208
The crystal glowed blue. It was really the only emotion that Pippa could use that would make the crystal react; all she had to do was think about her Uncle Hershel.
She sat cross-legged in the corner of the tent. Her mother had fallen asleep in the chair; she had a long day, Pip knew. Syn had traveled to a far village and back, which always wore her out. Baffa was snoozing by the fire, since Syn wasn't awake to make him go back outside.
No one had witnessed the crystal's change from clear to blue. It was the first time Pip had ever been able to make it change; all Uncle Hershel had ever taught her was to get it to float perfectly over her hand. Of course, it didn't last long, because her excitement at achieving the change ruined the blue color. Now she had finally gotten it to work again, and the fact that there wasn't even anyone to be proud of her made her even sadder.
The crystal bobbed slightly, and Pippa tried to make it turn red. She tried to think of something that made her angry. The first thing that came to mind was Imgloss, and she scowled at the memory. The blue began to fade, but thinking of Imgloss made her think of Hershel which just made her feel sad all over again.
"No armed charge tonight, Fluff?"
She looked up with a start, the crystal falling to her hand as her concentration was broken. "Dad!"
She grinned at Tolan from his place by the door, and he smiled in return. His eyes rested on the item on her hand. "What's that?"
Her heart immediately began to pound, and she shrugged as she looked back down at it."Just an aura crystal…"
Tolan came over and set a bunch of things on the table. "Where did you get it?"
Pippa put her necklace back on quickly. "Um…"
"I can assume where you got it, actually," Tolan pointed out with a stern expression. "Does Hershel know you have that?"
"He gave it to me," Pippa said defensively as she pushed herself to her feet.
"When?"
"A while ago," she countered, though it wasn't quite true. "So I could practice on my own."
Tolan didn't look like he believed her, and Pippa came over.
"What is all this stuff?"
"Leather. I was thinking you could help me make sheaths for the weapons I've been making."
Pippa leaned on the table, her eyes flicking over the material on the. "Oh."
Tolan stared at her, frowning. "You could do it; you made that bag thing you always carry around."
"My healer's satchel," she reminded. Her father's expression flickered with something, but she wasn't really paying attention as she poked at the leather. "I dunno if I wanna make sheaths. That sounds boring."
He scoffed, gathering up the material to put over in the corner. "You already stopped coming to the forge…you need to learn some part of the trade," he argued.
"Cuz the forge is boring." Pippa moved to shoo Baffa out of the tent; she could see her mom waking up and she didn't really want to get in trouble for having her sniffer inside again. Unfortunately, Baffa woke up slower than Syn did.
"Pippa…what is he doing in here?" Syn asked, and Pippa threw her mother a sheepish look.
"I'm getting him out! He was just lonely and cold out there. It's cold in the North."
"He's got a coat of fur; he'll be fine," Tolan cut in dryly. His arms were folded as he fixed his daughter with a stern expression. Syn stood and stretched, noticing her husband's expression.
"Everything alright?"
"Fluff thinks she's above weaponry," he muttered, and Syn couldn't help but smile as Pippa put her hands on her hips.
"I don't wanna make swords. I just wanna fight with them."
"You can't tell me that making crystals float around and looking for leaves under rocks is more interesting than making weapons," Tolan argued, and Pippa shrugged.
"I'm gonna be a healer. Like Un…like Mom."
She tried to cover up her faux pas, but it didn't seem to slip her parent's attention. Tolan narrowed his eyes and her mother looked sad. Pippa finally stamped one foot. She had tried not to mention her Uncle since moving up here, but she was tired of dancing around the subject. She looked up to meet her father's eye full on. "When can I go visit Uncle Hershel?"
Her parents both seemed surprised, but her father's expression darkened. "I already told you, Fluff. He's got stuff he has to work out…"
"Maybe he's already done," she argued, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Or maybe he needs us to visit so we can help him out. He's gonna be so lonely, if we never go."
"I said no, Fluff." Tolan marched over to where he put the leather, pulling out a piece. She should have let it go, but instead the six-year-old pouted.
"You could come with me!" she pointed out. "If you don't want me going all the way down there alone…"
"Pippa."
Tolan's voice had taken on an edge, and Pippa stiffened. She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Syn smiling sadly down at her.
"We need to give him some more time," her mother explained softly. "He'll be ok, Pip."
The child looked away, her hand grabbing the crystal hanging around her neck. I'll keep practicing she thought to herself, not feeling like she could say her thoughts out loud anymore. I'll get good at all the colors…and when I show you, you'll be so impressed with me. Once I can finally see you again.
Amber sniffed again, her head buried into her pillow. It was a rare moment that she was in the room and Dani wasn't, and she was taking advantage of it by finally letting herself process what would be happening in the next week. M. was leaving. For good…or, for two years at least. But it might as well have been forever. She didn't know where she would be in two years! So much had happened in the last six months that she would have never expected, how could she believe with any confidence that she would be able to see her friend again after his travels?
The door opened and Amber froze. She hoped that Dani would just think she was asleep…
"Amber?"
She tried to muffle her shaky inhale, but musicians tended to have good hearing.
"Oh, Amber…" Dani came over and sat next to where Amber was crying face down into her pillow. "We're gonna miss him too; so many dancing digs that will go to waste now that I won't have a target…" she tried. Amber finally turned to look at her friend, though she was sure that her face was a puffy mess.
"He didn't even tell me," she pointed out with a sniffle, and Dani gave her a sad half-smile.
"Yeah, that was pretty bogus of him."
They fell silent as Amber snuffled a little more, the tears finally dying down.
"He was my first friend," the Oni finally confided softly. If it had been someone else, she would have worried that Dani would feel jealous or hurt to have Amber talk about another friend. But Dani really was one of those rare humans that tended to feel the way you needed them to, and all she picked up from the bespeckled girl was sympathy.
"You just had to train him to be nice first," Dani remembered with a smile, and Amber sat up so she was sitting next to her roommate.
"I never had a friend…a real friend…before M. And he can be such a hoofer-brain sometimes, but I don't want him to leave. Everything was finally back to normal—the way that it was supposed to be."
"Why is he doing this whole traveling thing anyways?"
Amber bit her lip. "He doesn't want to be a dancer. Or, maybe he does, but he doesn't want to just do it by default. So he's going to go tour the realm with his Grandfather and hopefully figure out what he wants to do with his life."
"My parents would say that's a waste of time," Dani mentioned, and Amber pulled her feet up on the bed so she could hug her knees to her chest.
"I think it will be good for him," she admitted. "Make him feel less trapped. I just wish it wasn't for so long."
"Two years is a really long time," Dani pointed out, swinging her own legs. "It's kind of weird to think about it. Where will we be in two years…you know? You could already be rich and famous, with all that talent of yours."
Amber smiled weakly. "Hardly. Besides, I have to graduate first, before I can really do anything with dancing."
"You could totally start performing while still in school; tons of people do that. Hey…speaking of graduation…"
Amber looked over, and Dani grinned.
"Openheimer said he still has to graduate, yeah? That means that when he gets back, you'll be on the same schedule."
Amber wiped her cheek.
"What do you mean?"
"You're two years behind him. He takes two years off, and suddenly you're in the same classes. Then you'll graduate at the same time."
Amber thought about that, but then she shook her head. "I dunno; Marty III started me above my age group already…and I have to do a lot of this semester over again."
"Mmm…well, either way, you'll still have a few years of school together when he finally gets over his wanderlust and gets his butt back here."
Amber offered a weak smile, but no doubt Dani saw through it because the pianist gave her a hug from the side.
"It's ok to be sad," Dani offered softly. "When June was sick, she had to travel to this specialist who was super far away. I didn't see much of her for three months…which I get isn't nearly as long as two years. But it was still really hard, so I know that it's not really helpful for people to tell you to look on the bright side."
Amber wiped her face again, leaning into her friend.
"Sometimes it feels like nothing ever goes right," she whispered sadly. "Like every time something great happens, it has to be followed by something awful."
"'Life's the dirty monster that teaches you to fly, then clips your wings and grounds your dreams before you reach the sky.'"
Amber looked over in surprise and Dani gave her a sheepish grin.
"Cray-Z lyrics," she admitted. "One of their new singles…"
"Reggie really knows what he's talking about," Amber decided, and Dani shrugged.
"Jaded Mask actually writes the lyrics to most of their songs; Reggie's drumming just gives them life."
Amber couldn't help but chuckle at that, and Dani joined in. It felt good to laugh, Amber decided. Even if laughter didn't completely take away the sadness…it definitely helped.
"Tolan's out on patrol today and I already agreed to help a village in the North. You said you were in the tent today…can you please watch her?"
Syn's voice was pleading, and the young infant in her arms babbled as she looked around at the various colorful and shiny items in the tent.
"I…suppose…"
Hershel's answer had been hesitant, but his sister flashed him a grateful smile as she handed him the child. Pippa squealed in annoyance at the fact that she was no longer in her mother's arms, and Syn gave her daughter a quick kiss on her fluffy head.
"You'll be fine, Pippa," she cooed softly. Then she handed Hershel a bag. "This should have everything she may need. I'll be back before sunset, I promise."
Pippa screeched as her mother disappeared out the door, and Hershel looked down at the squirming bundle. She was already so much bigger than she had been last he had seen her. He realized with a pang that she was growing up fast, and considering that his sister didn't visit often anymore, he wasn't getting to see it.
He shifted the baby so that she was facing him, rather than the empty doorway, and began bouncing her in his arms.
"You look just like your mom, you know," he murmured to her. "When Syn was a baby. Hopefully, you have more of an appetite, though. I had the hardest time getting her to eat."
He hadn't thought Pip would calm down very quickly; he knew children at this age cried at most everything. But to his surprise, the curly-headed ten-month-old stopped crying at the sound of his soft voice. He smiled at her, and after a moment she smiled back, showing off a few small teeth.
"You didn't have those last I saw you," he pointed out, looking closely at the small white dots in her gums. They looked healthy, and he gave them an approving nod. "You've been doing well for yourself, haven't you, Pip?"
She giggled and then began stretching her hands to the floor as she grunted. Hershel lowered her to the floor, and Pippa immediately began crawling away. He watched her with a smile.
"What am I supposed to do with you?" he demanded. "I'm supposed to be spending today prepping herbs and poultices."
Pippa reached the scroll cubbies and immediately pulled herself up to her feet, helping herself to the scrolls that she could reach. She had pulled several out by the time Hershel had reached her, scooping her up.
"Oh, no you don't…"
She screamed angrily, but he fixed her with a stern look.
"Can't have you playing with those; some of them are thousands of years old," he chided. He took her over by the fireplace and sank into one of the chairs, holding her on his lap. She was still screeching and crying, turning with her hands outstretched to the scrolls that she had been having such a good time with. Hershel thought for a moment before grabbing something off the nearby table.
"Pippa…" he tried, but she ignored him. He bounced her a little and she finally turned, still blubbering. However, her crying stopped and her eyes widened as she caught sight of the floating crystal. Hershel couldn't help but smile.
"Pretty, huh?" he murmured. "Syn liked shiny stuff too. Wish I would have had a good distraction like this, back in the day. I mainly had to rely on sparkly rocks and stuff like that."
Pippa didn't answer, as he didn't think she would. Her little hands immediately went to touch the crystal, and it fell into his palm.
"Can't touch the aura," he chided softly. "But you can look at this, if you'd like."
He handed her the crystal, and Pippa babbled as she held it in her hands. She turned it over again and again and finally stuffed it in her mouth, chewing on it with her few little teeth.
"Not quite an effective way to use that," he pointed out, but he finally picked her back up and carried her over to the kitchen table. He sat her on the table, where she seemed content to chew on the crystal. He pulled out his pestle and mortar and began filling it with a few different herbs.
"Yew plant and Cyran Seed make a good poultice," he said, and the infant looked up as he spoke. There was no way she could understand, being as young as she was…but he had to admit that it was nice to have someone to talk to. Even if she was making a puddle of drool on the table. "The trick is to use more yew plant than cyran seed. You can also boil cyran seed in a tea, but you have to make sure to take the seeds out afterward. They're pretty potent; you shouldn't ever eat this poultice. It's supposed to be put on bruises."
"Daaaaaaaaa," Pippa responded. She began smacking the aural crystal against the table.
"Not really a cure. But it helps with the swelling and the symptoms."
He finished grinding and pulled out his half-filled bottle to dump the contents in. There was a crash as Pippa launched the aural crystal into Hershel's cookware, and she clapped and kicked her legs as if she were proud of the fact that she made her Uncle jump. Luckily he had finished dumping in the contents and he shook his head at the giggling infant.
"You're going to be a trouble-maker, aren't you?" he asked. Pippa crawled over to him, holding her hands out to be picked up again. He did so, and she continued to babble as she reached up and yanked on his hair.
"Ow….careful, Pip," he chided, pulling her away from her face. She just laughed, kicking her feet happily. Such a carefree little thing; he mused. "Now…what on earth am I going to do with you till sunset?"
Pippa didn't answer, though she had caught sight of something else that intrigued her. Her hands slapped the tattoos around his forearms.
"Waawaaaawaaaaaa…."
She looked up at him and he gave her a tight smile.
"Healer tattoos," he murmured by way of explanation. She looked down and gave them another two pats for good measure. Hershel tried to think of something else he could give her that would consume her attention enough for him to get more work done. His eyes came to rest on the scrolls on the ground.
Pippa squirmed a little as he positioned her on his lap, opening the map up so she could see it. The picture had the desired effect; her eyes grew large as she patted the old parchment.
"Uhhhhhhh!"
"It's the first realm," he explained softly. "See that tent there? That's where we are. The cheeky old Ancient that drew this put his tent in the very center. How's that for self-centered?"
Pippa laughed, and Hershel couldn't help but smile. She hadn't understood the joke…but he enjoyed making her laugh just the same.
"This is the Central fortress," he continued, his finger brushing another marking on the map. "That's where Keyda and Cole live with their two kids. I know you've met them before…Theo's the one who carried you around everywhere and Amber's the one who pulled you out after you crawled into that well…" He shuddered a little at the memory, bouncing her. "I'm glad you weren't hurt. It wasn't deep, and she fished you out quickly."
Pippa had stuffed a fist into her mouth, sucking on it noisily.
"And these are the other provinces. West…South…East…" here he paused, his expression flickering with memories as he finally pointed at the last fortress on the map. "and North. Maybe someday, you'll meet the people who live there."
He glanced down to see if Pippa was still listening. Her eyes were dropping as she sucked on her fist, but he could tell that she was looking at the opposite side of the map. He followed her gaze.
"That's dragon territory," he explained. "There's a union that keeps us safe; Dragons and Oni aren't at war anymore. But we still keep a wide berth around each other. I'm not sure if we'll ever truly be united. Maybe when you're all grown up."
Pippa had leaned her head back against him, curling in on herself as she fell asleep. Hershel looked down in surprise; but then his expression softened as he pulled her close. It was the perfect opportunity to get some work done while she napped, but even knowing that, he found that he didn't want to move. So he sat there and held her close for an hour or so as the baby dreamed on.
The dream faded to black, and Hershel was aware of himself again. It had been a dream…a revisited memory. His heart ached at the thought of his niece; it had only been a few weeks, but he missed having her bright smile around.
The blackness in his mind continued, and Hershel shivered. The dream was over; he should be waking up….
NO!
A scream pierced the blackness and his heart pounded in fear. A feeling filled him now; the same feeling he had when he had seen Syn and Tolan talk about leaving. That feeling of foggy reality. This differed from a dream or a memory…there were emotions swirling around him. Fear, mainly…so much fear…
The scream echoed again and suddenly he could see someone plummeting past him, the darkness becoming a gaping tunnel that swallowed the small figure whole while she shrieked. A fire lit inside as Hershel finally managed to scream out.
"PIPPA!"
He bolted awake, drenched in a cold sweat. He tried to push it off; it had been a dream. It was just a dream. But his power wouldn't relax, racing through his blood. This was no dream, it urged. This was real. He needed to do something…Pippa was in trouble. It didn't make any sense, but the vision was true. He knew it was true.
He only hesitated a moment longer before flashing out of his tent.
209
"She's always wanted to be a healer, Tol," Syn pointed out. The fire was crackling as her husband stared into it, seemingly lost in thought. Pippa was asleep in the back room.
"I just thought maybe she'd want to explore other occupations," the ex-guard muttered, poking at the fire with a stick. Sparks danced in the fireplace, and Syn sipped her tea silently while he brooded. "She enjoys fighting, and she's good at it. Even if she doesn't want to make weapons, she'd make a fine guard, or warrior. I don't want her to have such limited views at six."
Syn frowned. "You've never had a problem with it before," she pointed out. "I thought we were going to let her be whatever she wanted to be."
"We are," Tolan muttered, giving the fire one last angry poke. "But she's less than a decade old; she doesn't even know what she wants. Children change their minds all the time!"
"So maybe she'll change her mind," Syn pointed out softly. She searched her husband's face. "Is something wrong, Tolan?"
"Nothing's wrong. I just wish Pippa would be open to more ideas…and not set her heart on things so early. Life has a way of disappointing you."
He retreated from the fire so he could sit in the chair next to Syn, and she reached out to grab his arm.
"Life didn't disappoint me," she pointed out with a soft smile. "You seem to be in a cynical mood tonight."
Tolan didn't answer, and she squeezed his arm.
"Everything alright at the forge?"
"Everything's great," he offered, pushing his hair out of his face. "My weapons are only getting better, now that I've gotten back into my groove. Made another dagger now, and a broadsword."
"That's good, then. Are they selling as well as you'd hoped?"
"Haven't taken them to market yet, but they should do well."
"Then what's eating at you?" she asked, and he shrugged.
"You know…I'd hoped to make some personal weapons," he finally admitted softly. "Maybe a new short sword for Pip…some back up katanas. A healer's dagger for you." He sighed. "The irony is, I can make those weapons, but I can't seem to afford to keep them."
"What do you mean?"
Tolan's voice was bitter as he glowered at the dancing flames. "The idiot who runs the forge buys the materials for me to make the weapons, but he won't let me buy my own weapons at the price he got the materials. He demands that I buy the weapons at market value if I'm going to keep them. And…given the quality…it seems that they're a little more than I can afford."
His final words were a growl, and Syn's frown deepened. "You can't buy your own materials? Then he wouldn't be the one paying for any of it."
"He says he won't let me use the forge for personal projects. We had a bit of a…misunderstanding today." Tolan glanced over as Syn's eyes widened. "Don't worry, I kept my temper. Barely. But it's so frustrating."
"Maybe we should find another forge," Syn offered. "Or make our own."
She trailed off as Tolan shook his head.
"Nah. I've been looking, Syn. And building a forge would cost far more than the number of weapons I would want to make in it."
The healer didn't know what to say to that, and Tolan sighed before grabbing her hand with his own.
"It's fine, Syn. I knew that this is what would probably end up happening if I chose this line of work."
"It doesn't seem fair," she pointed out softly, and he shrugged.
"Life's not fair," he said. Syn leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.
"Well…you still have me and Pip," she pointed out with a smile. "Which…I remember you saying was all you ever needed."
Tolan finally smiled, and Syn felt a rush of relief as he leaned in to kiss her. She kissed him back, the only sound in the room the crackling fire. There was a pop, which Syn assumed was a burst of sparks from the nearby blaze. But then the entire tent filled with light.
Syn flew back. Tolan turned towards the backroom in time to see the light fade.
"What…" Syn breathed, but Tolan had already reached the shelf where he kept his katanas. Rather than reach for a weapon of her own, Syn immediately ran to the back of the tent.
"Syn!" Tolan's voice was full of warning, and he was right behind her as they burst into the back together. Pippa was still lying on her mat, sound asleep despite the light and the noise. However, Syn's heart jumped to her throat when she saw the pale figure kneeling next to her.
"Hershel?" Her words were barely audible, but Tolan immediately pushed past her to point his weapon at the familiar intruder.
"Get away from her."The ex-guard's voice was low and dangerous, and Hershel's expression flickered with both anger and confusion. When he didn't move, Tolan took another threatening step forward, but Syn grabbed her husband's arm and forced him to lower his weapon. He did…but only a few inches.
"Hersh…what are you doing here?" she whispered. She didn't want to wake Pippa. There was no doubt the child would be excited to see her Uncle, but it would just make everything that much more complicated if she saw him. And…it was unnerving, having Hershel show up like this. If he needed something, why didn't he come to them? Why had he gone for Pippa?
"Pippa was in trouble," Hershel finally murmured, and Syn's heart clenched. What did that even mean? She felt Tolan stiffen.
"You aren't welcome here," her husband pointed out, and Hershel's eyes flashed again. Syn's heart pounded; she hated the look on his face when that happened. He didn't even look like her brother when his eyes were full of light like that. Realizing that the situation was just going to escalate further, she released her husband's arm and moved to go closer to where Hershel was kneeling.
"Syn…" Tolan hissed, and she turned to hold up a hand for him to calm down.
"I'm fine," she countered. "Now quiet…you'll wake Pip."
Tol clearly wasn't happy about her going to talk with Hershel, and she knew it. But at the mention of Pippa, Tolan relaxed a little. Syn reached Hershel, and she was glad to see that the light had faded from his eyes. Now he just looked dazed. Taking a breath, she grabbed his arm and was relieved when he allowed her to pull him to his feet. Syn hoped that Hershel wouldn't notice that she was trembling as she removed them both from the tent.
Once they were outside, Hershel finally pulled from her grasp. His pale hair and skin glowed in the moonlight, making him look like some otherworldly creature.
"What are you doing here?" she asked again, and he sighed.
"Pip was in trouble," he repeated, gesturing with his hands in confusion. "I…I saw her falling. She was screaming and…"
"Pippa is fine," Syn pointed out. She hugged herself; the breeze was blowing, and the North really was freezing at night. "You saw her sleeping in there."
Hershel's expression suddenly became desperate…his tone pleading. Like he was begging her to understand. "But I saw her…"
"It was a nightmare, Hershel." She hadn't even thought about it until the words came blurting out, but suddenly everything made sense. Her brother had a nightmare, and in his panic, he had transported here to check on Pippa. But Hershel was shaking his head.
"No, Syn. It wasn't just a nightmare. You don't understand…"
She grabbed his arms, trying to calm him down. In part, so that he would stop looking so confused and terrified…and in part because she wasn't sure how he would react if he started to panic.
"You're safe, Hersh," she tried comfortingly, the same way she had when he had suffered from night terrors growing up. "Pippa's safe. You had a nightmare, but it wasn't real. It's ok."
He relaxed somewhat, but then his expression hardened. "But it was real."
Syn scanned his face, trying to figure out why he was acting like this. It's the power… she realized. It's making him like this…
"Hershel…"
"I know nightmares, Syn. I know dreams, and memories. But this wasn't a nightmare. This was something different."
"Different how?" she demanded. She was concerned now, wishing desperately that her brother would come to his senses. That he would go home. Instead, he kept a hold of her arms.
"Sometimes, I…I can see things…"
Her brow furrowed in confusion, and Hershel cursed under his breath.
"I know it sounds crazy, Syn…but I know what I saw earlier was real. Pippa really was falling; I could feel her terror. It was just like when I heard you and Tolan talking about moving up to the North…"
"What?" It came out as a horrified whisper. She didn't know what he was talking about anymore. Hershel winced, but then continued.
"That's how I knew you were moving. I heard your conversation…I heard you talk about how you needed a change of scene, and how you were going to leave me behind, and…"
She pulled from his grasp. "You were spying on us?" she hissed, feeling betrayed. Hershel groaned, grabbing his head.
"No…I didn't mean to see it. But I did…and I knew it was real. It's so hard to explain, but I can tell which scenes are fake and real, and this scene with Pippa was real."
"I don't know what you're talking about," She pointed out. She was shaking harder now, but it was hard to know whether it was from the cold or fear. "Hershel you aren't making sense."
"I'm trying," he promised. "Syn…Pippa's in danger. I don't know how or why, but…"
"Pippa is fine," she argued back. "Hershel, you're the one who's acting strange! If anything…"
"I need to be here, to make sure she's ok. To make sure that what I saw doesn't…"
"That's not going to happen." Her words were stern now, louder. Hershel's words died in his throat, and Syn finally sighed. "Hershel, you know that isn't going to happen. Pippa is fine…and it's clear that you still need some time to figure things out."
He looked taken aback. "Syn…I'm not trying to scare you," he finally tried. "I'm trying to protect you and Pippa…and even Tolan. And I'm figuring things out; I've been training with…"
"This does not look like figuring things out!" Syn hissed, gesturing to him. "You show up here in the middle of the night talking about dreams being real…Hershel it's not like you. This isn't control!"
"Syn…"
"When you have control, you can see Pippa. But…I can't let you in there. Not like this."
Hershel clenched his fists, and Syn took a step back.
"You might not be trying to scare me…but you are, Hersh."
He froze, and she could see him battling internally again. She bit her lip, waiting to see what he would decide. When he finally spoke, he sounded calm…like himself. "What I saw, Syn…"
"…Was just a dream," she promised. "Pippa's fine."
He still didn't seem so sure, and she sighed. She was shivering now as she hugged herself, and he finally seemed to notice.
"We should go in where it's warmer…" he started, but Syn shook her head.
"You need to go home, Hershel."
He hesitated, and she felt a pang of guilt when she saw his expression.
"Tolan's had a short fuse lately," she explained softly. "He had a stressful day at work, and if you go in there now, he's not going to take it well."
Hershel's expression darkened, but he finally sighed. "Alright. Just…keep an eye on Pip."
With that, there was a flash. Syn winced at the brightness of the light, backing up a few steps. She blinked the stars from her vision as she glanced back, but her brother was gone. Something inside ached.
Tolan was waiting right by the door when she came in; she wouldn't be surprised if he had listened to the whole conversation.
"What did he want?" His tone was angry, and Syn sighed. She was exhausted.
"He had a nightmare…he thought Pippa was in trouble. He came to check on her."
Tolan glanced over at where their daughter was still snoozing. "Fluff's fine."
"I told him that," Syn assured, wrapping her arms around her tense husband. "He went home. It was just a false alarm."
Tolan didn't answer and she moved to kiss him.
"Coming to bed?" she murmured. He had to be just as exhausted as she was. He shook his head, but finally relaxed somewhat.
"I have to finish up some work…get those sheath's ready for when we go East tomorrow. You go on, though…you seem pretty beat."
Syn reached up to tug on his braid.
"If you're sure…"
He kissed her in reply, and she moved to lie down on the mat next to Pippa. Tolan left the room, but returned a few minutes later with his materials. Syn's brow furrowed as she laid on the mat and watched him work. She knew that he wouldn't go to sleep tonight, and not because he was worried about getting the sheaths done. Her eyelids drooped as she watched Tolan glance towards the doorway again and again, and the curly-headed healer couldn't help but pray that Hershel wouldn't be back tonight.
210
"You said yes?"
Theo was dumbstruck, and his father looked over sheepishly.
"Your mother thinks that we should just let him wander over and meet the dragons on his own," Cole explained. "But I don't really feel like patching up relations…with the dragons about his behavior and Ninjago when they learn Tobias went up in flame. So I said I'd go with him."
Theo sighed slowly and Cole finished washing his hands in the basin, shaking them out before reaching for a towel.
"It's not like you have to come, Theo…"
"I do have to come; that was the thing. He wanted me to go with him, and I said I wouldn't be able to unless you said yes."
"So…I was supposed to say no?" Cole raised his eyebrow and Theo slumped slightly.
"I dunno," he finally admitted, folding his arms. Cole seemed to be waiting for more of an answer, though. Theo cleared his throat before continuing. "It's just…I feel bad."
"About what?"
"About…shirking my responsibility. Making you do it for me."
Cole smiled then, coming over to ruffle his son's hair.
"You aren't shirking. It just turned out to be a two-person job…"
"With Ret and me, there were two people!"
"A three person job, then," Cole said with a laugh. Theo scowled as he tried to get his hair to lie flat again.
"So you're going with him, then? Today?"
"I didn't have time today. I told him that we could go near the end of the week."
Theo nodded to himself. "Alright. I'm coming too."
Cole looked surprised and his son huffed.
"I'm not as mean as you, you know. I won't leave you with him alone…" Theo added.
"Gee, that's the spirit," Cole joked, but then his smile faded. "Was it really as bad as all of that?"
Theo knew he had made his father feel guilty, and he winced. "Honestly he's just really annoying. It wasn't dangerous or anything. Well…until we went to the South. And even then…" he rubbed his head sheepishly. "…I guess there was a part of me that wanted to fight in the Pit. Prove that I could do it. Shoulda guessed that I couldn't."
Cole just smiled and patted Theo on the back.
"That's not something you need to be good at, Theo. Though…between you and me, Ottan did mention you were doing pretty well before Tobias got involved."
Theo glanced up then, and his father gave him a sheepish wink.
"Just don't tell your Mom I said that."
"Hey, watch it!"
Tolan didn't even respond to the man he had run into. His face was a mask of stone as he forced his way through the haggling crowds towards the stalls that would buy his weapons for the best price. He almost didn't come; Hershel's random appearance had left him shaking with rage and even fear. What did he want? Why was he after Pippa? But though he had nearly stayed home, Syn had convinced him to come to the markets today. Without this sale, they would be low on money for the next week. His wife assured him that Hershel had been spooked from a nightmare, but it still left the ex-guard jarred. He shoved another shopper out of the way, and the woman whirled on him. She was probably going to yell, but her words died when she caught sight of his expression.
He reached the stalls, searching for the man who had bought the dagger last week. He had expressed interest in future endeavors, and was as good a place as any to start…
"Theodynn the Heir?"
All around him, conversations mingled and jostled into a buzz of background noise. But this snippet caught Tolan's attention and he paused.
"Do you know any other Theodynns?" another voice answered dryly. Tolan searched and caught sight of the speakers; two old gossips pinching a variety of fruit at a small food stand to see which were ripe.
"I'm just surprised; you witnessed the fight yourself?"
"I happened to be in the South. Good day for it too; I was just expecting the usual thugs beating each other blue…but it was something else seeing royalty battle it out."
Tolan had frozen in place, and he was vaguely aware of people pushing around him and urging him to get out of the way.
"I didn't think the Rulers would let their precious little freak fight in the Pit…"
"Word is they didn't know. Ottan's in hot water…"
"How'd he do? The freak, I mean?"
"Eh…he held his own for a bit, but that other fellow didn't help much. Yellow, like the Ruler's partner…"
"Heard about him. Some kind of ambassador…"
"Embarrassment, more like. Got the poor prince knocked out cold."
Theo…in a pit fight? A feeling like heartburn flared up in his chest, and Tolan grimaced as he pressed on the part that tightened. The kid wasn't the greatest at hand to hand combat. Plus, Tolan knew better than anyone how Ottan stacked the odds against those he found interesting.
"He alright now?"
"No idea. Had to be carried out of the Pit…and no one's seen him since."
Here the woman's voice dropped conspiratorially, and Tolan found himself walking towards them.
"Rumor is that the poor freak died, and that's why no one's heard from him."
Tolan's grip tightened on his wares, but the other woman waved off her companion's thoughts.
"Nah…if he were dead, it would have spread around the whole realm. Plus, Ottan would have been executed by now."
"Pshhh…you know the Rulers are against executions."
"They'd make an exception, if anything happened to their precious little heir."
The women finally walked away, cackling. Tolan almost followed, but then someone called out his name.
"Tolan!" He turned to see his buyer waving him down from his stall. "Got more for me?"
The lanky man hesitated a moment before turning to head over to the weapon's stall.
"There's a lot about your powers that you don't understand yet…I don't know if you can rule anything out."
Hershel turned to smile at Myrah; she was trying to be as supportive as she could be, he knew. But he also knew that there was just so much that she didn't know and didn't understand.
"I guess."
She came over to the table where he was sitting, carrying a volume with her. Hershel raised an eyebrow.
"What have you got?"
"Hrshyl's Collection of Poetry," she admitted, setting it in front of Hershel before taking a seat next to him. She pushed her bangs out of her face. "What did Archtivus say about your dream?"
Hershel frowned. "He…doesn't believe in visions," he finally admitted. "He says that the gift of prophecy is tied to the dragon race, not Oni."
"What does that mean?"
Hershel shrugged. "I'm not sure."
"But you believe they're visions…something true?"
"They feel different than dreams. I can sense their truth…if that makes any sense."
Here Myrah smiled. "As much sense as anything related to power and magic," she admitted. "To me, the fact that someone can launch fire from their hands is just as feasible as someone dreaming of the future. But if it is true, Hershel, then your niece…" She trailed off as she saw his expression crumple, and she reached out to grab his arm. "I'm sure she'll be fine," Myrah finally tried with a tight smile. "Perhaps it wasn't your nightmare at all…perhaps somehow you invaded Pippa's dreams."
He frowned at the thought. "You mean…saw her nightmares?"
"Why not? They would have been her real nightmares without being reality itself."
"Perhaps."
He could feel her staring at him, trying to figure out how to make him feel better about this situation. He loved her for it, but there were some things she wasn't going to be able to fix, and they both knew it.
"So…the poetry," he mentioned, fingering the ancient cover. "Any reason you brought this out?"
Myrah blinked. "I…came across it in my research of the Island," she finally explained. Hershel looked surprised, and Myrah pulled the volume over to herself as she began flipping through it to find a certain page. "When you went missing, Pippa mentioned you were on some Ancient Island. So I searched everywhere for a reference to it. So we could find you."
"And you found something?"
He was surprised; he wouldn't have thought that anyone in general history even knew about the Island. It wasn't even mentioned in his own history scrolls…at least, not that he had found.
"Just this poem," she admitted. She pushed the book over to him, and Hershel skimmed the page quickly.
Stolen Heart in Chains of Expectation
Taken from the Dust of Home
To the Mists of the Western Sea
Whispers of Secrets
Promises of Honor
But what can be gained in
The Isle of Ancient Ones
That was not offered
When I proposed
All of Me
They sat in silence as he pondered the poems words. The Isle of Ancient Ones…it had to be the Isle of the Ancients. But why would Hrshyl of old have written about it? And in a love poem of all things…
"Lunise."
Myrah looked surprised as Hershel finally sat back, the puzzle clicking into place.
"What?" Myrah asked.
Hershel glanced over at the Western Leader, but he didn't say anything else as things starting connecting in his mind. Why the Island believed him to be part of some destiny…why Lunise had seemed so interested in him. Perhaps he was wrong in assuming that she was connected to a poet of old, but then he remembered the encounter he had heard when he was drifting to the departed realm. Lunise had been speaking to a Hershel…but not to him.
"Hershel…what's a lunise?"
Hershel finally cleared his throat. "She was the old guardian of the Island…she was tasked to serve it for eternity. When I escaped, I managed to release her."
Best to leave it at that, he thought. Myrah was watching him closely.
"But what does she have to do with this poem?"
"I think Hrshyl was in love with her. All these poems…I think they're about her."
He flipped through the various pages, his eyes picking out bits and pieces. Flowing hair like rushing water…eyes filled with understanding. He never found her name mentioned, but his power stirred inside of him like it agreed with his theory.
"This document is hundreds of years old," Myrah retorted. "Possibly close to a thousand. How could Hrshyl have been in love with someone you met?"
"Island Guardians are not mortal," he explained softly. "They are beings of light and power. The Island says that they are equals, but in reality, it is a destiny of eternal slavery. Lunise would have been there forever, had I not released her to the departed realm."
Here Myrah gave a start. "You killed her?"
He looked up, flushing at the horror in her expression. "I removed her from the Island," he admitted softly. "Without her constant source of light and power to sustain her soul, it was freed to the departed realm."
The Western Leader still looked perplexed, and Hershel shut the collection of poetry, pushing it away from him.
"How many of these Guardians were there?" Myrah finally asked. "Did you kill…free…all of them? Or just her?"
"Lunise was the Island's only Guardian," he assured, and Myrah frowned.
"But you said Guardians. You made it sound like there were more than one."
"There would have been, if the Island had gotten its way with me."
It came out, spurred on by the bitterness that was churning within him. Sometimes he feared that the power inside of him was still connected to the Island, but it seemed to be filled with as much distrust and loathing towards the Ancient Entity as he was.
"What?" He glanced up at Myrah's murmur, and he realized with a shock what he had just confessed to. He froze, waiting for the fear and horror that Syn had shown when she had found out. And there was horror…but rather than fear, Myrah seemed angry. She reached out to finger his pale locks. "It tried to enslave you," she clarified, and he glanced away as she continued. "No wonder you don't want to talk about it…"
He tried to think of something else to talk about, something to change the subject. Myrah had started to walk away, and Hershel wondered where she was going; did the truth frighten her after all?
"I have something for you."
He looked up to see Myrah coming back with a package, and she smiled at his confusion. She handed it to him, and came over to hug him from behind. Hershel stared at the package and Myrah murmured into his ear.
"Aren't you going to open it?"
He smiled, happy that she didn't seem eager to press their earlier conversation. He pulled off the twine and ripped away the packaging parchment.
"What's this?" He pulled out a tunic, and felt her arms tighten around him.
"I just figured since you're living in the West now, perhaps you'd like to wear a little western fashion."
Hershel rubbed the cloth; it was nicer quality than what he was used to in the Central Province. Different areas tended to boast different fashions and color schemes, he knew. This tunic was muted reddish-brown in color with a high collar—it looked quite similar to what Myrah usually wore, to be honest. He glanced down at his simple—and perhaps bland—outfit. Healers especially wore simple clothing in styles and colors that would make them recognizable. He had dressed this way since first coming to live with Phos…
"You don't like it." Myrah sounded disappointed, but he could also tell that she was trying to keep her tone light. "You don't have to wear it," she offered quietly. "It was…just a silly notion, really."
"Of course I'll wear it," he countered, turning to face her and offer a small smile. "Thank you."
She radiated relief and Hershel stood, the package in tow.
"You don't have to change now," she said, surprised. He gave her a quick smile.
"Might as well see if it all fits."
He left the library to find a private nook, returning a little while later. When he re-entered wearing the new tunic and trousers, Myrah was sitting at the table reading some scroll or another. She looked up as he came in. Hershel felt a flush rising up his neck as Myrah stared at him, the scroll lowering to the table unconsciously. It was odd, being scrutinized like this; no one had ever cared what he wore before. Myrah had stood and come over, looking him up and down with a satisfied smile.
"Well?" he finally asked. Myrah circled him one last time, nodding to herself. She was blushing, Hershel realized, and he flushed darker himself. He wasn't sure why she seemed so excited about the change; he was still himself…just dressed in a color other than sand grey.
"It seems to fit nicely…and I think it suits you," Myrah finally decided, reaching up to adjust the collar. Her hands lingered on the back of his neck afterward as she tilted her head. "How does it feel?"
"Um…feels fine," he offered. It was less scratchy than the clothes he was used to, but it all felt so strange on him. It was nice…but also jarring. She must have noticed his indecision because she offered another smile.
"You don't have to wear it," she reminded, and he chuckled.
"It's just new," he admitted. "But it's nice. I like it."
"You look good," she offered, and he scoffed as he glanced down at himself.
"It's going to take more than a new wardrobe…" he started, but she cut him off.
"Nonsense."
Myrah's fingers fiddled with the back of his collar and Hershel caught her gaze drop to his mouth.
"Am I allowed to kiss you yet?" she asked quietly. He didn't answer and she frowned as she leaned in. "So…you're allowed to kiss me, but I still can't kiss you?"
"It seems I've been breaking my own rule," he agreed sheepishly, and she shrugged faintly.
"I still think it's a stupid rule," she offered. Her eyes were dancing with some private joke. "You really won't let me kiss you? It's a special occasion."
"Oh?"
"I was just going to congratulate you on your new look," she explained. Her fingers brushed against the small hairs on the back of his neck, causing goosebumps to race up his spine.
"I'm not sure if I can make an exception," he countered, teasing. His arms had found their way around her. "I don't think a wardrobe change is enough call for celebration…"
"Then we could celebrate the fact that you're finally fully unpacked…an official member of the Western Province."
"Mmm…are you going to try to boss me around now?" he murmured. "That's why you had me move to your province, isn't it? So you could officially be in charge of me."
"No one's in charge of you, Hershel," she reminded. "Or should I say…Master Hershel?"
"Not sure I deserve that title anymore," he mused.
"If anyone in the realm deserves it, I think you do," she countered. He smiled, using one hand to tuck her hair behind one ear.
"Well…Leader Myrah…I suppose I could make an exception. If you truly feel that a celebration is in order."
She leaned in and kissed him without saying anything else, as if she was afraid he would change his mind. Hershel closed his eyes and held her close. These moments did make it easier to forget—to forget the visions, the fear in Syn's eyes…even the Island itself. So he held onto the moment, convincing himself that perhaps he should take time more often to celebrate the small things in life rather than being so anxious about all the big things.
He went to pull away, but Myrah grabbed hold of the high collar to keep him close.
"Mmmm…don't underestimate the need for celebration, Hershel," she warned softly, and he leaned in to kiss her briefly. In truth, he could have stayed there in her arms all afternoon…but she had meetings and people were bound to come looking for her. Not to mention the fact that he hadn't visited the Order of Echo and Antirock in several days. He pulled away again, but Myrah merely laid on his chest in an effort to keep him close.
"Don't leave," she murmured. "Things tend to get so dull without you."
He hugged her, his head resting on hers. He closed his eyes; she smelled like ancient parchment and disappointment; something he was tending to sense from her more and more lately.
"I'm sorry," he apologized honestly. She smiled a little, though her eyes were still closed.
"I know."
23
