A Preview of
The Children of the Anarii II
The Awakening
from Chapter 4
Communion Council opened at dusk. It began with the gathering of the Mirii High Council, those Elders who had made the long journey from their distant holds and wards. To the center of the encampment they met, in a large circular area lit by dozens of light spheres hovering overhead. Once assembled, the Council members moved to their hold and ward banners which were held aloft in the outer ring by a strong Aza chosen to bear each standard. Five Elders stood before each hold banner; one Visioner, two Healers and two Aza, while three stood before the smaller wards; Visioner, Healer and Aza, those present representing their full councils for the members who remained behind.
In the open field stood the Mediator, Daskan, Elder Visioner and his assistant, Makett, Senior Aza Tor from Varan's Reach Ward. As the Elder called the ceremony to begin he occasionally leaned upon the younger man when his staff became less than adequate. With the opening words complete and the ceremony begun, the two walked to their standard where the Elder was given a chair to further conduct the event while Bekaal, his watchful First Elder Healer, looked on.
Daskan smiled. Though his strength was on the wan, his mind and spirit were full of temper. Be calm, Beloved, he sent privately to Bekaal as she tried not to hover over him. I will outlast many of those standing.
The circle of Elders was completed with the joining of the other members of their camp moving to stand behind each standard and creating a ring about the area. At a nod from Daskan, the newest Mirii, the Chosen Talents who had successfully meld with their Azerii the night before, entered and their names rang out in the clear evening air, the bright promise of their voices lifting into the oncoming night. As each gave their name, linked with their Azerii, they also named the hold or ward they chose as their next destination. Then, with the consenting voices from their Elders, they moved to the banner that marked their new home.
Daskan watched and listened as the Talents were brought in next. With each name given, two of the Aza of the hold or ward that claimed them would step forward to ask the young person a few questions. Then, with the Aza's approval, the Talent was guided into their camp gathering. As the last of the nervous Talents stepped into the circle, his Azerii informed him of the appearance of the Talent that had been so heatedly discussed in their earlier conclave. A tall young woman arrived, dressed in Talents’ garb of golden tan, her dark blond hair cascading around her shoulders, her aura still revealing the golden glow of the Forbidden. She held herself rigid; about her he sensed the fluttering presence of two meld Azerii. She was last in line; purposely placed to draw the least attention, or the most, he wondered.
Morgana stepped to the center of the circle, the ring of faces around her edging her unease higher. As she stopped where the last Talent before her had, and gave her name to the waiting assembly, two figures approached from her left, the gold and black banner of Zerren's Gate Hold lifting in the slight breeze behind them. Two Aza; the man tall and broad-chested, his wavy black hair clipped short around his tanned face; the woman fair-haired and bronze skinned, her slight frame moving easily towards her alongside her companion. They stopped before her, their faces impassive in the light of the spheres.
"Morgana Brejjard, how did you come to join our Communion?" The man spoke first, his deep voice carrying the tone of command.
"I was brought by Aza Har Rejat of Lasah and Healer Elas of Zerren's Gate," she replied, remembering the words her aunt had shared with her of this ceremony.
"Did you come by your own choice?" the woman asked her, her voice holding a softness that did not match her appearance.
"Yes."
"What is your intent?" The man spoke again, his dark eyes narrowing with his words.
"To be Mirii," she stated solemnly, her gaze locked on his. He raised his dark brows at her response then nodded to his companion.
"So be it. Morgana Brejjard, do you swear to uphold the Covenant and protect your fellow Mirii and the meld Azerii, and to obey the wisdom of your Elders?" His gaze became more intense as if he would seek out the truth from her heart.
"Yes, I will—" she began, but her response was abruptly cut short by the overwhelming of her senses when an unspoken scream ripped through her head, the noise stunning the gathering of Mirii as well. She looked up, seeing the dark sky above suddenly brilliant with the lights of the meld Azerii as they took to the air, abandoning their Mirii. The rushing of thousands of voices cried out in her mind and Morgana found herself unable to move, just as those around her, their gazes also locked on the sky. Wild emotions of pain, fear and anger crashed through her, pushing and shoving her awareness from her body to the frantic Azerii that swerved in circles across the night sky, until they abruptly disappeared.
A hu’man cry before her yanked Morgana’s attention back to the earth. She looked past the two stunned Aza to see the fire-blackened forms of two people that had not been there a moment before. Kneeling on the flattened grasses, a man's ruined face greeted her, his eyes filled with pain. "Varan's—Varan's Reach is burning!" he cried, then lowered his head and clutched the still form of a badly-burned woman tighter to his chest, her body limp in his arms.
Morgana stepped forward, her expanded awareness promptly drawing her towards the injured pair, but the strong arms of the two Aza stopped her, holding her in place while several other Mirii rushed toward the two figures. They pulled her away to the now-ragged outer circle, depositing her with Zerren's Gate Hold's other waiting Talents. Elas was there as well and reached for her, her own emotions barely in control. "Varan's Reach—it's Rejat's Vision—its come to pass," she moaned to her niece, her thoughts too garbled to send coherently.
Drek'h quickly joined them, his arms claiming her shoulders as if needing her to steady himself. "He teleported from Varan's—they were attacked—" His voice failed him, his senses, like many, swimming with the shock of the injured Mirii's words.
"Daskan! Healers, attend! Attend!" shouted another, his deep voice cutting through the chaos, demanding their attention. Morgana turned from Elas and Drek'h's shocked gaze to the gathering beyond, now splitting apart as several rushed to the Varan's Reach banner.
Daskan is ill! The mind voice of another broke through her shock. A hush began to fall over the assembly and another Elder began to speak. "Silence! Let us have silence!" the deep male voice boomed over them. When most had complied he spoke again, striding to the fore to be seen by all. "Honored Elders, hold and ward members," he began, his tall frame rising above with his voice. "As Council Elder of Lasah I ask that our gathering be complete for this evening. Our Honored Elder Daskan is ill; Varan's Reach Ward is in danger. Please return to your camps for this night. Your councils will inform you of your duties on the morrow," he said crisply, then turned back to his hold members.
Morgana's gaze returned to the center of the field as two Healers carried the still form of the woman from the gathering. Behind them, several other Healers clustered around the man, his cries lessening with their attention to his injuries. A tall Elder Healer began to direct them, ordering two Aza Tors to carry the man away from the field towards Zerren's Gate Hold's camp.
"That's E'sar, and Bannist, they are taking him to Zerren's Gate," Elas mumbled absently, naming the two Elder Healers leading the party from the circle.
A pale-faced Rejat suddenly appeared beside her and took her hand. "Elas, Dayana has collapsed."
Morant stepped up behind them. "Elas, go to Lasah’s camp, with Rejat. Drek'h, take Morgana to my quarters," he said roughly and pushed his daughters before him towards Lasah's tents before turning to see to the rest of his hold members.
from Chapter 5
As the moon began to rise over the distant Coumar Mountains, Elas numbly followed Rejat across the broad Mirii encampment. Around them, an uneasy silence fell through the many tents and pavilions. The Mirii were in shock; confusion and fear swept through the camp, with the images from the burned Teleport of the destruction of Varan's Reach Ward. Elas could see the Aza assisting other members with high empathic talents, those whose senses had been most affected by the frightening images, to their quarters to rest and to ‘pushed’ sleep by the Healers.
Elas stumbled as the images began to rise beyond her mind shield and into her thoughts once more. Rejat quickly caught her elbow, then tugged on her arm to hurry her towards her mother's pavilion and out of the charged atmosphere that surrounded them. As her gaze touched the faces of those they passed, a disturbing realization formed in her mind. We have been found! But why had one of their well-hidden wards been attacked? And who would want the destruction of their smallest and most remote holding, when it had been hundreds of years since their holdings had been outwardly threatened by any of the Outerland Peoples? Who would do this?
With Rejat's hand on her arm, Elas could feel the emotion that boiled from her sister's body. She knew instantly all the Aza desired revenge, immediate and sure, but they struggled to force their anger back from their thoughts, as their training dictated. The Mirii do not kill, the First Law echoed from Rejat's thoughts endlessly, a chant to soothe and quiet the Aza Har’s troubled mind.
When they reached Lasah's tents, they were met by two of their Aza. Names passed Elas' awareness when they were recognized and the Aza turned away, letting Rejat lead her to the Elder Visioner’s pavilion. Over the entry a single sphere light hovered and Dayana's Talent aides stood to either side, their faces masked with frozen expressions as they held their mind shields high to deflect the turmoil that churned around them.
"Talent Merrin, this is Healer Elas, Sha Dayana's daughter," Rejat said curtly when one of the young women took a step toward them. The Talent nodded quickly and stepped back and her companion moved the doorcloth aside for them to enter.
Inside they were met by another of Lasah’s Elders. "Rejat, Elas, you’re here," Carda said distractedly, her hands clenched before her. "Dayana sleeps now; it is good you came."
Elas reached for her hand. "Sha Carda, Rejat said Dayana—my mother collapsed?" she asked as her sight took in the softly lit tent. Behind Carda the center divider was closed. The Elder nodded, her free hand swinging to the cloth behind her.
"Yes, with the appearance—" The Elder broke off, her eyes abruptly filling with tears. She shook her head and Elas could feel the Healer push her shield higher.
"Sha Carda, you must rest too," Elas said, clasping her hand tighter and pushing her own skills up. "Let Rejat take you to your quarters and I will stay with my mother."
Carda raised her sight to the taller woman, a deep sigh escaping her lips. "Very well, Elas, but I will send my Senior to assist you if you need it. Dayana should sleep for the rest of the night if I've pushed her enough," the Elder returned, her round face tightening briefly as concern for her peer revealed itself. "She is stubborn, as well you know. Do not hesitate to push her to sleep again." She patted Elas' hand, then turned to the tent doorway as Rejat stepped to assist her.
Elas watched them go, her thoughts running through her chaotically. As the silence beyond touched her once more she turned to the tent divider and stepped past it. A small light sphere sat on the floor in the far corner, casting long shadows over her mother where she lay on her sleeping pallet, a pale blanket drawn up to her shoulders, her bare arms lying at her sides over the soft cover. Elas knelt at her side, then raised her hand over her mother's heart and began to scan. A flash of a white Kir-Latt rose into her inner-sight and she snapped her hand back in surprise. The image stared at her in silence, its silver eyes calm as it observed her.
She opened her mind to the Kir-Latt, wishing her Azerii was present. Brother Kir-Latt? How may I assist you? she sent, her thoughts edged with concern.
The daughter gives me greater than the mother, the Kir-Latt replied, a tone of surprise in the echoing mind voice. It is well that one of the blood listens to my words.
Elas sat back on her heels. Your words, Brother Kir-Latt?
Yes. My words, and the words of the Others who are crying for their soul's long sleep. Sit, listen, Sister Healer, Sister Mirii, for the words I have for you are not for all. Sit, and dream, Sister Healer, the Kir-Latt intoned and Elas felt her body crying out for the sleep she desired. A strange compliance swept through her and she moved from her mother's side to the empty pallet beside the divider and stretched out, her inner-sight still filled with the face of the white Kir-Latt. She closed her eyes and found her breath lengthen into quiet calm, deep and as still as the shining lake that lay beside the Mirii camp. Dream, Sister Mirii, Sister Healer, the Kir-Latt’s voice echoed, rising and falling gently, luring her to welcome sleep.
She soon found herself in a hall. The great curving walls that rose to crown over her head told her she was in the Visioners Hall at Lasah. The end of the long room was filled with a darkness that seemed to swallow her senses when she looked too long upon it, and behind her as she turned were double rows of matching columns that appeared to go on forever, like a mirror illusion, rows upon rows stretching back toward the closed entry door. In front of the door on a low platform was the High Visioners Throne; a great chair carved from cedarjinn wood and embellished with swirling suns, stars and planets over its red and gold enameled surface.
A voice whispered in her head, Take your place, and she saw herself walking toward the throne, her footsteps soft on the black crystalline floor. When she reached the throne she saw a white crown-like circlet hovering over the high back, and a pair of pale hands reaching out from the shadows towards the circlet, to claim, or release, she wondered. Take your place, the words pushed her forward again and she finally sat down, then looked down at her knees. She was now dressed in Visioner's white; a flowing gown fell from her throat to her feet. She raised her hands to rest on the chair's broad arms; her rich red coat had changed to palest cream with white, gold and pink iridescence shimmering through the sleeves and down the front panels that fell past her knees.
Healer Elas, hear me, the voice commanded and the white Kir-Latt stepped from the darkness before her, its broad crest falling around the noble face. Hear the words that I say. A time of crisis is coming before your People, before all the Hu’mans, the Kir-Latt sent as it walked towards her. Behind it the darkness was now filled with stars flickering in a great void. The beast stopped a few paces before the platform, its head rising higher than her shoulders. The silver eyes that caught her sight seemed huge and luminous like the moon. Hear me. You must hear me and listen to the Others, for One is coming that will break the chains of your Covenant and set the Others free. Listen to them; take their words with you when you depart the great Lady's lake.
What shall I do with their words? Elas quested, her unease rippling from her heart. And who are these Others that you speak of?
The white Kir-Latt turned its head away, to look toward the beckoning darkness where the stars danced still. The Others you will know when they speak. As for what you are to do, you are to be The Observer, the one who waits, the one who watches, in silence, until the Becoming is complete. Then you will speak to the One who will bring the Knowing to your world. You will assist the One, along with the others who will follow. The Kir-Latt paused, turning its head back to Elas. The great eyes began swirling with their own light, drawing her awareness into their depths. As she watched another image formed behind it in the star-filled darkness. A new scene emerged with several figures appearing to be walking towards her across the open Sumarkh under the light of a full moon, the stars glimmering above them as well. The first she recognized was Morgana; beside her stepped Drek'h and Rejat, their Azerii surrounding and lighting their faces. Behind them came Callent, with Sarduk'h, Tren, Madeh, and the three Vondarii had Mirii-red markings on their chza-hide tunics replacing their clan marks. Behind Callent walked another, a Vondarii woman of elder years unknown to Elas' sight, while above them the Unnamed Azerii danced amongst the stars.
The others will follow, the Kir-Latt's voice echoed through her and she raised her sight past the companions. In the distance she could just make out the moving forms of other hu’mans—Mirii, Vondarii, Foresters and more; they seemed to come from several directions moving calmly over the grassland, to meet on the one path, then turning towards her and following Morgana's footsteps.
The others will follow…. The scene behind the Kir-Latt shifted to the endless depths once more, the stars now hidden by an unseen shadow. A presence began to fill the void and Elas instantly knew what waited there. It was the Dark Azerii.
A question filled her mind and she voiced the words that appeared. "How long have you waited?"
From the sole of the darkness a pair of eyes appeared; dark red and angry, they stared back at her, piercing her senses. A voice heavy with malevolence reached her. We have waited and waited. You promised us life, but you lied to us. There was no life in the giving at Communion. The Covenant was a lie. You gave us only the memories, only a taste. It was not enough, we want more! the Voice thundered, reverberating through her body, echoing with countless others behind it. More eyes appeared, dwarfed by the first. Where the stars had been, now thousands of glowing eyes reached out to her, their words consuming her mind. Elas shuddered, struggling to raise her shields as they continued toward her.
We burn, we hunger, we see through our eyes, the eyes of our Soul Complete. But we want to know what is it that keeps you returning for more life. Through the joy and pain you come back. Why? Why can't we do this also? Because of the Mirii. Because of the Lie, the Voices rasped, their formless energy pushing at her shields. With the Kir-Latt between them as calm barrier they subsided their efforts, their many voices falling to hushed mutterings behind the invisible wall of the Covenant that held them. Only the first held its stance, its blood-red eyes seeming to grow larger in Elas' inner-sight.
I have waited long enough, it finally spoke, the dark mind voice a cold whisper. I will find the One. The way to the joining shall be mine! it unexpectedly shouted and Elas stiffened when its energy formed the image of a dagger in her mind and abruptly thrust at her heart.
Elas jolted awake, finding her body drenched in sweat where she lay on the pallet beside her sleeping mother.
Remember this, the voice of the white Kir-Latt whispered in her head and she saw its silver eyes again in her inner-sight. Remember this, and be The Observer, until the One is complete. Then a soft touch brushed across her forehead, and the now-calming presence of the white Kir-Latt’s swept her once more into a deep and dreamless sleep.
from Chapter 14
The Coumar Mountains loomed high and majestic over the eastern rim of the plateau, their rugged peaks brushed with the first white breath of autumn's touch. As the Sumarkh Plateau rose to meet the foothills, the trees began to return in sparse clumps that braced against the endless wind that seemed to spring from the waving grassland. The wind tugged everywhere, pulling and pushing the inhabitants of the plateau towards the frost-draped heights, the only respite from its embrace in the cold envelope of the night.
Morgana wrapped her cloak tighter about her shoulders as she stared out over the golden lands of the Sumarkh. With the setting of the sun came the closeness of the season's breath, drawing the Mirii to the warmth of their cloaks and myriad coats and to the campfires that sprung up quickly from the midst of the evening's camp. Sudden gusts slapped at her hair and sent her clothing twisting about, as if in defiance of the coming night that drew the wind away but left its chill behind in its wake. She watched as a small herd of Lii, their manes and tails flying, slipped away to the west, the First Stallion and Starrynn leading the others to some haven for the night. Watching them, she felt a pulling at her senses, as if urging her to follow. It whispered through her mind and echoed wordlessly beyond her mind shield.
Her shield; for four days now they had traveled across the Sumarkh from the Communion camp, her mind shield held tightly in place around her as she was instructed. The familiar voices had begun again, calling her away from the safety of the Mirii and the meld Azerii, calling her towards the rolling freedom of the Sumarkh. She toyed with the thought of releasing her shield to listen to the voices and try to understand why they called her so frequently. Do the other Talents hear them too? Do they wonder what would happen if they listened? she wondered as she studied the lowering land behind them.
She turned when another approached her. Rejat's face held traces of her exhaustion from their long ride. All the Aza appeared tired, their expressions full of worry as they scanned their surroundings along their journey. The wild Azerii appeared frequently in sudden numbers, harassing all with their cries. Only at camp did they remain separate, the presence of the light-form meld Azerii forcing them to retreat.
Rejat stopped beside her. "What draws your eyes to the Sumarkh behind us?"
Morgana watched the last glow of the sun slip away before answering. "The Voices call. And I want to answer. But I don't know how." She turned to face her companion. "Is that wrong?"
The Aza Har's face screwed awry. "To the Mirii, yes. To you, I don't know." She rubbed her hands over her arms as another gust caught at them. "Come on, you’re supposed to be with the Healers."
They turned from the hillock, Morgana grabbing her pack and saddle, and started for the center of camp where the Healers gathered with their charges and the other Talents and Elders. Her eyes scanned over the eighty-five members, noting the wariness that marked the Aza's preparations for the night and catching glimpses in the failing light of those she knew. The three Vondarii sat with Callent, their eyes brushing over her as she crossed the field. She smiled to them briefly, then returned her gaze to the Aza Har before her. Sarduk'h's words rose to plague her mind, their meaning still unanswered by the older Hunter. She had had little opportunity to speak to any besides Rejat and the other Talents, the journey's demands capturing their time completely. Even Drek'h, who assisted the Healers, was busy much of the journey, and joined the other Aza at nightfall to assist in guarding the hold members.
Amongst the other Talents she and Rejat stopped to drop their belongings to the ground. Neemara lifted her gaze to her and smiled. She patted the ground beside her and sent, Come, join me so we can talk. Her eyes danced away briefly to the other Talents. I have asked if Tuli will join us. Do you mind? She needs the comfort.
Morgana followed her gesture, moving her gear beside her and pushing her longings aside. They would have to wait. Have you asked Sha Bannist about Tuli? she sent, nodding to Rejat's departing wave.
Neemara frowned briefly as she pulled her cloak tighter against a sudden gust of wind. She says Tuli's fears will swallow her. She raised her eyes to her companion. Do you understand?
Morgana closed her eyes for a moment as a quick tingling brushed her forehead. She will be consumed by her fear and will take action totally from fear?
Yes. She will allow her fear to guide her. She rubbed her hands together briskly. She will be unable to see and interpret her Visions clearly as long as she fears them.
Morgana's gaze shifted to their right as one of the Aza Tors and his Azerii began to prepare the ground for a fire. She watched him silently and thought about Neemara's words. What were her fears? In the past she had thought she had few, then she left her home and joined the Mirii. Now she felt she was surrounded by her fears, especially since Communion.
The Azerii placed several branches in the prepared area and his Mirii brought the fire to life with the instant approval of the watching Talents. As they moved closer he smiled to their faces, his Azerii disappearing from their circle. "Who will tend your fire tonight?" he asked as his gaze swept over them.
"I will," Morgana said as if prompted, surprised when the words fell from her lips. She turned guilty eyes to Neemara who only smiled and nodded.
"I will assist her." Her companion stood and edged closer. "Show her the barrier, Aza Kass. She hasn't seen it yet."
The Aza Tor looked down at Morgana, motioning her closer to the warmth. "Didn't your journey companions show you the fire barrier?" he asked, his voice rising with surprise at her ignorance.
"They were busy showing me other things," Morgana replied defensively.
"They probably forgot, Aza Kass. Talents can't create the fire barrier anyway." Neemara took Morgana's hand. "Watch the center of the fire and see the ring around it. You will see it shimmer if only you don't look directly at it." She pointed to the rim of the fire's circle. "Do you see it?"
Morgana focused on the flames, remembering the shimmering Veil Elas and Rejat had used to hide them from onlookers on their journey to Communion. A slippery shimmer danced at the perimeter of the burning wood, but only when her gaze centered on the fire. When she looked directly at the earth and grasses beside the flames, the shimmer was gone. "Yes, it's like the Veil."
Neemara squeezed her hand. "Good. That is how we leave no mark upon the ground."
The Aza Tor nodded. "When we leave we remove any fire left in the coals and scatter the remains to the winds. The land is undamaged, and we return the camp to the Lady." He handed her a long branch of wood to use to prod the fire. "You do know how to tend a fire?" His eyes challenged her with amusement.
Morgana returned his gaze equally. "I think I can manage," she said dryly and took the offered limb. His gaze brushed her length and he nodded before turning away. She watched his departure then turned to Neemara while the other Talents moved their bedding closer to the fire.
He likes you, Sharna sent abruptly to Morgana; she turned, seeing the other Talent’s face holding traces of hidden emotions behind her smile. She flicked her gaze past Morgana then turned away to speak to Vess as he began to unpack his bedroll beside hers.
"Morgana, look. Here comes Tuli and Kerras." Neemara touched Morgana's arm and looked to the two Talents joining their gathering. She looks so sad and afraid, she sent privately. She rose and stepped over to greet Tuli, guiding her toward Morgana. Kerras stopped on the far side of the fire and watched them, his eyes expressionless behind his mind shield.
Morgana knelt once again before the fire as they joined her. She clasped Tuli's hand and sent, Are you ill?
The fair-haired younger woman shook her head. "No, I'm all right. I'm just tired. I saw—" Tuli began then stopped abruptly, her hand rising quickly to her lips. "Nothing, it's . . . it’s nothing," she said softly, her eyes downcast.
"Tuli, can you tell us?" Neemara embraced her thin shoulders with one arm. "Maybe we can help."
"No, I can't, Sha Ruthenn said I must tell only her, and—oh!" She flashed her anxious gaze to Morgana. "I can't tell you," she whispered.
Morgana felt her skin tingle. What—it’s about me? She grew aware of the heat of the fire beside her suddenly cooling.
"I can't tell you." Tuli's eyes pleaded then slipped to Neemara, begging for her assistance. "Please, Morgana, I'm not supposed to tell anyone but Sha Ruthenn."
Neemara glanced at Morgana, her arm still about Tuli’s shoulders. "It's all right, Tuli. We understand." She hugged her close. "Come, tell us about your day. Was your Aza companion anymore talkative than yesterday?" As Neemara strove to calm the nervous Talent with her distracting words, she began helping her set up her bedding for the night, placing Tuli between herself and Morgana.
It's about me, Morgana thought as she listened to their talk and turned her gaze to the fire, its heat penetrating her senses. She has had a Vision about me, I know it. Her eyes drifted to her hands, catching the golden shimmer over her skin. On their journey she had discovered she could lessen the brilliance of her forbidden aura, and so draw less attention to herself. But still she caught the worried glances from the Mirii, especially the Aza, when their eyes lingered upon her.
She did have a Vision about you. The male voice in her head was cold and controlled. Morgana raised her gaze beyond the fire and caught the glint in Kerras' eyes.
What was it? Did she tell you? she sent calmly, masking the beating of her heart.
Kerras never moved, his gaze remaining locked on hers. No, I just know.
Anger flared in Morgana’s middle. Then why do you mock me with your thoughts?
The cold gaze shifted imperceptibly. You wanted to know, I simply informed you. I do not mock. He abruptly lowered his gaze and began rummaging through his pack, his mind once more shielded. She followed his movements until her mind slipped toward Drek'h. How similar in action in closing off their mind to another's emotions, she thought irritably, her own emotions still unanswered.
As the night drew close around them, the camp began to settle into an uneasy rhythm. Dancing shadows flickered in various patterns as the Mirii prepared their evening meal, and soft conversations rose from circles around the campfires. Morgana poked at the bright embers of their fire, listening to her companions talk of past ventures and promising changes. She spoke few words to their many, her own past seeming small in the light of their Mirii upbringing. Only Tuli and Kerras matched her in their subdued banter; the man withdrawing as was his apparent habit, Tuli merely listening with distracted fascination.
Her gaze lifted to the stars above them and she felt Drek'h's name rise again in her thoughts. Where was he? Her eyes dropped to their enclosing members, the Aza in small circles of their own ringing the night's encampment. Shadowed forms rose and fell in the darkness, faces she knew without any names as yet. Drek'h was not among them. She thought of calling Kitteryth, then froze when a face with a name reached the dancing firelight beyond their circle. Kellander walked amongst the gathering, his companion the Elder Visioner Ruthenn. His eyes met hers and lingered, the memory of their first meeting flashing briefly within her mind and then was gone. She looked away and found Kerras staring at her. She flicked her sight away again and met Ruthenn's gaze as she listened to the Aza Tor Teleport's words. A gentle smile of greeting slipped across the Elder's face before she looked up at the taller man beside her. Morgana found her gaze lifting with the Elder's and saw that Kellander's eyes were upon her still, until the pair moved beyond the reach of the embracing firelight.
And the journey continues...
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