Vren arranged himself sat cross-legged, facing the flame, rubbing the sleep from his face and running his fingers through his hair. He cast his senses out and the elements sent back a pulse of peace and safety.
Dust was already staring at the flame. Vren narrowed his eyes, and his focus, and cast his thoughts within.
The blue flame rose around him and embraced him before fading.
Vren opened his eyes to find himself sitting in a senel circle, within one of the winter lodges of the Wastes.
A brazier burned before him, but he felt no heat. The marcusi around him, passing gurt and mugs of kavage, nodded their welcomes with warm smiles. Elements, he could almost smell the kavage.
All his training had taught him to control his reactions, but his spine still stiffened to see The Liam seated across the flames. The eldest of their order and master of the elements, the man sat tall and straight, his mostly bald head shining in the light of the fire, which limned the wisps of white hair off to the sides of his face.
“Vren? Dust? Welcome, both of you,” the Liam said. “We decided to risk contact, though the link is tenuous and could fail. How fare you both?”
Vren braced himself, then turned his head. Flickering beside him was a woman, outlined in blue light. As she always chose, Dust was naked, one leg drawn up with her arms clasped around the bended knee. As she always chose, she was ageless, her eyes wise and weary.
Behind her, in the shadows, other images moved and blurred. Other animal shapes. A wolf was one, a fox another, with others not easily identified. They never came to the fore, always in the background when she was in spirit form.
Here, only here, could he see the vore in her human guise, hear her speak, try to know her mind and thoughts. Dust was timeless, eternal and a mystery. All the vore were.
“We are well,” Dust said, her low and husky tones sending a shiver down Vren’s spine. “For now, we are warm and safe. But we have tidings that will bring you grief.”
That was also Dust. Never one to cushion pain.
“Speak,” the Liam commanded. “We dare not risk keeping you here long.”
Dust gave Vren the nod to speak.
Vren let his head dip, acknowledging the charge. “Master, Xywellan and Queen Kara are dead on the field of battle. The Wyvern House of Xy has won the day, and they move to secure the throne and the city of Edenrich.”
Eyes glittered around the fire.
The Liam broke the silence. “May the skies hear our voices. May the people remember.”
The response rose, “We will remember.”
Vren joined in the chant as they all spoke in one voice. “Death of earth, birth of water, death of water, birth of air, death of air, birth of fire, death of fire, birth of earth.”
As the last echo of the chant died away, the Liam spoke. “Is it perhaps too much to expect that the Blood of Xy that we were sworn to protect will now stop slaughtering each other?” His voice carried pain and frustration.
Vren opened his mouth to speak, but the Liam raised a hand. “Wait.” He held his hand out to toward the fire.
The others followed his gesture. The flames rose. Vren felt the surge of power, strengthening him and the wards around them.
Dust shifted next to him, uneasy.
The Liam noticed. “Forgive us. But there is a need.”
“Yes,” she said shortly. All knew the vore hated magic after what had been done to them long ago. They tolerated the power of the elements so long as it was not used in unnatural ways, but took little comfort in it.
“Tell us your news, Vren,” the Liam commanded.
Vren started at the beginning, telling of the summons through the token, of finding Xykara with the babe in her arms. Of his escape and flight with the wet nurse and the babes.
“What do we know of this wet nurse? Amari, you said,” one of the other Elders asked.
“Nothing,” Vren admitted. “But Kara chose her.”
The Liam frowned. “Kara also chose to enter battle pregnant and close to her time. I can be pardoned for doubting her.”
