Chapter 7

The sky beyond the thick glass panes in the roof had darkened to night as the hours passed. The remaining members of the group sat at the table of pristine white marble, watching over Skyfire with deeply worried expressions. Even the hulking Emaris ignored the food that had been brought for them.

Emil jumped up when tension rippled across the Desanti's face. "Emaris! Better get that glass out o' his hand before he does shatter another'n. He already bled enough as is." The larger gypsy nodded, leaning over to pry the glass out of Skyfire's hand. When the tension drained away, Skyfire sagged limply.

"Oh, Skyfire." Lyra hugged him tightly, hiding her face against his neck.

Smiling weakly, Skyfire raised his bandaged hand to stroke her hair. "I am fine," he murmured reassuringly. That only served to make Lyra's embrace tighten even more. He accepted the refilled glass from Mureln and drained it without argument before sighing, his head dropping back against the chair with a dull thunk, his breaths wheezing rasps.

"That round did not seem to last as long," Mureln offered hopefully.

"It did not," Skyfire confirmed. "Nor as painful." He sighed, closing his eyes as he rested his cheek atop Lyra's head. "I do not think I have ever been so exhausted having done so little." The others traded amazed looks that the Desanti did not consider sacrificing his life energy as an effort. A flicker of tension crossed his features and he opened his eyes. "Kailee says Storm is past the worst of the affliction. The chlayxin has ebbed past where it could be fatal to her."

"Knowing Taylin, she will continue until she is satisfied Storm is well out of danger." Mureln pushed himself to his feet. "You should get some sleep, man. Or at least, try to. You look like you're ready to fall over." The Vodani bard traded worried looks with Emil and Emaris as the gypsies got to their feet. Emaris went to lend a shoulder to Skyfire.

Emil looked at Lyra and said, "Go 'head an' take some food so he can eats when he be feelin' more up to it. I'll carry th' drink." The slight Forentan girl nodded, brushing a tendril of pale blonde hair out of her eyes as she did as the wiry gypsy suggested.

Having reemerged from his seclusion to sit with the others, Terrence sat at the table alone as the others helped Skyfire to his and Lyra's room, lost in thought as his fingers idly played with his wineglass. He closed his eyes as he felt Petal shift in his pocket to nestle closer to him and the Knowing One's gentle touch consoling him.

"Master Terrence," Almek said with quite humility.

Terrence's expression tightened when Almek said his name. He raised hard blue eyes to regard him, his voice icy. "Yes, Dusvet?"

Almek tilted his head, concern marking his features. "Relax. You should be pleased that Storm and Ash have pulled through."

Terrence's frown deepened. "How can you think I am not pleased? Do you think because I am Forentan, I am so heartless I would stop caring about them simply because the Knowing One declared me a master and Illaini Magus?"

Almek raised a hand to silence Jaison before he rebuked Terrence for disrespecting him. "Of course not, Terrence." The white-haired man sighed. "It seems I am the source of your discontent."

Hesitating only a moment, Terrence agreed flatly. "You and everyone in this Sharindel are, Dusvet Guardian. We may be masters, but we are looked down on and dismissed out of hand by mere students and servants. I tried warning you about the backlash, but you got wrapped up in social pleasantries and completely disregarded me." He held up his right hand, the sleeve falling to his elbow to expose the forest green and gold eternal braid that shimmered in the light. "The Knowing One chose me to serve Her. I cannot serve Her if no one is listening to me! Just because none of the people here give a damn about any of us--"

"I never said I didn’t give a damn," Jaison snapped back, his olive complexion darkening with anger.

Terrence leaned forward and responded in similar tones, "Your words mean little. Your actions speak louder than any words. You do not want us here. We are outsiders. Foreigners." Jaison sat back, blinking in surprise at the nearly tangible hostility. Terrence got to his feet. "I expect such attitudes in Forenta and Sevmana both. It is a grievous flaw of character of those born of the Forenten line." His bitter disappointment carried in his voice. "But to see it in a Vodani? I know what to expect from Fortress now. Thank you for that lesson, Unsvet."

Without waiting to be dismissed, Terrence stalked down the hall to his room, passing Mureln and the gypsies as they were returning. The three men only offered the Guardians curious looks before sitting down in silence to wait for Taylin to finish her work.