Forbidden Forest (The Legends of Regia) (21 page)

“So how did it actually happen? Becoming a mage?”

“Well, throughout all of the months that Ithiel had been training me, his greatest complaint was my temper. The Kata had given me direction and purpose, but I was still angry and bitter over the loss of my sight. He harped on and on how it would be my undoing, if I didn’t harness it.”

Forest chuckled. “I’ve been told similar things in the past as well.”

“Yes, but you were probably told to choke it down. Ithiel took a different approach; one that blindsided me. The day my transformation happened began the same way of every other training day. It’s really simple actually: focus, forms, then fighting. During my focus, Ithiel did something he never had before; he placed one of his hands on the top of my head. Such strong waves of energy came from his palm and it felt like my thoughts were torn from my brain and pulled into a deep abyss within me. When he removed his hand, it was like waking up from a long sleep. I had never felt so centered.

When I began my forms, again Ithiel did something unorthodox. Instead of doing forms alongside me, he stood opposite and mirrored me. I knew this because my senses were hungry and clawing at the world around me. It was the first time my mind’s eye gave me an accurate and detailed picture of what was in front of me, and it was stronger than actual sight. I would have been elated, ecstatic even, but again Ithiel was doing something different that distracted me from my newfound ‘sight.’ He was stinging me.”

“Stinging you? How was he stinging you?”

“With his aura. His aura began to fill the room around us. I began to feel frustrated and flustered. The stinging was not so painful; it was more confusing and irritating. But it wasn’t until I finished my forms that he began the real abuse. Usually there was a short pause in our routine once forms were done before we began fighting, but not that day. The second forms were done, he launched at me and struck me in a…ah, a very sensitive area.”

“What the hell?” Forest interjected.

Syrus laughed quietly. “That’s what I was thinking at the time, only in more colorful language. As you can imagine, anger does not begin to cover it. As soon as I could stand upright again, we began the most aggressive and dirty fight I had ever been in. But not only was he using moves and tactics that were usually reserved only for real life and death combat, he was hurling abuse at me with his words. Ithiel told me exactly what he thought of me, without reservation.”

“What did he say?” she asked.

“Ah, well. I’d rather not repeat most of it, but he did call me a coward and an angry baby.”

“Why was he trying to provoke you?”

“Because it was what I needed. He worked me into a rage that was so overwhelming, I have never felt the likes of it before or since. Redge, who was watching, said he could actually see the moment the pressure exploded inside me. Ithiel stopped his attack and stood still in front of me. I was going to kill him. Logic was gone, focus was gone, and all that was left was murder in my heart. Even now, I don’t know exactly what he did to me in that moment that would have been his death.

“I couldn’t breathe. It felt like I had been plunged deep underwater, you know, sort of, compressed. And my hands were clasped around a hot solid surface, a burning, pulsating sphere.

‘In your hands is your rage; objectified, weaponized. Use it.’ Ithiel said.

“At first, I had no idea what to do. That was all he said. Every other master said to conquer your anger or it will conquer you, and all other sorts of little catch phrases that really are no help. So, after a moment of consideration I decided to act on whatever instinct came to me.”

The energy emanating from Syrus as he recounted his memories dazzled Forest.

“I broke the sphere between my hands and the shards absorbed through my skin. I felt it running up through my arms and into my chest and that was where it stopped and collected. I was able to breathe again and there was Ithiel waiting to finish our fight. I had never been able to overtake him in a fight before, but now it was easy, pathetic even. I triumphed over him quickly. He asked for me to help him up from the ground and as I grasped his hands, that was when it happened.”

“What? What happened?” Forest asked, totally absorbed.

“Again, I don’t know what he did, but…I don’t have the words, Forest. I can’t describe it. What it felt like to transform, but there was this terrible roaring. It wasn’t until later that Redge told me I was the one roaring. Every scar I had achieved in fighting broke open, and I turned red with my own blood. So, Ithiel named me The Sanguine Mage.”

Forest was overwhelmed by his story. She was ashamed that she had ever treated him with disrespect. And in awe at the way he had treated her; in awe that
he
needed her. She felt a huge surge of pride; her mate was a powerful mage. And she almost told him right there that they were mates, almost. But she felt unworthy. Forest lay silent in the wake of his story, not trusting herself to speak.

“Are we going to make it in there?” he asked gesturing toward the trees of the Wood.

“Of course,” she said quickly.

“I’ve never been there. The wolves had taken back possession of it long before I was born. As a kid, I was always sore about it. My history tutor taught me all about it though.”

Forest snorted. “I bet I know the history better than anyone else in all of Regia.”

“That’s quite a boast. How could you make such a claim? My history tutor is seven centuries old. He has grandchildren older than you.”

“I can make that claim confidently, because I was taught the history of the Wood by someone who has lived there for eons.”

“What?”

“When I was a girl, I would often go into the Wood to escape my life. I could go on for hours about my childhood memories of the Wood. On one particular day, I was terribly upset, and I wandered deep into the interior, deeper than I had ever gone before. I found a tree there with an attractive sitting place in its roots. I nestled down there and cried and talked to myself about my troubles. Before long, I accidentally fell asleep with my head resting against the trunk.”

“What were you so upset about?” Syrus asked.

“I don’t remember.”

“I don’t believe you, but go on.”

“I began to hear a whisper in my sleep. It was such a beautifully gentle voice, like the wind through the trees. When I woke up, Shi was sitting beside me, holding my hand.”

“Shi?”

“It’s more of a sound than a pronounced name, but I call her Shi for short when I’m not addressing her directly. It’s more like,
ssshhh-hhiii
. Like a mother hushing her baby.”

“Who is she?” he asked.

“Shi is the ghost of a Dryad. She’s the keeper of the Wood. As soon as we set foot inside the boundary, she will know we are there. She may be a ghost, but you do not want to screw with her. I’m the first person she has shown herself to in thousands of years. Being able to call her my friend is the greatest honor of my life. I’m hoping she will be willing to direct us to Maxcarion. “

“That’s amazing, Forest! I had no idea there were Dryad ghosts. I can’t wait to meet her!”

“Ah…well…there might be a problem with that.”

“What?” Syrus asked.

“She, ah, doesn’t like vampires much.”

Syrus was quiet a beat, his face twisted a little. “Oh how sweet. The two of you are joined forever as sisters in your mutual hatred of vampires. Terrific. I can just imagine it now: You going into the Wood as a girl and ranting for hours with a tree about how vampires suck…metaphorically.”

“Don’t be a twit. I hated vampires long before I met her; it was just some common ground we share. Maybe if you’d stop being so petulant I might say some nice things about you to Shi if she shows herself to me, and then you could have the chance to meet her.”

Forest could tell that under his nasty expression was a strong childlike excitement to meet Shi. Forest could feel her face heating up as she thought about what Shi might think about Syrus. Shi would know everything there was to know about him as soon as he crossed into the Wood. She would know that he was Forest’s mate. How would Shi respond to that tidbit of information?

“What does Shi look like?” Syrus asked.

“A tree,” Forest said shortly.

“So, you woke up and the tree-ghost was holding your hand?”

“No you moron, I was resting against her, but she appeared to me in a corporal form. She doesn’t appear very solid though. She is so beautiful; I used to wish I could look like her. She doesn’t resemble any other race I’ve ever seen. A woman-tree. She’s very tall and skinny, twig-like arms and legs, and her hair is like the dropping branches of a weeping willow.”

“What is a weeping willow?” Syrus asked.

“Oh, sorry, it’s a tree on Earth.”

“I’m glad you don’t look like that.”

“Why?”

“Because, that might be beautiful, but I don’t want to make out with it.”

Forest hesitated for a moment unsure how to respond to his remark.

“Umm, anyway Shi became my friend. I spent lots of time with her in my adolescence. She told me all about the Wood’s history. I’m just hoping that she will talk to us. “

“Why does she hate vampires?” Syrus asked.

“If your history teacher was worth his salt, you wouldn’t have to ask that. It’s a long story and one filled with pain, so I’ll give you the short version. Your great great great great great grandfather—there are probably more greats in there but you get the picture. Anyway, your grandfather King Leramiun is the one who brought the Dryads to their demise. He was the one who saw the potential lure the Wood could be for his enemies and began to work tirelessly on creating the perfect maze of death. Many Dryads were simply cut down like common trees. Those that were spared were only spared for a different death. Leramiun brought the shadow sand into the Wood. The effect on the unwary traveler was exactly what Leramiun hoped for, but the Dryads ended up being collateral damage. The introduction of shadow sand into their ecosystem made them instant addicts. The addiction was deadly. Shi was the last to die.

“Her prejudice against vampires is perhaps slightly ignorant. She has judged a whole race from the actions of few.” Forest was quiet for a moment. “As have I,” she added quietly. “Some of you are halfway decent.”

“Praise indeed,” Syrus said dryly, giving her a little squeeze. “It’s going to be dangerous in there, isn’t it?”

“Maybe…probably…yes. Yes, I’m afraid it’s going to be very dangerous. Are you sure you want to go through with it?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he said. “I don’t want to live the rest of my life without ever looking in your eyes.”

“Oh, come on,” she said annoyed.

“Are you really going to keep up this ruse? I wonder how long you can deny this…this…”

“All right! I admit it. There’s something between us. It doesn’t mean anything. You’ll get over it once your home. I mean really, you’re the
prince
! You can’t make me your princess. It’s ridiculous.”

Syrus made a little grunt in the back of his throat. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Okay. I’m done talking. I’m going back to sleep for a little while. Are you all right?”

Syrus chuckled. “No, not at all.”

“Are you able to keep watch?” she huffed. “Or are you too sleepy?”

“Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when I feel tired.”

“You might want to move away from me now. I might start dreaming again and attack you without meaning to.”

His arm tightened around her. “I’ll risk it.”

It took Forest a while to fall back asleep. Reason told her to pull away and finish her sleep in her own space, but her heart argued that she should relax against Syrus and enjoy this stolen time because it would be an anomaly in her life. Hell, they might die tomorrow.
Pull away
!
Pull away before this memory just becomes another brick on your wall of pain
.

Forest rested her cheek on his arm and sighed. The stupid sucker made her feel weak. She didn’t need him. She just needed to get through the next day or two and get back to her crappy status quo. If Leith could see her in Syrus’ arms, he’d kill them both. Well, he’d kill her. Leith wasn’t even close to being strong enough or skilled enough to hurt Syrus. That thought alone caused her heart to win over her reason.

Once Forest was back asleep, Syrus relaxed and tried to work through his tangled thoughts. His chest ached against her back. She was so much smaller than he was; taught, formidable, and bitter but she was also soft and fragile; skittish like a small child who had been abused. She had admitted she felt there was something between them, and her actions had confirmed it. But he knew there was still a deeply rooted hatred she had for his kind. Syrus was fed up with not knowing why. How was he to change her bad opinion if he didn’t know what direction it came from?

Well, he wasn’t going to find out tonight. He sighed contentedly and lightly kissed her hair again.

Forest came awake slowly. The sunlight penetrated through her closed eyelids. How could the sun be up? She opened her eyes and gaped with shock. She was face to face with Syrus, lying in his arms, and he was fast asleep. She jerked out of his hold and smacked him hard on the shoulder.

“What? What is it?”

“Syrus! How could you fall asleep on your watch?” she demanded. “We could have been slaughtered! I can hardly believe we weren’t.”

“Oh,” he said thickly, sitting up and rubbing his face. “Sorry. Holding you made me feel so peaceful.”

Forest’s mouth hung open. “I…you…peaceful…sleeping…” She spluttered. “How can you just sit there rubbing your eyes like nothing happened?”

“Something happened?” he gasped in mock horror.

Forest was so mad she couldn’t speak or even look at Syrus while they packed up their stuff. He acted oblivious to her rage. At the very least, he could have the decency to act sheepish and shamefaced for falling asleep on his watch, but he didn’t. He ate his breakfast with the casual nonchalance of a man on vacation. Forest had to keep unclenching her fists as they ached to pummel him.

“Get over it!” he ordered. “I can feel your hate gaze, Forest. I was wrong, I’m sorry. Now can we move on? We’re about to enter the Wood and your attitude is far more likely to get us killed than anything I’ve done. Focus on getting us to the wizard, and you’ll be rid of me in no time.”