Disclaimer: I do not own any of TP's original characters.

Hey, I'm back! Anything in italics is a flashback. umm, if your interested from now on, I will be using African names and animals and such as Carthaki creatures and things because my creativeness with new names is gone. I have a cite on my profile that can show the pictures of the birds, otherwise it really isn't that important.

This chapter is for all my reviewers.Thanks so much!I'm sorry I don't usually reply to any in particular, but my computer is like, laptop from hell and only lets me open one internet page at a time and email must have everything shut off before it can function at all. However, sometimes (if I can remember) I write a new A/N at the chapter someone had a question on.

Daine yawned and stretched in the soft golden light filtering in through her open window. It ran and flowed like water around her head and rested in the hollows of her flesh and the bedclothes. She smiled when she felt the warm body heat of a cat curled languidly over her stomach. Three birds, a Baglafecht Weaver and two Lilac-breasted Rollers, were perched over her head. Their vibrant colors made her smile; they sang sweetly when she brushed their minds with her magic. She relaxed as they spoke of the day and with the soothing sensation of fingers roving over her scalp. A Vervet monkey played absently with her hair. Its small black face broke into a grin upon seeing her awake. Its excited chatter about her family group kept Daine smiling and busy for many minutes. The mouse-catcher crept away with a haughty twitch of her tail; this talk bored her was her dismissive purr as she slid between the small crack in the door and disappeared into the halls. The monkey chirped and bounced excitedly on the bed for a few minutes before Daine could calm her enough to understand what she was saying. She was going to go home. Her male was calling for her. In a grey flash, she leapt to the windowsill and waved one, black hand before leaping into a neighboring tree. Reality slowly seeped into the corners of her mind, and she sighed as she forced herself to rise from the tender embrace of her bed. The floor was harshly unforgiving to her feet as she shuffled to her folds of Carthaki clothes. Gently and as patiently as possible, she managed to clothe herself decently. Arram would be busy today. This was the perfect opportunity for her to look for her way home. Something inside her recoiled, leaving a heavy, metallic taste on the tip of her tongue. She had to return home. Didn't she?

Without a moment's more thought, she spun out of her room in a hazy swirl of sky blue and blood red. She clung to the wall for a moment and searched for movement, life around the corner. Nothing stirred. A small mouse called its greetings and ran over one of her sandaled feet. She smiled and moved into the openness of the hall. Light spilled around her and rode on her shoulders. It crowned her with a feral grace. Here, she was queen for a moment; for one fleeting heartbeat, she was a goddess and all looked to her with love and reverence. She felt frighteningly alone.

Daine took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Tilting her chin defiantly, she followed the calls and pulls of People life. Their copper threads led her to them with amazing speed. She stood just outside a tall, mahogany door. The red veins in the wood seemed to throb with life, with secrets. She rested one hand against the sun-warmed wood and pressed it outward. With a moan, the heavy door swung open with ponderous speed to reveal the emerald lawns glistening in the morning light. Tiny drops of liquid fire studded the grass already aflame with a vibrant passion she could see. A snake hawk sang to her from a nearby tree of the sun and the air, the fire and tumult of sailing over endless seas of green and brown. It was an ocean of life, and Daine longed to join her wing-brother in his flight. She longed to fly away and leave her heart tied behind.

With a strange tenderness, Daine crossed the courtyard and stepped beneath the lingering eyes of the stone gargoyles into the glowering gaze of the gleaming monolith. Clenching her fists, she walked through the doorway arched with exquisite detail. She stepped into the large entranceway and without hesitation headed for the stairs. These stairs she traveled so determinedly led to the foreboding shadow of Professor Abeljiah's end. She continued on. At the end of the staircase, there was a long hallway. It seemed to lead to the end of light and shadow; she could not see the end. With only a moment's more hesitation than before, she moved on. Curiosity and interest tugged her by her heartstrings until she gave in to the compulsion; she had to see what was at the end of the corridor. Her pace quickened and her heartbeat flew, but she danced between the light and dark to step in the pools of golden sunshine. Finally, she stood outside a door. It was thick and grey. There was no hope, no feeling caught up inside its fibers. It was dead.

Gently, Daine raised her hand and knocked. The resounding echo sounded hollow to her ears, and she scowled. Something was wrong. She could hear the scuffle and clatter of movement inside; it sounded flustered and frustrated. It was a sound that screamed louder than a command to go away, but Daine waited. Finally, the door creaked open seemingly of its own accord. By the window, Daine could see the silhouette of a man. He was tall, a trait she had grown to know well, but not too tall. He was dark and brown, in skin and hair. He stood with an air of sadness, of distress. He was despairing; she could see it in his eyes when he turned to look at her. They were dark abysses deeper than any ravine she had ever seen. They were at once soft and iron. They were not innocent like Arram's. They were not calculating like Ozorne's. They were not forgiving and weary like Numair's. They held a hollowness she had never seen before. There was not a flicker of flame in their depths.

With a sigh, the man turned to her and addressed her, "Who are you? Not one of my students, surely? I would have remembered you, I believe." His voice was so deep that it reverberated between her ribs and rocked against her heart. It held weariness so sharp that it ached in her bones. This was a man tired of the world.

"No, sir, I'm new around here. I just though that – I thought," she trailed off, not knowing how to explain. She had felt People. One, a cat, had called her, begged her to come here. She saw no cat, but she felt it and heard it.

"Sit," he gestured at a chair rickety and old from misuse. It was covered in papers and odd items, things she could not imagine a use for. Slowly, he lowered himself behind his desk. He was not an old man. No, he was far from it. His hair clung to his head in wiry tendrils and accented a stubborn nose. Wide cheekbones spoke of wisdom and patience, a placidity also illustrated in his gentle movements. "Asha was expecting someone today. Perhaps it is you she was seeking?"

Daine looked at him with shock and confusion. Testing his theory, she called Asha along the line between her and the cat she had followed. Help him she whispered back, worry flashing through her mind like a silver lance. I'll try was all she could promise. After all, she did not know what was wrong. "Yes, I think I am."

A soft smile threatened the corners of the dark man's mouth. "Then I shall leave you alone?"

"No, sir," Daine smiled, "I don't think that's necessary. She's even gone so far as to disappear."

Foolish two-legger was the arrogant purr as a beautiful tawny feline leapt onto the desk before her master. Her face and points darkened into a rippling black and her body was built for the hunt. Speed and skill were apparent in her every muscle and line of her body. She moved bonelessly, even more so than the average cat. Her eyes shone a smoldering gold that danced with a humor Daine could feel radiating from her taunt and protective body. She loved her master.

"Cats are always wiser than us humans give them credit for. Even humans such as us," the dark man stated with a softer edge to his voice.

His words startled Daine. She looked at him more closely with wide eyes. Copper fire ran its way through his veins. It was soft, more like a glow than fire, but it was most definitely there. "Yes," she replied slowly, "but always they find a way to speak to us, and they are most always right in whatever they tell us."

"And that is why you are here, is it not? Asha has told you something she would, or could, not tell to me."

"Perhaps."

Arram rolled slowly into the warm sunlight. He smiled slightly in his sleep and wallowed a moment longer in the warmth before stretching much like a cat. He possessively curled himself around the warm body beside him. He slowly propped himself up on one arm and looked down at his companion. She was a vision, even in the morning. She had one hand curled innocently around the soft sheets, and her long, gold hair streamed down her back and over the pillow like a heavenly cloud. Long, dark lashes brushed her pale cheeks lightly, softly like butterflies' wings. He brushed one long lock of hair away from her neck before gently nuzzling her awake with his nose and lips against the corner between her shoulder and throat.

"Love, that tickles," she protested with a voice thick with sleep as she tried to move away, bury herself in sheets and pillows. He laughed a deep throated laugh at her efforts and easily extricated her from her hastily erected shelter.

"We have to get ready; it's almost time to go," he coaxed gently. "We have to leave soon if you want to go to your rooms before classes to change your clothes. These are all wrinkled from sleep."

"I don't want to go to lessons today. Could we, just for once, skip them? I hardly ever get to see you as it is."

"No, love, classes are important. You can do so much with yourself; classes can help you get there. You could get your robe; I know you have the talent and the power. You just have to focus and work at it a little harder."

"You don't understand, Arram, I don't want my robe. I don't need it to do what I love. Complicated magic is not for me, Arram. That is what you do best, not me."

"It will come in time, love. All you have to do is practice more."

"I don't want to practice more, Arram! I like what I have now. There is nothing more I need for my Gift. It is not that important to me. I just want to make things beautiful. Illusions are not that difficult, love."

"Varice,-"

"We should go."

xXx

The thick darkness swirled around their heads as they slipped into the silence of the bedroom. Carefully, effortlessly Varice made a gentle gesture and the soft, warm glow of candlelight spilled into the shadowed heart of the room. She smiled up into Arram's face dark with emotion. Which ones, she could not tell completely. It did not seem to matter how long she had been with him, he would always remain so complicated. He was unsure of himself; he was proud of everyone else. He lived through the success of loved ones. He would not let her show him his own greatness. She never stopped trying.

Gently, he turned her face to him. Shadows rested on her every chiseled contour. She was so beautiful, and he loved her. He knew he did. So why was he suddenly trying to prove it to himself? Why was he suddenly clutching her to him with such desperation?

Softly, he wrapped his arms around her waist and let one head weave itself into her silken hair with strands of spun gold. He pulled her close to himself; he could feel her body heat radiating through her and ensnaring his senses. Her long, noble fingers traced patterns of fire over his flesh and down his arms. She watched as his eyes became darker than the night surrounding them and smiled. He pressed his lips to hers with a question at first which she quickly answered. He became more forceful. Together they swirled in a movement almost a dance of fire and wind. Their lips sought every sensitive spot on the other they had memorized. Slowly they eased into the mattress of his bed as they fell. They only awareness they had was of the other; her fingers weaving ribbons of fire rapidly cooling to ice before she revived them again along the long expanse of his back and over his chest; his wide hands pressing her down as teeth and lips traced her throat she bared submissively to him.

"Arram, wait. Arram," she protested and pressed her long, thin hands against his chest. She smiled into his eyes clouded and confused. Somewhere along the line, his shirt had disappeared. She had no remembrance of removing it; it did not matter, she decided. Her eyes were a volcanic blue; they swallowed him whole and he surrendered to their cerulean depths. He clawed himself back to reality holding onto them.

"Have you ever heard of anything called wild magic?" he asked before the thought was even complete in his head. Sarra's eyes were the blue of a summer storm, not the blue of a frozen sapphire like Varice's. His words sounded strange even to his own ears.

"No, love," she offered him. "Where did you learn of it?"

"Today," he sighed. "I heard someone speak of it from the gardens."

Varice smiled, she knew how much he loved the solitude of the gardens. She could always find him there if he had a problem, something he had to think through. "Will you tell me about it?" she inquired. She just wanted to hear him speak. She had missed him these past few days, and she was glad he had brought something up. She did not want the few moments she had with him before sleep pulled them into her seductive hold to be filled with hurried touches and fleeting promises.

"I do not know much. Only that one possessing such a power can communicate with animals, can become one."

"They can talk to beasts? Cannot the Banjiku tribes do something similar?"

"Indeed, they can," he said slowly, thoughtfully. She sighed and ran one slender finger down his chest as she moved into the comfortable circle of his arms. He was slipping away now. Arcane thoughts were infiltrating their time now. She only had a few moments before he forgot her again completely. "Perhaps," he muttered with a slight question in his tone.

"Perhaps what, love?"

He looked down at her face shining serenely in the candlelight as though he had not known she was there, "Nothing, I just thought that I would like to speak to one of them then. Maybe they could tell me more."

"It is a good idea, love. People have wondered what makes the Banjiku so unique. Wouldn't it be wonderful if you could discover their peculiarities?"

"Yes, love. That would be astounding," he spoke softly as though running the idea through his head. The look she could see in his eyes spoke of determination to solve a problem. She would not see him for a while. She knew him; when he found some new, arcane material, he was likely to fall in love with it and forget reality until he found something new to spark his interest. He was a brilliant man, but she often wondered if he was enough for her. Would he always love her like she needed, or would she be second place to his experiments and researching? Her last thoughts before the soft wing of sleep swept her away echoed a fear of loss, a hollowness and dread of what was to come.

So, what did you think? Tell me in a review! Its really not that hard...

Oh, yeah, I can't remember what Varice looks like except for the pretty and blonde. So, for my purposes she is blonde, blue-eyed, and her family will be from Scanra even if they now live in Carthak where she was born. Yeah, that's about it.