part0025

Thalassa looked down at the new bruises on her chest and thighs, fastening her leather vest. The ache of those fresh wounds was infinitesimal compared to the ache in her heart and mind. She remembered every aspect of her indiscretion, but it wasn’t like a memory, it appeared more a vision, as if she were watching someone else and not herself. Thalassa loathed what she’d allowed, and that loathing amplified when she realized that she wanted more. She didn’t understand Wosen’s sudden allure or her insatiable need of him.

Jahno loved her, as she did him. He was so tender in his lovemaking, and she loved that about him, too. With Wosen, there was something else, something lingering deep inside of her that she brought forth with only him. That yearning remained, and she wondered if she’d ever be free of it. Now that her feral side had been brought forth with such intensity, how could she ever be completely satisfied without it?

Shaking her head, she fastened the last clasp on her vest. Regardless of her desires, she could no longer betray her husband. What she felt for Wosen was primal: a lustful hunger that she had to suppress.

Wosen came up behind, pulling her tight against him, and kissed down her neck. His arousal was obvious as he continued rubbing against her back. She didn’t remember how many times they’d made love that day, or any day for that matter. It was continuous, and neither of them grew tired of pleasing each other.

Thalassa closed her eyes, feeling his rough hands stimulating her. She reached around then, clawing at his arse, and pulling him in closer. Their lovemaking had been so intense, so raw, and her body craved their closeness more than she was willing to admit.

She bit at her lip, fighting against the urges igniting within her. She prayed for strength, inching away from her young lover.

“No one is coming, not this day.” He spun her around, forcing her arms behind her. The predacious look in his eyes caused her excitement to rise. She wrenched an arm free, grasping a handful of his hair, and pulled him down to her. They enjoyed the taste of each other as he lowered to the floor, drawing her down on top of him. Thalassa wasted no time joining her eager body to his.

He grinned, clutching her waist and raising her up, eagerly following her commands. Each time her body slammed atop his, she groaned from not only the pain, but also the pleasure.

After feeling the heat of her satisfaction, Wosen rose up, never separating himself from her. As he stood, she repositioned her legs over his shoulders, locking her ankles behind his neck.

He moaned, controlling her every movement. When she felt his knees tremble, and his efforts increase, she roughly kissed his lips, biting at his tongue.

Wosen called out, staggering against the wall. “That was the best yet,” he said, raising Thalassa higher and removing himself from her.

She smiled, kissing him again as he lowered her to the floor. He could’ve taken her again, and his body spoke the same.

Thalassa tossed him a towel, admiring his nakedness. Once he’d pulled on his trousers, she cleaned herself and began to dress.

Wosen face scrunched, as he winced, inserting his fingers into his mouth, noting the familiar metallic taste. When he pulled them out again, he raised them up, smiling at Thalassa.

“Mayhaps you shouldn’t please me so well, young Wosen. I lose myself when we’re a part of each other,” she purred, moving away.

Thalassa winked, playfully, until considering what he’d said. Her brow creased as she turned, staring into his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “It was merely a jest. I relish when you take control and handle me as you please.”

“Yes. Is it Jahno? I know that he’s due to return this evening. Don’t worry, Thalassa, I’ll keep my distance. He’s your husband and I—”

She forced a smile. “I doubt that you could ever do so. I just need to prepare for Jahno’s arrival. I should take a bath and get something to tend these new bruises.”

“Indeed. I still have welts on my back and wrists. It’s good that everyone knows you sometimes fight with a whip.” He teased. “Elsewise how could I explain these wounds?”

“Wosen, we can’t do this anymore. I want it as much as you do, but we must stop. Never have I felt so free and uninhibited, and I admit, you satisfy me like none other. Desires I didn’t know I had, you’ve managed to sate.

“But once Jahno returns, all of this is over. He’s my husband, and I can’t face him knowing that I’ve been with you. It’s a betrayal that I’d never have thought myself capable of committing.”

“Isn’t that what you’ll do when he comes? Hells, I can’t even count how many times we’ve enjoyed each other this day alone?”

“I know, and I hate the thought of it. But this will be the only time that I’ll have to do it.” She sighed, caressing his face. “I’d never tire of the way my body feels when we’re together, but we both knew this would have to end. I’ll miss being with you, Wosen. You’ve awakened something inside of me, something that must be fed.”

“Then how can you deny that hunger?” he said, sliding her hand down to his groin. “My body does this for you alone. It’s always ready to take you whenever you’d have it, and it doesn’t calm until we’re parted. If your desire is as overwhelming as mine, how can you not come and use me as you will?”

She enjoyed the feel of him, not releasing her hold. He was right, and she both loved and hated that about her young lover. He knew the power he held over her—the thirst that only he seemed to quench—the power of which she had to regain control.

“I won’t deny that,” she admitted, stepping away from him. “But you can’t deny what I’ve said, either. We’re both married to people we love, Wosen. We’ve been selfish beyond reason, and Jahno and Hibret deserve much more than we’ve shown them.

“Everyone in Nazil talks about honor above all. We need to regain that honor, and respect our spouses and ourselves.” She shook her head. “We’ve made love for nearly a full moon. We must stop. It might already be too late.”

He tied his laces, considering what she’d said. He didn’t want to think of Jahno or Hibret when he was with her. This time, they enjoyed separate from that part of their lives. Here, in the practice chamber, they could unleash everything that was within them. Neither judged the other, yet let them express their passion uninhibited. The time he spent with Thalassa only enhanced the lovemaking he offered his wife.

“I didn’t mean to push,” he said. “I’d never force anything that you didn’t want. I love you, and you’ll forever be a part of me.”

“You don’t understand, Wosen. I—I love you, too, and mayhaps it’s always been this way. But admitting that doesn’t change the love I feel for Jahno.” She turned, collecting her weapons. “How could I give into this. How? And now…” Her head lowered.

“It isn’t what you’ve done. It’s what I’ve done. The fault is mine.”

“What fault? You resisted in the beginning, but I wouldn’t relent. If there’s any fault at all, it belongs to me.”

“No, Wosen, in this, I must admit my weakness and my negligence. You didn’t force me to do anything I didn’t want, and I gave no thought to…to.” She paused again, trying to contain her emotion.

“I’m still nursing Suravi and…and my mother believed that it would be some time before Jahno and I could conceive again. That’s the way it’s been for most of the women she’s tended.”

“I don’t know. My time has come and gone with no show. It should be nearly at an end with the full moon, but it never began.”

“How could this be?” He paced the room, running his hands through his hair. “Hibret and I have been trying for seasons and she hasn’t become pregnant. I—I thought it might be due to my mistreatment, but with the Guardians’ healing…” He looked at her both bemused and unsettled. “It can’t be. I couldn’t have gotten you pregnant.”

“I pray your words are true. If my time is merely delayed, I’ll give thanks to the Guardians and never betray my husband again.”

“Don’t speak of it as if it’s a possibility. Even if I were pregnant, it wouldn’t change anything. Whatever child I birth will be Jahno’s. I’d never hurt him or Hibret speaking otherwise. Nothing would be gained by doing so.”

“It would have a father: Jahno. Whatever child I have will be his, Wosen…his. There isn’t any other way. Don’t you understand that? Return to your wife. I need to get ready for Jahno.”

“There is no us , not anymore. There’s only you and Hibret: your wife who loves you more than anyone else in all the lands.”

After ensuring the corridor was empty, she closed the door, falling back against the wall. Thoughts swirled through her mind, nearly causing her to swoon.

“Forgive me, Jahno,” she said, hastening to her suite. When she passed her brother’s room, she stopped. Thalassa tapped on his door, thinking of what to say, and more importantly, what not to.

Thalassa forgot everything that she wanted to say, walking over to her nephews. She hadn’t seen them in weeks, and was shocked at their appearance.

“There…there now, enough of this,” Hushar said. “We’ll find what’s been lost. Go now and play. I’ll be along in just a bit.”

“Just as the AsZar said it would be. Their intelligence and abilities seem to continue as they would naturally. It’s amazing to witness such miracles.”

“Yes. It’s easier on Zeta than Brahanu. Not in the beginning, but Zeta accepts Raithym as he is now, and spends as much time with him as possible.”

“Are you certain that you’re well?” Hushar asked, touching her forehead. “You seem a bit warm to me and your skin—” she examined her more closely. “Thalassa, is there something you need to tell me?”

“No,” she offered, quickly. “I—I’ve just been training too much, I fear. Wosen is more skilled than I believed. I didn’t think he could ever land a hit.” She rubbed a bruise on her arm. “I was wrong.”

Hushar winced. “I’ll give you a poultice for that. You need to be more careful, Thalassa. Symeon has been pushing Wosen hard and he’s much improved.” She smiled. “You’ll have to remember that you’re no longer in the mountains. You’re the wife of the Chancellor of Treasury, and mother to my only grandchild.”

Thalassa feigned a smile, hugging her again. The sting of that reminder nearly caused her emotion to come forth. “That, I’ll never forget, Mother. When Jahno returns, I won’t train so often. Symeon needs my help with the guards, but I think my sparring sessions with Wosen are at an end.” She stood, adjusting her baldric. “I need to go and change now. Jahno doesn’t like to see me in my leathers.”

“And that’s exactly what he’ll have.” She kissed Hushar’s cheek, and then returned to her chambers. After asking for the tub to be filled, Thalassa slipped from her clothes, staring into the mirror.

“Yes’m.” Ceron smiled. “I left some sweets on the table, too. Raithym was wantin’ some cookies so I baked some for him.”

Thalassa added some lavender to the water and then slid beneath its warmth. Inhaling the sweet scent, she smiled, thinking about Jahno.

She couldn’t remove his image from her mind, or the way he loved her. His words kept repeating, causing the ache in her heart to increase.

“I’ve prayed for it, Thalassa. To know when you came to me. The Guardians know my heart and sent you to me as a comfort. Do I not bring the same to you?”

“Oh, I’ve missed you, Thalassa,” he said, bringing her in for a kiss, feeling her trembling against him. Jahno held her tighter, grazing the water’s surface with his fingertips.

“Your water has gone cold,” he said, grabbing a towel and drying her off. He carried her to their bed, tucking the cover around her.

How? she thought, unable to understand her betrayal.

“I must have fallen asleep,” she said, resting her head on his chest. “I’ve been training too much, but now that you’re back, I plan on enjoying more time with my husband and daughter.”

“I am. My cousin arrived not long ago with the news. He’s a guard in the village and involved in all aspects of the search.”

“Caretaker,” Kuhani began, interlacing his thick fingers. “Javyn has never brought a false report, and those reports arrive ahead of the birds from Yarah. Lord Swayne may delay sending word, but Javyn’s resources don’t.”

Hosdaq nodded. “I don’t doubt your words, Javyn. Of all those in Spero, your loyalties are never in question,” he said, extending a coin pouch to him.

“I do this for the good of Faélondul, Sir Neufmarche. Never have the lands been freer than they’ve been under the Benoists’ rule. Many agree with me, yet won’t admit that truth openly. They thrive now where they merely survived before. I don’t turn my back on such blessings, or ignore those who caused them to be.”

Hosdaq’s smile increased, proffering a respectful bow. “Then allow me to offer you my gratitude instead, and a place on our council. The Zaxson will know of your continued assistance and loyalty.”

“It would be prudent to do so. This new information could be most significant. With the warm season fully upon us, there might be others who come forward.”

“Yes. The fact that no one else has been harmed is also of interest. Molag and his followers have kept to the shadows of late. The move against Eithrig may have been a step too far.”

“I thought much the same, Kuhani. He’s well known and respected in the village. The fact that Molag violated such a prominent denizen is more than many will tolerate. Eithrig is of high birth, and Molag is far from it. That fact alone is pertinent to some.”

“That isn’t certain,” Kuhani said. “The Zaxson would rather the Jasiri not go to Yarah. He feels their presence might undermine our efforts to apprehend Molad.”

“Somewhat. We’re finally gaining momentum, and it would be counterproductive to incense the very people we need to help us, regardless of their predispositions. I do understand Lord Thaon’s request, but it cannot be fulfilled. At least, not the way he’s requested.”

“Uzon Osei has agreed to allow twenty Jasiri to assist. They won’t enter Yarah, but they’ll take up positions around it. There are none in all the lands better at concealing themselves than the K’ohshulians.”

“As of yet, there’s no word from the Caretaker, but that means little. Pentanimir has offered his opinion, yet left the decision to the Uzon. The Jasiri have already taken leave and Shintao and his brothers will join with them.”

“Yes. Eight of them left with the brothers Xaahn. Once they join with the Jasiri, Molag will stand little chance.”

“Not as yet. When I send word to Nazil, I’ll do the same for Yarah. The Jasiri’s presence won’t be seen, but it will certainly be felt.”

“He’s well, but the shoulder will ache for some time. It’s Temian’s healing that will be long in coming. He never wanted anyone to place their lives in danger due to him. Now, he understands more the burdens of his brother.”

“Indeed. When the word reached Spero, I didn’t know what to think. I’m certain Pentanimir didn’t fathom such an outcome.”

“No, but due to those circumstances he’s had to face some essential realities. I believe that’s why he’s granting greater freedoms to the Jasiri in capturing Molag. He must be apprehended soon.”

“It will be so,” Hosdaq agreed. “Now, after your messages are sent, shall we find a sparring chamber? It’s been long, and I have a need to feel the steel in my hands.”

Pentanimir thrashed in his bed, not fully awake, but not wholly asleep, either. It wasn’t merely the absence of his wife. It was the torment of his mind: the images—the emotion—the pain. He felt the dolor encompassing him, just as effectually as the Nazilians he’d seen suffering in the darkness.

“No,” he cried out, batting at the illusory pale appendages. They encircled him, relentlessly grasping and clawing.

Pentanimir’s sweat-soaked face scrunched with the painful memory. With being there, suspended over the multitude of Nazilians, losing himself in their suffering and antipathy.

He could see the AsZar’s image, fading in and out of perception as her words reverberated through his mind. This was his burden for the knowledge he sought. Forever would he bear the weight of it.

Pentanimir emerged in desolation, seeing endless faces of those who inhabited the unsettling space. All of them, all looked like him, as those of Nazil.

Their eyes were nearly clear, virtually glowing, adjusting to the endless night. Their flesh had paled, as had their hair, which Pentanimir now understood, through the Guardians, was caused by the same lack of light, the lack of sun. Only darkness remained.

He watched as they struggled walking…no…lumbering through the muck and mire that surrounded them. The soft and unforgiving ground would surely consume them if their movement ceased too long.

Pentanimir called out again, fighting to awaken from the dream…the nightmare…the truth of his people’s heritage.

He wasn’t there, not feeling what the limitless men and women felt, and yet, he was. He experienced the emptiness, and the suffering, hearing the pleas and prayers being offered to gods of their own creation.

A tear rolled down his cheek, but he could do nothing to remove it. He was as an effigy, an immobilized version of himself, a mere observer hovering far above those in the darkness, the unending pits where the damned dwelled. Pentanimir wasn’t certain of his last thought, but it seemed only logical to him now. This was the space beyond.

Now, he understood, or at least he thought that he did…allowing the Guardians’ merge to provide that which he didn’t comprehend. It was a glimpse into a world beyond all others.

He drifted, looking over the sea of Nazilians, reaching out to the figure that they now noticed above them. Had he his sword, Pentanimir would have batted the pale appendages away, but there was nothing, literally nothing, only darkness.

Panic took hold as he felt himself descending into the space where only the damned could reside. He peered left, and then right, searching for any possible escape, anything that would end the interminable ache that he felt, and the torment that accompanied it, descending ever closer to the hands of those thirsting to trawl him down into the ordure that they couldn’t escape.

Vaulting up in the bed, Pentanimir swatted at his arms and legs, still feeling the lingering vestiges of the Doh’mahn Vwazi Tr’Eon.

The eyes, they lighten to see within the darkness. And—and the lack of sun, being forced to live beneath the reach of light paled their flesh. All of it, all of it was a lie. We weren’t chosen to lead because our features mirrored that of our gods. Our features are a dreadful concomitant, an unrelenting reminder of our sacrilege and disobedience!

Pentanimir’s eyes widened, peering around his room until Tardison’s movements wrenched him from his recollections.

“We are human,” Pentanimir said, still struggling with that truth. “There’s no difference in any one of us. All of the hatred, the fear, the deaths, they were a result of lies propagated to divide the populace, whilst empowering our true enemy.”

Tossing the covers aside, Pentanimir labored to his son’s beds. They knew nothing of what had been, what their forebears had caused, but they would be the ones called upon to correct it.

When Ayrmeis shifted in his bed, Pentanimir stepped closer, marveling at the both of them. They should’ve been babes, and Pentanimir lamented their needed acceleration and the loss that he felt.

“I promise to keep you safe,” he said with tears lining his eyes. “If it takes my life, I promise to protect yours.”

His words were true, but Pentanimir understood the reality they were all facing. His sons would keep the whole of Faélondul safe. Pentanimir would guide them until they were prepared, but a process that should’ve spanned years would now be mere seasons.

Before his people, Pentanimir needed to exude placidity, both unflappable and resolute. But here, here in his chambers, such pretenses were cast aside. He wasn’t merely the Zaxson of Faélondul or a paladin of the Guardians. He was Pentanimir Benoist: brother, husband, uncle, and father…a father that grieved for the future of his family.

Shintao paused, looking out over the city. He watched the flutter of activity as the people moved about with their carts and supplies. They were not the only ones building homes and beginning a new life.

In much of Faélondul, humans and Nazilians were still separated. Not here, not in Spero. Here, it was different, and Shintao felt comforted by that. He hadn’t wanted to remain in Faélondul, but after speaking with Mother Iya, he knew it was imperative that he did.

As he turned, he noticed one of his brothers, Genta, reinforcing a wall on his home. For a moment, Shintao didn’t move. He merely watched his brother toiling long after the others had left.

Shintao knew why he did so. Of all his brothers, Genta missed their home, their true home the most. The more his mind was occupied, the easier the adjustment to this new life would be.

Genta turned, respectfully inclining his head. His expression betrayed his thoughts, but words weren’t necessary. Shintao had the ability to sense the thoughts of his brothers. It wasn’t a complete extrasensory connection, but more an empathic impression imprinted in Shintao’s mind and heart.

For centuries, they’d inhabited the lands, yet remained concealed from most of the Faélondulians. At times, they revealed who they were, but only at the AsZar’s behest. Besides those of Afferea, only the K’ohshulians and Naidisians were aware of their presence, and their nature.

That would soon change. It was time for them to emerge from the shadows, and heed the AsZar’s call. After centuries of concealment, they would openly become a part of Faélondul’s population, until the darkness was defeated. This darkness…or the darkness yet to manifest.

“I’m pleased to know so. The seasons will soon change, and we need to be ready. There are Jasiri near Yarah, and I’ll need to rejoin them and the brothers Xaahn again soon. The High Priest will ‘ave need of me.”

“What ‘ove Zol?” Genta asked, searching their surroundings. The joined pair usually remained together, and Genta hadn’t ever seen Shintao without Zol at his side.

“Zol will return soon,” Shintao said, resting his hand over the gem on his chest. When the Guardian mark pulsed, he closed his eyes, establishing the connection. “Zol is near the effigy with the othahs. They have sensed the coming of the Ohor.”

Shintao could sense Genta’s dolor, understanding his lamentations. Many of his brothers wanted to return to Syahndru, but with Mah’saahc’s emergence, they were needed in Faélondul. If the darkness wasn’t defeated, Mah’saahc’s essence would suffuse the light world, infecting the lands and their people.

“Yes,” Genta agreed. “But, Brahtah?” Genta said. When Shintao regarded him, he lowered his head, taking a step back.

“Don’t feel shame for what lies in your heart,” Shintao said. “It was my desire to return as well, but it cannot be so. Faélondul remains ‘ouwer home. We’ll visit Syahndru, and your mate will come, Genta. For now, the Guardians ‘ave need ‘ove us, all ‘ove us. This has always been the way.”

“What has your mind?” Danimore asked, taking a seat beside her. Zeta had stayed much to herself of late, and he worried at the reason. Danimore certainly understood her trepidation regarding Raithym. He felt the same, but needed to appear otherwise to help ease her mind and heart.

Zeta glanced over at Raithym, leaning into Danimore’s arms. Her eyes closed, enjoying the feel of them tightening around her. How she needed his closeness and love when everything else in her life felt in turmoil.

“I’m afraid for him, Dani.” Her voice quivered. “I’m afraid for all of them. I don’t ever want Raithym away from me. What’s going to become of our son?”

Danimore sighed. He’d spoken with Pentanimir regarding the same not long ago. None of them truly knew that answer, and that uncertainty was more painful than the physical manifestations of the wraith.

It wasn’t long past when Danimore had feared he’d lose Zeta. After Nikolina’s violation and Ihnat’s birth, he was certain their love would not endure. It took time, but Zeta returned to him. Now, this. He didn’t have an answer to her question: not for Zeta or for himself. Danimore had to have faith in the Guardians to protect their son.

“There’s much that lies ahead,” he said, drawing her in closer. “But know that they’ll be prepared for it. All of us will be prepared. Brahanu shares your fear, and the relationship with her children is suffering due to it. We can’t allow the same to befall Raithym. He’s our son, Zeta. No matter what’s to come, he’s our son.”

“It is, but this means little. Just like Ihnat, Raithym is our son: yours and mine. The Vereux’ evils don’t touch him. Draizeyn being his sire doesn’t affect who or what Raithym is or will be.”

Danimore nestled her into his arms, feeling overcome by her grief, and the guilt he felt at causing it. “I am his father. This is the only truth that Raithym will ever know. I’ve been foolish regarding many things, Zeta, but never with this,” he said, kissing her. “Taking you into my home, protecting you, falling in love with you, and claiming Raithym as my own, some good I have done. It outweighs the other, all of it,” he said, wiping away her tears. “Forgive what I’ve caused…what I’ve allowed. I wanted you to be free and bring joy to your life. Have I failed?”

She stared at him, for a moment unable to respond. Zeta buried her head in his chest, overcome by her own recent betrayals. No, he hadn’t failed. She had failed him.

Zeta thought about Noraa, and her ruminations regarding her old love, Radich. How she could ever fathom a life without Danimore was both disconcerting and disappointing. Seeing Radich had manifested feelings she thought long forgotten, but that love, those lingering sentiments were infinitesimal in comparison with those she felt toward her husband.

Danimore had spoken true, reminding her of integral elements of her past that she attempted to purge from her memory. Albeit, she couldn’t completely erase the past. Zeta didn’t wish to dwell on what had been, but she needed to at least acknowledge what could’ve happened to Raithym and to her without Danimore’s protection. It was because of him that she was given this chance at happiness, and his love, and the love of their children, filled her completely.

“No, Dani, you couldn’t have known. The fault doesn’t lie with you. What was said years past didn’t justify what happened to you...to us. I am afraid for our sons, but I love them, and I love you.”