Dusk Falling (Book 1) (47 page)

SkyRift felt certain his companions did not feel the same as he about his role in bringing them to the Sigil. In fact, they were carrying on much better than he had expected. “Such remarkable beings they are.”, he thought to himself, “I wonder if I, should our places have been reversed, have been so forgiving.” The Kiyomouri watched the gray blur that was Agemeer race here and there, sniffing the air or chasing a butterfly. The saurian looked content with her thoughts, her large flamberge firmly strapped to her broad back. The Godling was a small shadow pacing ahead of them with confident if short steps, his presence all but blinding to SkyRift’s mind’s eye. SkyRift knew the Divinari’s powerful auras were masking the young Gods own powers while on the Sigil leaving him free to be less-careful in keeping under wraps. Avarice’s own aura was keeping the Divinari from challenging their passage. Though it was painfully bright, to someone as insignificant as SkyRift it would not mean anything. The perfect shieldings would state only a mage walked the lands but to the near-immortal Divinari, they would know what it meant.

Genlo paced nearby, slightly behind. The Jrahda-trethen most likely the least forgiving of the group, he scowled whenever SkyRift met his piercing gaze. With his Elven hearing, SkyRift could hear of what he and the mage were taking a break from discussing and approved. Shortcomings aside, what Genlo had to say was sensible and astute. He had no idea why but it seemed the Jrahda-trethen was attempting to teach the girl some of the finer points of their craft.

Aya trailed not far behind with the most blissful of expressions. Every once in a while she would spin and laugh. His spirits felt lifted and he sighed. The Sigil truly was a fantastical beautiful place. He was honored to set foot to its soil. The wind in particular felt especially refreshing.

SkyRift then realized it was not the winds doing. Not exactly. Looking over his shoulder, he studied the young Bren mage. It was her doing. Whether she was aware of it or not. From Genlo’s closed expression, the Kiyomouri surmised that the Elfkin knew it as well but was letting her continue perhaps as part of her learning experience. His mental barriers were fairly low as he stood guard over the mage’s opened mind.

SkyRift stumbled slightly over an exposed root but caught himself from falling. That she would exhibit such trust to such a creature and that he would not take advantage… The Kiyomouri dared to hope they succeeded. Truly he did.

Chapter 33

Genlo showed as much if not more patience with Aya’s training as he had shown the entire time they knew him. He did not smile or congratulate any well-doing but the snide remarks that he kept to a minimum were worth any encouragement to the Bren. She listened attentively, glad for any time spent with him. The Jrahda-trethen even stuck around during their brief rest breaks.

By nightfall, Aya was showing progress in using the air to conduct her spells at a distance. She had no trouble starting the spells with her own energy but taking herself out of the picture as the origination for the spells result was proving as difficult as she thought it would. Knowing Genlo was critically analyzing her progress did not make it any easier to concentrate.

Her power of the element of water, more specifically ice, availed her little. Aya dared not even attempt fire. Earth was proving too complicated. That left the friendly zephyrs and when dealing with air, an air spell seemed the best choice to begin with. The Ebon Cutter was an air variant; could she get that spell to cooperate?

The Bren judged the open lands on which they walked the following morn to be ideal for trial but when she thought about the margin of error she dropped the idea altogether. Concentrating on the space a few feet away, she found she could do naught but sense the currents of energy. She called upon her own energies, closing her eyes and trusting her feet to guide her straight. She could feel her own energies well up from within, waiting for direction but the next step eluded her.

Calling upon an ice spell or even the will-some fire spell was a simple enough act but how she could call upon those spells to activate at a distance… she just could not do it. With an exasperated sigh, she released her energies to flow back within her.

For several paces, nothing but the wind through the distant trees and the occasional bird sounded.

“You can sense other lifeforms with your mind.” Genlo said, not looking back. “You use your mind to seek them out. It is the same principle. A little more complicated and a little more tiresome but the same.”

Aya gave thought to that. She did not have trouble sensing the presences around her. Though not as good as Genlo or SkyRift, she could ‘feel’ an area of a good twenty paces. And she could sense the energy currents of the air, they fluxed and changed in an instance. But what was the next step? What was she supposed to-

Genlo slowed until she had to shift her path or walk into him. He stopped. The Elfkin did not meet her gaze, instead he watched the trees in the distance. “I can show you.” He could feel not only her eyes resting on him with a look of surprise but also SkyRift’s, the Kiyomouri walking close enough to have overheard. When the girl tentatively agreed, he could not help his thoughts reverting to their original plan of unwinding the spell wrought on the necklace that could, at her behest, bind his powers from his own use. Though he did not feel the spells confines, the Jrahda-trethen knew they still existed. He could take the opportunity given, abandon the foolhardy plan of attacking the sect head-on, break a promise, betray trust… he could do it. But he was hesitating even in continuing that line of thought. Did he no longer want his freedom? Was he that used to being around them- Serrtin, Agemeer, Aya… even that treacherous dragon?

How his mother would laugh to hear that.

The Bren was watching him with bright eyes, intrigued at the prospect of… of what? Of his help? Genlo’s stomach felt odd and mouth suddenly inexplicably dry. He frowned, feeling like the view from the treetops might be a mite more comfortable. Not one to be pushed around, even by his own spurring feelings, he ground in his heels and prepared to be stubborn. “You will need to follow my lead. I’ll show you what to do and you do it.”

“O-okay.” Aya replied nervously.

The Jrahda-trethen sent a mental tendril out after first giving the area a thorough search. The others had stopped walking. He tapped lightly and felt the Bren reach out with a tendril of her own. Backing up, he drew her past her own barriers. The girl’s energy was light, ethereal and the path back to her was tantalizing for the jewel around her neck. Swallowing, Genlo forced the thought away and beckoned her to follow him past the first of his mental shields. Aya followed slowly, all too clearly could she picture what had happened to the Verca man who had wandered too deep in the Jrahda-trethen’s steely mind. Genlo chuckled silently to himself, knowing why she
hesitated, and the sense of amusement was easy for her to pick up on through the connection. Passing a barrier that felt like it wanted to snap shut on her did not confidence give her but the snide delight strengthened her resolve.

She did not want to wander too far from his presence. Not that she was capable; the barriers were admitting her no farther. Aya could feel Genlo around her and she realized that this was the closest she had ever been to him, physically and mentally. The swirling energies held his signature, they blazed past her like fire. She could almost sense his thought patterns, so close were they to her.

Around her a seething chaos was held in check by silver bands of pure discipline and will. The chaos that was his Youkai half, his erratic and destruction inclinations, all was contained behind surprisingly neat and concise bands that hinted at a control that did not waver, keeping the raw destructive force at bay like a hound to heel despite the proximity of the fox. Inside his mind, he was lord. The mental facility and capacity was breathtaking, Aya could not be anything other than impressed- how chaos and structure could abide within one mind…

By then she came to see the Jrahda-trethen’s presence was darkening at her side. “If you are
quite
done,” He growled.

“Oh, s-sorry! I-I didn’t… sorry, please continue.” Aya stammered, having been caught gawking.

With one last scowl, Genlo closed his eyes. Aya could feel his attention shift off her and the focus became several yards away. His presence was grounded in his body but his intent was leashed by a thin thread. Aya attempted to follow the thread but Genlo held her back, frightening her with the sudden appearance of a barrier that entrapped her momentarily. The mage caught her breath but relaxed when she saw that he only meant for her to watch. So watch she did.

The wind accepted his intent. Aya could feel a deep cold sensation building behind the barriers that lead back into Genlo’s mind. It was a negative energy, a heady energy that even by its proximity Aya could feel how it wanted escape. The energy wanted release, it wanted to destroy. It was the chaos he kept locked behind structure.

The thread of intent suddenly looped and spiraled straight into the ground. The energy that fought Genlo’s control screamed around Aya then blazed in a dark fire. “Watch.” The Jrahda-trethen told her, eyes still closed, brows pinched in concentration.

Having stretched her limited resources to their end, she had to rely on Genlo’s connection with the spell in order to feel the shift of energy. Her eyes saw the ground darken like a shadow had moved over it a barrel-span
across. Then, quick as a blink, the shadow exploded upward. Like an inverted storm of black rain, the spell razed up to the sky and was gone. Genlo opened his eyes and lowered his hand.

“What the hell was that?!” Serrtin hollered. “What are you doing?”

Genlo heard her voice but chose to ignore her. It was none of her concern what they were doing. Serrtin’s large clawed hand said otherwise as it slammed down on his shoulder with force enough to almost buckle his knee. The unexpected contact jarred his concentration, splintering his precise control over the effects of his mental barriers. Aya backpedaled, feeling Genlo’s presence close as he sought to collect himself before the shieldings reflexively went on assault. Without thinking of consequence, not knowing her own reasoning for her actions, Aya reached out to that presence like a safety net. The sudden latching sensation tripped his mental feet and he was swept off as Aya’s tendril snapped back to its origination, barely escaping the closing barriers.

In a moment of fresh air and light, Genlo found himself at the front door of Aya’s unprotected thoughts. He could feel those thoughts churn, all of them, darting about in fragments. She had a near call with a potentially deadly mishap but right then all her thoughts were focused on him. She worried for him, not just for that one moment in time- his name was imprinted on reoccurring concerns. He saw not just worry for the future- his future- but silly childish fears as well, was he getting enough sleep, was he eating enough, was he mad. Was he mad? That fragmented feeling was at the forefront along with trepidation, hope, curiosity and another feeling that was hidden beneath.

Genlo was losing his breath, his mind leaving his body to drop to its knees. Just a moment more and he thought perhaps he could see what it was that drove her… Bright and shining, she did not shut him out. He felt a selfless warmth there that was timidly hiding behind emotion, one he had not wanted or felt before. Upon feeling the raw emotion, he felt drawn to it, wanting to know more, wanting to feel that warmth for just a little longer. The thread that kept his conscious mind attached to his body was beginning to buckle under the strain, absently he knew his body was failing, breath not coming as it should but he did not care. Just a moment more and he would go back. The thread began to ache but the light that enraptured him only brightened the more.

Forcibly, Genlo found himself shoved back into his own body. His windpipe felt constricted and his chest heaved. A surprise even to himself was the sense of loss and disappointment, the sudden cold. Curling his fingers into the grass and soil, the Jrahda-trethen attempted to gain some semblance of control.

They were crowding him. Their voices were ringing in his ears, not making any sense. It was very annoying.

“How do you fare? Are you well?” Came a voice directly into his mind. It was the Wulf. The disarray of his thoughts settled as he focused on the one voice. He peered over at Agemeer through the fall of his white hair. “You collapsed as if you could not properly gain breath.”

Genlo was aware of Aya kneeling close in front of him, her hands on the ground as she leaned over. Their eyes met. Something passed in between them- a knowing, a realization- that reddened Aya’s cheeks and straightened her posture.

He knew.
He knew!
Unbidden she had given him access to her most guarded thoughts and he now knew how she felt about him. She had not wanted to shut him out even knowing he would find out if he lingered too lengthy a time but when he failed to return and his physical form began to falter Aya had to force him out. The mage couldn’t move, couldn’t look away. She waited for his reaction.

Genlo’s expression did not soften but his eyes began to take on a shadow of confusion. He had seen something he did not understand yet what mattered most to Aya was that he had not rejected her. Lack of understanding the girl could take but not his despising her.

The brown-cloaked Godling appeared over them, shale gray eyes having not yet gained a speck of emotion. He evaluated their condition with a quick glance. “You do not look injured. Let us continue on. We are not far.” In a swirl of cloth, he pivoted and stalked off.

“Aya, what happened?” Serrtin asked on one knee at the mage’s side.

Aya tore her sight off the Elfkin to respond. “N-nothing. It’s nothing. Genlo was trying to teach me something. I guess I messed it up.”

“No. It wasn’t you. It was my doing.” Genlo remarked in a toneless voice. He then got to his feet and his voice took on more life. “Or I should say, it was
your
doing.”