The Fallen One: The Sundered Lands Saga, #4

By Lexy Wolfe

At the Knowing One’s wishes, Nolyn Lirai is thrust into the overwhelming responsibility of being the Forentan mage council’s second. 

Kiya na’Citali is a young mystic and a spiritwalker with the ability to cross the threshold of life and death at will.

Now Nolyn and Kiya must work together and face the shadows that swallowed the lost city of Andar before an evil can revive age-old hatreds and destroy everything they hold dear.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BHC Press/Indigo
• Release date: Jun 3, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386206064

Book preview

Chapter 1

Wearing only tattered, blood spattered trousers, Edai Magus Nolyn leaned back in the chair, spine stiff as he gritted his teeth in silence. One of the servants cleaned the gashes that crisscrossed his chest and arms with meticulous care. Once done, the servant stepped aside while Se'edai Magus Ellis himself approached, resting his hands over the wounds. Nolyn bit back a shout of pain, back arching and fists clenching in tendon-popping tension as the older man spoke in a low voice. The gashes began to knit closed, leaving ugly, purple marks under the marred flesh.

The moment the spell ended, Nolyn sagged back, panting. He could not help but offer a weak smile when Zoe all but threw herself into his lap. The girl clung to him. I'm fine, he assured in a weak voice. He winced and moved one of her arms up a bit where she pressed against tender flesh. It was just a few scratches.

The senior mage arched an eyebrow. "A few scratches? You are a master of understatement, Nolyn. Ellis gestured for the servants to leave the tray for the evening meal on the table and depart. Thank you. I will attend to matters. They hesitated, trading uncertain looks at the breech in etiquette. He barked, Out! making them scurry in momentary panic. With a word and gesture, the door slammed shut behind them and the locking bar fell into place. You would think the world was ending when I feel like tending to myself. Like it was a crime against humanity itself for me to pour my own tea."

It is the breech in social protocol that bothers them. Nolyn half opened his eyes to look at the other man. I think they know you intend to serve me. I'm the lowest ranking person in this room, so I should be serving the both of you.

And if you even think about it, I will smack you silly. You are not in any shape to be doing anything, Ellis replied in stern tones as he moved to place settings for three at the table.

As Ellis reached for the food to begin serving, Nolyn sighed, closing his eyes again, stroking Zoe's hair. Before you bother, I'm not hungry.

Zoe released the man and put her hands on her hips. You must eat to get strong and heal. You always tell your people to take care of themselves after being injured. The great mother knows you do, she added, touching one of the metallic curls on her cheeks meaningfully. And what is good for the goose is good for the gander. So you have to eat, you stubborn gander.

Both men chuckled at the young Voice of the Oracle's scolding rant. Ellis returned with a plain tunic from the wardrobe, offering the replacement for the destroyed one to Nolyn. Weren't you a silly goose yesterday?

I am working through all the fauna. Nolyn winced when Zoe swatted his injured shoulder, smiling as she leaned over to kiss the dreadful bruise. He carefully shrugged into the shirt and sagged back in the chair with a heavy sigh. Zoe took his right hand and pressed his palm against her cheek. The rough, star-shaped scar, the physical proof of the soul bond he had forged with Illaini Magus Ash in their youth, pulsed against her skin. He rubbed his thumb against her temple. Ash is fine. I am sure the others are also.

Don't lie to me, Zoe scolded in a quiet voice. "The great mother knows when you're lying. She tells me. She won't tell me what is happening to anyone at Fortress, but She knows you know it is not good there and I am not a baby. You are worried and distracted and that is why you got hurt so bad this time and I don't want to lose you and neither does She. It makes me afraid to imagine losing you. And when I see that I nearly did lose you, it makes me even more scared and I'm not supposed to be afraid because I'm Her mortal servant and I should be stronger because everyone expects me to be strong but I'm not when I almost lose a friend."

Nolyn opened his mouth, then shut it again with a sight when he met Ellis's understanding gaze that mirrored Zoe's worry. You are right, Zoe. I'm sorry. I am worried about all of them, too. He lifted his hand from her cheek, looking at the star-shaped scar that pulsed of its own volition. I know Ash is alive. He was hurting for a few days, but given the expected backlash from that portal spell, it wasn't surprising. He closed his eyes, letting his hand drop to the arm of the chair, palm up. What is happening to him right now, I have no idea. I haven't been able to get any decent sleep for days now.

Until you heal up and your head clears, I do not want you going out on patrol. Ellis brought a glass of brandy and put it in Nolyn's hand, holding it until the man's fingers curled firmly around it. No arguments this time.

Someone has to cover for— Nolyn began, wincing when Ellis hit the top of the table, making everything on it jump.

Ysai is not in power anymore. I will be damned if I carry on her nonsense about the Illaini Magus or whomever being the only person who can possibly raise a hand to try to protect anyone! Ellis's azure blue eyes flashed with annoyance. We made do without Ash before. Forenta will survive until you've recovered. All mages have a duty to Forenta and Her people. We are not blessed with the gifts we have just to play court while one or two people risk their lives. Your duty right now is to recuperate from your injuries, and you need food to do that.

Nolyn grimaced, holding still as Ellis spoke sharp words of magic. His chair lifted up and floated over to the table, then settled gently to the floo. The Se'edai Magus prepared a plate of food and sat it before the younger man. And don't think you can out-stubborn me. You could not when you were a ward of the Avarians. You'll not now, even if you are my council second.

Explains where Ash gets his stubbornness from, Nolyn muttered, grimacing as he shifted in the chair to sit upright. He picked up a roll, taking a half-hearted bite from it. "He could out-stubborn you and Bennu." About to open his mouth to say something more, Nolyn cried out in pain, dropping the roll and grabbing his right hand, fingers spasming.

Ellis moved to Nolyn's side, hand on his shoulder. What is it? he asked in a low voice. He paused, glancing over at Zoe, drawing Nolyn's pain-hazed eyes to look at her as well, both forgetting everything as the girl sat ramrod straight, staring at nothing.

Ash is mad, Zoe said in a tiny voice. She turned sightless eyes towards them. Blinking several times, her gaze focused on them again. Really mad at the Knowing One. I-I'm scared, Ellis. Why would Ash be so mad at the great mother? She wrapped her arms around Ellis as he comforted her.

Looking at his right hand, Nolyn focused on banishing the phantom pains that echoed from his spirit brother Ash Avarian. As the overwhelming rage subsided to a tangle of emotions that melting into weary resignation, the Edai Magus releasing the breath he held. I'm trying, Ash. I am trying to make sure you do not need to worry about Forenta. But I'm not strong enough alone. Curling his fingers closed over the scar in his hand and dropping his forehead against it. With lingering ache and exhaustion, he whispered fervently, I wish I had someone here to help me with all of this. I do not know how long I can keep this up. To himself, he murmured, I am tired of being alone.

Chapter 2

A single lamp glowed from the middle of the table, a large bull of a man sat scribing notes when a quiet knock drew his attention up. The pale blue metallic mark on his cheek gleamed in the lamplight. Enter, he called, blotting the ink dry and closing the journal as a tall Vodani man entered.

You wished to speak to me, Dulain Tyrsan?

Tyrsan rose, waving to another chair at the table. Please, have a seat, Valerian. You have a taste for southern whiskey if I remember correctly?

The dusky-skinned man arched an eyebrow. Yes, Dulain. Is there a special occasion I am unaware of for such a treat?

Tyrsan smiled to himself as he poured. You do not think the return of the Dusvet and his group of masters turned students is occasion enough? He turned back and sat the two tumblers down before settling into his chair again. Leaning forward, he turned the lamp up brighter.

Valerian waved one hand dismissively to the reasoning. Forgive me, Dulain, but you are not a man known for casual social interaction. Every meeting has a purpose with you. Taking the tumbler, he held it dangling from his fingertips, making the golden liquid swirl, his gaze thoughtful. It cannot be to chastise me and exact some punishment. Wandering Guardians of Time are permitted at least seven years of down time between journeys beyond Her territory's borders. Given I am between journeys, I have been dutifully keeping out of trouble. So, I do not believe I have done anything to warrant punishment. Without moving his head, he raised his eyes to stare at Tyrsan. I have been back a mere five years and I could remain up to two more without giving up my wanderer status.

Tyrsan leaned back in his chair, relaxing as he rested his fingers around the top of his own tumbler. Of course you haven't done anything wrong, Valerian. Nor has anyone accused you of such, before you ask. Besides Dremmen, but I ignore his pointless dithering most of the time. Taking a sip of his drink, he asked, How long has it been since you've been to the Forenten territory?

The Vodani man's cup was just about to touch his lip the moment Tyrsan asked the question. He blinked at the unexpected question, then narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Officially? About one hundred twenty years ago when I was a Unsvet traveling with my mentor shortly after I earned my color. By the time my journeys would have taken me back, that ridiculous request from the Se'edai Magus before Ysai Oberlain demanded no Guardian cross the Forentan border without invitation.

Yes, I remember. You were rather perturbed. The Vodani man snorted at the Dulain's understatement. And what about since then?

Valerian drummed his fingers on the table with his free hand, toying with the glass of brandy. I have crossed over the borders now and then briefly since then, chasing after the occasional time shifter. But I have never entered their settlements. I have documented all my journeys without censorship. You know all of this already. He took a sip, then pointed out blandly, You are also not one to ask questions you already know the answers to or could not otherwise find out with ease, Dulain. What is this about?

As you pointed out, I have a purpose. Do indulge me. Valerian inclined his head, indicating he waited for Tyrsan to continue. I remember you having a keen fascination with Forenta. You grilled Jaison's student Ophilia for days after she first arrived.

My interest in Forenta is personal. You are the one who ordered us to respect Forentan sovereignty, Dulain. Their requests or invitations for our presence came less and less until some fifty years ago when they forbid us entry at all. That girl was the first one to come to us in decades. I wanted news. Valerian narrowed his eyes at the other man. I told you then I thought it was inane to withhold our presence, no matter what that old bat on their mage council wanted.

And I will be the first to admit that was in error. I should have pushed back and insisted Guardians have free access to all corners of the forest lands, but that is also the past. Tyrsan waited for Valerian's temper to subside before continuing. I want you to go to Forenta. The Dusvet has informed me there has been a significant power shift and that Fortress would be welcome. He expects the new Se'edai Magus had sent a messenger to make a formal request for our presence again within the borders. However, given the season, the roads are all but impassable, no matter how determined the messenger.

You don't want to wait to get a Guardian back in Forenta, Valerian observed, his tones bland.

No, I do not. The Dusvet said that Illaini Magus Ash Avarian, whom he brought back with him, needed to contend with temporal shifters alone. Succeeding by accident more than by design. I believe that what he had encountered and managed to contend with by himself is only a fraction of what infests Forenta. That is too much for someone untrained and unblessed by the Timeless One to have manage alone. We cannot leave Forenta without even his meager, untrained temporal abilities to guard the people and land.

Tyrsan rose, walking to the window to gaze out over the main courtyard of the mountainside home of Sanctuary. I want to be able to reassure both Illaini that they need not worry about their homeland so they may focus on their training here. The larger man fixed the other with a hard look. And you're one of the few who can traverse the worst terrain even during the worst of winter and travel quickly if you put your mind to it.

And someone who is willing to ignore the currently accepted sovereignty rule, waltz up to their council and introduce myself. Without waiting for the formal invitation that won't get here until late spring or early summer at best. Valerian smirked a bit. May I say, I like how you think, Dulain. And that it is about damned time you—

Annoyance colored Tyrsan's expression briefly. Do not test my patience. Valerian held up both hands in submission, his demeanor mollifying Tyrsan's irritation. Our mistress specifically suggested you. She likes you for your resourcefulness in finding ways to manage temporal shifters with a minimal use of temporal energy. She feels your techniques would be useful to the mages of Forenta to allow them more self sufficiency.

Ah, yes. Finishing his drink, he sat the cup down again. I would be happy to go to Forenta. It is helpful to have our mistress's blessings. While I do enjoy these little chats from time to time with you, I would rather not have it include any reprimands. I look forward to continuing my suspended observations of the Forentan culture.

Tyrsan rolled his eyes. Do not torment them too much. Jabbing their pride will do little to mend the rifts that had grown between the mages and the Guardians.

Valerian fixed Tyrsan with his own annoyed expression. Give me a little credit, Dulain. My interest in the Forentan culture is simple curiosity, not malicious. Despite the past century of animosity between us, I still admire them. I have no interest in disrupting them. He looked towards the window, thoughtful. I can head out tomorrow.

If you wish, though if you want, speak with the Dusvet's students before you depart, so you know what you might expect. Oh, and look for a Nolyn Lirai. The Dusvet says that Adept Ash worries for him.

Valerian blinked. Someone could tell a Forentan had 'lesser' emotions? That's unusual.

The Dulain smirked a bit. Quite. So he must be important, at least to Illaini Magus Ash. I'd rather be able to tell the Illani Magus that we mitigated the impact of his absence from Forenta with complete honesty. So, please do as I ask without being difficult. I've enough having to deal with Bella's antics these days.

The Vodani man turned his keen gaze on Tyrsan, studying him intently. "You still have hair. Though you are cutting it shorter. I assume to keep from pulling it out? He held his hands up again when Tyrsan arched an eyebrow at him. Don't hit me!"

Tyrsan smirked. I will take it under advisement.

Chapter 3

Distant volcanoes looming over the Desanti desert belched acrid smoke, staining the evening sky with grey smudges, the sunlight turning brilliant oranges and reds as it filtered through the haze. A slight female figure carefully navigated the steep inclines around many sharp-edged boulders, tugging free gauzy, cream-colored garments that fluttered in the breeze. Straightening, the figure paused to look back the way she had come, slender hands lifting her face-covering veil and draping it back.

In the valley below, the na'Citali tribe roused from the day's somnolence to begin the evening's routine tasks. The large oasis was one where they often took refuge during their normal migratory path. Rich green contrasted with the lighter colors of the desert sand, the colorful streamers of the tribe's tents fluttering in the evening breezes.

The tawny-brown eyed young woman turned away from her tribe. She continued deeper into the foothills of the mountains until she reached a tall, sheltered spire of rust-colored stone. Approaching the spire, she knelt by it, resting her palms and forehead against the rock. "A'tyrna Ulan Nyla, she whispered. Wake up, Nyla. I am here."

The stillness of the evening air turned to a gusting wind that whipped around the woman. Kiya! There you are! Your return to this place is so late this season, I worried I lost you to the land's wrath.

Forgive me for not being here at the usual time. The season has been drier than usual. The Alanis Su'alin chose to take us on the longer path with more oases on our return to the Citadel. Kiya raised her eyes to the spire, a vivid, true gold color illuminated by the last rays of the setting sun. I have missed you, my friend.

A ghostly image of a young woman emerged from the rock spire to kneel by Kiya. Her eyes were bright turquoise, her hair dark save for streaks of blond and red running through it. Concern infused her expression as she reached out to caress Kiya's cheek with ghostly fingers. You are so sad. What has happened?

I was so looking forward to being able to introduce you to my first child, but... Kiya closed her eyes, looking away. He did not survive. Nor did my season mate. A tear escaped her eye, making a trail down her dust covered cheek. So few outside of the na'Citali tribe are brave enough to take a Su'alin as a mate. I fear that I shall never bear a child.

Nyla tsked. It is not like you to give into despair so easily. Your son and season mate will be reborn and until then, there will be other men you can—

You do not understand! Kiya shifted to lean against the spire, eyes shut tight as she held her hand palm outward. Nyla put her palm to Kiya's, her expression one of worry. I know it is my duty to bear children. And I want to have them. But I do not want a mate who looks on me with fear, and that is how those outside the na'Citali look at us spiritwalkers. And my blood is too close to others in my tribe to seek a mate within. She sighed heavily. Sometimes I wish I were like Rengi and not cursed with the Su'alin gift.

I wish I could say I am sorry, but if you were not a spiritwalker, I would have no one to speak to. No one would even know I was here. It would be terribly lonely, not having your company when your tribe passes this way.

Kiya looked up, tilting her head. Why do you not allow other Su'alin to see you? Why only me?

I am A'tyrna Ulan, Nyla replied.

A small smile touched the corners of Kiya's lips. I did not think that meant 'more stubborn than an old drizar' in the old dialects. She giggled when the spirit stuck her tongue out at her. You have never answered that question for me, and I have known you all my life. Why me?

Nyla shrugged one shoulder, sitting cross-legged across from Kiya who mirrored her posture. You are not the first I have chosen to speak with. You will not be the last. But I choose. Her expression displayed fierce defiance, then shifted to sad reassurance. I used to watch you and your brothers Radisen and Rengi when you were children playing near me. You were so young to have the Su'alin gift! And you had such carefree joy in life. I wished that you would never know that joy to end. When your mother died, I had never sensed such despair except from my Grandfather. Or guilt as there was from Radisen.

Kiya sighed, looking down. The accident wasn't Radisen's fault. It wasn’t anyone's fault. Squaring her shoulders, she stated, But if it had not happened, he would not have found his true path. Nyla tilted her head to the side, her expression quizzical. They say he is now Skyfire il'Kailee, Githalin Swordanzen.

Nyla looked delighted, clapping her hands. Githalin Swordanzen? That is wonderful! You must bring him to see me. Her smile faded when Kiya covered her face with both hands, her voice trembling with a sound of despair. He is not dead. I know he is not dead. The other spirits who keep me company tell me about when those I care about die and when they are reborn. I care about your brother as I care about you.

I cannot bring him because he is gone, Nyla. Both living Githalin left Desantiva with the Dusvet Guardian and his outlander students many moons ago. She looked up when Nyla surged to her feet, the air whipping around.

She left Desantiva? Nyla looked up, fists clenched. Why did you not tell me totani'nasi left! Why would she leave Desantiva when—?! The whipping winds suddenly stopped.

Kiya got to her feet, watching Nyla's rage drain away in shock. What is wrong?

The prophesy, Nyla whispered to those Kiya could not hear but sensed the presence of. The prophesy may finally be fulfilled? Nyla covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Nodding, she murmured, I understand. Yes. I will tell her. She looked to Kiya, staring at her unspeaking, her eyes filled with hope and sadness.

Nyla? Nyla, what is wrong? Why—? Kiya gasped when another spirit appeared, his hand resting on Nyla's shoulder. His hair was raven black, eyes azure blue, and skin pale. When the young Su'alin raised her hands in preparation to attack him, Nyla held up her hands, darting between the pair. Kiya, no! He does not attack me! His touch teaches him how he can make himself seen by you. He is an outlander soul and very far from his own.

An... outlander soul? Kiya stared at the strange spirit with narrowed eyes, then gasped. He is a defiler! You allow a defiler to touch you, Nyla? How could you?

Kiya, Nyla admonished gently. The Great War was a very long time ago, and not everyone from the northlands are all alike, just as Desanti are not all alike. If I can find forgiveness for the descendants of those who made this necessary, she stated, waving to the pillar of reddish stone, then you should be able to do no less. He can be trusted. Nyla and the spirit traded knowing, put upon looks as Kiya hmphed and crossed her arms, looking away.

What is wrong is that I know after today, I may not see you for many, many seasons, and I will miss you. Nyla looked over her other shoulder, nodding in understanding. Take this message to the Alanis Su'alin: the Githalin must return home. Only then will the last of Desantiva's open wounds be able to be closed and the A'tyrna Ulan freed from our vigil.

Kiya gasped. 'Freed'? You mean, your soul might no longer be imprisoned and can finally be reborn?

The wind gusted briefly as Nyla's emotions flared. I told you before. I choose my own fate, as do all the A'tyrna Ulan. The flash of temper subsided and Nyla added, I choose to remain here. But when the Githalin returns and the land is healed, I will be free to make a new choice. She looked to the silent man standing behind her, his hand still on her shoulder. This one will serve as guide in the outlands. Nyla regarded Kiya, her gentle smile almost maternal. And you, my friend, must seek out the star-warrior.

The star-warrior? The star-warriors and star-mystics have been whispered about as myths! One exists? Nyla nodded to the question. I will do so, my friend. I promise not to fail. Kiya put her hand on the rock spire. You should stay calm. Your temper has exhausted you.

My temper is what keeps me focused. But you are right. I tire and must rest. Be well, my friend. Nyla kissed Kiya's cheek, then stepped back into the spire, returning to her dormant state. Kiya looked to the stranger, holding out her hand to him. She shivered as he rested his hand atop hers. Forgive me, she murmured. I had never touched an outlander spirit. Your energy is not like that of Desanti, or even Vodani. What shall I call you?

The man smiled, kindness in his azure blue eyes. I am known by many in this life as Bennu Avarian. But I would be honored if you would call me Grandfather.

Chapter 4

The barge navigated the wide river to settle by Surthan's dock. Valerian stepped off the gangway tilted his head back to look up at buildings taller than in most Sevmanan towns. He casually reached up to hold the cloak's hood in place. The cowl kept the mark on his cheek hidden from those around him, allowing him to enjoy the peaceful moment of anonymity. Shouldering his bag, he looked until he saw a young man nearby who seemed unoccupied. Valerian tapped him on the shoulder. Excuse me. Can you tell me if the Zeridian temple is still on Grey Hill?

The young man jumped and spun around, his eyes wild with panic. Master Dervil sent me out! Honest! I'm allowed to be— Oh. Turning brilliant red, he coughed and looked down. I-I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else.

Obviously, Valerian replied in droll tones. He noted the symbol sewn over the young man's heart. Ah, you are a journeyman healer? Excellent. He smiled as the young man looked up sharply. The Vodani Guardian watched the young man's expression change when he saw the metallic mark on his cheek that denoted his status as the Timeless One's mortal servant.

He waited as the young man went through the usual series of reactions most normals had when they realized they were speaking to a Guardian of Time. To his credit, the young man maintained his composure quite well once the surprise passed. Would you be able to give me directions to the Zeridian temple?

Oh, I can do better than that! I was heading back anyway. The young man stuck out his hand in greeting. Journeyman Tobias Zeridius.

Fortuitous for me. Taking the offered hand firmly, the Vodani replied in kind. Unsvet Guardian Valerian. Tilting his head to one side, he looked impressed. Zeridius, huh? Part of the founding family of the temple? He moved to the young man's side as he began to head into the crowd.

Yeah, I guess, Tobias replied with an utter lack of enthusiasm. Though really, everyone who becomes a healer of the temple gets the last name Zeridius. It's not that special. He glanced sideways at Valerian. What brings you to Serthan? Is there trouble? Someone is hurt? Is that why you want to go to the healing temple? The young man sounded almost hopeful.

Valerian arched an eyebrow at the other. No, no trouble. I am just passing through on my way to Ithesra. I was hoping I could talk a master healer into traveling with me.

The brief disappointment evaporated into wistful longing. Ithesra? Oh, you are so lucky to be able to travel! Tobias sighed longingly. They don't let me out of the temple much at all. I've never been outside of Surthan in my life. I only really know the streets because I would sneak maps and memorize them, imagining what it all looks like out here.

As they walked along, Valerian said after several minutes, That is unfortunate. It is fascinating, seeing other places. Not that serving your temple is not a wonderful thing. Glancing sideways, he wondered, But being you are a journeyman healer, shouldn't you be journeying to gain real world experience?

Oh, I'm journeyman by skill. But they consider me too young to go out on my own and Father, I mean Grand Master Arman, doesn't send masters out to wander anymore. So there is no one to escort me. I suppose everyone is young to a Guardian of Time, aren't they? He puffed his chest with pride. I've seen fifteen summers.

Fifteen is young by anyone's standards, Valerian pointed out blandly.

Tobias made a musing sound. "Well, true. But! Most don't make journeyman until they are twenty or older. Usually older. They think I am too naïve to be left alone and maybe I am. But I can't be anything else but naïve since they don't even want me leaving the temple grounds to begin with. So, he added on a sigh, I will have to wait to make master until I can go without anyone yanking my chain like I'm a puppy. That's what Taylin had to do. And Master Arman still tried to get her to stay. But it was rather difficult to argue that her healing duties at the temple were more important than the Dusvet Guardian's request."

Valerian looked bemused at the young man's babbling. You know Master Taylin?

"Know her? Of course! Everyone knows her. She has been the best and strongest healer for a really long time! Some say Zeridus himself blessed her! Because she can do things like heal old wounds when no one else can. Tobias tugged at an errant strand of hair. My dream is to be as good and strong as she is."

The two approached the temple, pausing to look up the long stairs that led to the main entrance. I am certain if you have the same dedication to your art as Master Taylin, you will achieve your goals, Valerian assured. Studying Tobias's profile a moment, the Unsvet puzzled over his apparent nervousness. Sudden understanding dawned. I can go on alone from here so you can get back to where you need to be. Is there anyone I should ask for when I get there?

Tobias looked at Valerian, both surprised and grateful. Grand Master Arman. You would have to convince him to give his blessing to any master to leave the temple. Otherwise, no one will go with, not even because you are a Guardian. Tobias started to hurry away to sneak in a back gate. Turning back, he asked uncertainly, Would you be willing to tell me about your adventures sometime, Unsvet Guardian Valerian?

Just call me Valerian, the Vodani man replied with a small smile. I do not plan on lingering in Surthan for long this visit. But perhaps our paths will cross again in the future. Only time will tell, and She likes to keep Her secrets.

Disappointment briefly dampened Tobias's enthusiasm before he smiled brightly again. Never know! Take care, Un-Valerian. He hurried off and disappeared around a corner.

Amused, Valerian turned and began the long climb up the stairs. He started catching up to a young woman limping ahead of him. When she stumbled, he hurried to her side to help her up. Are you all right? He frowned as he looked over her, noting her sickly pallor and her trembling as she drew away. When she turned her face towards him, his frowned deepened at the ugly bruising on her face and the swelling around her eye. She did not, however, raise her gaze higher than his chest.

I-I am fine, she whispered, lowering her eyes. He frowned at her submissive demeanor. I just… need to… I just need to get to the healers. Then it will all be fine again.

…Again? Without a second thought, he picked the slight woman up in his arms and resumed the climb. Someone did this to you, he stated, keeping his eyes forward. He pressed his lips together when she hid her face against his chest, shaking with fear, her head making a negating motion after some hesitation.

It-it isn't Chak's fault, the woman whispered. He just… drinks too much sometimes and gets mad and… I should know not to make him mad. Valerian hushed her as he crested the stairs and strode towards the great doors. The sunlight glinted off the mark on his cheek as the cowl of his travel cloak slipped back. The guards at the door stared for a heartbeat before jumping to open the doors as he approached.

An older woman bearing a master's sigil pendant around her neck hurried to the two, her expression creased with worry. Oh, Ana, not again, she lamented. Unsvet, please follow me. Ana looked up and met the eyes of her benefactor. She fainted from shock. Valerian tightened his arms around her. When they reached a small, private room, he laid her on the low couch as gently as he could.

The Unsvet stood nearby, watching the healer as she rested her hands on the unconscious woman's brow and chest over her heart. The wounds faded and disappeared. Ana relaxed as the pain eased. Once done, the healer sighed, remaining by her side, stroking her hair. Thank you, Unsvet. If she had been much longer, I would have been unable to heal her.

If you know this happened, why did you not simply go to her? Valerian asked, his disapproval apparent.

The healer sighed as she turned away to get a blanket from a cabinet. The Grand Master Healer dictates that we remain on the temple grounds except upon his approval. And only then with adequate escort. Otherwise, those who are in need of healing must come to us. She draped the blanket over the sleeping girl. Ana lives and works at a tavern near the docks. Sometimes, she cannot get permission to leave to seek healing until it is too late. You have heard of my daughter Taylin? The master healer Dusvet Guardian Almek spirited away from us? Valerian nodded when she glanced over her shoulder at him. Caressing Ana's hair, she said, It was people like Ana that inspired Taylin. She simply refused to accept that anyone had to suffer because too much time had passed and somehow found a way to heal them despite the passage of time.

This lack of help because someone cannot get to this temple in time or at all happens often? Valerian's dark scowl forced the healer to avert her eyes. That borders on being criminal. Why does the temple allow this?

Turning pale eyes up to meet Valerian's, the infinite shame and sadness in their depths startled him. Because we are forbidden, she stated. "Arman changed the old traditions decades ago because we healers… we are too vulnerable beyond our walls. Depending on the severity of injuries or ravages of illness, it can be nearly fatal to a healer. As it is, we are often left weak. After several of our healers were abducted and later found tortured to death, Arman… was angered that no one had tried to protect them. He felt that as much as we healers gave, those we served owed us at least the courtesy of protection.

Since then, he believes that if the need is great enough, supplicants can either come to us, or provide adequate protection for a journeyman or master to go to them. Her expression was disapproving. As time has passed, his definition for 'adequate' has gotten prohibitive to any but our region's king, perhaps one of the richer noble houses. I have tried to convince him to relax his demands, but he is unwavering.

Forcing himself to relax and suppress directing his anger towards this healer, Valerian observed, You do not agree with your grand master.

She shook her head. I do not. Healers could most assuredly protect themselves, if we taught them the necessary skills. But such skills are terrifying, especially when those beyond our temple learn of them,. We heard rumors that because someone learned of these abilities, they attacked the healers. He was certain they were the reason that someone preyed upon us. So Arman forbade their practice and denies their very existence. All because, in his eyes, we who worked to keep others from suffering were abandoned to suffer.

What are these forbidden arts?

She waved Valerian to join her by the window that looked out into a wide courtyard below, keeping her voice hushed. We call it the art of sensory manipulation. It had always been controversial. Most assume the ability to quell pain is part of the gift of healing, and Arman encourages that mistaken knowledge.

Healing is a painful process. Valerian closed his eyes against the memories. I was fortunate to have encountered a healer during one of my journeys. However, at the time, I would have rathered death than to endure being healed.

She smiled faintly. Indeed. Our sect perfected sensory manipulation. Pleasure, pain, numbing both. All of it. Until Arman forbade all but blunting pain from being taught. She hesitated. There was a side effect of being able to manipulate senses. We can also sense what others do. Taylin was gifted… or cursed… to be able to sense others' pain. Taylin grew up with Arman's edicts. Since he prohibited the soothing of pain without healing their accompanying injuries, she found a way to heal regardless of the passage of time. She also would sneak off the grounds to seek out those suffering like Ana.

Pain, pleasure, and other sensations. I imagine it is disconcerting to many to discover someone can make them feel anything. Watching the activity below, Valerian spotted Tobias hurrying across the yard and being stopped by an older man. Tobias stood before him, his eyes averted but shoulders unbowed, as the man scolded him. The Guardian frowned when the older man grabbed Tobias by the ear and hauled him after him. What has that young man done to be treated so callously?

The woman sighed. If I had to guess, Journeyman Tobias slipped off the temple grounds to seek out people in need of healing. Her eyes followed the interplay with Tobias. I wish Arman would not do that to the boy. It is difficult enough for him, being so young a journeyman among the others. He chafes at being kept from practicing our art.

What marks the difference between a master and a journeyman? Valerian wondered. Are there skills a journeyman has yet to learn?

No, Journeyman Tobias has mastered all the skills. It is more a matter of practice to grow in strength and awareness. Learning the techniques by lore is entirely different than using them in practice. A small smile touched the woman's lips. Taylin was forever defying Arman. She always strove to bring comfort to those suffering. She glanced sideways. It is why I taught our children the forbidden arts. If they are going to sneak out of the temple, I want them to at least be able to defend themselves if necessary. She looked at him. I do hope you will keep that knowledge in confidence, Unsvet Guardian.

Valerian smiled, and inclined his head. I would not betray your secrets, Master Healer. I agree with your sentiment. While I can sympathize with the desire to shield those we love from the ugliness in the world, your temple's disciples should know the cold reality of the world. Perhaps it would inspire them. He paused and added, Just so you know. I have seen Master Taylin. She has been a great boon to the Dusvet Guardian.

She is doing well? The woman closed her eyes in a wash of utter relief colored with gratitude for the news. Thank you. She may not believe it, but I have worried after her. She did not leave here on the best terms.

Have you taught any others these forbidden arts, Master Healer?

You may call me Caryla. And I teach all those who aspire to step beyond the walls of our home the forbidden arts. As temple second, I would not consent to a journeyman or master promotion without that training, even if Arman is unaware of it. It is easy enough to unintentionally discover the skills for other sensations, given we teach how to suppress pain. Better to know than stumble in ignorance.

She turned back to check on Ana, touching the too skinny girl's brow in concern. She has not been eating, poor thing.

Valerian studied Ana's pale and drawn face. Is she indentured to the owner of this tavern?

Unfortunately. Her parents were poor and could not afford to keep her. Despite the harsh life she endures, she has a good heart. Albeit, she qualified with sadness, her spirit is… broken. But it is not the owner who abuses her. One of his bouncers. I am not certain why he keeps the man, except that it is a rough crowd that frequents the place.

When Ana awakens, have her remain here until I return from speaking with Grand Master Arman. His eyes reflected his simmering anger. I will escort her home.

The healer nodded with a knowing look in her eye. I will have one of the acolytes escort you to Arman. She added after a pause, Please do not mention Taylin to my husband. Remembering her defiance sends him into a fit of pique.

I have dealt with fits of pique by those many decades older than Grand Master Arman, Master Caryla. I will survive the encounter unscathed. Caryla could not help but laugh as he added, I cannot make any promises for Master Arman's ego.

Chapter 5

The utter arrogance and naivety of a man with his experience just utterly astounds me! Valerian seethed as he stepped onto the street from the healing temple's steps, shadowed by the emaciated, skittish Ana. I all but begged for the temple's help, but he thinks I am not enough protection for any of his healers? Foolishness! He tugged his travel cloak harder than he needed. I'd half a mind of showing him exactly how dangerous one of the Timeless One's Guardians truly is.

By his side, Ana hunched deeper into her own travel cloak as he fumed. I am sorry, Unsvet Guardian, she offered in a trembling voice.

He looked sharply at her and sighed, rubbing his temple. Forgive me for losing my temper, Ana. I am not blaming you in the least.

After a moment, she said, If you say so, Unsvet Guardian.

As they neared the tavern, he paused, putting a hand on her shoulder, pressing his lips together in irritation when she flinched at his touch. Ana. His firm voice drew her eyes up to meet his. I promise you. You will not need to fear anymore.

But Chak, she began, falling silent when he put a light finger over her lips. Nodding, she lowered her eyes again, falling in step with him.

Nearing the noon hour, the tavern was teeming with customers, the air hazy with smoke from oil lamps and pipes. Parting from Valerian's side, Ana had taken only a few steps inside when a rough, booming voice cut through the din. There you are! A huge man, more fat than muscular with bloodshot eyes lurched out of his corner seat and stalked towards her. Where the hell've you been? Can't you see how busy it is?

The eyes that had turned to look at the confrontation quickly looked away as people did their best to ignore the bullying. Ana trembled as she replied, I-I was at the healing temple. Did-didn't Master tell you?

Bah. Damned healers. You thought you needed a healer before, girl? Chak raised his hand, ready to backhand Ana. She cringed, instinctively putting her arms over her head. I'll give you a reason—

Excuse me, Valerian interrupted, putting a hand up to block Chak's blow. I would like to speak with the owner of this place about this woman.

Chak glowered at Valerian, looking him over and noting his garments were far better than what most present wore. He glowered over at the older, slender man behind the bar who started to come out from behind. You have business here, you can take it up with me.

Valerian narrowed his eyes at Chak. I am given to understand Ana is indentured to this tavern. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a pouch swollen with coins. I would like to pay her debt.

Ana looked up sharply in shock. Pay my debt? she echoed in a disbelieving whisper.

Chak's face darkened with fury as he fixed his look on the girl. You think you're going to escape just because you gave this pansy a blow? Pulling back his fist, he aimed a punch at the cringing girl. But the blow did not connect as Valerian raised his hand in a casual gesture. The man's arm became immobile, frozen in time.

Reaching up to lower the cowl of his cloak, Valerian narrowed his eyes on Chak. The entire tavern went dead silent after a ripple of whispered Guardian! raced through. Ana did not ask me for her freedom nor 'do' anything to convince me to do so. With a gentle touch, he took Ana by the arm and pulled her out of the path of Chak's punch. The Guardian made a dismissive gesture. The massive man stumbled a few steps to regain his balance when his arm was released. Any man with a shred of honor would protect a child such as this. Abusing someone weaker than you just proves you are a coward and unworthy of your gender.

Chak growled at Valerian, inebriated to the point that he either could not clearly see the mark on Valerian's cheek or his pride was greater than his sense. With an inarticulate shout, Chak started to rush Valerian with the clear intention of doing him severe bodily harm. Valerian stepped to the side, keeping Ana behind him as he grabbed Chak's greasy hair and jerked back. The Vodani glared into Chak's eyes. The man's eyes went wide in terror as his flesh rippled and began to sag as he aged years before everyone's eyes.

Shoving Chak away in disgust, he turned his back on the now decrepit old man struggling on his hands and knees on the floor. As he wiped his hands on his tunic, his eyes scanned the room, his anger vivid on his face. All eyes quickly focused on drinks, meals or knotholes in tables. He fixed his attention on the nervous owner who approached, unable to speak. Valerian offered the pouch of coins to the man, dropping it in his open palm. This should settle Ana's debt. I will also require food and a room for the night. There should be plenty left over to generously cover everything. I will be leaving Surthan in the morning after I send my report to Fortress.

The owner nodded, stammering, Of-of course, Unsvet Guardian. I will… I will have Ana bring your meal to your—

Find someone else. Ana is no longer your concern, Valerian stated tonelessly. Putting his hand on her shoulder, his demeanor gentled. He guided the stunned girl towards the stairs, snatching the key from the equally stunned older woman at the bar. Locking the door to the room, Valerian grumbled under his breath. However, when he turned towards the room, he stared at Ana for a moment, the young woman having started to take her clothes off.

He jumped to catch her by the wrists. Don't do that.

She looked up, stricken. But… but, master—

No. I do not want you to call me or anyone else 'master' ever again, Ana, Valerian stated firmly. Not unless it is a title earned by skill mastery. He saddened as the young woman looked even more lost, realizing that if he left her behind, he would be abandoning her to the mercies of this merciless city. He considered the options for a time. You know how to wash and mend clothing? How to prepare food and drink? When she nodded, he stated, Then that is how I wish you to serve me.

I am sorry I am so ugly, Ana whispered. That you don't even want to touch—

Valerian tilted her chin upwards, waiting until he caught her tear-filled gaze. You are not ugly, Ana. A good person does not impose themselves on a gentle soul such as yours. Your company and your assistance while I travel is all I ask for in return for your freedom. But for now, I wish you to go gather all of your belongings and bring them here. I doubt anyone will be fool enough to harm you, knowing I am here watching over you, but take care regardless. Ana managed a timid smile and nod, waiting for him to unlock the door to leave the room.

Latching the door again, Valerian turned back and dropped his backpack on the table with a gusty sigh. "How things have changed in so little time, mistress.