Cassie moved swiftly and surely toward the pagoda in the distance where her trial awaited her. Her stomach was already churning.
Standing on the steps of the pagoda was an older man with hair that had already gone white. He was as fit and strong as a man half his age, and though he and Cassie shared no blood, she had clearly grown up in his image. "The prodigal daughter," Kotan said with a touch of wryness.
She planted her hands on her hips and demanded, "Why the hell haven't you responded to any of my messages? We're fighting a damned war out there! We struggled to get up and running; those promised units would have been useful, Father!"
He held up his hands placatingly. "Your messages only arrived just a few days ago. I was preparing to have the units start toward your base on the morrow." He studied her with a parent's knowing eye. "We have, of course, been pulling in information and rumor as they spread. I must say, you seem like an entirely different person. A year ago, you'd have never had an outburst like that." She set her chin in a stubborn line and he smiled. "It's good for you." He sighed. "Not that I was entirely happy when I first heard the phrase 'Tyrian Southerwind's lover' in reference to you."
"Does it help to know he was courting me the entire time and has since proposed marriage? And that we've adopted a little Faerie girl as our daughter?"
"Indeed! Ah, well. I can't imagine there's any person less likely to break your heart. I will journey with you to the base so I may meet my granddaughter properly." He took a deep breath and then let it out. "So you come for the Shrieking Relic. And not to merely take over my position. You will fuse it."
"The instant Tyrian got the Devourer, I knew that this was my future." Her gaze lowered. "I just needed the courage for it. I was intending to come here even before he was affected by Soul Fog." She paused and then frowned. She would need to ask Lane if by chance either of them, or both, might as yet be able to help Laia. Losing one of their best unit leaders for weeks was not good for anyone.
Kotan stepped aside. "Come inside, then. We must hurry." He glanced up as he heard murmuring, and he saw people gathering as they realized what was occurring. At twenty, Cassie was the youngest ever to challenge for leadership. But then, she had been the youngest to become a First Class—at seven!—and youngest to be a Tenth Class at the age of fifteen. Without question, she was the finest monk that had ever been born. Kotan had already decided that an Eleventh Class needed to be invented just for her.
The pagoda was oddly welcoming to Cassie as she walked inside. It felt like forever since she had been there. The straw mat on the floors, and the wooden walls, were nostalgic. She had spent so much time there. And though she would claim it as her own, she knew she would never live there again.
She went to the center of the main room and waited. Kotan placed Seeing Relics at each of the four corners of the large straw mat she stood on. Even though he would not see what she did, he already knew what she would confront. A year ago, he would have doubted she was ready. Now he held no doubt that she would survive.
The Seeing Relics activated and the pagoda went away from around Cassie. Her entire body tensed as wispy images began to fill the air. The Seeing Relics were attuned specifically to access the memories of the one confronting the trial. The trial was simple enough when it was pared down to the most basic component: the challenger had to face the moments in their life that defined them.
Kotan had passed a fairly simple trial when he had taken it on. The hardest thing to face had been the death of his wife to a plague. But Cassie . . . too much tragedy had lined her young life.
The memories were average enough at first. Cassie saw herself starting monk training at the age of three; again, young for it, but showing promising skill. It was one of the most defining parts of her life, and it did not surprise her to see it.
But then the screaming started. It was as raw and fresh as the day it had occurred. She watched herself as a child, running away through the forests between Foresalia and Empire. She was clutching her mother's hand while stumbling over roots and branches. The screams tore apart the trees as the soldiers chased them. An accident. Her family had come upon a secret village of Faeries and Elves in the forest just as Foresalia had.
Blood began to seep up under her feet. A shudder ran through her body as she watched her father fall right in front of her. She wanted to run. She wanted to run and hide and not see this ever again. She even found herself backing up, but she forced herself to stop.
Her mother had fallen trying to protect her. The way the sword cut into her body was burned into her eyes. The sound of her body hitting the ground was engraved in her ears. This feeling, this helpless horror, had been part of her rage with Annareal's actions. Those children now carried some of the scars Cassie lived with.
She saw herself staring at a soldier whose sword dripped with the blood of her parents. It was war. There was no mercy based on age when the enemy was already ruthless enough to slaughter a town indiscriminately. The soldier had stabbed her a little in the shoulder, just to make her cry. She had just stared at him. Even now, she didn't know if it was shock or defiance.
He had upped the ante by lightly stabbing her in the side. Just little stabs, barely half an inch deep. Enough to hurt. Enough to bleed. When she had still stared at him, he had slowly and carefully sliced along her neck. Not deep enough to kill. Not yet.
She pressed her hand to her throat as she felt the pain as sharply as if it had just occurred. She couldn't breathe! She fell to her knees as she struggled to drag in a breath. It was just an illusion trying to trick her into thinking she was there again. She threw her will into fighting back, into letting go of the memories. She had survived. They hadn't won. Somehow she had escaped. She had lived, she had thrived. She was better than this!
The screaming abruptly stopped and she could breathe again. The pain became a dull throbbing. She gulped in air gratefully as her ears continued to ring and spots swam before her eyes. At a sound, her shoulders tensed for what was next, but when she looked up, she saw Tyrian. Shocked, there was nothing she could say. He was walking through the Imperial Palace with Liang and Marian pacing at his side. He walked into a room, and she saw . . . herself.
Everything seemed to align. Calm descended. That tragedy of her youth had led her to train harder and longer to never be weak again. That training had led her to reaching such a high rank before she was in her twenties. That rank had led her to be the delegate chosen to help Ophelia Goldwind . . . and led to her destined meeting with her Kaiten Star.
She slowly got to her feet and lifted her chin. The illusions splintered around her, leaving her alone in the middle of the floor. There was nothing more to be seen. "Everything happens for a reason," she said quietly. "We all obey the whims of Destiny."
Kotan started breathing again. He hadn't been breathing the entire time, and certainly his heart had stopped when she had fallen. Getting out of the trial once it started only happened one of two ways. You passed, or you were destroyed by your own memories. It could happen to even strong people. He had watched it happen to his elder brother when he had tried to take leadership from their mother. "I would think," he said softly, his voice gruff, "that the Kentei Star does not lack much less of an iron will than her Kaiten Star."
"Well, someone has to keep him line." She took a deep breath and turned around. "I'd be lying to say that I won't have nightmares. But . . . I'm okay. And I'm finally ready to ask you just what happened to me. How I was saved. I never could before."
"The Imperial Army had already been rushing to the scene," he said willingly. He had always hoped there would come a day when she would be strong enough to know it all. "The High General, though he was still just a Lower General then, reached the scene first. It was he who tended your wounds and carried you away."
In a way, it was not as shocking as it should have been. Threads tied all of them together in some way or another. "I wonder if he knows who I am," she mused mostly to herself. She would have to tell Tyrian. It might lift his spirits to think his father had saved her life. And thinking of Tyrian brought back the sharp reality of why she was there. "I claim by family right and right of trial the leadership over the Monk Clans."
"Come with me, daughter." He led the way past the mat to a door in the wall. Instead of opening it, he pushed on the wall panel beside it. The panel rotated open to reveal a short hall and a tiny room at the end. "Inside there is what you seek."
She ducked into the hall and moved swiftly to the end. In the center of the small room was a slim pedestal. On the top of that was a blue cushion. Settled into the center of the cushion was a glass sphere. It glowed with a soft sapphire color, and within the center of the relic hovered a symbol reminiscent of a broken musical note. There was no mistaking it for a Music Relic. Though the symbol was like a note, it was also entirely different. The symbol of silence. The mark of the Pure Shrieking Relic.
She held out her left hand without hesitation. Though most single relics were worn on the right hand, she felt the sharpest pull of her magical capacity flowing through her left hand. The few times she had worn a relic, she had always worn it on her left hand. As Tyrian wore his on his right, she couldn't help but wonder if her relic hand choice was also destiny.
The Shrieking Relic floated up into the air and then hovered over her left hand. She immediately became aware of the emptiness inside her soul. It was a shocking feeling to realize just how deep her own capacity went. She had been primed for that moment without ever knowing it.
With a flash of light, the relic fused to her hand. The pain was sharp and ambushing, welling up from her very soul as the relic forced itself inside and rooted deep. Her head went light and she fell to her knees as she sought for her stability. She felt positively stuffed, as if her soul had become tangible and could be physically experienced. Her magical capacity was not only great, but it was also now thoroughly utilized.
The pain faded to a dull throbbing and the dizziness ebbed. The swiftness of the recovery only confirmed her feelings that it had been the nature of the Devourer itself that had been detrimental to Tyrian. She felt exhausted, certainly, but not nearly as drained and weakened as he had been.
When she returned to Kotan's side, he hugged her tightly. "I'm very proud of you," he said roughly.
The display of affection was only a little surprising. She had always known he loved her, though he'd had trouble expressing it. "Thank you," she said softly. She hugged him back and then let go. "Don't think you can retire yet. You need to handle day-to-day things for me."
"I can do so." He released her. "Go now to his side," he urged. He watched her hurry out of the room and let out a long sigh before following at a slower pace. Retirement and a granddaughter. He was getting old after all.
It seemed as if everyone in the city had gathered outside the pagoda. Cassie brushed past all of them as she ran back toward the doctor's office. No one tried to stop her, though many swarmed around Kotan with eager questions and congratulations. Yet again, Master Cassie had proven why she was their greatest monk.
When Cassie burst into the doctor's office, the others glanced at her in surprise, even Ernest and Kelan. They had all thought it would take much more time for her to confront her trial; it had only been an hour. Lane glanced at her hand and saw the Shrieking Relic, and he felt some of the knots in his stomach unclench. The feeling of being terrified of losing Tyrian was not entirely pleasant. He had never experienced so much emotion for anyone other than Lady Tanelia, and she had always been like a mother to him.
"What do I do?" Cassie asked Lane. "And don't take an attitude with me. Just tell me what to do."
He forced himself to bite his tongue. Honestly, these fledgling sorcerers could be very vexing! "Take Tyrian's hand and place the mark of your relic directly against the mark of his relic. Try to call a spell to start the power flowing. You shouldn't have the first level unlocked yet, so you'll just get raw magic."
She sat beside Tyrian on the bed and gently lifted his relic hand. She pressed the back of their hands together and felt a sudden jolt all the way to her soul. The sensation was very, very intimate. She couldn't guess at whether it happened because of what was already between her and Tyrian, or if it was normal. She also didn't have the nerve to ask.
She reached for her power, not yet even knowing what to call it. Her relic glowed softly and the symbol of Shrieking appeared over her head. Though she did not initially intend to cast an actual spell, she felt it well up inside. "Silence," she said softly.
The entire room went dead silent as all magic nullified from everyone except for her and Tyrian. Lane opened his mouth and then closed it, at a true loss for words. If she was going to evolve at Tyrian's rate, then things could be deadly for them both. Tyrian needed Cassie to be his anchor. Lane swiftly ducked outside. This was over his head, but Tanelia would have the answers.
Power welled from inside Cassie and moved freely without being impeded by other forces in the air. It flowed directly into the Devourer and then moved beyond, purifying the lingering effects of the Soul Fog and returning strength to Tyrian's body. With the Shrieking Relic providing the strength to heal, Tyrian's will was enough to fight the Devourer. Balance was once more achieved and color returned to his face, though he did not wake.
The silence ended and sound returned. Softly, Ewan said, "So that's what you meant, Night. A natural silence versus an unnatural one. This wasn't that unnerving. It was a bit soothing."
"Particularly for you because you do not wear a relic. Natural silence is quite peaceful, though it is an effective weapon against an enemy." Without missing a beat, Night added, "You might want to catch her."
Ewan could be quick for his size. He moved forward just in time to catch Cassie as she fell over the side of the bed. "I should have realized that would happen," he said with a sigh. "So much for Lane thinking he knows everything." He stood and gently handed Cassie to Dylan. "You take her. I'll get Tyrian." He looked at Kelan. "Do they need to remain here?"
"No. Only rest can help them at this point. Ernest, show them to where Cassie's home is located." When the monk sulked, Kelan narrowed his eyes. "Do as I say, Second Class."
Ernest jumped. "Yes, Master Kelan!" He beat a hasty retreat out the door.
"Master Kelan?" Leonard lifted his brows.
Kelan smiled. "I'm a Fifth Class, the lowest you can be to become a Master. But I prefer to heal wounds rather than inflict them. That doesn't mean I can't. I just prefer otherwise."
Cassie's home sat not far from the pagoda. The door was unlocked, which made Ewan frown at Ernest. As he held the door, the monk said, "We never lock doors here. Outsiders don't come here, and stealing from each other would just be silly. We lock them if we're home and don't want visitors, though."
Ewan and Dylan put Tyrian and Cassie in her room and then followed Ernest toward the pub. Monks didn't get drunk, but that didn't mean they didn't like to drink. After the emotional upheaval, both Ewan and Dylan were glad for it. They needed booze.
Tyrian awoke feeling stronger than he had in quite a long while. The room was dark and quiet though some light spilled in through the window curtains. Cassie slept beside him, which was normal enough, but the bed they slept on was not as big as the one in their tower. The general feel of the room seemed soothing but not in the same way.
Shadows fell in an unusual pattern across the floor. He got to his feet and walked silently over to the window to look out. The darkened village was unfamiliar in shape and size, and snow softly fell. Snow only fell in the higher mountains, so he could take a fairly decent guess as to their current location.
A lamp lit behind him. "Tyrian?"
He turned immediately and went back over to the bed. "I'm right here." He sat down as Cassie sat up, and he cupped her cheek in his hand. "What did you do?" he asked softly. "I was so busy fighting the Devourer that it shocked me when I saw your power. I can still feel it to some extent."
She held up her left hand where the stark image of the Shrieking Relic was clearly visible. "I am now the leader of the Monk Clans," she said softly. "That is what this relic represents. Until I met you, I never thought I'd ever be strong enough to face the trial of leadership. This was why I wanted to come here. When you fell . . . Lane said that only a Pure Relic with a positive charge could save you. That's what this has."
There was a steadiness inside her, a sense of calm, that had become only more powerful now. It was a seductive lure to Tyrian, offering a promise of peace and quiet and sanctuary. Eternity. It was theirs to share. She would always be by his side. "I love you," he vowed intensely. "I would never have made it this far without you. And if millennia with you is my reward for this burden, then I'll do it again and again."
"Then understand why I don't regret what I faced to reach this point. I am the lucky one, Tyrian." She pressed her relic hand against his and sparks leapt and flew between their palms. In the way the positive and negative charges of the relics could fuse, so too were their owners meant to be one. "Are you truly better?" she asked softly, searching his face intently.
In answer, he drew her relic hand to his lips and teasingly skimmed a kiss across the mark. Her breath caught as the shock of pleasure streaked through her entire body. Even expecting it didn't prepare her for how strong it felt. "Should I apologize for teasing you that time?" she asked huskily.
His lips slowly curved. "How about I simply return the favor?" He tumbled her over onto the bed, his heated breath sensitizing her skin until she shivered from the inside out with hunger. As he trailed soft kisses down her arm, her hand curled around his neck. Her touch was hot and powerful, the magic inside tingling against his skin. "Do you think it's just us, or any relic?" he asked softly.
The little rasp to his voice made her breath catch. She loved when he sounded like that, when he had no will to resist her and it reflected in his voice. "We could ask Laia," she said teasingly. "She's the only one who could answer without embarrassing herself or us equally."
His laugh teased her ears and clenched her heart. "True, I can't see us asking Lane. He'd start getting arrogant and know-it-all." He worked on removing her gear as he spoke; his nimble fingers were now intimately familiar with every fastening and how to remove it in the fastest way possible. "Think he'll get his someday?"
"Oh, I think so. And we'll even get to see it." She tugged at his shirt and pulled it up over his head when he lifted his arms. Even with her body aching for his, there was no desire to rush. Already she could feel that time had stopped for them. There was a war waiting with the dawn, and there was no knowing what every day would bring. More Destined Stars, more battles, and even a confrontation with Donald Southerwind loomed ahead.
It didn't seem that frightening anymore for either of them. Tyrian knew that this was what Lane had meant when he had said there was something only Cassie could do to lift his burdens. The enemy couldn't defeat him. The Devourer couldn't consume him. Not so long as they were together.
It wasn't until they lay tangled together that he finally realized something he had subconsciously sensed all along. There had always been something deeper between them, some mysterious element that encompassed love and desire and yet was more than both together. This time, finally, he thought he knew what it was. It was eternity.
It had been there all along.
©Stacy J. Garrett. Do not reprint or redistribute without permission.
Chapter 30->
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