Sorry there was a delay with updates. I place full responsibility on school. And then the one night I was finally free of homework, the site wasn't working. Grrr. It's a conspiracy against me. It really is.
Responses (not to everyone this time, only for questions):
Henna: sorry for the confusion, I should have clarified that last chapter. *makes face* The shamans for these tribes are different from the Bazhir tribe shamans. Active magic is forbidden, but the Sight (the only 'magic' that the shamans have) is not. The tribes are afraid of the more blatant, 'you can see it in the works' magic. The Sight is passed down hereditarily (is that a word), and since Kaprice is an orphan with no family, her Sight makes them uncomfortable. In the last chapter, Mindy was suggesting that Kaprice had used active magic (spells, incantation, etc.) on Ryker. And with the way the tribes hate her already…that could be fatal. Hope this clears your confusion.
PenMage: yes, I do go to school and I do go to sleep (not as much as I'd prefer, however). I just write a few chapters during each weekend and manage to stay ahead of my postings. Right now I'm writing chapter…17 (and what a troublesome chapter it is too). Oh, and my friend doesn't have a penname, she only comes onto ff.net for my stories (and now yours :) ) and as much as I also want Mindy to die, I don't think Mindy is going to. Sad isn't it? What do I think of Ryker? I like him actually. I want him and Kaprice to be together. But the way things are going now…I don't know if it'll happen.
And for everyone who asked "if Roald is the guy I think he is, why didn't he die with the others during the Devastation?": well, I guess the only way to find out…is to keep reading!
Warning, Warning: we're sticking to Kaprice for this whole chapter. Wow.
9. An Unusual Stranger
Early morning; fifth day of Dawne
It was sparkling.
It was --what?!
Kaprice sat up and quickly glanced around.
She was sitting in a soft bedroll under a tree…in an oasis??
For a long moment she sat motionless on the bedroll, trying to gather enough wits to make sense of the situation. If there was any sense at all.
The oasis was small, big enough only to hold a couple trees, an average sized tent, and a small stream. But after living life in the endless desert, one always appreciated oases, no matter how small they turned out to be.
And around the oasis was the strangest looking …dome. The dome was a transparent dark blue; the blue reminded her of the night sky that she loved. She was able to see through the dome to the stretches of desert on the other side.
"Magic." That was the first word that came to mind as she stared, mesmerized by the shimmering blue. If it hadn't so beautiful, she would have been afraid.
Thirst jerked her out of her reverie. She reached for her canteen with the intent of filling it with water from the stream, but found it full already. And there was fruit by her full canteen for her to eat.
As she instinctively reached for a fruit, she realized that it was less painful for her to move her injured shoulder. The piercing pain was gone, and only a dull, weak ache remained. She could feel the bandages that were wrapped around her shoulder from under her robe.
Who had done all of this for her? Whoever it was, the person had brought her to this strange oasis, nearly healed her wound, and given her food and drink. And where was the person now?
She would stay here, she decided, so she could meet and thank her benefactor. And also learn about what the mysterious blue dome was.
~*~*~*~
It was after sunset that day when she saw a figure walking towards the oasis through the sparkling blue dome. The robe the person wore hid him from her gaze, but by his gait, she was sure it was a man.
As the figure got closer, she started to have second thoughts. The words of Nimoy came back to her: But if you meet a strange man wandering the desert dunes alone, turn the other way and run. For it is said that no one has lived after facing the Wanderer…
Kaprice had her hand wrapped around a cutting knife that she had found, along with other eating utensils, in the tent. She was suddenly glad she had it.
She watched as the man approached the edge of the dome. He knelt down and placed his hand on the dome's outer edge, murmuring several indiscernible words.
The blue dome flickered as the man stood and stepped through it. Once he was completely inside, the flickering stopped.
He stopped just a foot away from the edge of the dome and a couple of feet in front of her. They stared at one another.
Kaprice's grip on the knife tightened. Thoughts scurried through her mind: I should have left while I had the chance…how did he do that to the dome…is he really the Wanderer?
He took a sudden step toward her, hand outstretched, and she slashed at him savagely with the knife.
His arm froze; the back of his hand bled from a diagonal cut.
And as she watched, the cut began to heal.
In just moments, the cut was gone and the blood had dried over completely healed skin.
Kaprice gasped and took several wobbly steps back.
"What the--what the hell?"
The man sighed and just shook his head. "Why don't you put the knife down?" he suggested quietly. "You won't be able to hurt me with it anyway." Instead of sounding taunting and triumphant about the fact, he sounded oddly bitter.
She put the knife down to her side and watch as he reached up and pulled down his hood.
He had dark black hair like her own and the most remarkable blue eyes. And he didn't look that much older than her. Most importantly, he looked very human.
But the healing that she just witnessed…that was definitely not human.
"You don't look like a ghost," she finally said.
He gave a sharp bark of laughter at the forwardness of her statement. "If only I was."
She raised an eyebrow. "You want to be a ghost?"
"Yes. Then, at least, I'll be dead." He glared at his healed hand.
She stared at him, frozen with uncertainty. "Not being dead is a good thing," she finally said. After all, wasn't that what she had tried to avoid by running away?
"Speak for yourself," he objected.
Her chin went up a notch. "I am."
His gaze was sharp and piercing.
She immediately felt bad. He had saved her from dieing in the open desert, and here she was antagonizing him about something he was obviously bitter about.
"My name is Kaprice," she said suddenly. "Thank you for--for--" she waved her hand vaguely at the oasis. It was strange to say 'thank you'. She had used the words so rarely in her past.
He just shrugged. "Sure."
There was a long awkward silence; the young man did not look as if he planned to break it.
"How did you do that?" She pointed to the dome over their heads.
He stared at her. "You can see the protective circle?"
Protective circle? What was that? "Well, yes. Can't you?" she asked.
He just continued to stare at her intently. She had the sudden urge to pull up her hood and hide her face. What a strange young man.
"You are the Wanderer?" she asked tentatively.
"That is how I am known to most of the desert tribes," he said dryly.
She stared at him through narrowed eyes. "You don't look like a ghost," she said again. "Or like a mad killer."
"And I don't eat babies either. Or follow desert tribes around, cursing them to death. Or murder innocent people that I encounter."
She suddenly at the craziest urge to smile. "Neither do I," she said.
His eyes widened slightly; he was surprised at her light tone.
"Are you hungry?" he asked her cordially. "I have food in my tent." He turned and headed towards his tent.
Indeed, she had seen the food. But she hadn't touched it. "No thanks. I've already eaten most of your food. I don't want you to starve because of me." But she followed behind him anyway.
He glanced over his shoulder, an amused look on his face. "Not to worry. I don't eat."
She froze mid-step. He didn't eat? Was he just teasing her?
He laughed when he saw her look of shock, but did not take back his comment.
"Oh." Her voice was faint. "I'll take some food then." She forced herself to start walking again. "You never told me your name," she said, switching the topic.
"My name is Roald. Roald of Conte."
~*~*~*~
A.N.- *skips around in circles* we met the wanderer, we met the wanderer, we met the…
Got questions about Roald? (whaddaya mean he doesn't eat; why is he still her age; how did he heal like that, etc) don't worry. They will be answered…in my next chapter.
Awww…mindy wasn't in this chapter. Darn. Aren't you disappointed?
Ow, I just bit the inside of my mouth. I hate when that happens.
I'm considering killing someone off (towards the end of the fic, not now). *ponders about it* who shall I pick, who shall I pick…
Don't forget to leave me a review!
~krizsta