Disclaimer: I do not own The Tairen Soul Series by C.L. Wilson. However, I do own Angela and any OC, non-canon, and fictional magic.

A/N: I'm back! Thank you so much for my reviews. It's really inspiring to receive them. Please keep it up!


Ch. XII: Alone

Very gently the Fey Warrior supported Angela's back and spun strategically placed Air weaves to float them in the middle of the deepest part of the bathing pool. Angela watched Cyr's magic unfold and smiled reflexively.

Respectfully, Cyr spun Air weaves around Angela's torso to both cool her and blur her lovely figure from his gaze, knowing how uncomfortable she is.

The young woman's expression could only be described as relieved and her soul reached Cyr's.

Her tairen purred for the first time in her soul, feeling mostly sel'dor free, even if she remained trapped.

The young Frey watched Angela for a moment longer before slowly allowing them to arise from the depths.

He noted old, small scars around her body at specific points.

All are defensive wounds.

Now is not the time, vel Lesk. He thought sternly. Bide your time today.

The young Fey is no fool.

His shei'tani reached her limits and he would move cautiously for his self-protective, skittish doe.

There can be only one impetuous person in a relationship. He thought shrewdly. I must prove myself by showing her patience this time. Cyr did not fancy another botched temperamental moment that unsettled his shei'tani in a previously frazzled state.

Doubtlessly, the Fey realized they would have a few unsettling scenes in the near future.

She needs her shei'tan. Marissya's early chastisement echoed in his mind. Go gently…she is like a skittish doe. His mela's voice soon followed in his recollection.

Angela remained still and silent despite actually enjoying the cool water on her burned body. The relief she found with Cyr's capable Air Mastery coupled with the bath's fragrant cleansing water relaxed her.

After some time, Cyr Air-lifted them and he led her to the fireplace, careful to keep his eyes averted.

His action caused mixed feelings from the young woman. He carefully dried her and slipped her rose nightgown over her face and brought it down her body, making her flush with embarrassment.

Cyr kissed her cheek.

"I will not allow you to be uncomfortable, ajiana." He said softly, his amber eyes sincere. The last thing he wanted is Angela to be frightened of him or believe he will take advantage of her.

She leaned her cheek to his visage, and nodded. Her blush remaining bright and stubbornly refused her peace.

"Are you…warm or cool enough?" Cyr asked after a beat.

Still not trusting herself to speak, she nodded.

Cyr leaned down and lifted his shei'tani and deposited her on their bed.

He gathered his nightclothes and retreated behind the silk screen to change as Angela gathered her thoughts.

When he emerged, Angela regarded his for a long moment before gesturing him to sit down.

Once he did, Angela crawled over to him and sat very close to him. She clutched his arm and buried her face into his shoulder, worrying him.

Her emotions bombarded Cyr. Helplessness, embarrassment, defeat and shyness.

"Angela?" He asked quietly.

"I…just don't know what to think, Cyr." She finally said. "I have this power that makes no sense to me…and today…really wasn't a good day for either of us." She hunched into her shoulders. "I guess I got really, really good at hiding and that's what I'd like to do now…even if we're not supposed to."

Cyr did not like the sound of that.

"Angela," he began. "none of this was your fault." He told her frustrated.

She took a deep breath and then made herself look him in the eye. She offered him a shy smile. Some of her negative emotions abated at seeing his face.

It softened his features and he held her close with one arm.

"There's kem'Angela." He murmured, relaxing a bit.

Blushing, Angela leaned her head against his shoulder.

After several chimes, Angela turned and softly kissed his shoulder making him smile.

"I'm sorry for acting badly," she said in a low voice. "I honestly don't know what came over me…one chime, I was listening to…Tajik's explanation. The next, I burned so badly I could only react…I'm very thankful I didn't burn you or anyone else."

Cyr looked down at her. "What did Tajik say?"

"He showed me what happened…Mama had been kidnapped and I was due in three weeks…he's the one who named me."

"You didn't burn me, Angela." Cyr answered, turning her to face him. She held her breath at his chiseled expression.

"You frightened me."

She blinked. "That's impossible." She automatically denied and instantly regretted it.

He raised a perfectly arched brow.

"Is that what you really believe?" He asked, his voice unnaturally calm.

She pulled back enough to look at him. "Well, yes." She answered nervously. "You're always so cool, calm and collected and you're so…capable."

On the one hand, Cyr's pride took an immediate northern spike.

She's missing the point. He thought exasperatedly.

"Nei," he corrected. "I attacked the Feyreisen and I don't take kindly to any threat to you." He looked her meaningfully. "We've established this Angela."

Angela sighed. "Everything's changed again." She complained. "I'm a raging volcano equipped with a tairen―and my hair's changed."

That surprised a laugh from him while Angela tried to remain annoyed and could not.

"True, kem'Angela." He managed to say, chuckling. "You hair always changes." Speaking of said curls, Cyr wrapped his finger around the coppery strands and smiled wistfully.

"You have such beautiful red curls, ajiana." The young Fey remarked, before turning to his pleased shei'tani. She leaned into his touch.

"But?" She queried, feeling like a glutton for pain.

"You matter to me," Cyr finally said after choosing his words very carefully. "I recall several occasions where I promised ou safety and yet you're always hurt."

"No!" Angela vehemently denied. "That's not true." She continued with a huff. "Without you…I'd be worse off." Angela gripped shirt, making a point.

Deciding it was too late for yet another argument. He switched topics. "I have plans for us tomorrow, so let's go to bed, teska?"

Effectively sidetracked, the young woman gave him one final look before ceding the point.

"What are we doing tomorrow?" She asked curiously.

Cyr smiled before pulling her to bed.

"Well, if I told you, then it wouldn't be a surprise, would it?" He grinned at her upturned look before depositing a kiss on her brow.

For once, Angela did not gainsay him and she promptly fell asleep.

The Fey warrior remained awake. He knew things are not OK between them. However, he had to focus on tomorrow.

What to do about the near-assassination attempt on the Feyreisen?


Meanwhile, a darker presence made itself known deep in the bowels of Boura Fell.

The demons sensed Angela's budding powers and hungered for her body and soul. They remembered why she is so familiar.

Her mother sliced her wings into bits using them to save herself…until and unlikely guide traded one Fey girl for another.

Who would care a nobody's whore's child for a revered Feyan matepair's destined to rule?

The Tairen Soul by rights should have been Angela and not Ellysetta.

The demons chuckled.

Great power would be her undoing.

"Cyr is not going to be punished." Ellysetta declared to her shei'tan and First Blade.

They Fey exchanged loaded looks.

"While we agree, kem'falla." Bel began. "his pride will have him here demanding to be…."

"Although, what to do about Angela?" Rain interrupted.

"You'll do nothing," Marissya said staunchly.

"Marissya," Rain began.

"I'm serious." The shei'dahlin continued heatedly. "That young woman is surprisingly well-adjusted despite her horrid abandonment, abuse and magical backlash."

"Aiyah," Bel agreed soberly. "but we no longer have the luxury of time for her to convalesce."

Ellysetta remained thoughtful.

After some explanation and consideration concerning her new cousin, they Feyreisa went to the Hall of Scroll to learn all she could about Norban. The customs in particular before making her way―with an armed quintet and Rain―to visit Ivan Dew.

He absolutely disgusted her. If it were within her power she would have unleashed Azreisa with him as her prey.

She is amazingly strong…she didn't have love and she's still a good person to everyone. Ellysetta thought somberly.

"Shei'tani?" Rain asked, concerned.

"Hm?" Ellysetta asked, realizing everyone looked at her.

"What do you think we should do?" Rain asked quietly.

"I think we need to let her excel in something." Ellysetta answered.

"Excel?" Bel asked, confused.

"Like sewing? Or becoming literate? Or blacksmithing?" Marissya perked up, with a faintly appeased look.

"Aiyah…and I'd like Venarra to check on her health since I know you'll be leaving soon, Marissya, and she doesn't trust me." Ellysetta tried to hide her hurt.

Everyone nodded. Tomorrow, many things would change for Angela Felicity vol Sibboreh.

"What about Tajik?" Dax asked.

"Still healing," Marissya grimaced. "I don't want to be the one to talk to him." She gave Dax a pointed look, and he held up his hands in surrender.

"It's a shame we can't give them time to get to know one another," Dax remarked grimly.

Rain rubbed his temples. "It can't be helped…we're still at war and he needs to train the troops with the weapons Angela's made―if we can duplicate her results?" he asked Bel.

The somber Fey shook his head.


Tajik's sour mood perpetuated long after his talk with Dax. He knew his orders and the gravity and reality of impending war. He would have to leave his nessa.

Again. He thought bitterly.

Of course, he demanded to see her and could not fault Cyr one iota for instilling a virtual lockdown.

He wrote with tears in his eyes a letter, since he knew had to leave in a few bells.

Just in case, he thought grimly. I never see her again.


Angela awoke cold.

It was late afternoon. She knew Cyr was off doing something for the Feyreisen after getting a knock at the door from a messenger this morning.

Still sore, Angela slowly rose feeling her bones pop into place.

Gulping slightly, she slowly dressed in her saffron-and-crimson dress and ignored her appearance in the mirror.

The young woman knew she changed―but that new face is beyond her comprehension.

She wore her hair loose and grabbed a slice of bread before turning the lock on her door.

Cyr could keep someone out but not if they were already in.

She did not see anyone along the corridor and for that she thanked the gods.

Frankly, Angela did not want to see her shei'tan at the moment.

She had very mixed feelings regarding last night.

No, the only person she wanted to see is her father.

It surprised her how ready she is to call him that.

But…it's gepa not Papa. She thought determinedly.

So focused was she on concentrating on her shaky legs and weight she did not see the fellana before her.

"Oh!" they exclaimed.

"I beg your pardon, my lady," Angela squeaked, dropping a clumsy curtsey.

"Oh it's not trouble, Angela, is it?" Jirene v'En_, shei'tani to the Water Master of the Massan*, said kindly. She eyed the young woman with a Healer's eye.

Angela squirmed. "Yes ma'am." She answered unsteadily.

"What are you doing out of bed, ajiana?" She asked, seeing Angela intuitively relax . "I know Marissya wanted to say goodbye to you same with Tajik."

The young woman gaped at her. "What do you mean?" She demanded. Realizing how forward she was. "Please? Could you tell me, my lady?" She added, blushing.

"Oh, I thought you knew, ajiana." Jirene said, not taking offense as she sensed Angela's emotions. "Lord Tajik wanted to say goodbye and slipped a letter under your door."

Angela stared at her. "Which way?" she asked, feeling upset.

Jirene took a step closer to her. "He just left about five chimes ago, they're headed toward the Garreval." She answered immediately. She wove soft golden shei'dahlin weaves about Angela.

"Beylah vo, kem'falla." Angela tried in Feyan, reaching for her hand sincerely. "I pray the gods grant you what you most desire. I can't lose him, too." Angela missed the platinum glow around her fingertips and dashed away, leaving a bloody left footprint in her wake.

Jirene's jaw dropped, startled by the platinum magic.

«Shei'tani? »Elmor asked, concerned. «Are you alright?

«Aiyah, shei'tan. »Jirene answered, her eyes brimming with tears. «That poor child, I can see why Marissya is so taken by her. »

Angelaran toward the front doors and caught sight of bright red hair 50 yards ahead. She knew she could not run anymore. What is wrong with my leg? She thought unnerved. The young woman swooped down and grabbed a pebble.

"Don't you dare leave me without saying goodbye!" Angela shrilled, actually throwing the pebble with deadly speed and accuracy at Tajik's head.

Tajik whirled around. His blue eyes flashing temper and bitterness until he saw her. Angela's ire faltered, suddenly regretting her snap decision. The Feyan brigade started and laughed.

"Kem'nessa," he announced, relieved. Seeing her eyes widen in censure he shook his head at her expression. The Fire Master jogged to her.

"Tairen's out of the bag." He grinned, a mixture of pride and remorse, as pulled her into an embrace. "You look just like me."

Angela's breath labored, as she limped enough to worry Tajik. He quickly carried Angela to a bench, noticing her bloody foot.

"And for the record, kem'nessa." Tajik continued paternalistically. "I did leave you a letter since I was told you were still healing. I had to leave because the ages are gathering forces and I'm commanded," he stressed the word quietly. "to finish training."

Angela frowned at him. "I can't read it…gepa."

His eye brightened at her attempt but then he frowned sharply. "Ajiana, I wrote it in Celierian." Angela shook her head before he finished.

"Don't matter," she said shrugging. "Cain't read or write…didja draw pictures?" Her accent thickening as she tried to breathe.

Tajik nearly gave himself whiplash. "What?" he demanded sharply.

Angela sighed and clenched her teeth as she glared at her bloody foot. "None of us knew how to. It's actually what saved us from the Mages early on…if you're smart then you're killed off and/or sold." She answered flippantly.

"What?" Tajik repeated, gobsmacked. "Felicity knew how to."

Angela's eyes welled with angry, platinum tears, surprising Tajik. She lied again. Angela thought infuriated. However, Angela had enough presence of mind to remain silent.

"I should probably let you go," Angela murmured spying Cyr's stoic expression with Rain in tow.

Tajik's eyes narrowed at his king and potential bond-nos.

Angela took a deep breath.

I don't do scenes. She thought firmly as she plastered on a smile for her shei'tan.

"Was just sayin' goodbye." Angela said garnering everyone's attention. Cyr dutifully came to Angela's side. The reserved Fey remained silent.

Rain sighed. "I am sorry, Angela." He said tiredly.

The young woman was acutely aware of several Feyan curious eyes. Her gepa's simmering temper and her personal conversation with Cyr.

"I understand, My Lord Feyreisen." Angela said formally. "The Fey need every available blade. I regret I was disoriented and made a spectacle of myself when I should have been resting." Angela slowly stood and leaned on Cyr before turning to Tajik.

"Be safe and may your blades aim true." Angela said sincerely before turning to her shei'tan. She did not dare reach out and touch him.

He bowed to his king and potential bond-gepa, and held out his hand Fey fashion to her.

Taking it, Angela walked carefully before Cyr promptly carried her and used Earth to wrap around her foot. He led them to their room.

Depositing her on their bed. Cyr looked at her steadily.

"I'd rather not leave in anger, Angela." Cyr said quietly. "but I, too, have my summons to carry out a mission that the Feyreisen has set out for me."

Angela stilled.

"When are you leaving and coming back?" She asked.

"Immediately and in three days." He answered, kneeling to her foot and removing her bloody shoe.

"Lady Marissya must also leave," he said in a low voice. "she must assist the Feyreisa."

So I'm alone then.

He looked up. "Ravel, Sian and Torel will remain here if you wish it―I'm running into them as well."

Angela shook her head. "Y'all need each other…I'll only stand in the way."

Cyr used more Earth and Spirit weaves.

"While I'm away….I have been told the shei'tanista bond is excruciating when the matepair is separated…and I'd rather leave Ravel behind to watch over you."

Angela gaped at him, making Cyr feel guilty. What does excruciating mean?

He sighed. "I…cannot help you with Fire, and I want someone experienced to guide you."

Angela's shoulders sagged. He's always so responsible. She thought, feeling like a mean pacheeta.

"OK," she agreed hesitantly. Angela placed her hand on his shoulder, forcing him to look at her.

"Return…and we'll address everything since there's no time."

Grateful, Cyr turned and kissed her hand before lightly rising and she lowered hers.

He picked up his rucksack and Angela's eyes widened as his jet black leathers shone.

Gone is her Cyr.

He puled something from it and handed it to her.

It is a floral headband made to match her new dress Cyriane made. Cyr had repaired it that morning and laid on his side of the bed for Angela to see.

She swallowed, accepting it and blinking back tears.

Cyr nodded more to himself, before kneeling again and giving her a gossamer brush of his lips before standing.

If I linger…I'll never leave. He thought without a backwards glance he closed the door with an audible click.


Cyr made the necessary arrangements with Angela's lu'tans.

Ravel bowed to Cyr who acknowledged him.

Cyr took off running with Sian and Torel giving him a slight distance.

Perhaps this is for the best.

Cyr shook his head as soon as he set foot from their door.

I have to find a way to remove her from the palace…I can teach her to read at our library. He felt guilty.

The Hall of Scrolls is world-renowned and if someone is allowed in The Fading Lands then they ought to see it once in their lifetime.

The simple truth is Cyr is losing faith in the Crown of Office. He knew it was taking place because of Angela.

Being in her cousin's service added to the melodrama.

How can I serve two mistresses? He wondered. The tall Fey made his way to his blade brothers.

They eyed him worriedly.

"It'll only be for three days, Cyr." Torel reminded him quietly.

Cyr looked at them startled.

They are the closest he had to friends.

And if I fail? The Fey thought. How would that turn out?

Every Fey knew the risk failure brought in a shei'tanista courtship.

Soul-lost, bond-madness, honor death.

The end of my family and lineage. Cyr shook his head.

Sian exchanged a telling look with Torel and placed a hand on Cyr's shoulder, surprising him.

"You're a good man, Cyr." He began. "Teska, don't think all is lost…until she actually rejects you."

Cyr stared at him and realized something equally important.

He represented hope to his friends.

Because really, Cyr thought censurably. Who'd have thought I'd have a shei'tani?

"Beylah vos." Cyr said genuinely.

Together, the Fey took off running.


Angela stayed in her room, twiddling her floral headband.

It occurred to Angela this is the first time she is alone since the wilderness.

The young woman rose and made her way to the comfortable chaise lounge. She stared at the finery surrounding her.

"You're not dreaming," she muttered, closing her eyes. Her tears trekked downward hardening into platinum pearls.


Marissya is decidedly unhappy.

"No shei'tan, no gepa, no…anyone!" She fumed at Dax.

The Earth Master sighed.

"This might be a good thing, kem'san."

She speared him a dark look, before her shoulders sagged.

They had to leave hastily. Marissya allowed Dax to carry their trunks and followed her entourage as they headed toward the Garreval. They would not be leaving The Fading Lands for some time. Especially not worth the risk for their esteemed shei'dahlin.


Ravel lightly knocked on Angela's door.

Frowning slightly, the young woman set down her headband and limped before letting out a startled cry. She tripped, slamming her hand against the door and preventing her fall.

"Kem'falla!" Ravel exclaimed. "Are you alright?"

Angela shuddered, disoriented.

"I―I'm fine…just ouch…one chime." She cursed herself.

What is wrong with you? She angrily demanded as she gingerly put her foot down and awkwardly leaned against the door.

Slowly, Angela opened the deadbolt and weakly opened it.

Ravel pushed at the door and stared at Angela's mottled face of blush-and-pale from embarrassment and pain.

"Kem'falla," he repeated. She leaned on his forearm and he swore in Feyan.

Angela's entire left hem bled along the floor resulting in blood loss.

He quickly lifted her as he rushed to the Venarra v'En_'s office.

"What happened?" Venarra demanded of the strange half-fellana, cousin to the Feyreisa.

Couldn't be more dissimilar except for the hair. She thought.

"I honestly don't know…Cyr patched it before he left." Angela answered awkwardly.

"Do you often bleed from your feet?" Venarra asked in her clipped voice.

Angela bit her lip.

"Not in years, no ma'am."

The shei'dahlin's eyes narrowed. She probed the young woman's mind.

Angela cried out as her tairen screamed. Her body burned and blood thudded in her veins as Fire slammed forth from her hands.

«Shei'tani!» Cyr demanded, feeling Rage spur him.

«She hurt us!» Varenia hissed. «We will make her pay!»

Ravel quickly dispelled magic as Venarra's shei'tan sprung forth with shields around her and fury in face. Venarra jumped back, alarmed with her snarling shei'tan withdrawing his blades.

«What's going on?» Cyr demanded. Torel and Sian immediately grabbed his arms to keep him from running toward his shei'tani.

"Setah!" Jisera commanded from the doorway. Her office next to Venarra's made her curious seeing Angela in Ravel's arms. She wove healing weaves around the room.

"Las ajiana," she soothed. Angela tried to move away as the normally genial fellana glowered at Venarra.

Such a primitive girl. Venarra thought unnerved.

"Tell me, what happened?" Jisera continued.

"She mind-knifed me." Angela snapped, banded swirling platinum eyes glowed fiercely at Venarra as Ravel dispelled the Fire gathering at her fingertips.

Jisera glared at Venara. "You'd no right to do that, Venarra." She chastised.

"Sieks'ta," Venarra said demurely, wisely retreating.

Ravel cleared his throat, noting Angela's anger.

"Angela's Fire magic awoke last night along with her Fey heritage." He said clearly. "Kindly remember she is Friend of the Fey."

«Cyr? Teska, I have Angela…Lady Venarra tried to truthspeak Angela.» Ravel immediately Spirited, knowing Angela is unable to do so given her anguish.

«What the jaffing hells for?» Cyr demanded.

«I don't know, but I shall inform the Feyreisa.» Ravel promised.

Satisfied, Cyr disconnected and apologized to Sian and Torel. Together, they ran toward the Garravel.

Venarra and her shei'tan nodded.

Slowly, Angela indicated Ravel to set her feet down. She curtseyed to the remaining Fey and walked out with as much dignity as she could muster.

Her stomach growled and Ravel followed closely.

"Sieks'ta, kem'falla." Ravel began guiltily.

Surprised, Angela's anger instantly cooled.

"For what? You didn't mind-knife me." She said doing her best to ignore curious Fey. She tilted her head in confusion as Ravel guided her the Kitchens where her usual table remained.

Seeing steak, her eyes rounded. Ravel pulled out her chair carefully.

"Why'd she do it?" Angela asked as she carefully took a napkin and waited. Rain shook his head and drank pinnalle.

Angela eyed the blue alcoholic drink curiously, before accepting her customary faerilas.

"She is curious about you." Ravel stated diplomatically.

The young woman wrinkled her nose and dug into her steak and vegetables.

"Why none of y'all can simply ask me questions, I'll never know." She muttered. Angela ate two streaks with her swirling eyes abating. Ravel sipped his pinnalle.

"What would you like to do, kem'falla?"

Angela started. "Oh, I'm not sure? And really, Ravel," Angela said sincerely. "If you have anything else you'd rather be doing―don't let me stop you."

The Fire Master regarded her with perceptive violet eyes.

"Kem'falla," he said softly. "until your first defender, your shei'tan, returns this Fey will guard you"

Angela blushed. "Then, can we go outside? And practice some Fire? I feel ready to attack…and I need to control it so I don't harm anyone." She asked graciously.

"Sensible." Ravel agreed. "I'll take you to a small clearing and guide you with basic Fire weaves."

I'll ask her how she does it. He thought, harkening back to skilled fey'cha magic.

The young woman finished her meal, tidied her area and took her plate to the sink. She looked around her for cleaning materials.

"Allow us, kem'falla," A Fey servant said, coming to her from the side.

"Oh, but I…" Chastened, Angela handed her plate to them. "Th―beylah vo."

Ravel nodded to the servant and led Angela out to a small clearing surrounded by fireoak trees.

Angela did not like anyone picking up after her or treating her like glass.

Sensing her mood, Ravel showed her a small Fire weave, effectively distracting her to begin lessons.


Ivan Dew sighed as he remained in prison after witnessing the Fey Queen scrub his mind looking for evidence and such.

I'll find a way to remember everything. For Angela is mine.

He smiled cruelly.


References: practically all canon.

Names: I confess I have to reread the last two TSS books. I just vaguely remembered Jirene (unless that was the umagi for Queen Annoura? Regardless, I will correct ASAP). Or Venarra's surname.