Revyll
This is no longer an older version of the story! Both chapters updated as of 2010/06/11.
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
Unintended Meeting
There are countless stories of men and women, normal people without thoughts of grandeur or fame. They go through their everyday lives, not in search of adventure or conquest; simply making a living amidst the doldrums of repetition. However, in some chance event, some do show that bit of greatness within them that is so often unknown. For most it is short. Their lives return to normal, their deeds forgotten quickly. Some, however, are led down a path from which they do not return – led however unwillingly to some great deed that may change their life forever, which may change the world. Yet too often even these few are forgotten, lost among the kings and prophets who dominate history, even if those kings may have done no more than hoard their wealth.
In the depths of a dense forest, a story much like this was beginning. There is no humble man opening his eyes to the morning sun, no great king sitting on his throne, not even what you might call a noble cause. He was a little-known and rather mysterious man; for all his known life he had been a wanderer. It seemed he was always searching, looking for some place that would fit. He strove for a meaning without a clue as to what it might be.
He did not avoid other people. Truth be told, it was often a small relief when he came upon a city. It was a place of easy rest and a place to renew his supplies. Few ever came to know him, however. A frustrating sense of alienation, an overwhelming impulse to continue traveling, would drive him on in a matter of days. He knew where his condition must have begun; his childhood had been locked away for many years, but the reason for this oft lamented loss was a mystery to him. The only thing he had retained of his previous life was his name.
He was a rough man. This is not to say that his appearance was unkempt. Indeed, he was rather orderly about what he did. Though he was still a relatively young man, his face wore the battered expression of one with experience. It was a stony, chiseled look which dulled any expression that crossed it. Very seldom did it crack out of the mold time had created for it.
It was not easy wandering the land. Everything he carried was for a purpose, and his survival often depended upon knowing how to adapt to what was available. Vast plains both grassy and barren; dense forests, wet and noisy or silent and bleak; mountains tall and weathered; deserts of frigid ice and snow and sweltering, sun baked sand. All these he had crossed after the time when his memory faded to mist.
He ran a hand through his coarse brown hair, surveying his surroundings. Great lines of trees stretched into the distance, as they had for miles. For all his experience, he had trouble getting accustomed to their peculiar traits. The wide, drooping leaves, in all their numbers, grew at the apex of the slender trunks. In effect, the canopy was an entirely solid blanket blocking out the view of the sky, but the leaves were thin, and light could pass through them without losing a great deal of its strength. Visibility wasn’t the problem.
The reason for his annoyance was the loss of the sky. It was an invaluable asset that told him a number of things. Without it his only sense of time was the brightness of the day and his only compass his own mind. They were miserable and misleading things to be stuck with, and as if to give him a final annoyance, the leaves held in the moisture like a solid wall. The heat of a desert would surely have been more comforting, but he didn’t complain. Comfort was hardly something he went out of his way to find.
The city Tristiff stood only a day or two behind him, near the center of the vast expanse of trees through which he tread. This forest was rooted in the shadow of two ancient mountain ranges, the Kanethiin. He had departed not long past, and he had been sorry to leave. It was a grand city, the capitol of the country in which he now traveled, but when the feeling came and told him to move on there was no fighting it.
Most travelers would follow one of the two massive trade roads which spanned the breadth of the valley and cut through broad passes to the north and southwest. Yet for their ease of use, the trip was an exceedingly long one. Fortunately, the Kanethiin were old and weathered mountains, passable in most parts. Despite the rougher journey, he had always been one for speed.
Turning past a thick cluster of trees, a dense wall of leaves abruptly swept down from the canopy above. He had come across the phenomenon before. A clearing lay beyond, and he breathed a small sigh of relief at the foretelling sound seeping through the barrier. Pushing through the flimsy shroud, he emerged into bright sunlight and gave a rare smile at the sight that greeted him.
Greenish-grey rock spanned most of the area. It rose in a number of odd shelves dotted throughout the expanse. At the far eastern end of the clearing, the rock rose sharply to form a high ledge over which rushed a hefty stream of water. This noisy cascade had dug a small lake out of the rock, several meters across, which tapered slowly in a pear-shape until it regained its former stature and meandered back into the woods. Revyll had been hoping to come across some water before the day ended. The sweltering heat of the forest did little good to his water supply.
His footsteps rapped upon the hard rock of the shoreline, barely audible above the roaring crash of water. For a brief moment the man stared down at himself in the gently shifting waves, into the gray-blue eyes he expected to find there. He noted the faint stubble that already peppered his chin, the cause of a somewhat hasty shave. Letting out a disgruntled sigh, he unstrung and removed his water-skin from its place at his hip and pulled off the stopper. He knelt down to fill it, and every muscle in his body went rigid. The cold edge of a steel blade pressed lightly against his neck.
A deadly soft voice whispered from behind. “Who are you?”
Silently cursing himself for being caught so unawares, he tried to collect his thoughts above the loud rush of water. As he struggled to come up with a response that would prevent his neck form being cut, the woman’s voice came again. “What are you doing here?” she added a bit more darkly.
The oddness of that question struck him, but it didn’t seem the time to ponder it. “Merely a traveler,” he said quite truthfully. “I have little of value, miss thief, but I am expected. Take what you will and leave in peace.”
“You’re no native of Tristiff; that’s obvious enough. I’m afraid you’ll find that is little comfort to me.” He cursed silently and began to wonder if he could possibly catch the woman’s arm before the knife sliced through his throat. He didn’t think so. “Feigning ignorance will not save you from this blade. I suppose it’s too much to expect you to tell me who sent you?”
Quite trapped and clueless as to her meaning, he could think to say only one thing – the truth. He was completely at her mercy. “Nobody sent me. I was merely stopping here to fill my waterskin. I expected nobody else this deep in the forest.”
He expected a bloom of pain at any moment, but the seconds passed in tense silence, filled only by the churning waters. Then she spoke again. “I don’t know why, but I think I believe you. I wish to see your face. Turn around slowly. If you make any sudden movements, you know what will happen.”
Feeling the edge of the blade very keenly, he began to turn, his every movement achingly controlled, every effort focused on being as unthreatening as possible. Somehow he managed it, one knee on the ground. Whatever he thought he might have expected, the woman that greeted his eyes was not it. Dark red hair dangled in a large, wet clump over her right shoulder. Two hazel eyes stared out from a thin, fair face. Despite the intense, wary glare she focused upon him, she was a rather stunning woman.
A long green dress, nearly the same color as the surrounding leaves, cascaded down her slender figure, hugging tightly to her body and falling almost straight to the ground from the swell of her hips. Though the cut seemed rather plain from what he had seen before, the fabric was woven with intricately looping patterns that he found oddly mesmerizing. It was simple and elegant all at once. Though not skin-tight, the cloth above her waist was fit closely to the curves of her body, and the bottom hem of the flowing folds rested some inches above the ground.
The tip of the blade pressed on his chin, and he quickly lifted his head to escape the pain. He found his eyes meeting her own. She stared at him intently, as if trying to read his soul. He wasn’t sure what she was looking for. Her brow drew down. “I can not place your features,” she said somewhat perturbed, “From where do you hail?”
“That- is a long story,” he said hesitantly, the threat of her ire still weighing on his words.
“Long story?” she said in consternation, “It is a simple question. Just answer it.”
“I can’t,” he said in frayed exasperation. As dark suspicion crawled across her features, he knew he needed to somehow convince her of the truth – before suspicion bred condemnation. “I’m not concealing it,” he tried to explain, “I have no home. Truthfully. I have called no land my home for a very long time. I travel. Some call it wanderlust; I don’t know what to call it. I am merely where I am.”
The look on her face was much what he expected – as if she was trying to figure out if she could believe what she had just heard, but sensing the reality of it just the same. Her eyes darted to and fro, her thoughts visibly shifting before him. A curious look settled over her features, her eyes focused upon her dagger. Her mouth opened, but it took a moment for the question to leave her lips. “Do you know me?”
Know you? The words rang in his ears, and he couldn’t help but wonder if his life still rested on the answer. Know you? Was he supposed to? Did she know him somehow? Eyes riveted on her face, he answered only, “No.”
Mild surprise registered there, but she seemed to have expected his answer. To his own shock, he felt the knife slide from his skin.
Though she no longer held it to him, she kept the blade pointedly in view, making it deadly clear that her trust was limited. “Apologies,” she said quietly, “but know that I have good reason to be wary of strangers. What is your name?”
He rubbed his jaw as a flurry of questions spun through his head, heaving a sigh and wondering if he should even ask them. “Revyll,” he said simply.
“Revyll,” she said quizzically. “That’s all?”
Grunting in response, he answered, “Cintran, if you must know. And yes, that is all.” A fleeting smile crossed her lips, as if his reaction amused her. Annoyance was quickly replacing the tension of the last few minutes. “Am I allowed to ask your name?” As soon as he asked, he wished he had not.
She twirled the knife in her fingers as she pondered the question. He opened his mouth to take it back. They would be parting ways soon enough. He supposed it didn’t matter.
“Rhetaiya.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That’s all?”
She turned her eyes pointedly to his own. “For now, yes.”
Dark thoughts tumbling in his mind, he grabbed his waterskin, intent to finally finish his work. From the corner of his eye he caught her pressing her wet hair and suddenly realized she must have been bathing not long before. He tried to push the thought from his mind.
With no further ado, his skin filled, he turned from her gaze and started off, following the contours of the lake edge. “Oh, and if you really are a thief, I’d rather you not try anything else. Goodbye.” He threw the statement back jokingly, but then put her from his mind for good. At least, he would have. He had barely made it to the far edge of the lake when he discerned her soft footsteps scuffing against the stone behind. Not letting on that he had noticed her movements, he traipsed alongside the trickling creek that broke away from the lake edge and pressed through the leaf wall on the opposite side of the clearing. He abruptly turned and waited.
She came through shortly behind and narrowly kept from colliding with him. Her movements were no longer directly threatening, but he was beyond tired of the affair and sought to press on without any further incident. “Yes?” he asked bluntly.
She tried to suppress her surprise and shot fiery words at him. “If you really don’t know, I’m the daughter of Lord Haynin Ji’dani, the ruler of Tristiff and all of Kaeyriff, and while I wasn’t expecting such a meeting out here, you will not hide your intentions from me – whether or not you appear to be alone.” He didn’t see her dagger, but it had to be hidden somewhere within those folds of cloth.
Revyll was silent for more than a moment. At first he was simply trying to put her rushed words together in his mind, and after that he tried to decipher them. When his thoughts finally settled, he held himself on the verge of laughing out loud at the silly story she expected him to believe. “Look, Rhetaiya, if that’s really your name, I can’t answer you, and to explain that we’d be standing here for a very long time. Maybe you know these lands, in which case you’ll know how far I need to go to get within a half-day’s journey to the eastern mountains by sunset. I don’t have time. If you’re willing to follow me all that way, then perhaps I’ll have time to talk more, but I have a feeling such a walk is not in your plans. Do we agree?”
At first the coals in her eyes were white-hot. She looked like she wanted to throttle him for some great injustice, but gradually the raging pools cooled until finally she had an answer for him. “Fine. I will follow you, Revyll, and you had better be ready to talk by then.” He was dumbstruck. What did this woman expect from him? Had she not just held him at knifepoint in the clearing?
After staring blankly at her for what felt like hours, he sighed, “I can’t very well stop you, but you should know there’s little on me worth anything, and I doubt you’ll even get that now that you can no longer surprise me.” He set himself to motion at once, continuing east. True to her word, the woman followed behind him in utter silence, and Revyll began to seriously wonder about her story. Certainly, if she were what she claimed, such actions would be preposterous? He had to admit his experience with high authority was rather nonexistent, but nothing he heard had ever come close to this. What did the woman expect to gain with such a title? Was it all just a ruse? He certainly didn’t believe that she merely wanted what she asked, but why go to all the trouble?
In time his questions slid away and he let himself slip contentedly back into his role in the wilderness. The footsteps behind him were out of the norm, but ultimately nothing new. This was not the first time he had a companion, if not several. Usually it was coincidental; they were traveling the same way and decided it was better to go together. There had been many faces, and all had a story; all but him. They would sit around the campfire and talk of themselves, chatting away until sleep called. Revyll was content to listen, but he could never tell. People probably thought him quiet or sheltered, but in reality he simply didn’t know what to say. In the end they all left to fade into his past. This woman would do the same.
The trip through the forest was not a difficult one. The land was quite flat and rarely rose or fell to a troubling degree. Because of the near-spotless leaf covering, little flora had the chance to grow beneath the trees’ high limbs. The worst were a few, scrubby plants and slippery layers of the flat leaves that occasionally drifted down in the still air, both easily avoidable. The thickness of that air could seem suffocating at first, but it was surprising how quickly you adjusted to it. The musky odor of the flora and fauna was everywhere: the trilling cries of birds fluttering from branch to branch, the occasional, guttural calls of earthbound animals that always seemed distant, and the constant buzz and chatter of insects. Thankfully none of the bugs seemed interested in them.
Hours passed slowly overhead, and the waning sun began to paint the oranges and reds of early dusk on the leaves above. Rhetaiya had followed doggedly, and though his pace had been quick and relentless, she hadn’t uttered a quip or complaint. The long, hot, and monotonous trip through the sea of trunks had taken its toll on both of them, however. The red-haired woman’s breathing was noticeably heavy, and Revyll’s stomach was beginning to growl in protest. Sunsets were quick in the valley, and the remaining daylight was shorter than it might otherwise have seemed. Though he was not quite content with the distance he had gone, he knew the mountains were within reach the next day, and decided at last that they had gone far enough.
A ghost of relief rested in Rhetaiya’s features when he halted and faced her, but above all she seemed expectant, as if she anticipated his story right there. If any anger was left within her, it was well hidden. “We had better make camp before nightfall,” he informed her, “It’s not far away.” To his continuing surprise, she nodded in acceptance. He wondered if something had changed between them to which he was unaware. Perhaps she’d decided to give up her farce, but that still left the question of why she was following him. “I’ll start collecting wood, then.”
“Alright, well why don’t you give me your bedroll so I can set that out?” He froze for a moment, the stray thought that she might be a thief not out of his mind altogether, but he quickly realized how unlikely it was. He shrugged off his weighty pack and eased it to the ground. For the first time he spotted her own possessions. Revyll had overlooked them when they started off; the woman must have snatched the articles from a hidden nook. She carried nowhere near as much as he, only a couple small bags hung against her waist and some light bedding strung across her back. He absently noted that her hair had mostly dried and lay flat to her back, save a few stray wisps that the breeze had pulled over her left cheek.
“If you wish,” he answered simply and stalked off. The day grew steadily darker and redder as he searched. It was hard to find good wood in the wet forest. Even with the best of luck it would be a chore igniting a fire, but the nights grew quite cool. The condensing moisture would only make it worse to be without. He worked as fast as he could manage.
With the last bundle in hand, Revyll returned to find that the slender woman had not only done what she had offered but had already cleared and encircled a spot for the fire. A thin layer of kindling had even been spread across the base. Sitting contentedly on her sheets, she gave him a look as if to say, ‘What took you so long?’
With the small pile assembled, he rummaged for his spark-rocks and, spilling the tiny lights across the tinder, eventually coaxed a small flame to life. It was an insignificant thing, but time would help it dry the timber and bloom to its full glory. At last content, Revyll returned to his pack and set himself down upon the remaining bed.
She wasn’t actually sure why she was following the man. While it was true that she sensed no deception upon his features, that was little comfort that he was what he claimed. The man seemed to show little emotion at all. He moved with a learned efficiency. Each step seemed carefully placed yet completely automatic. All of these could have been traits of a highly trained assassin. While she knew of no such plot, it was always a threat even when the people of the land seemed content, and she was dreadfully alone in this forest. So why had she told him what she did? She would have the truth from him eventually.
She cast a glance at the unusual man and found him paying her little attention at all. He was rummaging in his large pack for something. Supposing it was as good a time as any, she relaxed the string on the small, white pouch at her hip and quickly drew a small crystal from within. It was not a terribly rare or valuable stone, but it was cut intricately and precisely. The numerous planes and folds cut into its surface served to pull the surrounding light to a bright spot at its core. That glimmer of light remained while observing the small stone from nearly every direction. It was quite purposefully done.
Giving the man one last careful look, she took a deep breath and focused her entire being on that tiny spot of light. She tried to put every stray thought and worry out of her mind, as she had done countless times before. Nothing existed but that tiny speck between her fingers. When she felt ready, she pulled that light into herself; pulled in the extreme focus of being that she had placed upon it. As that unified thought settled into the center of her body, the world around her exploded with energy. It was if she had suddenly gained a new sense; as if she could feel the things around her in a completely new way. Though not new, the experience nearly took her breath, as it always did.
She could almost see the eddying air currents as they flowed through the clearing. The sparks of the fire, now quickly gaining strength, had grown even more luminous to her mind. Beneath her, down in the deep rock, she could feel an almost achingly slow pressure as titanic forces pushed against one another. Her awareness bloomed as a bird took to wing above, bursting with the energy of flight and leaving a quickly dissipating trail in the air as it passed. The man, Revyll, was filled with the multitudinous, eddying energies of a living body. His head practically swirled as he delved in his thoughts. His lifeblood churned though his veins and arteries and settled into the rest if his being with a pulsing regularity.
And through all this, a heavy calmness settled upon her mind. It was a natural part of Khi’tan, yet through this calm she still acknowledged the disappointing fact that it had not been enough. It had taken too long. She felt she would be practicing for years, though her frustration quietly slipped away even as it surfaced.
She studied the man through this lens of lucidity and found him hunched over a pot to which he was adding various ingredients. As if on cue, she recognized the hunger of the past several hours aching in her stomach. He had pressed her to the limit of her endurance, though she had tried to conceal that fact. She wondered if he would share whatever he seemed to be making. Their relationship wasn’t exactly cordial. Suddenly presented with the option, she found she dearly desired something other than the same rations she had been living on for the past week. Even Khi’tan could not conceal that desire. The food was good enough, but it had long grown monotonous.
Not sure how to broach the subject, she asked simply, “What are you making?”
He flinched, as if he had been waiting tensely for her to speak. “Just a simple stew,” he said without turning. “I’ve some dried meat and herbs from the city.”
“If you’d like, I have some bread we can share. It was made to last, but I’m afraid it has started to go a bit stale.” In truth, she had been going to return to the city. Her supplies were dwindling. “Still good, though.” She tried not to let on to her desire.
He grunted and finally turned to look at her, only a hint of suspicion darkening his eyes. “Very well. I guess we can soften it in the broth.” She felt a flicker of happiness at the ‘we’ but then noticed that his suspicion had turned to veiled curiosity. He looked at her strangely for a few seconds then shook his head and turned away. She wondered if he’d noticed her hold on Khi’tan – the tranquility of the state gave one a rather unique visage. Still, the reaction seemed odd.
As she dug the last of the bread from its wrapping in her small pack, she decided it was finally time to broach the subject. “I admit you have me almost convinced that you are what you say, but your story had better be a good one, Revyll.” He nearly missed a step as he rose to set his pot over the fire, which had finally caught in earnest. She smiled.
“And exactly what is it you want to know?” he growled over his shoulder.
“I want to know where you’re from, and why you’re here,” she stated simply, watching his movements with the clarity of Khi’tan.
Heaving a heavy sigh, he turned from the pot and looked at her grimly. “I thought I already answered that.”
“You told me you have no home, and that much I can believe, but you didn’t tell me your origin. Or what keeps you on the move.”
Rubbing his temples, he seemed to grasp for words. “There is no- I can’t- You don’t understand.”
“Clearly not. That’s why I’m asking you.” She was already tiring of his games. Did he expect to worm away from the question? He looked to be considering his response when the puzzling look returned to his face. It was as if he was seeing something he simply didn’t recognize.
“Why do you look different?” he asked hesitantly, “Something is different about you.” She was baffled, but also keenly aware that he was dodging her questions.
“I am under Khi’tan. Have you never seen it before?” That must have been it. He had simply never seen a practicing Shia, or a Shii for that matter.
“What? What is Khi’tan?” he asked, lost.
She couldn’t believe what she had just heard. The ability may have been somewhat rare, but the existence of the Order was common knowledge. Yet, he genuinely seemed clueless. “The Shii? Some call them Lifeweavers.” she said plainly, expecting recognition. There was none.
“I don’t know what you’re asking me,” he said, blinking in consternation.
“No, apparently you don’t,” she said curtly, rising to her feet. She had almost expected to yell the words, but the cloak over her mind eased away such emotions. Rubbing his jaw, he looked at her like a puzzle he needed to decipher. Anger buzzed beneath Khi’tan as she thought to herself, that’s what I’m supposed to be doing. But she suddenly knew that he couldn’t possibly be a threat. The man didn’t know of the Shii, much less who she was. Either that or he was an incredible actor with a ridiculous story. With as much a glare as she could managesans emotion, she thrust the bread into his hand, told him, “I need to think,” and promptly stalked off into the quickly dimming woods.
He watched her go, her green dress swishing softly behind, absolutely and utterly confused. He didn’t know what to make of any of it. She had clearly expected him to understand all the strange words she had just spouted, and shortly after he returned to camp she had adopted that strange, far-off look; a look he found impossible to read. Having left most of her possessions behind, he knew she’d be back sooner or later.
By the time she returned, the stew was nearly ready, bubbling at a slow but steady pace, nicely thick. He heard her tread softly into camp as he took the pot from the fire and gave her a quick glance just to make sure she wasn’t trying to sneak up on him, but her demeanor was calm, her movements serene. She still wore the same look that he found slightly unnerving.
“Welcome back to camp, Princess,” he said with an arch of his brow and a hint of sarcasm.
She nodded, apparently still lost in thought, but then spoke suddenly. “I believe you are what you say, Revyll. But you also intrigue me. If it is no trouble, I wish to travel with you for a while. I admit it has been a lonely several days, and company would be a welcome change.” Either she had ignored or missed the sarcasm. He wasn’t sure which.
He tried to tell himself that this woman had threatened his life not long past; that if her proposed title had any truth in it he could be walking into a snake’s nest; that he should refuse her offer and move on. The words wouldn’t come. That distant, tranquil look she had called Khi’tan tugged at him. He knew nothing about it, but at the same time it felt strikingly familiar to him. Beyond that, he had to admit that, despite all his trepidations about the woman, he liked her. She offered help earlier without being asked and had even done more than he expected - having some of that work lifted was a welcome change. She exhibited a keen intelligence, both in her curiosity and simple awareness, a trait he greatly valued. And he’d certainly had worse-looking companions in his time.
“Very well,” he said coarsely and noted a glimmer of surprise in her eyes underneath that calm facade. She hadn’t been expecting his assent. Hungry as he felt, the mild aromas wafting from the pot in his hands were making his mouth water. Motioning with his head, he said, “I have a bowl in my pack. Grab it and I’ll pour you some.” She smiled at that, though he noted that it almost seemed forced, and quickly set to the task.
Soon enough they were both enjoying the meal as the darkness of night settled thickly about their small fire. Rhetaiya’s soft voice slipped over the crackling flame. “I know I may not look it, but I’m truly grateful, Revyll. After days of bread, and a handful of nuts and dried fruit, a warm meal is very welcome.”
He nodded silently, trying not to betray his own surprise. The bread she had shared was delicious, stale or not, and he almost felt ashamed by his humble stew. Suddenly, bowl clattering to the ground, the woman let out a strangled cry, her remaining stew spilling over the soil. Turning in surprise, he found her calm demeanor shattered. Her eyes stared out above the crackling fire, vacant of focus. Her face was a mask of sheer terror, jaw hanging in apparent shock. He almost dropped his own pot. Quickly setting it aside, he started to rush to her when just as suddenly he stopped in his tracks. Goosebumps shot down his arms, and it wasn’t simply Rhetaiya that had caused them. Something else had suddenly struck him.
The air around them was deathly quiet. Every muscle in his body tensed with a sudden sense of implacable danger. The stillness was all-consuming. He heard no buzzing of insects. He heard no shuffle of wind through the leaves. The sparkling fire, plainly visible to his eyes, mere feet away, crackled wildly, barely making a sound. Even his own, rushed breaths seemed shallow. Pure silence had enveloped the forest.
He scanned the trees around their camp, peering into the darkness, searching in vain for something to explain what he was now experiencing. There was nothing. Shaking his head and collecting his focus, he looked back to his companion. Curled to her knees, she was clutching her shoulders, knuckles white, grasping the green fabric of her dress in a deathly grip. Her eyes were still wide open; as if she stared into a horrible abyss. Her whole body shook feverishly.
His jaw set grimly, he rushed to her side and called her name. It emerged from his throat as a whisper. Struggling to reign in his own panic, he grabbed her arms and shook her gently, trying to pull her attention. She didn’t respond.
It was clear something gripped her, far more profoundly than it did him. With a desperate effort, he tried to get her body to straighten, to get her to face to meet his own, to give him any indication of awareness. She fought against him unconsciously, every muscle in her body taut, straining against her terror. Somehow he managed to pull her up, to straighten her a bit, but that only resulted in her leaning desperately against him, head buried in his arm, pushing him backward. He gripped her wrists, muscling her arms to her sides, and then grabbed her shoulders. He tried to straighten her, so he could see her. No longer constrained, her arms slipped around him and clutched him tightly, fingers digging painfully into his back. He felt something wet soaking through his shirt where her head pressed against him.
He closed his eyes, reigning in his breathing, trying to stay calm.
Cupping her face with his hands, he pushed with the full force of his arms, elbows planted firmly on her collar bones. Slowly, achingly, he pushed her body back, using his grip to straighten her head. Her hands clawed at him, eventually sliding apart until she could only manage to grip him at his sides. Head finally level with his own, she stared right through him, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Her breathing was ragged and shallow.
He pleaded to her, not even sure she’d be able to hear his words through the Silence. “Please, Rhetaiya, fight it, whatever it is. I need you to help me stop it. I need you to help me figure out what’s happening. Please.” The words seemed to be having no effect, and his hope dwindled. Then he noticed the tension in her fingers slowly ease away. Not even sure that it actually meant anything, he spoke again. “Yes, that’s right. Come back to me. You need come back. Don’t give into the terror.” He heaved a sigh of relief as her breathing began to even, and her eyes no longer seemed as distant, though they remained without focus. Her arms slid from his back and gripped the front of his shirt, as if actually recognizing his presence for the first time.
Glancing warily at the dark forest beyond them, Revyll swallowed his nerves and pushed on. “Listen to my voice,” he said firmly, “I’m right here with you. Just follow me back.” The fire spit and cracked behind him. Rhetaiya grasped and looked into his eyes for the first time. Her hands fell into her lap, the frantic strength leaving her limbs. She sagged back, falling from his grip, and he released her. The wind whistled shrilly overhead.
“Are you all right?” he asked tiredly, the struggle having sapped his own measure of strength. “What happened? What was all that?”
Looking downward, she shook her head wearily. “I don’t know. It was… horrible. I’ve never felt such a thing before.” She pulled a hand up and wiped a tear from her cheek, then looked up into his eyes, still visibly shaken. “Revyll,” she started. Her eyes closed again, new tears springing forth. “Thank you,” she whispered.
The Current Pulls
The shock of fear wrenched her abruptly from sleep. Gasping a sharp breath, Rhetaiya struggled to get her bearings, the light of early dawn but a hazy glow in her vision. She felt dreadful. While the terror that still coursed through her had grown almost – distant, it also somehow seemed more resoundingly powerful. She massaged her temples and tried to focus her thoughts, glancing about the campsite.
The glowing embers, persisting even until she had drifted fitfully to sleep, had finally gone out. The remaining ash clung to its former shape, a final defiance of death. The trees stood just as they had before night cloaked them from vision. There was no change or sign of any kind to explain what was causing her awful feeling – aside from the complete lack of living sound. As Revyll had pointed out, shortly after she had returned to her senses, there was no birdsong. There was no chatter of wildlife. Only the rustling leaves attempted to mask the eerie void.
Revyll was gone, but his bags were still sitting by his bedroll, set out just as she’d laid it the previous day. Common sense told her that he would be back, but for some reason she felt a stitch of worry that he would not. She frowned. It was only the terror nagging at her mind, of course.
She lifted a hand to brush a sudden tickle on her cheek. It was wet. She looked down at her fingertips and the strangely foreign sheen of water that covered them. It took her a good minute to realize it was a tear. Soon she figured out that it was her own, and that they were beginning to flow freely from her eyes. Almost in a panic, she swept her face and tried to blink them away. She didn’t want him to see her this way, not again. It didn’t work. When it was painfully clear that she could not stop the flow, she let her arms fall in defeat.
Calming herself as best she could, she started to wonder about the cause of her tears. Was it the terror aching in her bones or the dreadful emptiness that seemed to cling in the air about her? A strange and thorough loneliness pervaded her thoughts. Perhaps, with everything piling up, it was the sheer totality of it all. She hugged her arms about her body and let the slow tears flow for a while. In time her muscles relaxed and she felt some small portion of that weight slipping away. Wiping her face once more, she rose to her feet and glanced at the small campsite.
She wanted to feel useful, so, with little else to do, she rolled up her bedding and set it next to her pack. With the work helping to take her mind from dark thoughts, she started upon Revyll’s bedding as quickly as she finished her own. She had just about tied the last strap when the sound of approaching footsteps met her ears. Pulling the last cord tight, she set it back on the ground and waited for the man to appear.
His eyes found her quickly as he emerged from the trees. The carcass of a rabbit swung from his left arm. The very sight of it brought her joy, because it meant that there was still life out in the forest around her. As he drew near and studied her face, concern filled his eyes. This puzzled her until she remembered the tears rolling down her cheeks.
He glanced down at the folded bedrolls and gave a nearly imperceptible nod before turning to the ashes of the fire and setting down his kill. She latched on to her small bit of hope. “So there is still wildlife out there.” It was more of a question than a statement. She expected an answer, but one was not forthcoming. He threw the last bit of wood on the fire, vanquishing the steadfast ashes. She could tell by the way he carried himself that there were similar doubts and fears in his mind. She wished it didn’t make her mood even darker.
As he stooped to strike a new flame, he finally spoke. “I’m surprised I found this rabbit.” He froze once the words were out and heaved a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. That’s not what you wanted to hear.” He turned to look at her again, studying her tears. “Is it your – feeling? Has it gotten worse?”
She looked away from him, wishing she could hide the tears from his eyes. “No, not exactly. Not worse. It has changed a little, though.”
He grunted in acknowledgement and let the topic drop.
As much as she didn’t want to think about it, it was the only thing on her mind. “Did you see anything out there? Anything to explain all this…”
Uncertainty crossed his face at the question. “I’d thought about it a bit, and the only thing I could come up was that something had scared the wildlife into hiding. Perhaps foul weather to come, or a passing army. There is no sign of that though, and I guess it doesn’t really fit what I – heard last night.”
Rhetaiya could only agree with that conclusion. She could think of nobody that who would attack Tristiff, and, even if there were, this was a poor area to deploy an army. She had sensed no gathering storm. “What could it have been, then?”
He studied her with considering eyes. “You remember the silence last night?”
“Last night? You mean like now, right? The forest seems more silent then I can ever remember it. There is nothing seemingly… living.” She thought it an odd question.
“No, I don’t mean like now. It happened while you were... you know.” He let out a heavy sigh. “There was a short while when it was more than just quiet. It was so quiet that it was almost suffocating. There was no sound at all.” He paused and looked up into the trees, a strange expression cast upon his face. “I’ve been around. I’ve been to places where life hardly exists, where the whistling of the wind is broken only by the rare cry of a lost bird. It is the silence of the earth, peaceful, tranquil. Then there is nature, a noisy silence, always moving, always growing, but melded with the earth – coexisting. There is even the human silence of cities, when most are long asleep, unnatural but fitting.” He looked back at her, his eyes hard. “The silence I heard last night was altogether different. It broke nature, covered up earth. I will admit that I was too tired to dwell on it once you had recovered, but it returns to me now.”
Rhetaiya could hardly believe what she was hearing. He’d even mentioned something of himself, however vague it may have been. “There was something else,” he continued, “during my hunt today. I couldn’t find anything; no signs of life at all. I wasn’t expecting this rabbit to jump out. It wasn’t simply fear of me putting energy behind it. It was already terrified. At best, my presence mere drove it out, pushed it past the limits of its fear.”
His words carried bleak portent, but they didn’t really answer the question. Something terrible had happened, and she felt it in her bones. This strange, deep Silence Revyll spoke of sounded closer to what she wanted to know, but for now it was little beyond a hint, something only to worry about.
Revyll turned back to the rabbit, nearly done by the look of it. Removing it from the heat, he snuffed out the fire with a bit of dirt. He sliced off most of the meat and set it on two sticks he’d hardened in the fire. He cut thin slices of what remained and set them above the now-heated dirt. Finally he came over and handed her one of the sticks. “It’s no banquet, but it’ll fill our stomachs,” he said solemnly.
She accepted the meal gratefully. Though she hadn’t been heeding the desire, she was hungry. She gingerly took a bite, and was surprised to find the meat nicely warm. The food last night had satisfied her, even though it had ultimately gone unfinished, but Khi’tan had perhaps made it less enjoyable. The fresh meat, plain as it was, lifted her spirits and even helped her forget some of the terror coursing through her body.
“Revyll,” she began, “I know we only brushed the topic yesterday, and it seems as good a time as any – to explain to each other why we’re here.” He looked a bit taken aback, if only momentarily. He simmered on this, focusing intently on nothing in particular. Since a response didn’t seem forthcoming, she spoke again. “I’ll speak first, if you need time to consider.”
“No,” he answered quickly. “I just find it – hard to clarify.” Letting loose a sigh, he waved his hand dismissively and looked up. “You might as well start.”
She nodded and began somewhat pensively. “This’ll require some explanation. I can’t just tell you straight out because you wouldn’t understand. You remember when I asked about the Shii?” He nodded that he did. “Well, the Shii are a group of women with a unique ability. Because it is rare, they test as many young girls as they can, hoping to find more to keep the order alive in future generations. I was one such girl.” She smiled in remembrance of the day. “It was somewhat of an event, in my case.”
“Why is that?” Revyll wondered. “And why women?”
She took a deep breath. There was so much he didn’t know; she couldn’t remember to tell him every little detail. “Well, it’s not something we really discuss, but as I remember, they searched the boys long ago, when the ability was first discovered. After years and years, they never found a single boy or man that call upon Khi’tan. I think they just stopped looking. As for me, well, I’m the second in my family to have the ability.”
His brow furrowed in wonder. “The second in your family? So people were surprised that two in the same family had this ability?”
“Well, perhaps, but it’s not like the last in my family was recent. It was a long time ago. More to the point, it’s because I’m a Ji’dani, not because I’m the second.” He’d obviously forgotten or dismissed what that meant, since he hadn’t believed her before. His reply was a blank stare. “The ruling family.”
“Oh,” he said with cringing recollection. The lack of remark hopefully meant that he no longer doubted her, but it was far from a concrete sign.
“To get back to the point, it’s my ability that brings me out here. I’m still very new to it. We must first master a technique that underlies everything we are able to do. It is Khi’tan. Such a simple description hardly conveys the truth of it, but it’s easiest to think of as meditation. You saw me under its effects last night.
“The forest is where most of us go when we’re learning this. It’s devoid of human distraction, and such distraction can be very hindering at first. I have no real limit where I may go to train, but having the city nearby is just as helpful in its own right.”
The pause before his response was considerably long. “So you can do this Khi’tan. Does that mean you’re ready?”
She smiled at the remark, wishing it were the truth. “No, I’m afraid not. It’s not simply that I can do it, but how quickly I can do it. I’m nowhere near ready.”
He nodded, appraising her with a hint of wonder in his eyes. “I appreciate the explanation, but I should really be apologizing. You were simply being cautious when we met. Some of what I said was uncalled for.” Since that brief episode, the man had more than proved his worth. Hearing those words, she desperately wanted to offer him similar sentiments.
“I suppose I’m now obligated to tell you my part of the story,” he continued. “Unfortunately, there’s not much for me to say. As you know, I don’t live around here. I wasn’t born here. Then again, neither did I live in the last town I visited nor in the small village before that nor any of the places I’ve been in a number of years. The list I could recite is years in the making. The truth is that I don’t have a home. I’ve been wandering about as long as I can remember. Don’t ask me why because I don’t know, but it’s something I simply feel compelled to do.
“I visit the places I pass, but I am never able to stay. It’s like something you want to do deep down, even though you strive not to. It just keeps wearing on your mind, driving you crazy until you can’t stand it anymore.”
Her curiosity overcame her. “Well, what about the first place on that list? You still haven’t told me where you’re from; where you were born.”
Revyll seemed somewhat grim as he mulled over the question, but some guarded part of him finally gave way and he seemed to relax. When he spoke he sounded almost relieved to get it out. “I can’t say. I don’t remember, never have. I don’t know a thing about myself.
“So, you still planning to come with me?” he asked. The question took her unprepared.
“What?”
“You know, leave camp, travel.”
“Well, I…”
“Here’s what I think,” he said firmly, “I think we would do better to stick together until we know exactly what happened last night. If we get up above these trees, maybe we can see something to help explain it all. We may even stumble upon somebody who might know.” After the words had left him, he seemed to suddenly regret them and hastily appended his speech. “If you’d rather stay closer to the city, that’s fine with me. It’s not my place to tell you what to do.”
“I said yesterday that I intended to go with you. Nothing has changed that. I have at least a week before I might be missed. By then I can send word explaining everything.” Though, she did wonder if her father would finally decide he had to send guards to protect her. It had taken some convincing for him to let her be alone, even relatively nearby as she was. “And I’m sorry too, Revyll.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry?”
“For yesterday. My actions were unnecessary. I threatened you on false assumptions, and hounded you when you clearly wanted solitude.”
Oddly enough, he appeared nervous after hearing her statement. “Your reactions were perfectly natural. All I might fault you for is being cautious and perhaps a bit inquisitive. I don’t think that’s something I can rightfully do.”
She stood up and teasingly shook a finger at him. “In that case we’re both innocent. You did nothing wrong, I believe that now.” Not caring to debate the point, she gave her limbs the stretch they yearned for and returned to her belongings. She busied herself attaching her small bag to the thin leather belt around her waist. She called over her shoulder to Revyll. “I assume we’ll be leaving soon.”
“Yes,” he said simply, exasperation barely masked in his tone.
It didn’t take long for her to prepare, the bulkiest of her items being the thin sheets that served as her bedding. Tied lightly to her back, they were easily carried. Soon she was waiting for her newfound companion. He had a lot of equipment, and little of it seemed extraneous. It was taking him a bit longer to hoist it all upon his shoulders. Many of the things she had were luxury by comparison. The contrast just went to show how inexperienced she was at this sort of thing. It was something she wanted to rectify.
She let him continue uninterrupted and took note of how her surroundings had changed during their interaction. The sun had risen, of course. What had been the dim glow of dawn had bloomed into bright morning sunlight which spilled across the gritty soil of the forest floor. It was much cooler than it had been for a long while. She hadn’t paid much mind to it in the early light, but it was obvious now. The thick humidity did its best to hide the fact, but not enough. She thought it a pleasant change. There was still no living sound, and she cringed at the thought. Still, her mood was greatly improved. Even the terror that had so plagued her seemed to be fading, gut wrenching as it had been. The tears on her cheeks had dried up.
A pleasant smell radiated from the strips of meat hanging above the remains of the fire. While the air did not dance with the same ferocity, a few lazy waves still undulated skyward and twisted the bodies of the trees standing beyond. As if on cue, Revyll stepped up and took the dried strips from their resting places. After placing them carefully in a bag, he turned and appraised her. “You seem to be ready.” He looked down at her body and seemed to contemplate something. Her cheeks went flush at the pointed look, until he continued, “I know you probably chose that dress for this trip of yours, but I don’t think it’s the best choice for a long journey. Exactly how far are you planning on going with me? I can’t even say for sure where I’m going to end up in a week’s time.”
She was embarrassed by what she’d thought of his glance. “Well, I don’t know,” she admitted. “Until I can truly command Khi’tan, when I can call it at whim,I’m allowed to do much as I wish. That could take months – even years of practice beyond what I have already done.” She avoided mentioning that her family might not like the idea. Such silly whims were most improper for a royal heir. “When we reach town or city, I’ll try to figure that out.” She smiled wistfully. “Perhaps I’ll buy myself something more suited to travelling.”
He nodded. “That’ll work, I suppose. We should get going. It’ll be most of the day before we can get above the tree line.”
“Lead on,” she said with a forward push of her body.
Wasting no time, Revyll threw his large pack across his back and led them out of camp. Not a word passed between them for a long while. It gave her time to reflect on all she had experienced since meeting the man. His attitude towards her had shifted a number of times, she recalled. Eventually he’d warmed up to her, fortunately enough. She wasn’t sure exactly when it had happened, but she was thankful it had. Yet, something had changed subtly after she had told him of Khi’tan and the Shii. While he was trying to be friendly, he seemed uncomfortable. She supposed it was a lot to take in.
It was soon obvious that the further they walked, the weaker the fear was within her. She wasn’t sure whether it was distance, time, or a combination of both, but she was elated to feel the heavy, oppressive blanket slipping from her shoulders. At the same time, she couldn’t help but wonder what it meant.
Was the cause gone, no longer to worry them, or was it simply too distant to feel? It was futile to dwell on something so completely unknown. The mystery was the worst part. She thought that certainly, to recognize the cause must be better.
The trees slowly changed as they walked, beginning to thin in numbers. Shafts of sunlight soon began to spill through the canopy, dappling the forest floor in their warm glow. It was good to sense the sun’s familiar presence on her skin. It wasn’t for the heat, of course. There was always a slightly pleasing sensation to sunlight after being away from it for a time. Nature was obviously enjoying it as well. The trees limbs grew closer to the forest floor, soaking all of the light they possibly could. The smaller shrubs and bushes now grew with a more frequency as well.
As the trees thinned and, though there were greater numbers of other flora, the soil steadily grew rockier. The land had also begun to rise. While the roads ascended more gradually, out in the wilderness it was a much more abrupt change. With all these alterations compounded together it made traveling much more difficult. A false step would cause a slip onto potentially sharp rock. The increasingly dense ground vegetation caught and scratched at her legs and arms.
While Rhetaiya knew the general lay land, she was still only vaguely aware of where she was. She found herself struggling to match Revyll’s pace. Revyll, by contrast, seemed quite sure of himself. Was he just so accustomed to traveling that he could find his way, wherever he was? In some aspects, he astounded her. On the other hand, his stubbornness concerning certain topics was a bit wearing. She wanted to know more about the man, but it was clear she shouldn’t prod too hard.
It seemed they were moving faster than he had speculated. The trees were thinning at a drastic rate. They couldn’t have traveled more than a few hours, but it wouldn’t be long before they were out of the forest altogether. Revyll seemed invigorated by this fact as he began to press up the ever-growing incline. The steep, jagged ascent was much more grueling, even when the brush started to thin as well. Rhetaiya soon began to lag behind his pace. The hill was steep enough that she feared a mistake would send her tumbling back down the craggy slope. Revyll went up as if it were all but flat, each step as sure as the next.
As sweat began to run down her body from the exertion, anger welled up within her. She was mad at him for going so fast and at herself for struggling. At the very least, he didn’t have to make it look so easy. She tried emulating his path, but with him as far ahead as he was it was difficult to remember every step he took and every support he used during the ascent. Still, she fought her way up.
When she looked up and suddenly noticed how close the top of the ridge lay, a new sense of purpose filled her. Her goal was in sight. It was then she realized what she was doing. Every step forward was a step into the relative unknown. While she knew of the surrounding land through many maps and stories, she had never been this far from home. She would soon be seeing things she had never seen before, with her own eyes.
While it could not have been more than another half hour, the remainder of the grueling trek seemed to take an eternity. When Revyll disappeared over the ridge ahead of her, the panic of losing him brought the time rushing back. Muscles burning, she pulled closed the distance. As the ground became flat once again she caught sight of Revyll sitting quietly on the barren rock and gazing out into the distance.
Soon she strode up, breathing heavily, and collapsed upon her calves. She’d been afraid he’d go on without her, but she should have known better. Her eyes widened at the grand vista before her. She knew that flatlands stretched for miles beyond the forests of Tristiff, but she could never really envision it. Not like this. It was so open, so big. The rolling swells of grass seemed to run on forever. Even the sky seemed all the more vast. The light, wispy clouds were lost amongst the immense blue.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
Revyll looked at her quizzically. “Most everywhere seems that way the first time you see it, but the plains have as many hardships as the forest.”
She pursed her lips. “Don’t ruin it.” With only a slight grin he turned his view back to the seas of yellow-red grass.
Though the sun shone brightly upon them, it was surprisingly cool. A whipping wind, though not terribly strong, cut through her clothes and worked to turn her sweat to ice. To Rhetaiya, it was a strange mix. She clasped her arms together to cut the chill and couldn’t contain the question. “Why is it so cold with the sun shining right on us?”
The man actually chuckled. Glancing up at the bright ball, he spoke softly. “The higher you get, the colder the air becomes. It seems backwards, but it’s the truth. Some mountains climb so high their peaks are eternally covered in snow. Such peaks make this seem like an anthill.” He was silent for only a few moments.
“You know, I just can’t get my head around you. At first you seem to hate everything about me even though you follow me around. I think you some kind of strange thief. Somehow I start to like you, and now you have me believing you’re a princess and that you have some sort of strange ability I know nothing about. What would a princess apologize for?” She let out a strangled laugh, realizing his sincerity but finding it funny just the same. He glowered at her.
She stifled her mirth, but smiled at his unexpected comments. “My title doesn’t change who I am. I can recognize when I’m wrong.” It was obvious that this was affecting him more than he had let on. She had seen this kind of thing before. It heated her words. “I’m starting to regret our talk. Would you prefer I was a thief? Don’t be scared of me because of my name, Revyll, or my ability.”
He ran a hand through his hair and got a bit red in the face. “You’re right, of course. It’s just, you hear stories about kings and royalty. I just know so little about you. I’m used to figuring people out pretty quickly, but I don’t know anything about this.”
She heaved a sigh. It had been a pleasant change dealing with someone who didn’t see her through that lens of succession. His words had been less guarded, more honest. At the same time, his basic sentiment fit her view of him. He even exceeded those words. He seemed to be going somewhere, but in reality he wasn’t going anywhere. He knew his way around, but he didn’t even know where he was from. His actions seemed precise, but what was he really trying to do? He was kind but remote; stubborn but understanding. His sense of humor was odd, but he had a keen mind. At times he seemed rash and at times surprisingly wise. It seemed all she knew about him was his name.
And his words made her think. Why exactly had she started following him? What about him so attracted her? She didn’t want to think she’d follow any strange man that stumbled upon her. She sat quietly beside him, neither of the two sure what to tell the other.
It had been a few hours past midday when they arrived and the sun was slowly working its way down the sky. Revyll stood and said, “Its past time we should be going. We should at least try to get down to the plains before nightfall.” To her surprise, he extended an arm and helped her to her feet. She gave him a slight smile and said, “Thank you, and, please, let me say goodbye to Tristiff before we leave.” He seemed surprised by her request, but nodded. Taking a few steps toward the open grassland, he stared out in silence, giving her some privacy.
Whisking back a stray strand of hair, Rhetaiya turned to look down the large, forested valley, scanning for signs of her home, which would still be visible in the distance. What she saw next caused her jaw to drop. A huge pillar of smoke rose from the spot where the city should lay. Bright yellow and red specks of light penetrated the dark plume. Her home was burning. It made all too much sense now. The further she walked, the more the dread had eased. She’d been walking away from the source of it. The whole time they’d been sitting here together, this sight lay behind them. Oh, why hadn’t she looked sooner!
***
Revyll heard a sob from behind him. He was about to ignore it when the strangeness of it struck him. He turned to find her falling to the ground, staring out at the forest. Her vigor seemed entirely drained, her hands clasped over her mouth. He could hardly believe what he was seeing. He followed her gaze down the sloping mountainside and over the forest. When his eyes found the smoke, it all became clear.
Calling her name in concern, he took a step towards her piteous form. Without warning, she sprang to her feet and started to run. Her sudden flight startled him so much that he found himself just standing and watching her headlong rush down the mountain. He had trouble grasping the fact that the place he’d so recently visited was the site of such destruction. Wits returning to him in a worried rush, and cursing quietly under his breath, he went after her.
Such a powerful need had grabbed her that the slender woman now ran down the slope almost oblivious to the danger. With her struggle to get up the hill she didn’t appear to be slowing much on the way down. He half expected her to stumble and fall at any moment, sending her headlong down the mountain. Provided she somehow made it down in one piece, he realized he’d lose her when she vanished into the forest. He just couldn’t cover the distance his hesitation had cost him, not in time. He wasn’t even sure he was gaining ground against her frantic rush. It was troubling trying to keep track of her while not getting himself hurt in the process. No matter how long it took, he had to catch her. Whatever had burned the city like that was sure not to take kindly if they ran right in. He had to make her see sense.
She was certainly not being careful. He spotted bits of torn cloth caught on sharp rocks and branches as he entered the shrubby area at the fringes of the forest. The hard soil infuriated him. It made her tracks difficult to find, and her pace had barely slowed. If he didn’t catch her before nightfall, he had serious doubts that he could stay on her trail. Obviously they were headed to Tristiff, but if he ran straight there he doubted he’d find her. They could barely be expected to follow the same exact route through the wilderness. Besides, they’d probably both collapse of exhaustion long before then. He yelled her name on the sliver of a chance that it would stop her, he was desperate. He wouldn’t leave her, not like this.
His head spun over what had just taken place. It explained some of the recent events, but threw more questions as well. If the animals had vanished so completely merely because an army had passed through, why were they still alive to talk about it? If an army passed through, where were the signs? There were none. What was the Silence? What had attacked Tristiff? When he realized the questions were beginning to flood his mind, he pushed them back. His concentration could not slip.
While Rhetaiya had the uncanny knack of befuddling him, he was not one to forget someone in trouble. He had seen numerous accidents in the wilds and never abandoned someone when there was a chance he could help, yet nothing had come close to what was happening now. Rhetaiya seemed to have a cool head, most of the time, but it was not the same woman that had run off up on the hill. While the concept of home was not easy for him to grasp, he understood how others usually felt about it, and she had just seen her home devastated.
It became apparent that he was not going to catch her in time, and he knew the breakneck pace would only exhaust him before he had a chance to help. He decided to slow his pace and focus on tracking her movements. She would have to slow down eventually, whether by exhaustion or need. He could only hope that when he found her it wouldn’t be too late.
Soon his breathing was heavy. His energy reserves were slipping, and he still hadn’t caught her. He could tell her steps had run ragged and uneven, but that was not nearly enough. He tried to remain optimistic. Though her frenetic endurance was impressive, three days’ walk through a forest was not quickly traversed at any speed. He just had to keep going until he found her. He couldn’t allow himself to stop. She might come to her senses, but she might also blindly push on. He grimaced at the thought. This woman might be the death of him.
His steps grew wearier and wearier as the day drew on. Back under the shadow of the surrounding hills, daylight was beginning to fade. His sweat felt like ice on his skin, and worry ached within him. He started to fear that he would not be able to go on. He was nearing his limit. He might not find her.
A sob pierced the quiet night.
Panting with final effort, he ran towards the noise and found her sprawled on the ground, lying on her side. Falling down to his knees, he grabbed her shoulder. Her body was burning with exertion.
“Rhetaiya, listen to me,” he said between breaths. Her hazel eyes looked into his, her expression vacant, tears running down her face. He shook his head. “Rhetaiya, listen to me. You’ve got to stop. Even if it is your home-”
She shook her head frantically and struggled weakly against his grip. “No! Let me go!” He wasn’t really holding her down, though he would if he had to. She was too exhausted to move much. Eventually she let herself sink heavily against the ground. “They could be dead,” she sobbed, “and I’m too weak to even help.”
“So you want to die too?” he chided. “This was all done in a single night. How are you going to fight something of that ferocity? You’re going to run in blindly?”
She turned her head away, a deep frown upon her face. “I could have helped. I could have done something,” she whispered almost inaudibly. “This didn’t have to happen.” Her voice grew in ferocity. “I should have known!” She curled up and shielded her face.
Revyll shifted off his knees and sat next to her, running a hand through his hair. “How? How could you?” he said angrily. “Come to your senses! This caught us both by surprise. Why are you letting yourself fall apart?”
His last words seemed to affect her, somehow. She had been shuddering with grief but stilled herself considerably. Aside from her rhythmic breathing, only an errant sob shook her body. Revyll could feel energy returning to his limbs as the minutes passed. Even so, he knew he’d be sore before long. Rhetaiya would be worse off than him.
Rhetaiya finally took her hands from her head and struggled over onto her back. Now that he could see her face, it was even more evident the degree at which she’d changed. Her face showed nothing of her previous agony. It hardly showed anything at all. Khi’tan. Her eyes, though still tear stained, showed that she was thinking once again. A weary sigh escaped her lips. “I’ve been rather foolish,” she said. Her eyes focused on him. “I don’t suppose you could help me over there?” She motioned towards a nearby tree with her head.
He nodded solemnly. As he rose wearily to his feet, he said, “I’m not in top shape, myself, but I think I can manage that.” He extended an arm, helping her unsteadily to her feet. His own legs still burning, he supported her shakily to the trunk. After she was settled, he set himself down nearby.
“Why are you still here?” she asked, exhaustion prevalent. “This is not your problem. It is not your home.”
“Well it’s my problem now,” he answered stonily. “If I were to walk away from this, I would hate myself for the rest of my days.”
She turned her head to look at him then nodded. “You’re as good a person as I could ever hope to meet, Revyll.” She closed her eyes. “If it weren’t for you, I’d have been lost twice.”
He blushed at her words in the dimming light. She really was something. She’d been half crazed only to come completely back to her senses in the space of a few seconds. He’d never seen the like. “Rhetaiya?” he asked softly. When she didn’t answer, he cocked his head to look at her. Her breathing was soft and slow. She really had been exhausted. “Sleep well,” he whispered into the night.
The Current Pulls
The shock of fear wrenched her abruptly from sleep. Gasping a sharp breath, Rhetaiya struggled to get her bearings, the light of early dawn but a hazy glow in her vision. She felt dreadful. While the terror that still coursed through her had grown almost – distant, it also somehow seemed more resoundingly powerful. She massaged her temples and tried to focus her thoughts, glancing about the campsite.
The glowing embers, persisting even until she had drifted fitfully to sleep, had finally gone out. The remaining ash clung to its former shape, a final defiance of death. The trees stood just as they had before night cloaked them from vision. There was no change or sign of any kind to explain what was causing her awful feeling – aside from the complete lack of living sound. As Revyll had pointed out, shortly after she had returned to her senses, there was no birdsong. There was no chatter of wildlife. Only the rustling leaves attempted to mask the eerie void.
Revyll was gone, but his bags were still sitting by his bedroll, set out just as she’d laid it the previous day. Common sense told her that he would be back, but for some reason she felt a stitch of worry that he would not. She frowned. It was only the terror nagging at her mind, of course.
She lifted a hand to brush a sudden tickle on her cheek. It was wet. She looked down at her fingertips and the strangely foreign sheen of water that covered them. It took her a good minute to realize it was a tear. Soon she figured out that it was her own, and that they were beginning to flow freely from her eyes. Almost in a panic, she swept her face and tried to blink them away. She didn’t want him to see her this way, not again. It didn’t work. When it was painfully clear that she could not stop the flow, she let her arms fall in defeat.
Calming herself as best she could, she started to wonder about the cause of her tears. Was it the terror aching in her bones or the dreadful emptiness that seemed to cling in the air about her? A strange and thorough loneliness pervaded her thoughts. Perhaps, with everything piling up, it was the sheer totality of it all. She hugged her arms about her body and let the slow tears flow for a while. In time her muscles relaxed and she felt some small portion of that weight slipping away. Wiping her face once more, she rose to her feet and glanced at the small campsite.
She wanted to feel useful, so, with little else to do, she rolled up her bedding and set it next to her pack. With the work helping to take her mind from dark thoughts, she started upon Revyll’s bedding as quickly as she finished her own. She had just about tied the last strap when the sound of approaching footsteps met her ears. Pulling the last cord tight, she set it back on the ground and waited for the man to appear.
His eyes found her quickly as he emerged from the trees. The carcass of a rabbit swung from his left arm. The very sight of it brought her joy, because it meant that there was still life out in the forest around her. As he drew near and studied her face, concern filled his eyes. This puzzled her until she remembered the tears rolling down her cheeks.
He glanced down at the folded bedrolls and gave a nearly imperceptible nod before turning to the ashes of the fire and setting down his kill. She latched on to her small bit of hope. “So there is still wildlife out there.” It was more of a question than a statement. She expected an answer, but one was not forthcoming. He threw the last bit of wood on the fire, vanquishing the steadfast ashes. She could tell by the way he carried himself that there were similar doubts and fears in his mind. She wished it didn’t make her mood even darker.
As he stooped to strike a new flame, he finally spoke. “I’m surprised I found this rabbit.” He froze once the words were out and heaved a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. That’s not what you wanted to hear.” He turned to look at her again, studying her tears. “Is it your – feeling? Has it gotten worse?”
She looked away from him, wishing she could hide the tears from his eyes. “No, not exactly. Not worse. It has changed a little, though.”
He grunted in acknowledgement and let the topic drop.
As much as she didn’t want to think about it, it was the only thing on her mind. “Did you see anything out there? Anything to explain all this…”
Uncertainty crossed his face at the question. “I’d thought about it a bit, and the only thing I could come up was that something had scared the wildlife into hiding. Perhaps foul weather to come, or a passing army. There is no sign of that though, and I guess it doesn’t really fit what I – heard last night.”
Rhetaiya could only agree with that conclusion. She could think of nobody that who would attack Tristiff, and, even if there were, this was a poor area to deploy an army. She had sensed no gathering storm. “What could it have been, then?”
He studied her with considering eyes. “You remember the silence last night?”
“Last night? You mean like now, right? The forest seems more silent then I can ever remember it. Tnere is nothing seemingly… living.” She thought it an odd question.
“No, I don’t mean like now. It happened while you were... you know.” He let out a heavy sigh. “There was a short while when it was more than just quiet. It was so quiet that it was almost suffocating. There was no sound at all.” He paused and looked up into the trees, a strange expression cast upon his face. “I’ve been around. I’ve been to places where life hardly exists, where the whistling of the wind is broken only by the rare cry of a lost bird. It is the silence of the earth, peaceful, tranquil. Then there is nature, a noisy silence, always moving, always growing, but melded with the earth – coexisting. There is even the human silence of cities, when most are long asleep, unnatural but fitting.” He looked back at her, his eyes hard. “The silence I heard last night was altogether different. It broke nature, covered up earth. I will admit that I was too tired to dwell on it once you had recovered, but it returns to me now.”
Rhetaiya could hardly believe what she was hearing. He’d even mentioned something of himself, however vague it may have been. “There was something else,” he continued, “during my hunt today. I couldn’t find anything; no signs of life at all. I wasn’t expecting this rabbit to jump out. It wasn’t simply fear of me putting energy behind it. It was already terrified. At best, my presence mere drove it out, pushed it past the limits of its fear.”
His words carried bleak portent, but they didn’t really answer the question. Something terrible had happened, and she felt it in her bones. This strange, deep Silence Revyll spoke of sounded closer to what she wanted to know, but for now it was little beyond a hint, something only to worry about.
Revyll turned back to the rabbit, nearly done by the look of it. Removing it from the heat, he snuffed out the fire with a bit of dirt. He sliced off most of the meat and set it on two sticks he’d hardened in the fire. He cut thin slices of what remained and set them above the now-heated dirt. Finally he came over and handed her one of the sticks. “It’s no banquet, but it’ll fill our stomachs,” he said solemnly.
She accepted the meal gratefully. Though she hadn’t been heeding the desire, she was hungry. She gingerly took a bite, and was surprised to find the meat nicely warm. The food last night had satisfied her, even though it had ultimately gone unfinished, but Khi’tan had perhaps made it less enjoyable. The fresh meat, plain as it was, lifted her spirits and even helped her forget some of the terror coursing through her body.
“Revyll,” she began, “I know we only brushed the topic yesterday, and it seems as good a time as any – to explain to each other why we’re here.” He looked a bit taken aback, if only momentarily. He simmered on this, focusing intently on nothing in particular. Since a response didn’t seem forthcoming, she spoke again. “I’ll speak first, if you need time to consider.”
“No,” he answered quickly. “I just find it – hard to clarify.” Letting loose a sigh, he waved his hand dismissively and looked up. “You might as well start.”
She nodded and began somewhat pensively. “This’ll require some explanation. I can’t just tell you straight out because you wouldn’t understand. You remember when I asked about the Shii?” He nodded that he did. “Well, the Shii are a group of women with a unique ability. Because it is rare, they test as many young girls as they can, hoping to find more to keep the order alive in future generations. I was one such girl.” She smiled in remembrance of the day. “It was somewhat of an event, in my case.”
“Why is that?” Revyll wondered. “And why women?”
She took a deep breath. There was so much he didn’t know; she couldn’t remember to tell him every little detail. “Well, it’s not something we really discuss, but as I remember, they searched the boys long ago, when the ability was first discovered. After years and years, they never found a single boy or man that call upon Khi’tan. I think they just stopped looking. As for me, well, I’m the second in my family to have the ability.”
His brow furrowed in wonder. “The second in your family? So people were surprised that two in the same family had this ability?”
“Well, perhaps, but it’s not like the last in my family was recent. It was a long time ago. More to the point, it’s because I’m a Ji’dani, not because I’m the second.” He’d obviously forgotten or dismissed what that meant, since he hadn’t believed her before. His reply was a blank stare. “The ruling family.”
“Oh,” he said with cringing recollection. The lack of remark hopefully meant that he no longer doubted her, but it was far from a concrete sign.
“To get back to the point, it’s my ability that brings me out here. I’m still very new to it. We must first master a technique that underlies everything we are able to do. It is Khi’tan. Such a simple description hardly conveys the truth of it, but it’s easiest to think of as meditation. You saw me under its effects last night.
“The forest is where most of us go when we’re learning this. It’s devoid of human distraction, and such distraction can be very hindering at first. I have no real limit where I may go to train, but having the city nearby is just as helpful in its own right.”
The pause before his response was considerably long. “So you can do this Khi’tan. Does that mean you’re ready?”
She smiled at the remark, wishing it were the truth. “No, I’m afraid not. It’s not simply that I can do it, but how quickly I can do it. I’m nowhere near ready.”
He nodded, appraising her with a hint of wonder in his eyes. “I appreciate the explanation, but I should really be apologizing. You were simply being cautious when we met. Some of what I said was uncalled for.” Since that brief episode, the man had more than proved his worth. Hearing those words, she desperately wanted to offer him similar sentiments.
“I suppose I’m now obligated to tell you my part of the story,” he continued. “Unfortunately, there’s not much for me to say. As you know, I don’t live around here. I wasn’t born here. Then again, neither did I live in the last town I visited nor in the small village before that nor any of the places I’ve been in a number of years. The list I could recite is years in the making. The truth is that I don’t have a home. I’ve been wandering about as long as I can remember. Don’t ask me why because I don’t know, but it’s something I simply feel compelled to do.
“I visit the places I pass, but I am never able to stay. It’s like something you want to do deep down, even though you strive not to. It just keeps wearing on your mind, driving you crazy until you can’t stand it anymore.”
Her curiosity overcame her. “Well, what about the first place on that list? You still haven’t told me where you’re from; where you were born.”
Revyll seemed somewhat grim as he mulled over the question, but some guarded part of him finally gave way and he seemed to relax. When he spoke he sounded almost relieved to get it out. “I can’t say. I don’t remember, never have. I don’t know a thing about myself.
“So, you still planning to come with me?” he asked. The question took her unprepared.
“What?”
“You know, leave camp, travel.”
“Well, I…”
“Here’s what I think,” he said firmly, “I think we would do better to stick together until we know exactly what happened last night. If we get up above these trees, maybe we can see something to help explain it all. We may even stumble upon somebody who might know.” After the words had left him, he seemed to suddenly regret them and hastily appended his speech. “If you’d rather stay closer to the city, that’s fine with me. It’s not my place to tell you what to do.”
“I said yesterday that I intended to go with you. Nothing has changed that. I have at least a week before I might be missed. By then I can send word explaining everything.” Though, she did wonder if her father would finally decide he had to send guards to protect her. It had taken some convincing for him to let her be alone, even relatively nearby as she was. “And I’m sorry too, Revyll.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry?”
“For yesterday. My actions were unnecessary. I threatened you on false assumptions, and hounded you when you clearly wanted solitude.”
Oddly enough, he appeared nervous after hearing her statement. “Your reactions were perfectly natural. All I might fault you for is being cautious and perhaps a bit inquisitive. I don’t think that’s something I can rightfully do.”
She stood up and teasingly shook a finger at him. “In that case we’re both innocent. You did nothing wrong, I believe that now.” Not caring to debate the point, she gave her limbs the stretch they yearned for and returned to her belongings. She busied herself attaching her small bag to the thin leather belt around her waist. She called over her shoulder to Revyll. “I assume we’ll be leaving soon.”
“Yes,” he said simply, exasperation barely masked in his tone.
It didn’t take long for her to prepare, the bulkiest of her items being the thin sheets that served as her bedding. Tied lightly to her back, they were easily carried. Soon she was waiting for her newfound companion. He had a lot of equipment, and little of it seemed extraneous. It was taking him a bit longer to hoist it all upon his shoulders. Many of the things she had were luxury by comparison. The contrast just went to show how inexperienced she was at this sort of thing. It was something she wanted to rectify.
She let him continue uninterrupted and took note of how her surroundings had changed during their interaction. The sun had risen, of course. What had been the dim glow of dawn had bloomed into bright morning sunlight which spilled across the gritty soil of the forest floor. It was much cooler than it had been for a long while. She hadn’t paid much mind to it in the early light, but it was obvious now. The thick humidity did its best to hide the fact, but not enough. She thought it a pleasant change. There was still no living sound, and she cringed at the thought. Still, her mood was greatly improved. Even the terror that had so plagued her seemed to be fading, gut wrenching as it had been. The tears on her cheeks had dried up.
A pleasant smell radiated from the strips of meat hanging above the remains of the fire. While the air did not dance with the same ferocity, a few lazy waves still undulated skyward and twisted the bodies of the trees standing beyond. As if on cue, Revyll stepped up and took the dried strips from their resting places. After placing them carefully in a bag, he turned and appraised her. “You seem to be ready.” He looked down at her body and seemed to contemplate something. Her cheeks went flush at the pointed look, until he continued, “I know you probably chose that dress for this trip of yours, but I don’t think it’s the best choice for a long journey. Exactly how far are you planning on going with me? I can’t even say for sure where I’m going to end up in a week’s time.”
She was embarrassed by what she’d thought of his glance. “Well, I don’t know,” she admitted. “Until I can truly command Khi’tan, when I can call it at whim,I’m allowed to do much as I wish. That could take months – even years of practice beyond what I have already done.” She avoided mentioning that her family might not like the idea. Such silly whims were most improper for a royal heir. “When we reach town or city, I’ll try to figure that out.” She smiled wistfully. “Perhaps I’ll buy myself something more suited to travelling.”
He nodded. “That’ll work, I suppose. We should get going. It’ll be most of the day before we can get above the tree line.”
“Lead on,” she said with a forward push of her body.
Wasting no time, Revyll threw his large pack across his back and led them out of camp. Not a word passed between them for a long while. It gave her time to reflect on all she had experienced since meeting the man. His attitude towards her had shifted a number of times, she recalled. Eventually he’d warmed up to her, fortunately enough. She wasn’t sure exactly when it had happened, but she was thankful it had. Yet, something had changed subtly after she had told him of Khi’tan and the Shii. While he was trying to be friendly, he seemed uncomfortable. She supposed it was a lot to take in.
It was soon obvious that the further they walked, the weaker the fear was within her. She wasn’t sure whether it was distance, time, or a combination of both, but she was elated to feel the heavy, oppressive blanket slipping from her shoulders. At the same time, she couldn’t help but wonder what it meant.
Was the cause gone, no longer to worry them, or was it simply too distant to feel? It was futile to dwell on something so completely unknown. The mystery was the worst part. She thought that certainly, to recognize the cause must be better.
The trees slowly changed as they walked, beginning to thin in numbers. Shafts of sunlight soon began to spill through the canopy, dappling the forest floor in their warm glow. It was good to sense the sun’s familiar presence on her skin. It wasn’t for the heat, of course. There was always a slightly pleasing sensation to sunlight after being away from it for a time. Nature was obviously enjoying it as well. The trees limbs grew closer to the forest floor, soaking all of the light they possibly could. The smaller shrubs and bushes now grew with a more frequency as well.
As the trees thinned and, though there were greater numbers of other flora, the soil steadily grew rockier. The land had also begun to rise. While the roads ascended more gradually, out in the wilderness it was a much more abrupt change. With all these alterations compounded together it made traveling much more difficult. A false step would cause a slip onto potentially sharp rock. The increasingly dense ground vegetation caught and scratched at her legs and arms.
While Rhetaiya knew the general lay land, she was still only vaguely aware of where she was. She found herself struggling to match Revyll’s pace. Revyll, by contrast, seemed quite sure of himself. Was he just so accustomed to traveling that he could find his way, wherever he was? In some aspects, he astounded her. On the other hand, his stubbornness concerning certain topics was a bit wearing. She wanted to know more about the man, but it was clear she shouldn’t prod too hard.
It seemed they were moving faster than he had speculated. The trees were thinning at a drastic rate. They couldn’t have traveled more than a few hours, but it wouldn’t be long before they were out of the forest altogether. Revyll seemed invigorated by this fact as he began to press up the ever-growing incline. The steep, jagged ascent was much more grueling, even when the brush started to thin as well. Rhetaiya soon began to lag behind his pace. The hill was steep enough that she feared a mistake would send her tumbling back down the craggy slope. Revyll went up as if it were all but flat, each step as sure as the next.
As sweat began to run down her body from the exertion, anger welled up within her. She was mad at him for going so fast and at herself for struggling. At the very least, he didn’t have to make it look so easy. She tried emulating his path, but with him as far ahead as he was it was difficult to remember every step he took and every support he used during the ascent. Still, she fought her way up.
When she looked up and suddenly noticed how close the top of the ridge lay, a new sense of purpose filled her. Her goal was in sight. It was then she realized what she was doing. Every step forward was a step into the relative unknown. While she knew of the surrounding land through many maps and stories, she had never been this far from home. She would soon be seeing things she had never seen before, with her own eyes.
While it could not have been more than another half hour, the remainder of the grueling trek seemed to take an eternity. When Revyll disappeared over the ridge ahead of her, the panic of losing him brought the time rushing back. Muscles burning, she pulled closed the distance. As the ground became flat once again she caught sight of Revyll sitting quietly on the barren rock and gazing out into the distance.
Soon she strode up, breathing heavily, and collapsed upon her calves. She’d been afraid he’d go on without her, but she should have known better. Her eyes widened at the grand vista before her. She knew that flatlands stretched for miles beyond the forests of Tristiff, but she could never really envision it. Not like this. It was so open, so big. The rolling swells of grass seemed to run on forever. Even the sky seemed all the more vast. The light, wispy clouds were lost amongst the immense blue.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
Revyll looked at her quizzically. “Most everywhere seems that way the first time you see it, but the plains have as many hardships as the forest.”
She pursed her lips. “Don’t ruin it.” With only a slight grin he turned his view back to the seas of yellow-red grass.
Though the sun shone brightly upon them, it was surprisingly cool. A whipping wind, though not terribly strong, cut through her clothes and worked to turn her sweat to ice. To Rhetaiya, it was a strange mix. She clasped her arms together to cut the chill and couldn’t contain the question. “Why is it so cold with the sun shining right on us?”
The man actually chuckled. Glancing up at the bright ball, he spoke softly. “The higher you get, the colder the air becomes. It seems backwards, but it’s the truth. Some mountains climb so high their peaks are eternally covered in snow. Such peaks make this seem like an anthill.” He was silent for only a few moments.
“You know, I just can’t get my head around you. At first you seem to hate everything about me even though you follow me around. I think you some kind of strange thief. Somehow I start to like you, and now you have me believing you’re a princess and that you have some sort of strange ability I know nothing about. What would a princess apologize for?” She let out a strangled laugh, realizing his sincerity but finding it funny just the same. He glowered at her.
She stifled her mirth, but smiled at his unexpected comments. “My title doesn’t change who I am. I can recognize when I’m wrong.” It was obvious that this was affecting him more than he had let on. She had seen this kind of thing before. It heated her words. “I’m starting to regret our talk. Would you prefer I was a thief? Don’t be scared of me because of my name, Revyll, or my ability.”
He ran a hand through his hair and got a bit red in the face. “You’re right, of course. It’s just, you hear stories about kings and royalty. I just know so little about you. I’m used to figuring people out pretty quickly, but I don’t know anything about this.”
She heaved a sigh. It had been a pleasant change dealing with someone who didn’t see her through that lens of succession. His words had been less guarded, more honest. At the same time, his basic sentiment fit her view of him. He even exceeded those words. He seemed to be going somewhere, but in reality he wasn’t going anywhere. He knew his way around, but he didn’t even know where he was from. His actions seemed precise, but what was he really trying to do? He was kind but remote; stubborn but understanding. His sense of humor was odd, but he had a keen mind. At times he seemed rash and at times surprisingly wise. It seemed all she knew about him was his name.
And his words made her think. Why exactly had she started following him? What about him so attracted her? She didn’t want to think she’d follow any strange man that stumbled upon her. She sat quietly beside him, neither of the two sure what to tell the other.
It had been a few hours past midday when they arrived and the sun was slowly working its way down the sky. Revyll stood and said, “Its past time we should be going. We should at least try to get down to the plains before nightfall.” To her surprise, he extended an arm and helped her to her feet. She gave him a slight smile and said, “Thank you, and, please, let me say goodbye to Tristiff before we leave.” He seemed surprised by her request, but nodded. Taking a few steps toward the open grassland, he stared out in silence, giving her some privacy.
Whisking back a stray strand of hair, Rhetaiya turned to look down the large, forested valley, scanning for signs of her home, which would still be visible in the distance. What she saw next caused her jaw to drop. A huge pillar of smoke rose from the spot where the city should lay. Bright yellow and red specks of light penetrated the dark plume. Her home was burning. It made all too much sense now. The further she walked, the more the dread had eased. She’d been walking away from the source of it. The whole time they’d been sitting here together, this sight lay behind them. Oh, why hadn’t she looked sooner!
Revyll heard a sob from behind him. He was about to ignore it when the strangeness of it struck him. He turned to find her falling to the ground, staring out at the forest. Her vigor seemed entirely drained, her hands clasped over her mouth. He could hardly believe what he was seeing. He followed her gaze down the sloping mountainside and over the forest. When his eyes found the smoke, it all became clear.
Calling her name in concern, he took a step towards her piteous form. Without warning, she sprang to her feet and started to run. Her sudden flight startled him so much that he found himself just standing and watching her headlong rush down the mountain. He had trouble grasping the fact that the place he’d so recently visited was the site of such destruction. Wits returning to him in a worried rush, and cursing quietly under his breath, he went after her.
Such a powerful need had grabbed her that the slender woman now ran down the slope almost oblivious to the danger. With her struggle to get up the hill she didn’t appear to be slowing much on the way down. He half expected her to stumble and fall at any moment, sending her headlong down the mountain. Provided she somehow made it down in one piece, he realized he’d lose her when she vanished into the forest. He just couldn’t cover the distance his hesitation had cost him, not in time. He wasn’t even sure he was gaining ground against her frantic rush. It was troubling trying to keep track of her while not getting himself hurt in the process. No matter how long it took, he had to catch her. Whatever had burned the city like that was sure not to take kindly if they ran right in. He had to make her see sense.
She was certainly not being careful. He spotted bits of torn cloth caught on sharp rocks and branches as he entered the shrubby area at the fringes of the forest. The hard soil infuriated him. It made her tracks difficult to find, and her pace had barely slowed. If he didn’t catch her before nightfall, he had serious doubts that he could stay on her trail. Obviously they were headed to Tristiff, but if he ran straight there he doubted he’d find her. They could barely be expected to follow the same exact route through the wilderness. Besides, they’d probably both collapse of exhaustion long before then. He yelled her name on the sliver of a chance that it would stop her, he was desperate. He wouldn’t leave her, not like this.
His head spun over what had just taken place. It explained some of the recent events, but threw more questions as well. If the animals had vanished so completely merely because an army had passed through, why were they still alive to talk about it? If an army passed through, where were the signs? There were none. What was the Silence? What had attacked Tristiff? When he realized the questions were beginning to flood his mind, he pushed them back. His concentration could not slip.
While Rhetaiya had the uncanny knack of befuddling him, he was not one to forget someone in trouble. He had seen numerous accidents in the wilds and never abandoned someone when there was a chance he could help, yet nothing had come close to what was happening now. Rhetaiya seemed to have a cool head, most of the time, but it was not the same woman that had run off up on the hill. While the concept of home was not easy for him to grasp, he understood how others usually felt about it, and she had just seen her home devastated.
It became apparent that he was not going to catch her in time, and he knew the breakneck pace would only exhaust him before he had a chance to help. He decided to slow his pace and focus on tracking her movements. She would have to slow down eventually, whether by exhaustion or need. He could only hope that when he found her it wouldn’t be too late.
Soon his breathing was heavy. His energy reserves were slipping, and he still hadn’t caught her. He could tell her steps had run ragged and uneven, but that was not nearly enough. He tried to remain optimistic. Though her frenetic endurance was impressive, three days’ walk through a forest was not quickly traversed at any speed. He just had to keep going until he found her. He couldn’t allow himself to stop. She might come to her senses, but she might also blindly push on. He grimaced at the thought. This woman might be the death of him.
His steps grew wearier and wearier as the day drew on. Back under the shadow of the surrounding hills, daylight was beginning to fade. His sweat felt like ice on his skin, and worry ached within him. He started to fear that he would not be able to go on. He was nearing his limit. He might not find her.
A sob pierced the quiet night.
Panting with final effort, he ran towards the noise and found her sprawled on the ground, lying on her side. Falling down to his knees, he grabbed her shoulder. Her body was burning with exertion.
“Rhetaiya, listen to me,” he said between breaths. Her hazel eyes looked into his, her expression vacant, tears running down her face. He shook his head. “Rhetaiya, listen to me. You’ve got to stop. Even if it is your home-”
She shook her head frantically and struggled weakly against his grip. “No! Let me go!” He wasn’t really holding her down, though he would if he had to. She was too exhausted to move much. Eventually she let herself sink heavily against the ground. “They could be dead,” she sobbed, “and I’m too weak to even help.”
“So you want to die too?” he chided. “This was all done in a single night. How are you going to fight something of that ferocity? You’re going to run in blindly?”
She turned her head away, a deep frown upon her face. “I could have helped. I could have done something,” she whispered almost inaudibly. “This didn’t have to happen.” Her voice grew in ferocity. “I should have known!” She curled up and shielded her face.
Revyll shifted off his knees and sat next to her, running a hand through his hair. “How? How could you?” he said angrily. “Come to your senses! This caught us both by surprise. Why are you letting yourself fall apart?”
His last words seemed to affect her, somehow. She had been shuddering with grief but stilled herself considerably. Aside from her rhythmic breathing, only an errant sob shook her body. Revyll could feel energy returning to his limbs as the minutes passed. Even so, he knew he’d be sore before long. Rhetaiya would be worse off than him.
Rhetaiya finally took her hands from her head and struggled over onto her back. Now that he could see her face, it was even more evident the degree at which she’d changed. Her face showed nothing of her previous agony. It hardly showed anything at all. Khi’tan. Her eyes, though still tear stained, showed that she was thinking once again. A weary sigh escaped her lips. “I’ve been rather foolish,” she said. Her eyes focused on him. “I don’t suppose you could help me over there?” She motioned towards a nearby tree with her head.
He nodded solemnly. As he rose wearily to his feet, he said, “I’m not in top shape, myself, but I think I can manage that.” He extended an arm, helping her unsteadily to her feet. His own legs still burning, he supported her shakily to the trunk. After she was settled, he set himself down nearby.
“Why are you still here?” she asked, exhaustion prevalent. “This is not your problem. It is not your home.”
“Well it’s my problem now,” he answered stonily. “If I were to walk away from this, I would hate myself for the rest of my days.”
She turned her head to look at him then nodded. “You’re as good a person as I could ever hope to meet, Revyll.” She closed her eyes. “If it weren’t for you, I’d have been lost twice.”
He blushed at her words in the dimming light. She really was something. She’d been half crazed only to come completely back to her senses in the space of a few seconds. He’d never seen the like. “Rhetaiya?” he asked softly. When she didn’t answer, he cocked his head up to look at her. Her breathing was soft and slow. She really had been exhausted. “Sleep well,” he whispered into the night.