Chapter 4
*
Sterran was irritated. Not only did Kella seem unable to learn how to keep her implanted intelligence with her when she broke contact with Sterran, but her reactions were getting worse.
Sterran shuddered as he recalled the most recent attempt. Kella had been overwhelmed with memories, and had burst into a fit of hysterical screaming. This had, when reestablishing contact had failed to return her to normal, summoned two Heralds and three Healers to the scene. Luckily, when Kella was calmed, she mentioned nothing to the rescue party to incriminate Sterran, so no lectures had been sent by Rolan.
What was wrong with her? The 'implant' matched her mental signitures perfectly - there shouldn't be this kind of trouble over it.
Perhaps she was just worried to much. Perhaps Sterran had pushed her too hard, and now she was too anxious to hold onto the implant.
And in the meantime, Kella's worrying tendency to overhear the Companions had increased. Was this some byproduct of the mental implant? Had Sterran perhaps activated some as-yet unknown Gift with his mental tinkering?
If only Asterra were here. She'd know what to do. But she had Chosen early, and Sterran had Chosen late, and she had come back to Valdemar for barely a candlemark before running away with her Chosen - Icefire, Sterran remembered - to explore the world.
But for now, Sterran would sleep, and see what the morning brang.
*
"I heard the Voices again last night," Kella reported conversationally the next morning. "But - it was different this time. There were much fewer. I wonder why."
Sterran knew, but he didn't reveal the fact. Bandits in the mountains - probably the same ones that had attacked Kella's family - were making a menace of themselves.
And the fools sent only a Herald and an internee to deal with them.
That had been a nightmare; after the pair's untimely death, the Heralds had boiled out like a wasp's nest, determined to destroy the bandits. This had made a serious dent in the amount of Heralds still around - in fact, apart from the disabled, there were no Heralds here anymore.
Even the Trainees were gone, for the long Summer had hidden autumn and a sharp winter, and now the midwinter holiday had called the Trainees home.
"And as well as that, there was another presence." This was startling. What could Kella be picking up now? "It felt - strong. It distorted the space around it. And it wasn't very happy."
:I wouldn't worry, Kella.: Sterran told her, releived. :The Companions have all been sensing something like that, recently. We think a new gift is developing in the city.:
"But this person was really upset!" Kella objected. She was an Empath, even untrained, and she had leapt to this as the focal point.
:It's alright,: the Companion reassured her. :A new gift often developes when the bearer is going through hard times. Like yours.: There was the Companion equivalent of a chuckle. :I just hope we haven't got another Lavan Firestorm on our hands!:
"Who?" asked Kella, frowning.
:As his name implies, he was able to set fire to things with his mind.: Sterran shuddered. :He was being bullied, and accidently ignited the room. Some people were killed, others hurt. But for all that, he was Chosen by a Companion, and he became a hero.:
Kella was intrigued. She knew that only good people were Chosen, but it seemed strange to be a murderer and a good person.
:But this gift; we do know that it isn't Firestarting, so it isn't a worry. Perhaps this person will be Chosen soon, perhaps not. We will have to wait and see.:
*
Kella knew she was dreaming, even though the silver-blue voices that normally haunted her sleep were gone. Instead she faced a whirling maelstrom, of pain and fear and rage. She reached out with a tendril of Empathy, seeking instinctively to calm this person.
Instead the Maelstrom pulled her in with it, until her vision was doubled: half looking at the emotion spiral from outside, in the metaphysical plane, and half watching from inside the head of someone else.
*
He tried to move away, but he placed his heavy, booted foot on one arm to stop her moving. Kella could feel the waves of sadistic pleasure as he ground his foot deep, making a bruise that would linger for weeks.
Now that he could no longer remove himself, the whip came down again, scoring a deep lash on his bare back. Kella, too, felt the fiery pain, but she could not retreat from this, she could not leave this boy to face this alone.
"Why?" growled the attacker, scoring another bloody track on the boy's back, making him cry out. When there was no answer, a solid kick was planted in his stomach. "Why didn't ye take the damn money?" Kella could feel the boy biting his lip. He gave no answer, but words blazed in his head.
Because they couldn't spare it. The silver was needed for their rent. I don't rob a pauper, even if you do.
"Ye robbed me, why couldn't ye rob 'im? Tis likely 'e stole it in th'first place!"
I robbed you because you are a cheating bastard, and I needed the money. And he didn't steal it - he turned a theif in to the guard; the silver was reward money.
Another kick was planted, and a groan escaped the boy. Visciously pleased, the man continued kicking him. Kella knew that if he'd had any food in his stomach, he would have vomited.
"Bloody useless." The man stomped away, and the boy pulled himself painfully into a hidden corner, where he lay gasping.
Worst day's work I ever did, robbing him. Now I'm bonded, property, and no one will ever listen. Not to one who's no better than a slave. The boy's thought was full of bitterness. But just because I was a theif doesn't mean I'll take a man's silver if he ain't inclined to spend it. Kella tried to smooth away his bitterness and anger. It twisted into a screaming loneliness that pulled at Kella's heart. She had never realised how lucky she was; she had had a loving family, and now she had Sterran. Who had this boy ever had?
:I am here,: She whispered to him. :I am with you.:
:Who?: His head came up, and Kella pushed back a rush of fear.
:A friend.: She whispered to him. :I am here with you.:
She wrapped him in a mental grip, holding him as his mind cried. He had been alone for too long, never had someone to weather the pain with him as Kella was. Tears ran, too long held back, as the boy was given someone to cry with.
*
Sterran was irritated. Not only did Kella seem unable to learn how to keep her implanted intelligence with her when she broke contact with Sterran, but her reactions were getting worse.
Sterran shuddered as he recalled the most recent attempt. Kella had been overwhelmed with memories, and had burst into a fit of hysterical screaming. This had, when reestablishing contact had failed to return her to normal, summoned two Heralds and three Healers to the scene. Luckily, when Kella was calmed, she mentioned nothing to the rescue party to incriminate Sterran, so no lectures had been sent by Rolan.
What was wrong with her? The 'implant' matched her mental signitures perfectly - there shouldn't be this kind of trouble over it.
Perhaps she was just worried to much. Perhaps Sterran had pushed her too hard, and now she was too anxious to hold onto the implant.
And in the meantime, Kella's worrying tendency to overhear the Companions had increased. Was this some byproduct of the mental implant? Had Sterran perhaps activated some as-yet unknown Gift with his mental tinkering?
If only Asterra were here. She'd know what to do. But she had Chosen early, and Sterran had Chosen late, and she had come back to Valdemar for barely a candlemark before running away with her Chosen - Icefire, Sterran remembered - to explore the world.
But for now, Sterran would sleep, and see what the morning brang.
*
"I heard the Voices again last night," Kella reported conversationally the next morning. "But - it was different this time. There were much fewer. I wonder why."
Sterran knew, but he didn't reveal the fact. Bandits in the mountains - probably the same ones that had attacked Kella's family - were making a menace of themselves.
And the fools sent only a Herald and an internee to deal with them.
That had been a nightmare; after the pair's untimely death, the Heralds had boiled out like a wasp's nest, determined to destroy the bandits. This had made a serious dent in the amount of Heralds still around - in fact, apart from the disabled, there were no Heralds here anymore.
Even the Trainees were gone, for the long Summer had hidden autumn and a sharp winter, and now the midwinter holiday had called the Trainees home.
"And as well as that, there was another presence." This was startling. What could Kella be picking up now? "It felt - strong. It distorted the space around it. And it wasn't very happy."
:I wouldn't worry, Kella.: Sterran told her, releived. :The Companions have all been sensing something like that, recently. We think a new gift is developing in the city.:
"But this person was really upset!" Kella objected. She was an Empath, even untrained, and she had leapt to this as the focal point.
:It's alright,: the Companion reassured her. :A new gift often developes when the bearer is going through hard times. Like yours.: There was the Companion equivalent of a chuckle. :I just hope we haven't got another Lavan Firestorm on our hands!:
"Who?" asked Kella, frowning.
:As his name implies, he was able to set fire to things with his mind.: Sterran shuddered. :He was being bullied, and accidently ignited the room. Some people were killed, others hurt. But for all that, he was Chosen by a Companion, and he became a hero.:
Kella was intrigued. She knew that only good people were Chosen, but it seemed strange to be a murderer and a good person.
:But this gift; we do know that it isn't Firestarting, so it isn't a worry. Perhaps this person will be Chosen soon, perhaps not. We will have to wait and see.:
*
Kella knew she was dreaming, even though the silver-blue voices that normally haunted her sleep were gone. Instead she faced a whirling maelstrom, of pain and fear and rage. She reached out with a tendril of Empathy, seeking instinctively to calm this person.
Instead the Maelstrom pulled her in with it, until her vision was doubled: half looking at the emotion spiral from outside, in the metaphysical plane, and half watching from inside the head of someone else.
*
He tried to move away, but he placed his heavy, booted foot on one arm to stop her moving. Kella could feel the waves of sadistic pleasure as he ground his foot deep, making a bruise that would linger for weeks.
Now that he could no longer remove himself, the whip came down again, scoring a deep lash on his bare back. Kella, too, felt the fiery pain, but she could not retreat from this, she could not leave this boy to face this alone.
"Why?" growled the attacker, scoring another bloody track on the boy's back, making him cry out. When there was no answer, a solid kick was planted in his stomach. "Why didn't ye take the damn money?" Kella could feel the boy biting his lip. He gave no answer, but words blazed in his head.
Because they couldn't spare it. The silver was needed for their rent. I don't rob a pauper, even if you do.
"Ye robbed me, why couldn't ye rob 'im? Tis likely 'e stole it in th'first place!"
I robbed you because you are a cheating bastard, and I needed the money. And he didn't steal it - he turned a theif in to the guard; the silver was reward money.
Another kick was planted, and a groan escaped the boy. Visciously pleased, the man continued kicking him. Kella knew that if he'd had any food in his stomach, he would have vomited.
"Bloody useless." The man stomped away, and the boy pulled himself painfully into a hidden corner, where he lay gasping.
Worst day's work I ever did, robbing him. Now I'm bonded, property, and no one will ever listen. Not to one who's no better than a slave. The boy's thought was full of bitterness. But just because I was a theif doesn't mean I'll take a man's silver if he ain't inclined to spend it. Kella tried to smooth away his bitterness and anger. It twisted into a screaming loneliness that pulled at Kella's heart. She had never realised how lucky she was; she had had a loving family, and now she had Sterran. Who had this boy ever had?
:I am here,: She whispered to him. :I am with you.:
:Who?: His head came up, and Kella pushed back a rush of fear.
:A friend.: She whispered to him. :I am here with you.:
She wrapped him in a mental grip, holding him as his mind cried. He had been alone for too long, never had someone to weather the pain with him as Kella was. Tears ran, too long held back, as the boy was given someone to cry with.