smiled and shook her head. She bent to kiss him, but when he tilted back his head to meet her lips, the Spirit weave dissolved. Sariel faded into mist. Rain groaned and buried his face in his hands. Not even with a kiss to a phantom love could he betray his shei'tani.
"Your magic knows you belong to another, even if your heart still rebels.”
Rain lifted his head. Marissya stood at the entrance to the chamber. Dax was at her side, while her quintet stood guard a bit further away. Marissya was watching Rain with a strange mix of compassion and irritation. The truemate in her disliked that he'd even attempted to betray his bond with a kiss to his lost love, while the empath in her understood why he did.
"We all loved Sariel, Rain," Marissya continued, "but you must let her go. Your shei'tani will never accept you so long as you cling to the memory of another.”
"I know that without your scolding." Her reprimand stung, even more because it was deserved. He rose to his feet.
"I am glad to hear it. I wasn't certain you were thinking clearly. Kieran told me you shared your torment with your shei'tani.”
Kieran had a flapping tongue. "She tried to leave her home unescorted. Truemated to the Tairen Soul, and she tried to wander Celierian streets alone—at night! She even refused to believe her life might be in danger. Did Kieran tell you that, too?”
One cool brown brow rose. "He merely suggested you might need my help weaving control over your emotions. It appears he was right.”
Rain's lips compressed. To argue would only prove her point.
Marissya sighed, and her expression softened. "The gods weave as the gods will, Rain. And even though it may not be apparent at first, they do weave purpose into all things. Even terrible things. Sariel's death was a devastating loss, but all this time I believed it was the price the gods demanded for the end of the Wars. That was the only pattern I saw in the weave … until today, when a Celierian girl called a tairen from the sky.”
"What are you suggesting?”
"The tairen and the Fey are dying. You are the last bridge between our two species. You told me the Eye of Truth sent you here, to Celieria, to find our salvation. We both know it can be no coincidence that Ellysetta is your truemate. Somehow, she is the key to saving us all. Though we've yet to see her power, it must be vast. She could never have called your soul if she were not your equal in every way. We also both know she could never have called you if you were still bound to another—even if that bond was only e'tanitsa, as it was between you and Sariel." Her hands closed over his, and cool, calming threads of empathy and healing stroked across his battered emotions. "You've seen the pattern, too, Rain. No matter how badly you want to deny it. Sariel had to die so Ellysetta could be born to save us.”
Rain pulled free of her grasp and turned away.
"You must not blame Ellysetta," Marissya continued. "She is an innocent. She is the soul the gods shaped to save the tairen and the Fey" She circled round him, relentless. "And you, Rain, are the soul the gods shaped to protect her and bring her safely back to us so she can fulfill her purpose. You cannot shirk your duty, not to the tairen, not to the Fey, and definitely not to your truemate. Set aside your longings for what used to be. Embrace Ellysetta in your heart as well as your soul so you can win her trust and her bond and help her discover her strength. Because, Rain, one other thing seems certain to me." The shei'dalin's eyes grew dark with portent. "Whatever task the gods have set before Ellysetta Baristani, it is fearfully dangerous. Else she'd not need a tairen to protect her soul."
Far away to the northeast in the heart of the Elden wilderness, the subterranean palace of Boura Fell, seat of the High Mage Vadim Maur, lay buried deep in the earth, masterfully shielded from Fey senses and Fey magic by rock, soil, and wards worked from the darkest Elden wizardry. The massive complex stretched for miles beneath the surface, one of many similar fortresses hidden throughout Eld. For nearly a thousand years, the network of underground palaces had survived, thrived even, undetected and steadily growing in strength and number, like a cancer quietly spreading its deadly tentacles beneath the skin of a seemingly healthy man.
High Mage Vadim Maur, leader of the High Council of Mages and uncrowned ruler of Eld, sat at his massive desk and pondered the news from his apprentice in Celieria. Around him, sconces flickered with Fire, lighting the dark, windowless cavern of his study with a pale yellow glow, illuminating the numerous bookcases that held priceless ancient texts and centuries' worth of notes on his experiments.
Rain Tairen Soul had a truemate. A truemate with red hair and green eyes, so suspiciously like the child stolen years ago.
Vadim sat back in his chair and steepled his hands beneath his chin. Suspicion was not certainty, and not enough to make him tip his hand. Not yet, at least. There were two hundred Fey in Celieria City … too many to confront lightly even without the substantial added might of the Tairen Soul. Vadim had not won and held his grip on the High Council of Mages through the blundering application of brute force. He was a man who believed in choosing his battles … and in preparing his battlefield.
He would have wept if he still had tears within him. "I don't want to lose you, e'tani.”
Sariel smiled and shook her head. She bent to kiss him, but when he tilted back his head to meet her lips, the Spirit weave dissolved. Sariel faded into mist. Rain groaned and buried his face in his hands. Not even with a kiss to a phantom love could he betray his shei'tani.
"Your magic knows you belong to another, even if your heart still rebels.”
Rain lifted his head. Marissya stood at the entrance to the chamber. Dax was at her side, while her quintet stood guard a bit further away. Marissya was watching Rain with a strange mix of compassion and irritation. The truemate in her disliked that he'd even attempted to betray his bond with a kiss to his lost love, while the empath in her understood why he did.
"We all loved Sariel, Rain," Marissya continued, "but you must let her go. Your shei'tani will never accept you so long as you cling to the memory of another.”
"I know that without your scolding." Her reprimand stung, even more because it was deserved. He rose to his feet.
"I am glad to hear it. I wasn't certain you were thinking clearly. Kieran told me you shared your torment with your shei'tani.”
Kieran had a flapping tongue. "She tried to leave her home unescorted. Truemated to the Tairen Soul, and she tried to wander Celierian streets alone—at night! She even refused to believe her life might be in danger. Did Kieran tell you that, too?”
One cool brown brow rose. "He merely suggested you might need my help weaving control over your emotions. It appears he was right.”
Rain's lips compressed. To argue would only prove her point.
Marissya sighed, and her expression softened. "The gods weave as the gods will, Rain. And even though it may not be apparent at first, they do weave purpose into all things. Even terrible things. Sariel's death was a devastating loss, but all this time I believed it was the price the gods demanded for the end of the Wars. That was the only pattern I saw in the weave … until today, when a Celierian girl called a tairen from the sky.”
"What are you suggesting?”
"The tairen and the Fey are dying. You are the last bridge between our two species. You told me the Eye of Truth sent you here, to Celieria, to find our salvation. We both know it can be no coincidence that Ellysetta is your truemate. Somehow, she is the key to saving us all. Though we've yet to see her power, it must be vast. She could never have called your soul if she were not your equal in every way. We also both know she could never have called you if you were still bound to another—even if that bond was only e'tanitsa, as it was between you and Sariel." Her hands closed over his, and cool, calming threads of empathy and healing stroked across his battered emotions. "You've seen the pattern, too, Rain. No matter how badly you want to deny it. Sariel had to die so Ellysetta could be born to save us.”
Rain pulled free of her grasp and turned away.
"You must not blame Ellysetta," Marissya continued. "She is an innocent. She is the soul the gods shaped to save the tairen and the Fey" She circled round him, relentless. "And you, Rain, are the soul the gods shaped to protect her and bring her safely back to us so she can fulfill her purpose. You cannot shirk your duty, not to the tairen, not to the Fey, and definitely not to your truemate. Set aside your longings for what used to be. Embrace Ellysetta in your heart as well as your soul so you can win her trust and her bond and help her discover her strength. Because, Rain, one other thing seems certain to me." The shei'dalin's eyes grew dark with portent. "Whatever task the gods have set before Ellysetta Baristani, it is fearfully dangerous. Else she'd not need a tairen to protect her soul."
Far away to the northeast in the heart of the Elden wilderness, the subterranean palace of Boura Fell, seat of the High Mage Vadim Maur, lay buried deep in the earth, masterfully shielded from Fey senses and Fey magic by rock, soil, and wards worked from the darkest Elden wizardry. The massive complex stretched for miles beneath the surface, one of many similar fortresses hidden throughout Eld. For nearly a thousand years, the network of underground palaces had survived, thrived even, undetected and steadily growing in strength and number, like a cancer quietly spreading its deadly tentacles beneath the skin of a seemingly healthy man.
High Mage Vadim Maur, leader of the High Council of Mages and uncrowned ruler of Eld, sat at his massive desk and pondered the news from his apprentice in Celieria. Around him, sconces flickered with Fire, lighting the dark, windowless cavern of his study with a pale yellow glow, illuminating the numerous bookcases that held priceless ancient texts and centuries' worth of notes on his experiments.
Rain Tairen Soul had a truemate. A truemate with red hair and green eyes, so suspiciously like the child stolen years ago.
Vadim sat back in his chair and steepled his hands beneath his chin. Suspicion was not certainty, and not enough to make him tip his hand. Not yet, at least. There were two hundred Fey in Celieria City … too many to confront lightly even without the substantial added might of the Tairen Soul. Vadim had not won and held his grip on the High Council of Mages through the blundering application of brute force. He was a man who believed in choosing his battles … and in preparing his battlefield.
