Stormfyre Chapter Fourteen

            Darius Steelbreeze stood motionless on his balcony, looking far to the west. The siege on Southcross was taking longer than he had foreseen. Weeks had passed but the might of the Blazing Sword proved to be stronger then he thought. Rumors found their way to him through his spies, rumors of armies to the north that sympathized with Southcross. Rumors that Baron Cromley, despite the fact that he had pledged assistance to Darius's holy quest, was abstaining from battle. Rumors that men travelled to the island where Dynasty lay, pledging themselves to its defense if the monster that was Darius Steelbreeze came there to take the High Throne.

            How could the fools even think that? The High Father wouldn't accept their aid, knowing that in secret, he was backing Darius, while trying to maintain that he was aloof to the entire matter. Unless the High Father lied to him. But why in the name of the One would he do that? There was no reason for him to, unless the dreams he had been having were false, that a touch of the fever that claimed his brother ran in his veins.

            Then there were the children, from two villages, heirs that he created in the heat of the passions of youth. Raza told him that they must be his, their faces alone were testament to any that had seen the king. Darius knew they stood in his way, for no man that took the High Throne could have blood heirs to pass the mantle onto. Perhaps that was the reason the High Father neglected naming him, due to those damn children. His assassins had failed for reasons that he had yet to discover, so he placed one of his men on their trail, giving him reason to believe that they were wanted for serious crimes against the kingdom. He enjoyed it so when his soldiers followed so blindly. It made all that easier for him to pull their strings.

            There were so many things to ponder, matters that refused to lie down. He had avoided most of his council for the last several days, feeling instead that he wanted to be alone. He even went so far as to send Urien to the war front to aid Commander Jaist, though he knew full well that the commander didn't need the aid to succeed.

            "Enemies are aligning against you, your highness," came a familiar, quiet voice from the shadow behind him.

            "I don't recall inviting your council this night, wizard."

            "Oh but you did invite me, your highness, with your thoughts, if with nothing else. They are plain to me as words in a book."

            "And what would you council me about then, eh? Come to tell me that you captured another centiant for me to use as a tracker? I must say that the centiant I have right now isn't working very well. He tracks with all the accuracy of a hound that has caught cold."

            "That is because you refuse to prompt him in the proper ways. He bends the words of any that give him orders. He is aiding the very children that you have ordered him to find. Even now he is leading your second in command of the Honor Guard south along the mountain pass when the children are cutting straight through."

            "Damn!" Darius screeched, charging off the balcony and plunging into his room. He put both hands against the cold stone of one of the walls and tried to calm himself. "Why did you not come to me with this sooner? I need send word to captain Faleem that he needs to discipline the wayward centiant a bit more."

            "That is not your only problem, your majesty. Would you care to know the destination that the children are travelling to?"

            "I would imagine that they seek Southcross if they are trekking so far west. What a delight that they would journey right into the heart of my forces!" Darius smiled in the dark, breathing in deep, knowing the fact that something was at least turning his way.

            "I am afraid not, your highness. The children head to Cromley Tower."

            "What did you say, Moondark?" The king's breath caught in his throat.

            "Avernus Cromley has not abstained from battle as you believe. He plots to bait you; the children are the most usable of such bait. He knows that you would do most anything to seize those children, so he waits for them with open arms to walk straight into his trap."

            "He plots against me?" Darius was seized with a rage he fought to control. He could feel his blood pound in his skull. His teeth ground against each other, and the calm, aloof smile of the wizard only made him angrier.

            "And as we both know, you cannot take the throne should blood heirs draw breath. I would say that if you cannot catch them before the lot of them reach Cromley Tower, then you shall have another siege on your hands, and rest assured that the baron is ready for this. He hopes that the struggle he will give you will last enough for the forces of the Eagle to catch you from behind and crush you between them."

            "Avalon backs him? How could you know this, wizard? Did you see this with your sight? Tell me!"

            "Calm, your majesty. There is no need for shouting. My hearing is no worse than it was when I first came to you. Cromley has indeed thought ahead and sent urgent word, saying that forces mount against him and he requires the aid of the Eagle. What Cromley does not know is that you already have soldiers tracking them. Neither does he know that a small army rides for Southcross, one that he could have diverted to his tower had the army known that Southcross has fallen."

            "The kingdom is fallen? When?" Darius asked, growing more than a little annoyed at how he learned all of this from the wizard rather than through his own spy network.

            "The night before last, your highness. Southcross had been taken. Commander Jaist thought it wise to call his retainers, and he has them riding to ambush the army heading south. They will be of no use to Cromley. By the time he has discovered there ever was mounting forces they will have been crushed by Dagoth's army. I believe that your only real concern at this point in time is intercepting those children before they reach Cromley Tower. Lest you wish to have another war right after this hard fought battle."

            "Can you do nothing, Moondark? Use your magic to take them. Surely you have power enough to destroy them all. Why do you not act so?"

            "I have given you the centiant to track them. I tell you of the things I see when they happen. Ask me no more to be your warrior, lest you will lose the council that I already give you. If I were to use my magic so blatantly, there would be others to contend with, that have nothing to do with this war. Let us leave it at that."

            "I must send word to captain Faleem, then. He must make haste if he plans to take them before they reach Twin Port," Darius looked stunned all of a sudden, new thoughts racing into his mind, making him even more nervous than he was a minute ago, "Name of the One! What if the children are only using that as a ploy to take a vessel out of Twin Port? They could easily sail around the south west bend and be in the golden city before any of my men could reach them!"

            "You worry too much, your highness. I know that it is the tower they seek. None have any intention of going to Diez. I do not believe that they are smart enough to think so far ahead, rushed as they are."

            "They know that they are being trailed?"

            Moondark sighed, making it clear that he was growing irritated with the king's incessant questions, "No, your majesty. They have no idea that there are men after them. None save one, and he has not seen any of the soldiers since weeks ago. They ride fast out of urgency, not out of sense that they are being trailed."

            "Good," was all Darius had to say about the matter, "I must fetch my scribe. I will send word to captain Faleem this night. With luck he will have the message in a fortnight.
            "That may be too late. The children are already past the Torvana Mountains. They trek west with great speed. I would send word to the village of Grenfall, for they are making nearly a straight line for it as we speak. Use your sway to have the local garrison hold them there until the good captain finds them. You may still send word to him, of course, about the centiant's erratic behavior."

            "Thank you, Moondark, for your wise council. It is always appreciated." The king went to his door and opened one side of it only a crack, yelling to the nearest guard that he would do well to fetch the scribe as soon as possible. The guard gave a hasty salute and ran for the stairs, armor clanking all the way.

            "Do not mention it, your majesty," Moondark spoke softly, his voice barely perceptible, "For if you achieve this then I would say that we all benefit." The wizard's smile became chill with the thoughts that stirred behind those dark eyes, "We will all benefit greatly."

            Cameron had made them ride hard for days after Benmont decided to join them, pushing them all on through the thick forest that dominated the countryside for miles around the Torvana Mountains. One the short lived nights that the group of them didn't drop on the spot they chose to camp Cameron would take out his blade and offer his teachings. Kirstin still took him up, trailing after him into the woods some ways before Cameron found a clear spot of grass that he liked. Benmont, without so many words, also decided that learning swordsmanship didn't sound bad. Kamil declined, saying that he wished to be alone and often wandered far from the camp sight, not returning until it was his shift for watch. Ferrin, who was still dismayed about Kamil's nightly wanderings, practiced the art with the good father, who seemed to know the language almost as well as Ferrin did. The youth sighed inwardly, thinking that he would now have to find more discreet ways of insulting him instead of just signing it.

            Nearly a week after meeting Benmont Cameron was able to purchase him a horse from a small cluster of huts that was steeped in a deep grove along the highway. The mare was older in years, but Cameron believed that it had another year of life left in it, maybe more. With a price of twenty silvers it was a deal that he could hardly pass up. By that time Benmont was looking nearly as healthy as he ever had. The constant practice with the wooden swords at night helped him greatly. As did the fact that he ate three times the amount of food anyone else did when they happened across berries or fruit that was growing in the wild. Benmont had been standing by the wild berry bush, cramming berries into his mouth as fast as he could find them when he noticed Ferrin watching him, a look on his face that was something akin to horror.

            "What?" Benmont asked irritably, wiping the stain of the wild berries off on his sleeve, "What are you looking at?"

            Ferrin just waved a hand in the air, as if he was warding him off. Benmont took a step closer and Ferrin leapt back, eyes wild, exaggerating a man feeling panic. Damien came over from where he had been standing, grooming his steed. He had a gentle smile on his face and his hands were folded in front of him.

            "What is wrong with him?" Benmont growled. Ferrin signed, making Benmont raise an eyebrow, and Damien chuckled a little.

            "Ferrin, that isn't very nice."

            "What did he say? How could you know what he's thinking by watching his hands?"

            "It's called sign. It's a language that only a few know. Ferrin knows it because he's mute, and has no other way to speak with others."

            "What did he say? Tell me."

            Damien sighed as Ferrin hid behind him, slinking down, "He asked if you would be kind enough not to eat him if he happened to get in your way."

            When he saw Benmont stiffen, anger broiling in his eyes, Damien shooed Ferrin away and stepped closer to him. Benmont had already forgotten the berries and was storming away, his fists balled tightly at his sides. Damien hurried to catch up and kept stride with him. Benmont only glanced over at the father, looking into his eyes only once. Damien met his gaze, stared at the fire of sorrow that burnt in Benmont's bright green eyes.

            "Ferrin was only joking with you, Benmont. I'm sure that you knew that."

            "I don't want his jokes, or his friendship. I just want to be left alone," He hurried his step away from the father. He grimaced when his thoughts turned to his mother. He vaguely remembered things from when he was in the grip of the fever, save for the fact that his mother had come to him, told him where to go, to hide in the day. She directed him south where he found the father. He found it too hard to write off ideas that she was merely illusion, a ghost of the black fever that haunted him in the dark. The crunch of footfalls behind him made him start, but he recalled quickly that the father was still following him. Wiping the grimace from his face, Benmont tried to look like he had nothing on his mind and prayed that it looked convincing.

            "I know you mourn the loss of your mother, Benmont, but you are not the only one here that has lost something. Kirstin, for example, lost her brother before she left Hamla. Kamil found his step father bleeding to death on the floor of his common room. Their lived have been marked by tragedy, just like yours, save that they persevere in spite of what happened, chosen to live. Why do you not do the same?"

            "I don't know what you're talking about. I grieve for my mother, but I'm not going to stop living until justice has been brought to those that killed her."

            "Justice? Or do you mean vengeance?"

            "What difference is there, father? You tell me! Tell me why I shouldn't be wishing for vengeance? Doesn't the One God say that it's alright to wish vengeance on those that have down wrong to you?"

            "The One God metes vengeance on those that have wronged another, but in his own way, in his own time. All things work for the One. When you wish vengeance you darken your heart, Benmont. The One God wants you to leave things in his hands, and in time justice will be served, but for the greater good. Can you understand that, Benmont?"

            "No father," Benmont said lowly, his eyes falling to the ground. He felt a blush creep over him and he thought tears weren't far off, "I don't understand. I don't want to think about it, or anything for that matter. If you would just leave me alone, father. I would just like to be alone for the moment."

            "Of course. Just remember, Benmont that you don't have to stay alone. Not anymore," Damien walked off, stopping only once to look back on the trail to where Benmont stood, "May the One light your path."

            "I wish someone would, father," Benmont said as Damien walked away, cutting through a grove of pines to reach the campsite. Cameron had chosen to make the camp at the bottom of a very dense grove where short grass grew in abundance. The wild berry patches were extensive on three sides of the camp and there was even a running stream that led to a pond in the west. Cameron told them all as they unsaddled their horses that they would probably be right on top of it by late morning the next day.

            Benmont was about to follow the trail further along the side of the hill where the grove opened to permit movement when he saw a glow behind him. Sighing, more reluctant to turn toward the glow then afraid of what it might be, he craned his head around. From the corner of his eye he saw the floating, radiant form of his mother, levitating nearly a foot in the air. Her gowns rolled around her as she looked upon him, the same sad smile that never seemed to leave her face as far as Benmont could tell.

            "Since when did you become so cryptic, my son?" she laughed a little as she spoke, making Benmont's heart ache. He turned away from her, swiping a hand through his hair.

            "Ever since the dead started talking with me," he replied, shaking his head and walking away. The glow of his mother form followed him, catching up until it was just behind him, nagging at him to turn around.

            "Benmont, There is no need to be this rude to your mother. I came here as before with a warning. One among your travelling party is in grave danger. They have come into contact with something unholy, something that may endanger you all. Take care, my son, and be weary of this dark power."

            "But mother, how am I to know...?" Benmont stopped talking when he saw that his mother had vanished as silently as she appeared to him, becoming smoke on the wind. Sighing, he made haste back to the camp, suddenly not wanting to be alone any longer. He was guessing Cameron would be in the clearing near the camp, teaching Kirstin and Kamil battle arts and that was reason enough for him to be there. He would take what he needed in the way of skill from Cameron, skill he would implement in the down fall of Darius Steelbreeze, if it was the king of Dagoth that sentenced his mother to death. The dull, loud cracks of wooden blades connecting told him that they were indeed practicing and he broke free of the leafy foliage to join the others in the clearing.

            Cameron was circling with Kamil, the youth holding the sword straight out two handed, face full of tension. Cameron kept a hand low on the hilt with the other waving behind him, a smile playing on his lips. Kamil swept in, striking straight down, but Cameron blocked the blow and let it slide from his sword. Stepping away, Cameron swung in a cross arc at Kamil's mid section. The youth barely had time to put his sword in the way of the strike. Even then he hit himself across the hip with his own sword.

            “Will I never get any better at this?" Kamil roared as he threw down his blade in the grass and stormed off, face red with embarrassment.

            "Kamil, there's no way that you will get any better if you sulk every time I connect with you! There is no better teacher than time."

            "Time?" Kamil laughed, spinning to face Cameron, slipping his over coat back on from where it lay on the ground, "How much time does someone need to parry two attacks? I've been at that for weeks and still I'm no better!"

            "If you didn't spend so much time out in the woods when we camp instead of practicing with us maybe you would get better," Kirstin noted from where she sat on a fallen tree on the edge of the clearing.

            "Shut up! At least I'm not fawning over him like some school girl, but you're little more than that, aren't you Kirstin?" Kirstin's face grew deep red and she shied away from Cameron, her lip trembling with words she fought not to speak. It wasn't proper for a lady to have a sharp tongue. She bit her lip, trying to maintain dignity if nothing else.

            "Enough! Kamil, if you don't want to practice, I will not make you. It's obvious from the dark rings under your eyes and your pale skin that you haven't been sleeping enough. I think that you should go back to the father before you say anything else." Kamil scooped up his wooden sword and stomped off, not bothering to look back. Benmont crept over as quietly as he could, feeling like he was walking on egg shells.

            "Kirstin, I'm sure he didn't mean to lash out at you," Cameron sat down on the fallen tree beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Kirstin smiled at him, putting her hand over his, her eyes overly bright. She suddenly realized what she was doing and stood up, brushing her travel pants off, taking up the wooden blade.

            "Um...shall we begin?" she asked, her voice quivering with renewed embarrassment.

            "If you insist," Cameron said, mirth edging into his voice. He had just raised his sword when he saw Benmont from the corner of his eye. The broad shouldered young man was closing around his left, trying to keep quiet.

            "Did you decide that you'd like another lesson, Grimnight?"

            Benmont glowered at the thought of being heard when he had made an attempt to be silent. Nodding in silence, Cameron told him to take up the practice sword that he made for him. Benmont stepped further into the clearing, sword in hand, holding it low on the hilt as Cameron had shown him to, telling him that with the strength in his limbs that having a lower hold would emphasize that strength.

            "Well, when do we begin?" Benmont asked, raising an eyebrow to Cameron as the elder warrior leaned back on the fallen tree, arms crossing his chest.

            "I just don't have the energy to keep up with you three," Cameron told him with a smile, "So I think that you should duel with Kirstin. It would be good practice for the both of you, I think."

            "Really?" Kirstin turned to him, her eyes wide with eager anticipation, "You want Benmont to fight with me?"

            "Go ahead, but remember, you're not out there to kill each other, only to sharpen your skill."

            "What other reason is there to learn the skill than to kill someone?" Benmont queried. Cameron shook his head, putting a hand to his chin.

            "Grimnight, there are other reasons for the skill. Someday you will know what those reasons are. Until that time know enough to speak so insolently in front of your teacher. Now begin."

            Kirstin met Benmont in the field, circling the big man with her blade in both hands. Benmont swept in fast, not bothering to waste time circling. His sword caught air above her head as Kirstin ducked low, onto one knee and stabbed at him. Benmont's eyes went wide as he stroked down to block the blow. The end of her sword glanced off his side, however, making him flinch. Gritting his teeth, he swatted the blade away, only to have her lift it around her head and strike at his right side. Pulling his bulk back, he parried the attack, bringing her sword low to the ground. He raised his foot, trying to stamp it out of her hands but she withdrew and when his foot came down she slapped the flat of the wood against his thigh. Hissing more in anger then in pain, he brought his sword up and straight down, meaning to take her on the head. Kirstin glanced the sword off of the end and swung in a straight side slash, hitting him right along the ribs. Benmont growled and caught the sword by bringing his arm down on it. With the other arm he pushed her hard, making her sprawl to the ground head over heels.

            "Name of the One!" Benmont shouted, realizing what his rage had just done he dropped his practice sword and scrambled to the ground beside her. To his surprise he found her lying on her back, laughing at the sky. She held a single hand out for Benmont to take. Smiling despite himself, he took her hand and pulled her to her feet.

            "Kirstin, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you. I was...I was angry about not being able to block your attacks."

            "Nothing to forgive. You sure are strong, Benmont," Kirstin laughed as she held his arm and snatched grass blades from her fiery hair. Benmont shook his head and sighed, standing there for her until she was done. Cameron came strolling over, a cautious look on his face. Kirstin rushed over to him before he could say anything.

            "Oh, Cameron, Benmont didn't mean to do that! He just became a little too eager to win! I'd dare say that it was a good strategy, too, wouldn't you?"

            "I can't argue with that," Cameron replied, not taking his eyes from Benmont, "I'd say that an early rest will do us all a world of good. Make your way back to camp. We'll be riding early tomorrow so be sure to sleep early tonight."

            Kirstin and Benmont left, passing Damien as they made their way out of the clearing. The priest looked a little haggard. It was no rumor that sleep hadn't been finding him very often the last week and it was beginning to show. Damien walked slowly over to Cameron, hands in the folds of his robes. The Testament, the word of the One handed down by his disciples to man, was clutched at his midsection. The priest had stopped his lessons with Ferrin for the last several days, instead engrossing himself in the pages of the Testament. Damien stopped before Cameron, smiling tiredly from a face fully grown with a dark beard.

            "You should be sleeping, father. Or at least attempting to."

            "You know, Cameron, you may call me Damien if you wish."

            "I think I prefer father to Damien. What are you doing out here? I assume you didn't come here to tell me that. Or did you decide that you'd like a fighting lesson?"

            "Perhaps another time," Damien told him, "But you're right. I came out here to ask if going to the south is the right thing to do. Are you sure that Cromley Tower is where we should be heading?"

            "Father, it's a little too late for you to get cold feet. Going back to Hamla would be suicide."

            "I'm not suggesting Hamla, but somewhere far north of here."

            "North? What in the name of the One is north of here, father? Southcross, which has probably fallen to the enemy by now? Or perhaps you want us to travel all the way to Avalon? To ask for the aid of the Eagle?"

            "No, I think farther still then that. I dreamt of the frosted north past the Canvese Mountains, where the ageless dwell."

            "You would have us travel to the savages of the ageless on account of a dream, father? I know you haven't been sleeping well, but that is no reason to start panicking, or mistaking your dreams for reality!"

            "I am clear headed, Cameron. This dream I have over and over while I sleep. I cannot shake the feeling that my God is trying to tell me something. I believe that we should travel to the north. There is something that must be done in the land of the ageless!"

            "Father, we travel to Twin Port. If you feel that you must go north because of this dream you have then I won't stop you, but I was given coin to ensure the safety of them, and I don't intend to lead them into the wastelands on account of your God, or anything else for that matter."

            "Sleep, father. In the morning you'll feel better about things. And speak not to the children of this. There's no need for them to believe that your God is sending you divine omens. That is if you intend to stay."

            "I will stay to ensure their safety as well. And Cameron, He is your God as well as mine no matter how hard you attempt to deny it. Even if you have forgotten him he will never forget you." Damien didn't bother to wait for a reply, instead turning around and making his way for the camp sight. Ferrin was waiting for him at the edge of the clearing, trying hard to look like he was admiring the trees. Damien could tell by the look that Ferrin gave him that he overheard what was spoken between the men.

            Ferrin, you shouldn't have been eavesdropping. That isn't right.

            I was just following you to tell you that supper was ready, Ferrin signed, I didn't really mean to catch what you were saying. Cameron's too pigheaded to understand anything but the fight. Reasoning with him is like reasoning with that tree there. Perhaps the tree would at least have the decency to listen to what you have to say.

            "Ferrin, that isn't right to speak so of the man. He is doing well to make sure we arrive at our goal safely. It is his right to think as he wishes, or believe what he chooses to believe. Now let us eat. If the One is merciful I will get a good night's sleep this night."

            Elsewhere, far from the light of the camp fire that blazed in the dark, Kamil sat cross legged at the edge of a stream, the light of the crescent moon shining silver off the surface. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the trees and song birds sang from the tree tops. Kamil tossed a stone into the stream and watched it sink from sight. He closed his eyes and leaned back on a stone, rubbing his face with balled up hands.

            The sound of someone moving behind him made him start and he turned to gaze into the darkened forest, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. There was nothing in the forest that his eyes could make out, save for the shadowed outlines of trees standing tall against the wind. He had the sudden impression that someone was beside him. Spinning on his knees, he let tension ease when he saw that it was only Maria. The lovely young woman, dressed in sheets of silk and lace, knelt beside him. She wrapped her pale arms around his neck and kissed him, her hands coming to rest on either side of his face to keep him there. Kamil kissed her back, like he did so many times before on the nights he met her in the forest. When he was with her the weariness of travel left him as well as the pains of memory.

            She pulled away from him and sat down beside him, watching him with eyes darker then the shadows. Kamil opened his eyes a second later, sighing when he saw her sitting there, a playful smile on her lips. She ran a hand through the length of his hair and he shuddered, enjoying every second that she was close to him.

            "Why do you take this form?" Kamil questioned, "Will you please change?"

            "Of course, beloved. If that is what pleases you."

            Before his eyes she lost tangible form for a brief second, veiled in shadow that had a mind of its own. The form returned, falling over her like a blanket, molding itself to the lines of her body. In the place of Maria sat a young, fair dark skinned woman with hair black as raven's feathers. Her eyes were glossy, reflecting the sliver of moon in them.

            "Does this please you?" Sara asked him, putting a cupped hand to his cheek. Kamil nodded, holding that hand to his face.

            "I'm glad that you came, Sara. I've missed you."

            "And I you, my beloved. I cannot say how good it is to know that you still wait for me."

            "I will wait for you every night, Sara. But I do not understand why you wouldn't want me to bring Kirstin here to see you. She would love to see you one last time. It grieved her as much as I when you were killed. I think that it would please her very much to know you are well after death."

            "I told you, beloved, I cannot show myself to her, or any of the others. Only you, who I have come back for. In death I could not rest until I found you. And now that I found you I will not leave you again. Please understand."

            "I won't tell anyone, Sara. I swear. I have told no one thus far, now have I?"

            "No, but you were followed one night. By the scraggly one with the animal eyes," she told him, her face losing its pretty facade for an instant.

            "Ferrin? You're talking about Ferrin? He followed me?"

            "Beloved, my time is not long here. I haven't strength enough to stay, so I must borrow your strength." Kamil smiled at her, holding her hand in his and drawing her close to envelop her in his embrace.

            "Sleep, beloved," she spoke, with every word making his eyes sink faster to closing, "Sleep and I will partake of your strength. When the moon is full in the next month I will be ready for you." She let Kamil's slack form rest against the side of the rock and leaned away from him, taking one of his arms and rolling the sleeve of his shirt up to his elbow. Running along the length of his forearm was a small slash, crusted and scabbed from healing. Sara eyes darkened totally, becoming pits of black where no light could exist. She opened a delicate hand with a single long nail at the tip, dark as her eyes were. She split the scab open, watching with morbid fascination as fresh blood rushed out from the old wound.

            Breath coming fast in her chest, Sara knelt down and placed her mouth squarely over the cut, drinking the blood as fast as it could come out. As she drank the pale color of her flesh became dark again, full of color stolen from Kamil's blood. When she had her fill she pulled away, taking care not to kill him before it was time for her to drain all of his life. She gave him one last look before taking to the air, born of the wind. Then she was gone, breaking apart as tangibility left her. Smoke trailed after her parting, the only sign that she had ever been.

            Kamil woke later that night by the stream, his arm aching from the wound that never seemed to close, his mind hazy with what he had been doing the last hour. He cast an eye about for Sara, hoping that she was still there, but like every time she came to visit him there was nothing in the forest except him. He decided to make haste back to the camp before the others came looking for him. He didn't want to give away Sara's secret, especially if it meant losing her a second time. Rolling his sleeve down, he stood from the rock, feeling as little dizzy, and stumbled back to the camp site for a few hours rest before the morning sun found them marching south again.