 
THE GUARDIANS OF THE FOREST

Book One

BY

KELLY NAPOLI

### The Guardians of the Forest

### By Kelly Napoli

### Published by Kelly Napoli at Smashwords

### Copyright 2013 Kelly Napoli

### Smashwords Edition, License Notes

### This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

### CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1: An Unwelcome Visitor

Chapter 2: Magical Protection

Chapter 3: Friend

Chapter 4: Unhappy

Chapter 5: Apologies

Chapter 6: Aftermath

Chapter 7: Story

Chapter 8: Temper

Chapter 9: Fire

Chapter 10: Lesson

Chapter 11: Explore

Chapter 12: Intruder

Chapter 13: Truth

Chapter 14: Enlighten

Chapter 15: Overwhelmed

Chapter 16: Durga

Chapter 17: Drained

Chapter 18: Mercy

Chapter 19: Trapped

Chapter 20: Disappointment

Chapter 21: Madness

Chapter 22: Elegant

Chapter 23: Dinner

Chapter 24: Weak

Chapter 25: Heavenly

Chapter 26: Favors

Chapter 27: Unexpected

Chapter 28: Hope

Chapter 29: Faded

Chapter 30: Answers

Chapter 31: Control

### **PROLOGUE**

In a world—a world far unlike our own—there is a legend. A legend heard through the whispers of the wind and the murmurs of the rivers. A legend that is hushed by many lips out of fear and repeated by many more out of awe. A legend powerful enough to dominate the world.

The legend of the guardians.

It begins with a world run by a great power: magic. A magic that is complex, twisted again and again by emotions and intentions; however, this magnificent power does not start out this way. It is created pure, created in a place more revered than the heavens.

There is a forest in this world. Not just a common forest, but one that stretches for miles, dominating almost half of the world. This is the birthplace for the magic. The magic it produces is powerful and not stained yet with sins; light, unclouded by the abuses that are all too common.

Back at the dawn of time a young man encountered the forest. Magic was being created at rapid, unpredictable rates—there was no one to tame it. Well, a man by the name of Aaron Pervel took control, collecting massive amounts of magic for himself, soon becoming the most powerful person in the world. He was right for the title, too. One couldn't find a more reasonable or kind-spirited man anywhere else.

Now, as with any great power there is greed equal to it. Outsiders wanted the forest for themselves, without any good intentions for the use of its power. They stole some of the forest's magic and used it disgracefully, darkly, the only thing fueling their passions was a lust for true domination.

Aaron did not like that at all. He used his power to protect the forest from those who had the desire to misuse it. He guarded the forest with his life.

His descendants were blessed with the same power and skill as their ancestor was. They, too, protected the forest. They soon became known as the guardians.

During a period of peace from the dark intruders that came from the surrounding kingdoms, a whole-hearted guardian named Earthaphoria was protecting the forest. She was well known for her love and compassion.

A certain outsider decided to reveal himself and attack the forest, with a single purpose: its destruction. By this time, most wanted the forest gone. Some feared its power; others feared it for the guardians. The man who was attacking was powerful, having used magic in the darkest of ways. His most dangerous factor was his despise for the forest, accompanied with a talent and skill that made him practically unstoppable. His name was Gandador.

Earthaphoria had a daughter named Kiethara. When the young guardian was three, Gandador attacked Earthaphoria.

A huge battle erupted. Magic was used in ways the forest had never seen. Both warriors fought until they were tired and hurt way past their limits, yet Gandador still had one wise move up his sleeve.

He disappeared. Earthaphoria, thinking he had given up, turned her back to check on her young child. At that moment Gandador reappeared and attacked her.

Earthaphoria had finally met her match.

Now, the guardian's life was so entwined with the forest that you had to destroy the guardian first in order to eliminate the forest completely. Gandador still had one last person to kill: tiny, defenseless Kiethara.

At the same moment of Earthaphoria's death, however, the Spirit of Aaron Pervel awakened. Gandador knew he was no match for the sheer power of Aaron, so he fled in fear.

Aaron did not disappear. Instead, he stayed so he could train Kiethara. With no parent to teach her how to use her power, Aaron was forced to do so. And so he did.

Kiethara's story did not spread far, but to those it did reach they were plagued with doubt. Most thought she would fail. There was only a girl to protect the massive forest; what hope could possibly remain? Aaron was only a spirit. Everyone figured all was lost for the legendary forest.

But it wasn't.

**CHAPTER 1**

**THE UNWELCOME VISITOR**

A fifteen year old girl with waist long brown hair and navy blue eyes sat in a tree. A short, white dress adorned her slight frame. The dress fit perfectly, stopping a few inches above her knees, the sleeves short, worn so frequently that it had been worn down enough so that she could move freely in it. Gold bracelets wrapped around her thin wrists, coming to a point dead center on the back of her hand, with green crystals engraved into them. These crystals had a dull glow to them, caused not by a reflection of sunlight or heat, but by her magic. These garments were the garments of her ancestors.

The girl had a thick vine wrapped around her middle. This vine had small glass bottles placed delicately between the strings of green. In the bottles were liquids of different colors; silver, gold, purple, and blue. Each had a different, powerful purpose.

The girl suddenly jumped out of the tree. She walked along the endless line of trees, humming a song that was familiar to her. She didn't know why, though.

The girl's name was Kiethara.

Kiethara was different, very different. A few years ago Aaron had deemed her old enough to hear her story. The spirit had told her that her mother had been killed by a dark person; therefore, it was now her duty to protect the forest. A duty so weighty that she had been born with powers that required her to train, to condition, so she would be strong enough to fight off any threats to the source of her magic and the world's magic: the forest.

Kiethara walked on, humming and kicking a stone around. It was dusk; the sun was slowly sinking in the sky. Next to her, a bush suddenly rustled.

She paused and stared at the bush for a moment, watching warily as a great gray wolf came out, smacking its lips. It was obvious it had just eaten dinner, for its muzzle was covered in blood. Hesitant, she squatted and held her hand out. The wolf looked at her with a mild sort of interested expression before finally deciding that she would cause him no harm. It took a step forward and sniffed her hand. Slowly, she brought her hand up to its head and ran it through the smooth gray fur, a genuine smile spreading across her face. She had always been good with animals. As soon as the smile lit her face, another wolf howled in the distance. Without another glance at her, it scampered off.

"That lasted a while," Kiethara muttered sarcastically, brushing dirt off her knees as she stood up. She sighed and continued to walk in no general direction, the scenery around her familiar and unimpressive. Her hammock was in the opposite direction, but she just wasn't tired yet.

Lately, she had been rather bored. During the day, she trained her powers a little, went around the forest, sometimes taking a bath in a lake...however, once this was accomplished, all she had to look forward to was eating. Her dull life made her a small bit sad, for she knew it would be different if her mother was alive. They could have done so much. It would have been nice to wake up with someone there to talk to, another human and, even better, a woman to whom she could converse with. They could have played a few games together, maybe talked for hours, and her mother could have trained Kiethara herself. Not that she didn't love the Spirit of Aaron—her father figure—but Aaron wasn't present all the time. After she trained, he went to who knows where, leaving her quite alone in a forest that played home to no other company beside the occasional wild creature. It was almost maddening to be alone for so long.

After walking a bit more, Kiethara decided it was time to go back to her clearing. Her crystals brightened slightly as she lifted herself off the ground, hovering for a second before taking off. It was very easy to get lost in the forest, so when she had been younger, she came up with a system. Every few trees she had carved a symbol into the trunk, indicating which direction she was traveling in. It had taken her a while to make it up, but it worked fairly well. Of course, it only expanded for a few miles, but that was all she needed. Why did she need to travel any further than her hammock? She had everything she needed in the few miles she knew. What was beyond there? More trees and another lake?

Finally, she entered her clearing. Two grown trees stood in the middle of the space with a cloth hammock rocking in between them; off to the side lay a small pile. It contained the pathetic whole of her possessions: a blanket, two woven baskets, a small pile of berries, and a rusty old locket.

Her mother's locket.

She had found it on the forest floor a long time ago. There, engraved right into the center off the golden heart, was a curved _E_. It had taken her less than a second to recognize the _E_ to stand for Earthaphoria.

Kiethara bent down and picked up the locket, digging her nails into the side in attempt to open it. Of course, her attempt failed, but the result held no surprise for her. No matter what she did, the locket simply would not open. Her magic did naught to it, Aaron was no help...It seemed whatever lay inside wished to remain unknown. With a sigh she threw it back into the pile and climbed into her hammock, where the slight sway of her bed soothed her to sleep...

### ***

Kiethara squinted in the brilliant morning sunlight. She had had such a strange dream. With a groan, she pulled herself up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. But some small voice in her head told her something was not right. Inside her, some instinct nudged her subtly, pulling her thoughts from there lethargic state, sensing that something was wrong. She had been pulled from the middle of her dream; something must have woken her.

Quickly, she looked around. Her small pile of things lay untouched and the grass of her clearing swayed innocently in a light breeze. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Then she heard it.

Footsteps: small thuds that were whispering against the grass and leaves of the forest floor. Instantly, she jumped up. She was the only one in the forest. Well, the only one who was supposed to be in the forest. The steps grew slightly louder, but not by much. Someone was trying very hard not to be heard. Her mind started racing as she turned on her heel, desperately trying to find what direction the sound was coming from. It couldn't be an animal, for animals certainly knew how to be quiet when they wanted to be. The Spirit of Aaron didn't make any noise except for when he talked. And in her twelve years without a mother, Kiethara had never met or even seen another person.

The footsteps got louder; Kiethara could now tell where they were coming from. Somewhere in front of her. She froze to the spot. In training, Aaron had taught her that she was never supposed to panic: keep your thoughts straight and focused. It was hard to do when every tree that stood before her was a reminder of everything that could fall if she failed.

The trees in front of her rustled slightly. She reached down to the vine wrapped around her and slid one of the bottles out of it. This bottle had a dark purple liquid swirling around inside. Careful not to get any on her skin, she uncorked it.

A figure emerged from the trees.

He was a tall, thin man. His appearance alone told you one thing: dark. He was wearing a deep black cloak that fell to his brown leather boots. No other color would have matched his eyes, which were bottomless pits; not a single emotion could be found in them. Short, shaggy black hair covered his head and his skin was shockingly pale, just like Kiethara's own complexion. Beneath his cloak a sword was visible on his right hip, attached to a very tattered belt. What really gave her chills was the atmosphere around him.

The air seemed to be tainted by his very presence. It now suddenly smelled of ashes. It made her absolutely certain he had used—and was going to use—a darker version of magic.

"Who are you?" Kiethara asked.

The man gave out a cruel laugh in response to her words. She shuddered as it rang through the forest.

"Do you intend to hurt me? It might not be wise," he told her. She just stared at him.

"Do you not know who I am?" the man asked with a smirk. "Your story is so well known. Shall I give you a hint? I have done things far beyond your imagination. I have taken down kingdoms. I have even killed one of the guardians of your beloved forest."

His words gave her the answer that had been lying somewhere inside her. She had known who he was from the moment he had come into view. Only now did it register.

"You....you killed my mother. G-Gandador," she sputtered, raising her voice. Anger flooded through her. Even though she had just met him, she felt like she had known him so much longer. It hadn't taken much time for him to convince her to hate him, either.

"Yes, I killed you mother. Anger and fear flicker in your eyes—seems like you haven't learned how to control your emotions yet. Interesting. I expected you to be a little more trained. Taking down the forest might be too easy," he commented with another smirk. "I might have fun with this."

Kiethara clenched her teeth as he evaluated her. He sounded...very informed on what went on in the forest. Maybe a little too informed. It caused another wave of anger; her crystals glowing brighter.

"Leave," she hissed at him. Instead he laughed.

"I don't take orders from fifteen year old girls. Now, first I have to deal with you. Decisions, decisions..." he trailed off, looking her over. "Oh, you can put that bottle away. You don't want anyone to get hurt, do you?"

"On the contrary, I feel like hurting you very much," she hissed through her teeth.

"I want to hurt you as well," he told her in a calm voice. It sent ice through her veins. "I need to destroy the forest, you see, and this shall be most amusing, since you intend to put up a fight."

That was her limit—she lost it. With a roar of fury, she flung the contents of her bottle directly at his face. Gandador didn't even flinch. Instead, he glared at the potion for a fraction of a second, blinked, and then shot her a smile.

As he was smiling at her the potion burst into flames inches before his face.

Kiethara backed away from him, her mouth hanging open, thoughts racing inside her head. How in the world did he do that? She had never seen magic performed like that. If that was just a small taste of what he could do to her, the forest was doomed. Her magic wasn't nearly as powerful.

"That was poison, was it not? I must admit, you have excellent aim," he complimented her with a small chuckle. "I believe you now see that I am much more powerful then you are.

"I have made my decision. I think I should capture you and let you watch your precious forest burn down. Then..."

Kiethara stopped listening. He had made his decision and now she had made hers. She didn't need to listen to him as he described her own death. So with that, she sprinted away from Gandador.

"Stop!" he cried as she dove behind the tree.

Only a moment later did the tree burst into flames and she was thrown back onto her stomach. She turned her head around to find herself looking straight into the face of a huge flame, watching with horror as it slowly began to lick up the tree. With a small yelp, Kiethara jumped up and put her arms out.

Out of nowhere a chilly wind started howling, one that whipped around the tree in a circle, surrounding the flames and pushing them back. To her relief, the fire began to subside, until all that remained was the burnt bark, a scar from Gandador's vicious flames. As she stared at the marks with a hurt expression something grabbed her arm and spun her around.

"Very good, you work fast," he said.

Kiethara wrenched herself from his grip and sped off into the trees again. But before she could get very far, a sharp pain overtook her, sending her to the floor with a gasp. Her forearms felt like they were burning.

She looked down. Two orange rings of fire held them together, burning her every time she tried to pry them apart.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Gandador making his way towards her, walking slowly, as though he was enjoying a nice walk and fresh air. For some reason, that seemed to make him more menacing. She rolled over, desperately trying to pick herself up out of the grass, stumbling as she watched Gandador draw closer. Why, oh why, couldn't she keep from panicking? The emotion was making her clumsy.

"It's pointless, you know," Gandador told her as he got dangerously close. "Running is just as pointless as hiding is. You can't do either forever."

Gandador squatted down beside her. She turned her head away, but he took her chin between his rough fingers and forced her to look up at him.

"Oh, and such a pretty face," he said, clicking his tongue sympathetically. Kiethara looked up at him in disgust. Without thinking twice about it, she spat in his face.

He roared with anger and leapt away from her, the rings around her wrists disappearing. With one small glance at Gandador, she took off into the forest.

As soon as she had weaved through a few trees she launched herself into the air, the trees in a blur as she pushed herself to an incredible velocity. Branches cut at her exposed her arms and legs, but that didn't slow her down. It only helped to remind her of the pain that lay behind her, a thought that pushed her even further ahead. Her heart beat wildly in her chest.

Spitting in his face? That was all she could come up with? She felt like a fool. She was a guardian and she couldn't even remember that she had an amazing magical ability when she needed it most? How pathetic.

A voice rang through the forest. It caused her to freeze, hovering in fear as she listened to the words in dread.

"That was not a wise move, not at all. The forest won't die completely with you still alive. So come, and come to fight," the voice suggested.

The words seemed to echo in the forest for some time, reverberating off every leaf. She hovered, torn between the options she was faced with. Fear kept her from going back, but anger called her towards him. She wanted nothing more than to avenge her mother, to destroy the man that had caused so many tribulations for the forest, but logic told her she had very slim chances of doing so.

"Don't you want this back?" a much closer voice asked.

Kiethara spun around in the air, only to see her mother's killer below her.

With her mother's locket.

"Give it back!" she screeched at him, raising her arms. That was the last place she wanted the locket to be.

"Why don't you come back down and we can talk?" he suggested calmly. Her threatening arms didn't seem to faze him.

She saw no alternative—she wanted the locket badly. It was the only piece of her mother she had left, a small token that gave her hope and, above all, it was her most valuable possession. With a scowl at Gandador, she slowly lowered herself until her feet touched the ground, making sure to keep her arms raised.

"Good, good," he murmured, looking her over with his dark eyes again.

"I'm not giving myself up for the locket," she told him. "What good will it be if I'm dead?"

"Wise," he chuckled. "Why don't you lower your arms and I will toss you the locket?"

Kiethara complied, letting them fall to her sides without taking her eyes off Gandador. He nodded and tossed her the locket, which she caught reflexively. Not wanting this to happen again, she put it around her neck for safe keeping.

In one sudden movement that she almost missed, his hands twitched up.

Kiethara threw her hands up, but she knew it was no use. There was nothing she could do if Gandador decided to make her burst into flames. She had too little power, too little technique, to compete with the level of Gandador's magic. It had been a battle lost before it had started from the beginning. She closed her eyes, knowing either pain or death was soon to come and unable to face either with a heroic manifestation. Fear bubbled in her chest and threatened to expose her for the weak guardian she was.

Seconds seemed like hours while she became almost numb to her surroundings. Her heart pounded in her chest...

A sharp intake of breath caused her eyes to snap open. She did not see what she expected.

She was surrounded by a golden sphere, glittering slightly in the sunlight. Magic—clean, pure magic—seemed to radiate from it. Kiethara's navy blue eyes widened as she twisted her head to take it all in.

"Ah, so you conjured up a shield. For the first time, too, judging by your expression. You lucky, lucky girl," he said, but his tone was full of bitterness. They glared at each other, Kiethara not daring take down her shield. Well, not like she knew how it was there in the first place, but still.

"You'll get tired eventually. I, of course, could easily rip through it, but I think it would be more amusing to watch you struggle," he said. She couldn't tell if it was a lie or not.

Lie or no lie, he was right all the same. How long could she hold onto it? She didn't even know what she was holding on too. Eventually she would get tired, or starve, or her shield just might disappear as suddenly as it had come. She was standing here and waiting for certain death...but then an idea came to mind.

Who was the one who had saved her life in the first place? Who was the one who had raised her when she was little? Who was the one who showed her the powers that she had been blessed with?

"AARON!" she cried.

In the next second, it felt like she was in a tornado. What little of the sky she could see through the gaps in the trees turned a gray so dark it was almost black, the winds tossing the trees back and forth, though it did not reach her inside the golden sphere. She squinted through the golden tint to see Gandador, who was frozen to the spot. His cloak rippled out around him and his hands were up in front of his face.

A bright light suddenly blinded them both.

Kiethara didn't have to turn and look to know it was Aaron; she had grown up with his brilliant light. Gandador, though, seemed to find the light very alarming. With a swirl of his cloak, he disappeared.

As soon as he vanished the winds died down instantly, the branches surrounding her relenting from their contorted positions. Kiethara, assuming it was over, lowered her exhausted arms. As soon as she did, the golden sphere disappeared from around her. The lights around her dimmed slightly as she watched a figure walking towards her, a figure made entirely out of light, with no features on his face or any other part of his body that could be seen. The figure resembled nothing but that of a man, and that figure was the Spirit of Aaron.

"Thanks," she told him in a breathless voice.

"You have been brave, Kiethara," he said in a deep, calming tone. "Let us walk."

They walked for a minute in silence, nothing to be heard except for the sound of animals. After a few moments, Aaron broke the silence.

"I see you have conjured up a shield."

She nodded, but said nothing. She was still pondering over what had just happened, her mind spinning as she tried to comprehend everything that had taken place in that short amount of time. A new power of hers had just been discovered, Gandador had left, and she had endured. She should be ecstatic. Instead, she didn't feel anything; no overwhelming feeling was threatening to take control. The best way to describe it would be... confused. Again, Aaron broke the silence.

"So, you have finally met Gandador."

"Yes, and I hated him from the moment I saw him," she replied bluntly.

"And I believe you saw how powerful he is? You saw how he uses his power, too? At your age and with the amount of magic you know, it is near impossible to beat him alone," Aaron warned. "But I have a point—in the future, you will be that powerful. You will be able to do everything he does and more. Do not think yourself weak, Kiethara."

"Then we have a whole lot of training to do if I need to get that good," she mumbled.

"Yes, in the future there will be some hard work; however, I think it will be easier than you figure," Aaron said.

"Why?"

"Well, why do you think that you were able to produce a shield without any instruction or practice?" he asked.

At first, Kiethara didn't have any answer. How was she supposed to know how she did it? She was still wondering how she survived. She felt like she was in a dream; could things really change so fast, go from ordinary to overwhelming in a few hours? She thought for a moment before something struck her.

"That was the moment I needed it most. My power acted for me, to protect me," she said.

"Exactly. Your emotions are linked to your magic. Have you ever noticed that when you're frustrated, the crystals in your bracelets glow brighter?" he asked.

"Yes, I've noticed. They did that when I was talking to Gandador." She had definitely not been in the most pleasant of moods.

"The harder they glow, the more magic you are calling forward at the time. This means that the brighter they glow, the closer you are approaching your most powerful state. Also, a more dangerous state."

"Hold on..." Kiethara said slowly. "My most powerful and dangerous state? What sense does that make? I'm supposed to get angry at everything that poses a threat to defeat them, but at the same time I shouldn't because it's dangerous?"

"Yes and no. First of all, it is not just anger that you have to feel. Any strong emotion can cause a surge of magic. Your crystals are where your magic is....stored, if you will.

"Very rarely does a strong emotion cause a surge of magic. It must be a new, fresh emotion you are experiencing. Sometimes, if too much magic is stored, or if you are feeling a very powerful emotion, it is released in a quick and powerful burst. This can help you a great deal, but it can also harm you a great deal, in more ways than one. When you are in this state, you lose control of your magic as well as yourself. You could harm someone you don't wish to harm.

"Also, in this state you release some of your emotions and the people who survive that burst could use that against you. Listen to me: never try to make this happen. Control your emotions, for it will help you a great deal if you do. Your best state is when you are calm and able to make rational decisions. You have so much power, Kiethara, and soon you will be able to utilize this potential to amazing extents," Aaron finished off.

"Does this mean I had a magical burst today and created a shield? That's not powerful," she noted, disappointed.

"That was not a magical burst; you simply let your emotions get the best of you. Sometimes, when you don't have adequate control over your emotions, you manipulate your magic in a different way by mistake. This is dangerous because you don't how you will use it. It's unpredictable. That's why I need you to practice controlling your emotional state."

"More practicing?" she asked glumly. It had just dawned on her how tired she felt now.

"Yes, life as a guardian is not an easy one. It will be months upon months before your training will be complete, and truthfully, your training never really ends. You can't learn every talent your powers have to offer because you can't feel every emotion requisite; you can't use the maneuvers someone else has discovered because you can never feel the exact same way as they do. It might seem like a lot now, but after you have rested and thought about our conversation, I think it might not seem as hard," Aaron said.

They had reached her hammock now. A quick glance told her that her pile besides it was gone and Kiethara panicked for a second, spinning in the air. A closer look told her that her few possessions were only scattered about and had been tossed unceremoniously around the clearing during Gandador's obtrusive visit.

"Have a good day. Also, don't worry about Gandador. He won't return today," Aaron said in a calming voice.

"How do you know?" she asked.

"Well, I'm sure the fight between you and him hasn't tired him much, but he'll plan his next move, and carefully. He seriously underestimated you today, and I don't think he will be foolish enough to make the same mistake twice."

"What mistake did he make?"

"He came into the forest without a plan, figuring a fifteen-year-old girl would be simple to handle. We both saw how very wrong he was," Aaron said with a small chuckle.

"Well, I'm not really a threat. Maybe he just has bad luck," she noted. Aaron chuckled again.

"Ah, so modest. It wasn't luck that made today turn out this way, it was quick thinking on your part that helped you a great deal."

"Quick thinking?" Kiethara repeated with a roll of her eyes. "I got frightened like a small animal and produced amazing magic."

If there was one thing she was, it was independent. Having living almost all her life alone, she was used to doing things herself. Being treated like a child was not something she enjoyed and Aaron didn't have to give her a few false compliments to make her feel better. She wasn't being modest. She was telling the truth, and he was just feeling sorry for her. She did not stand to be pitied—Aaron knew that.

"This was a tough day, Kiethara. You protected the forest from a great threat. You had no warning, no preparation. I consider that very good," he told her. She felt only slightly better.

"I must leave you now. No doubt you wish to rest," Aaron said. She nodded, watching him disappear as he walked into the surrounding trees.

She sighed, dragging her beat body to her hammock, thoughts spinning around in her head like angry bees. Images from this morning kept replaying in her head. Gandador's face was most clear, so vivid that she cringed back from it. Finally, she reached her hammock and threw herself into it.

She groaned with the responding soreness. Her forearms were red and slightly bloody, her exposed skin was scratched up. And, as if to top it off, she had a headache.

Kiethara put her hand up towards one of the two trees supporting her hammock. It was like watching the tree grow in fast forward; one of the branches thickened and the leaves turned a darker shade of green just as a plump apple appeared above her head.

Kiethara smiled at the ripe fruit. The apple had always been her favorite. She stretched up and picked it, pausing for a moment before sinking her teeth into the bright red skin. Although the sweet juice gushed out of the fruit and dribbled down her chin, the apple tasted bitter. She turned it over in her hand, staring blankly across her clearing. All these years, the forest had been peaceful and quiet, but now it seemed the peace had been smashed, brutally demolished by a man who had only been a frightful nightmare just the day before. She could be attacked at any time, even when she was asleep. The thought made fear twist uneasily in her stomach. She looked around, but all was still. There was only one of her—how in the world was she going to be able to do this? Aaron had told her that Gandador had followers, people who were just as twisted as he was and had the same motive.

Kiethara bit into her apple again and chewed it slowly. What if the forest did fall? What would the world be like? All these questions buzzed around in her head, but none of them were being answered.

She finished her apple, taking out the seeds and tossing them and the core as far as she could. Not only was she tired and hurt, she was also frustrated. Why was it her responsibility to protect the forest? Boiling anger built up inside her, as well as a swell of self-pity.

She shook her head. No, she couldn't feel like this. Self-pity got you nowhere.

It was all too much to take in, especially in one day. Her crystals were shining brightly, but Aaron's words came into mind, leading her to take a deep, steady breath while she watched them dim with satisfaction.

She tried to think positive. Aaron was able to defeat Gandador, wasn't he? He could teach her how to defend herself. Still, dark thoughts kept creeping back into her mind as a beast did to his burrow—it would take her years to learn and master all of it. Gandador would certainly kill her by then.

"Stop that," she told herself fiercely. "Aaron won't let that happen."

Finally, Kiethara fell into a very troubled sleep.

**CHAPTER 2**

**MAGICAL PROTECTION**

Kiethara woke at random intervals during the rest of the day, but in the end she fell into a very deep sleep just as the sun was setting. The sleep was filled with many dreams, some just as terrifying as the others were comforting. Gentle dreams consisted of images of her sitting with her mother, basking in the warmth that filled her when she was just to be able to be in her presence. Her mother's figure was blurry, and she couldn't make out a single detail, but still, for a dream, it was nice.

Her mother was talking to her. Talking with gusto, in fact, using her unclear hands to help her speech. The frantic motions made it appear urgent, but Kiethara could not make out was she was saying. Not a sound could be heard; not from her mother, not from the numerous animals in the forest, nothing.

Then the dream changed.

Her next dream was not nearly as pleasant. In fact, it was downright petrifying. She was kneeling before Gandador, the trees surrounding them on fire. But just like her previous dream, she couldn't hear a sound. Gandador's victorious laughter was muted, along with the crackling of the burning timber, and then, with a final smirk, Gandador raised his arms.

Kiethara bolted upright, cold sweat running down her neck and her breath coming in gasps. She put a hand to her head, trying to get the image of Gandador out of her head. Her throat burned for water. So, with a sigh, Kiethara got up and started walking west.

The sounds of the morning reached her ears. She had to admit, she was relieved to hear them. Each sound from an animal or rustle of a leaf brightened her mood slightly.

Finally, she reached another small clearing where a small, oval lake was neatly placed in the center. It was beautiful this time of day, with the sun sparkling of the surface of the water, the cool liquid tantalized her to quickly make her way to the shore. She bent down and splashed the cool, crisp water onto her face and took a gulp of lake that soothed her dry throat as well as her pounding head. Smiling, she got up to leave.

However, to her surprise, none other than the Spirit of Aaron was standing right across the lake.

"Good morning, Kiethara," he greeted her. "Come."

Kiethara lifted her feet of the ground with a suppressed groan. She knew his appearance signified something important—whatever she learned today would be important—so she glided over to Aaron without making a verbal complaint.

"We will be training today," said Aaron as they left the clearing.

Of course, she had already known that. Only rarely were they together when she wasn't training, such as the time where Aaron had told her everything about the surrounding kingdoms; what the people were like, how they lived. Most of everything he had told her had sounded completely outlandish. For example, their homes were made of bricks and stones, or sometimes made of wood, but not a single tree could be found in these places. She had shaken her head at the alien ways of the outsiders.

Well, she certainly wasn't hearing stories today. The thought of learning more about her power made her ache all over again—training could be painful. She could still remember the day Aaron had taught her how to fly. She had climbed a tree and jumped out of it several times, only to land painfully in the grass. Her temper had flared so much that she had slipped out of the tree, which was outrageous, because she never fell out of trees.

Instead of landing in the grass again, however, she had found herself floating. The happiness that had followed had been so potent that she had lost concentration and fell.

Kiethara chuckled. It might have hurt back then, but it was funny now.

"Why are you laughing?" Aaron's tone was funny, as though he was questioning her sanity.

"Oh, just a happy memory," Kiethara said with a distant smile. She could definitely use a few more of those.

The trees began to get thicker and thicker, indicating they were fast approaching their destination.

And what a destination it was.

It seemed to be just another clearing. A clearing with a wide lake placed in the back of it, the edge of the water backing right into the northern trees. The trees surrounding the perfect circle were so lush, colors so rich and vivid, that the eyes strained to look at them. They seemed to be at their peak in life, and soft, emerald grass swayed slightly as a sweet breeze tickled them. The beautiful rays of sunlight were tinted green ever so slightly, the light sparkling and dancing off the crystal blue water in beautiful reflection. Every detail was illuminated. It was beauty beyond compare.

Yet it was so much more.

This enchanting place was the center of the forest. The guardian's lake. This place had come to mean something almost sacred to her, holding her in a reverent state as she stood on its soil. To the guardians, this was the real proof of their heritage—they were to be born here, just as they were to be buried here. Just as her mother was.

The lake was very important for other reasons, too. It healed. Not physically, but it could restore lost magic or calm down a strong emotion, dulling the sense of any pain of any wound. It was impossible for a guardian to die in the lake. Nothing could reach her down there.

Without waiting for Aaron to speak, Kiethara dove elegantly into the lake. As soon as her skin made contact with the cool water, every ache from the previous day seemed to vanish. The rush of the water over her head was just what she needed and a wave of warmth overtook her, even though the water was cool. Every pain was numbed and every worry was calmed.

She opened her eyes and her mouth. The water rushed in, sending a flurry of bubbles to make their way to the surface. She could breathe under water in this lake as easily as she could breathe with her head above the surface. With a laugh of relief, she propelled herself to the bottom.

Her feet made contact with the sooth, mushy bottom of the lake. Not a feeling she particularly enjoyed, but there was nothing she could do about it; beside, it was too amazing at the bottom of the lake for any type of reluctance to keep her from it. Light filtered down from the surface, casting it in an eerie gloom.

In front of her, there were rows of stones, parallel to each other and neatly carved. It looked just like an underwater graveyard.

It was.

Kiethara pushed herself down the last row and swam slightly to the right, feeling that if the grave was above on the surface she would have worn a path to it by now. Finally, she stopped right in front of one of the numerous stones, the sparkling lavender crystal on the top of it indicating she had arrived before the right one. Words were carved neatly into it:

EARTHAPHORIA

LIVED FOR 35 YEARS.

" _OUR GREATEST GIFT IS LOVE"_

Every tombstone had an adage on it, a saying that the guardian used often. She took one last glance at her mother's grave before turning back to where she had started. Down the center of the graveyard was a small path that led her down to the very front of the resting place for the deceased, where a huge stone was looming over the other stones, casting an almost menacing shadow. This stone was by far the most important thing in this silent lake.

Four glass balls were engraved into the gray stone, each one holding a wisp of colored smoke in them. The first glass ball on the left had red smoke and, like the others, a small description was carved directly beneath it. She read it for what seemed like the millionth time.

FIRE

The element of light and heat. This element is mostly controlled by anger. To control this element, you must control your anger.

This was supposed to be the first element she was to control with her power, but she had trouble with this element. The true problem was she was a patient person, one who had spent all of her life alone in a mundane forest just waiting for something to happen.

Aaron had attempted to teach her it, and had failed. She never had any good reason to get angry. No matter what Aaron threw at her, the greatest her mood would escalate to was a mellow annoyed. With a sigh, Kiethara turned her eyes over to the next glass ball, which was filled with a slightly green wisp of smoke. She read:

EARTH

The element of nature. This element is mostly controlled by happiness and love. To control this element, you must not be burdened by your misfortunes. To control this element, you must love. Do not hate.

Kiethara smiled. This was one element that she had no trouble with. When Aaron had finally given up on the fire element they had gone on to the second element, she had learned the basic principals in record time. Now, she hardly had to draw up a happy memory or find something to love, simply because it came so natural. She went on to the next element, which was a glass ball filled with a blue wisp of smoke. She read:

WATER

The element of liquid and ice. This element is mostly controlled by sorrow. To control this element you must control your sorrow.

Kiethara had no experience with this element, because this seemed to be the last element she was supposed to learn. She didn't know why, since the lessons had been going in order so far. Of course, it wasn't as though anything sad was about to occur. Aaron was the only one she cared about and he couldn't even die. She hadn't known her mother that well, either. She thought it might be entertaining to learn how to control water, but Aaron refused to teach it to her. She exhaled sharply, a fit of bubbles, and went on to the next element. This glass ball had a wisp of white smoke in it. She read:

AIR

The element of wind. This element was mostly controlled by fear. To control this element, you must control your fear. Do not panic.

Kiethara had a little difficulty with this element. During the rather dull years of her life, she hadn't really had anything to fear or panic about. It had been strenuous to master the basics, but she—with much concentration—could control it if needed. Now she did have something to fear, but it was something she didn't want to dwell on.

Now these were the four elements. Separated, each held a dangerously unique and unyielding power. Aaron had hinted that together, they were stronger than anything she could imagine. If used together, they would create an inexorable offense and an unwavering defense. When she had pressed him on what he meant, he had refused to go into any further detail except that it was the most intricate form of magic.

Kiethara, ready to resurface, headed up towards the bended light that made its way through the water. She came up with a small gasp as air rushed greedily into her lungs, the warm morning kissing at her damp cheeks. She clambered onto solid ground, all aches and pains returning, to find Aaron waiting patiently for her. The light radiating of Aaron dried her in seconds.

"Are you ready to begin?" Aaron asked.

"Yes. Um...what will we be doing?" Kiethara asked.

"Magical protection."

She hadn't expected it, even though it should have been observable. Yesterday, she had finally summoned some great defense; of course she should learn it. But she knew it wouldn't be easy. Fear might have triggered it before, but it was difficult to feel frightened with Aaron standing next to her and her surroundings so pleasurable. It would most certainly prove a challenge to imagine a horror in the sun kissed clearing surrounded by verdant trees.

"As you know, fear is what triggered your shield. Now, what you need to do is direct that fear, bottle it in a way, but be able to release it when necessary. Can you recall the emotion you had yesterday?" he asked. She grimaced.

"Probably."

"All right then, attempt to pretend that I am your adversary."

Aaron backed up slightly, positioning himself as though he was going to attack. Kiethara raised her arms and focused upon on him, recalling the rush of emotion she had felt just the day before. She could remember the fear that had channeled through her blood as she waited for her death to come. How the seconds had drawn out! How the gut wrenching terror in her stomach had nearly incapacitated her! She could recall all that in vivid detail.

Nothing happened.

Kiethara let her arms drop to her sides, clearly dissatisfied. Aaron saw her distress.

"Don't fret. You're just not using your fear. You're only remembering it. Think of Gandador's attack and let the fear empower your magic, but keep it under control," he explained.

Kiethara took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Behind her eyelids, she saw Gandador, with his dark hair and pale skin as clear as if she was looking at him. She managed to bring forth the same feeling of fear she had when he had really been standing before her, but this time, she let it take over her. The image of her shield came to mind, and she focused on it with all her might.

"Well done," she heard Aaron say. She opened her eyes.

She was surrounded by her shield. The golden sphere was almost unreal, shimmering in the sun around her. Now that she wasn't in danger, she could really marvel its beauty. Inside it, she felt....protected. That fact made her smile, her fear disappearing, and she reached out to stroke it....

It vanished.

"Now that wasn't so hard, now was it?" Aaron asked. Her grin grew more pronounced.

"But how could I do that so easily? Everything else took much longer to control," she asked.

"It's really Gandador's fault. I have explained to you that your emotions are linked to your power. Before his attack, you had no examples of strong emotions. There was no reason to be afraid, or angry, or anything but content. I know your life was simple before, but now it's going to be complicated. More training, definitely, but it shouldn't be too hard. You have stronger emotions now," he surmised.

"I wonder what he would do if he knew that."

"We can only imagine."

They kept training. It wasn't the simplest thing she had ever done, but the feeling of fear was easier to recall. Aaron seemed to be pleased with their progress, even though it was slow. Both of them were also giddy with relief.

Her shield meant much more than just a new talent. She could be safe, protected by at least a diminutive amount, and the reassuring thought made her light-headed. Of course, it was probable that Gandador could make his way through her shield, but still, it was something. In seconds, she could be safe from harm's way.

Aaron then allowed her to leave. She felt more tired than she had yesterday; drained, in a way. She would have flown to her hammock, but the thought of using any more magic made her head throb. Instead, her feet dragged against the grass as she pulled herself between the trees.

Kiethara pondered over Aaron's words, trying to understand how Gandador had helped her. Well, everything happened for a reason. The reason Gandador attacked was so she could do better and learn more magic, so she could wield the power she had been given. It made....sense. Without any threat on her life, what would motivate her to train? No danger, no need for magic.

Though, if everything did happen for a reason, then why did her mother die? So she would be strong enough to fight Gandador alone? That didn't seem like a very nice reason. Had that really done anything else for her except scar her life? So many questions, but not enough answers.

For the first time, she honestly wondered what life outside the forest was like. In her mind, she had no images than those her imagination had construed during Aaron's descriptions, and even those, she felt, did not give her the full picture of a world shadowed in obscurity.

And what were the kingdoms like? In her mind, they were nothing short of marvelous. Great throngs of people, noisy marketplaces, tall buildings that cast great shadows, matched with sights and smells she had never encountered before; maybe a life that was free of tragedy and pain.

She suddenly felt...lonely. Well, for good reason. She only lived with a spirit and had a conversation once with her enemy. She laughed darkly to herself.

What type of magic did the kingdoms use? Did they even know about the forest?

Kiethara stopped walking and shook her head. It was pointless asking questions that weren't going to be answered. Sooner or later, they were going to drive her insane.

Aaron could possibly have a few answers, yet her chances of getting him to tell her were slim. He was always so hesitant, like he was keeping a secret. It was as though he thought if he told her too much she would run off to the kingdoms for good. That wasn't likely.

That was the difference between a normal life and her life. That was the reason she didn't run away from it all. She had something to live for. All those normal, supposedly lucky people didn't have a bigger or better reason to live than she did.

That reason ran in her blood.

**CHAPTER 3**

**FRIEND**

The next days was very much the same: training went smoothly, for her shield came to her now almost like a natural instinct, and the speed and ease of her preparation put her in a rather fine mood.

Again, after her training all she could do was wander and think. She never strayed too far from the area she had grown accustomed to; however, the carvings on the trees only went so far and were sometimes no help at all.

So Kiethara found herself padding through the forest, her mind was blank and eyes staring as she tried not to think too hard. Every time she did think, she would always end up with more questions and, frankly, that was something she really didn't need.

It was suddenly very quiet.

All the animals around her went silent. The sudden unnatural hush was unnerving. She stopped short and strained her ears, listening, and then she could hear it: a soft thudding that was steadily getting louder. Her shield went up quickly, no memory needed, for her heart was already sent into a frantic pounding that was loud in her ears.

In front of her, a figure emerged from the nearest tree.

Her muscles tensed, a cold sweat starting on the back of her neck. Since her shield emitted a soft golden light, the stranger's appearance came into detail.

Kiethara let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding out in relief. It was not Gandador, but that great fact didn't make her let her guard down.

It was a boy, nearing the age of a man, with a tall, slender figure. He had shaggy, blonde hair that fell over his devastatingly deep forest green eyes, with long, thick eyelashes framing the brilliant irises. His nose was perfect, dead center in his face, while his thin lips looked soft. His expression was a mixture of surprise and alarm; his slightly tanned skin was tinted gold because of her shield. He was wearing a black tunic over brown trousers, the tunic fitting tightly over his muscular chest, with dark brown boots to fit over his feet. He looked to be the same age—maybe a bit older—then she was. All in all, he was beautiful. Despite this, Kiethara was backing away.

She was backing away because he was holding a bow, arrow in place and ready to be shot. She doubted the arrow could penetrate her shield, but what if he could make it burst into a flame so powerful it ripped through her only defense and kill her? Or made it so that when it impaled her skin she was paralyzed, so Gandador could finish her off personally? Yet something she felt made her doubt both of those conclusions.

When she first saw Gandador, she could sense the dark magic. It was heavy around him, and it smelt like something was burning. The person in front of her felt...empty. He didn't look sinister, and he didn't smell like ashes. In fact, he smelled sweet, like roses, but slightly different. Something she had not smelled before. The air around him was still, unlike how Kiethara's hair was twitching in the slight breeze caused by her fear. He was so...normal. Ordinary. She no longer felt a threat. But precaution was still necessary, for he was armed. Kiethara still had her shield up and she was taking steps back.

He then seemed to really take her in. His eyes widened slightly as they gazed upon her shield. He scanned her over; she watched as his eyes traveled up from her feet to her face until they made contact with her eyes, his mouth opening slightly.

Something flickered in his expression. The surprise stayed in place, but the alarmed expression changed to something else, like he realized something. Almost as if he was afraid of her. Kiethara didn't know what could possibly make him feel that way, when he was so strong. Then he moved.

He pulled the arrow out of its place and put it with the others on his back, very slowly. He did the same with his bow and then—in the same slow motion—he put his hands up, palms forward, and took a step forward.

"I won't hurt you," he said. His voice was deep, strong. Kiethara found it hard to doubt the sincerity that rang in his words, but she still tried.

"How do I know you're speaking the truth?" Kiethara asked, raising an eyebrow, struggling to keep her shield up. All fear had left her. The boy caused her to feel...she couldn't find a word for it.

"I swear," he said, and took another step towards her cautiously. His eyes held a small hint of a smile, and was that...eagerness?

Kiethara lost her fight with her shield; it disappeared. She stayed where she was, scrutinizing the boy in front of her. His expression was no longer surprised, but reassuring.

"Who are you?" Kiethara asked.

"Navadar."

Slowly still, he walked forward while she watched him with wary eyes. He was now close enough that her extended arm would reach him.

"What are you doing here, in the middle of a forest like this?" she asked suspiciously. He was the first one, in all these years, who had ever come into the forest, come deep enough to actually make contact with her.

"Exploring," Navadar answered.

"Exploring?" she questioned.

"Yes, I'm exploring... Legend says if you make it to the heart of the magical forest in the center of the world you can find the guardian..." he trailed off and scanned her with his eyes again. Kiethara looked down and blushed. It was foolish; she should be either running away or fighting. Neither was happening, and truthfully, she didn't want them to. Someone—someone from the world she had thought of often—had dared to venture in the forest.

"So, are you the guardian?" he asked, trying to keep the conversation light. But he couldn't hide the disappointment in his eyes completely.

"I believe I am," she replied with a small smile.

Navadar bit his lip. She could see the distrust in her words clearly.

So she had to prove herself? She mildly wondered how she looked to him.

Kiethara then focused her attention on the grass in front of her, waving her hand through the air in one small, indiscrete motion. Instantly, a white rose blossomed from the ground: her favorite flower. She didn't think Navadar would wait long enough for her to grow the whole bush, so she took her convenient short cut, bending down and picked it in one elegant motion. Navadar's shocked expression returned for a whole minute before he could compose it. When he did, it became a dazzling smile.

"The legends speak of a guardian who is...older."

"You seem to rely upon your legends greatly," she said, and then sighed. "The legends you have heard forgot to factor in one key point: Gandador."

Kiethara, keeping an eye on Navadar with her peripheral vision, walked towards the nearest tree and pulling herself up on the lowest branch, which was only a couple feet off the ground. She put a hand of the trunk and watched him as he stood there, shocked, wary, awkward, burning with curiosity.

"Gandador?! The one who had attacked my kingdom fourteen years ago? What does he have to do with the fact that a girl my age is guarding a forest bigger than three kingdoms combined? Eh?" he asked. She couldn't help herself, she laughed. The sound seemed to thaw Navadar out, and he took cautious steps forward until he was standing at the edge of the branch.

"Twelve years ago, I was the age of three," she explained. "My mother, Earthaphoria, was the guardian of the forest. She would still be guarding the forest today, if she was still alive."

"Gandador killed the guardian?" he asked, appalled.

"Yes."

He then asked the question she knew had been coming. "Then why is the forest still here?"

"The forest is still here because the death of Earthaphoria awakened the Spirit of Aaron. He protected me and drove Gandador off, weakening him greatly. Then Aaron raised me and trained me as best as circumstances allowed." She didn't tell him that she was still training. What if he thought her weak or figured her easy enough to kill?

"That is not what some of the legends say. Gandador is supposed to be dead," he told her, eyes wide in horror.

"Do you really think your silly rumors got the truth right, and the person who was actually there is speaking a lie?" she challenged, raising her eyebrows. Navadar was silent for a while before he composed himself. He sat down, slowly, on the edge of the branch she was one. He was still a good few feet away.

"True. So...does that mean you have amazing powers, or are shields and gardens all you capable of?" he mocked. Brave boy. She laughed quietly again. It felt...natural, and that made her feel uneasy. She shouldn't trust Navadar so quickly.

"I can do much more than that," she told him, which was almost completely telling the truth.

"Well, what can you do now?" Navadar asked.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked, tensing up.

"No, no," Navadar said quickly. "I didn't mean it like that. Not at all. I told you, I'm not a threat, I swear."

Again, his sincerity was impossible to doubt.

"You don't have to show me anything," he said quickly. It was clear in his eyes that she had offended him. She bit her lip.

"Why did you want to meet the guardian?" she asked. It seemed like a risky journey for just a simple conversation with a being of one of his legends.

"I was...curious," he admitted, but he seemed to be struggling for the right words. "My life was plenty ordinary and I felt like going on a small quest. I had to come to Nikkoi anyway. In fact, my father doesn't even know that I'm here."

She shouldn't feel regret—that was irrational—but she couldn't help it. Would it really hurt if she showed him just one thing? Something that Gandador had already seen her do, something inconsequential.

"I can show you one thing," she relented.

She looked around, wondering what would be the best way to show him. She wanted to show him just enough so he wouldn't question her power again.

Kiethara pulled herself onto her feet, balancing herself on the branch. Fortunately, the trees in the forest were lush and overgrown, so it didn't take much to climb one...that is, if you knew how to climb one.

She pulled herself up onto the next branch, and was about to pull herself up higher when Navadar called out.

"Where are you going?" he asked, puzzled. He had followed her and was standing on the lower branch.

"To show you what you want to see," Kiethara said, exasperated. She pulled herself up another branch, and Navadar followed, utterly perplexed. She sat herself upon the highest branch, him one lower.

"All right, watch."

Kiethara threw herself off the branch. The air whooshed past her.

"No!" she heard Navadar cry. His hand shot out and grabbed her hand. She giggled.

Kiethara was hovering in the air, eight feet above the ground. She had one hand extended, the hand Navadar had grabbed in his own fear. He was staring at her with his mouth hanging open, and Kiethara answered his stare with a smug grin.

Unsure of when Navadar was going to recover, she rose slightly and stood on the same branch as him. She removed her hand from his grip, and that seemed to thaw him out.

"That was amazing, um..." Navadar said, a bit breathless. She realized she hadn't given him her name yet.

"Kiethara."

"Kiethara, that's a lovely name," he complimented. She blushed and averted her eyes.

"So what do you protect the forest from? I can't imagine anyone thinking they could take down the forest, with all the legends of the guardians and such," he asked.

"Have you been following along at all? I thought it would be obvious. Gandador, of course," she said.

He just stared at her, as though she had two heads instead of one. Then he just shook his head, as though he was denying the fact.

"You just told me he fled. What are you talking about?" he asked with a weak chuckle that had a small note of hysteria.

"That's true. He had been afraid of The Spirit of Aaron, so he ran away like a coward. Apparently, he thought he was strong enough to beat Aaron, or he thought Aaron was no longer here, and then he showed up. As soon as Aaron did show up, though, he fled."

"He came back?" Navadar asked, expression appalled.

"Um..." Kiethara said, afraid to admit to him the truth. His reactions of horror and fear were throwing her off. Not that it made any sense that she was telling her life's story to a stranger, but she thought it would be good if the kingdoms were warned, for Gandador had been known to attack them as well. But Navadar wasn't a fool, so she finished in a small voice.

"Yes."

"He did? When?" he asked.

"Er... a few days ago. Something like that," she said in a casual tone.

"What?! Are you all right?" he asked, caring. She liked that.

"I'm fine," she said with a roll of her eyes, though she could feel the blood rushing to her face.

"Tell me what happened," he said. He scanned her over with his eyes, as though he was checking for battle scars. Kiethara took a deep breath and tried to explain as much as she could with as little detail as possible. It wasn't as though she had to tell him, but she didn't want to seem rude. She finally had a friend, one who was alive and one who didn't want her dead.

"All right. One day I woke up and he—Gandador—was there. I tried to attack, but failed, so I fled. He caught up with me, holding my mother's locket"—she pointed to the locket she was wearing—"but I got it back, and then Aaron came to my rescue."

"Wait," Navadar said. "Are you talking about Aaron Pervel? The forest's father?"

"Aaron Pervel?" she asked with a laugh. "His name is Aaron Pervel?"

"That's what the legend says. Does this mean the rumors know more than the guardian?" he asked in mocking surprise.

"Of course not. Aaron just hasn't told me about his personal life yet. In fact, I don't know too much on life outside the forest," she admitted.

Kiethara looked out towards the golden sun. It was getting lower in the sky, casting the clouds into colors of gold, baby blue, and a dull pink. It was beautiful, but it had her sighing in disappointment.

"What?" he asked, and followed her gaze. They both stared at the sun for a moment, soaking in the remaining rays it provided them. They turned towards each other, eyes meeting, and she was suddenly lost in the deep beauty of his green eyes. Her mind catching up with her actions, she reddened and averted her gaze, holding her breath as her stomach flipped uneasily. They were both silent, awkwardness holding tightly at her tongue.

"I should be getting back to my hammock; it's hard to find in the dark. You should also be getting back to...wherever you came from," she finally said with a sad smile.

"Say no more," he said, and then he jumped to a lower branch and out of the tree altogether.

"Be careful!" she cried, jumping out of the tree as well, absorbing the impact with the balls of her feet.

Navadar chuckled. "Not a scratch on me."

They started walking in the direction of her hammock. This silence wasn't awkward, but Kiethara had too many questions to keep quiet.

"So where did you come from?" she asked.

"The kingdom of Redawn," he answered promptly. After a few seconds of silence Kiethara raised an eyebrow.

"That is located...?"

"It's not too far from here, actually. Nikkoi is closer, but it only takes about a day or two straight on horseback. That's not counting the stops of course, but still."

She smiled at his words. That meant he might come back.

"What's Redawn like?" she asked.

"It's one of the better kingdoms, really. We have a lot of royal blood, and we have the strongest defense, the richest merchants, and the nicest people. We don't have half as much of the crime in the other kingdoms, but the reason behind that is because we have no lust for power, none of your magic to gain. We don't use it, and our nation never will," he declared rather proudly.

"No magic?!" she asked in disbelief.

"I know it must amaze you, just as the things you do amaze me. Even the weakest magic you could perform would amaze my kingdom. Our ancestors hadn't liked the dangerous power magic was, so they gave it up, and since then nobody in Redawn has even attempted to wield it. Truthfully, it has kept us together. Even the king won't use it."

"Your king?" she asked. Navadar sighed.

"I forgot how little you know. I might as well tell you everything," he said, taking a deep breath.

"The kingdom of Redawn is the only non-magic kingdom. There are many more kingdoms, but all of those kingdoms use the magic you guard here. All these had kingdoms fought for power—the power of the magic, mostly. Right now, however, some truces have been laid down and the fighting has ceased.

"What really sparks all the fighting is the way people used the power. People were twisting the power into something dark; however, no one had noticed this happening, because it was happening so subtlety. But the increase had been recognized, a little too late in my opinion. Kingdoms were falling deeper into this dark, powerful magic. It was all we could do to keep the world sane.

"People want the forest for themselves, but none dare approach it in fear of the mystery of its past and present. Back fifteen years ago, Gandador only ruled our kingdom for two years. He was foolish, thinking he was powerful enough to destroy the forest. See, everyone believed he would never fall, so when he did fall to the forest, people were in shock. No one really knew what lay in here, but whatever it was had killed the greatest enemy the kingdoms had ever faced. Or so they thought. Rumors spread like wild fire, and people stopped using magic, due to the fact they were too scared to come here and get any more of the power. Back then, people would just walk in and...take some? I don't know what they did. I've never done it myself," he finished, leaving Kiethara with more questions than she had had when they had started.

"Amazing," she said. "So that's why you are the first one to come into the forest."

"Yes, I suppose it is," Navadar said. "It also takes a long journey for most of the other kingdoms to get here. Redawn and Nikkoi are the only kingdoms that are close enough to get here inside a day. Our kingdom doesn't use magic, so we have no reason to come here. I'm surprised nobody from Nikkoi has come, but I suppose they are a bunch of cowards."

"Why are they scared, though? The guardians banished their enemy. Don't they know that, if their intentions are good, the guardian won't hurt them? That _I_ won't hurt them?"

"Most people have forgotten that the guardian means well and the people that do remember are more intimidated than scared," Navadar said.

They had reached her clearing now. The sun was even lower in the sky, casting the forest into beautiful colors of pink, orange, and red. The light reflected off of Navadar's eyes, his hair twisting and turning in the slight breeze. His beauty was almost staggering, and a feeling rose in Kiethara that had her bewildered; it was something she had never felt before. Was this what having a friend felt like? It was so strong; she couldn't form a coherent sentence to keep the conversation going. Navadar seemed to be having the same issue.

She did not want him to leave. Today had been one of the best days of her life, for it was the first day she had ever conversed happily with another human, at least in her memory. It seemed she had another reason to live, not just to protect the forest. Now she could spend time with a friend! But she was getting ahead of herself—what if he didn't come back? She was afraid that he would leave now, and this all would just slip away. It would just be another happy memory.

"You should get going. There's not a lot of day light left," Kiethara sighed at last. She tore her eyes away from him and followed his gaze back out towards the sun.

Navadar opened his mouth as though to say something, but he closed it.

"You're right," he finally said.

"Promise you'll come back, though," she said quickly, and then added, "It's so boring here, you know."

"Don't worry, I will. I'll go back to my kingdom first, but I'll return. Around a week, say," he promised. A week seemed long, but at least it was something. She smiled.

"All right," she said.

"Goodbye," he said in reply, and with one final glance at his surroundings, he turned his back to her and started walking east.

"Farewell," Kiethara called to his retreating back, perhaps a bit too late. She stood rooted to the spot long after he had left. Finally, with a heavy sigh, she clambered into her hammock and fell into a dreamless sleep.

**CHAPTER 4**

**UNHAPPY**

Kiethara woke up, squinting into the brilliant sunlight as she struggled to get up. It felt like she had been asleep for quite a while; her stiff limbs were only further proof to that theory. Then she remembered the previous day's events.

"Oh!" she huffed, her eyes snapping all the way open. She looked around, half expecting him to be standing right in front of her; however, the forest was void of any human presence besides her own.

Kiethara smiled. She knew that she was no longer alone. Truthfully, she had never been, but this past event made it seem more like reality. Gandador might have taken her mother away, but he certainly couldn't take the rest of the world away. Even if she felt separated, she was not alone.

Navadar.

_Navadar_.

She liked the sound of his name. It sounded strong, like the name of a warrior. Well, he was an adventurer.

Kiethara shook her head. Things were changing so fast, so rapidly, but now the new developments were not all dripping with despair. For so long she had been traveling on a straight, familiar path and now one visit from Gandador sent her spiraling along an unfamiliar route and into new, unexplored territory.

Kiethara wrapped her vine full of bottles back around her waist. She always took it off when she slept so the bottles wouldn't break in the middle of the night; the last thing she needed was for her to accidentally poison herself. Kiethara laughed. That would be just her luck.

Kiethara watched with a blank expression as one of the trees supporting her hammock suddenly became wrapped in vines. From these vines came grapes, purple and plump. She reached out and picked one, plopping it into her mouth and rolling it over her tongue, poking holes in it with her teeth to let the juice run down her throat. The grape tasted sweet. Very, very sweet.

She finally had a friend. Her outlook on life had brightened considerably, as though the sun had come out from behind a cloud.

A sudden, blinding light made her jump and Aaron emerged from the trees behind her. There was something wrong about his presence. Normally, she would feel comforted by his presence; it was calm and safe, as though nothing could touch her. It was endearing, full of the same love she felt for him.

But his presence now...

It was very stiff. Like a smoldering fire, there was some subtle emotion there that she couldn't place. Annoyance, perhaps?

"Good morning, Kiethara," Aaron said like always. His tone matched his appearance, not one she had come to know. It wasn't calm or gracious; it was hard. And it had that same subtle edge to it, causing her to struggle with her reply a bit.

"Good morning, Aaron," she finally managed. She didn't know why she was nervous. She had no reason to be afraid.

"Kiethara, we must talk," Aaron said.

His voice was firm, as if he was going to lecture her. She couldn't think of anything that she had done wrong. It was very hard to be rebellious in the forest.

"About what?" she asked.

"Your visitor yesterday," he said.

Kiethara's expression turned from confusion to surprise, and then back to confusion. Navadar? There wasn't that much to discuss. She had questions she wanted to ask Aaron, but he had come to her. It wasn't as though he was a threat. He didn't even have any magic of his own!

"Why?" Kiethara asked.

"Kiethara," Aaron sighed. "You need to be careful. You had hardly any idea who he was when you let your guard down. There were many opportunities where he could have hurt you."

Kiethara became furious. Had Aaron been spying on her? She couldn't imagine how he could do that, what with his light, but Aaron was Aaron.

"But he didn't," she pointed out.

"But he could have," Aaron said. This just confused and annoyed her even further.

"And? He could have, but he didn't. I trust him. Trust is a good thing to have."

"Trust is a risky thing to have. Gandador could have enchanted the boy! He could be working for Gandador!" Aaron accused.

"He wasn't! He told me his kingdom hates Gandador! He doesn't even have any magic of his own! Why in the world would Gandador have any use of him?" she asked.

"For this very reason! You are defending a boy you have only spoken to for an hour. He has gained much of your trust. This makes me unhappy," Aaron said, crossing his arms. It looked slightly odd, because he was just a figure of light.

" _Unhappy?!_ Is that what you are? What you are is overprotective!" Kiethara accused. Her fists were clenched and her navy blue eyes were flaring.

"Kiethara, you know perfectly well why I am protective. The forest needs guarding, and you still have much to learn. If the forest falls, so does the power it holds! I will not let that happen, not over your trust in some boy," Aaron said. His voice was not just stiff, but furious. They had never had a fight like this before.

"This boy will not be the downfall of the forest. I can protect myself and this forest. I can defend myself against any attack. I am not weak!"

"You are letting these feelings towards this boy blind you. Now that you trust him, why would you continue to protect yourself? You seemed to let your guard down mighty quickly yesterday," Aaron pointed out.

"He was disarmed, and I was still watchful," she said.

"Not watchful enough," Aaron said.

Of course she wasn't! Everything she did was wrong! Everything she did could use improvement, or help! She was sick of it! Aaron seemed to expect her to be perfect; he had the nerve to become disgruntled at every misconduct. The stress and pressure of a whole world relying on her was beginning to become unbearable; a fifteen year old girl could only do so much.

"There is nothing wrong or dangerous about Navadar," she said in a final voice.

"You will not see him again," Aaron said, his voice was final as well. Even more.

The silence that followed was deafening. Even the animals were silent, as though they were holding their breath and listening to the conversation.

"You can't stop him from coming. He'll come back," Kiethara said, proud that the statement was true.

"And that is when you'll be sending him away and telling him not to return," Aaron explained. Her jaw dropped open in shock and fury.

"That would be rude."

"That would be the smart thing to do. You will do it," he declared.

"You can't control me," she snapped back. She knew she was being very uncouth, but she could care less at the moment. Now that she had a taste of the outside life, she wanted more.

"I am here to lead you in the right direction. I will not let my forest fall because of simple matters of disobedience."

"Your forest?" Kiethara asked in disbelief, daring to raise an eyebrow.

"Yes, my forest. I created it. Navadar's weakness will not be the end of it."

"Navadar has no magic of his own, and you act like he is plotting to destroy the forest!" she yelled.

"The better the illusion works. Gandador is not a fool. You, so young, would be appalled at the things he has done," he tried to explain.

"So young? According to what you have told me, I do more than any of the fools out there! I think I can handle it," she replied in an icy tone.

"Well, I believe otherwise. Some knowledge is still too much for a fifteen year old girl, despite what she has been through," he said. This only infuriated her even more.

"You never tell me anything!" she shouted back, and then it hit her.

"That's it, isn't it? It's not Navadar you don't trust, it's me," she said in a quiet voice.

"Don't be ridiculous, Kiethara. There are just somethings better left unsaid," Aaron said, his voice now calm.

"Well, Navadar will tell me! He told me Gandador had attacked the kingdoms. Why didn't you tell me that? Eh? Anything else you're hiding?"

"Yes, the boy will tell you unimportant details such as that. But you will talk too," said Aaron.

"What?" she asked.

"He will tell you more and more about his life, and you will become more enthralled and entangled with those useless facts. And in return you will tell him more about your life, about the forest. Information, if placed into the wrong hands, can be used against you," he told her in a hard tone. His words were piercing, cruel.

"I'm not going to tell him anything," she promised, though it sounded more like she was pleading.

"You told him plenty today. You even demonstrated some of your powers after you had only known him for a few minutes!" Aaron yelled at her in a booming voice, making her stumble back.

Kiethara looked up at him in alarm, her mouth open wide. So maybe she had been a little foolish, but still, nothing had happened! She could tell Navadar wasn't a bad person. She didn't tell him any secrets about the forest, and as far as she knew, there weren't any foremost secrets to tell.

"I showed him I could fly. I didn't show him anything Gandador doesn't know," she defended.

"Even if you don't directly tell him or show him your power, he could still pick a weakness out. He could slowly wean the truth out of you."

"You're talking rubbish! It amazes me how highly you think of me. You say you trust me, but your actions make me believe otherwise," she sneered.

"Kiethara, did you ever stop to consider the fact that you are thinking too highly of yourself? You have weaknesses, and more than you think," he snapped.

"Then why don't you tell me?!" she demanded, throwing her hands to the sky. She was tired of all these riddles Aaron kept throwing at her.

"It's better for you to understand your strengths rather than your weaknesses."

"Nonsense! I can't believe you would say that to defend yourself! It is dangerous for me not to know my own weaknesses! And if I don't even know them, how in the bloody world is Navadar going to find out?! There is no danger!"

"No danger? Kiethara, do you love your mother?" Aaron asked.

The question threw her off. Why was he asking her that? Of course, she loved her mother. Even if she couldn't remember her, the memories Aaron had shared with her had made her adore her mother. Her mother gave her very life to protect the forest and Kiethara herself!

"Of course," Kiethara answered. Her tone became soft, her fists unclenched, and her navy blue eyes were gentle.

"Are your feeling towards Navadar stronger?" he asked.

"Not at all."

"Then why would you gamble the fate of the forest for some boy when your mother gave her life to protect it?"

Once again, the forest was quiet and still, only Kiethara's pain to fill the silence. It showed on her face; it hung in the air. His words had been like a whip, degrading and vicious.

"That's not fair," she whispered.

"That is the truth, and nothing less," he replied. Kiethara opened her mouth to reply, but Aaron cut her off.

"I'm not going to argue with you anymore, Kiethara," His tone was final.

"Aaron..." she pleaded. Was it really that bad that she had a friend? That she was happy?

Instead of answering, he left.

Kiethara brought her fist back and slammed into one of the two trees that supported her hammock. Hot, angry tears rolled down her cheeks. They stung her face.

It was so unfair.

The one time her life isn't boring or—in her opinion—dangerous, she gets scolded for it. How was it possible that Aaron hated Navadar so much? There was no danger, there wasn't even magic. What did Aaron know that made him act this way? A better question, what was he not telling her?

It was obvious that he had been watching them. Could he not feel how normal Navadar was? How not a single spark of magic could be found in him? Gandador was far worse a threat, not to mention he would want to defeat her and burn down the forest himself, not use someone like Navadar to do it for him. She might not be strong enough to beat him yet, but that was why she had Aaron here with her.

Her heart pounded in her breast.

What if Aaron didn't come to help her? Her relationship with Navadar might just cost her the relationship she had with Aaron. She knew Aaron was far more important. She needed to train; she needed him in order to survive. Was it impossible to have them both?

She remembered his words about her mother. What would she have done? Would she have defended Kiethara? Or Aaron?

It didn't matter now. She had lost her battle, and she knew there would be consequences. The most painful of which would be sending Navadar away for good, wounding him without explanation.

Just like she was now.

**CHAPTER 5**

**APOLOGIES**

The next few days went by dreadfully slow and dreadfully quiet. Kiethara had never felt so alone in her life. The forest did not feel like the same forest she had come to know and love. Her surroundings now felt...unfamiliar. The trees seemed limp, the grass wasn't as green, and the rays of sun that filtered through the leaves seemed to be reducing. Even the animals seemed quieter than usual. This repeated day after day.

Silence.

Stillness.

Emptiness.

Her surroundings soon caused her to be depressed, for something great in the forest was missing. As though the heart of it had been sucked clean out. Its unnatural aspect became more subtle; her spark seemed more subtle. And nothing could replace it. The missing piece was a magnificent power that had come to love her as though he were her father, and nothing could fit into that empty void.

She was sitting in her hammock like always, her body in the seemingly dead forest but her mind elsewhere. She didn't enjoy this new path she was traveling now, one that was void of Aaron. All it had given her was an enemy with superior skills and a stranger from a foreign kingdom. She should have realized what she had before she gave it up—Aaron was indispensable, while everyone else would only come and go.

Kiethara fiddled with the locket around her neck. Say Gandador was using Navadar to destroy the forest. Maybe this had been his goal, to separate Aaron from her. That would have taken much wisdom, thought, and planning. Gandador was afraid of Aaron—that was why it had taken him twelve years to return. If this had been Gandador's plan, well, she had to admit it was smart. She sat there marveling the complexity of it, only one truly stunning factor that left her impressed:

It had worked.

She felt it. A cold fear spread slowly through her veins like a poison, her subconscious now embracing what it must have been avoiding before. Now it hit her hard, showing her the reality that was waiting for her behind the veil of denial. There was no way to avoid it now, and there was no way to change it. This unexpected turn in her twisted path would make each passing minute more of a struggle than she had ever faced.

Aaron was not with her. He had left her abandoned. Her training would stop; the pitiful strength she had now was the strength she would have to use for now on and, in her heart, she knew it wouldn't be enough. The forest would fall. So why did Aaron leave? He left because he thought she had been gambling the forest, but what did he think he was doing? She can't survive without her powers, and he knew that. He was sentencing her to death.

Perhaps she could train herself. Observe the enemy with a keen eye and watch for weaknesses, all the while relying on pure instinct to guide her through the rest.

No, it was no good, and Kiethara couldn't just keep pretending that this could work. She wasn't safe, and neither was the forest. Aaron had deserted her because she candidly flouted him for the first time.

The forest's fate seemed to be sealed.

And it was all her fault.

Low rumbles broke from the sky and lightning momentarily blinded her. Curious, she heaved herself out of her hammock and walked to the middle of her clearing, craning her neck up at the sky. Gruesome clouds were slowly churning and the wind howled mournfully, sending her waist long hair up in her face, obscuring her vision. But she didn't need her eyes to hear the crack of thunder that opened up the sky.

Heavy rain drops fell to the forest floor. They landed on her pale face, which was still pointed upward towards the stars. The rain soaked her before she could gasp.

Now, bitter tears mingled with the water from the sky. She relished in the slight sting each rain drop caused as it hit her cheeks. It distracted her from other pain, pain she wanted to banish forever. She closed her eyes and spread her arms wide, willing the storm to help her, or end her. She wanted the storm to answer her questions, and she didn't care if it was a whisper or a scream.

Kiethara didn't know how long she stood there. A minute, an hour, a day? She didn't want to know, really, now that time held no meaning.

It happened in a split second, too quick for her mind to process all of it. But what she did get was just enough.

Behind her eyelids a blinding flash shone through, so bright that for a moment she thought the sun had returned. However, the sound behind the noise wasn't far behind.

An earsplitting crash roared and ripped its way through the clouds. Gasping, she looked up at the sky; the clouds were now starting to split apart, letting in scattered rays of sunlight. That last strike of lightning and roll of thunder must have been the last of the storm's power. The storms dramatic exit; its lasting impression.

Yet the glow from the flash did not seem to fade. That couldn't be right, for the sun was not out enough to shine like that. Puzzled, Kiethara kicked off into the sky. She flew higher than the tallest tree, which gave her a view that never failed to stun her. From horizon to horizon the endless green spread, only interrupted by a lake or stream. Normally, it was a breathtaking sight. Today, however, what she saw was quite the contrary. She was surprised she managed to stay in the air.

Smoke was climbing into the sky about a mile away, twisting into the air, mixing with the thinning clouds. The dark gray of the smoke stained the patches of blue sky that managed to break free, coming out of the trees in tight puffs and expanding as it floated higher. Below the smoke Kiethara could make out orange-red flames devouring trees whole, licking up their bark with an indefatigable force. The heat of them could even be felt from where she was hovering and the smell wafting over made the inside of her mouth and nose burn. It smelled like exactly what it was: destruction. The slight wind blew the smoke towards her, causing her eyes to water. Below her, animals were running for their lives. They bolted through her clearing: squirrels, birds, deer, canines, panthers, cats. Even a small family of tigers crossed through her clearing. The smaller animals were easily overtaken and trampled by the larger animals, and their cries echoed loudly, each one holding the same thing in it: fear. Fear rang through the forest. It was clouding her vision and logic, and panic was spreading almost as fast as the fire was below. The animals trampled all her possessions in their rush; her blanket was torn and buried under paws and claws, her baskets were shredded as easily as if they were tearing through snow. Her berries were squashed. Not that it matter to her, they could easily be replaced, but lives could not. Of course, they would soon be pointless sacrifices if she didn't stop the fire from killing them all, and it was spreading. Fast.

Kiethara tore through the sky in the direction of the fire, so fast she soon realized she had come too close; the smoke was starting to blind and gag her and she was forced to propel herself back. Having no other option, she descended into the trees.

Her feet touched the ground. She broke into a sprint, swatting branches out of her way, listening to the crackle of the hot flames. It sounded as though it were laughing. The sound of it rang through the forest, mixing with the screams of the animals. They twirled together in the air just like the smoke contradicted with the sky.

Then, at last, the flames came into view. They were greedily licking up the trees, reaching their tongues toward her. The heat from them pooled Kiethara in sweat. Her navy blue eyes scanned the fire as an expression of helplessness twisted her face. How in the world was she supposed to stop them? If only it was still raining! Her clothes and skin were dry now, and she envied the cool, wet feeling the rain had brought her.

Kiethara shook her head—she had to stay focused. She didn't have water, but she could control the wind. She had gotten better at it since her fight with Gandador. If she blew against the fire, it would stop spreading.

Kiethara raised her arms. The crystals in her bracelets glowed brighter and brighter as she held tight to her fear, focusing on using that to direct the winds. With all her strength, she directed them to blow against the fire.

The fierce winds whipped her hair into her eyes, and she had to plant her feet firmly on the ground to prevent herself from being blown over. She let the winds die for a moment, brushing her hair out of her eyes to assess the result, but all she saw was burnt forest and bright flames. They had stopped burning in this direction, but they had just started spreading in a new one. Panting, Kiethara tried again, but no matter what direction she sent the wind, the flames did not grow any weaker.

She let her winds die again and lowered her arms. It wasn't working. Suddenly, the fire started racing in her direction again, faster than she had seen it ever go before. It threw her off guard and flooded her with fear, but before she knew it, the fire was only a mere ten feet away.

Then Kiethara was surrounded by a golden sphere. Inside the sphere the temperature was cool, the air was clean, and it emitted a reassuring magical light. The sound of the fire was muffled. Of course! Why hadn't she thought of it before? She certainly had enough fear to control the wind and a shield. And now with it, she could probably walk through the fire and not feel a thing! Although, she wasn't sure if she had the stomach to perform something like that. One slight distraction could cause it to disappear, and then she would be burned alive.

"Kiethara!"

Kiethara did not have to turn in order to know who had called out her name. She had memorized his voice the moment she had heard it.

There he was, on a beautiful buckskin horse. The horse's sleek black tail twisted in the fire-spreading wind, and its light beige coat shone brightly in the fire's flickering light. However, this was not what held her attention.

The horse's master was looking down at her, and in his forest green eyes were the same range of emotions that were shining in her own. Fear, panic, confusion; they was all present. His shaggy blond hair was already filled with soot and his slightly tan skin was once again tinted by the light emitting from her shield. He was wearing the same black leather boots, but he had a new tunic on. This one was blood red.

"Navadar!" Kiethara called back, her tone full of shock. She extended a hand towards him.

At that moment, the heat, the sounds, and the smell all came back to her. Suddenly, he was the one surrounded by a shield. With a gasp she sucked in a lot of hot air and ashes, causing her throat to burn and her eyes to water.

She didn't have time to fathom the mystery of her powers. She could figure this one out without Aaron as well. At that exact moment, she had wanted to protect him more then she had wanted to protect herself. Her powers bended under the will of her emotions.

"What?!" Navadar said, almost falling off of his horse. "No!"

His horse bucked underneath him, whether in response to the fire or the shield she did not know, but he managed to hold a firm grip. Despite the commotion, the shield stayed in place.

"Stay back!" she warned, turning back towards the fire, but keeping her hand extended towards Navadar. She needed to focus on the fire; the last thing she needed was the guilt of his death on her conscience for the rest of her life. Of course, Aaron would be pleased with that outcome. Kiethara shook her head sadly at the thought. No matter what Aaron said, she still thought he was wrong. Navadar was not a bad person.

As Kiethara really focused on the fire in front of her, she almost jumped back in shock. During the time of her distraction the fire had spread closer to her. Nearby trees were already in flames, only a few feet away.

With her free arm Kiethara summoned her powers. The crystals in her bracelets glowed, but there light was nothing compared to that of the fires. Again she attempted to push the fire back with wind, but it did nothing but halt its path of destruction. Desperation closed at her throat and, without realizing what she was doing, she brought her other arm forward to intensify her power. But the fire was too close, and she could not grasp it in time.

The tree on her left suddenly caught, blazing to life as red-orange flames licked up the bark. The tree seemed to turn from brown and green to black and orange in no less than a second. The tree made an odd creaking noise, then a loud crack, and suddenly all Kiethara could see was the white hot inferno falling towards her.

Then something slammed into her, sending her flying to the right.

Kiethara was on her back, gasping for air. Navadar was crouched over her, with either hand pressed down on the grass at the side of her face. It took her longer than it should have to realize that it had been Navadar who had knocked her aside. It had been his shoulder that had collided with her waist. Besides her, the tree came crashing to the ground, setting the grass ablaze.

Instinctively, her shield flew up around them.

The noises, the heat, the light, and the burning smell were all muffled, sending a jolt of relief through her body. The flames now burned all around them, but now they were safe, as long as she kept them surrounded in her golden safe house.

She frowned. She must have taken the shield off of Navadar without realizing it. Her lapse in concentration, at least, had allowed him to save her life. The forest was now in his debt. She was in his debt.

"Thanks," she said in a breathless voice.

"No problem," he said, a bit sarcastic. He jumped up and held his hand up. She took it, but before she could push her feet off the ground, he pulled her up effortlessly. Now on her feet, she surveyed the destruction around them.

It was painful to see the fire devouring the home to her and countless animals. Her winds weren't having the greatest affect, and she didn't know where the nearest water source was. Not that she could do anything with it. Aaron had not taught her that element yet. Pain twisted her gut as she realized that he never would.

That's when it hit her.

Using her power on just one side of the inferno wasn't enough. All it did was halt the fire from spreading a couple more feet for a moment or two. What about the other sides of the fire? Even if she found a way to stop all sides from spreading, she still had no idea how to put it out. One direction wasn't enough, or four. She needed to hit it everywhere. There was only one place she could do that.

The sky.

Kiethara looked up into Navadar's forest green eyes. He looked back, slightly confused. For a moment, she wondered what her face looked like to him.

"Stay here," she ordered, her voice as austere as possible. Navadar's lips pressed together in a hard line.

"You can't go out there," he said, grabbing her hand. His voice was just as stern. Kiethara sighed. She didn't want to argue.

"I have to go. Do you realize the consequences of the forest burning down? The world would be sent into chaos. Aaron..." she choked, unable to finish the thought.

"You could die." His voice was hard, but his eyes were sad.

"I don't really have a choice, do I?" she said, and then she twisted her wrist out of Navadar's grasp. Giving him one last glance, she prepared herself to fly, her shield disappeared.

The heat of the flames was intense. It pricked almost painfully at her skin, and the air was heavy and hot. She jumped into the air, replacing her shield around Navadar. She pushed herself through the ash and smoke, squinting at what she could she so far. A ways back was Navadar's horse. The horse looked petrified, yet it seemed to be determined to leave with its master. She made a quick oath in her head that the horse would leave with a rider on its back.

As she rose higher, the smoke devoured her like an angry beast. It blinded her and then gagged her, the smell burning her nose. She flew higher.

The smoke seemed to get denser, forcing her to close her eyes. If she didn't do this fast, she would suffocate. Her lungs ached already. Refocusing, she began to gather her powers, seeing her crystals getting brighter behind her lids. She let it build inside her, let the fear contaminate every thought. Her chest was soon heavy with it.

But would it be enough? She had never pushed her powers this far before and, between the shields she was generating and hovering in the sky, she didn't know how much she could do before something slipped. Did her power have a breaking point?

She released it all.

A wind fiercer then the winds of a tornado suddenly erupted, whipping at all sides of the conflagration below. It pushed it in on itself, cutting off its path for destruction as well as its fuel. Her power relentlessly flowed into the winds, giving them strength to push harder, to compact the heat as much as possible.

She could begin to feel her powers drain, and she was starting to panic. If she let go of the shield, he would die. If she couldn't stay up in the air until the fire was out, she would die. If she couldn't keep the winds going, the forest would burn. She began to lose altitude, her hands starting to shake as she scrambled to push herself up. Her winds began to fade as she slowly sunk towards the ground below her. She opened her eyes and took a breath without thinking twice about it.

Remaining smoke rushed into her throat, gagging her like a piece of cloth. It blinded her as well, and pain seared somewhere on her body. She lost all focus on Navadar, on her winds...and she lost the ability to stay in the air.

A swooping sensation filled her stomach as colors blurred past her tear-filled eyes. She could feel her body limp in the air. She had no strength, no power left to act. Her mind was fogged, as though it was filled with the smoke as well. Her arms were dead tools somewhere by her sides. They could do nothing but let gravity twist and turn them.

A light suddenly flashed and her eyes seared painfully. She had forgotten they were still open. The swooping sensation in her stomach dropped in intensity, and her arms were still for a moment. Was she still falling? Yes, she thought lazily, but not as fast. Whatever that light had been—it was probably the flames—it had resulted in her slowing down.

But instead of landing in flames, she hit the ground, hard. Pain ripped up her spine as her head smacked into the ground. The small breath she was able to take intensified the white hot pain that lashed at her consciousness, threatening to pull her under.

Around her, there was no blistering, heavy smoke. There was no sick crackling of the fire destroying the forest. The heat was gone, even though she could feel sweat matting down her hair to her face. The only sound she could hear, thank goodness, was thudding boots. Wait, thudding boots?

Kiethara gasped and then hissed as the pain intensified. How could she have forgotten Navadar? How would she have been able to live if she had known that right after he had saved her life she had snuffed out his? She refocused on the sound she was hearing and let relief swell through her. He must not be dead, after all. Unless it was Gandador.

"Kiethara!" Navadar yelled. His voice was filled with alarm and panic. It was close.

She tried to respond, but she was too weak. So she did have a breaking point after all. She couldn't even open her eyes!

"Kiethara!" he yelled again. This time it sounded very close, as though he was lying next to her.

This time she made more of an effort in her attempt to make a sound. She sucked in a small breath and let out a small moan.

She heard Navadar let out a sigh in relief, but she didn't care anymore. There was something else that grabbed her attention, something much more important. A blinding light lit up her eye lids. It warmed her, sending a feeling through her heart that was too rare for words. It was a light that she thought she would never be blinded by again.

"We need to get her to the lake," Aaron said. "I managed to slow her fall so nothing would break, but she is still injured, I'm afraid."

The sound of his voice opened up a new preserve of strength in her mind, allowing her to wheeze out the words that were necessary.

"I'm...sorry...Aaron." The words felt like knives running themselves up her throat.

"I accept your apology, Kiethara, but we need to get you to the lake as quickly as possible," he said.

Kiethara finally managed to open her eyes and she was once again provisionally blinded, but her eyes were quick to adjust this time.

They were standing in a huge clearing. Its size was not what sent a huge wave of shock through her, although that was an incredible factor. Everything was black. Few trees still stood, and even those were completely burnt and dead. Around them, ashes still swirled through the air. With eyes full of tears, she tried to pull herself up. She let out a pained cry and fell back to the ground. There was no way she could make it to the center of the forest, and she didn't have enough power left to fly.

"Should I...?" Navadar asked, unsure.

"Yes, but make haste," Aaron replied impatiently.

Kiethara was confused for a moment, but then strong arms lifted her off the dead ground. She groaned as he jostled her. She was surprised Aaron had consented to allow Navadar to even touch her. Kiethara internally sighed and let her head rest up against Navadar's chest. She was too weak to try to make sense of the situation.

They walked in silence, and she tried unsuccessfully to keep track of the time. Had an hour past? She couldn't tell, but Navadar's pace never slowed and Aaron's light never faded.

On they walked, and she lost any sense of direction. Her throat burned with every breath and her body ached in rhythm to Navadar's step. She was frightened by a dead sensation that had filled her after she had fallen out of the sky. Aaron had never explained what would happen to her if she lost all of her magic.

Finally, after what seemed like forever to her, his pace slowed and eventually stopped. She opened her eyes. They were in the center of the forest, the guardian's lake. She was surprised to find it still lush and green.

"Put her in the lake," Aaron instructed Navadar.

"In the lake?!" he asked.

"Yes, she will be fine."

Kiethara heard Navadar suck in his breath and step forward. This must all be alien to him, she reminded herself.

She felt him walk forward and heard the water splash as he walked deeper. He bent down—her injuries seared again—and he placed her in the water gently. She eagerly rolled into it, allowing herself to submerge.

The water was wonderfully cool and crisp. She let out a breath of relief and smiled as her pain faded momentarily. The affect was tremendous—the cool water soothed her burnt throat and the throb in her head ceased. The magic surrounding her brought her back to life. She shuddered as she realized how close to death she had really been, but now she was safe, and this thought comforted her as she slowly drifted to the bottom of the lake.

Kiethara didn't know how long she lay there, but she didn't care. She couldn't think of a reason why she would ever get up again.

Eventually, she opened her eyes. Navadar wouldn't leave until she resurfaced, and he needed to get home and find his horse. Plus, she really needed to talk to Aaron. With a deep breath she tried to pull herself up, using some hard surface next to her.

She was on the right side of the graveyard, facing the giant stone that held the essences of the elements. Curious, she looked down to see what she had used to pull herself up. With a yelp, she pulled her hand back as though it had burned her.

EARTHAPHORIA

LIVED FOR 35 YEARS.

" _OUR GREATEST GIFT IS LOVE"_

"How did I do today?" Kiethara whispered. Her eyes shone as she gazed down at her mother's grave.

"Just fine," a sweet voice answered.

Kiethara let out a loud gasp and jumped back, knocking into another tomb stone. The water cradled her fall, though, not allowing the old stone to cut her. She stared at her mother's grave with wide, shocked eyes. She must be crazy. Maybe the smoke had gotten to her head.

Something made her doubt both of those theories.

Kiethara ran her fingers through her waist long hair. She didn't want to think about her mother. Too much pain, too little strength. She needed to resurface before she started talking back to the disembodied voices.

She propelled herself up, wincing when her head broke the surface. The throbbing returned, and her throat seared again with every breath. However, it wasn't as bad as it had been, and for that she was grateful. Her eyes roamed until she found the two of them. They had stood facing each other, but now Navadar turned towards her. Right before that, Navadar had looked flustered and Aaron had the same cold atmosphere to him. Why couldn't Aaron just let him be? And what had they been talking about? She pondered this as she clambered unto dry ground.

"Kiethara!" he called, his voice filled with shock.

"Hello," she said as she stood, watching them look over her. She looked down at herself. One of her legs was badly bruised, and she could feel the bruises that were hidden by her dress. She must have landed on her side. Besides some other minor burns, she was still alive. That counted as a win in her book, considering everything.

"Are you alright?" Aaron asked.

"Fine," she replied with a wry smile.

"We need to talk," he said.

"He saved my life," she informed him, one step ahead.

"To gain you trust."

"He's not enchanted!" she said angrily. She tried to keep her quick temper in check. She didn't want to drive him off again.

"Not at the moment."

"Let's not have this discussion now," she pleaded.

Aaron finally relented. "Fine. Get some rest."

"Come on," she said to Navadar, motioning him to follow. He took his place at her side and they began to weave through the trees.

But then she turned. She needed a promise before she could even consider falling asleep. She couldn't live without it.

"Will you stay?" she begged. Desperation rang in her voice.

"I never left."

**CHAPTER 6**

**AFTERMATH**

Kiethara and Navadar walked together to her hammock. The sun was high in the midday sky. Could it really be only just after morning? Every step she took throbbed, reminding her of her very recent near death experience. The cut on her arm was starting to sting and the bruises on her skin were growing darker.

With her tired head held high, they weaved through the trees. No one spoke. She couldn't think of anything to break the silence. She was burning to know what had happened between Navadar and Aaron while she was in the lake, but afraid to ask.

Lightning.

Out of all the things in the world, she had almost been bested by a storm?! Could her luck get much worse? Out of everything that could destroy the forest, a simple act of nature came close to accomplishing the deed.

Of course, there was a reason. Aaron was back. Was this why the forest had caught? To bring Aaron back? If she still believed that everything happened for a reason, which she did, than maybe she shouldn't be too resentful of the flames.

"How did the fire start?" Navadar asked, bringing her out of her thoughts.

"Oh, um...lightning. A storm," she said.

"Lightning?" he asked in surprise.

"Yes," she mused. "Just my luck, eh?"

"Your luck can't be that bad," he argued.

"Really?" she challenged, raising an eyebrow. A smile played at her lips.

"It wasn't Gandador," he pointed out.

Still, out of everything, it felt degrading that it had been lightning. If there hadn't been a storm, she would be having pleasant conversations with Navadar in her clearing, not recovering from battle wounds with him.

"You don't look too convinced," he said.

"No, I am," she said quickly, adjusting her tone of voice.

"Good," Navadar replied, and they continued to walk in silence.

After what seemed like hours they reached Kiethara's clearing. Every muscle in her body was screaming its protest and the thought of drifting into a peaceful sleep in a swaying hammock was all she could think about. Despite this, when she stepped out from the thick trees and into her clearing, she wanted to turn around and hike her way back to Aaron.

Her pile was gone. Now that she thought of it, it shouldn't really come as a surprise; she had seen the animals tear up her belongings with her own two eyes. She felt a rush of relief as she realized her mother's locket was around her neck, instead of in the pile it would have been in. She refused to think the locket was safe because of Gandador's actions.

Her gaze flickered to her hammock and then to the horrific scene behind it.

Everything was black.

Half of the ring of trees that created her clearing were gone, and all those behind them. The smell of smoke tainted the air and burned her throat as she took in the rancid air. She stared in disbelief, wide eyed, at the horrendous miracle in front of her. Horrendous, because the burnt landscape resembled more of a nightmare than reality. A miracle, because if it had taken her a few more seconds to put out the fire, her clearing would be gone.

Kiethara took a few cautious steps forward, her aching body suddenly numb. She walked past her hammock and into the vast patch of burnt land that stretched for miles, freezing just before it as the sense of loss almost crippled her. For the first time in her life, she could look towards the horizon and see it without a single tree blocking her view.

Hesitantly, she took a slow step forward into the black expanse. Ashes blew up from the ground as her bare foot touched them and swirled around her. It didn't seem real. Here was her home, brought to dust. She shook her head to hold back the tears that threatened. She had to fix this. She couldn't leave the hideous wound there. How would she sleep with it lying just feet from her? Already she felt horribly vulnerable; open to the world around her. She wanted the confines of her trees back, shielding her.

"This is my brilliant luck?" she asked, throwing her hands up.

Navadar slowly walked towards her to take a place at her side, sending up ashes of his own. His beautiful eyes raked over the landscape before them as he let out a low whistle between his teeth.

"Lovely," Kiethara grumbled, a lump in her throat. She turned her back on the burnt trees. It was a relief to see the green, lush life on the other side—it even eased a bit of the pain. Tired, defeated, she walked over to her hammock and sat down, resting her head on the trunk of one of the two trees and closing her eyes.

"Sit," she mumbled tiredly to Navadar, who she hadn't heard move. She didn't want him standing in the ashes any longer, for some strange reason.

He sat in the open space. With her eyes closed, Kiethara heard the eerie silence behind her. There were no animals. The ones that used to fill her clearing with their music had moved far away from this area. It made her sad. How long until they would return? How long would it take her to treat the wicked wound? The prospect of restoring the vivid life that had once flourished seemed a mighty task. She didn't have much magic, or much energy. She felt weak and vulnerable. The forest was weak and vulnerable.

A spark of fear ignited in her stomach. If she were to be attacked now...Facing Gandador would be facing death itself. She couldn't imagine what he would do if he saw the forest like this. Smirk? Laugh? He would gloat, he would dance, and he would make it worse.

No, she couldn't think like this! She pushed the thought out of her mind.

"What were you and Aaron talking about while I was in the lake?" she asked in attempt to distract herself.

"Oh, um...He thanked me for saving you, and...er...I don't believe he trusts me," Navadar said in a guilty tone. Kiethara groaned.

"I figured he'd be a little more affable to you in person. He doesn't trust you because he thinks you're in league with Gandador," she snorted, opening her eyes so she could roll them.

"What?! That's ridiculous! I would never do something as...treacherous as that," Navadar exclaimed. He seemed to take her comment a bit more serious than she had intended this conversation to be.

"Well, I'm not really sure what Aaron thinks," she admitted. "He believes you could be...enchanted by him or something. Or if Gandador knew you were welcome here, he would use you, or hurt you..." Kiethara trailed off in horror.

How could she have not seen it before?! Was she really that blinded by her own wants and desires? She was putting Navadar in danger. Aaron, although his reasons might be different, was right to try to separate the two of them. Had she really expected them to stay together...be friends...under the given circumstances? She wouldn't be able to live with herself if he got hurt because of her. He had saved her life, and all the while she was endangering him. She couldn't let this last if he was at risk like this. Maybe once before, when she hadn't had a thing to fear. Now, though...what awful timing.

"Kiethara? What is it?" he asked worriedly, breaking her dark train of thought. He shook her arm to free her from her suddenly frozen position.

Her mind returning, Kiethara's wide navy blue eyes snapped up to his face. His golden skin looked so smooth. His blond hair was a mess on top of his head and his bright green eyes were alluring as they gazed at her in confusion. She was suddenly overwhelmed by an unfamiliar feeling. A feeling that brought a lump to her throat as she considered what she had to tell him. She looked away from him as she spoke.

"I'm putting you in danger, I realize," she whispered. "If Gandador found out that you knew me...well, it wouldn't be good for you. I can't let that happen. Not on my account. You're not...safe. Aaron is right. I...I just can't..."

The words hurt her more than she thought they would, yet she knew she must be doing the right thing.

She waited for his reaction. A gasp, an angry exclamation. She had expected him to jump up and accuse her of putting him in danger, to accuse her of not warning him when he first came here of what he was in for.

She waited, but it did not come.

Instead, he took her chin in his hand and turned her head so she was forced to meet his eyes.

"Nonsense," he murmured, but his voice was firm.

"Listen to me, please. You have no idea what he is capable of! He will use everything he can to bring the forest down! Including you!" she begged. He needed to listen to her! He still did not release her chin.

"I can take care of myself," Navadar told her in a sure tone. It reassured her for a second, but she shook off the feeling. It was only what she wanted to here; it had nothing to do with what she had to do.

"You can't fight off my enemies," she told him softly. "Not if they realize they could use you."

"I would die before I let Gandador, or anybody, use me to hurt you," he growled fiercely.

"No, you will not. I can't let that happen. You have a kingdom, a family, and probably many more people who care for you. They will not suffer a loss because of me," Kiethara growled in return. She wasn't going to relent.

"Well, I'm not so sure about that. My father and I aren't as close as we used to be," Navadar said, releasing her chin and looking away.

"Why?" she asked, and then bit her lip. She didn't want to pry.

"It's almost the same between you and Aaron," he explained. "Aaron doesn't trust me. You do, which is causing conflict between the two of you."

"Right..." she said warily.

"Well, my father doesn't trust you. I do," he continued.

"Why doesn't he trust me? He hasn't even met me!" she said in surprise.

"It's not the fact that he hasn't met you, Kiethara, it's what you use," he explained gently. "Redawn doesn't have a very high opinion of the forest, because we don't use magic. Call it prejudice, but we don't like to mingle with people who do. We think they're dangerous."

"I am," she agreed flatly. She glimpsed at the darkened horizon behind her. Navadar sighed.

"That's all nonsense, as I told you," he said.

"You do not know that. Gandador will do anything he can. Anything," Kiethara stressed once again. How many times would she have to say it until he would understand it?

"You worry too much," he teased. The tone was too light for the topic of discussion.

"I worry just enough," she sniffed.

"You need to stop worrying about me," he said.

"I worry about you to make up for your utter lack of self-preservation," she snapped.

"Be that as it may, you're not going to get rid of me," he promised. "Don't hurt yourself trying."

"I'm not going to be the one hurt," she mumbled under her breath.

"Why don't we talk about something else?" he suggested.

She frowned. He was persistent, or foolish. Yet she couldn't help feeling a tiny bit pleased at his persistence. She honestly didn't want him to leave.

"If you're staying..." she mused, pondering why saying that made her so happy. "Why don't you tell me about your family? Your mother, perhaps?"

"My...my mother's dead, actually," he admitted awkwardly.

"I'm sorry," she said after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

"That's okay. She died when I was young. I don't remember her too well," he whispered.

"I didn't know my mother either," she whispered back.

The silence that followed was not a comfortable one. Kiethara wished she could see his face, but it was turned away. She squirmed in the awkwardness, sorry she brought the subject up. If he hadn't wanted to leave before, he probably did now.

She opened her mouth about a dozen times to break the silence, but each time she closed it. What was she supposed to say? Her eyes began to droop as she fought to stay awake. She closed them and leaned her head back against the tree.

"I'm sorry," he said, and she opened her eyes again. She wasn't sure what exactly he was apologizing for. "You must be exhausted. I should go."

"No, I'm fine," she lied, sitting up a little straighter. She smiled.

"Come off it, you need rest," he said gently.

"All right," she agreed. Her head swam. "Only if you promise to come back soon,"

Oops. There went her resolve to keeping him safe.

"I won't let you down," he promised with a dazzling smile. He stood up, causing her hammock to rock unsteadily.

Caught off guard, and dead tired, Kiethara lost her balance with a gasp and toppled off. She landed flat on her back, her breath catching in her throat as pain rippled down her spin. With a gasp, Navadar pulled her to her feet.

"Blast it, I'm sorry!" he exclaimed. "Are you all right? I shouldn't have...I mean, that was so foolish..."

The pain was receding and her head was getting lighter. For some wild reason, she burst into laughter. She started laughing so hard she had to lean into Navadar to prevent herself from falling flat on her butt again.

"No, its fine!" she giggled. "I'm fine."

She tried to catch her breath as the gasps slowed. Navadar looked rather amused.

"Sorry," he repeated, but this time with a smile. He gripped her forearms tight as he set her upright. She smiled up at him.

"It's okay, really," she assured him.

"Why don't you get some sleep now?" he suggested, motioning towards her hammock.

"I will," she promised. "And so should you."

"Would you stop worrying about me?" he asked, exasperated.

"Nope."

"You're impossible," he said, shaking his head.

"It's getting late, though," she informed him. They both glanced at the sinking sun.

"I know," he sighed. He turned and started to walk towards the south. When he got to the edge of the trees he looked over his shoulder and flashed her a wide smile before disappearing into the trees.

Without hesitation Kiethara threw herself into her hammock. She had never felt this exhausted in her life. She could practically hear her body sigh in relief as she went limp between the folds of the deliciously soft cotton. Her mind was buzzing with her conversation with Navadar and, even though she would have loved to think things over, sleep gulped her up into its midst.

Kiethara woke up stiff—very, very stiff. She pulled her face out of the worn cloth and looked around her, squinting as the bright sun flashed in her groggy eyes. It was surprisingly high for the morning...which meant she had slept through the morning entirely. Its angle didn't make her surroundings any more cheery; in fact, the stretch of black ashes was slightly haunting. She could hardly believe that a few days ago, that area had been full of the lush life of thousands of trees. She couldn't tell which was worse: A healthy forest without Aaron, or a charred forest with his presence.

She closed her eyes against the sight and let her head fall back onto her hammock. She was too sore to even consider what had to be done today. Then, as soon as she started considering dropping off again, the air changed with what seemed an intangible shimmer and a chuckle sounded behind her.

"I'm glad you're awake," Aaron said.

Kiethara lifted her head again and opened her eyes. She was blinded once again by a much more potent light. Even in the state she was in, though, she was ecstatic to see him once more. She smiled—his presence gave her a strength that nothing else could.

"Just a little longer?" she pleaded.

"I'm afraid if you sleep any longer, night will fall," he commented. She moaned.

"All right, all right..." was her response as she sat up. Her head spun horribly.

When she finally managed to pull herself to her feet, the two of them headed off to the center of the forest. To her, it was a tender journey. Certain movements aggravated her bumps and bruises, which made her pace slower than usual. She longed to fly and made to do so, when something caught her attention. She gasped.

The crystals of her bracelets were dull. Usually, they always had a faint glow to them, which always intensified when she used her powers. Now, however, they looked dull and cold as rocks. Almost...dead. There was certainly no life, no energy to them that always radiated from the pair. Dark thoughts ran through her mind. Had she broken them, somehow? Had the fire damaged them? Did she even have magic to them? Her heart stuttered.

Next to her, Aaron laughed at her reaction.

"What?!" she demanded, holding out her arms in front of her. What could possibly be funny? "What's wrong with them?"

"It's only your reaction, Kiethara. Calm down, relax," he ordered.

"What's wrong with them?" she repeated.

"You have very little magic to your person right now, that's all. Once you regain some, they'll look as they always have."

"It doesn't look as if there's any left," she whispered.

"There is. Trust me—you'll be able to tell when you have no magic left," he warned her.

Needless to say, it was a relief to finally reach the center of the forest. She ran the last painful steps and threw herself bodily into the lake. Her relief intensified as the cool, crisp water engulfed her. Her mind went blank as her body went numb; she sank lazily to the bottom of the lake. She breathed the water easily, imagining it running down her smoked throat. She felt like she had roasted the skin there.

Enjoyable as it was, she knew Aaron was waiting for her beyond the surface and, as she had just gotten him back, she did not want to anger him further.

Breaking the surface was not as bad as she had feared. The headache returned, but not at the same magnitude. She clambered out of the water, happy to see a small glow to her crystals once again.

"I have a job for you," Aaron said as soon as she stood upright.

"A job?" she repeated.

"Yes..."

Aaron held up his hand and for the first time she realized he was holding something. It was a brown leather bag, seeming to be bulging with something that was emitting a green tinged glow. She took it from him with a look of puzzlement. It was surprisingly light.

"These are seeds," Aaron explained. "They are emitting light because they will grow into trees that create magic, as do all of the forest's trees. In simpler terms, they are pure. With these and only these, you will grow back the trees that have been permanently lost to the blaze."

"Oh!" Kiethara said. She understood her job now, and understood it gladly, for it meant she would no longer have to look at that ugly scene.

"What you are going to do is simple: just place a seed a few inches in the soil, and then use your power to grow the tree."

"Like I do any other day? Just...let it come up?" she asked, holding the bag in front of her nose to examine it more closely.

"Exactly."

"So does that mean that the trees I grow don't create magic like the forest's trees?"

"Right you are. When you grow foliage with your powers, using the earth element, it's only normal. It doesn't create magic. When you use these seeds, however, it will."

"Why?" she asked.

"To create magic something has to be pure. It has to be new, unstained. I'm not saying you're not good, Kiethara, but you aren't...pure enough. Nobody ever is, except for their few first days of life," he told her.

"Ah..." she agreed, although not fully sure she understood.

"I know your power is low, so I will help you. We really need the forest healed."

"You'll help me?" Kiethara asked.

"Of course," Aaron said easily, a smile in his voice. He held out his hand.

Kiethara stared at it in disbelief. He must mean something else. She could not recall a time where she had ever touched Aaron. She hadn't thought it was possible.

Yet her curiosity was kindled. What would it be like? He seemed to be made up only of light, which she had assumed was magic. Grabbing hold of magic, now that was something...

"Take my hand," Aaron said forcefully.

She took it.

The sensation was almost impossible to describe. When their hands made contact, Kiethara only felt a faint grip as her hand was enclosed in light. Then suddenly the grip tightened, and something shot up her arm and into her body like a jolt. It was almost like an up-wind; her waist long hair was blown up around her head, her white dress wrapped and flapped around her thin figure, and the bottles in her vine rattled. The crystals in her bracelet glowed as bright as Aaron's figure and then, suddenly, the grip released.

"Oh!" Kiethara exclaimed, overwhelmed. She felt strong, full of an energy she could barely contain. She felt as though she was going to burst with power.

"Get going," Aaron chuckled.

Her face splitting into a grin, she blasted off the ground and into the bright blue sky. She cleared the trees in less than a second, and she kept going. It felt so good to release the power! It felt new, thrumming, and _powerful_. The smile widened as she finally slowed in the warm air.

But her smile quickly faded as she looked below her at the forest.

From here, she could see the forest expanding from horizon to horizon's end. The forest stretched forever—she had never even seen its end. Now, however, the endless green was interrupted by a large blotch of black, which also reached a fair distance. Its size almost knocked her out of the sky, just as the sight of the actual fire almost had. But somehow, the aftermath seemed even worse.

When her feet landed softly on the burnt ground, ashes flew up. She coughed, igniting the inside of her throat. She was tired of all this burning.

Scowling, she opened the bag. The light was even greener inside. She reached and fingered a small seed, holding it up to her face, peering at the small thing. It was brown, yet somehow green...With a shrug, she dug a small hole and dropped it into the ground.

Its light disappeared as she covered it with soil. Frowning in concentration, she put her hand over the spot and released some magic.

A thick tree shot up out of nowhere, at an alarming speed. She wasn't expecting it to come so fast—she was thrown bodily back a good few feet, smearing herself in ash as she landed. She got up slowly, dazed. A fully grown tree stood tall and lone before her. How powerful was Aaron's magic?

She got to her feet with a sigh and looked at her work. All of a sudden, it hit her how much work she had to do. That tree didn't take up that much space, and she had a lot of area to cover...

Why did a forest have to have so many trees?

**CHAPTER 7**

**STORY**

The next few weeks were brutal. Her routine was as monotonous as it was simple: wake up, eat, work on the forest, eat, work on the forest, eat, and then start the whole thing again the next morning. Besides those few minutes to eat and the nights to rest, she did nothing else but grow tree after tree. The days were as long as they were tedious. It seemed that no matter how many trees she planted, there was always more to do.

Kiethara woke with a start from a very quire dream. Her clearing was once more full and lush, with animals chirping, braying, growling, and sighing from all sides. She no longer had to look upon the vicious wound, which made her mornings a little more bearable, even though she knew it was still there. There was definitely a brighter outlook to the burn, for Kiethara estimated that in a week or two, with consistent, hard work, it would be gone for good. That thought propelled her up from her hammock and to the north.

Hours later, she returned to her clearing, drenched in sweat and holding a considerably lighter bag. She threw it to the ground with a groan and fell into her hammock, closing her eyes against the sun.

"I need a break," she complained to herself. She didn't feel hungry, only thirsty. Suddenly, a very refreshing idea came to mind.

She rolled to her feet again and flew out of her clearing, barely having to look at the symbols that lead her northwest. Honestly, she had only needed them when she was young.

When Kiethara reached her lake, she had never seen a more welcoming sight. The lake shimmered under the hot sun, but was still as glass from the lack of wind. This lake was not like the guardians lake; there was nothing special about it. But the Spirit of Aaron did not let her use that lake for such mundane tasks as bathing and that was how she had come across this one.

She stripped off her sweaty garments, everything but her bracelets, which could not come off. She decided to keep her locket around her neck, as well. She jumped and pulled her knees to her chest before falling into the water with a quiet laugh as the water washed off the past hours of grime from her work. She broke the surface and took a deep breath, for unlike the guardian's lake, she could not breathe in this water.

Kiethara floated idly on the surface for several minutes, allowing her body to cool. Her mind was blissfully blank of anything, except, perhaps, how good the water felt.

Yet, a voice nagged at her that she had much work to be done. This was by no means helping her get it done. Each minute brought the issue closer to the center of her thoughts, and she knew that she would never find any real peace as long as she still had it hovering over her like a dreary cloud. It was almost torture, but she waded back over to the shore and pulled herself out of the water. She pushed her wet hair from her eyes, and suddenly she was looking into green.

Not green of the forest, but green of a pair of eyes. Navadar was standing just a few feet into the trees.

With a wild screech, she threw her hands over her front. It would have been more logical to just jump back into the water, but the idea was overcome by her panic. Kiethara saw Navadar's head snap in her direction.

_He wasn't even looking at me_ , she realized. Well, he was now.

Before she could figure out how to cover herself a little better, she caught sight of Navadar looking towards her with a confused expression. To her utter shock, he stepped forward into the clearing, narrowing his eyes and turning his head to the left and to the right, looking right past her.

"Kiethara?" Navadar called out, puzzled. His eyes kept searching, and suddenly they paused, gazing at something on the ground. Kiethara looked over to see her clothes on the ground. Navadar's face began to color.

Kiethara was no longer frozen in shock, but confusion. She looked down for an explanation as to why Navadar couldn't see her naked body.

Her body was gone. Instead of feet, she could only see grass. Yet she could still feel her body. She put her hand before her face, but her eyes saw nothing. She gasped and stumbled back. It proved difficult to walk without being able to see her limbs, and as a result, she fell back into the water with a splash.

Navadar's head whipped around towards the noise, scanning the lake. They rested on the center of the ripples, where she lay, somehow invisible, half submerged. The water curved around her figure, giving her a choppy outline, but she still remained transparent.

"Kiethara?" he asked again, but a bit quieter, almost wary.

"Hello," she said in a small voice.

"What...?" Navadar started to ask, and he didn't have to finish the sentence for her to understand what he was asking.

"I don't...know..." she said honestly, getting shakily up to her feet. "Maybe it... I..."

Kiethara walked slowly over to her garments, and avoiding Navadar, she reached down towards them.

As soon as her fingers made contact with the light material, it turned invisible too. She jumped back, holding the invisible fabric far away from her as though it was contaminated. She whimpered slightly—couldn't she ever have a normal encounter with this boy?

Feeling as though she were blind, she fumbled with her dress to find the right holes in which to put her body through. She turned back to Navadar, who was looking very awkward indeed, staring at the lake as if unsure where to look. She was sure that if she could see herself, she would look the same way.

She took another step forward and promptly tripped over a rock from not raising her foot high enough, arms flying out instinctively to catch her fall. Gritting her teeth, she pulled herself upright.

"Aaron!" she called in frustration.

In no time at all a blinding light filled the clearing, condensing to the figure of a man. As the light reached her, she sensed that he was highly amused.

"Yes, Kiethara?" he chuckled.

"You know perfectly well," she snapped.

"I suppose I do," he said. Kiethara let out a sigh of frustration.

"Why am I invisible?"

"Do you remember what I said about your emotions triggering your power? How they are interlinked?" he asked her.

"Of course," she replied indignantly. She never forgot what Aaron told her, knowing how important it always was.

"Well, the emotion you felt now—embarrassment, I believe—resulted in you becoming invisible," he explained. Navadar's red face got redder.

"But I didn't even know it was possible for me to become invisible!" she argued. "What element does that fall under?"

"What element does your shield fall under? Or your flying?" He asked.

Kiethara opened her mouth to retort, but as his words sunk in, she realized she had none. She had always thought magic was based on those elements. She had never given her flying a second thought, for it seemed so natural to her, and as for her shield...

"Well, my flying could come from wind..." she mumbled.

"Nice try, Kiethara. Your powers aren't limited to the fundamental elements, you must understand. Those simply are the basics, what is used to teach at first, and then as you acquire more skill, you learn to branch out from that."

"But—"

"Another time, Kiethara. I believe you have a guest," Aaron said pointedly.

Kiethara turned to look at Navadar, who was staring at Aaron.

"Can you tell me how to become visible again?" she pleaded.

"You need to be calm, for one. Then just picture your body," he explained.

Kiethara took a deep breath and pictured her body, clothes on and visible, especially her feet. Her crystals brightened, even though there was no source of the light to be seen. She closed her eyes, doing as he instructed, calming herself, focusing...Kiethara opened her eyes, and then sighed in relief as she caught sight of her toes.

"Thank you," she said reverently.

"You are welcome," he said. He paused for a minute, Kiethara reading into his suggested silence and looking quickly at Navadar. But Aaron made no comment as he walked away from them, his light soon fading into the trees.

"I-I'm sorry about that..." she stuttered to Navadar.

"Don't apologize, the fault is mine," he said firmly.

"Nonsense, I was just—"

"I should have called out, or something," he interrupted.

Kiethara reddened. She wanted this conversation to end, she wanted to crawl back into her hammock and shove the embarrassing feeling into the back of her head.

"Well, you did help me with my training. I didn't even know I could do that!"

"Yes, well..."Navadar mumbled, and she could tell that was not a suitable defense to justify what had happened.

"Er, let's walk," she suggested.

So together they set off away from the lake, both of them hoping they could leave the awkwardness behind them with the lake. A few painful beats of silence followed, until Navadar was brave enough to break it.

"Would you like to hear an old story from my kingdom?" he asked suddenly.

"I'd love to!" she answered, surprised.

"It's how our kingdom started. Well, how it is widely believed to be founded. Very few disagree; this story is told as bedtime stories for youngsters and even to the king in his own courts. It is recorded as our history.

"A thousand years ago, two men and one woman were roaming vast plains of green. The men's names were Lince and Narco, while the women bore the name of Kika. The three were good friends and had spent all their lives in the others company, until one thing separated them forever."

Navadar's words flowed smoothly, like a well-rehearsed chant. She was enthralled already. Kiethara was sure that, if she had been lying down, his slickly told tale would lull her to sleep.

"What was that?" she asked almost impatiently. He smiled.

"Love. After traveling so long with men, Kika yearned for something more than their tedious friendship. As Lince and Narco began to realize this, they did everything they could to win her heart. They showered her with flowers of the meadow and jewels of the sea. They drowned her with promises of clothes made of the finest silks, land to her name, and food from every corner of the world. There was nothing they didn't offer, but she saw through these things, and none would win her heavy heart, which was torn between the two.

"It became a competition and soon the friendship that had once been similar to the bonds of brotherhood dissolved between Lince and Narco. Fights broke out, nearly all of them dragged Kika into their midst. But still, as they shouted and traded blades, she would not choose. The two men were strained past their limits, and the consequences came to pass one fated day.

"It was as any other fight, where the woman was dragged into the middle. They both pleaded with her, begging for her with reasons why they were the more superior choice. When she just shook her head, tempers flared past any point they had reached in the past.

"It became physical. They lunged, sword drawn, at each other, forgetting the girl in between them. They almost crushed her as they fell upon her, blinded in fury. Her cry of pain was what made them come to common senses and they stopped in horror as they realized what they had done. The two of them carried her back to their camp and treated her for her injuries. When she woke, each man had something to say.

"Lince apologized over and over again with tears gushing down his cheeks. In pure character and humility, he showed her how disgusted he was with himself. Narco, however, did not do the same. Instead, he used their mistake to turn it against his former friend. He told Kika that Lince had fell upon her, that he had been the one who had lost his temper. He lied to her by telling her that he had pulled her out of the way and saved her life. She could not remember; she only looked between the two men in confusion. Lince did not fight back, because he realized the fighting had been what had hurt Kika in the beginning. Throwing his selfishness behind him, he gave up his pursuit of Kika, packed up his belongings, and left."

"Narco wasted no time. The next day, he proposed to her.

"But, to his utter bewilderment, she denied him. Lince's noble action had awed her so much that she understood where her heart truly lay. Leaving Narco dumbfounded, she pursued Lince, hoping to give him her heart. It took her a year to find him again, but she did in the end, finding him broken and lost. Needless to say, he became the happiest man in the world. They got married and built themselves a home, where Kika bared many healthy children. As their children grew, they developed the land around them. As farms expanded while houses and shops popped up, it became a small village. But this is not the end of our tale.

"Narco was stung by Kika's flight. He was wounded by his lose, and when news reached him of Lince's prosperity with Kika, he became enraged. He began to despise them both.

"One night, after a few drinks, he decided to set off towards the village that Kika and Lince had successfully wrought. It was late, and the village was sleeping. He took a torch and ran through the sleeping town, lighting everything he could on fire. He watched from a small, nearby hill as the flames engulfed roof after roof and screams began to break the night's silence. He laughed at the sight.

"Back in the village, Lince awoke. He shook Kika from her slumber, flames already burning their home. Together they ran out and screamed for the other villagers to do the same. As people realized what was happening, they fled in panic to the nearby fields. The surviving villagers watched in agony as all they loved burnt to ash.

"Narco sauntered down from his post towards the lamenting villagers with a hungry expression. The villagers parted silently as he made his way to where Lince and Kika stood. Anger boiled in Lince at the sight of the fiend; pain rippled through Kika. Narco grinned at their reactions and declared that in order for him to stop terrorizing them, Kika would have to return to him. Her reply to him was to take Lince's hand and spit at his feet.

"Enraged, Narco flew at her. Lince jumped in front of her and the two men collided once more. They separated, each drawing their blades. Kika shrieked and attempted to separate them, but one of her sons prevented her from interfering.

"Narco and Lince's battle became so fierce that sparks flew as their swords collided in the air. They dueled for hours. The men were equal in skill, driven by the same force: Kika. Human necessities were the only thing that could stop them.

"Both fighters were growing tired. Lince was finally able to take an upper hand, and Narco fell suddenly to the mercy of his sword.

"Yet...Lince could not muster up the courage to kill Narco. Even through all the years of hate and jealousy, he remembered once they had been as close as brothers. Instead, he left Narco wounded in the mud as he turned back to his villagers. He did not see Narco drag himself up from the ground, or pick up his sword, so he could do nothing to stop the sword that Narco pitched into the night.

"The blade of the sword drove itself into Lince's back. He fell to the mud, bleeding profusely."

Kiethara gasped.

"Kika screamed and pried herself from her son's grasp, throwing herself down upon her Lince. Her eldest son did nothing to stop her, because he was consumed with his own revenge. He picked up his father's sword and killed Narco with it.

"Meanwhile, Kika was listening to her husband's last words, tears streaming down her face. He whispered for her to rebuild the village, to continue with what they had created together. With his last breath, he proclaimed his love for her.

"After the entire village held a huge burial in his honor, Kika did exactly as Lince wished. Together the villagers rebuilt their homes from scratch. Kika named it 'Redawn,' meaning that there was light on the horizon and hope for a shining future."

Kiethara was could not think of anything to say—his story had blown her away. Why had she never heard a tale like this before?

"That was amazing," she said breathlessly.

"I thought you might enjoy it," he said with a superior grin.

"I've never heard anything like it!" she exclaimed. "Are there more?"

He looked at her for a moment from the corner of his eye as they walked. "You really haven't been around many people, have you?"

"Besides Gandador? No..." she frowned. She wondered if Aaron had any stories.

"Well, I would love to tell you some more, if we have time," he said regretfully.

"It's not that late," she protested.

"Well, let's see if you can give me the moral of the story," he challenged.

"The moral?" she asked. "Er...don't fall in love with your good friends?"

Navadar laughed so hard tears fell from his eyes. Kiethara smiled in spite of herself.

"No, but that was a good try."

"It's true!" she defended herself.

"I suppose so, but that's not the reason both men died," he disagreed.

"If she hadn't fallen in love with either of them, I'm sure the ending would have been a little happier."

"Yes, but suppose she had to fall in love with one of them. What were the men's mistakes?"

The question gave her some trouble. Obviously, Narco had made the most mistakes, but what was the moral? A few minutes went by.

"Revenge has its cost?" she answered timidly.

"Exactly."

**CHAPTER 8**

**TEMPER**

Kiethara was walking to the center of the forest, having been called their by Aaron. She was humming as she always did when she strolled leisurely through the trees. It was the same tune she hummed the previous days, yet she still didn't know where it came from. It annoyed her to no end, but she continued the rhythm as she walked.

In no time at all she reached the center of the forest. The surface of the lake shimmered beautifully in the full sun, smiling up at the perfect sky. She plopped herself down into the grass and waited patiently.

Not long after she had sat down he came and she rose back to her feet. He was in his usual calm mood.

"Hello, Kiethara," he greeted her.

"Hello, Aaron," she replied promptly.

"I believe it's not hard to guess our agenda for today. Though I must warn you that this lesson will be a little impromptu, for I had not expected you to accomplish this as quickly as you have. Invisibility is quite useful, but it isn't full proof. Not to mention, it will take much patience, power, and practice to perfect," he explained.

"Then how was I able to do it yesterday?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "If it's supposed to be so difficult?"

"I think it was the shock of how powerful the emotion you felt was what triggered your power to act."

"So what does that mean? I have to experience some overwhelming emotion to use my magic? That every time I want to use my shield my hands have to be shaking and every time I have to become invisible my cheeks have to be scarlet?" she cried, exasperated.

"Of course not," he said coolly, unruffled by her response. "When you first use a new skill you need a powerful emotion to use it, but the more you become practiced at it, the less of the emotion you need. You have to train your body and powers how to do something with as much guidance as possible at first, that guidance being your emotion, but as time goes on, you know it so well that you don't need as much emotion to tell your powers what to do. Does your shield give you any more trouble?"

"Not exactly..." she admitted. "But I still need a memory to hold it."

"Soon you will be able to use it without the memory at all."

Kiethara mumbled, unconvinced.

"Don't give up on your abilities, Kiethara," Aaron said sternly. Then he sighed. "You are such a close semblance to your mother."

"My mother?" she blinked.

"You look exactly like her, your facial expressions, your hair. Almost everything, except for your eyes..."

"My eyes?" Kiethara asked.

"Forget it," he said too quickly. "Your mother had blue eyes to."

Right then and there a curious thought struck her, a thought that had never really crossed her mind before this point. What was the most unnerving was the fact that she hadn't thought of it before. How could she not? Was she really that naïve?

"Who was my father?" she demanded.

A father. How come she had never imagined a father, never questioned who he was? All her life, Kiethara had only considered two people in her life as family, Aaron and her mother, both of whom were dead.

"You don't have a father," he said almost rudely.

"I'm not a fool!" she said indignantly. "Of course I do, I have to!"

"How do you know? Do you, a guardian, think the normal rules apply to you?"

"So what your saying is I'm a...a freak of nature?" she asked, raising her voice.

"Control your temper, Kiethara!" Aaron warned. Only until after she unclenched her fists did he continue.

"I did not say you were a freak of nature."

"You implied it," Kiethara said in a restrained voice.

"I did no such thing. Now we will cease with this absurd argument and continue with your training," Aaron ordered in a stern and final voice. Kiethara recognized that she had been defeated.

"As I was saying before," he continued, stressing his voice a little. "Your strong emotion is what caused you to become invisible. If you can conjure the same emotion, you will receive the same result."

Kiethara sighed and closed her eyes. She conjured up the memory, cringing as she ran over the details. She embraced the embarrassment, however, and focused on becoming invisible.

After a moment of what she thought was considerable concentration, she opened her eyes. The embarrassment was quickly replaced by disappointment when she caught sight of her feet. She looked at Aaron with questions in her eyes.

"I didn't expect you to get it the first time," he told her. She snorted.

"Glad you have so much faith in me," she muttered sarcastically. It was Aaron's turn to sigh.

"Why couldn't I do it? I got my shield down right away," she complained.

"You shield was very basic, for it involved a simpler emotion. This is a little more complex," he explained.

"If my shield was basic, why didn't I learn it sooner?"

"Because you had nothing to fear," Aaron answered simply. She nodded.

"Let's try it again."

This time the memory came easier to her than it had before. She remembered whipping her hair out of her eyes and spotting Navadar. His face had sent a strange, crawling feeling through her torso. She could remember the details easily; however, she could not say the same for the emotions. It was a bit of a struggle to replicate the clenching of her stomach and the burning of the blood rushing to her face. But she willed herself to feel it...it came to her a bit more clearly...her hope raised...her crystals grew brighter...

She looked down and saw her feet clear as ever.

The only thing that had changed was that a white rose had bloomed between her feet. Its petals were not completely unfolded, as though it had frozen halfway through blooming. With a lazy wave of her hand she helped the rose complete its task.

"I should have just stayed invisible," Kiethara moaned. Aaron chuckled.

"Again," he ordered.

The training went on for hours without a break. Every time she conjured the key memory with the key emotion, it would slip away and she would fail. As the day wore on, her temper and temperature rose. These two things did not suit well in a combination, so when Aaron finally dismissed her, she was literally simmering in heat and frustration.

Kiethara stomped through the forest in her agitation. Why had she failed so miserably? She had done it once before, why could she not do it again? Never had she had such a disastrous lesson as that one. Her thoughts traveled down this murky path as she plopped into her hammock and grew herself something to eat.

She greedily devoured the strawberries, hungry from her days work. They cooled her down, too, and relaxed her, so she was able to take a deep breath. She tried to look at her failure from a different point of view for a moment. Aaron had warned her that it was complicated and that he hadn't expected much. Still, she wanted to have accomplished something today. Now the day felt like an entire waste.

Well, except for the conversation about her father.

She highly doubted what Aaron said, that she didn't have a father. How could she not? Sure, Aaron's words sparked his own form of doubt, which only stressed her further. His words and her suspicion started their own raging war, with neither side making any advances.

But who had her mother fallen in love with? That was an intriguing thought. Of course, her mother would have had to have fallen in love with a sweetheart. The number of things Aaron had told her about her mother all led to the same conclusion: she was the most empathetic person there was. She would have only loved someone of equal value.

She needed something to do, something to distract her from her tangled thoughts. Perhaps a little hard work would be the perfect remedy for that.

She grabbed the brown bag and flew over to where she had left off in healing the forest's great wound. To her great pleasure, the area that had been burnt was shrinking every day.

She smiled at the thought as she took a seed out of the bag, which was becoming lighter and lighter. By the look of things, she didn't think the seeds would last for the area she still had left...would Aaron be able to refill it? She dropped the seed to the ground and watched as a fully grown cedar took its place. The red bark and emerald leaves were so magnificent that Kiethara took a step back to marvel at her work.

Her marveling was interrupted.

A fierce, hot grip grabbed her wrist, spinning her around. It grabbed her other wrist, too, together pinning her to the tree she had just brought to life. Fear spiked through her blood, which had run cold, at the sight of the man who had her.

He was a young man, though his face was angular, all boyish features lost long ago. His thin lips were pulled against his white teeth in a sneer; his skin was very tan, a severe contrast to her own skin. Sleek black hair was pulled back by a strong blade of grass, yet it still ran down the length of his back. His most alarming feature, though, were his eyes. One of them was a light brown and the other was a murky blue. Unlike Gandador's eyes, which resembled empty pits, they were shallow and beady, narrowed in dislike. Kiethara shrank underneath their gaze, which stood almost two feet above her head.

The attacker's tall body was lean and slightly muscular, clothed in baggy, faded brown trousers, which played host to two red belts wrapped around his lean waste. Attached to both were two small daggers. She took them in with wide eyes before looking back up at his face.

"So this is the famous guardian?" he asked with a laugh. She didn't know how to respond to that.

"He was right, you do look something like your mother," he mused. "Shame the same pretty face has to die twice."

"Who are you?" she finally asked, outraged by his words. Her anger unfroze her.

"Sinsenta," he said, dripping the name with overdone pride and arrogance. "I work for Gandador."

Reality crashed down on her as his words sank in. She glared at Sinsenta, furiously aware of their position. She was all too sensitive to his hot grip on her wrists, how uncomfortable the proximity of their close bodies were, how she was at his mercy. She hated it, and she wanted out. She was too bewildered to use her magic, so she brought her knee up between his legs.

Sinsenta doubled over in pain. His hands released Kiethara and without another thought she took off into the forest without looking back. As she ran back to the cover of the healthy trees she took a great leap and soared up, climbing until she was a few feet over the tree tops.

In the air, Kiethara was able to take a minute to clear her mind. She had known something of the sort would happen eventually, but why was Gandador acting so quickly? Did this mean he considered her a larger threat than she thought, or he was growing impatient?

"You can't out-fly me," a rough voice from behind her called. Kiethara looked over her shoulder.

Sinsenta was flying right behind her.

The shock of the image hit her full in the face. Flying, which was second nature to her, had never been a problem. But someone else sharing the sky with her was so much that she fell right out of the sky. Kiethara made contact with the highest branch of a tall pine, continuing on to the forest floor. The branches slowed her fall, and she finally landed with a thud on her stomach, the air coming out of her lungs with a whoosh. She moaned and pushed herself of her side, sucking in great gulps of air. Sinsenta landed a few feet away with a mocking grin and laughter in his strange eyes.

"Did you honestly think you were the only one who could fly?" he asked.

Still dazed and desperate to get away, she jumped back into the air. She pushed herself faster, knowing she would be pursued. She didn't take the time to check behind her, to see how fast he could go. She shook her head. Never had the thought crossed her mind that someone besides her could fly; however, she knew that he, unlike her, did not have an unlimited supply of magic. He couldn't fly forever.

Suddenly, the same hot, fierce grip grabbed her ankle. She yelped and swiveled in the sky, only to see his nasty sneer playing on his face. He began dragging her back, using his other hand to continue to reach up and grab hold. She gasped and kicked him in the face with her other leg. He hissed and struggled to keep his grip as she kicked at him again. They began sinking before she kicked free and blasted toward the ground. If she couldn't out fly him, she could certainly out run him.

Her feet touched on the soft grass for only a moment before she took off. There was no time to think. Instead, she concentrated on dodging the oncoming trees. This time, she decided to risk a glance behind her to see where the monster was. He leaned forward as he ran and his large, bare feet crunched loudly against the twigs that Kiethara avoided effortlessly. She saw that he had unsheathed his two daggers.

Kiethara turned back around and pushed herself harder. Her muscles began to burn steadily, but Sinsenta's long legs were gaining—she could not stop. Still, it wasn't long before he was only feet behind her.

She noticed that the landscape around them was changing. She was in an area of the forest she had never ventured before. She had never felt the need to venture from her common radius around the center of the forest. She had everything she needed, why wander into more trees? But there were more than just trees here; large rocks scattered the ground and a gurgling of water could be heard. She leapt over the rocks with ease, hoping they would do more to hinder Sinsenta.

Kiethara became desperate for an escape. She took a sharp left, almost hitting a small tree. She had to stumble to avoid running smack into it and the small miscounting made her lose what slim lead she had had. So she stopped in defeat, the only sound in the forest her labored breathing and the gurgling of a stream nearby. She turned to face Sinsenta, a small plan forming in her mind...Would it work?

"I told you running was pointless," Sinsenta sighed.

"You were right," Kiethara agreed. "But that's not the only way to get away from you."

She took off towards the gurgling sound of the stream. She didn't have to look back to know he was right behind her, so she pushed her feet harder against the loose soil and tuffs of grass. The stream should be close by...yet doubt plagued her as the seconds slugged by.

Her concentration was broken as Sinsenta suddenly leapt out at her from the right and ran the tip of his dagger down her arm. Like the trail of a snail, blood followed the tip of the dagger until it covered her arm and trickled down her fingers. She watched it for a moment with wide eyes before she began to feel it.

Kiethara let out a bloodcurdling scream. She fell to the ground in agony, clutching her arm as even more blood pulsed out of it. Out of the corner of her eye she could just see Sinsenta wiping his knife with his fingers and gloating down at her.

Kiethara ignored him. Instead, she reached down to her vine belt and pulled out one of the corked bottles with her left arm. Inside this bottle was sparkling silver liquid; it looked as though storm clouds had been melted to swirl angrily inside the glass vial. She carefully pulled the cork out with her teeth, the small pop causing the pain in her arm to flare atrociously. She moaned aloud.

"What are you doing?" he asked suddenly. He sounded nervous.

"Watch," she growled.

Kiethara began to drizzle the potion onto her wound. She ran it down the scarlet line, hissing as the potion made contact with her open flesh. Scarlet was now mixed with silver, and Kiethara watched the two trickle down her flesh as she emptied the bottle out.

She held her breath as her concoction started to work its magic. Her skin slowly began to pull itself together as a sharp pain paralyzed her arm. It felt as though her arm was on fire, but there was nothing she could do about it. All she could do was close her eyes and wait the moment out. As it began to fizzle out, the pain subsided, and she was able to flex her muscles and move her arm. The potion had done its work.

Kiethara gingerly lifted it up and down. When no pain came in response, a small smile lit her face in relief. She took her other hand and whipped the hot, wet blood off of her extremely pale skin. The loss of blood had given it almost a sickly pallor, but as she removed the gore, she saw something else.

Beneath it was a long, dark pink, angry scar that ran from her wrist, where her bracelet ended, and stopped just a couple of inches from the short sleeve of her dress.

Her eyes widened as she fixed upon it. It was fierce and as obvious as it was ugly, and she hated it.

White hot anger boiled inside of her. It bubbled to the near surface, and she grinded her teeth against it. It was so close to the edge, but some logical part of her mind kept it just under control. But only just.

"How did you do that?" Sinsenta snapped. Kiethara looked up at him. He was wearing a slightly awed expression that took her off guard for a second. Surely his magic was more powerful than that, even if his was limited?

Sinsenta suddenly grabbed her arm, so quick that she hadn't been able to react. He pulled it towards him and probed it with his long, thin fingers. His hot touch was the little nudge her anger needed. It boiled up, hotter than before.

It was released...and unrelenting.

"Let...me...GO!" she screeched, yanking her arm from his grip. She brought her foot back and kicked him hard in the stomach.

Sinsenta's breath came out in a small grunt of pain, but he didn't move back any. Furious, she aimed another kick at him, but this time he caught her foot in his grasp. His touch acted as fuel to the hot anger burning inside her, and it pumped through her veins. Kiethara twisted her ankle out of his hands as her crystals began to glow.

Vines started to snake their way up from the ground. They twisted around his foot and started to work their way up his long limbs in a silent, slithering motion. They made their way up to his knees, growing thicker with each passing second, before he noticed.

Only then did he realize his silent imprisonment. He gave a startled cry and started pulling at them with his hands, fear now more prominent on his face than it had been at any other time. She wrapped them thicker, all too aware he was at her mercy now.

"It's useless," she told him as the vines started to twirl up his left hand. "Time to get a taste of your own medicine."

She really had no idea what she was going to do with him. All she really wanted was his fear, his horror, and perhaps a little bit of his pain. Something to quench the anger inside her, to drive him out of the forest. He deserved a scar of his own. Kiethara rose and took a step toward Sinsenta, who was still struggling with his bonds so much that his dagger fell from its sheath. His face flickered up at it with an angry expression—and then he smiled.

"What—" Kiethara began to ask, but she realized what was going on before she could finish.

Sinsenta's free hand had reached down to pick up the dagger that had fallen free. In one fluid movement it was cutting through all the vines that had been holding him, sending them to the forest floor. Before she could even blink, a heavy weight threw her back and slammed her into the ground. Kiethara landed flat on her back, skidding to a halt. She had no time to catch her breath before he was upon her again. He pressed his knees down on her legs and grabbed her wrists, crossing them across her chest. Kiethara yelled and pushed against his hold, but to no avail. She couldn't move an inch.

She was trapped.

"Taste of my own medicine? I have to admit, that sounds a little dark for you," Sinsenta commented, looking down at her with wicked eyes. Kiethara thrashed harder against his weight, anger burning like a fire that had no way to spread.

"It's useless,'" he repeated with a laugh. "Well, now you're at my mercy, aren't you? What should I do with you first?"

"You're not just going to kill me? Get on with your day?" she spat.

"I wasn't going to kill you in the first place. I was just ordered to capture you and burn down the forest...Which reminds me," he said suddenly. "Why was some of the forest already burned?"

"Like I would tell you," she hissed.

"Like you have a choice," he repeated calmly, tightening his grip on her.

"Do your worst," she challenged. It was his turn to scowl.

"You're as pathetic as your mother," said Sinsenta. "You both thought you had a chance. As you can see, your mother turned out to be wrong, too."

"My mother was not pathetic! She could have killed you easily," Kiethara told him, raising her voice.

"She was weak," he mocked. "Gandador took her with ease."

"SHUT UP!" Kiethara yelled. Anger overwhelmed her; she was blinded by hot, fresh tears. Her hands clenched together, shaking as they raised themselves a couple inches off her chest.

"Never tell your enemies what they want," he informed her. "They will do the exact opposite."

Her teeth clenched in response.

"Your mother was arrogant," Sinsenta continued. "She was blind to anything but her precious little forest. Even blind to you."

Kiethara, even though she knew it was useless, thrashed harder against his weight in her fury. Sinsenta leaned down towards her face until their foreheads were almost touching; his hot breath tickled her neck. He shifted his weight, holding her tighter. Every part of her body screamed in protest.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" he laughed. "But before I get off you, I'd like some information. Information I don't think you'll give me once I have you tied up."

"Never tell your enemies what you want," she repeated with a snarl. He laughed, blowing more of his hot, sticky breath in her face.

"That's true," he smiled. "Got some wit to you, now, don't you? A bit smarter than your mother, I'll tell you that. Not that that counts for much—she was a fool."

"My mother was not a fool!" she yelled with venom in her voice.

"Yes she was. It was amazing she managed to protect the forest for so long. All she did was make mistakes. You were one of them."

"STOP!" Kiethara yelled, anger shooting through her so fast it was almost painful.

"Well, look where you are now!" he reasoned. "At my mercy, about to die. Once you do, the forest will be gone. The forest was better off without your mother."

A cry of despair and frustration rang through the forest as she thrashed against him.

"If your mother hadn't awakened the Spirit of Aaron, none of this would be here. That's how pathetic she was! The dead had to make up for her mistakes! And he's another fool, too."

The last insult pushed her over some edge she had never seen before. Some boundary was crossed that overwhelmed her with furious rage, rage that seemed to expand inside her. Her crystals grew brighter and brighter and the fierce light brought out the details of Sinsenta's face, throwing his blue and brown eye into perspective. They looked at her with cold amusement. The sight of his enjoyment sent her anger mounting in such a way that she couldn't hold it anymore.

Her hands burst into flames.

The heat from the flames that licked harmlessly at the skin of her hands was astonishing. Her face seemed to burn as she pulled her head as far away from her hands as possible and pushed her hands as far away from her chest as her strength allowed.

Kiethara was then deafened by a harsh, painful cry in her ears. All the other sounds of the forest were drowned out as this scream of agony ripped through the trees. The weight that had been holding her down disappeared and suddenly she was able to hold her hands away from her body, seeking relief from the heat. As she took a deep breath, the flames began to shrink.

Kiethara pulled herself to a sitting position, searching for where he had gone.

She hadn't realized that the shrieks of pain and agony were still continuing. He was bent over on his knees, with his hands over his face. At first, she was confused, but as he moved his hands away, Kiethara understood. Her stomach clenched.

The lower half of his face—his lips, his chin, and part of his cheek—was burnt. Blood was dribbling down his chin. The top layer of skin was pink, but it was curling and peeling back to reveal an even darker layer underneath. Kiethara sat there, frozen and disgusted, as Sinsenta let loose another howl of torture. Blood continued to trail down his chin and, as Sinsenta looked up at her with half crazed eyes, she understood what he was trying to tell her. Her stomach dropped as she swallowed back bile. Sinsenta was very clear: _I hate you._

The message was as clear as a dagger in the skin was. She looked at him with a mixture of emotions, cringing away from the man in front of her, overwhelmed with pain. Pain that she had caused...She felt no remorse. This is what he got for insulting everything she held dear, for arrogantly claiming his victory before the battle had been fought... She felt sick for partially enjoying the sight before her. Her stomach turned, she wanted to stop watching, but every muscle in her body was locked into place.

Sinsenta managed one last glare before he disappeared, vanishing as suddenly as Gandador had.

It took Kiethara quite a while before she was able to move. She got up slowly, stumbling forward, walking through unfamiliar forest. She didn't know where she was, and there were no carved symbols to guide her...What would she do now? How would she get back? Her thoughts were suddenly slow and fuzzed. Kiethara shook her head in attempt to clear it, but nothing changed. She felt as though...she knew the answer...she clenched her fists in aggravation...The light-headed feeling grew more powerful with every step she took.

Kiethara collapsed onto the forest floor.

**CHAPTER 9**

**FIRE**

In some small space in her mind, in one tiny corner of her consciousness, Kiethara was faintly aware of the blackness that surrounded her. It wasn't tight against her, or closely packed. It wasn't as if she were...she were trapped in it. Actually, it was quite the opposite. Instead of being trapped in this blanket of blackness, she was free. This blackness seemed to stretch on forever. It let her mind stretch far beyond its normal reach; it was not a pleasant feeling. She felt horribly uncovered, like an exposed nerve ending. Her thoughts began to fly farther and farther away from her, getting lost in this darkness. And it seemed the farther they got away from her, her awareness grew more and more faint. They threatened to leave her forever and cast her away from whatever she were desperately clinging to. Dull fear grew inside her as the blackness grew darker still.

Yet, as she slowly lost her grip on her mind and her awareness, something grabbed hold of her. The fear vanished as this something brought some of the thoughts that had run wild back to her. It seemed to strengthen her a bit.

"Kiethara," a sweet voice called.

Her mother's voice.

Kiethara was suddenly filled with a stream of dull, weak emotions. She wanted nothing more than to shout out to her mother, to tell her that she was here, in the darkness. But she realized that she couldn't find her lips, so the same dull fear flickered through her, but for different reasons. Was the black surrounding her making her crazy? Or was it killing her, and she was simply being reunited with her mother? This made her feel sad. Had she really died, then? Had she failed to protect her forest? She had a small desire to cry, but she had forgotten how...

Hardly any time had passed before these thoughts slipped away from her mind and into whatever lay beyond. They left no trace of their presence, no memory of what had happened. The only thing that remained was the sound of her mother's voice, ringing out in the vast, never ending space.

There was nothing she could do but float. With every passing moment, the tiny corner of her consciousness grew smaller and smaller as the darkness seemed to expand. Her thoughts grew fainter, like a light that was dimming. Dimming until she could barely make it out...

Then a different voice called out through the blackness. This voice was very sharp, very clear, and very strong. It seemed to emit strength. As soon as Kiethara heard this voice, her thoughts came rushing back to her as though she had called them back, her awareness grew more pronounced. The surprise she felt was the strongest emotion she had felt since she lost her temper...her temper...The words brought back dim memories of what had happened. At the same time, her senses came back to her—her hearing, her smell, her feeling...they all seemed to come back with strength.

"Kiethara," Aaron called again, sounding anxious.

Kiethara was suddenly aware of her body. Her back was laying on something soft and cool. Something warm was brushing against her skin as her hair was pulling gently from her skull in a slight breeze. Her mouth was dry and a bead of sweat rolled down her forehead.

Yet she still couldn't see. That fact annoyed her very much and, then, it didn't take her long to locate her eyelids. She pulled them open.

The first thing she saw was a blinding light. Her eyes watered as they slowly adjusted until she could make out a figure leaning over her. It was the Spirit of Aaron. His light lit up the clearing around her, which looked familiar...

Her eyes widened in shock as she realized where she was. She was in her clearing. How did she get here? Did Aaron bring her here? Could he? The last thing she could remember was collapsing onto the floor of unfamiliar forest.

"Kiethara," Aaron breathed in relief.

Kiethara tried to lift her head, but as soon as she tried an overwhelming wave of vertigo washed over her. Slowly, she laid her head back down with a soft moan. It took her another long moment to realize she was lying in her hammock.

"Be careful," he warned. "You've lost a lot of blood."

It took Kiethara a long while to get her thoughts in order before she could give him any type of answer. "What happened?" she asked in a hoarse voice.

"After you...attacked Sinsenta, you fainted because of the blood you had lost when he cut you. You also might have been a little beleaguered from performing an element entirely new to you," Aaron answered.

Even that small piece of information had Kiethara working rather hard to keep up. Her head throbbed with the effort and, by the time she thought up another question to ask him, she felt mentally exhausted.

"I didn't know you could faint from using a new element. Will it happen a lot?" Kiethara asked, her eyebrows pulling together.

"What really made you faint was the way things happened," he explained. "You were wounded greatly and Sinsenta drew a very powerful response out of you. You didn't expel a lot of magic, but it was a very powerful bit of magic for you."

"Mm," she whispered, unwillingly closing her eyes. She was just so tired...

"Get some rest, Kiethara," Aaron ordered gently. "You deserve it."

Kiethara did not know if he left after he said that or not, for she had already fallen asleep.

Her dreams were very vivid and very confusing as bright images flashed across her mind. Kiethara was lying on the bottom of the guardian's lake. The water swirled red around her, stained by the blood that was pouring from a gash in her right arm that ran from her sleeve to her wrist. It tainted the sweet taste of the water as she breathed it in.

Kiethara was watching a figure in the distance walk towards her. As the figure walked forward it split, taking the form of two people she both knew and cared for.

The Spirit of Aaron was calmly walking towards her, showing no sign of concern as more blood seeped out of her arm. Navadar was just the same, but instead of walking like Aaron, he was swimming. Bubbles came out of his lips as he smiled at her.

Kiethara, despite her arm, had to smile back. His own grin grew in response as he measured her reaction and he eagerly swam closer to her. Aaron, though, was not far behind. They both squatted down next to her, Aaron taking her left hand and squeezing it. This time no magic surged through her body like it had before, when they had first made physical contact. His hand felt just as normal as she suspected Navadar's would feel like. For some reason, this scared her.

Kiethara opened her mouth to ask him about it, but only bubbles came out as she tried to speak. All of a sudden, Kiethara needed to breath. She just had to get to the surface. Puzzled, she brought a hand to her throat.

Navadar was the only one who reacted to her distress. He yanked her undamaged hand out of Aaron's grip, and tugged on it. With his other hand he gestured to the surface.

It took Kiethara's sluggish mind a moment to work out what he was trying to say. Finally, she understood. She scrambled to her feet quickly and the two of them slowly swam back up to the surface, which seemed to shrink away as they got closer.

Then her head broke the surface.

As soon as she did, the pain in her arm finally seared through her, coursing through her body as though she had been struck by lightning. She screamed so loudly it echoed through the forest, but it had no effect on Navadar; he only continued to tug on her as he impatiently gestured towards the land. She fought against his grip, trying to go back under the surface. Now the water was calling to her. Why wouldn't he let her go back under? Why wouldn't he listen to her?

Suddenly a strong, hot grip grabbed her ankle and began pulling her under again. Squirming in Navadar's grip, she turned to see who had her. It was Aaron.

Aaron and Navadar began fighting over her. They wanted her for different reasons, to give her different things with different comforts in different places. Each had an almost irresistible temptation to them; both of them had an equally strong hold on her. No one was gaining anything; she was just stuck in between them with no strength to fight. How could she choose between them? It was tearing her apart. And they wouldn't stop.

Then the image changed.

Kiethara was in the blackness once more. Her thoughts, again, had the familiar feeling of slipping away. It scared her so badly she almost woke up—she wanted nothing more than to escape the darkness permanently, even if it was a bit different this time around. This time, she could feel her limbs and she reveled in the ability to turn her head and blink her eyes. It wasn't as though there was anything to turn and look at; the never ending darkness was just that, darkness. Kiethara brought her hand to her face and felt her fingers brush her nose, but she could not see it. Carefully, she pulled herself to her feet, uneasy that she couldn't see her body. It was like being invisible again.

"Kiethara," a sweet voice called.

Her mother's voice. Again.

A brilliant light suddenly ripped through the blackness. It started out in the distance, small but powerful as it outshone all of its surroundings. It came closer, and at first, she thought it was Aaron. The light did take the form of a human figure, but this figure was smaller, skinnier, and contained more curves. It was a women's figure. The figure stopped just a few feet away.

"Mother?" Kiethara whispered after a moment of shocked silence.

Her voice echoed through the blackness in an eerie sort of way. There was another moment of silence between the two before Earthaphoria's bird song voice broke it.

"Don't give up. You can't give up," she told her in a firm voice, as if it were an order.

"What?" Kiethara asked, dazed. Her head was full of questions. Why was her mother here in the darkness with her? Why did she look like Aaron, like a spirit? Had she come back to life too? And the last question, the most painful: why wouldn't her mother come any closer?

"I-I won't," she stammered finally. "I promise."

"I love you," her mother whispered. It sounded like a farewell, a goodbye.

"I...I love you t-too," Kiethara whispered in return. She took a step towards her mother, but at the same time, she took a step back.

The darkness began to fade then, just as her mother began to fade. Both drifted away as Kiethara drifted back into consciousness. The distance grew until she opened her eyes, only to have tears gushing out of them.

She let out a hoarse gasp. She tried to sit up, but her whole body was trembling. A breath of wind stirred as she managed to bring her knees to her chest; she rocked slowly back and forth to calm herself. The motion was soothing and it helped halt her tears and even out her breathing.

_Get a grip on yourself,_ she thought, yet something about the dream continued to unnerve her.

Kiethara got up slowly and began to walk to the center of the forest, the routine ingrained upon her since she had started her training. As she walked through the never ending green, she remembered being lost after her fight with Sinsenta. It seemed so foolish now, to have actually been lost within the forest. She lived here; she shouldn't be able to get turned around. How much did she have left to discover? Navadar's kingdom was not in the forest and he had mentioned it wasn't too much of a journey, so the forest had to end at some point. A better question: how much was she really protecting?

Kiethara reached the center of the forest. Even though her world had changed very swiftly in the past two months, this clearing had not changed at all. The level of the water in the lake never rose nor fell, the grass never seemed to yellow, and the air was always clean with the purest magic. The tree's that rimmed the clearing were always laden with fruit and lush with emerald leaves. It was like a little piece of a fantasy, one free from the chains of time and the burdens of the world that surrounded it, stuck right in the middle of a truly anarchic reality.

With a swift dive, she was in the lake. Her aches were blissfully numbed for a moment and, as she drifted deeper and deeper into the water, she found she could think more easily. Deep, cool breathes eased the pressure on her chest. It very nearly put her back to sleep. A small sigh escaped Kiethara's lips—she had to return to the surface.

"Feeling better?" the Spirit of Aaron asked as she clambered out of the lake. She made a face.

"Not really."

"I understand; however, you did an amazing job."

"Once again I save the day, without any idea of how I did it!" Kiethara huffed in frustration. "I didn't mean to do it!"

"Very modest of you, Kiethara, but I think if you concentrate hard you will be able to venture a guess to how you did it. You are a guardian, after all, and you instinctively call to your power when you need it. You used what you had: anger."

"I don't think I have ever been more enraged than I was today," she admitted. Aaron chuckled.

"The intensity of your anger was strong, yes," Aaron said, getting serious. "The anger you felt today, matched with your power, was very dangerous for you. You lost a little control back there."

"Was that a magical burst?" Kiethara asked hopefully.

"No. Magical burst are much more powerful and dangerous, but what you did today could have had the same consequences, just on a smaller scale. You could have burnt yourself."

"Why weren't my hands burned?" she asked, raising her hands. They were as flawless as they had been before they had burst into flames. She caught a glimpse of her scar that ravaged her right arm, though. She swallowed back a lump in her throat and looked away, fighting off the sudden wave of emotion.

"When you use your powers, your crystals have a special power of their own. They put up a shield, if you will, that protects your hands from the elements you use. Only your hands, however."

"Why can't it expand past that?" she asked.

"Well, the protections your hands get from your crystals are an instinct. In order to get that protection to expand, you would have to rely on controlling the power with raw instinct and emotion, and let the forest and its magic use you, instead of the other way around. Why this might be powerful, it is still better to use reason, thought, and control to wield your powers."

"Ah..."

"That brings us back to why you are here today. It is time to begin with the basics of the element of fire," Aaron informed her.

The statement excited her. The prospect of new material, new emotions, and new skills was invigorating.

"To the lake, Kiethara," he ordered. The orders brought back memories...

Twelve year old Kiethara was standing next to Aaron, gazing up at the huge stone that lay on the bottom of the guardian's lake. It towered over her tiny figure; hosting four glass spheres that were carved into the rock.

"Read to me what the element of wind says," Aaron had told her.

"We did this for earth, didn't we?" Kiethara had asked, her high-pitched voice echoing through the lake, the bubbles issuing from her mouth making the words almost incomprehensible.

"Yes. We will do this for every element," he told her, patient as always.

So Kiethara began to read:

AIR

THE ELEMNT OF WIND. THIS ELEMENT IS MOSTLY CONTROLED BY FEAR. TO CONTROL THIS ELEMENT YOU MUST CONTROL YOUR FEAR. DO NOT PANIC.

"So what does that tell you?" Aaron asked.

"Not to panic?" she answered with a shrug.

"Read in between the lines," he chided her gently. She had no answer.

"This element is very delicate, very precise. You have to think logically to control this element. I think you won't have too much trouble with this, because to this point, you've proved to be a smart girl."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"Just continue to prove me right."

"When have I ever disappointed you?"

### ***

The memory faded away as the present time and place came into focus.

"Kiethara?" Aaron asked, wary.

"Sorry," she mumbled and threw herself into the lake, embarrassed. The memory had brought silly, ridiculous tears.

Aaron, in some strange way of his, was already by the stone, waiting for her to swim over. His movements reminded her of the way Gandador and Sinsenta were always disappearing and reappearing. How nice would it be if Aaron would teach her that?

"Read to me what the element of fire says," Aaron instructed as soon as she got there. She did as she was told.

FIRE

THE ELEMENT OF LIGHT AND HEAT. THIS ELEMENT IS MOSTLY CONTROLED BY ANGER. TO CONTROL THIS ELEMENT YOU MUST CONTROL YOUR ANGER.

"What does it mean?" he asked.

It took Kiethara a moment to piece together her answer. Each simple statement in the paragraph had many details behind it, making it hard to find a straight answer.

"The element of fire is very fierce and very strong. There has to be a lot of controlled power behind it." Her answer sounded more like a question than an actual answer.

"Very good, Kiethara. The element of fire does need a lot of clout behind it, including strong, but controlled, anger. The anger you felt was very fierce, but very wild. The only thing that stopped you from burning Sinsenta to death or burning down the forest was your shock and surprise."

His reply made her shudder. They stood there for a minute in silence.

"Would it have been better if I had killed him?" Kiethara whispered, looking down. Aaron was silent for a minute.

"I'm not denying that it would have saved you a lot of trouble in the future, but I would never ask that of you, Kiethara," he told her gently. She still didn't look up, afraid her expression would give too much away.

In the end, that would be what she had to do. Of course she would have to kill Gandador if the opportunity presented itself; not only that, she would also have to be fighting her hardest to make that opportunity a possibility. She didn't have another option. Once the world was rid of him, there would be no fear of threat, or pain. Didn't she want that? Didn't she need that? She was the only one who had any chance of accomplishing such a feat...

So why was she recoiling at the realization?

"Come, Kiethara," Aaron said, beckoning her to the surface with a nod. She followed a little slowly.

"It's time to begin practicing the element," he said as soon as she had pulled herself to dry land.

"What about invisibility?" she asked. They hadn't been getting anywhere with that, but she wasn't about to give up.

"I think that might be a little advanced for you, a little beyond your level."

"I did it before!" Kiethara replied defensively.

"Yes," he said calmly. "But fire will be easier and, in any case, more essential to your fighting."

"Fine," Kiethara mumbled.

"Now, I believe you are practiced in recreating emotion. Use the memory of your fight to summon what you need."

With a suppressed sigh, Kiethara closed her eyes and brought forth the required memory. Sinsenta's face swam into view, with his blue eye and his brown eye staring down at her with sick pleasure as he held her down. She remembered the trapped feeling she had had, the piercing words he had spoken to ignite her fury. She let the recollection grow, let the fire of rage devour her from the inside out. It consumed her until her teeth were gritted together and her hands were balled into fists.

Then, what felt like a small blast blew her hair back and warmed her skin. She gave a yelp of surprise and opened her eyes.

Flames were dancing on her outstretched arms. She could feel the heat and see the orange tongues licking at her hands, but she couldn't feel anything. It was unnerving to watch.

"I did it!" she squealed. But as soon as her pleasure overcame her anger, the fire vanished as fast as it had come. Aaron chuckled.

"Well done," Aaron commended her. He was right—the element of fire was easier than invisibility, by far. Kiethara beamed.

"Suppress your delight, Kiethara, I want you to do this again," he ordered, annoying her slightly with his harsh tone.

Yet, as she continued with her practices, that annoyance was actually very supportive. It allowed her to repeat it again and again, over and over.

Over and over and over again...

After hours of practice Kiethara finally plopped into the grass, exhausted but satisfied in what she had accomplished. Aaron had helped and, now that she thought about it, he probably did it on purpose. All through the training he had remarked on what she was doing erroneous, making snide comments...something that frustrated her to no end. But they had kept her other emotions—happiness, despair—at bay.

"You did amazing," he finally complimented her as she laid face down in the grass, closing her eyes against the world. After a minute, Kiethara turned her head to ask him a question.

"How can Sinsenta fly?" she asked.

"Sinsenta is very talented at magic. He comes in second next to Gandador, from what I have seen. When you're that skilled at magic..." he trailed off.

"Then what's the point of being a guardian if everyone can be as strong as I can?" she demanded.

"There are many, many points. You do have powers no one else can possess, just because of the sheer amount of power they take. For example, Gandador, or anyone else for that matter, cannot turn invisible," Aaron explained.

"He can't? Why?"

"I told you, it requires an amount of magic that he cannot possess for a very long time. The major difference between a guardian and someone like Gandador is the fact that you have an endless stream of power coming to you from the forest, when he does not."

"I don't have an endless amount," she said blankly. "I ran out trying to put the fire out."

"You did not necessarily 'run out,' and in time...you will have an endless amount."

"I will?" she asked, eyes widening.

"All in good time, Kiethara," Aaron said offhandedly.

"I still don't understand," she huffed. "Anyone can feel any emotion, so they should all be able to use the same powers..."

"I believe, in some cases, the crucial emotions must be accompanied with the right motive," he said quietly.

"I have to have the right...motive?"

"It's a lesson your great-grandmother had to learn, and—"

"What?!" Kiethara interrupted with a screech, lifting her head up so fast her neck cracked.

"I suppose I haven't told you much about your ancestors," Aaron mused.

"Suppose?!" she asked incredulously.

"Calm down and I'll tell you the story," Aaron compromised. Kiethara pulled herself upright and sat, legs crossed, her attention intent of Aaron.

"Your great-grandmother's name was Pracilzee," he began. "Her time of being a guardian was rather...normal, if you will, peaceful, but not without adversaries. Some did step up against her, but none were nearly as powerful as Gandador. Honestly, I haven't seen anything like him before. It seems like you got the short end of the stick."

"Har har," she mumbled. "But I thought you only just awoke when I was little? How do you know this happened?"

"That's a question that will fully be answered later in your life, Kiethara," he said, infuriating her with more of his riddles. "But I can explain this much: you awoke me so I could act. Before that, though, I could see. I could watch everything that was going on in my forest, but not act upon it.

"Anyway, Pracilzee was a few years older than you before corruption began to take hold."

"Corruption?" she asked.

"In a way. Her motives changed, Kiethara," Aaron said softly. "Instead of wanting to protect the forest, she only desired the sheer power that came with being a guardian. It wasn't long before she began to neglect the duties associated with the position."

Kiethara gasped. She hadn't even considered that, or known it were possible.

"Her father, the previous guardian, tried his hardest to reason some sense into her. It was to no avail, however, and his attempts even led to his death."

"His death?" she whispered, frightened.

"Pracilzee was eventually filled with so much contempt for the responsibilities of the forest and her father that she killed him. A first, for the forest."

Kiethara stared straight ahead, seeing nothing. Had one of her ancestors really been that brutal? The guardians were supposed to be whole, good; Kiethara always pictured them as the models for the perfect being—people who were filled with nothing but righteousness.

"That's a little dramatic," Kiethara finally pointed out in a weak voice.

"Yes, but Pracilzee loved the magic she possessed more than anything else. She did not want anyone else with that same power anywhere near her, nor did she want them instructing her on how to use it. She used her power for the wrong motives, Kiethara. She used them to gain more power, instead of to protect the greatest power in the world."

She nodded.

"She gained nothing from it. Remember that, Kiethara. It is a vital lesson, a vital reason."

The last word of his sentence reminded her of her own moral. Everything happened for a reason.

"Promise me you will remember that," Aaron ordered.

"Come on, when have I ever let you down?" she asked with a small smile.

"Never."

**CHAPTER 10**

**LESSON**

The next two weeks passed without incident, as though peace had finally returned to the legendary forest. Kiethara was lying on her back in another one of her preferred spots of the forest, though one, she admitted, she did not visit often. It was a little off of the southeastern corner of her clearing. It wasn't exactly a clearing itself, but here the trees were a bit thinner. Sunlight managed to make its way to the forest floor in beautiful stripes. The scattered trees provided small spots of shade that littered the sunlit grass. Each tree was young and plump, perfect for fruit. She ate here frequently, which was exactly what she was doing now.

She was also running the story of her great-grandmother over and over again in her head as she chewed slowly on a strawberry. It seemed more like a myth than a legend. Had Pracilzee really loathed what she had been born to do? It was hard to imagine. Yes, Kiethara found her... _position_ rather tedious at times, but it still wouldn't justify her to go to such extremes...

"Kiethara?"

Kiethara leapt to her feet instinctively, spinning on her heel in search of the one who had called her name.

Finally, she looked into magnificently green eyes.

"Navadar!" Kiethara cried with pleasure, and before she could think to stop herself, she hurled herself at him, throwing her arms around him.

Heat flooded her face as her sense caught up with her actions, and she quickly took a step back. Did she really have no control when it came to him? Couldn't she ever maintain her dignity? Her pale cheeks burned as she locked her hands together behind her back. She was surprised she didn't turn invisible again. Navadar laughed.

"The forest must be pretty humdrum if you're that excited to see me," he commented with a grin.

"You have no idea," she replied, remembering the monotonous months that had been her life before the forest was visited. She expected him to laugh, but all she heard was a sharp intake of breath, while she saw his cheerful expression turn to one of horror.

"What?!" she gasped, spinning once again to scan the vicinity. Her shield flew up with a rush of fear. Would Sinsenta come back so fast? The thought tightened her throat, constricting her airways.

"Your arm," Navadar choked out.

Kiethara turned back to him in surprise, her shield disappearing. It took her a second to realize that he was referring to the huge, dull pink line that ran down her right arm. Her gaze flickered down to the scar; she swallowed as her throat constricted her again. She quickly pulled the arm behind her.

"What happened?" he whispered, pulling her arm forward with his strong grip.

"Nothing," Kiethara mumbled. "I'm fine."

"Fine? Look how long it runs! It wasn't shallow, either," Navadar said, his gaze flickering up from her arm and into her navy blue eyes. "Are you all right?"

"Navadar," she said in exasperation. She was surprised to see his expression was calculating.

"I saw you not too long ago. How...?" he trailed off.

"It's a long story," Kiethara sighed.

"Did Gandador do this to you?" Navadar asked in a fierce tone.

"No, not exactly," she hedged.

"That's not a very convincing no." It was obvious he wasn't going to relent.

"S-Sinsenta did this to me."

"Who's Sinsenta?" he asked. _Interesting_ , she thought. He must not be as well known as Gandador.

"One of Gandador's servants? I don't know exactly how to explain him; he's more of a faithful puppy dog."

"Gandador has servants?" he asked, surprised.

"Apparently."

"So how did this Sinsenta"—he spat the name with a disdain that surprised Kiethara—"do this to you?"

"Do we have to discuss this?" Kiethara asked, almost to the point of pleading.

"No, of course not," Navadar said quickly, finally catching on to how uncomfortable she was. She smiled in relief.

"Sit," she suggested. She laid herself in a nice patch of sun, on her stomach, crossing her ankles in the air and resting her chin in her hands. Navadar followed her suggestion, leaning against the tree with one knee bent and the other stretched out in the shade. Her patch of strawberries lay in the middle.

Kiethara looked up to catch Navadar's eyes, which had been staring at her. It made her squirm; was the scar really that big of a deal? She lowered her gaze.

"I didn't know strawberries were still in season," Navadar commented, in attempt to make conversation.

"Season?" Kiethara asked, raising her eyebrows.

"When something is usually grown...the time of year it has the highest yield...You know, season," Navadar tried to explain.

He had lost her.

Never in her life had she had a problem with growing food. When she had been younger and unskilled with her magic, she had simply found food in the trees. The fruits hadn't been there at a certain time, or with certain...yields. Everything was there at every time of the year, lush and perfectly able to eat.

It seemed like nothing in her life worked the way his did.

"So, then, I bet you're just dying to have a strawberry," she said, desperately trying to lighten the suddenly tense moment. Thankfully, he smiled.

"You caught me."

"Go ahead and have one," Kiethara offered. Her crystals brightened slightly as, with a wave of her hands, more strawberries shot out of the ground.

Instead of reaching for one, as she thought he would, Navadar froze with encompassing eyes and a gaping mouth. He was staring at the patch of strawberries as though he had never seen anything like it in his life. She frowned. Every single move she made seemed to offset him in one way or another. Obviously, she needed to make a few lifestyle changes if she wanted to count on his return.

One, use as little magic as possible.

Kiethara, her eyes on Navadar's expression, slowly brought her hand forward to pick a strawberry. As soon as her hand crossed his vision he came back to himself, his cheeks coloring slightly. He quickly took one for himself.

They ate in silence for a moment, listening to the rustling of the leaves and the occasional call of an animal. The succulent strawberry released fresh juice on her taste buds, and she could not help but praying that it tasted as good to Navadar as it did to her.

"Do you carry your weapon around with you all the time?" Kiethara asked, noticing the tip of it peeking over his back.

"Of course! Like you, although far less often, perhaps, I can get attacked at any time," he reasoned. "I also need it to hunt."

"Hunt?" she asked uncertainly, though she attempted to adopt a tone of polite, nonchalant interest.

"Deer, mostly. There are a few animals I'm accustomed to."

"You hunt animals?! Why?!"

"For food, of course," he said slowly, as though she were a fool.

"You...eat them?" Kiethara asked slowly, struggling to contain the alarm that threatened to explode out of her.

"What? You can't tell me you have never eaten them before!" he exclaimed.

"Of course I've never eaten an animal!" she declared, outraged that he would accuse her of such blasphemy.

"I didn't mean to offend you," Navadar said quickly, a bit taken aback. "I've just never heard of someone who has never eaten meat before!"

"R-really?" she stammered.

"Yes."

Kiethara wasn't sure how she felt about that. She suddenly had the sensation of being helplessly, immensely alone here in the forest, as though the world he came from was an unconquerable distance away from her. Not only that, but these people from the distant world were aliens to her; she was lost to their customs that they were able to share with one another, discoveries that they had reached with the assistance of company.

"Anyway," he said, pulling her out of her sinking sensation. "In my opinion, the bow is the best weapon. They're easy to make, easy to handle, and they can be quite precise when you have the adequate skill to use one."

"Sounds perfect to me," she complimented.

"It is," he agreed. Then his eyes lit up. "Would you like me to demonstrate?"

"You would do that?" she asked excitedly.

"I can even teach you how," Navadar said, hopping to his feet. He walked the few feet that separated them and held out his hand to help her out. She took it greedily, her stomach flipping in an uneasy way that she had never experienced before, and her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. He pulled her up with such easy that she left the ground for a moment.

"Sorry," he chuckled, as he set her on her feet. "No wonder you're so light, you don't eat meat!"

Kiethara paused. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing...in your opinion?" she asked, biting her lip. Navadar laughed even harder.

"It seems I have a lot to teach you," he amended.

"I am a tad bit out of touch," she admitted with a tiny smile.

"I can tell," he grinned.

"So are you really going to teach me how to use your bow?" Kiethara asked with an enthusiastic yet slightly impatient pitch.

"Yes, let's get started," Navadar said, clapping his hands together once and scanning their surroundings with a thoughtful expression. He took a couple steps back and to the right.

"Here will serve as a good spot," he said, and beckoned her toward him.

She all but skipped to his side.

"All right, do you see that tree?" he asked, pointing to a tree that was a decent distance away. She nodded.

"Watch me, and it," Navadar ordered as he reached for his weapon.

When he brought it around from his back, the details of it came into a better perspective. It was made with what seemed to be wood, but it was bended to form a smooth curve with such grace that it seemed impossible that something as crude as wood could be manipulated into such a form. Both ends were connected by a black string. Towards the highest point of the arc, it was encased in a few inches of a mysterious white material, appearing much stiffer than its fluid counterpart. This elegantly finished addition gave the weapon a very balanced look; clearly stating grace and nimbleness as well as power and strength.

"I made this myself," Navadar said, noticing her awed gape. "It took an awful long time, I'll tell you that."

"It's...beautiful," she whispered, putting out a single finger and running it down the white matter in the middle. It was very cold to her touch. "What material is this?"

"Bone."

"Bone?!" she gasped, removing her finger at once. He sighed.

Next from his back he removed a long, straight shaft, adorned with a pointed head. The shaft was made of the same deep, rich wood his bow consisted of, but the point was made from chiseled stone. On the opposite side, where the shaft widened, two white feathers festooned its tail. Kiethara could, at least, name this piece: an arrow.

"Now you nock the arrow here, on the bow," Navadar explained as he loaded the dazzling yet dangerous piece of art. "Then you pull back, hold the tail here with your two knuckles, and..."

Navadar pulled back on the string, bringing the arrow back as well, and planted his feet. The muscles in his arm flexed as he lowered his head to level his line of sight with the shaft of the arrow. Closing one eye, with the twitch of his fingers, he released it.

Kiethara, who had had her eyes on Navadar, did not see the arrow zoom across the space between Navadar and the tree. She looked up just in time to see the stone point dig itself into the very center of the trunk of the tree. She gasped in amazement.

"My best arrow; I've never missed a shot with it!" he said proudly, grinning from ear to ear.

"That was astonishing," she told him earnestly.

"Thank you. Here, you try," he offered, holding out the bow. She just stared at it.

"You...you are kidding, are you not?" she asked blankly. How in the world was she supposed to copy Navadar's enthralling performance?

"Not up for the challenge?" he teased.

"All right, then," she said unsurely. Navadar handed her his weapon. She was surprised to feel how heavy it was. He then handed her an arrow, this one crafted with turquoise feathers. It was just as beautiful as the first.

"You might not want to give me such a good arrow, especially if you want it back," she warned.

"Good point," Navadar said, replacing it with a different one. The new arrow had no feathers, and instead of a head of stone, its tip was made of burnt wood.

"Aim for that tree," he said, pointing towards a tree that was a little closer and wider. An easy target.

Kiethara looked down at the craftsmanship in her hand and tried to place the arrow just as Navadar had. She pulled back on the string, which was unyielding and stiff, making her job much more difficult. Before she could pull the string back even halfway, the arrow fell to the ground. Navadar laughed.

"That was pitiful," Kiethara said, staring at the arrow lying in the grass with a shameful expression. She managed to smile along with him, but her cheeks were hot.

"Yes," Navadar chortled. "But it was your first attempt. Here, let me help."

Navadar picked up her arrow for her, allowing her to string it again. Before she could draw, however, his arms were suddenly around her. He took his large, warm hands and placed them on top of her small ones; his body encased hers and his warm breath tickled the back of her neck.

So, this was how he was going to help her.

Warmth spread from the top of her head to the bottom of her bare, dirt smudged feet. It wasn't embarrassment. It was something more than that. Something she didn't have a name for. It sent her stomach into a series of flips, twists, and turns—acrobats her insides had never performed before.

"Pull back a little more," he murmured into her ear. His hands gripped hers tighter as he helped her pull back the arrow further. He paused for a second and then, together, they released the arrow.

It was not as perfect as his own shot, but it came much closer to the center of the trunk than she expected.

"Not a very good arrow. I was thinking about burning it," Navadar admitted, stepping back.

Burning it. That gave her an idea.

Kiethara went and retrieved her arrow. She made her way back to the same spot, loaded the bow, and pointed the black tip at the same tree.

In that position, she drew forth the memory of Sinsenta. It took all her focus to recreate the same, powerful fury that had driven her power in the first place. She lost track of time as she let the emotion consume her.

"Kiethara?" Navadar asked uncertainly. The corners of her mouth twitched as her index finger burst into flames.

She quickly brought it to the arrow and, after a fraction of a second, released it. The arrow, now engulfed in flames, shot through the air, landing a bit off the center of the tree with a thud.

She let out a squeal of delight as she saw her success before looking over her shoulder at Navadar.

Navadar had staggered a few steps back, his relatively gorgeous face pale. His green eyes were wide with shock and fright as they locked onto the burning arrow implanted in the tree.

Alarmed at this reaction, Kiethara whipped around to look at the tree. She made a quick wind pick up to snuff out the flames, like whipping away a stain; the fire had not had a chance to harm the tree.

"Navadar?" Kiethara asked slowly, turning back to him. He still hadn't moved, or gained much color to his skin.

"How did you do that?" Navadar breathed.

"Magic," she replied blankly, blinking her eyes. What a foolish question. She looked at him quizzically and, when he did not immediately respond, she realized her mistake.

She wanted to kick herself, and hard. Had she forgotten the rule she had just laid down for herself that easily? Using her magic in front of Navadar reciprocated no positive responses. He was...normal and she could do well with restraining from using any of her powers.

Unfortunately, that was equivalent to asking herself not to blink.

Meanwhile, Navadar seemed to come back to himself. He walked back over to her, slightly dazed, but steady in his stride.

"Well done," he said in an even tone, holding his hand out for his bow. She relinquished it quickly.

"T-thank you."

There was an awkward silence that lay rather thickly between them as Navadar replaced his bow to his back. It seemed there was no hope for Navadar to recover completely, nor for any atmosphere that contained even the smallest degree of comfort.

Then he looked up at the sky and sighed.

"Do you have to go?" she asked.

"Yes, my father..." Navadar didn't finish the thought, but he didn't need to.

"I understand. I'm grateful for your coming," she said politely, trying to use manners as her a mask for disappointment.

"It was a pleasure," he said. He suddenly looked down at her more intensely than ever before, a look of fierce concentration shadowing his handsome features, making a decision. He then reached for her hand and bowed low, kissing the back of it with tenderness that shook her from the inside. Her crystals glowed.

"Please, don't hesitate to call upon the forest again," she whispered, unable to regain more volume than that.

"Of course." She couldn't doubt the sincerity in his voice.

Navadar started towards the trees. Once again, as though it was an established ritual, he turned to give her one last glance over his shoulder. The emotions that lit his green eyes were too complicated and mixed for her to tell apart. Then, too soon, he turned and walked away.

Kiethara took a shaky breath to steady her before starting back towards her clearing. Navadar's face was still vivid before her eyes, his alien scent still vivid in her nostrils, and his voice still ringing in her ears. He had a peculiar time in his visits; they always seemed to be after one of her perilous encounters, and his timing was getting closer and closer to the actual event.

The prospect of that was unacceptable.

**CHAPTER 11**

**EXPLORE**

Kiethara was hovering in the blissful state between sleep and consciousness. The morning sun was kissing at her cheeks and a cool wind was playing with her hair. Her breathing came in a slow, steady rhythm that matched the slight rock her hammock had, the same rock that she couldn't sleep without.

Consciousness finally beat all the drowsiness from Kiethara. She pulled herself upright and stretched, trying not to think of the work that lay before her, unfinished. Well, it was nothing but the result of slacking off, for she had had plenty of time to do it after Navadar had left, but she had decided against it.

Finally, she made it to her feet. Using her fingers, Kiethara began to detangle and unweave the leaves whirling around in the natural disaster that was her hair. It took a few good minutes until she was unknotted and then she bent down to pick up the little leather bag of mystifying seeds Aaron had given her. The bag felt light. She peeked inside, squinting at the small bout of brightness that escaped from the opening and, to her dismay, made out that there were only a few seeds left. Time for a refill.

Skipping and humming her familiar melody, Kiethara made her way to the center of the forest. Some of the leaves were slowly beginning to change color, making her think about Navadar's talk about seasons. Most were still green, however, and some stayed green all year long. Very few trees lost all or any of their leaves in the winter here in the forest. Aaron had told her that the vast amount of magic present was the reason behind it.

Finally, the innumerable trees thinned and altogether stopped to let her into the clearing that she had come to know and love. The lake tantalized her, but she resisted the urge. It was unnecessary.

An unnatural breeze picked up, tossing some leaves into the crisp morning air. A light at the opposite end of the clearing appeared, growing brighter and brighter as it came towards her.

The figure of a man, made completely of light, was walking towards her.

"Good morning, Kiethara." The Spirit of Aaron greeted her.

"Hello," she nodded. "I think I need some more seeds."

"I suppose you do; I'll fetch some more," he assured her, and with that, he took the bag from Kiethara's outstretched hand and walked away until the vegetation consumed him.

Aaron returned quickly, the brown bag now bulging once more with seeds, light streaming out of the leather's imperfections.

"Thank you," she bowed her head, taking the bag from him. "Aaron, I have a question."

"I knew you would," he chuckled.

"Really? How?"

"You're naturally curious," he replied simply. "There isn't a single detail that you miss. Being vigilant is something to be praised for."

"Does it help me in my role as a guardian?" she asked. Aaron seemed to know more about herself than she did.

"Yes, Kiethara," he sighed. For some reason, it made her feel foolish.

"Anyway, you know how I fainted after my fight with Sinsenta?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Well, I had no idea where I had been. I started wondering...Truly, how big is the forest?"

"Far larger than you have ever imagined," Aaron said matter-of-factly.

"How big?" she asked wearily. Surely he was just exaggerating?

"I would say you could multiply the area of the forest you know by at least a thousand times and there would still be some forest unaccounted for."

"What?!" she gasped. She felt as though she had been punched in the gut.

Kiethara felt as though a heavy weight had suddenly been brought down on her shoulders, pressing down hard, constricting her breathing until it was labored. Stress exploded inside her. It caused her heart to pound, caused her palms to sweat. It seemed too much to handle. To heavy, too much, too impossible.

"Impossible," she repeated aloud.

How could she guard a forest that big? If what Aaron said was true...well, she felt as though his words had just sentenced the forest to death.

It would be all her fault.

"Kiethara, you are overreacting!" Aaron told her fiercely. She responded by looking up at him with naked panic lucid in her navy blue eyes.

"Relax," he ordered, but gently. "I will teach you how to handle the forest...when the time is right. The forest is not in danger now."

"But—"

"If you are so worried, why do you not go and explore some of it today?" he interrupted.

"You sure?" she mumbled sarcastically. "I won't get lost?"

"Shout if you need me."

"Always do," Kiethara called over her shoulder as she began to make her way out of the clearing, the bag of seeds swinging at her side.

Kiethara hurried to her own clearing to drop off the seeds, anxious to start exploring. The concept of new forest, new territory, new mysteries...

She fingered at the golden locket that was nuzzled into the nape of her neck; tracing the letter inscribed there, with all its twists and curves, following the path it made on the precious, priceless heart. It was sealed, as always, holding its own mysteries. She remembered the day she found it, the day the forest revealed it to her...

Eleven year old Kiethara was walking towards her clearing, humming the inexplicable melody forever ingrained inside her head. She was coming from the west and, through the gaps in the trees, she had seen her hammock waving at her in the slight breeze. The sun was visible behind her, illuminating the forest floor with rays of golden evening light.

That was when she had spotted it.

The locket had lain at the base of a tree. The metal heart had sparkled, winked at her suddenly, all the while bending green blades of grass as it lay unobtrusively on the forest floor. Even from where she stood, the engraved letter had been visible. It curved and looped and bended back over on itself in various places, never once stopping. The letter turned into a vine—a gorgeous, delicate vine—that seemed to encircle the locket until it met once more with the top of the letter _E_.

The chain of the locket was just as memorizing. Each link seemed to be different, but they flowed so smoothly together she could only figure they were all the same. Though their size varied, it had a sophisticatedly crafted appeal to it; the one obvious similarity for the entire piece was that each link lacked any flaw. Thick or thin, tiny or large; each was ideal.

Together, their individual perfection became an indivisible whole. Together, they created a masterpiece. Together, they made a work of art that was fluid even when motionless.

The chain lay in between the blades of the grass, but the space inside was not empty. A white rose towered over the locket, just as pretty as the hand-crafted beauty that surrounded its stem. The petals were pure as they twisted out of the emerald stem, lacking any trace of wilt. Also, she noticed, this rose had no thorns.

Kiethara did not know how long she stood there, still as a tree. The only movement was the rise and fall of her chest, like leaves moving in the blustery weather. The sparkle of the locket hardly seemed to dull, even though the light that had cast it into her line of sight had long since faded as its source sunk towards the horizon.

Finally, she shook herself back to life and sprinted forwards toward the locket. She knelt, taking in the powerful scent of the rose. Gently, as though it were made of glass, she picked it up, making sure to loop the chain over the rose without hitting the floral wonder. She examined it closely, soaking her discovery in. Then she studied the letter _E_.

The answer struck her immediately.

Earthaphoria.

Her mother.

Tears welled up in eleven year old Kiethara's navy blue eyes and she clutched the locket to her pounding heart...

### ***

Fifteen year old Kiethara snapped back to the present. She shook her head to clear it from the sudden wave of sorrow that threatened to take her under. She took a deep breath, her excitement mounting again.

It made her wonder: what other precious items could be laying on the forest floor? Especially now that she realized the forest was a thousand times larger than she had dared to imagine, stretching from one undreamed-of horizon to the other, there just had to be some discovery to make. It was a promising aspect, for the idea that nothing was out there was almost as unbelievable as the forest's magnitude was.

Kiethara turned on her heel, deciding what random direction she ought to take to start her journey off. She found herself gazing readily towards the east.

For a while, Kiethara found herself following the sloppy carvings she had once made herself. The vegetation had changed somewhat since she had made them, but most remained. She idly wondered if she would be able to carve symbols throughout the forest, but that would take years, it now seemed, and besides, she was older, and her sense of direction was much improved from that of her younger self.

It took her a good hour before the carvings stopped, indicating that she had reached unexplored territory. From now on, she would walk as straight a path as possible. She doubted she would get lost, but the idea of calling to Aaron for help almost made her limbs disappear again. She was too proud for that nonsense.

She was beginning to notice a change in the topography around her. The trees were changing ever so slightly—they were thinning by minute degrees and increasing in variation.

It didn't take more than another hour of this directionless wandering to become tiresome and dull. She was growing rather weary, rather bored. Tree after tree, with a glimpse of an animal every few feet, wasn't exactly what she had been hoping for.

A snap of a twig made Kiethara freeze, her eyes automatically scanning her surroundings for the source. She knew without a doubt it had not been her, for she could walk the forest as silently as she could fly it.

She then spotted the source of the disturbance.

It was the cutest sight she had ever seen before. A young tiger stood off a few yards to her right. It barely measured a foot high, with its fur the warmest shade of orange, interrupted by periodic sharp, black stripes. Spots of white, plush fur appeared spontaneously on its paws and face, and its eyes appraised her with a childish curiosity.

Kiethara gasped in delight, but the sudden sound made the small thing dash behind a tree in fright.

"No, no, it's okay! I will not hurt you," she cooed, slowly sinking to her knees. The cub stuck his head out behind the bark, observing her once again. Kiethara, eagerly but slowly, stuck her hand out.

The tiger, very slowly, came out behind the tree. Kiethara smiled in confidence as he padded closer. No matter what the animal, she had never had one run away from her before. They always approached her eventually, as though she held an irresistible pull over them.

Finally, the baby was right in front of her, sniffing her outstretched hand. It seemed to be okay with whatever scented her palm and she took the advantage to rub his soft pelt. A soft purr came from the gentle beast.

A growl ripped apart the calm forest air. This growl was the single most menacing thing Kiethara had ever heard. It continued to get louder at an alarming rate, followed closely by the sound of heavy, padding paws. The young animal in front of her perked its ears up, but it did not run away like it had when it first saw her.

There was a streak of orange directly across from Kiethara, only twenty feet away. Kiethara turned her head to follow the movement and, in the time it took her to make the small movement, it had already swerved through the trees and rounded the last that separated her from it. Some small part of her brain estimated the distance was covered in only three seconds.

The baby tiger had a mother, and she had arrived.

Before Kiethara could rise fully from the ground, the protective beast threw her off her cub with one massive swipe of her claws. She skidded in the ground, stunned, until her progress was halted by a nearby tree. The tiger roared in fury, crouched again to attack.

Instinctively, her shield flew up. The sudden burst of radiating gold spooked all three of them, the two tigers fleeing.

As soon as they were out of sight, Kiethara let out a groan. She could feel the three shallow cuts on her neck begin to sting, but she decided to ignore them.

"Exploring my own forest and I get attacked by a tiger! Brilliant," she muttered to herself. Her shield disappeared as she pulled herself to her feet.

She had half a mind to run right around and head back to her own, safe little world. But there was something that kept her from turning away, some sort of pull that drew her to explore just a bit further. Perhaps it was the sudden excitement, but she suddenly desired to continue.

If she continued straight, she feared that she might run into the vicious tigers again. So instead she turned to the left. As she walked on, she noticed another change in landscape. Patches of grass splotched against the soil, as well as wild flowers.

It became enchanting. Suddenly, the trees grew larger, and the moss hung in sweeping curtain from the thick limbs, creating an archway for her to walk through. A canopy of life.

Kiethara entered paradise.

Paradise was the only word that could possibly describe the huge meadow she stumbled into as she pushed a screen of vines out of her way. It was at least three times the size of her clearing, but a thousand times more beautiful. Every inch of the ground was covered in bonny flowers; there was every flower present that Kiethara had ever seen. Some of these species didn't even belong here; just as Kithara grew her roses not from a bush but from the ground, these variations did the same. This led her to the only logical explanation: this meadow had not been created by nature, but by a guardian. By magic.

The power of the guardian had certainly fashioned a masterpiece. Each individual flower radiated its own beauteousness, as though each one had been created by hand with the most careful and loving precision. They shone, they danced, they stunned—each petal was illuminated by a kiss from the sun. The colors that speckled the intensely green grass and shamrocks ranged from a luscious red to the most brilliant of blues. There were flowers of the purest white and the most vivid purples. Blinding yellows contrasted with soft pinks. Ravishing oranges were the rarest, but they contributed to the clearing just as much as the other colors did.

One, lonely tree stood bravely in the ocean of flowers, tucked neatly into the northeastern corner. The tree was resplendent, a cherry blossom work of art that stood statuesque against it surroundings. The blossoms portrayed a peaceful atmosphere as they swayed in the breeze, slowing the mind, making her...drift.

The smell of the meadow hit Kiethara almost as hard as the sight of it had. In was intoxicating, practically invigorating, and it sent her thoughts swirling in its perfume. The blooms pumped their aroma into the air, creating new fragrances as they mingled with their neighbors. The most potent scent was definitely that of the cherry blossom tree, although it was not without competition. The sweet smell of the roses. The pleasant whiffs of the tulips. The gentle bouquet of the baby's breath. The strong odor of the lilies. The delicious perfume of the gardenias. The scents combined created a fragrance so powerful that it swept her breath away.

Kiethara unconsciously stepped forward, sending up a swirl of fallen petals. It reminded her of the ashes of the burnt forest...but the reminder didn't remain there for long. Currently, she was enchanted and enthralled by the scenery in front of her and everything else was easily dismissed.

"Aaron," she whispered aloud into the heavily scented air. "It's beautiful."

The Spirit of Aaron appeared besides her. His light had a dazzling effect on the meadow, sending its beauty into an even finer perspective. It even startled a few bees off their perches, and they buzzed off lazily, drunk off the perfumes.

"Yes, it is. Your mother grew it."

"My mother?" she gasped, feeling a rippling sensation of shock in her chest, as per usual at the mention of her mother.

"Mm," Aaron murmured, sounding distant as he thought of the memory. "Your mother found this field when she was just sixteen. She always had this...creative drive, and when she found this mundane field, she couldn't leave it as such. So she embellished a simple clearing of grass with every flower she could think of. In the corner, there, she added her favorite tree for a much needed bit of shade. She was so proud of herself when she showed her own mother."

"My...my mother's favorite tree was a cherry blossom?" she asked, trying to hide the desperation to learn more about her mother by sounding nonchalant.

"Yes, and I believe her favorite flower was a rose. White."

Kiethara's eyes lit up. Even before this detail had been illuminated, she had always considered the white rose to be her favorite flower.

Finally, Kiethara turned her eyes away from the meadow and towards Aaron. There was something different.

It was very subtle, yes, but Kithara was one to be observant. Aaron had always had a strong, full light that could match with the suns. She never had housed a doubt in its strength, never once thought that it could deviate from being nothing but the brightest.

However, the Spirit of Aaron was dimmer by a miniscule amount. His human figure remained, but his light did not hurt her eyes as much as it did. It was no significant change, but enough. As though the sun was setting in the sky, inch by inch.

"Aaron, your light...?" she asked, a little confused.

"What about my light, Kiethara?" he asked.

The way he said that derailed her for a minute. It was so calm, so innocent. As if he hadn't noticed any changes himself. Certainly he had to have noticed himself...?

"It's just..." she trailed off again.

"I don't understand," he said. His tone was maybe too innocent.

"It seems dimmer," she finally managed.

"How can you tell?" he asked. The atmosphere around him became irritated quickly.

"I just noticed," she replied, eyes narrowing.

"Maybe your eyes are just getting used to my light, hmm? Have you considered that?" he snapped back.

"No—" she began.

"Then enjoy the meadow. Good day," he said stiffly. He left.

What was that all about?

She looked out towards the meadow again and sighed in the essence of her mother.

**CHAPTER 12**

**INTRUDER**

_Thud, thud, thud_. The sound was calming, even in Kiethara's light sleep. It was just as comforting as the swing of her hammock, except it was having the opposite effect. Instead of putting her to sleep, it was subtly waking her up.

_Thud, thud, thud_. The sound was getting louder. It no longer had its lulling effect. In fact, she was beginning to feel a flash of irritation with each passing reverberation. She did not want to wake up. Kiethara tried to pull herself away from the sound, but it was to no avail. There was no stopping the noise from driving its way into her mind and keeping sleep at bay.

_Thud, thud, thud_. As Kiethara's thoughts picked up speed, she began to recognize the sound. She hadn't been familiar with it for long, but that didn't seem to matter. It was the sound of thudding boots. It was Navadar.

Kiethara's eyes snapped open, only to be blinded by the intensity of the morning sun. She blinked several times, waiting for her eyes to adjust. When her sight finally came to her, she turned her head towards the source.

Navadar entered the clearing and the sight of him was almost as dazzling as the sun had been on her eyes. A green tunic fitted his strong but slim figure, falling a bit past his knees. Black trousers tucked into dark boots, with his weapon slung across his back, as per usual, held on by a black leather strap that crossed his chest. Its dark hue contrasted greatly with his golden hair, which was swept back, allowing his handsome features to be emphasized even more. His most beautiful feature, perhaps, were his eyes. Kiethara grinned at him from ear to ear.

"Navadar!" she called out, pulling herself to a sitting position by using her two feet to keep the hammock still. She then stood up.

"Kiethara," he smiled, walking closer. His eyes seemed to scan over her for a moment and a wave of self-consciousness took over her. She wondered what her hair looked like this morning.

"Did I wake you? I'm sorry," he apologized.

"No, not at all. I needed to arise anyway," she told him, waving away his unnecessary apology.

"What happened to your neck?" he asked suddenly, taking another step forward.

Kiethara brought her hand to her neck in confusion. She then fingered the three, almost healed, parallel scratches that ran on the right side of her neck. Memories of the ferocious tiger days ago almost made her grimace.

"Oh, nothing." Kiethara tucked in her chin.

"Tell me."

"It's foolish." A blush started on her cheeks. How was she supposed to tell him she got attacked by a tiger? He would think her insane!

"What happened?" he stressed. Kiethara sighed.

"I...I got attacked by a tiger!" she finally confessed, looking up at him under her lashed, anticipating his reaction.

"A tiger?" Navadar asked, as if he had not heard right. His eyes grew very large, as they normally did when she mentioned anything.

This was exactly what she had been trying to avoid! Frightening him with her strange powers and unfortunate mishaps. Navadar just kept becoming more and more scared.

"Why in the world would you hesitate to tell me that?" he asked. She looked up to see his amused bewildered eyes. She bit her lip, trying to come up with a normal response.

"Because it's foolish," she replied lamely.

"Foolish? You got attacked by a tiger and walked away with only a scratch! I would call that brave," Navadar said, but she just shook her head.

"What's wrong, Kiethara? You're usually much more energetic and more talkative than this! Are you ill?" he asked. His eyes were full of concern. She looked down.

"When you left so soon last time...was that because of my magic?"

The question had come out of nowhere. It seemed to slip from her lips without her actual acknowledgement; however, even though she hadn't planned to ask the question, she didn't take it back. She wanted the truth.

She couldn't see Navadar's expression though she desperately wanted to; she just didn't have the courage to look up. She refused to let her eyes betray her with the emotion that flickered through them.

She saw his feet take a step closer. Only one small thud and then silence. Then his warm, sure fingers were lifting her chin, forcing her to look into his deep green eyes. They held an emotion she could not place. Remorse? Pain? Anger? It was too difficult to place.

"Kiethara," he said her name with strength, but at the same time his voice was tender. "You cannot fathom how sorry I am for behaving so rudely. I can see it is my fault for such a change in your manner. Kiethara, do not change yourself because this is all new to me. I have reacted terribly. But you, Kiethara, you are so brave! Everything I do must be strange to you as well, but you do not make a face. You take it in such admirable stride. Please, do not alter anything because of my humiliating weakness! I...I love you, Kiethara, for who you are. I love you especially for your magic, your power. It seems I have much to apologize for."

He said those words so meaningfully, so passionately, that she almost cried.

She was the aware of how close their bodies were. She could feel the warmth of his body, inched from hers. That warmth built in her heart, firing up her own passion, her own craving for the man in front of her. His simple touch, his hold on her chin, sent sparks through her body. But not enough sparks, she wanted more.

This was not something she had been prepared for. Everything Kiethara had done in her life had been centered on Aaron's teachings, but there had been no lessons for this. There had been no training for such an experience.

This was instinct.

Navadar put his lips on hers.

The feeling was better than any other feeling she had ever felt. It coursed through her like magic, but it was something more. It caused her heart to speed up, pumping frantically as though it couldn't get the feeling to travel through her bloodstream fast enough.

Navadar moved his hand from her chin to her neck, cupping it gently. Without consciously decided it, Kiethara put her fingers in her hair, entwining them with the blond. His tongue swiftly made its way into her mouth. She could taste his warm breath mingling with hers. Her back arched slightly.

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

Out of all the reactions Kiethara could have had, she would never have imagined her reaction now. Her eyes flew open and she saw the hands she had in Navadar's hair disappear. Ridiculously, she had become invisible. Why in the world was she embarrassed by the current situation?!

With a gasp, Kiethara spun to face Gandador.

He didn't seem to have changed a bit, even though it had been months since she had seen him last. He had the same dark, heavy atmosphere about him. He remained to be tall, thin, and pale, with his dark eyes observant and an expression that was unfathomable. Gandador's hair remained shortly cropped, although untidy, while the exact same black cloak he had adorned last time hung loosely around him, under which his familiar sword was fitted on his right hip. Boots, large and worn, covered his feet, appearing to have traveled an infinite amount of steps. This sudden appearance sent a wave of shock through her, so strong that she could not recall the burning hatred she felt towards this man.

She then remembered Navadar.

"Navadar, run!" Kiethara yelled, shoving him in the direction he had come from. Gandador's eyes darted towards her. She was giving away her position, but she didn't care. The advantage of being invisible meant little to her when Navadar was in danger.

"Gandador!" he exclaimed. He staggered back in response to her shoves, but he was too stunned to do anything about it.

"Navadar! Go!" she tried again to move him, but he was too strong.

"I'm not leaving you!" Navadar sounded insulted that she had even suggested such a thing.

"Oh yes, you are!" she demanded. Gandador continued to stand there, staring directly at Navadar. He had his arms crossed and his expression became almost amused, although his eyes were calculating.

"No," Navadar growled, fists clenched and determined.

"I've fought him before. I can handle this," she insisted, not sure if it was a lie or not.

"No!" he repeated.

"If you don't leave, I'll die trying to protect you," she told him harshly. His determined expression wavered. Although she might have overdone that statement, he could not deny the logic behind it.

"Go!" she said, shoving him again. He took another couple steps back, but didn't leave. Kiethara huffed in frustration.

She was desperate and she had no other choice—she would have to resort to her magic.

The winds picked up around the three of them. Gandador showed no surprise at the sudden change in weather, but Navadar did. His mouth gaped as the wind pushed him back, nudging him forcefully until he began to retreat. It seemed as though her cruel winds had finally crumbled his determination. With one long glance behind him, he ran towards the surrounding trees.

The relief Kiethara felt when Navadar departed was so strong that she became visible again. She momentarily forgot about Gandador as she sighed to express her relief.

"Who was that?" Gandador asked, causing her to gasp loudly again. She hadn't heard his approach and he was much closer now, far too close. Her shield appeared as she spun to face him.

"A friend," she replied, eyes narrowing.

"He has much more than friendship on his mind, my dear," Gandador replied with a taunting grin. She scowled at him, hands balling into fists.

"I apologize. I didn't mean to be an intruder," Gandador chuckled.

"Then leave," she interjected.

"However," he continued. "I have every right to be so."

"What in the world would give you that idea?" she asked. He was silent for a long minute.

"Simple," he finally said, smile widening, though his eyes bore into hers. "It is my right as a father."

Silence.

It wasn't a normal silence. It wasn't an awkward silence, where you had nothing to say. It wasn't a heated silence, where you were too angry to speak. No, this was a silence that could be heard. And it was screaming.

Numbness.

Confusion.

Disbelief.

At first, the words simply did not register. She was numb, as if she hadn't even heard his words in the first place. When the words finally did make sense, she was confused. It was as though she had the words mixed up.

She did come to realize that she had them in the right order and, when that happened, she almost drowned in the disbelief. Disbelief that he would be insane enough to suggest that. It was mad! The second wave of shock hit her harder than the first and her shield disappeared.

In the silence, Gandador's black eyes bore into her navy blues. He raised one eyebrow. Kiethara took a step back, shaking her head.

"You're a fool to think I will believe that," Kiethara said, slightly hysterical.

"Am I?" he mumbled.

All of a sudden, he was inches from her. She hadn't seen his movement; it had been much too fast. He now towered over her, staring down at her with shockingly cold eyes. Kiethara felt herself shrink under his glare.

Then his hand was around her throat and suddenly she was gasping, bringing her own two hands to his wrist. She clawed at his life threatening grip, trying to tear it off her, or tear his flesh, but he didn't even flinch.

Gandador then took her mother's locket, which was clasped around her neck, into his other hand. She was surprised at this gesture, shocked by the way he took it so gently. He didn't seem the type of man who could succumb to any amount of tenderness or compassion, especially to a belonging of a woman whom he had killed.

"Where did you find this?" he asked, with his eyes unexpectedly distant.

"What does it matter?" Kiethara half-gasped. "Y-You've seen it before!"

Desperately, she began to kick any part of him she could reach. Again, he didn't seem to notice her pitiful attempts.

"Why don't I show you the truth?" Gandador asked.

The winds started to howl.

They whipped at her hair, making it twitch spastically. Its fury caused her to freeze in shock; yes, the wind had been blowing in her fear, but she wasn't doing this now. She couldn't move. It seemed Gandador was about to kill her with the same element she had used against him before.

But Gandador's expression, for once, was puzzled. He looked up from Earthaphoria's locket and scanned the clearing, eyes roving, until they brightened. As though he had realized something.

"You cannot stop me, Aaron Pervel. I find it amusing that it will be me to enlighten her. You awoke twelve years ago and you still haven't told her the truth?" Gandador called out.

Kiethara had no time to find the meaning in his confusing words. Gandador was distracted, so she bit into his hand, hard, until she tasted blood.

Finally, Gandador acknowledged her attempt at freedom. He jerked his hand back with a hiss, letting go of the locket, which landed on her chest with a soft thud. Without even pausing for a breath, Kiethara twisted herself away and sprinted off.

Her bare feet padded quietly on the forest floor as she pushed her legs to their limit. Behind her, she heard a sigh.

"You just make my work harder, Pervel," Gandador called out again. Then it was quiet.

As soon as it was, Kiethara realized how much she hated it. She strained her ears for any hint of Gandador's whereabouts. Stress built in her chest as water did before a dam, pressing hard, making it difficult to breath. The suspense became unbearable. She wanted to scream.

With one powerful push off the ground, she launched herself into the air. The familiar feeling of magic and air cradling her calmed her slightly, but not enough. She rose higher and higher until she cleared the tops of the trees. There she stopped.

She took a ragged gasp, sucking in the blissful forest air. She hadn't run like that in a while and it definitely took a toll. She should have been more prepared for this. She should have known he would have returned sooner rather than later and she internally kicked herself for not training hard enough.

Gandador suddenly appeared in front of her.

She didn't have time to react. He grabbed her forearms as she screeched and thrashed violently. The forest could not die.

"Now, we can't have that," Gandador mumbled.

Kiethara screamed.

Overwhelming pain shot through her body, making her limbs and her mind spasm in agony until her thoughts clouded to the point where the pain was the only thing she could recognize.

Kiethara didn't know how much time elapsed before she could grab a hold of some inkling of sense through the chaotic burning. All she could comprehend was that she felt her stomach drop, as though she were falling down. Down made sense, for she had been up, and there was really no possibility that she was still in the air, focusing on her powers, but that meant she was falling, and falling fast.

As the agony continued to wash over her, she could pinpoint where it was coming from. It seemed to ignite in her forearms, searing through her veins until it had burned every part of her useless body. No, not burned. The pain was more like...ice. Too cold. Unbearable. Intolerable.

Then it stopped.

The pain stopped! At first, that was all she could feel. It made her numb with relief. She took deep gasps; the succulent air came in and out easily, indicating that she was still alive. It seemed almost impossible that that was the case. It was more likely that she had died, for the pain to stop so suddenly.

Her senses finally returned to her in full and she realized that her stomach no longer had that sweeping sensation. There was solid ground beneath her feet and she was steady on it. Did that mean she had not fallen out of the sky? Another impossibility, but one she gladly accepted.

It took her another minute to realize her teeth were clenched. It made her feel a tad bit better to know that Gandador had only gotten the pleasure of hearing her scream once. She shuddered into whatever her back was pressed up against. A tree trunk, perhaps?

"Kiethara?" a voice chanted in her ears as though it were singing to her. She opened her eyes.

Gandador was leaning over her. His eyes were wickedly amused as they took in the expression on her face. It made her sick.

Kiethara's muscled clenched again, but not in fear, in anger. It seared through her veins as the pain had, with her eager encouragement. It was exactly what she needed; she smiled as her crystals grew brighter. Gandador would have to pay the price for the dark deeds he had performed not just against her but also everyone else caught in his merciless regime. She wanted to make sure of that.

Kiethara's hands burst into flames—wonderful, blazing flames that licked at her hands harmlessly. She could feel their heat, so she knew he could, but again, he didn't seem to be fazed by them. Instead, he quickly pushed her wrists away from him. She squirmed, but there was no soft spot to his strength. The fire began to lose its intensity and her flimsy efforts dwindled down.

"There, there. Have you finally seen reason? Will you calm down long enough so I can show you proof?" Gandador asked.

"Proof of what?" she hissed.

"Proof that I am your father."

"There is no proof," Kiethara growled. "You aren't my...my father. You can't be!"

"I am. Tell me, have you ever opened that locket?"

His simple question threw her off. The locket? It had nothing to do with anything, it was just a piece of her mother that he hadn't finished off.

"Why?" she asked.

"Just answer the question. I'm not playing these games," his tone was patient, but his eyes became menacing.

"No," Kiethara replied in a very small voice.

"Give it to me," he ordered.

"No!"

Gandador's hand left her wrist and closed around her throat again. He shoved her against the tree.

"Will you let the forest die for something as meaningless as this?" Gandador's hand tightened to emphasize his words.

"Fine," she wheezed. Again, she had to admit the truth. The forest was what mattered. She was at his mercy. With her free hand, she reached for the chain, tearing herself apart internally as he released her throat and took it from her.

"Thank you," he said, with some mix of emotions. His smile was smug.

With his free hand Gandador took the locket. He placed the golden heart in his palm, holding it away from the two of them. He then placed his thumb on top of the engraved _E_. He did so, again, tenderly.

" _Evol_ ," he muttered.

Nothing could have prepared Kiethara for what happened next.

The locket clicked open.

Music suddenly echoed through the forest. The sound was...intoxicating. _Pure_. The melody that played wiped clean all her other feelings: her pain, her anger, and her sorrow. It was unlike any other sound she had heard before. Not like a bird chirping, or the sound of a voice. Aaron had once tried to describe to her a bell, but Kiethara had never heard a bell before, so she couldn't be sure.

This, however, was not what made her freeze in surprise.

It was her melody. The song that played over and over again in her head with no rhyme or reason. It was the song she hummed almost every single day. She stood there, dumbstruck, finally understanding that it was her mother's song. Her mother must have sung this to her when she was a little girl. Tears rolled down her cheeks. The answer had been so obvious! In fact, it had literally been right under her nose this whole time.

As she watched, petals began to rise out of the locket. They all seemed to be rose petals, but of different colors, colors that she hadn't even known were possible for a rose to become. The song seemed to carry them as they floated higher, a sense of magic spinning out of the locket as fast as the petals did. The sweetest smell scented the air.

The petals began to form something. It was as though they had been called to order. They suddenly sped into a blur, frantically trying to obtain whatever goal they had. Most of the lighter colors, she noticed, went to the left, while the darker colors shifted to the right. The sheer amount of the petals confounded her—how could all of this fit into the locket? Then the movements stopped.

Kiethara stared, transfixed, at the image they portrayed.

On the left there was a woman and on the right there was a man. The women had light, sunny brown hair that fell down her back with slight curls. Her skin was a lovely golden hue and her lips were pink and full. Her figure was slender. A few freckles spotted her cheeks and nose. One of her most beautiful features were her eyes, which were a light, dazzling blue, the color of the sky on a cloudless day. Her dark eyelashes contrasted perfectly with them. All in all, she was a very beautiful woman.

The man was quite the opposite. For what was light with the woman was dark with him. He had choppy, short black hair. His skin was deathly pale, but there was not a visible mark upon it. Just as pale were his lips, and thin. His eyes were...intimidating, simply black holes that held not the slightest hint of emotion. It was odd, because his lips were turned up at the corners, as though he was happy, but it was nothing compared to the woman's brilliant smile. And in between the two of them floated a red heart.

It wasn't until Kiethara noticed that Gandador was staring at her with an expectant expression did the image truly register with her. All of a sudden, she realized the two people looked very familiar.

Earthaphoria and Gandador.

Her mother and...and her...

No! It just couldn't be! Her mother—her sweet, innocent mother—could not have loved a man as vile and as cruel as Gandador. It was impossible. There was no way that nature could have let that happen.

Kiethara shook her head frantically.

"Can you deny the truth? Are you that naïve and stubborn?" Gandador asked. The petals floated back down to the locket and he clicked it shut. The following silence was eerie.

"Truth? I see no truth. My mother would have never..." she trailed off.

"Yet here you are. Here I am. And here is this," Gandador nodded towards the locket before throwing it on the ground. A soft moan escaped Kiethara's lips.

"Are you in pain?" he asked with a smirk. "Child, you don't know the meaning of pain..."

With one swipe of his arm he smacked her to the left. Stunned, Kiethara watched the trees flashed by until the ground painfully stopped her movement. With a groan, she struggled to her feet and put her hands out.

"Feeling sentimental?" he taunted as he walked closer.

"That's exactly my point!" Kiethara cried. "How can she have loved you when you have not loved a single thing?"

"I might have loved your mother at some point. I knew I loved her power," Gandador replied, his voice level.

"W-what?"

"Your mother's power," he repeated. "When I had first seen it I had been blown away. Your mother even found it amusing, how it struck me..."

His voice sounded slightly distant, though his eyes remained as sharp as ever. His memory sounded familiar. The connection she was making sent ice through her veins.

Navadar was like that. Even the smallest amount of her power's miracles always seemed to throw him off his feet. He saw her magic much differently than she saw it. To him it was unreal, a fantasy. Could Gandador and Navadar be similar in that way?

No. The answer had to be no. Navadar, no matter what the future threw at him, would never grow into what Gandador had become. Navadar didn't even use magic.

"I began to crave it. I also didn't particularly enjoy the fact that your mother was more powerful than me. Foolishly, she began to teach me some of what she knew. It was easy, after that. Taking magic from your beloved forest is just too easy; why, a child could do it. It's a shame the world has begun to stop using it."

"That still doesn't prove you love anything. All it proves is that you're a greedy, power-hungry monster," she said angrily.

"Say, if you were a poor beggar and you were suddenly presented with a person willing to give you as much money as you wanted, could you refuse?" he asked.

"That's a bit hard for me to answer, considering the blessed fact that I've never needed anything more than what I have," she replied harshly.

"Simply because you have never been presented with an opportunity as I had. It would be...entertaining to see how you would react if roles were reversed."

"I lied. Now there is something I need more of. The truth!"

"I'm giving it to you, child! Aaron has kept you in the dark for far too long," he told her.

"Why do you care?!" she cried, maddened.

"You have been raised to see me as some evil being plaguing your life. That is, once again, Aaron feeding you information that is hardly true. I have my morals like any other man. I have my definition of what is right and what is wrong. And Aaron has his, which he is forcing on to you. Well, I believe everyone has the right to the truth. Especially my daughter," he declared, stressing the last word to torture her. She snorted.

"The truth! Hah! Everything you have stolen, every person you have killed, every drop of blood that you have spilt...does it all mean nothing to you? But the truth has become to mean so much to you! What sense does that make?"

"Perfect sense. The truth doesn't require any goodness to it. If you tell the truth, it does not make you a righteous man. The truth does not bring about happiness, no, quite the opposite! The truth can hurt, which is part of the reason why I use it," he finished with a dark chuckle.

Kiethara could only look up at him.

"Tell me, have I ever lied to you?" Gandador asked, breaking the silence.

Inside her head, a calm _no_ spoke.

That couldn't be right.

Gandador was a deceiver. He wanted her dead. Of course he had lied to her. He must have! It had to be a part in his plan. Lie, torture, and then death. You couldn't have one without the other two.

"I don't know," she hedged.

"Don't play games. You know the truth," he snapped.

So could he be right then? Could everything spoken out of his lips be true? Could he really be her father?

Did it matter?

Exactly. It didn't matter. No matter what he was or who he said he was, he would always hold motives against her. As long as he wanted the forest burning she would fight him. The assertion sparked a series of emotions in her, the most prominent being anger. Her hands burst into flames.

Without any hesitation, she lunged.

Perhaps it was the fact that Kiethara was doing something so incredibly foolish that made Gandador stand easily, not doing anything about her attack. The force of her body sent them to the ground as her hands set fire to his cloak, brazing his skin. Gandador chuckled from underneath her.

A heavy blow came to her stomach, sending her flying back. She collided painfully with a tree before landing on the dirt with a muffled thud.

The hit had been bewildering. Gandador had not moved his arms, yet the force that had hit her made her surprised she was still breathing.

Kiethara saw him stand up from the corner of her eye. He waved away the fire burning at his cloak with a lazy flick of his wrist, making his way over to her. Struggling to stand up, Kiethara braced herself for what would come next; meanwhile, hundreds of possible attacks raced through her mind, each more feasible than the last.

"You honestly allow this to guard the forest, Pervel? Not a very wise move..." Gandador called out. Kiethara scowled at him.

He raised his eyebrows. "You certainly have a lot of fight in you. Now, we can't have that..."

He held his left arm out, towards Kiethara's throat, his face adorned with his usual smirk.

It felt as though the air in her lungs was being pulled out. Desperately, she tried to suck the precious air back in, but it was a useless attempt. Her lungs began to burn for the necessity that had literally been snatched from her and she suddenly found herself on her knees.

She noticed, even with the slight spinning of her thoughts, that her oxygen and her strength seemed to be correlated and, as the gases continued to pull away from her, so did the vigor that usually supported her limbs and, more importantly, her will. All she could do was focus on the burning in her throat, matched with the thought-consuming desire to breathe again. She couldn't focus on the blurry picture before her of Gandador, or the fact that she had now fallen to all fours.

She only had to bow her head towards the ground for a couple of seconds before the air came rushing back into her lungs faster than it had been taken. Its intensity was so powerful that she had to expel it back out, for she felt as though she were choking on it. She then took shallow, steady gasps.

What had that been? What sort of magic allowed him to do that? It was sick, unreal!

His boots were much closer than she had thought they had been...

His hand grabbed the collar of her dress, lifting her up a good couple of inches before slamming her into the nearest tree. Kiethara winced, her spine jolting at the impact.

"Why do you not just kill me?" she asked, the question surprising her. But it was true, she was done, he had had his opportunities.

"That is no longer my intention," he stated.

Another dead beat of silence.

"What?" Kiethara asked blankly. He smiled.

"At first," he said very slowly. "Your mother's power shocked me. Then, I felt that if I couldn't have it, no one could. And now...I realize I can."

"What?" she repeated, even more blankly. Gandador's smile grew more pronounced. It seemed as though he had endless patience, which before now, she hadn't been afraid to test...but now that she realized he was capable of even darker powers then she had thought possible, she was wary and suspicious. He seemed one to snap back angrily at badgering questions.

"Do you see your crystals? The way they glow? The amount of magic they can hold equals the amount of magic the forest creates. Do you have an idea what kind of power I am describing?" he asked. She nodded against the rough bark.

"Imagine, now, if I had these crystals," he said in a wistful voice, his eyes roaming down to them. She shuddered at the image. "I could have all that power. Literally, in the palm of my hand."

The words hit her hard, just as everything else had today. She managed to pull her arms away from him and push them against the tree in a silent act of defiance to his proclamation. If it came down to protecting her crystals, she might have a chance—a small chance—but a chance none the less.

"Mm," he noted. "Nice try."

Kiethara did not notice the vines wrapping around the tree until it was too late. They struck her like a cobra—one thick around her middle, one around her legs, and one around her neck.

He grabbed her arm by the elbow and yanked it up, painfully, before any more vines could tie it down. He did the same with the other, despite her verbal protests, and folded them up against her chest until they were in the shape of an X. Once secured in this position, another series of vines snaked their way around her arms to keep them in place, though not one vine crossed over the gold of her bracelets.

The bracelets, of course, were embedded with a single green stone atop her wrist on each. The bracelet began a little down her arm, ending with a point on the back of her hand. They never came off. So how in the world did Gandador think he would be able to take them off, let alone use them for his own purposes?

"Lovely," he said. "For a common object such as this to hold such great power. The common saying might state a power-hungry man shall perish with his destiny, but I've yet to come to that...

"Should I take the crystals out? Your mother could not take the bracelets off. I doubt gorging them off of your flesh will do much, but I can try..." he mused.

Despite her current condition, Kiethara couldn't help but chuckle.

"Gorging them out of my flesh? Pleasant. Is that the best you can come up with?" she mocked.

"For now," he said, his face betraying no emotion. "Let's get started, then, shall we?"

He fingered her crystals, calculating.

He was actually going to do it.

The realization sent a sudden, intense stab of fear through her body. It made her veins turn to ice and her heart miss a beat, freezing time in that one silent moment. Incapacitating fear screamed out a silent _no_.

Then her shield appeared. Yet it didn't just appear; it did much more than that. It exploded.

It was as though her fear was escaping in one powerful blast. It threw her head back; she heard herself screaming as it pulsated from her. The power of the shield sent Gandador flying back, further back than he had ever sent her before. He practically ricocheted off the trees and, as he flew, the malicious vines that had bound her dropped to the forest floor. Kiethara hardly noticed her newly attained freedom, as she was still reeling in the experience, watching Gandador.

He was lying on the ground. Their eyes met as she took in his bloody nose, his flimsy attempt to push himself upright, and the dark coals turned furious from humiliation. He disappeared.

Kiethara didn't know how long she stood there. All she could do was focus on that fact that she was alive, half of her sagging in relief, while the other half watching the spot where he disappeared with rapid concentration.

Finally, her aches called for her to move. Kiethara reached for the nape of her neck before remembering he had taken her locket from her. It seemed to call to her, though, and this feeling led her stumbling in what she thought was a random direction, at least until she staggered across it. She picked it up numbly. There was neither a scratch nor a dent, no harm done. At least, not to it, anyway.

"Kiethara?"

Kiethara did not respond to the voice. She was numb. No emotion, no feeling, no energy. She didn't feel the cool chain of the locket as she placed it around her neck.

"Kiethara?" the voice asked, worried now.

Finally, feelings started at the fringes of herself and worked its way through her, the emotions that replaced the numbness surprising her. She realized, suddenly, that she was murderously angry. Her eyes watered with hot tears, tears that stung with fresh betrayal. Her fists clenched.

She spun around to face the Spirit of Aaron.

" _You liar!_ "

**CHAPTER 13**

**TRUTH**

"Kiethara, calm down!" Aaron said sternly.

"No! All this time, all my life! It's all been fed by lies!" she screamed at him. Her hands burst into flames. She didn't notice, for her rage consumed all her thoughts as she turned her back to Aaron and stalked off. She just had to get away from him.

"I have not been feeding you lies," Aaron told her, still calm. He kept pace with her easily, but that only infuriated her further.

So Kiethara spun back around to face him. As she did, her enflamed hands brushed a nearby tree, catching it on fire. They spread quickly; she could feel the intensity of the heat as they burned behind her. But she was so far gone she ignored it. Aaron didn't.

"Kiethara! Mind what you're doing!" he yelled back as the fire behind her disappeared. His tone had become so forceful, the atmosphere around him so menacing, that it brought her up short. The fires on her hands fizzled out.

"Tell me," Kiethara said in a low, broken voice. "Is Gandador my father?"

The atmosphere around Aaron once again changed instantly. Instead of menacing, it was now somber, and...hesitant. Unwilling. His hand extended halfway, but then fell, as though he had thought better of it. Kiethara did not know what she would have done—could have done—if he had touched her. Any trace of love or respect for him had been sapped out of her by Gandador.

He finally decided to answer. He sighed a worn, defeated sigh.

"Yes."

Kiethara had expected his answer, no matter how much she had not wanted to hear it. The fact, this confirmation, did nothing for her though except bring her lower, and she continued to spiral into a deep pit of pain.

Gandador was right. The truth did not necessarily bring anything good. It could, in fact, bring pain! The truth now stabbed at her heart, fierce and unrelenting. Gandador was gone, but he had left her with something more terrible than the blows he inflicted. How could her mother do such a thing? On the stone of her grave it was written: Our greatest gift is love. But what did that mean now? When her love had been wasted on Gandador? She had loved him before she had loved her. What did that say about her mother's love, or of the love for a child who was the spawn of a fiend?

And with the truth came the revelation of lies. Aaron had been the only one to lie about this truth. Aaron! His betrayal was the most painful thing she had felt today.

"I can't believe you!" Kiethara spat in a disgusted tone.

"Would this have been any easier if I had told you earlier? Would you have survived the first encounter with Gandador if you had known the truth?" he asked.

"I barely survived this one! All because he held this power over me—he had me stunned! You can't defend yourself on this one, Aaron! There is nothing you could possibly say to make this better. I know now. Gandador was right," she hissed, hating the fact that she knew she was right. Aaron was silent for a long time.

"There is no way to deny the truth. Your appearance states it all. You have all your mother's features, yes, but they have been darkened—not without beauty—by Gandador. Your dark blue eyes, your hair...everything except for your skin tone, which is purely your father's." he sighed. This time, she was silent.

"I have made many mistakes in my life and yours, I admit that. I am sorry. I can't change what I've done...and I cannot change the truth."

"You can stop telling lies! Did you really think you could keep this from me my entire life?" she asked.

"Of course I didn't think that, Kiethara. I will stop lying to you. You're right. You're strong enough to know, and handle, the truth."

Aaron paused again, as though he were chewing over the right words to use. Kiethara could understand his hesitation, for she was already in so much pain. What else would he say that could possibly destroy her?

"I lied because I didn't like the truth any more than you do," Aaron began. "I...was ashamed that your mother fell in love with him. That a guardian made such a mistake. I didn't tell you, because I didn't want to tarnish the memory of your mother in your eyes. She was a magnificent guardian, only fooled by a man with ulterior motives. I didn't want you to suffer anything, for you had already lost so much. I feared the day you would meet Gandador. As you can see, ignorance certainly is bliss.

"When Earthaphoria first met Gandador, she had been ecstatic. Love between the outside world and the forest was common; that's how our line does not die off. Never had that relationship gone this wrong before. Only the courageous venture this far into the forest. Someone as brave as that usually fell in love with the guardian simply because of the adventure of it."

Kiethara felt a flash of smugness. Navadar was courageous; he was the same way. He had saved her life.

"Not one guardian loved an outsider enough to tell them the purest secrets of their magic, except for your mother. She was so passionate, so affectionate; it was as though she was love itself. She was the definition of love. One hundred heart beats of any person hardly matched one of hers.

"Then Gandador came. He was as brave and as selfless as Navadar...at the time. Of course, your mother fell in love with him instantaneously, just as you seemed to do with Navadar. Don't you see, Kiethara? Do you know understand why I was so against him? I was afraid you have the same love as your mother," Aaron told her.

Kiethara opened her mouth, but she didn't know which words to force out. She now understood, and it felt good to obtain some level of comprehension, but the logical conclusion she was coming to wasn't one she wanted. She loved Navadar, she admitted to herself; surely he wouldn't turn into Gandador?

"A lesson to be learned—love can make you foolish. I'm sorry to say, but your mother's love did no good for any of us. She loved him so much that she started to show him, and teach him, her magic. You see, the magic of others is very limited compared to our magic. They hardly have any magic at all, because most fear to take it from the forest. The ones who do either have dark motives to use it, or use it domestically, but the limit to the amount of magic they can store is pathetic. The most they have power for is to fly, and very few do. Sinsenta and Gandador are one of those rare beings. They've had to train their bodies to hold that amount of magic.

"That being said, your mother saw no reason why she couldn't teach Gandador what she knew. I was not with her, I couldn't stop her...not physically. I had not been awaken yet and my communication with the guardian was limited until now. I could only communicate a few words, as your mother has to you."

"Wait...what?" Kiethara's mind reeled. "You mean...my mother's voice..."

Too much.

Far, far too much. She had crossed that invisible line of her mental capability to accept all of this before this point, but now she was above and beyond what she could handle. As far as endurance went, she felt she had reached the breaking point. Now, she was certain she would snap. Not just snap, but break into a million different pieces, pieces with sharp, ragged edges and long, jagged cracks. Pieces that crashed and shattered and burst away from her to places where she would not retrieve them any time soon.

Kiethara put her back up against a tree and slid down until she felt the forest floor beneath her. She put her head in between her legs and squeezed her eyes shut, wishing the forest, Gandador, and even herself away.

"I'm sorry, Kiethara. I know how hard this must be for you. But if you must know...it is possible that you could hear your mother's voice. It takes a good ear to hear the voices of your ancestors," he complimented gently.

So her mother had talked to her in the lake. _Just fine_. That had been her mother's opinion. The words seared through her, but she was still too numb to understand what emotion they were stirring.

"I have some good news," Aaron tried again.

"Good news? In what twisted world could there be any good news after today?"

"Yours," he replied. "Navadar is safe."

The words sent a stab of guilt through her. She hadn't put one thought to him after he had left. How selfish was that? Even after that amazing kiss...

"He got out of the forest all right?"

"Yes. Events today have also made me realize something...I do not believe that Navadar is a risk to the forest as I once did."

"You mean..." she began. "Wait, what do you mean?"

"Well, Navadar doesn't use magic. He also doesn't want it gone. He doesn't have any reason to turn out as Gandador has, no reason to ask about the forest's secrets. If this changes in any way, my opinion on this matter will change, but for now...he doesn't possess the greed for power as most do."

"No," she whispered. "He doesn't."

"But he still remains to be a weakness," he warned. "Gandador knows about him now, so Navadar is in an extremely vulnerable position. He can be killed."

"I know, I know. I can do this. I can protect the forest and his life!" she declared in a somewhat weary voice.

"I've never doubted your strength before, Kiethara. Which is why we must do one last thing today."

"What is it?" Kiethara groaned.

"To the lake. It is time for you to learn the water element."

### ***

Kiethara and Aaron stood under the surface of the guardian's lake, looking up at the huge stone where the elements were described. This was it. It was time.

The last element.

Was this what Aaron had been waiting for? The lowest point in her life—that was the moment she could learn this bitter element? According to the stone, though, it made sense.

WATER

THE ELEMENT OF LIQUID AND ICE. THIS ELEMENT IS MOSTLY CONTROLED BY SORROW. TO CONTROL THIS ELEMENT YOU MUST CONTROL YOUR SORROW.

"What does this mean?" Aaron asked.

Kiethara blew a few bubbles out of her mouth before biting her lip, musing on her answer. What did it mean? She had never gotten the answer completely right before and now the desire to do so reached an all-time high, morphing into a craving for redemption from the mishaps and challenges that have made her stumble. It was the last element, and her last chance.

"You can't be...overwhelmed by the sorrowful situations you are put through. The element of water is connected directly to despondency, so how you react to your sorrow is exactly how the water will react. The more you control one, the more you control the other."

"Excellent, Kiethara," he said. "Your answer is correct. Your emotions are interlocked with your power more than you could ever imagine."

"Why?" she asked, gazing up at the stone. Aaron chuckled.

"The fault is mine. I had collected so much magic, when I was alive, that is, that I couldn't find a sufficient way to disperse it. It took a while, but I finally discovered my complex emotions to be the answer. I do not wish to breach too far into this subject, though...one day, you will know the story well enough. You can use your magic because of your emotions and that connection was born with the birth of the forest."

"Oh," she replied. The words seemed inadequate, but she couldn't think of anything to say. She was a bit incensed at him brushing off the topic for another time, again.

"To the surface, Kiethara," he ordered.

Kiethara turned around and made her way to the center of the lake, to then rise to the surface. But then her eyes fell upon her mother's grave. She suddenly froze.

"Aaron, wait..." Kiethara said. She gazed at her mother's grave with a sense of longing, torn between the terrifying possibilities.

"Yes?"

"You said I could talk to my mother. Could I try? Try that? Now?"

"I...suppose you could, but it takes serious magic. I do not know what you heard before..." He sounded doubtful. Did he think her insane?

"I had asked 'How did I do?' or something as that. And then her voice answered 'Just fine,'" she told him eagerly.

"Well, you can try."

Kiethara took a deep breath of the lake water. Fear and anticipation made her stomach clench and her crystals light up. But there was no wind to blow down here.

"Mother? Earthaphoria?" she called out in a rush of bubbles.

The sweet voice answered immediately.

"I'm sorry—" Earthaphoria's voice started, very faintly, but then it faded as suddenly as the powerful rushing of a stream carried the salmon away. Kiethara staggered back a step.

"Did you hear that?" she gasped.

"Yes," Aaron said, nodding. "That was your mother."

Kiethara fell silent, overwhelmed with confusion and grief. Aaron's tone was withholding; it told her that he would provide her with no more explanation to what this was.

Just fine.

_I'm sorry_.

Those were the words she had and, although they were accompanied with a bitter sorrow, she would accept them with gratitude. She would cling on to them.

"It seems your mother does not like the way you found out about Gandador. I suppose that's what the apology is for," Aaron told her.

Kiethara didn't say anything, but made her way to the surface. As she clambered onto the grass, her body chimed with aches and pains that nearly crippled her. She sighed. It would be a long night.

"All right, Kiethara. Let's get started," he said. He stood closer to the lake than he normally did. She followed his example.

"I know you've gone through a lot today, but I need you to think back. From today's attack I want you to pick one memory, one moment, which caused you the most grief."

With a suppressed sigh, she closed her eyes.

Gandador's pale face filled her head, obliterating the happy, sensual feeling she had been enjoying moments before. It was twisted into its usual smirk, sending ice through her veins as well as fire.

But all of a sudden, it changed.

Actually, it shifted its angle, its perspective. It changed from the Gandador she had known to the Gandador she now knew. It was a different light that her enemy was bathed in now. She still undeniably hated him, but every other feeling was confused. The ice in her veins turned to fire and the fire turned to ice. All because she now knew that he was her father.

How? How was it possible that those two could have loved each other? The thought was enough to ignite grief.

With that thought, Kiethara opened her eyes.

"Now, Kiethara. Hold on to your sorrow. Focus on the emotion and let it flow to the river."

Aaron's words were a bit confusing, but she tried her best to make sense of them. She released what she thought was magic and sorrow, the two entwined together, and directed them towards the water.

"Feed them into the water, take complete control," he instructed.

Kiethara did so.

The water of the lake seemed to brighten some; she focused on one spot in particular. Her father. Her mother. Her father and her mother. The thought helped feed her magic with the appropriate emotion.

The surface of the water twitched up for a few seconds. It created a small dome of water, bubbling up with a prospect that made her heart flutter in anticipation. It became a couple inches wide, but then it sunk back into the water with a quiet splash.

Disappointed, she turned to Aaron. "How was that?"

"It was something, at least. Perhaps you need a stronger memory. You can't only feel sorrow; you have to be filled with it. Try again."

So she needed a different memory, then. What else could possibly be more disturbing then that crucial fact she had been enlightened with? Her mother dying, perhaps, but she couldn't even remember that.

Wait! Her mother!

Just a few moments ago she had heard her mother's sweet voice, which itself has been filled with woe. Those words of apology had almost made her cry.

She closed her eyes, slamming them shut, while at the same time blocking out any other feeling that threatened to grab hold of her concentration. For once in her life, she wanted nothing more than the grief of a daughter's early loss to overcome her, something she had been pulling away from for as long as she could remember. It was as though she were trying to teach herself not to swim, not to reach up from the flood she had been fighting. But alas, it was working, and her heart grew heavier.

She opened her eyes and gazed upon the same spot of water. She found her magic and projected it, letting it flow.

A small sphere of water lifted off the surface. It hovered in the air before them, shimmering and sparkling in the dulling sunlight. Her eyes widened to the size of the image before her.

It fell back down.

Frustration overwhelmed Kiethara. Why couldn't she do anything more than that? Why couldn't she hold it for any longer? She had the emotion, the source, and the fresh wounds to correlate with her power. Was she too weak to handle a simple thing as sorrow? Her hands burst into flames.

"Easy, Kiethara," Aaron soothed. "You are doing extremely well. Why don't you get some well-deserved rest?"

Kiethara didn't utter a word to him, but took his advice and stomped out of the clearing. Previous rage at the betrayal of Aaron began to resurface. On top of that, her body was throbbing everywhere. Her stomach ached from the blow to the gut, her legs felt like jelly from their recent strain, and her head pulsed because...well, because of everything. After every blink of her eye she had to fight to pry them back open again. Her feet dragged, but she didn't have the strength or the mental willpower to pull herself into the air.

Her body, her magic, and her mental determination were exhausted. She wanted to give up. And what better way to succumb than to succumb to blissful sleep?

Kiethara reached her clearing and threw herself into her hammock. She allowed not a single whisper of a thought to pass through her head. She numbed as she rocked.

Finally, sleep came, ending the longest day she had ever lived.

**CHAPTER 14**

**ENLIGHTEN**

Kiethara's eyes snapped open.

A chilly gust of wind rocked her hammock with such a force it almost flipped over. She screamed, but the sound was lost in the fierce howl of the wind. She clutched the side of her hammock tightly, yet it did no use. Another gust rocked it violently and Kiethara tumbled out of it and into the grass.

She landed facedown. All her previous injuries from the day before came back to life. Her locket dug into her skin.

Kiethara groaned into the dirt.

Around her, she could hear the chaos the wind was creating. The branches of the surrounding trees groaned and the weaker ones snapped against its mighty strength. The wind pulled at her waist long hair almost painfully. It shrieked and howled and bellowed as it rippled through the forest.

Curiosity eventually overtook any other feeling of reluctance to get up, so Kiethara lifted her head to see what could possibly be going on. The sight she saw wasn't pretty.

Tree limbs, some of decent size, scattered her clearing, which was decorated with a plethora of fallen leaves. The clouds above were shockingly black; the only light to be seen was the lightning that flashed at random intervals. Any thunder must have been drowned out by the wind. Surprisingly, there was not a drop of rain.

Kiethara did not know how long she lay there, marveling the sheer power of the storm. She was slightly annoyed that it had awakened her, bringing her forcibly back to the cursed reality she lived in. Unfortunately, there was no changing the past. As she now fully understood, self-pity got you nowhere.

She pulled herself to her feet, the wind almost knocking her right back down. She let out a low whistle. She certainly hadn't seen a storm like this in a while.

A dull burn in her throat enlightened her to the fact that she was very, very thirsty. She spun on her heel, only to get her hair blown into her face. Lovely. It would take an hour just to get to a lake. With that thought of encouragement, she pummeled her way through the current of air toward the trees.

Kiethara pushed herself to the trees and sprinted the inches that separated her from the next. Her skin caught the wind for only a short moment, mercifully. She kept with this tactic, only pausing to catch her breath or attempt to control her shaking. Her progress was slow, but effective.

She paused, almost at her lake, when she heard a noise. She spun around, scanning the perimeter, but nothing alighted to her eyes. Wouldn't it be lovely—and just her luck—if Gandador decided to show at this very moment?

"Kiethara!" a muffled voice called out.

Kiethara spun around once again. It didn't take her long to spot a figure walking towards her, coming from the direction she had been heading. It also didn't take her long to realize who this figure was.

Navadar.

"Navadar!" she cried, running out to close the distance between them, despite the wind.

"Kiethara!" he cried again, though this time his tone was colored with relief. He hurried towards her as well; as soon as she was in arm's length he swept her up into a crushing embrace.

"You're all right, you're all right, you're all right!" she sang, feeling the same amount of relief as he did. She had believed Aaron's words, yes, but having the real proof in front of her finally quelled her silent fears.

"Of course I am! What happened?" he suddenly asked, holding her out at arm's length to get a better look at her.

"Um...long story?" she tried.

"Oh, no. None of that. This time, I get the whole story," Navadar replied.

Kiethara sighed.

"Well..." she started, but was cut off by a howl of wind.

"What?" he half-yelled. Kiethara gritted her teeth in frustration.

Then she had an idea.

She raised her hands, crystals glowing brightly. A golden sphere suddenly appeared around them, enveloping them in gold...and silence.

"Huh. Much better," Kiethara said, looking up to see Navadar's surprised expression.

"You're certain you got out of the forest without a problem?" she asked, scanning him over again. He wore his usual boots, but this time black trousers were tucked into them. A heavy brown cloak hung over his shoulders, falling past his knees. He wore gloves of the same color, and his hair was slightly ruffled (the way she preferred it) but there did not seem to be a scratch on him.

"I'm fine," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "The question is, are you?"

"Yes," she said.

"No, you're not. You still have not told me what happened."

"Foolishness," she sighed.

"You call everything foolish," he pointed out.

"Yes, well, that's simply because everything that happens to me usually is, I dare say. I might add, I do not call everything foolish."

"You're changing the subject," Navadar accused.

Kiethara paused for a minute before answering. "So?"

"So tell me, what happened?"

"Well, after I got you to leave"—he grimaced at the words—"I...he..." she chocked, finding herself unable to finish.

Navadar's abrupt appearance had brought her out of her horrid reality, back into a small fantasy, but now he was forcing her back into it. She now had something she was keeping from him; indeed, how could this fact have such a complicated effect on not just her situation with Gandador and Aaron but with Navadar as well? She couldn't keep something like this from him, not if she wanted to be honest with herself, and she would have to do it now. She would have to be the one to enlighten him.

She turned away from Navadar. She was ashamed of what she was.

When they first met, they had been from different worlds, but the one thing they had had in common was the whispered fears and righteous anger they shared against Gandador. One common enemy united armies, as they said. She had a new reason to hate Gandador, but once she told him, he would have a new reason to hate her. The daughter of a killer.

"Kiethara?" he asked, alarmed.

Kiethara lifted her head to look at him with tortured eyes.

A bright light then blinded them both.

She turned to look at it so fast her neck cracked. The Spirit of Aaron was calmly walking towards them; the two of them froze in surprise, though for what she figured to be two very different reasons. Aaron did not like Navadar. What in the world was he doing here?

Aaron did not utter a word as he made his way towards her shield. He continued to walk, though she expected him to stop, until his golden figure fused with the walls of her shield and made its way through to the other side. There he stopped, a foot away from them both.

"How did you do that?!" Kiethara demanded in a breathless voice.

"Far beyond the point right now, Kiethara," Aaron shook his head, but she sensed a faint smile. "Are you going to tell him?"

"I have to," she whispered. He nodded.

"Tell me what?" Navadar asked.

Kiethara turned to face him slowly. She raised her eyes to him in the same slow motion, gazing into his forest greens that were a few inches above her own with caution. She parted her lips, inhaled, and then found the words locked inside her.

"I can't," she sighed, turning her gaze away. She couldn't bear it anymore.

"Tell me what?!" Navadar stressed.

"He'll hate me," she whimpered.

Gandador's opinion about the truth was more believable now. Before, he seemed the type of man that was only capable of lies—could you have evil without them?—but now she realized that perhaps the truth could be just as evil, just as painful to endure as a thousand lies. The truth just might cost her Navadar. Kiethara had to admit she had no experience with love, having loved but two people, but he meant something to her, something that she was not sure she wanted to lose.

"What? No, I wouldn't..." he began.

"Navadar," Aaron started. Kiethara looked up to see his reaction. "Kiethara...has learned something about herself—"

"What is it?" Navadar asked, his face intense.

"It's about the identity of her father."

"I'm not following," he said blankly.

"He—"

"Oh!" Kiethara cried, exasperated. Aaron's words suddenly infuriated her. He had lied to her for years, so who was he to tell Navadar what she had to discover herself? "It's Gandador!"

There was a dead beat of silence.

"What?" he asked.

No one replied.

"You...Why, you cannot be serious!" he exclaimed, looking as though he was about to laugh.

Kiethara bit her lip and entwined her fingers behind her back. Her heart forgot to beat.

"Impossible," he whispered.

"She is speaking the truth," Aaron confirmed in a wary voice.

"N-no! This cannot be!" he shook his head.

Kiethara realized something.

His denial was her denial. A statement simply stated like that, and one so absurd to comprehend as this one was, was not going to be alleged true by the listener without something far more solid than that. Proof was what he needed, because proof had been what she had needed. Without it, she would not be held accountable and her words would become the fantasy this forest had been to him before he had seen it with his own eyes.

Wordlessly, she removed her locket from round her neck. She ignored Navadar's puzzled expression, and Aaron's small sound of disapproval. She placed the locket in the palm of her pale hand, placing her thumb over the delicately engraved _E_. She closed her eyes, her crystals glowed briefly, and then she muttered the alien word.

" _Evol._ "

The locket clicked open.

The dizzying show of petals began. She watched them for a second time, but this time with a sinking disappointment. The same question ran through her mind over and over again: Why would her mother do such a thing? Had she really been so ignorant to his true intentions, or had they changed during the course of things? These questions ran round and round, never coming to an end. Or an answer.

After one last painful note of music, the petals fell back into the locket and the golden doors swung shut. Kiethara shivered as she put it back around her neck, raising her head.

Navadar's eyes were transfixed on the locket as it rose up and down on her chest in rhythm to her breathing. His mouth dropped open noiselessly and his green eyes were wild. She dropped her gaze, feeling ashamed.

_I'm sorry_ , _Navadar_ , she thought. _I'm sorry you were dragged into this, I'm sorry that you fell in love with me, and I'm sorry this is what your adventure turned out to be. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry..._

But she didn't have the courage to speak these words aloud. Actually, she didn't have the courage to mutter anything at all.

"You now know the truth, Navadar," Aaron said matter-of-factly.

Silence again. Kiethara peeked up at Navadar from under her lashes and jumped at what she saw. His fists were balled and his expression was furious.

"You traitor!" he spat. "Have you been keeping this from me all this time?!"

"N-no! I-I just..." she stammered, shrinking back in fear as he towered over her.

"I trusted you! And all this time you've been his _daughter_!"

Navadar stepped towards her and raised his fist as if to hit her. Kiethara looked up at him in terror. She had expected a reaction of pain and anger, maybe loss, but certainly not of violence! He must hate her so, if he found it in himself to hit her. A sob escaped her lips at the thought of it; she closed her eyes in preparation to receive the blow. She had no fight left in her, not against anything.

"That's enough!"

Kiethara's eyes snapped open, shocked to see that Aaron was in between them.

"If you lay a finger on her, I will make certain it is your last act!" Aaron spoke the words so forcefully, and with such supremacy, that she shuddered from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet. He was terrifying even to her, and that she could not handle—she needed to get out.

Tears were streaming down her face as she lifted the shield around them. The wind took advantage without a second to spare, attacking her body with such vigor that she almost froze to the spot. Yet her terror gave her the will to lift her feet and break into a fast sprint.

Her feet took her to the only place she could imagine being. She craved for her familiar clearing, for the warmth of it. It didn't hurt her; it never cast her out, or tried to hit her. It could do nothing for her but offer her the solace she needed, but it would ask for nothing in return.

It did not take her long to reach her clearing, but by the time she did she was shaking violently from head to toe. She crossed her arms and dragged her half-numbed body to the center, where a spinning hammock and two sturdy trees awaited her. She knew she could not sit in her hammock, but why not the tree?

Climbing up did not prove to be as much of a challenge as she thought it would. Once she was well concealed in the branches, the wind found it hard to reach her. She adjusted the thick branches till they covered her before huddling against the trunk and closing her eyes.

It took her a moment to conjure her thoughts and what she discovered was not much better than what they had been yesterday; worse, in fact.

She could only start with the basics. She was still alive. Frozen, but alive. The forest was not under attack and she did not believe Navadar would kill her...He was too good for that. She was safe, at least, from bodily harm.

Navadar hated her. The fury in his green eyes had been unmistakable. He hated her for what she was, something she could not change.

So she was alive, but devoid of something she had come to care and rely on the most...an even split in her fate, by far. Could she have had two worse days in all her existence? Had she sunk so far that the only reason she could be grateful was that she could continue to live for the forest? That was her duty, after all.

A leaf broke off and twirled through the air until it stuck itself in her hair. Yes, perhaps she was to be grateful. The forest would always be with her.

A bright light suddenly illuminated the smallest details on the bark of the tree she was clutching to. It seemed to be coming from the ground behind her, but she did not have to look to know who it was.

"Aaron," she said in a dull tone.

"Kiethara, Navadar is on his way," he warned.

"To do what, exactly? Shoot me with an arrow?" she asked.

"Oh, he would not dare, I believe I have made sure of that," he told her fiercely. "But if he does mean to hurt you again, I expect you to defend, as I have taught you to do so. Let him have the upper hand again and the forest only knows what will happen."

"I will not harm him," she declared. "Let him do whatever he may."

"Stop this, Kiethara," Aaron commanded. "Act like a guardian. You could kill this boy in your sleep."

"I beg to differ."

"Would you prefer that I sent him away?" he asked. Kiethara detected a hint of hope.

"No, Aaron, I'll take care of it myself."

"Make sure to do that," Aaron ordered before disappearing as suddenly as he had come.

A shudder ran through her as the wind picked up strength. She squeezed her eyes shut again. Go away, go away, go away! She was done with pain!

The storm howled and lightning struck. She held her breath as the heart inside her breast quickened its beat. Was that the sound of thudding boots? She could not say she had not been warned.

What on earth was she going to do? What if he meant to hit her again? She could not do what Aaron expected of her.

Kiethara brought herself to her toes, crouched on the tree limb. From this position she could gaze through the leaves and onto the clearing underneath her. By the edge of the clearing she saw a figure emerge. She could see everything but Navadar's face, and her stomach twisted uneasily. What if he was still furious? Very subtly, she made the branches around her thicken.

"Kiethara?" Navadar called out tentatively. She held her tongue.

"Kiethara, please come out. I...I'm so sorry. I will not harm you, I swear," he pleaded.

Silence.

"You have no idea how sorry I am! I was...in shock, with what you told me. Imagine what you would have done if you found out I was Gandador's son."

Kiethara thought over that statement and, to her surprise, found it was spot on. He was right; she would have been furious with him if that were true. His reaction had been frightening, but now she understood.

Kiethara jumped from the tree and landed on the ground noiselessly.

"Kiethara!" he gasped.

She didn't answer him. She crossed her arms and shivered as the wind whipped at her forcefully.

Navadar reached her in a few long strides. Without pausing, without her having time to react, he swept her into his arms. The warmth radiating from his body made her realize just how cold she was. She shuddered violently into his chest.

"You're so cold," he whispered.

"Mm," she murmured, fitting herself into his warm embrace.

Navadar chuckled—a sound of relief—and held her tighter, wrapping his cloak around her to fit them both.

"You forgive me?" he asked her.

"Might as well," she said. "I can't have you attacking me, too."

"I promise I won't," he said earnestly.

"I believe you," she assured him. "Even the worst of men tell the truth. And you might just be one of the best."

"You never fail to amaze me, Kiethara," Navadar told her.

**CHAPTER 15**

**OVERWHELMED**

Kiethara might have been too exhausted to dream the night before, but that was certainly not the case this time.

So, she was in this tree.

Not just a tree, but a massive tree. One bigger than any other tree in the forest. This she knew for a fact, for even though she was only situated on a thick branch in the middle, her line of sight stretched far over the tops of the trees below her, from horizon to horizon with only blue lakes and streams to interrupt the expanse. It was beautiful, although the sky was a menacing pearl gray. But Kiethara just looked up at it with a curious expression. It did not bother her. Nothing did, not while she was in this tree.

For the first time, she looked down.

The height was dizzying. It was such a long way down. She pursed her lips. What would happen if she fell? The question did not bring any spike of fear or hint of worry. Some small voice in her head told her she should be afraid. It was as though she had a small siren in the back of her mind, but her thoughts did not stray towards it, and she chose to ignore it.

The wind picked up.

It blew very hard. The tree swayed dangerously; she watched how the ground below came closer and then watched as it shrunk away as the tree bent in the opposite direction. It became so intense that the tree was almost bent in half; however, she continued to stand on the branch, practically horizontal at some moments, not bothered enough to muse over the miracle that kept her perched on the bark.

Again, a voice in her head sent out a warning. _This isn't right_ , it whispered. _You should be falling. Falling down to the ground. You're supposed to be screaming._ The voice got louder and louder, but again, she ignored it. She just allowed her body to drift with the sway of the tree, back and forth, to and fro, enjoying the rhythm. It made her happy.

_No_ , the voice said. _No! Do not be happy. Do not let it take you. This isn't good; it's not happy. It's terrifying._

Kiethara frowned. This voice, this warning, was ruining her happiness. She wanted it to cease its meddling—it was so pretty up here. Besides the sky, which grew darker and darker, the view was very inviting. She wanted to be higher so she could venerate its grandeur appropriately.

Then she was not alone.

The Spirit of Aaron was suddenly above her. He was at the very top of the tree. That wasn't fair; she wanted to be on the top...Why was he up there? He wasn't even enjoying his coveted position, for his arms were crossed while disapproval radiated off of him with a fierce intensity.

Kiethara looked down again and was mildly surprised at the two people who were positioned underneath her.

The first person she saw was Navadar. He was standing on a long branch that was situated between her and the ground, holding on strongly to another branch within his reach. His expression was a mixture of fear and worry, as always. He really needed to get some new emotions. He should aim for some happiness, like her.

_No_ , the voice interrupted rather grudgingly. _You should be worried, as he is. Happiness here is going to lead you astray_. She ignored it and allowed her gaze to move its way down to the ground and to the second person.

Was that Gandador down there? Yes, it was. The fact didn't bother her, though; she only gazed at him with increasing curiosity. Why was he on the ground? Everyone else was in the tree.

_It's a good thing he isn't in the tree_ , the voice told her. _That should be making you happy. He should make you scared. He wants you dead_.

Kiethara cringed at the concept of death. That word had no place in this tree. Everything here was wonderful. Besides, the voice knew not of what it spoke of. Gandador only desired her crystals.

She then noticed that Navadar was trying to climb the tree, yet he kept slipping. Every failed attempt seemed to make him angrier and angrier. That wasn't right. She didn't want him angry—anger had no place in this tree. So, to solve the problem, Kiethara started climbing down.

A noise from above distracted her. She looked up to see Aaron shaking his head. He beckoned her to come up with him. Now. She was not supposed to go down.

_Go with Aaron_ , the voice encouraged. _He is good_.

Well, so was Navadar. Anyway, he was closer. Aaron was just _so_ high up and she did not feel like crossing that distance at the moment. Plus, the tree was still swaying, so wouldn't it be safer to go down? Yes. Her logic made sense.

Every branch she descended seemed to make Navadar happier, elating her even more. Eager, she climbed down faster until she reached him.

The tree shuddered.

It was not because of the wind. The tree continued to move in tune to the force of the wind, but every few moments it shook as if receiving heavy blows. Kiethara looked around curiously, a smile still on her face. It seemed nothing could dissipate it.

_Look down! Look down!_ The voice in her head ordered. And for once, she didn't ignore it. She looked down.

The smile disappeared.

Gandador had his sword out. He drew it back behind him, paused for one terrible moment, and then swung it at a horrifying velocity until it chopped at the thick trunk of the tree. Every time the sword hit the tree, Kiethara could not stop herself from wincing. It was as though something too was stabbing her in her heart. How strange. She must have been too happy to notice it before.

Another blow to the tree. She felt a twinge of annoyance. Did Gandador have to ruin everything? All she wanted to do was have a nice time with Navadar. Remembering Navadar, she turned her gaze towards him.

He also adorned an annoyed expression. This was wrong. A minute ago, they had all been happy. It seemed like Gandador could pop that joyful bubble in less time than it took for a fish to swim downstream.

From above, Aaron called her. _Come here_ , he was telling her. She rolled her eyes. The top of the tree was the most dangerous place to be! The tree was about to be chopped down; therefore, she should be on the ground.

_Go up_ , the voice told her.

It seemed like the voice was crazy, too. They were all so foolish. The voice should really be quiet; everything it said was wrong. She needed to go down! Down, down, down.

So Kiethara began to climb down.

Navadar was all too willing to follow her down. He took her hand, as though he was going to make sure she didn't slip. How unnecessary. She had learned how to climb trees before she had learned how to walk. This might be her biggest tree, her greatest challenge, but she could make it. All she had to do was focus and endure. It would be so much easier if she didn't have that annoying voice in the back of her head, though.

_Please don't go that way_ , it whined. _You are going to get us killed. You're going to get Navadar killed_.

These words made her stop short. What if the voice was right? She didn't want Navadar to die. Plus, he would probably be just as willing to follow her up as he was willing to follow her down. But the way up seemed so tedious, so very difficult.

_If you go to the top you could see the whole forest_ , the voice promised.

The forest.

Didn't she want to go to the forest? Being on the top of the forest did her no good; in order to protect it, she needed to be in it. The view might be stunning from Aaron's vantage point, but it was no less beautiful from the grassy floor, either. The lakes, her clearing, her mother's beautiful meadow...

Earthaphoria was suddenly in the tree.

Kiethara froze, rooted to the spot. Her mother. Her mother was here. The thought made her happy. Almost overwhelmingly so. And she just loved being happy.

_Go up!_ The voice encouraged. _Go up to her! Give her a hug_!

For once, the voice was saying the right thing. That was exactly what she wanted.

But Navadar did not want that. He continued to go down the tree, without her! Kiethara frowned.

_He shouldn't be near Gandador alone_ , the voice said slowly. It was worried about Navadar, too.

Huh. She hadn't thought that much into it. It bugged her a little that he would be near Gandador, but it did not bother her. Nothing seemed to bother her. The tree was magic. The thought made her giggle.

_Kiethara,_ the voice scolded. _You're not thinking straight. It should bother you. Tell Navadar to get back up here!_

The voice was right again. Maybe it was a bad thing for Navadar and Gandador to be near each other. Oh, what was the worst that can happen? She sighed. It didn't really matter.

_Stop_ , the voice said sternly. _Stop it! He is in danger! You are selfish!_

The words hurt. She didn't like it. She wanted to scream at the voice.

Her anger surprised her. It was wrong; she wasn't supposed to be angry. The tree was good, she was good. Anger was...bad. She recalled when Sinsenta had made her furious...

Sinsenta was suddenly in the tree.

He appeared right in between Navadar and Gandador.

He had both his daggers out—one in each hand—and was staring at Navadar with a hungry expression. Navadar seemed oblivious to the sudden appearance; he just continued to work his way down the tree.

_Sinsenta is going to kill him!_ The voice yelled.

Without thinking, Kiethara threw herself off the branch she had been standing on.

_No!_ The voice screamed.

Kiethara ignored it, using her hands and feet to control her fall. Again, the laws of nature seemed to have no effect near this tree. She fell through the air with ease, weaving through the branches with a sense of grace. She whooshed past Navadar and aimed her body straight at Sinsenta's branch.

Right before she landed on his branch she pulled herself into a summersault. The elegant twist helped her plant her bare feet lightly on the branch, only a few feet away from Sinsenta.

_THAT...WAS...INSANE!_ The voice hissed at her.

Sinsenta spun around wildly, expression livid and eyes bulging. Like some rabid animal, he raised his daggers high to protect himself from the new threat. She saw that the two blades were stained with blood. That thought bothered her.

_Now it bothers you_ , the voice commented, bitterly sarcastic. _If things had bothered you before, we would have avoided this situation._

She winced. Now, she realized the voice had been right all along. Maybe she had been a little too happy. Perhaps the top of the tree was the best place to be. There was nothing she could do about it now.

Sinsenta raised one of his daggers higher with a grin. The scar trailing her right arm was suddenly on fire.

_Use your magic!_ The voice screamed.

Too late.

The tree shuddered more violently than it had ever shuddered before. A strange creaking sound came from below them, followed by a groan. Both Kiethara and Sinsenta looked down towards the ground; Kiethara with a curious expression, Sinsenta with an expectant one.

What she saw made her stomach drop and ice shoot through her veins.

Gandador had finally cut down the tree.

The tree began to lean to the left, but this time it had nothing to do with the wind. In fact, the wind was blowing to the opposite direction. It was as though the weather was trying to push the tree back up. But its strength was feeble and nothing changed.

_Oh, no_ , the voice in her head whispered.

There was a loud, final groan below her before the tree snapped. It fell fast, and it fell hard. The sky had now darkened to a point where it was as though it were night. She slipped off her branch and began to fall with the tree, her limbs flaring out around her. Yet there was nothing for them to do, no control that they could take. As she fell, her surroundings became darker and darker...fading...

Kiethara's navy blue eyes snapped open.

A sudden light erupted around her. It took less than a second to realize that the blinding light was coming from her crystals. A fierce fear was squeezing her chest, squeezing it until the point at which her breaths came in gasps. She couldn't explain it, but it was the same type of fear Gandador had caused. Around her, the winds picked up with a howl. Once again, it was all too much...

Her shield appeared around her, but it did much more than that.

It exploded.

It seemed to come straight out of her heart—her chest was thrust forward as she lurched up in her hammock. The strong surge of emotion, of power, coursed unconditionally through her veins; her heart was pounding. Her head was thrust back and her hands balled into fists while her shield continued to pulse from her body. Animal cries echoed through the forest and a flock of birds took off into the sky.

Kiethara witnessed all of this, saw her magic expelling from her body, but she couldn't pull it back. She had lost complete control. It—her magic—was pushed from her body so forcefully that it was almost painful. A strangled scream erupted from behind her pale lips.

Suddenly, her crystals weren't the only things emitting light.

The Spirit of Aaron had finally arrived.

"Kiethara!" he yelled, but she barely heard him.

All of a sudden, hot, strong arms snaked around her chest. These arms of light pulled her arched back straight as she felt a more powerful magic override her own, forcing it back inside her. The overwhelming, choking sense of fear was calmed slightly and common sense began to leak back into her thoughts. Her fists stayed clenched, though, as more magic fought its way from her and another cry escaped her.

"Kiethara! Fight it! Calm down, take control!" Aaron ordered.

His words helped her crazed self see some reason. With much effort she restrained the wild power within her. Her surroundings began to make sense and her limbs were back under her command. She let her arms relax to her side as tears rolled down her cheeks and her gasps slowed.

Aaron was sitting behind her on the swaying hammock. He still held her tight, but it wasn't uncomfortable. In fact...it was nice. Nice to have her father figure's arms around her. She could not recall any other hold equal to it.

"Kiethara?" Aaron asked gently.

It took her a minute to reply.

"What was that?" she asked in a breathless whisper.

" _That_ was a very close call," he said.

"A close call to what?" she asked, a small sob escaping her lips.

"Shh, Kiethara, it's over," he soothed.

"What's over?" she stressed. He sighed.

"Do you remember the first time you fought Gandador? And what I told you about magical bursts?"

Kiethara was now in the process of taking deep, even breaths to calm herself down. She closed her eyes and attempted to recall the conversation they had had. It seemed so long ago.

"Yes."

"Well, that very nearly turned into one."

"But I was asleep!" she said.

"You were also dreaming," he pointed out.

Yes, that was true. She could remember every detail vividly—it had been so real. She could still feel a faint echo of every emotion, still feel the sickening sway of the tree.

"You were in it. So was Navadar, my mother, Sinsenta, and Gandador...There was this tree..." Kiethara trailed off. The dream suddenly seemed very unpleasant.

Aaron nodded, releasing his hold on her. He swiftly stood up and then turned to face her.

"Are you under control?" he asked.

"I believe so." Her breathing had returned to normal, the choking fear had vanished, and her crystals had returned to their normal dull glow.

"Very well. I suggest you get some work done," Aaron told her.

"Wait, Aaron!" she cried. "You haven't explained why my shield does that now." It was very unlikely for him to leave something that way.

"It's simple enough. I thought this would be a good opportunity, because you need to know how to train yourself, in order to prepare for when I—" Aaron suddenly cut off.

"It's just one level up from your shield," he continued before she could ask. "You had an increased level in fear, so your shield did a bit more. Gandador seems to be helping your progress with your shield a lot."

Interesting. It seemed like Aaron was hiding something from her. Again. A small stab of betrayal pricked at her heart. What in the world could he possibly be hiding from her now?

She couldn't think about this now. She had something else on her mind.

"Is it really possible for him to take my crystals? To take control of the forest?" she asked. Aaron hesitated before answering.

"When Gandador said that, I had thought he was kidding. But it wasn't a lie. He truly believes what he said. I have always admitted that his best trait was his wisdom. Now, well, I think the lust for power has finally gotten to his head. He is basing a lot of his moves on theory these days. That makes him dangerous...and vulnerable."

"Dangerous and vulnerable?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Hmm, how can I explain it?" he mused. "Imagine a wild, strong animal. This animal is fierce as it confronts a smaller animal. The smaller animal is in the way of this larger animal, preventing him from acquiring its prey. Most people would think that the larger animal could make it past the smaller animal easily; however, the smaller animal knows how to proceed. The smaller animal is more determined, also, besides the obvious strength of the larger foe. The other animal gets confused, then hesitant, and is on the verge of making a mistake. Who wins?"

"I pray the smaller animal," Kiethara said. Aaron chuckled.

"You still didn't answer my question, though. Can he take them?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "Just...get to work."

Aaron disappeared and Kiethara frowned. Something was certainly odd about him. First a cursed dream, then a threat of a magical burst, and now a discovery that there were more riddles to unravel...There was only one word for how she felt.

Overwhelmed.

**CHAPTER 16**

**DURGA**

Kiethara was strolling through her mother's beautiful meadow. It looked lovely in the morning sunlight—there was a slight calm, chilly breeze, but it was nothing compared to the vicious winds of the other day. A few petals blew around her, her hair twitching as though it longed to join them. The thought made her lips twitch at the corners.

Despite her not so pleasant morning, she felt rather calm. The relief at being able to finally relax eased the tensions inside her body.

Of course, she still had a few small things to do. There was a small patch of the forest she hadn't healed yet and she really needed to replace the two potions she had used.

So she picked the more vital of the two. Her vine belt hung loose around her hips, bottles clinking with every step. She could have journeyed to the closest lake, but she had a desire to explore out a little more. The sketchy image of a rushing river filled the forefront of her mind, but she couldn't grasp the details of it too well, mostly due to the fact that she had been focused on something much greater than the scenery when Sinsenta had been chasing her down to kill her. She didn't have a clear idea of where she had been, only a clear memory of how she had escaped.

As she wandered, her thoughts drifted. She remembered the first time Aaron had instructed her how to make them...

Ten year old Kiethara sat crossed legged on the shore of a lake, her chin in her hand and four empty bottles lying in the grass in front of her. She sighed.

"I suppose you don't have the answer," Aaron said.

"Riddles aren't my strong point," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"It's not exactly a riddle, Kiethara. I gave you some bottles. Now, you have water and your magic. What can you make?"

"Colorful water," she answered with a shrug.

"You can make a potion, Kiethara," he said.

"Well, how was I supposed to know that?" she demanded.

"I've mentioned potions before," he pointed out.

"All right, all right," she said. "How do I make one?"

"It's simpler than you would think. There are many different types you can make, but I think we should start with the most vital."

"And what would that be?" she asked.

"Well, I suppose it's a matter of opinion," Aaron mused. "What do you think is more important, a good offense or a good defense?"

"If I have an outstanding offense I don't need a defense and if I have an outstanding defense, I no longer require an offense," she told him.

"Now who's talking in riddles, eh?" Aaron asked, shaking his head. She could sense his smile, though. "Choose one."

"I would rather have a good defense," she decided after a minute.

"All right. If it's a defense you want, it's a defense you shall get," Aaron told her. He walked towards her and squatted down beside her.

"Now, as far as a defense goes, there is truly only one superior defense."

"What?" she asked eagerly.

"The ability to heal a wound in an instant. Very, very reliable. I must warn you, however, it isn't very simple. The concepts behind brewing a potion is not one people easily comprehend. For example, right now if you tried to imagine magic knitting your flesh back together, would you understand how it works, or more importantly, why? No, you would not, but knowing the particular science behind it is not what makes you powerful in the first place and it's not what makes magic powerful. The motive behind the motion is what powers you both."

Kiethara nodded.

"Do you think you can handle this?"

"No, no, I'm up for the challenge!" she said impatiently.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

Aaron chuckled. Kiethara no longer had her head in her hand. She sat upright and alert, every muscle posed to receive the instructions she knew would come from him. She knew that she could make this potion. Training with the earth element had gone so smoothly...

"Very well then. First, fill the bottle halfway with water," he told her.

She did just that, taking the cool water directly from the lake next to her. She kneeled on the bank and ran the glass vial through the glass-like surface, making sure to get nothing else inside it. The crystal clear water swirled inside its hold rather gracefully, like a waterfall was trapped inside.

"Now what?"

"This is the complicated part," Aaron warned. "You're going to have to grow something, but it's not something you've ever seen or heard of before."

"How am I supposed to do that?" she asked, puzzled.

"By focusing on what I'm about to describe to you," Aaron told her. "I need you to imagine a flower. Picture in your head the form of a daisy, with long, luscious petals. This flower grows directly from the ground, with a stem of emerald green. From this stem branch three dark leaves. The petals are exceptionally vivid, a silver that shines like silk, with a texture of the same consistency. Where the petals meet, there is a ring of white that is as soft as snow. This specimen is as light as air and has the fragrance of a dozen roses. It appeals to every sense.

"Can you see it, Kiethara?"

She could. Aaron's words rang in her head, forming a dazzling image. The picture budded in her mind; budding into a beautiful work of nature...She smiled.

"Grow it, now," Aaron ordered.

With her navy blue eyes focused on a patch of green, she let the image in her mind overtake her senses before letting them overtake her magic. Her crystals glowed brightly.

A flower blossomed.

"Very good, Kiethara," Aaron said in a rather awed voice. The surprise that she had succeeded was almost insulting.

The flower before her exceeded anything she had ever seen in beauty. Tentatively, she reached out a finger to stroke one of the silver petals.

It was like stroking water.

Amazed, Kiethara ran her finger down the length of the brilliantly green stem. It was a very strong stem, not pliable in the slightest to her touch.

It was like caressing the smooth stone of the lake.

Slowly, she moved the tip of her finger to the pure white center of the flower. It shimmered in the light brightly, as though it were made of diamonds.

It was like clinching snow on a cold winter's day.

The flower was enthralling.

"Now, you need to pick it," Aaron said, his sudden command making her jump.

She moved her hand to the bottom of the stem and grasped it. Although she hated to do it, she gave the flower a small tug. Surprisingly, it came up easy, with roots that looked very thin and normal compared to what she had been expecting.

"Well done. Now, pluck those five petals gently, please."

She did as he commanded. As soon as her two fingers grasped the petal tightly, it came off. It scared her how delicate this flower was turning out to be; she was afraid another movement would shatter the thing more thoroughly than smashing hardened clay against a rock. She, ever so gently, laid the petals in one pile and the remains of the beauty in another.

"Rip each petal into the tiniest shreds you can and then sprinkle them into the water you have in the bottle."

Again, it was beyond simple to rip the petals up. She put them in the water, her eyes widening as she witnessed them come in contact. It was as though the petals were ripples themselves.

"Now, remove that small, white center from the stem and do the same."

As soon as the cool, snowy material touched the water it broke apart, staining the water white. The small pieces drifted along with the silver, truly creating an image of what she imagined as gray clouds and drifts of snow.

"The last step is to stir it with the stem," Aaron concluded.

The stem blended everything together. The water got thicker while the grey became darker, the white disappearing altogether. Yet the liquid shimmered continuously. It was enchanting.

"Stirring the potion with the air, too, certainly helps," he suggested. "Just focus on making the remaining air in the bottle move just as you would normally." She tried it, and the color lightened to a pearl grey.

"And...there you have it."

"That's it?" she asked, astounded.

"Yes."

"But," she protested. "I thought you said it was complicated!"

"I said it wasn't simple. I'm happy it didn't seem to be much of a challenge for you—I've never seen a guardian make their first potion so fast. How you grew that flower so fast was truly amazing. Some guardians took days to get that step right," Aaron said, and then he chuckled. "I think you've found your calling, Kiethara."

"Huh. This was more straightforward than training."

"Well, each guardian is different, I suppose."

Ten year old Kiethara nodded, gazing at her silver concoction...

Fifteen year old Kiethara drifted back into reality. She was no longer in her mother's meadow; instead, she was surrounded by a different set of trees than she was inured to seeing. These trees were younger than those in the center of the forest, but what drew her to this area were two very distinct factors: humid air and lush vegetation. Two clear signs that water was nearby.

The more she walked, the more her assumptions were proved correct. A soft thunder of rushing water reached her ears, becoming louder with each step she took. She smiled and picked up her pace until, finally, a river came into view.

It was rather wide, with light blue water rushing between the two banks. The river did not look deep at all, for she could clearly see the scattered rocks and multicolored pebbles that littered the river's bottom. She caught these details quickly, though, and forgot them in the next instant, for she was no longer alone.

Someone—a woman—was kneeling over the surface of the water. Judging by what Kiethara could see of her, she was a heavy set woman. A light blue, ragged dress fit her plump frame, coming to a rather muddy end near her ankles, where it met traveling boots covered in the same substance. Her white hair was pulled into a sloppy bun, although many strands had already escaped and hung loose.

The clinch of bottles could be heard from where she was squatted and bare stems were littered on the ground around her. It took her a second to realize what the woman was doing: she was making a potion.

Kiethara was tense; she hardly dared to breath. The atmosphere around the woman was not at all menacing, but then again, it wasn't "normal" like Navadar's was. She could sense magic, but only a little, and nothing that amounted to a threat.

Still, she remained cautious. With a quick step back, her shield came up. She jumped a little at her own defense mechanism—it had almost killed her this morning—and her foot snapped a twig.

The woman whipped her head around. With a jolt, Kiethara realized the woman was much older than she had originally thought. Wrinkles creased the wizened face into numerous folds, but of what she could see of the woman's eyes, she saw that they were as piercing as they were dark. These eyes narrowed as they gazed upon her face.

The old woman rose slowly. She had a glass bottle in one hand and Kiethara spotted a large jug that had been placed on the ground behind her. The lady made no sudden movement and she had no indications that she would attack. The inability for Kiethara to sense any type of danger made her shield disappear and her muscles relax.

Still moving slowly, the woman placed the bottle in her hand next to the jug. She straightened, wiping her hands on the front of her dress, gazing at her with an unfathomable expression. Kiethara felt a twinge of annoyance at her unnerving stare.

"Who are you?" Kiethara demanded, raising her hands up in front of her, crystals glowing slightly.

"Durga," the old lady said, raising her eyebrows at Kiethara's new position.

"Why are you here?"

"I'm making a potion," Durga said slowly. Her voice sounded worn, as though she used it often.

"Who are you?" she asked before Kiethara could respond. "But wait, I know. You act as though you own this mystical forest. I can sense deep magic around you, yet despite this, you are still wary of a little old woman. A scar trails your right arm; no ordinary girl would have the pleasure of owning one of those, now would they? Which one of them would dare venture that close to the tip of a sword? Your finery there glows like the stars on a winter's night; obviously, a great power lies in them. Potions cling to your waist. You are thin...but you are strong, stronger than most, I should say. You are...pretty, yet those pale features are not your highlight; however, those brilliant eyes make up for it. Oh, those eyes! A shining navy blue that will take any man's heart away."

Kiethara blinked in surprise and then blushed. For some strange reason, Navadar's face popped into her mind.

"Your hair could use a trim, my goodness! A bland color it is and ruler straight. Hmm..." Durga pursed her lips and scanned her over.

"So, what does this tell me? These minor details that I have observed by just lying my eyes on you has brought me to the only logical conclusion I can think of, which would be the preposterous contemplation that you are the guardian of the forest!" she explained.

Kiethara did not know how to respond. Yes, the woman was right...but was she a threat? She would have certainly attacked by now and, if she was here on an ulterior motive, she would know just who the guardian was. My, the old hag talked a lot. No wonder her voice sounded like that.

"Well, don't just stand there!" Durga snapped. "Tell me if I'm right or not."

"Er...yes. Yes, you are right," Kiethara finally answered.

"Of course I am, child! And you can lower those arms of yours; I'm not going to attack you."

_Child_. Everyone was calling her a child lately. Reluctantly, she lowered her arms.

Durga turned her back to her and kneeled besides the river again. Once her hands were busy again, she began talking.

"So the legends are all true, then? Always knew they had to be. Since when did people have that good of an imagination? Not to mention they wouldn't make a story as sad as this one. But why do I keep calling it a story, when, in fact, I'm speaking of your life?"

Kiethara approached Durga and the river slowly. Her voice sounded so loud in the quiet forest.

"I suppose it is."

"You don't say much, do you?" Durga asked, but she continued without waiting for an answer. "I guess you wouldn't have much company to talk to, anyway. Dead mother, a powerful enemy I hear, and now me, who never shuts her yap. Maybe you get a nomad here or there, but I can't imagine it amounting to much. You've probably seen less people than the newborn in my tribe has! Mind you, he's only seen his family..."

Kiethara opened her mouth, only to close it again. What was she supposed to say? Instead of standing there like a fool, she decided to sit down by the river too, a couple feet from the old woman.

Durga twisted her torso to get a better look at her. "What's your name, honey?"

"Kiethara."

"Kiethara." Durga repeating, running the name over her tongue. "Kiethara. Do you know what that means?"

"No, I don't."

"Well, in an ancient language, your name can be dissected into two parts, considering its length. 'Kie' means faith. 'Thara' means reason. I should know, for I've studied this stuff long enough. The number of old scrolls my tribe has held on to over the years..."

"Faith and reason?" Kiethara asked.

"Yes...well, maybe you should say 'faithful reason.' Much prettier that way, if you ask me. My name means 'free,' but I say 'freedom.' I like that much better. Not that freedom means much to me at all, can't remember a day in my life when I didn't have a duty to my tribe that I needed to accomplish. That's not exactly freedom, now is it?"

"I guess not. It's more freedom than I have," Kiethara shrugged.

"Hah! Now that's the best thing I've heard you say yet, not that you've said much. It's completely true, too, more true than I could imagine. Yes, you do have a rather binding duty, not to mention one that binds you to the same place as well. At least I can wander, I can explore, interact, and see the world...although, if I may admit to it, this hunk of land you have here is a work of beauty. One day you might just seek the world out yonder, but I can assure you this: after you've had your fill, you'll be dying to return here. There's nothing like it."

Kiethara only nodded at Durga's words, for she was distracted by what the lady was doing. Durga was holding the small glass bottle over the surface of the water in an outstretched hand. She concentrated on the water with a surprising intensity, as though she was struggling to do something.

Water from the river shot up in a thin stream until it was level with Durga's eyes. The water focused on one spot, where it slowly rolled into a liquid orb that grew larger as the water continued to stream into it. Then the flow cut of abruptly, but the orb continued to hang in midair.

The orb drifted until it was directly above the bottle. Kiethara took a sharp intake of breath, and Durga smiled.

"What? Did you think you were the only one here with some magical powers? Not quite, dearie!"

Durga put emphasis on her words by performing another magical task. With her free hand, she waved her fingers over the grass. A yellow tulip slowly bloomed in a twist, much slower than Kiethara grew her flowers and less vibrant, for one or two of the petals drooped. Durga picked the small thing delicately.

She glanced up at the orb and the bottle and suddenly water began dripping from the sphere into the glass, each drop measured and the rhythm precise. Carefully, Durga inserted the petals one by one until there were none left and the orb was half its original size.

Kiethara watched her proceed in awe. She had never seen anyone one else use magic like this before and, as Durga used the rest of the water and the stem of her flower, Kiethara couldn't help but feeling a bit incredulous.

Obviously pleased with herself, Durga held the swirling potion up to her eye. Satisfied, she dumped the entire thing into the jug besides her.

"Why, you've looked like you've seen a miracle!" Durga exclaimed, turning back to her. Kiethara realized that her mouth was open slightly. With a blush, she closed it. "It was only a potion! I see you've made some yourself. Probably better than this one here. All this can do is rid a sickly person of a fever! Useful, though, since a fever can kill off an entire village if not treated right. Still, I didn't perform any type of magic that you haven't seen before. Or are you just shocked a little old lady can make a potion?"

Kiethara nodded, turning back to the river. Durga had reminded her why she had come looking for a river this morning. No matter what sudden appearance she encountered, she still had two vital potions to make. So she reached down to her waist and removed one of the empty bottles.

Durga and Kiethara worked in silence for a few minutes. Durga repeated the same potion over and over again, always holding it up to her eye before dumping it into the jug besides her. Once, when the yellow color was just a bit darker than the others had been, Durga threw it into the river in disgust, muttering for a good few minutes to herself. Kiethara decided not to interrupt and she herself managed to finish her two potions without a mistake.

When they were both finished, they stood up. Durga wiped her fingers in her dress and appraised her.

"Well, it certainly has been a pleasure," she said. "I don't know what people are doing today. All I hear, when we get close enough to a kingdom to hear such, are nasty rumors about this forest and harsh gossip about the previous guardians. You're as sweet as the apples growing above your head, so don't let any of that nonsense get to you. What gives birth to that evil is fear and only fear. People don't know how to react to what they don't know, so they put on a brave tongue while they hide behind the bigger man's sword! They don't know the truth, but don't let those lies brush a strand of your hair out of place."

"Thank you," Kiethara said smiling, looking kindly at the old lady. She didn't bother mentioning that she heard none of these nasty rumors herself; besides, she didn't think Durga needed to know about the extent of her isolation from the outside world.

"Child, spare me, I don't think I've heard you say more than five words at a time. I believe a person's voice speaks a lot about the person, so let me hear yours!"

Kiethara bit her lip. What on earth should she say? She was worried; Aaron had told her about some of the customs and rules other people held and she didn't want to offend her.

"I will tell you something," Kiethara said. "It isn't the most pleasant thing I can leave you with, but it's the most helpful thing I can give...I don't know how it is outside the forest, or what you know. What I can say is that Gandador has reared his ugly head again and that he's taken to attacking the forest again. So please, be careful..."

Durga's eyes narrowed. "I will keep that in mind."

It was, possibly, the shortest sentence she had uttered all day. With an unreadable expression, Durga picked up her jug and turned away from Kiethara. She began to walk away. Right before she disappeared from sight, however, she turned to give Kiethara one last look.

That glance had been full of words.

**CHAPTER 17**

**DRAINED**

The next several days went by rather slowly. Finally, Kiethara healed the last of the burnt trees; it felt wonderful to have the forest whole again. It was such a reward to gaze upon the brilliant green that once again stretched from horizon to horizon. A proud smile stretched across her face as she hovered over everything.

Aaron had been proud of her as well. Not only had he clapped when she tossed the empty seed bag at his feet, but he also rewarded her with a few more stories about former guardians. She paid strict attention, her hopes raised when she noticed that each of them had a happy ending. Maybe her legend would have one as well. But then she remembered the ending of her mother's legend and her hope quickly vanished.

She had, of course, discussed Durga's presence with Aaron. He hadn't been opposed to Durga in the slightest, only giving her a rather weak warning to be careful before dismissing the subject. That had annoyed her greatly. Navadar couldn't even use magic, let alone make potions with it, but still Aaron had given her so much grief over his presence here. Sometimes, the spirit made no sense at all.

So here Kiethara was, perched on the highest branch of one of the two trees that supported her hammock. It was twilight. In her opinion, it was one of the most beautiful times of day, only surpassed by dawn. The beginning of the day and the end: two separate and completely opposite marvels that both gave and took away. The air was cool; the long remaining heat from the summer seemed to be finally cooling off.

At last, the sun finally dipped low enough to disappear and cast the forest into darkness. With a sigh, she slid off her branch and into the hammock below. The slight nip in the air made sleeping a bit uncomfortable and this time she had no blanket to fend off the chilly air. She didn't know how to make another one; in fact, she didn't even know where the original had come from.

Despite the temperature, however, Kiethara was finally able to drift into sleep...

### ***

_Wake up_!

Why, it was that obnoxious voice again. Here she was, flying on the top of the world, having the time of her life, all worries gone. And yet it seemed whenever she found herself content, the voice interrupted, determined to make her otherwise. Could it not find anyone else to bother?

_I would love to_ , the voice replied sarcastically. _Someone else might have the sense to listen to me._

Sense? All the voice spewed was nonsense!

_You know that's a lie_ , the voice replied _. I was right before, now, wasn't I? And who didn't listen?_

The old memory made her freeze. The voice was right, it had been correct that last time. She had made a mistake, and had...well, nearly gotten them both killed. Still, she didn't want to wake up. She was having too much fun.

_Oh, no_ , the voice yelled. _We are not starting this again! Do not go on thinking like that! The last time you did, it didn't get you anything_.

Perhaps not. Her happy, blissful state did make it hard for her to think anything out. But sometimes it was so nice not to have to solve any problems. So sweet to—

Her thoughts were interrupted by a strange sensation. It felt as though numerous bugs were crawling over her skin. She screamed, but when she went to swat at the creatures, there wasn't anything there. Each movement she made seemed to make her more tired and heavier, until she began to sink down to the world below her.

_Oh, no_ , the voice whispered. _It's happening! Wake up, before..._

The voice drifted away into an eerie silence. All of a sudden, Kiethara couldn't feel its presence any more. That wasn't right. _No!_ She shouted over and over again in her had for the voice, but there was no reply. Only silence.

She started kicking and thrashing in the air, but it was as if some invisible force was holding her down. In the far corner of her mind, consciousness was lying there. She retreated into that corner, reaching...

Kiethara's eyes snapped open. What she saw made her think that she was still dreaming.

She was surrounded by four men. They all looked the same, with tan skin and dark hair. There were two positioned on either side of her hammock, and two of them—one on her right and one on her left—were holding her down. With a jolt, she realized she was thrashing in her hammock as she had been in her dream, but it was no use. They were stronger than her.

One of the men stood a few feet back. He looked very young, hovering between the age of a boy and the age of a man. His face was smooth and his curly black hair fell over his forehead and almost hid his alarmingly dark green eyes. They held none of the warmth that Navadar's eyes had, only remoteness and...could there be a tad bit of pity in them? He looked oddly out of place, as though he didn't want to be here.

The other man to her left was young also, but not as young as the other boy. He looked to be twenty, while the other could barely pass for eighteen. This man's dark hair was cropped brutally short and his eyes were a watery brown. Stubble grew on his chin, and his clothes matched the raggedy of the others.

There were two men to her right. Both could be honestly labeled as men, for they appeared to be at least in their late thirties. One of them was holding her down as well, and he had a bushy, bramble-filled beard with matching hair that fell to his shoulders.

The last man was obviously the leader of the group. His face was cleanly shaved, his hair sleek, and a rich, silk outfit fitted his lean frame. His brown eyes were uncaring and arrogant.

She observed all this in a matter of seconds, but none of this was as alarming as the next thing she saw.

The leader was holding up a golden necklace. The chain was thick, the gold twisting down around to carry a heavy entity embedded in the center.

It was a large, black jewel. The jewel was remarkably beautiful, but not in the ordinary way. No, it was dangerously and devastatingly handsome. Even though it was held high in the morning sunlight, it did not sparkle; instead, it seemed to be emitting a dull glow from inside itself. And Kiethara knew why it glowed.

From the moment she had laid her eyes on it, a dreadful, cold terror had seized her heart inexplicably. The instinct inside her reared like a frightened horse, screaming at her to get away from it. Nothing, not even death, was worse than what lay before her. This was her worst enemy; this was her nightmare. From the moment she laid eyes on it, she knew exactly what it was, and what it was doing.

The accursed gem in front of her was slowly glowing brighter and brighter, while the crystals in her bracelets were becoming dimmer and dimmer. While the light inside the black brightened leisurely, the crystals in her bracelets became duller by the smallest degree with every passing second. She was growing weaker.

For it was stealing her magic.

It sucked her power down greedily, bluntly, with no sense of remorse or pity. It wanted nothing more than for her to be powerless, empty...

Drained.

Screaming, she thrashed again, her back arching in effort, but the men held on to her tightly. Despite her hammock swinging unsteadily beneath them, despite her flailing limbs, they managed to hang on.

The man holding the crystal said something Kiethara did not understand. He sighed impatiently and then started over again.

"Stop!" he ordered in a thick accent and, for some reason beyond her, she did.

The man turned to the youngest member. "Boy! What are you waiting for, eh? Do it now!"

The boy rushed forward at the reprimand. He looked even younger with the fresh fear and anxiety in his eyes.

Kiethara noticed that he held a dirty rag in his hand. Without a second of hesitation, he reached down and pressed it forcefully over her nose and mouth.

The boy put his other hand on the back of her head in order to restrain her as the wet rag blocked all of her airways. Without thinking twice about it she opened her mouth to scream, sucking in the thick aroma of the rag, burning her throat. Her vision blurred, sounds muffled, her body seemed to go numb...

She finally, inevitably, lost consciousness.

### ***

Kiethara was floating in the black, her thoughts slowly leaking out of her mind, drifting away. The sensation was horribly familiar.

The voice sighed.

That one noise brought everything back to her. They came back so fast; her mind—if possible—seemed to stumble as it tried to handle the immense weight suddenly thrust upon it. As soon as everything was settled, she could feel her limbs—but she couldn't use them. That thought bothered her.

_Good_ , the voice said. _Something bothers you at last! It only took days of horrific events, a nightmare or two, and now you can't use your body. I'd be worried, too_!

_Your sarcasm isn't necessary_ , Kiethara snapped back. With a jolt, she realized that was the first time she had ever directly talked to the voice.

Wasn't a disembodied voice in your head the first sign that you were mentally unsound?

_You're not crazy_ , the voice snapped. _Trust me_.

For some reason, she believed the voice. That bothered her.

_Do you want me to go away?_ The voice asked quietly.

_No!_ Kiethara shouted in her head, alarmed that she may have actually offended the voice. She didn't want that. Whether she was crazy or not, she didn't want to be alone. Here in the blackness, the only thing that kept her from drifting away permanently was the voice.

_Good_ , the voice said, getting back some of its usual energy and hard tone. _Now try waking up. Again._

_Why?_ Kiethara asked. She knew something unpleasant waited beyond the black veil.

I'm not going to be here much longer...trust me. Oh, I don't know how you're going to get out of this mess, but it would be much better if you were conscious for it. The disasters you get yourself into...

_But,_ Kiethara protested. _Why? What are you talking about?_

_You're leaving the forest_ , the voice informed her. _I can't talk to you once you leave the forest_.

_I'm leaving the forest?!_ Kiethara screamed in her head. Never, ever, had she left the forest. She hadn't even wandered far from the center!

_No, Kiethara, this is just a joke_ , the voice snapped sarcastically. _So, what are you up to today?_

_Stop joking around!_ Kiethara snapped back, annoyed.

Then take me seriously and stop asking questions! You have to—

The voice suddenly cut off, as though it had choked. The following silence was eerie and unnerving as Kiethara held her breath, waiting for the voice to speak again. Waiting turned to praying, but each second only brought with it a deeper silence. Seconds turned into minutes, but soon, the concept of time was lost to her completely.

Gradually, her thoughts became clearer. Her body was jostled once, then again. Her breathing was slow and steady, but her body ached.

She regained consciousness without any memory of the previous internal exchange.

The smell was the first thing she registered. It was very foul, and very strong. She had no name for it. Spending her entire life surrounded by flowers did not give her many foul smells to compare it with.

Next, the sensation of touch registered. Her body was lying in an awkward position on an uneven surface, the combination bringing aches and pains with every jostle. Her wrists and ankles were bound tightly and she was gagged. Again, she was jostled by some unknown force.

It wasn't quiet around her. Somewhere near her there was the sound of even breathing, although it was barely heard with the sound of metal clinking together, horse hooves clopping against the ground, and wood creaking against the sudden shifts in gravity and weight.

Kiethara felt her stomach sicken as four dirty faces popped into her mind. She opened her eyes.

She was lying in a covered wagon. The filthy white sheet caused the sunlight from above to filter into the wagon grimly, giving it a musty look. With a groan, she twisted her head to the side.

One of the four men was sitting across from her. It was the youngest one, the one whose emotions flickered clearly through his dark, dark green eyes. The accursed necklace hung around his neck—her eyes were immediately drawn to it; it was as though she could sense it with her whole body. She felt strangely empty at the moment, as though everything she had ever had inside her had been drained.

The young man was staring at her in alarm. One hand reached up to the black jewel that dangled from his neck, as if to reassure himself that it was still there, while his other hang tightened around the club that lay in his lap.

Kiethara lifted her head further. She was lying on top of a mixture of dirty blankets and brown, lumpy sacks. From the way they were digging into her side, she had a strong theory that they were potatoes.

Kiethara rolled forward to pull herself up, causing the young man in front of her to cry out in alarm. The wagon abruptly stopped, three voices shouting simultaneously in their unfamiliar language. Two of the voices had been from the front, the other from behind. Kiethara swayed in despair.

As the sound of scuttling came from beyond the wagon covering, Kiethara managed to finally sit up, with much support from sacks around her. Suddenly, three faces were peering in from the back of the wagon as the young man in front of her raised himself up as much as he could in the confined space. Four pairs of suspicious eyes watched her intensely. Somewhere from the front, a horse snorted.

But she ignored them all, choosing to close her eyes and lean her head back against the covering. It was terrifying how much energy that simple change of position had cost her. She wanted to drift off again, to sleep, but for some reason, she knew that was a bad idea. Not now, when her life was in the worst danger it had ever been in.

The leader made her jump by barking something at the man in front of her. Suddenly the young man reached down towards her. Before she could defend herself in any way his hand was in her mouth, pulling out the gag. She coughed and spluttered, relishing the fact that she could once again breathe freely.

"What's your name?" the leader asked in his thick accent.

Instead of answering, she stuck her chin out arrogantly. Why in the world would she answer to him?

That was a mistake.

The man's eyes narrowed. He reached his long, tanned arm into the wagon, leaning towards her, and smacked her.

"What's your name?" the man asked again, grabbing her chin with his rough fingers and forcing her to turn towards him. Not wanting to meet his gaze, she turned her eyes down. Her stomach dropped as she realized she didn't have her vine belt on her. It was still hanging in the tree next to her hammock, as it always did when she went to sleep. She was devoid of every weapon.

"Kiethara," she answered in a cold tone.

"So you can talk," the man said. "Are you the guardian of the forest?"

"Yes," she replied through her teeth. Anger—white hot anger—boiled inside her, threatening to explode. Being at the mercy of the scum in front of her was unbearable. As far as she could tell, he couldn't even use magic!

But neither could she, at the moment. The second she had gotten angry, she had expected to feel the warm glow of her crystals from behind her. But nothing happened. It felt strange that her body wasn't having its normal reactions; for right now, she wanted nothing more than her hands to burst into flames.

The man smiled. "Your legend is well known. By many people."

"Why are you doing this?" Kiethara asked bluntly.

"As I say, your legend is well known. By powerful and wealthy people, yes? I get good price for you!"

The other two men outside the wagon smiled broadly at his statement. Yet, from the corner of her eye, she saw that the youngest member of the group did not smile at all. His eye stayed remote as ever.

Kiethara did not smile either. She could think of only one person who would pay the highest price.

Gandador.

If he got his hands on her in this state...

Or if he got possession of that jewel...

"Ah, do not be scared, sweets," the man purred. "I take good care of you, no?"

The men behind him laughed. Kiethara gritted her teeth. The young man next to her remained silent.

"Let's start moving again, yes?" the leader asked. The men automatically composed themselves and returned to their posts.

The nightmare marched on.

**CHAPTER 18**

**MERCY**

Around her, twilight began to fall.

The air around her was cool, biting at her exposed skin. Her legs were stiff and cramped from remaining in the same position for such a long time. She had given up the fight to get comfortable long ago; it had been a battle lost before it had begun. Nobody had bothered to put the gag back on her, but she still found she was having a hard time breathing.

The crude rocking of the wooden wagon suddenly stopped.

Kiethara jolted upright at the sudden change. The men from the front barked out orders and the two younger men sprang into action. The boy in front of her reached further back into the wagon and grabbed one of the four brown, bulky sacks and, with a grunt, tossed it to the waiting man outside the wagon. The man caught it and threw it out of her view.

The repeated this process for the other sacks. When he threw outside all that he needed to, along with a couple things she had been sitting on, he jumped out of the wagon himself and disappeared as he walked to whatever lay outside. For the first time in a long time, she was alone. Internally, she laughed bitterly at the thoughts she used to have about being lonely. What she wouldn't give to be lonely right now...

Still, even though she was alone, there wasn't much she could do. It didn't make the slightest difference. Even if she cut the ropes that bound her, how was she supposed to get past them? Even if she could use magic—

Wait.

The crystal was no longer trained on her. The boy had taken it with him, so shouldn't its effects be gone with him? Shouldn't the empty, drained feeling that she was drowning in be fading away? She expected her crystals to flare back to life, like a beacon of hope to cut through the gloom.

Before she could wallow in the depths of another mystery, the other, older man came to the end of the wagon. He had a knife in his hand.

She didn't even have time to flinch before he reached over and, with one swift swipe, cut the ropes that had tied her ankles together. The blood rushed back into her feet with a painful throb.

"Come," the man ordered in his accent. It was clear that her language was more of a challenge for him than it was for his master.

Kiethara stretched out her legs, grimacing when she heard them crack. She shuffled over to the man with the knife. Impatient, the man grabbed the top of her arm and dragged her the remainder of the way, yanking her out of the covered wagon. She stumbled as her unstable legs hit the grassy ground. Recovering herself, she looked up.

She gasped.

Impossible.

All around her, she was surrounded by grass. Endless grass. It stretched from horizon to horizon, only spotted occasionally by a random wild flower. Not a single cloud broke the fading blue sky, nor a tree could be seen in any direction. She whipped her head around frantically, but she could find nothing that intruded upon the sea of grass besides themselves. She could not find a tree. It was impossible. She had never seen anything like this before in her life—she had never _not_ been able to spot a tree!

After a minute of dead silence, where Kiethara could only gaze, transfixed, at the dream before her, someone chuckled.

She whipped her head around again to see the leader watching her with a deep, unnerving satisfaction.

"What's wrong, forest-girl?" he asked, mocking her.

"W-where am I?" she asked in a hoarse whisper.

"A valley," he replied nonchalantly, picking at his finger.

Kiethara looked down so she would not have to see neither him nor the grassy scene. She felt...so vulnerable in these surroundings, especially without her magic.

"What did you do to me?"

"I took your power away," he stated calmly.

"How?" she stressed.

"That is of no concern to you, forest-girl," he told her.

She didn't have the energy to argue with his less than satisfactory answer. She looked around her in awe. This was what the outside world looked like?

"Get moving!" the man holding her barked, pushing her forward.

Her legs had still not fully recovered and, with her hands tied behind her back, there was no possible way to catch herself. All she was able to do was twist her body so she could cushion her landing, but still, all her previous bruises throbbed in unison.

"Be careful with my forest-girl, yeah?" the leader said, his worn boots thudding as he walked towards her. The picture was sideways to her.

"Your forest-girl?" the man asked, nudging her butt with his boot.

Anger flared inside her. She rolled away from the perverted man, pulling herself up in the process. Who did he think he was? She grinded her teeth together, furious that moving away was the only action she could take. Her magic refused to return to her.

"We got a feisty one here, yes!" the man said with a wicked grin.

"She doesn't seem to hold a liking for you, Rahell. Shame, eh?" the leader asked.

"Doesn't matter to me," the man, Rahell, said, leering down at her.

Kiethara frantically scooted away from him, until her back came into contact with something firm and hard. She craned her next back to see the boy who had been guarding her standing directly behind her.

He looked down at her in alarm, as though he had no idea how to react to their sudden contact. Honestly, she didn't know how to react either. Their confusion left her frozen by his legs, with him staring down at her in shock.

"Maybe she like Natal," Rahell suggested, his thick accent hard to decipher.

"Doesn't matter," the leader said. He squatted down beside her and took her chin. "No one can have her."

"Why not?!" Rahell demanded.

"What if one of our buyers wants a virgin, eh?" he shot back.

"You don't even know if she is one!" Rahell responded.

"Well, why don't you ask her? Natal, do us the honor," the leader ordered, looking up at the young man behind her.

"Me?" Natal asked, taking a step back in further distress.

"That's your name," the leader drawled.

"Why don't you, Krit," Natal shot back scornfully. Kiethara was surprised at his sudden ferocity. "That's your name, isn't it?"

The silence that followed his words was intense. There were many unspoken emotions calling out: fear, disbelief, anger.

The leader, Krit, got slowly to his feet. Kiethara craned her neck up again to get a better view of his expression. It was calm—controlled—but somehow that made him more menacing.

"What did you say to me, _boy_?" Krit said in an even voice, emphasizing the word boy with a scornful gist.

"What I said was, you're the leader," Natal explained just as calmly. "Why don't you ask her if she is a virgin, if it's such an honorable question?"

Kiethara snickered.

She didn't see who hit her. There was suddenly a searing pain in her side and she was thrust to the right. For the second time in a matter of minutes, she was on the ground, groaning in pain.

"What are you laughing at, forest-girl?!" the man yelled at her.

Her instinct was screaming at her, too. She knew she shouldn't have done that, for it certainly wasn't helping her situation. But for some reason beyond her, she couldn't stop herself from saying the next thing that popped into her head. Now, the only thing she had to fight with was her tongue.

"Nothing funnier than a man's wounded pride."

There was another blow, this time to her back. She pressed her lips together to stop herself from screaming out in pain. The last thing she wanted was for Krit to get any satisfaction out of this.

"Do I need to remind you that you are at _my_ mercy?" Krit asked, circling around her battered body.

She didn't answer.

"I thought not," Krit said, pleased.

"Sun is almost down," Rahell warned.

All four of them looked up. The sun was indeed almost gone. Most of the stars could already be seen, twinkling innocently in the sky. Kiethara hardly ever saw stars, or the moon, which hung elegantly in the dusky night.

Krit began streaming off orders in their alien tongue and all the men sprang into action yet again.

Krit and Rahell walked away first and, as Kiethara watched them with a wary eye, she noticed for the first time the camp that was in the process of behind set up. It consisted of four brown tents; the third man, whose name she still did not know, was in the process of starting a fire. The gentle breeze seemed to be giving him trouble.

"Come on, up," Natal said quietly.

His muted voice made her jump. She craned her next back—again—to see him towering over her. His thick black eyebrows were mashed over his wickedly dark green eyes, giving him the expression of one who is confused...and conflicted.

Kiethara quickly considered not moving at all, but then she decided resistance was useless. She could not let her pride get in the way, only her sense of self-preservation.

But her hands were still tied. She tried to bring her legs under her, but she wobbled dangerously and fell on her side.

She felt the blood rise to her face. It was foolish to feel embarrassed in a situation like this. It wouldn't help her cause. It didn't matter, she tried to tell herself. But if she had had any magic left in her, she was sure she would have turned invisible.

Suddenly cool, strong hands grabbed a hold of her and yanked her off the ground. They set her on her feet and released her so fast she almost fell again.

Kiethara turned her head slightly to look at Natal. Why would he help her? The other men would have only kicked her and laughed heartily.

Was he giving her the little bit of mercy she hungered for?

Natal gestured towards the campsite. His eyes, however, were focused on the ground.

There was something different about this boy, something that was unpredictable. None of his actions so far, besides knocking her unconscious, showed that he was an active member of this crude gang. He didn't seem to want to be here.

Together the two of them headed towards the campsite. The fire had been made finally; orange flames greedily devoured the wood it was kindled with. Already, it was surrounded by the rest of the group, with each shamelessly grubbing down food that they ate right out of their laps. Kiethara couldn't see what it was, but their unchecked noises and fervent chewing made her stomach growl.

Krit looked up from his food to grin at Kiethara. He spoke a stream of commands at Natal while gazing directly at her.

"Tie her up on the mat," he said slowly, indicating to a mat placed near the fire.

She was having a hard time containing it now.

She had been trying so hard to fight against the fear that was inside her. She had pretended the conversation Krit and Natal had spoken in front of her had meant nothing; she had told herself that she was stronger than they were. But somehow, the prospect of being tied up on this mat, at night, highlighted each and every one of her fears, as well as illuminated every lie she had told herself thus far. Her heart thudded in her breast and her breathing was reduced to shallow gasps.

Natal wordlessly jerked his head toward the mat, indicating her to sit down. She glanced around her, taking in each of the men, spotting the weapons they held on their belts. It was hopeless, she was done lying to herself—she knew she had no chance. Fixing her navy blue eyes on the mat and nothing else, she slowly sat upon it.

Natal spoke something in the same unfamiliar tongue and one of the men threw something to him. It was hard to make out in the gloom, but as it passed over the flames she saw enough to make out a rope. He tied her ankles up again before seating himself at the fire with the others.

Kiethara closed her eyes for a brief moment and composed herself. She needed to be strong. She scooted to the far edge of the mat and tilted her head back, towards the vast sky. Her eyes took in the moon and, despite everything else, she could not help but marvel at its beauty. It was gargantuan.

"Forest-girl," Krit called out, making her jump. "You cold, no?"

"Excuse me?" she asked, turning towards him.

"Scoot towards the fire, sweets. I can see the chill in your bone."

Kiethara threw him a skeptical expression. She was not cold. She was numb, mentally and physically.

"You know nothing, do you? Get near the fire and watch what happens. I am not giving you the choice."

Grinding her teeth, she dragged herself towards them. As soon as she pulled herself to the opposite side of the mat, she felt the warmth of the fire.

A surprisingly fierce shiver traveled down her spine, knocking her teeth together. She did not realize how chilled she really was until she felt the warmth. In the forest, even on the coldest days, the warmest thing she had had was her blanket.

She stretched her arms out to get her hands closer to the bliss of the heat, extending them far enough that the tips of her fingers burned. She swung her legs out in front of her, practically sticking her feet in the fire.

"You see? I was right," Krit told her with a triumphant grin. The other men continued to eat. The only one who registered any interest in the scene was Natal, who watched her with an unfathomable expression as he chewed.

"Why do you care?" she asked doubtfully.

Krit watched her for a moment, considering her question before answering.

"I do not want you dead. You would be no use to me if you were dead. I'm not a...how would you say this in your language? Coward? Bah, the words confuse me, but I have no desire to torture you...too badly," he told her with a wicked grin.

She gulped.

"Ah, you look nervous!" Krit informed her in a mocking tone. "You might control your emotions well, but I can still see them. Your feelings are clear in those deep eyes of yours."

Kiethara did not answer; instead, she averted her eyes. Her hands were warm enough, so she pulled them into her stomach and brought her legs up against her chest, resting her chin upon her knees, retreating inside herself.

She was snapped out of it again by the sudden sound of voices. She opened her eyes to see the men were getting up and stretching, while Krit dished out orders.

"Zacakar will be guarding you, forest-girl," Krit said dismissively, heading into one of the tents.

Good riddance.

So the last man's name was Zacakar. He glanced at her once, a pure look of loathing, before sitting back down by the fire. He unsheathed his knife and began picking the dirt out from under his finger nails.

It was a long night; it was hours until she ended up curled on her side and, a couple hours after that, she managed to sink into a fitful sleep.

It seemed only seconds later when she was shaken awake. She blinked against the bright sun, dazed, and then she heard Krit's voice. It bothered her how that irritating tone had become familiar.

"Arise, forest-girl," he ordered. "Today we will reach the kingdom of Nikkoi!"

Her stomach lurched. It seemed she would finally be able to see the kingdoms.

**CHAPTER 19**

**TRAPPED**

They set off as soon as they could. Krit was impatient to reach their destination and his restiveness seemed to spread through the rest of the group. Everyone, that is, except Natal, who remained quiet and reserved as ever.

Kiethara, meanwhile, was in the worst state she had ever been in. The gruesome jewel had done some job on her. Out of all the blows she had ever taken, being drained of her magic was the one that knocked her off her feet, crippling her in the worst of ways.

She could no longer call herself a guardian.

A rustle in front of her brought her back to the present. Natal was digging around in the sack next to him and, after a minute, he pulled out something wrapped in cloth. For a moment her heart stopped: certainly it wasn't another horrible weapon to sap her of something else! She couldn't imagine what it could take from her now.

The cloth slipped off, revealing an object that was...golden, and sort of round. What hit her hardest was the smell. Kiethara couldn't remember smelling anything so invigorating. Natal ripped it in half with apparent ease before he brought one of the halves to his mouth to take a bite.

So it was food?

Her stomach didn't react at all, not a growl or a turn. It did not appear to be anything she had eaten before. She had never seen something like that growing from a tree, or off a bush. It looked like a rock.

Natal noticed her staring. He looked down at the object—with what appeared to be guilt—and then turned to look out the back of the wagon. She turned as well.

The scenery hadn't changed much.

Perhaps the grass was a little less green, the land was a bit flatter. Zacakar was on his horse, riding behind them, gazing out to the left with a bored expression. The sun was bright, the wind was chilly, and the clouds were few.

Natal turned his head back towards her, looking at her directly for the first time. She looked back warily. He then ripped a small part off of the untouched half and held it out towards her.

She looked at it suspiciously. Why was he giving her this? She couldn't take it anyway, for her limbs were tied up. Was he really that stupid?

Natal finally realized her dilemma and let out a quiet, frustrated sigh. He pressed a finger to his lips, telling her to be quiet, and then he pressed the golden brown piece unto her own. It was surprisingly soft, and now the smell was right under her nose...She opened her mouth to inhale the aroma and he pushed it in.

The taste!

It tasted nothing like the vegetation she ate in the forest, not even close. It was much better than her usual cuisine, all of which dulled in comparison. The substance was almost salty and, as she chewed it, it seemed to melt in her mouth. Her throat burned slightly as she swallowed, but as soon as it hit her stomach it snarled viciously and craved for more.

"What is that?" she mouthed at Natal.

"You've never had bread before?" he whispered back in a shocked voice. She shook her head, confused.

Natal gave her a loaded glance that seemed to question her sanity. He ripped off another tiny piece, checked to make sure no one was looking, and pushed it past her lips again. She chewed it eagerly, once again divulging in its intoxicating flavor.

He allowed her two more pieces before he slid back and ate the rest of it himself. Kiethara averted her eyes, trying to hide the desire to leap from her seat and snatch it from him like a mad woman. He had done her a great favor, asking for nothing in return. The least she could do was not pester him—or attack him—but that was easier said than done. The hunger she was feeling was all-consuming, devouring, but she fought it, telling herself that Krit would most likely kill the two of them if he discovered what had just transpired.

So, she returned to her numb state. It took her a good amount of time to teach herself how to ignore her renewed hunger, but the challenge kept her mind off other things. Like how the forest lay, unprotected...no, she couldn't think of that. Not if she needed to focus on staying alive.

She abruptly snapped out of her reverie when the wagon stopped.

To no one's surprise, Krit immediately began to bark out orders. Natal unsheathed his dagger and cut the ropes that bound her ankles together. She groaned and stretched her legs out, ignoring Natal when he flinched away.

Krit appeared at the back of the wagon with an alarming grin of anticipation. In his hand was a piece of cloth.

Krit said something to Natal she could not understand. Natal took the cloth and, before she could scoot away, he tied it over her eyes. He tied it well; the entire world was blocked from view.

She had been vulnerable before, but this was an entirely different feeling.

Kiethara let out a hoarse cry, thrusting one of her legs out. She made contact with something and it gave way with a groan. Good, she had hit one of them. Most likely, though, it was Natal, and she felt a slight pang of guilt. He had just fed her. But then again, he was part of this group whether he wanted to be or not, and she loathed them all.

Someone grabbed her around the waist and yanked her to the right. For a brief moment, the floor beneath her disappeared and she was thrashing in the air. Whoever had her by the waist didn't give in his hold, however, and he carried her off. After a few seconds that more so resembled hours, he let her down.

But he didn't let go of her. She twisted her torso to the left and to the right, kicking her leg behind her as a frightened horse would. She found no purchase.

She was trapped.

Trapped in this powerless state, trapped in this unfamiliar world! There was no chance of escape, no hope of a savior. She was a savior; she was a guardian! She screamed aloud in frustration.

"Stop that, forest-girl," Krit chided her, his lips purring the words directly into her ear. She should have known it was him holding her like this.

"Let. Me. _Go_." She said each word slowly, emphasizing her meaning with a cool, decided pause between each word.

"You do not scare me," Krit purred. She felt his lips press against the skin right under her ear. She shuddered, but for some reason she could not move her feet to kick him again. They were frozen on the ground. "No, you don't scare me at all. You might scare the others, but see, I have a weapon, yes. This lovely jewel"—she heard a chain click somewhere near her—"that takes away every frightening feature about you. You seem...almost innocent now. So tempting. But that is not why we are here. I want the honor of showing you your first kingdom."

The blindfold slipped away.

Kiethara gasped, louder than she had when she had first seen the valley.

They were on the top of a hill. The hill, it seemed, overlooked the kingdom. A thick, stone wall surrounded what seemed to be a small village. She could barely make out the closely packed houses, the multicolored tents, dirt paths, and the throngs of people that were crammed between the stone walls. Even from where they were positioned you could hear the hustle of the kingdom below; a shout, the crack of a whip, the cry of an animal. The kingdom of Nikkoi stretched far, reaching the top of the next hill and then dipping behind it. It was...amazing.

But Kiethara was disappointed.

What was this supposed to be? A mass of dead, badly deformed matter that polluted the natural beauty surrounding it? Inside the crude stone walls she couldn't spot a speck of green! There were no grand cottages that she had imagined, no majestic qualities. The whole thing was rather gray.

"Impressed?" Krit purred in her ear.

She snorted.

"This is what you call impressive? This...this settlement of mud and stone? This ugly monument to the degraded civilization you live in? Hah! I've seen better."

She could practically hear his jaw drop open, feel the annoyance and frustration simmer inside him. His teeth snapped back together as he yanked her head back, using her waist long hair.

"What could you mean by that? Are you telling me you have already seen a kingdom, forest-girl?"

"No, but I've seen more beautiful and stunning scenes in the forest, by far. And this," she said, nodding towards Nikkoi, "is no kingdom."

"You dare insult my home?" he hissed.

"You dare take me from mine?" she challenged.

His only answer was a frustrated silence. Kiethara smiled.

"That is what you think, eh?" he asked after a minute. "Fine, do so. It's your home now, too."

His words sent ice through her as she realized how true they really were. She choked back the sudden wave of panic and sorrow that threatened to expose her for how weak she was. His words just might be true; she might never see any other view but this one again.

This is why she hated the sensation of hope—it led to this gut-wrenching, twisted, painful feeling of loss and disappointment.

"Come now, we must be off," Krit commanded, pulling her back towards the covered wagon.

"Tie her up," Krit said offhandedly. Natal complied.

With that, the nightmare marched on again. She could only see a limited amount through a small opening in the cover at the back of the wagon, but she could tell they were almost at Nikkoi. She could hear it: shouts, bells, metallic clanks, and hundreds of other noises hat mingled into a strange melody. None of the sounds she heard were as beautiful as the music in her mother's locket. There were also many smells; most were unfamiliar, but some, like the smells of animals, were familiar.

What really shocked her was how...thick and disgusting the air was. It went through her throat roughly, igniting a coughing fit that burned. It smelled strongly of smoke. It was nothing like the pure, clean air of the forest.

After a few minutes the wagon slowed and everything was suddenly cast into shadow. Voices in the same alien tongue shouted out and Krit shouted back. There was a strong creaking sound, and then the wagon moved forward. Rolling forward slowly, a massive wooden door came into view, the only exit through the stone walls.

Krit barked out something else from the front. Natal responded, sounding reluctant. Krit's response was sharp.

Natal got to his knees and reached towards the pile in the corner. He took out two rags and a bottle.

One of the rags went over her eyes again—she had been expecting that.

Then there was a clink of glass, accompanied with an atrocious smell. Suddenly, she knew what was going to happen, but it was too late. The rag was pressed over her nose and mouth, and everything faded away...

Kiethara awoke slowly. As consciousness crept back onto her, some parts of her body came to life faster than others did. Especially her throat and, as soon as she felt it, she wished she was still knocked out.

It felt as though someone had used knifes to carve out the inside of it. Every breath she took, no matter how shallow, caused the flesh to itch and burn. She needed water and she needed it now.

Opening her eyes proved more of a challenge than she would have figured. Once she accomplished that, it took just as long for them to adjust.

She was lying on a cold, stone floor. The room she was in seemed to be all stone, lit by a single torch. Across from her there was a staircase, which led to a wooden door. There was a bucket in the far corner, which smelled horrible, but besides from that, the room was bare.

Kiethara coughed—groaning as the flames erupted in her throat—and pulled herself up. She leaned her head against the wall, trying to overcome the swaying in her head. It frightened her how much that small movement cost her.

For the first time in days, she was finally alone.

The thought gave her a small bit of relief. She didn't have to fight as hard; she didn't have to hide any expression or hold back any tears. Tears that were flowing down her cheeks now.

It was a couple of long moments before she could get them to stop. It was really pointless to cry, for it got her nowhere and did nothing. She only wished she could cup her hands and collect her tears, so at least she would have something to drink.

A muffled noise came from upstairs, making her freeze. It got louder alarmingly fast; she quickly whipped away the wet streaks on her cheeks as the door burst open.

Rahell strutted down the stairs, carrying a metal tray. He seemed to be a little annoyed.

"Here you go, princess," he sneered as he tossed the tray at her feet. On it was a chunk of what Natal had given her before. He had called it bread?

"Feeding you," Rahell continued to glare at her as he mumbled. "What's next, a bath and a bed? Bah!"

"Water," she croaked.

"Yes, of course, take your water," he muttered. He threw down a canteen at her feet, before stomping back up the stairs and disappeared.

Kiethara grabbed the canteen with a gasp. In one of Aaron's numerous chats, he had described to her the leather pouch traveler's used to carry their water. She gulped down the contents of the container with gusto, ignoring the searing burn of her throat. She lowered the canteen, breathing heavily. The water did wonders; she felt she could think clearly for the first time in days.

Kiethara then picked up the bread. It was cool and hard, like a stone. People really ate this? She wondered about how they made it taste so good. She tore at the bread with the same amount of gusto she had with the water. It wasn't as good as what Natal had given her, but still delectable.

Being alone turned out to be very, very dull. She realized that after about an hour. More time passed than she cared to account for, very slowly, and she began to get frustrated. She couldn't tell if it was night, if it was day, or if they had just decided to leave her here to die.

Then, after endless waiting, someone finally came.

It was Zacakar who came in this time. He grunted something at her in their unfamiliar tongue before cutting the ropes around her ankles. He tugged her up by the elbow and then led her towards the stairs. Her heart skipped a beat. She wasn't sure yet if upstairs was where she wanted to go. Her legs dragged as they regained their strength, but she managed to make it up the stairs; he opened the wooden door for her and shoved her through the doorway.

It was a well-furnished room. There was a fire crackling in the wall across from her. The walls were not stone, but paneled with wood, and the furniture was neatly carved. A small area rug took up some of the musty floor, its colors and patterns matching those of the cushions on the chairs. It was dark besides the fire, with no windows. The fact gave her chills.

Four men were standing in the doorway. She recognized three—Krit, Natal, and Rahell—but the fourth she didn't. He was a short man, plump, with the same tanned skin and a bald head. His robe far exceeded anything surrounding him in magnificence and numerous rings fit his fat, pudgy fingers. He stared at her with a hungry expression as Zacakar pushed her forward.

Krit and the man started talking; she gritted her teeth in frustration because she couldn't understand what they were saying. They were walking towards her, circling as though they wanted to view her at every angle. She eyed the man warily.

"Who is he?" she croaked to Krit. The man looked up with a curious expression, but Krit just shook his head at him.

"A potential buyer. Just stand there and look pretty, eh?" he told her.

The man stopped circling her. He walked towards her, running his mouth off with unfamiliar words, and reached for the hem of her dirty white dress.

Kiethara brought her knee up with as much force as she could muster. It came into contact with the man's protruding belly. He cried out in shock, doubling over in pain. Zacakar and Natal rushed forward to restrain her as Krit hurried forward to help the man.

The plump man starting screaming out alien words, and she could tell most of it was directed at her. Kiethara raised her chin high and stared him in the eye, portrayer her message clearly with her navy blue eyes: _Do not touch me._

The man left the room.

Krit wasted not a moment in coming up to her and striking her across the face. His own expression was livid; his nostrils flaring and eyes bugging.

"What was that?! He might have brought you, for a lot of money! You would have had a good life!" he screamed.

"No," Kiethara told him softly. "My life is in the forest, in my home. Any life outside of there is wretched! Did you not see what he tried to do? I do not know him! I want to return to the home I come from and to the people I love. To the man I love. I will not be sold to another like a dog."

Her words seemed to have a great effect on all of them. They were frozen, staring at her with wide eyes. What had they been thinking? That she had wanted to be sold to that man? That she never wanted to return home again? She lived for the forest, she lived for her power. She had to be a guardian, for she could be nothing else.

"You...you love a man? And he loves you?" Natal asked quietly.

"Yes, very much," Kiethara whispered. "And the forest will fall without me. No more magic. Gandador will rule."

Silence followed.

"It does not matter. We do not use magic," Krit said dismissively.

"That fact doesn't matter to Gandador. He will still come to destroy you, because you are useless."

"Put her back downstairs," Krit ordered loudly, pointing at the door. Zacakar rushed forward and shoved her towards the staircase.

Zacakar pointed at the far wall when they had reached the bottom and then turned to go back up. He didn't even bother tying her up again. She went to the wall and slid down it, closing her eyes.

She fell asleep, to her surprise. However, after what she thought had been a very short time, she was jolted awake. Something, or someone, was nearby. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Then she finally heard it, soft footsteps descending down the stairs. The torch in the room had gone out, so she could not see a thing.

He padded closer, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body.

"Come," Natal whispered. "I will get you out of here."

**CHAPTER 20**

**DISAPPOINTMENT**

"Nat—" she started to cry in surprise, but his hand clamped over her mouth.

"Shh!" he hissed at her. "Follow me, but quickly."

She nodded and his hand disappeared from her mouth as she pulled herself up. It was far too dark to see; all she had to guide her was her memory. Needless to say, she could not see Natal, but she could hear him treading carefully in front of her. Again, she felt immensely vulnerable with no sight to help her. What if Natal was leading her into some sort of trap? What if there was a knife waiting for her just a step away? The thought made her stomach drop.

Kiethara's trepidation was interrupted when her shins made contact with the bottom step of the stairs. Using the cool stone wall to keep her balance, she pulled herself up one step at a time.

Once she had pulled herself up the stairs, which had seemed longer than she remembered, the door opened in front of her. Light poured out of the crack, hurting her eyes but illuminating her path. Natal's figure loomed as a shadow in the light, and he silently beckoned for her to follow.

He himself then slipped through the crack. She was impressed that someone of his stature could fit through such a small opening. She let go off the wall and pushed herself through the crack, silently closing the door behind her.

Kiethara blinked rapidly at the increase in light; it took her eyes a long moment to adjust. She was in the same room she had been brought to before, and it was still just as menacing as it had appeared when it was full of those awful men. A fire was crackling in its hearth while the chairs and rugs tried vainly to beautify the room. She looked over at Natal, questions on her lips and hope budding in her chest.

"This way," Natal whispered. He was already hurrying towards the door to the left. Kiethara padded after him silently.

Again, they slipped through the smallest opening as possible. It led to a narrow hallway, but it, at least, had windows. It surprised her how much of a relief it was to finally see the sky again. Outside, it was just getting dark. The sun was in the process of setting, casting everything under it into an orange glow. From where she had been held, she would have sworn it was the dead of night.

Natal urged her on, towards the door at the end of the hall. They slipped through it. She was disappointed to see that it only led to another hallway; however, this one not only had windows but many doors, all of which were already opened. They tiptoed past the first one, which led to an empty room. Luck seemed to be on their side.

Ahead of her, Natal let out a soft gasp.

Kiethara raised her head to see him taking hurried steps back. Reaching behind him, he grabbed her arm and flung her back into the empty room they had just passed. She stumbled, but quickly caught herself on the wall. There she froze, not letting one muscle in her body move.

Loud, thudding footsteps echoed from the hall.

Luck, it seemed, was not on their side after all.

Even in its different language, there was still no mistaking Krit's voice. His tone was obnoxious as ever, yet suspicious. She pressed her back up against the wall and mashed her lips together. Her heart thudded in her chest so loudly that she swore Krit could hear it through the wall, which only separated them by inches.

Natal's voice answered. How sure and calm he sounded! If the situation had been reversed, she doubted that she would have been able to utter even one convincing word.

The voices outside quieted, and then the sound of Krit's footsteps echoed out. Kiethara held her breath as she watched his shadow cross through the room while his figure walked past the doorway. He didn't pause; the sound of the door slamming at the end of the hall was the most welcome sound she had ever heard. She closed her eyes and let out a deep breath.

Something warm touched her arm.

Kiethara jumped, but it was only Natal, beckoning her from the room. Her heart was still throbbing painfully, so she followed him slowly, still expecting Krit to walk in on them at any second. She shuddered at the thought of what Krit would do if he caught them...

They made their way through the rest of the hallway without another incident. The door squeaked when they opened it, causing the two of them to flinch, but nobody came to investigate. To anyone else, the noise might have been inconsequential, but to her, it was a blaring alarm that screamed out their position. Even in the silence, she could hear her heart drumming in her ears much too loudly.

The entered the biggest room she had seen yet. Long couches backed up against the wall, thick rugs covered the floor, and golden decorations were scattered about. Despite its apparent grandeur, the room was just as musty as the rest of them were. None of this really caught her attention, anyway. She was done looking at these awe-inspiring, alien sights; she was more interested in the double doors that lay directly before her. It was simply a very lavishly decorated entrance to freedom, and nothing more.

This time, she went first. She pushed her legs forward with as much strength as she could muster, but quietly. It took all her self-control not to sprint out of the building, but she knew she could not risk it, for they were too close to let everything go.

Natal caught up to her a few feet from the door and put a restraining hand on her arm. A faint, amused smile touched his lips as he took in her eager desperation, but at the moment, she did not care for what he thought of her. She pointed to the door, impatient, and his smile, which was usually so reserved, became more pronounced than ever. He opened the door.

The outside was chilly still, reminding her that winter was not far off. Just another reason for her to get back to the forest as quickly as she could—she needed to prepare.

Kiethara turned to Natal and found she could not speak.

He had done something so incredible—he could have turned his back to her situation; perhaps he would have even kept some of the profit they would have made off her. He hadn't, however; he had done something righteous.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome," Natal said. Emotion flickered deep in his eyes. "I know you think of me badly, no? But I understand you. I know, too, what it feels like to be torn away from those you love. That is the only reason I am here. Taking you was not right."

Kiethara felt her throat close in sorrow and disbelief as Natal's angry tears shone in his eyes; she could tell that he spoke from experience, that he was sharing in the pain she felt as well. She reached up and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I am sorry. Sorry for causing you trouble and sorry for making you risk your life now. You...cannot fathom how much I admire your courage. I wish I could be that brave," Kiethara looked away from him, towards the setting sun. "The people who hold a place in your heart are very lucky. I will always remember you, Natal."

"As I will you, forest-girl," Natal replied with a grin. A farewell.

Kiethara attempted one last smile, failed, and then turned away. She did not know what lay before her, but she knew what lay behind her. She was all too eager to be parted from it.

The dirt road she began to jog down was lined with small houses. Several people were still out and they all stared at her as she passed them by. She couldn't tell why, for she didn't think she looked that different...Was it her crystals, maybe?

The thought brought her up short. She froze in the middle of the road, eyes wide, nothing but hope coursing through her veins. She was far away from that jewel now, and everyone who had touched it...

Looking down, she saw nothing but dead, dull crystals that did naught but mock her.

Disappointment.

Oh, it was such a crushing thing. It seemed to crush her chest, her stomach, even her thoughts. Her eyes pricked angrily as she realized she was still powerless.

She really, _really_ hated hope. It was almost an inevitable thing, for hope to be disappointed. Time and time again, when she most expected things to go right, they steered in the opposite direction, abandoning her! There was love, which, when it was true, could never be diminished. There was faith, which brought with it a loyalty that could not be broken. But then there was hope, and hope was only a mere shadow, an echo, of what was faith and what was love. A shadow that came out when the sun did and disappeared at the first sign of darkness.

Hope could not be trusted.

Kiethara folded her arms across her chest. She didn't want to look at the cold, heavy, golden bracelets that permanently clung to her arms.

She rounded a corner and froze in surprise. It was much more crowded here, and much louder. Different colored tents were crowded with people on the wide path, displaying flowers, fruits, vegetables, livestock, clothes, and jewelry. Most were women, and most had an analogous look—all of them had on long, slimming dresses that fell to their ankles, each with their hair pulled back into a tight bun; only the small toddlers had their hair loose. That made Kiethara very self-conscious about her own hair, which hung long and loose down to her waist, tangled and dirty.

She didn't look anything like them and, as she continued down the dirt path, the market place got quieter and quieter after each passing moment. Kiethara had a horrible suspicion that it was her who was causing this. She looked down, her cheeks flaring red, and quickened her pace.

By the time she made it to the center of the road, not a single person could be heard. Only the sound of animals vibrated off the walls.

She quickened her pace even further. It was only when she got the end of the road did the noises pick back up again.

"Who was _that?!_ "

"Did you see how short her dress was?"

"She looked like a beggar, but those bracelets..."

"When was the last time she washed?"

Question after question was exclaimed, and Kiethara winced at each one until the voices began to blend back together. She rounded the corner with overwhelming relief. Too afraid to look behind her, she sprinted down the road.

Luckily, she seemed to have finally wandered into the less populated area of Nikkoi. It wasn't a very rich section, either, judging by the degradation of the small houses. Not that she had any right to judge—she didn't even live in a house.

The great stone wall rose steadily from behind the houses as she got closer. It seemed...a bit terrifying, to tell the truth. Intimidating. She stared at it with wide eyes as she dragged her beaten body towards it. Somewhere in that stone wall was the next step in her plan to escape. All she had to do was follow it.

The stone wall, however, was further away than she had originally thought. By the time the houses thinned and she could see the wall from top to bottom, she was panting and moaning in exertion. Why was she so weak?! The men really hadn't done all that much to her, at least, nothing as bad as what Gandador had done to her in the forest.

Then again, Gandador had never managed to drain every drip of magic she had from her body.

The sun had finally set now, casting everything around her into darker and richer hues. Behind her, torches were lit. The sight of that lifted her spirits by a diminutive amount; at least the darkness would not be a problem for her tonight.

Kiethara reached a hand out and placed it on the massive stone structure before her. It was very cool to the touch, almost freezing. The heat of the torches certainly did not reach this far. With a sigh, she turned to her left and began walking alongside it.

She had never been too lonely in the forest. Most of the time, she had not minded the quiet that the forest gave her, the time she had to herself. It seemed strange that it bothered her now, surrounded by people. But the more and more she watched the happy families and couples walking by, the more and more she was struck down by self-pity. Self-pity did her no good; it was true, and she had been wallowing ever since she had left Natal. She tried to shake off the bitterness, but the taste remained inside her mouth.

Fortunately, her destination was not as far as she had feared. She was first notified when the throngs of carefree people slowly transformed into lines of armored men. She paused in the shadows and watched them. The paced back and forth in front of the gate, some carrying torches and others armed with swords. There expressions were harsh, as harsh as the stone wall behind them, and Kiethara had no idea how she was supposed to get past them. She doubted they would let her walk through the gate unmolested. They would stop her and they would question her and, right now, that was too much attention than she cared for. She was a fifteen year old girl adorned in nothing but a dress and two pieces of finery, with a story that none of them would believe.

I'm a guardian, see, and I need to get back to the forest before my sadistic father burns it down. The only reason I'm here is because I was kidnapped by four men who used a necklace to sap me of all my strength and power...Now do you mind if I go through?

There was a battle lost before it started.

She needed them to leave. She needed a distraction—one big enough to make all seven guards leave their post.

A few ideas ran quickly through her head.

One of them stuck, and Kiethara knew she would have to do it.

First, she needed some hay. Step one was too easy, all she had to do was backtrack a couple of steps and grab a handful from one of the numerous piles that littered the streets of Nikkoi. As soon as she had an adequate amount, she walked as casually as she could back down the road she had come from.

The only way this would work was if she remembered the exact path she was taking now. If she got lost, everything she was doing now would be for nothing. Luckily, life in the forest had given her a wonderful sense of direction, since the only landmarks she had ever had were about a thousand trees, all of which looked nearly the same.

At the end of the road, a lit torch was latched against the wall. Kiethara reached up on her toes and held the tip of the hay against the flames. It caught instantly, just as she had hoped it would. Now she only had moments. She hurried forward, praying with all of her might that no one would round the corner.

With a deep breath, she pulled her arm back and threw her burning bundle on the red tent by the corner.

It immediately caught fire. That was all she needed to see before she wheeled around and began walking back the way she had come. Screams started from behind her, and numerous people ran by her in pursuit of the commotion. To her delight, four armored men ran by.

She opened her stride to the limit and pushed her legs as far and as hard as she could without breaking into a run that might attract attention. She reached the stone wall and turned left, towards the gate. There was only one man left at the gate, but he was several paces away, craning his neck in attempt to get a view of the uproar. Kiethara smiled a grim smile and set forth silently.

She reached the gate without incident, but her heart was pounding at an incredible velocity. The man with the torch did not turn. He continued to stare, transfixed, at the flames that were now building. Kiethara reached the gate at last, and then paused, with one hand on the wooden doors. Could she open it and slip off without him seeing? Most likely not. But she could not just stand there for the rest of her life, waiting to see if the guard would ever notice her.

So with a deep breath she threw off the latch and flung the doors open. A startled cry from behind her told her the man had seen her.

"Stop!" he cried, but his words had the opposite effect. She sprinted out of Nikkoi without a backwards glance and, then, she was flying.

Not literally, but it was almost the same glorious sensation. Her legs threw her forward as they pushed off the ground and her arms pumped readily at her sides. Her dirty hair was whipped out of her face, her dress flattened against her front.

Kiethara let out a peel of delicious laughter as she ran up the hill. She was free! Free! She wanted to run on forever, until she reached the forest and saw that every tree was safe from harm.

Her body had other ideas.

After a while she collapsed, tumbling into the grassy ground. She laid there for a moment, with her face pressed into the dirt until the need to inhale made her roll onto her back. Her breathing came in quick gasps tuned to throbs of pain. She couldn't go on; she couldn't even move. All she wanted to do was close her eyes and die.

No!

That was not allowed; no, it was certainly out of the question. After all she had endured, it would be plain foolishness to let it slip away for nothing.

It took many more encouraging thoughts before Kiethara could make herself sit up. She lifted her head to the sky, to the stars, and allowed a single tear to roll down her cheek. A cool breeze whisked around her and she focused on that until her emotions calmed and quieted themselves. Aaron. He was counting on her, and she never disappointed him. She knew what disappointment felt like and she did not want Aaron to be brought to that by her.

Well, first, she needed another plan. How in the world was she supposed to get to the forest? She could be running in the opposite direction, for all she knew. She needed directions to start with...perhaps a traveler might know the way. She looked around her, as though expecting to see one appear out of the darkness. Mm, it would be best to wait for morning, for first light, when she could see and when more people would be out. Tomorrow, that's when she would ask.

Now, all she had to do was wait.

No matter how hard she tried, however, she could not force herself to sleep. It wasn't the chilly temperatures, or the hard ground beneath her. Those conditions were almost welcome, because they resembled the environment she experienced in the forest and she knew how to survive them. She could not close her eyes. In the quiet, in the peace and safety, her mind finally had the chance to catch up with everything she had experienced since her capture. She finally had the chance to become overwhelmed by it. All the sights, all the sounds, and all the new information buzzed around inside her head like a swarm of angry bees. Sleep would have been a nice antidote to this sensory overload, but it wouldn't come, and the lonely night wore on.

### ***

Kiethara pulled herself to her feet as soon as the first rays touched the horizon. She had a vague idea where Nikkoi lay, so she set of in that direction.

It wasn't long before her assumptions were proved correct. There, at the base of the hill, was the considerable kingdom. In her opinion, the stone walls she had once marveled now seemed a bit flimsy, compared to what they were trying to protect.

She plopped herself down on top of the knoll, absentmindedly picking at a blade of grass while her surroundings grew lighter and lighter. Finally, the gates opened up and a few people strolled out.

She slinked down the hill slowly. She needed to look innocent, haggard, and needy. The last two were easy. She also needed to make it clear that all she needed were directions: not payment and not food.

She directed her course towards one person in particular; a lady. She looked to be middle aged and adorned a mindless expression as she led her mule by a rope. There was nothing sinister about her and, as the rest of the people out were men, the lady was her best chance at getting what she needed.

"Excuse me, ma'am!" Kiethara called out as she approached her. The woman looked up, and then her eyes narrowed.

"What do ye want?" she asked.

"Nothing but directions," Kiethara explained readily. She bowed her head in respect.

"Likely story! To where?"

"The legendary forest, in the center of the world," she answered. The woman's expression became extremely surprised, but then she composed her features, chewing on her lip.

"Where are ye parents?" the woman asked.

"Dead," she lied.

The woman exhaled sharply, and then suddenly grabbed a fistful of Kiethara's hair. She started dragging her and the mule towards the gate of Nikkoi, making disgruntled sounds all the way.

"Lady! What are you doing? Stop!" Kiethara cried, trying to pull herself free. The lady would have none of that; instead, she took the long rope that was tied to the mule and wrapped it around Kiethara, holding her tight, a hand still in her hair. The mule nickered dully.

"You're a bloody orphan! A damned runaway! No wonder ye look like that! To the trade with ye, missy, I'll make sure of it. I might even get paid for it!"

The lady's strength was surprisingly fierce and, tangled as she was, Kiethara could not get herself free. It was a long and embarrassing walk; the lady seemed to drag her through the most crowded streets of Nikkoi. People stared as they marched by and, when they recovered, their laughter could be heard even after they turned a corner. Nobody seemed to want to help her. It was more of a show to them, a cruel idea of entertainment. One vender even threw a tomato at her, where it smacked her squarely in the cheek before splattering at her feet.

They finally reached what seemed to be a small square, filled with carts, carriages, and wagons. Shouts rang out, chains jingled, and horses snorted.

She was dragged to a wooden table placed in the center of the commotion, where a cruel looking man and a tiny, frail looking man both sat. The smaller, thin man had a piece of parchment positioned in front of him and a quill in hand. The lady released her hold on her, pulling her animal away from Kiethara as though afraid she was diseased, and then pushed her forward into the table.

"I here found this orphan 'bout ready to run. I thought ye might want her."

The tiny man nodded and began scribbling things down with his quill. He looked up at her. "Name?"

Kiethara glared at the man and then turned to leave, but the woman's hands were waiting for her. The larger, brutal looking man stood up and moved forward with a grin. He reached down and unhitched a leather whip from his belt. She eyed the whip warily before turning back to the other man. What in the world could she do to get out this? Play along?

"Kiethara."

"Well, Kiethara, welcome to your new life of slavery," the man informed her.

Yes, her luck certainly had run out.

**CHAPTER 21**

**MADNESS**

The larger man rounded the table as Kiethara stood there, stunned, unable to process the words. When they did sink in she turned, the only thought in her mind to run, but the man grabbed her around the waist. She let out a horrible, throat-searing scream, one that ripped through the square with such force that all the commotion around them went silent.

She shrieked again as the man holding her yanked her back, the motion lifting her muddy feet off the dirt path. She thrashed wildly, her hair blinding her for a moment, but through it she saw the woman who had brought her go pale. Kiethara spat the hair from her mouth and screamed at her, seeing nothing but rage. The lady stumbled back and tripped into the dirt.

"Shudda up!" the man yelled, jerking her hard in the opposite direction.

She clawed at his arm, kicked him in his knees, and elbowed him in his ribs. It made no difference, though, and nothing could hinder the strength of his arm or the brisk pace of his walk. She watched in despair as he dragged her towards another wagon. No! _No!_

Kiethara howled again, maddened by the sight of the iron bars that promised her there would be no escape this time. She braced her feet against the back of the wagon and shoved with all her might. It pushed the man back a step, but his grip was true, and it remained firm as he pushed her forward with a grunt. It was all she could do to keep her legs in place against the wood.

"Stop it, ye little twit! Get in there!" the man ordered, freeing one of his arms to take a swipe at her legs. She was shoved unceremoniously into the cage, head first, and her skull was sent knocking against one of the bars. All she saw was stars for a moment, and the man took advantage. The door clanked shut and the lock was drawn.

No!

Her surroundings were blurred, common sense faded, and meaning was lost. She pressed herself up against the bars, her wild thrashing and screaming calling the attention from every person. Kiethara felt disconnected from her body, as though she was watching herself fight from another's point of view. It was someone else smashing her body against the bars and it was someone else's voice ripping through the air. All she could think was _help her_. Someone please help the girl...After everything that she had survived these past few days, how could she be here? What had she done to deserve this degree of torture? It was far too much for any ordinary person to endure.

But she had not been born an ordinary person.

No, she had been born a guardian, and it was a curse.

In a far corner of her mind, where a bit of sense lingered, something contradicted her thoughts. There was a reason behind her faithful protecting, but in her madness, she could not find it.

Through her despair, which clouded not only her vision but her judgment as well, she saw a figure approach her. A savior? No, it was the man. The man with the whip. A faint crack sounded through her screams. Her hand hurt. She yanked them back from the cage bars.

There was nothing in this cage for her; she had no way to escape it.

The madness continued.

### ***

Eventually, she lost her voice, and the screaming ceased.

Eventually, she lost her strength, and the thrashing ceased.

Kiethara lay there, listless, and watched with uncaring eyes as people moved all around her. Men bustled back and forth, children as well as adults were tied up and sent into cages, and then the wagon lurched forward.

Then she heard the most beautiful sound. It broke her from her insane trance; emotion and awareness returning. She heard the sound again and smiled.

It was the rustling of leaves.

Kiethara shook her head, trying to clear it. She used the bar next to her to pull herself up into a more modest position. Oh, she needed to get her thoughts in order. She needed to understand where she stood now.

First, she was alive. That was more than she had expected at this point. Second, she wasn't very badly injured. Only her hands, which she now realized had been whipped. But nothing, thankfully, that would stop her if she ever got the chance to make a run for it.

Third, the moving wagon most likely meant that they were leaving Nikkoi. At this point, she had been so desperate to leave the thrice-accursed kingdom that she accepted it whole-heartedly, even if she was leaving it in a cage.

That was about it for the positive outlooks she could conjure about the situation. There were other, less agreeable things to consider.

To start with, she had no magic. She was unable to use the one weapon she had never been without before, which made her completely powerless to her enemies.

To add to that, she was not in the forest. She was alone and quite lost in unfamiliar environments; not to mention, she was at a complete lost on how she would ever return to the forest.

And to top it all off, she was at the complete mercy of everyone and everything around her. It was as though she was trying to fight her way through a large ocean without drowning, but the currents kept grabbing her and pushing her in the wrong direction.

Despite all that, what really bothered her was the cage. She could forget everything else if she just wasn't locked in a cage. She couldn't think of a more degrading, susceptible position to be in. It went beyond humiliating.

"Are you all right?" a small voice to her left asked.

Kiethara jumped. She turned her head to the left to see there was another cage next to hers. Behind the rusty bars sat a young, extremely thin little boy who looked to be only six or seven. The boy had sandy colored hair, warm brown eyes, and numerous freckles that were sprinkled over his cheeks and nose, accounting for all the times his face had been kissed by the sun. Underneath the freckles was skin as pale as a sheet, with heavy bags etched under his eyes. He seemed to be dressed in rags, tatters of what used to be a shirt and a pair of short trousers.

"No," she whispered in a dead voice, but she gave the boy a small smile.

The boy coughed, but his smile told her it had been meant to be a chuckle.

"I suppose none of us are."

Kiethara scrutinized the boy. She felt such a strong stab of pity. She knew why she was here, but she couldn't believe that someone would have locked up this small child...He should be running through the streets of his kingdom, laughing and playing with the other children, just as Kiethara had saw the others do yesterday during her brief spite of freedom.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Desan," he answered. "Yours?"

"Kiethara."

They were quiet for a minute, listening to the sounds around them. The rocking of the cart was, truthfully, making her drowsy. How she longed for her hammock.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

"My parents died and I don't have any relatives that want me. What other life is there for me? It wasn't like I had much of a choice," he told her, a bit bitterly.

"You could have run," she suggested.

"And starved?" he challenged.

"I suppose you're right," Kiethara had forgotten that some people could not grow their food as she could. Well, at the moment, neither could she...

"Well, what about you?" he asked.

Kiethara bit her lip. What could she tell him? She didn't know if she could trust him with the truth and she doubted he would believe it, even if she did.

"I did not mean to pry," Desan said quickly. "You don't have to tell me."

"No, no, it's not you, it's me. My story is very complicated."

"Oh."

"Let's just say I was forcibly taken from my home, but then I got away from those villains. But then I got caught by these people," she described.

"That doesn't sound too complicated," he commented.

"I'm sparing you a couple of horrid and confusing details," Kiethara smiled. Desan grinned back.

"For a captured boy, you still have a bright smile," she noted.

"Well," he said. "I'm not going to get myself anywhere by moping around this joint, am I?"

Kiethara grimaced. Her screams had gotten her nothing but a sore throat.

"Also," he continued, looking at her shyly. "It's not so bad when you're not alone."

She blushed at his words. He was so sweet, so innocent; she had a sudden urge to protect him. Where this motherly instinct had come from, or why it surfaced, she did not know. But it was there now, making her look at the boy with tender eyes.

"You're right," she said. "It's much better being with someone than without."

She was suddenly aware that hushed voices had started up behind her. She turned and, to her shock, saw more cages with people in them. Her cage and Desan's were positioned right at the end of the wagon, giving them the view of grassy plains and light blue skies.

"Tell me about your family," she suggested to him a whisper, all too aware of the other slaves behind them now.

"My dad was the best!" the boy declared proudly. "He was a farmer, and a mighty good one! We always had the best crops, see, until one year. Mamma got a terrible disease and Pappa got busy watching over her. I tried to do what I could, but I couldn't do that much because I was too young.

"Then some bad weather hit us, making our harvest mighty pitiful. Soon Pappa caught what Mamma had, and we couldn't afford a doctor. They just kept on getting worse...

"My dad really lost it when my mum died. The neighbors came over and buried her in a far off valley, or so they told me, so her spirit could rest in peace. But Pappa kept saying he kept seeing her everywhere. I never saw anything...and then he passed, too, and that was that. I was too lost in my own grieving to do anything about his body, so the neighbors came back and took his body just like they had taken Mamma and went to bury him in the same field. They talked for a good long while about what to do with me, but in the end, they just stuck me here," he finished.

"I'm sorry," Kiethara whispered, trying to hide the lump in her throat.

"You didn't do anything," he said with a shrug.

They lapsed into silence, but it was not an awkward one. Strangely, she felt rather calm. Not rigid with fear or shaking with frustration. It was as though she had decided just to drift along now, not fighting the rough current that held her.

"What about your family?" Desan asked quietly.

"My mother," Kiethara started with a faint smile. "She was a wonderful person. Love radiated off of her; I can still feel it in the air when I'm home. It was impossible for you not to love her. Well, except for one man."

"Who?"

"Gandador," she blurted out without thinking. She put a hand over her mouth, but it was too late. Desan's eyes widened in horror.

"Gandador?" he whispered, as though he was afraid the man they were talking about could hear them.

"Yes," Kiethara sighed. "He killed my mother when I was very young."

"What about your daddy?"

"I-I never knew my father," she said quickly.

"I'm sure he was a great man," Desan said.

Kiethara smiled softly at the boy. Maybe her father had been a great man at some point.

"How old are you?" she asked him.

"Nine, I think."

_Nine_. That was surefire proof that the boy hadn't had a square meal in years. He was so small, so thin.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Fifteen."

They continued their small conversation, asking random questions. Just the sound of another friendly voice was a comfort they were grateful for. Neither of them would let the conversation die out, even though the voices of the others behind them had ceased hours ago. It was only until the sun was low in the sky and the wagon stopped did they finally fall quiet.

Voices, mostly male, rang out with a multitude of other noises. It was quite a while before anyone came over to their wagon. Desan's cage was opened first, and they made him stick out his limbs so they could tie him up. Desan shot her a small, fearful look before the man grabbed him and tossed him onto the grass behind the wagon.

It took several painful minutes and three strong men before they were finally able to tie Kiethara up. Annoyed, they tossed her a little too roughly into the grass. She scowled back at the as she scooted towards Desan, grimacing when another man kicked her as he passed by.

"There's no point in fighting it," Desan told her.

"I know," she sighed. "I just want them to know I'm not one to be messed with."

Everyone, including several of the slaves, was watching her with wary eyes. Many of them had already inched away; the men that guarded the group all had their eyes on her.

"Well, they know that now," he mumbled.

Kiethara then noticed three women walking towards them. The one in the front was the one who had caught Kiethara's attention. She was tall, a bit plump, and was wearing an expression that promised violence. Her black and gray hair was pulled back into a tight bun and her plain brown dress already had the sleeves pulled up. Her beady eyes swept over the slaves until they narrowed in on Kiethara. Kiethara stared boldly back.

"We're here to wash," the lady declared.

The guard grunted his approval.

"I'll take that one first."

Kiethara didn't need to ask who that one would be. She had made a spectacle of herself, but only because she was prepared for the challenge.

The man came up to her and cut the ropes binding her legs. Kiethara rose unsteadily to her feet, staggering slightly.

The woman grabbed her impatiently and steered her away from the group.

"Wash?" Kiethara asked, anxious.

"Speak only when spoken too," the woman said, giving her a sharp prod in the back as she led her to the outskirts of the camp.

Kiethara picked up the sound of rushing water. They had to walk several more yards until she could see it. By what was apparent in the dimming light, it was a wide, deep blue river, giving the impression that it had some depth to it. A few people were already wading in its waters.

The lady holding on to her led her to the right, toward a more vacant part of the stream. Without pausing, she marched them at the same pace into the middle of the river.

Kiethara cringed when the icy water made contact with her skin, but she managed to keep her legs moving until they were waist deep. Despite the temperature, it felt good to have the cool liquid rush over her, wiping away the grim she had been collecting for days now.

"We're washing ye, so people will buy ye," the woman answered at last, relenting.

Kiethara's stomach dropped. Maybe she didn't want to be clean.

"Under," the lady ordered, pushing down on her shoulders. Kiethara sucked in a gulp of air before allowing herself to be submerged.

Underneath the surface, it was cool, quiet; the water was numbing. A hand pulled her up and her fears and aches came back as soon as her head broke the surface. The woman grabbed the hem of her dress and yanked it up. Kiethara gasped, instinct jolting through her, twisting out of the woman's grasp.

The woman pounced, tackling her into the water before dragging her up by the hair.

"Don't even think ye can get away with something like that when ye with me," the woman hissed. "We got men on horses, and dogs to tear ye into bits."

The woman continued—a little more roughly—to pull up her dress. She couldn't take it off all the way with Kiethara's hand tied up, but she managed to push it up as far as it would go. The woman pulled a rag out from the bodice of her dress and dipped it heavily into the water before she began to scrub her down. Kiethara cringed at every touch, her pride withering in response to the debasing process.

"Ye not used to being touched," the lady observed, "Ye haven't been a slave for long."

"No."

"But ye don't look rich," the woman mumbled, shaking her head. "A bimbo, that's what ye look like, and certainly not from around here. What is ye story?"

"My business is my own," Kiethara replied shortly.

"Not any more, it's not. And ye better get used to it, too." the woman warned.

The lady finally stopped scrubbing Kiethara. She turned her around and used her plump fingers to brush through the giant knots in Kiethara's hair. When she was done, the woman took up her hair and piled it on top of her head, tying it there.

Kiethara's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Did her hair now resemble that of the normal girl she had spied on in Nikkoi?

The woman walked her back to the group of slaves. Desan, who had been looking frightened and lonely, brightened when he saw her walk up. She smiled back, hoping that he could not read the despair in her eyes.

They were once again unceremoniously stuffed back into the wretched cages they had been brought in, with no food or water. Kiethara internally kicked herself for not drinking any when she had been in the river washing. Foolish mistakes like that could get her killed.

Again, the nightmare marched on.

**CHAPTER 22**

**ELEGANT**

Sleep still evaded her, most likely due to the ever present adrenaline pumping through her veins. Besides her, Desan had fallen asleep hours ago. He looked even more innocent when he slept, something that she had not figured possible; his mouth hung open in a small _O_ , and his expression, at last, was peaceful. The peace she saw in him now eased her turmoil, but it had not erased her stress and fear completely. Maybe that was why she could not escape reality for a few hours like the others around her.

Outside, it was still very dark. The moon was out, but its light was interrupted by frequent clouds. She could not see any stars, which disappointed her more than it should have. That had been the only upside to not having branches over her head, but it seemed for tonight, she had lost that comfort as well.

In the distance, she thought she heard a voice call out, but she couldn't make out the words. Their group, not just including the slaves, was a large one. Another voice answered before it was silent except for the creak of the numerous wagons and carts, along with the muffled sound of horse hooves on grass.

The voices, however, had woken up Desan.

"Wha...?" he said groggily, pulling himself up.

"It's nothing, go back to sleep," she told him in a gentle voice. She really wanted him to get rid of those bags under his eyes.

Desan didn't listen to her. He rubbed his eyes and stretched out as much as he could. Behind them, a few other people had woken as well. As far as she could tell, Kiethara had counted two other girls around her age, one man, one woman, and four other boys.

"How long have I been out?" he asked.

"Only a few hours. It's still dark out, see?"

He followed her gaze out towards the darkened plains, which were now completely flat. The hills were long behind them, as well as Nikkoi.

"How long have you slept?" he asked with a frown.

"I didn't, actually," she admitted.

"Kiethara," he protested.

"I'm fine," she lied.

Desan mumbled something under his breath and they lapsed into silence.

"Do you know where they are taking us?" the woman behind Kiethara asked, speaking up for the first time. She was surprised that anyone besides Desan was talking to her, for she had come off as a bit mad when they had first put her in this cage...

"My guess is as good as yours," Kiethara replied. In all honesty, the woman's guess would probably have been ten times better than hers would have been.

"How many kingdoms are there on the east side?" one of the girls asked.

"Besides Nikkoi? I only know of two," the man replied.

"Does it really matter where we are being sent?" Desan grumbled. Kiethara smiled.

"Some kingdoms have weaker defenses," she snapped at him. "Some kingdoms use magic, some don't. Some just have nicer people and, if I'm blessed, I might see someone I know."

"Are any of us blessed?" the man asked with a humorless chuckle.

"My father would have never let this happen," the girl in the back sniffed. She looked to be around twelve.

"Oh? And where is your father now?" a boy called out.

"Dead," she snapped back.

"So how can you defend his strength if he's dead?" the boy asked.

"He died defending my mother's honor!" the girl sniffed again. "I grew up without a father!"

"Oh please," said the other girl. She was older than the whining girl, but younger than Kiethara. "You're just another selfish snob. Everybody here has been through much more than _you_."

"Says you!" the girl shot back.

"Raise your hand if both of your parents are dead," the older girl asked in a loud voice.

Everybody but the whining girl raised their hand. Even Kiethara, who felt wretched for lying. It was just so much easier this way.

This shut the younger girl up. The older girl made a smug sound, which caused Kiethara to shake her head in disgust. Foolish girls, fighting to prove themselves, fighting for the most pity, when they should be working together to find a way out of their pathetic situations.

Outside, where the sun was finally beginning to rise, a horse and his rider passed them, headed in the opposite direction. Then, a few minutes later, a small cart pushed by a burly man strode by. Could another kingdom really be that close?

Her guess proved to be correct.

First, a loud call echoed through the early morning. This time Kiethara could make it out. The man screamed at them to halt and all the carts and the wagons slowly rolled to a standstill. Besides her, Desan let out a small, fearful noise. Kiethara reached her hand through the bars and grasped his.

Another shout echoed and then an astonishingly loud clinking of metal broke the early morning silence. The wagons started moving again.

Her view was limited to see only what they had already traveled, but what she did see blew her mind and her sense clear away.

Everything was tinted gold by the rays of the rising sun. The white brick of the fifty foot wall made her cower. Compared to Nikkoi's wall, which barely made fifteen feet, this kingdom was its own world. They had to transverse over a bridge to reach the massive silver gate, a bridge that was made of superbly polished wooden planks that shone like the surface of a sparkling lake, the silver gate acting as the waterfall from which magnificence tumbled down around them. Kiethara knew of only a few trees in her forest that reached this height, none of which had trucks that could achieve this thickness, for she was sure three carriages could run comfortably side by side atop the mammoth wall. She trembled when cast into its shadow, yet there was nothing to be feared of this wall—for it did not seem like a menacing barrier as Nikkoi's wall had; no, somehow it seemed to stand as a proud welcome to travelers and enduring protection for citizens. This wall was made of peace, not of war

Numerous guards paced along the gate, wall, and bridge, each heavily armed with both sword and shield, some even strapped with a bow. These men were not positioned to intimidate, however, and, just as the wall, there presence was not ominous, but assuring. Some whistled a merry tune as they strode, others waved up at the drivers of the wagons. When they cast their eyes on the last wagon, her wagon, their expressions flickered to ones of pity, and one even shook his head in disgust.

And that was only the beginning.

As soon as they made their way through the momentous wall, they were cantering on beautiful cobblestone. The road was open and wide, nothing like the dark, narrow passages that she had become accustom to in her first kingdom. Lovely stone houses lined the road they were passing on. Most of them had the same golden hue as the outer wall did, with red tiles for their roofs, while other had walls of orange (or was it red?) with a brown tiled roof. Each was well kept, with curling vines traveling up the sides of the stone and potted flowers on the outside sill, underneath the clear, open windows. Kiethara's heart swelled in disbelief as parts of her imagination were seen to finally come into tangible proof right before her eyes. This had been what she had dreamed of when others spoke of magnificence, this was what she had expected kingdoms of grandeur to behold. As she was a fairy tale to them, this was a fairy tale to her, the true magic being the elegance omitting from something man made, not grown.

That was the perfect word to describe what had been created here. Elegance. She didn't dare to blink as they rode on. The houses alongside the road got larger and far grander as they rode further into the kingdom. The stands and markets were also elegant, only holding the most expensive stock to be sold, situated under richly woven tents. The people matched their surroundings like camouflage; the women were dripping in finery and the men were drowning in handsome robes.

On a small scale, this would be impressive, but what pushed this kingdom past all limits was its size. The road they were on continued without any indication that it would reach an end. Their surroundings only achieved even further refinement. Some of the homes around them grew to three stories, adorned with columns to support a balcony above. They crossed another street, and the road was suddenly entirely devoted to a market place, which intoxicated Kiethara with its swirling aromas and eye-catching sparkle. She saw and smelt bread rising under a smoky fire; she longed to stroke the roses that were gathered by the bundle in long, ravishing ribbons.

She suddenly wondered—why were they here? It did not make any sense. Hell had never been allowed to stumble into heaven; her dark nightmare had no place in this golden fantasy. These happy people strolling by were like celestial beings, their smiles and laughter sounds she had not heard in a very long time. It was unreal for her to witness such happiness. She and the rest of the slaves did not belong here, that was for certain.

Kiethara's head spun with each new thing she saw. What splendor! If only she wasn't looking at it through the bars of a cage. She pushed herself up to them as hard as she could, hoping she could break them, just so she could have even one moment to explore this alien world! Aaron had done the kingdoms no justice in his explanation on how the buildings looked, or how the people acted. Navadar had not embellished his details enough!

"Are you okay?" Desan asked, looking at her as though she were mad.

"No," she breathed, eyes sparkling.

He laughed.

They rode on and on, further into this bizarre dream of a world, until she had lost complete sense of direction. Only after about an hour did something happen.

The noise around them was increasing in volume rather quickly, while their speed, which had already been at a mighty slow pace, was reduced to a crawl. Throngs of people pushed their way around the wagons and carts. The houses had stopped a few roads back, devoting everything to tents and pavilions. Suddenly, the horses stopped, and from what she could see, they entered a giant square.

The center of the kingdom.

They made awfully slow progress in the crowd; Kiethara was even unsure if they were still traveling over cobblestone, it was so packed. Eventually, when she estimated they had reached the halfway point, the procession turned to the left, and the back of the wagon finally faced everything in the square.

She gasped.

The center of the square played home to a gigantic, golden statue. But this statue really was gold, not just tinted by the sun. It towered over everything that surrounded it, casting a long shadow to the west.

"Redawn," someone breathed behind her. She hardly heard them.

The statue consisted of three people, all of them facing out, so their backs were pressed together. The first was a woman. Her beauty was as breathtaking as it was fierce. Her hair came down to her chin at a sharp ankle while her tunic flowed to her ankles. She held a bow in her hands, with it pressed against her left hip, her right hand pulling back on an arrow that had been put into place.

The second figure was that of a man. He wore a tunic that fell to his knees. He, too, was beautiful, with long locks falling over eyes that looked determined, even though they were made of gold. He held a sword in his right hand, with his left clenched into a fist.

The last figure was also a man. He was...beautiful, but in a different way than the other two. It was as though the sculptors had purposely tried to make his beauty ugly; a scowl was etched into his strong features, and he himself carried no weapon. His arms were crossed against his tunic.

The details etched into the precious metal were unbelievable. This work of the artist must have taken years, decades, even, to crest something as extravagant as that. Even with magic, this task was no small feat. But this kingdom didn't use magic.

This was the kingdom of Redawn.

Oh, when he had told her about Redawn, she had wanted nothing more than to follow him out of the forest to see it. It was a marvelous place, just as he had promised, just as he had tried to describe to her. In fact, it was too marvelous.

There was no possible way she could find Navadar in all of this madness. There were too many people, there was too much space, and there were no promises. She had given up on hope a long time ago.

The wagon stopped again, but this time it remained where it was, in one of the far corners of the oversized market place. They had a good view of the rest of the square from here. To her surprise, not a lot of people stopped to goggle at the pack of dirty slaves. Was it a sight they were used to, or one that they did not wish to see?

"Amazing," Desan said, a bit too simply.

"That is Kika, Lince, and Narco, the—"

"The founders of Redawn, from the legend," Kiethara finished.

"You've heard the myth?" the man behind her asked.

"Myth? I thought it was true?"

"That's what the people of Redawn say. They can't prove that's its true, though." His tone told her he was not one who believed.

"Legend?" Desan asked excitedly.

"Want to hear?" she asked him, smiling.

"Yes!"

Kiethara opened her mouth to begin the enthralling tale, worrying that she might not get it right, but she stopped short when two men appeared before her cage. She turned to face them warily.

"Come on, luv," the man to the right said with a grin, unlocking her cage and pulling her out.

Her bare feet made a soft smack against the cobblestone. Her knees almost buckled as she straightened up, legs wobbling. Her tired mind found it humorous that she would have to get used to walking again.

The man who held her led her around the wagon until they were facing a wooden platform that had been raised a good few feet off the ground. A stairwell had been attached to the right side. Behind it was a building that was not nearly as nice as any of the others that she had seen so far, yet it still outshone anything that Nikkoi had to offer. It was all wood, no stone, and it gave the appearance of being rather...empty. There was no sign of life around it, as though it gave off a bubble that did not allow the hustle and bustle of the kingdom folk to come near it.

The man opened the door and pushed her in. It was dark inside, and surprisingly musty. She stumbled forward, the wooden floor littered with strands of hay. What was this place?

Behind her she heard more footsteps, and then the room was suddenly light. Someone must have lit a torch, but the extra luminosity did the room no good. It was wood and hay, nothing more. And so empty, compared to the magnitude of people just beyond its walls. The thought depressed her a bit.

Desan stumbled into her then, sending both of them to the floor.

"Watch it there, mate!" one of the men called, and they both started howling in laughter.

"Stop standing there and move, ye fools!" a sharp voice called out. Kiethara recognized it to be the lady who had washed her. The rest of the slaves were being led into the room, most of them looking the way she felt. Kiethara pulled herself off the wood floor with a moan.

"Sorry!" Desan squeaked.

"Don't worry about it," she told him with a forced smile. More slaves continued into the room. More than she remembered...had there been another wagon full of them?

"So rude!" the younger, whining girl huffed as she was pushed next to them.

"Do you want them to fetch you a gown and some warm chocolate, little miss?" the other girl asked sarcastically.

"No, I want you to shut your mouth, ijit!" the girl hissed back.

That comment seemed to finally push the other girl over the edge. Not seeming to care that her hands were tied behind her back, the girl threw herself at the other. Both of them were sent to the floor with a horribly loud thud. Screams erupted from all around, some of them encouraging, and then a roar issued from the man who had been watching them. He ran forward in an attempt to separate the two girls, who had taken to biting and kicking themselves as they rolled on the floor. Another woman burst back into the room, letting loose a long stream of words in an unfamiliar language. Even to Kiethara, who hardly understood anything in this world, it came off as something not very nice.

It took quite a while to separate the two surprisingly vicious girls. When they were finally torn apart they were separated to opposite sides of the room, where they were further bound and gagged. Kiethara thought that was punishment enough, but each girl received a round of kicks as further reprimand. Kiethara felt bad at the relief coursing through her body that it, for once, had not been her receiving the extra punishment.

"Now," said one of the women who had come to help. Kiethara recognized her from her wash in the river. "If anyone thinks they can get away with something like that, they better think twice. Ye will get more than a beating, I promise ye that.

"We are going to get started here very soon. I want ye all on yer best behavior. That means no screams, no tears, and no comments. Keep anything to yerself."

She paused to glare at each and every one of them. Her gaze seemed to linger a little longer on Kiethara.

"Boys will go first, then men. After that will be the girls, followed by the women. I'm going around asking ye some questions, so have yer answers ready."

The woman started on the other side of the room. As soon as she finished with the first boy, he was sent out of the room. Alarmed, Kiethara turned to Desan.

He looked back at her with wide eyes, which were filled with naked panic.

"It's going to be okay," she promised him, swallowing her own fear.

"I won't ever see you again."

He did not state it as a question, he stated it as a fact; a very cold and bitter fact that she knew to be true. No, there had never been any hope, but she still wanted to pretend there was another option.

"I don't know what I would have done without you," Kiethara told him. The spunk in her voice might have come off as a bit false, but Desan gave her a watery smile anyway.

"No tears," she said quickly. "No matter what, you have to stay strong. I don't care what fool you get sold to. You hear me?"

He nodded.

"Good."

"Thank you," he said after a minute. She nudged him with her newly scrubbed foot.

"No problem."

They were silent for a moment. Really, it was cruel how fast you could gain someone as a friend, when you could lose them even faster. If she was smart, she should make a vow never to care for anything again. That way, it wouldn't hurt as much.

Unable to look at Desan now, she turned her head away from him. What would he say if she broke down in front of him, after she had just ordered him to stay strong?

The woman came up to him and started asking him questions. Kiethara didn't listen; she couldn't. Desan got up, but Kiethara could still not look at him.

"B-Bye," he stuttered. She could hear him choking back tears and she could not blame him. He was only a nine year old boy, about to be sold to someone who would have complete and utter control over him. A nine year old boy who had made a friend who wouldn't even tell him goodbye because it was just too painful for her to handle.

Desan could not linger, he could not ask her why, for the lady was soon pushing him out the door. Kiethara, disgusted with herself, looked up at last with an apology etched all over her face, but she was too late.

He was gone, and it was too late for regrets.

A loud voice echoed outside, followed by numerous calls. Kiethara's stomach dropped at the sound of the crowd. Who would she be sold to? Fear bubbled in her chest as more and more people were shoved out the door.

"Name?" a voice asked, making her jump clear out of her skin.

"Kiethara," she told the woman grudgingly.

"Ah, the feisty one. Be prepared to take more baths like that, dearie," the woman told her. Kiethara scowled.

"Age?"

"I don't know," Kiethara said bluntly, sticking her chin out.

Being slapped across the face was not something Kiethara would ever get used to. Her eyes watered and she tasted blood in her mouth.

"Age?" the woman repeated calmly.

"Fifteen," Kiethara wheezed.

"Virgin?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me this question?!" Kiethara yelled in frustration. Everyone went quiet around her. Someone whispered the word _insane._

"Ye...do know what it means?" the lady asked with a mocking smile.

"Yes!" Kiethara said in an exasperated tone. It had been a long and painful conversation with Aaron. The memory still made her cheeks flame.

"Well, most men prefer a...clean woman, if ye understand what I'm saying," the woman explained with a nasty smirk. "So answer me question."

"Yes."

"Skills?"

"I don't have any," Kiethara replied quickly. Maybe they would let her go.

"I didn't think so. That's why I left yer bracelets on, it will sell ye quicker. I don't know what we're going to do about that scar, though," the woman said, glaring at her as though it were her fault.

"My bad," she said sarcastically, glaring back.

"All right, follow the other girls," she ordered. Kiethara looked up to see three girls lined up by the door. Two of them had been the ones who had been fighting, both sporting nasty bruises.

Kiethara stood up, blinking as a wave of dizziness made her sway. Her lack of...well, everything, was catching up to her. She went to stand behind them, her heart racing painfully. She looked around for an escape, but there was none. With sudden inspiration, she pulled the tie out of her hair and it fell down her back. Perhaps if she didn't look like a normal girl, no one would buy her.

The woman came up and opened the door, beckoning them through. They all filed through without a word, Kiethara following suit with a sickening feeling as she stepped out into the morning sun.

The stage was directly to the right of them. A man stood on the stage already, but it was obvious he was not a slave, for he wore nice robes and a bright smile. In front of the stage was an enormous gathering of people, all who were focused on the smiling man.

It was the size of the crowd that made her panic—Kiethara lost her sense and took off past the girls in one last frenzied attempt to get away. The surrounding women were fast, though, and they all pounced to grab a part of her and drag her back into the line.

"We need to sell her first before she unsettles the lot!" the woman shouted up at the stage. The man nodded.

Kiethara was dragged forward, her heels trying to find purchase against the ground. No, this was not going to be the end! A fresh wave of determination took over her, supplemented by panic and fear. Ignoring all feelings of fatigue, she thrashed ferociously.

The women grunted as they wrestled with her all the way to the stage. She didn't know how, but one of the women managed to grapple her up the stairs and onto the stage, so now their struggle was being witnessed by thousands of people.

"As you can see, this one hear is a rather feisty young girl," the auctioneer boomed. "Fifteen years of age, brown hair, and pretty blue eyes. She's a special one, too, look! She comes with her own two golden bracelets! Nice green crystals in 'em, fine specimens..."

Kiethara stopped listening to the man, fraught with her task of attempting to pull herself free. She looked up at the overwhelming crowd. Something was calling her eyes to look, to see an escape...

And there she saw it.

What had caught her attention at first was the beautiful buckskinned horse that was strolling lazily through the square. On top of the horse was a girl brimming with elegance, her dirty blond hair held up in a bun, sparkling with pins in a very surreal way.

This was not what made her heart stop, though.

It was the young man striding next to them. Her eye was immediately drawn to the head of shaggy blond hair, just as golden as his surroundings were, mimicking their tone to perfection. His white shirt and brown trousers flowed with him as he walked, a walk that even came off as familiar to her.

"N-Navadar?" she stuttered in disbelief. She stopped thrashing.

As soon as the name was out of her mouth, the person besides the horse looked up, just as the girl on the horse gestured something. Even through the sea of people she found herself looking directly into green eyes. Green eyes that widened in horror.

"Let the bidding begin!" the auctioneer cried, desperately trying to regain the attention of the audience, whom had been watching her with amused expressions.

"Five pieces o' gold!" one man cried out.

Kiethara continued to stare back. He stopped short, so abruptly that the girl above him almost lost her balance.

"Going once, going twice..." the auctioneer warned.

"Ten pieces of gold!" Navadar called out. The girl on the horse gasped.

"Going one—"

"Fifteen!" the other man screamed.

"Thirty!" Navadar yelled back.

"Going once, going twice, SOLD! To the man with the horse and the lady! Come, collect your prize!"

The bindings on Kiethara's hands disappeared. Tired, dehydrated, injured, and sure she was hallucinating, she stumbled off the stage and into the crowd.

The people were impatient with her. They pushed her to the side of the throng, not happy to be interrupted as they continued to watch the stage. She noticed it was mostly men in the crowd, though several well clothed women stood out with their necks craned. Young children pointed at her, but Kiethara averted her eyes, focusing on not tripping as her vision blurred periodically.

He was fighting through the crowd, too. She stumbled towards the houses, were the crowd thinned slightly. He himself was weaving expertly through the people, almost as though he was passing right through the mass of bodies, and then he reached her in what seemed matter of seconds.

" _What the blazes are you doing here?!_ " Navadar asked her in a hysterical tone, taking her by the tops of her arms and pulling her aside from the crowd. " _What are you doing in Redawn, being sold as a slave?!_ "

"N-Navadar?" she asked in a whisper. It really was him, oh!

" _Are you insane?! Have you lost your mind?! The forest is miles from here! I thought you said you couldn't leave!_ "

"I-I didn't! Not w-willingly," she stuttered.

"What?" Navadar asked, staring. He looked utterly bewildered. "You mean...Gandador?"

"It wasn't this time, actually," she said, shaking her head.

"Then who...?"

"Navadar, I have other enemies than Gandador," she smiled faintly. "How do you think I got this?"

Kiethara held out her right arm, where a light pink scar trailed down the length of it. Navadar stared at it in shock.

"That? Well, you wouldn't really tell me much about it. You said Gandador's servant did that, or something," he reminded her.

"Oh, yes, you're right..." she sighed, a bit confused.

"So that's who kidnapped you?" he asked.

"No, it was four men, Navadar. They couldn't use magic, but they had this crystal and it took away all my power...!" she explained quickly, her voice rising in panic. She needed him to know, so he could watch for their return...

"Four men?" he repeated. She nodded.

"They could drain you of your power?" he asked quietly. She tried to nod again, but her head would not work. She looked at him and blinked.

"Kiethara, when was the last time you've slept? Or eaten?"

"I...don't remember," she slurred.

"Kiethara—"

"NAVADAR!" a shrill voice called out.

Kiethara jumped, raising her head to see the girl on the horse, looking at them with a very annoyed expression.

"Coming, Trinnia!" he called back.

"Who's Trinnia?" she asked. He ignored her.

"Can you walk?" he asked in a doubtful tone.

"Of course I can walk," she said, tripping forward. He sighed.

They made their way towards the horse together, Navadar keeping one hand on her arm, as though he expected her to collapse on him. She was slightly offended—she wasn't weak—but her thoughts were spiraling too much in confusion to do anything about it.

"What are you doing?" the girl demanded as they approached. "Why, in the king's name, did you buy a slave? Your father will be furious!"

"Trinnia, this is Kiethara. Kiethara, meet Trinnia." Navadar said loudly, shooting the girl an annoyed look.

"H-hello," Kiethara stammered.

"Some slave, I might add. She doesn't even look like she'd be any help! Those bracelets look valuable, though." Trinnia's brown eyes glinted greedily as she stared at them.

"I'd like to see you try to take them!" Kiethara snapped. Who did this pathetic weasel think she was?

"Don't you dare talk to me like that, you good for nothing—"

"Let's go, Trinnia," Navadar interrupted. He took the horses reins and gave them a tug, tightening his grip on Kiethara before starting down the busy road.

They traveled deeper into Redawn. If possible, the kingdom seemed to grow even more exquisite then she had seen on the trip to the square. Now, she really was looking at Redawn without the bars of a cage in her way. Yet she could not appreciate her surroundings as much as she desired too. All she could focus on was her fight against her swimming head, throbbing legs, and heavy eyes. Navadar was helping her as much as he could. Twice he stopped her from walking straight into a cart and even more times did he have to maneuver her away from the rampant crowd. He looked down at her with pained eyes and an apologetic expression, and every time she saw that she tried to pick her shoulders up a little more.

By the time they approached a magnificent, superlative house, she was no longer able to keep her eyes open for more than a fraction. Instead, she let Navadar do all the steering. What she did manage to get a glimpse of was white brick and three stories of grandiosity. Kiethara should have known that Navadar lived in a small mansion.

Navadar helped Trinnia off the horse, and then he began walking towards the house, tugging Kiethara along.

"Where are you taking her?" she asked indigently.

"My room," he answered.

"Scandalous," she muttered.

He ignored her. He opened the door and gently pulled her through it, closing it behind them. She desperately tried to keep her eyes open so she could see what his home looked like.

As soon as the door clicked shut, however, Navadar swept her up into his arms. She fell limp against his chest, every ounce of fight she had left in her diminished. Slowly, he walked her up a flight of stairs, kicking a door open.

"I'm so sorry," Navadar said as he laid her down on something very soft. Something she had never felt before. She could not open her eyes.

Navadar threw something warm and heavy over her.

"Nav..." she mumbled.

"No, Kiethara. Don't talk. Don't worry. I'll take care of it. Sleep," he ordered.

She sighed.

"Kiethara?"

"Hmm?" she murmured, rolling her head towards her name.

"I love you."

The words gave her a sudden strength. She opened her eyes, fatigue forgotten for just a moment, and parted her lips.

"I love you as well," she managed.

Her vision blurred, flickered, and then went black, along with her consciousness.

**CHAPTER 23**

**DINNER**

Kiethara let out a soft moan, rolling her head to the side. She flexed her fingers; one arm lying softly over her head and the other lay gently over her stomach. With her lower arm, she clenched soft, warm fabric in her hand, reminding her of the blanket she used to own before the fire. That had probably been the last time she had ever felt as comfortable as she did now. She almost felt like she was floating in a cloud, with the warm sun trained onto her face.

Slowly, the previous events came to her. She was lying in Navadar's bed, in Navadar's house, in the kingdom of Redawn. Warmth that had nothing to do with the toasty bedcovers spread through her.

She was safe.

She did not know what was more unreal—her situation now or what her situation had been over the past few days. One was as horrid in memory as it had been in experience, details that she was not eager to relive. She had figured Gandador to be cruel—a title he still held—but almost everyone else she had met so far came mighty close. The people of Redawn did not seem too bad, besides that girl Trinnia, and Desan had been a wonderful person to her. But the way she had treated him in the end, well, maybe she deserved that title as well.

Kiethara opened her eyes. Sunlight streamed in from the two windows behind her, into a very spacious room. Besides the bed, there was an ornamentally carved wardrobe and a small desk, on whose surface was a pile of books and a small piece of mirror.

She pulled herself up out of the bed, stretching the kinks out of her joints with a yawn. How could she still be tired? Idly, she wandered around the room, running her finger over the polished wood and intricate details. She wandered over to the desk. Did she really want to see? She didn't know what to expect, and that scared her more than anything. How much could she have changed? She bit her lip and then gave in to her curiosity.

Kiethara picked up the piece of mirror.

Perhaps the most alarming thing that first met the eye was her bruised cheek. Other than that, to her shock and relief, she couldn't find a tremendous change to her features. Her lip was split a bit, and her skin was a little more pale than usual, but that was the extent of the damage. She let out a breath she had not realized she was holding in and smiled.

She placed the mirror back on the desk and padded towards the far window. She ran her finger down the curtain before drawing it aside, and then gasped at the view that met her eyes.

How she had not seen it yesterday, she did not understand, but perhaps that was a blessing. If she had seen one more thing yesterday that was as mind-blowing as this scene was, just as everything else in this kingdom was, she would have fainted. It was the sea, and it stretched out to her right with no boundaries, the only thing separating them being a few houses and a dock. It shimmered, flashing golden light just as a jewel in the sun, which was low in the western sky. It stood quite still, the waters so calm. Many ships could be seen indolently sailing over the smooth surface and, just as many were bound to the dock, rocking in the gentle swells. It was astounding, like a forest made out of water.

She didn't know how long she stood there, drenched in the light pouring in from the window, gazing at the sparkling masterpiece. After a while, though, she got the impression that she was being watched.

Navadar was standing in the doorway, leaning against its frame. He smiled when she looked up, shutting the door behind him and striding forward.

"Kiethara," he said almost breathlessly, rounding the bed.

"Navadar!" she replied in relief. The house had been so quiet she had feared that no one had been home. Seeing him reminded her of all her worries and they burst from her mouth before she could stop them.

"I need to get back to the forest! I was taken, Navadar, and all of my magic is gone. Gandador could be burning the place down while I sit here! I need to go now, to fight him off—"

He put two fingers over her lips to stop the flow of words.

"Kiethara," he sighed. "You're in no state to go anywhere."

She opened her mouth to reply, but he just shook his head, pressing his fingers harder on her lips.

"Let me talk. I've cleared everything with my father. He knows I have been traveling to the forest. I told him that we were good friends, and that you were the daughter of the guardian," he said with a smile. "This is true, so I didn't find it necessary to bother him with the whole story."

"Thank you," she said when he removed his fingers. "But I still need to get back to the forest."

"Not in your condition," he said sternly.

"What condition?" she demanded.

"You just woke up, for one," Navadar said gently, leading her back to the bed. "A few hours ago, I came in and you had a fever."

Kiethara frowned. It had been years since she had had a fever. Luckily, it had gone away after just two weeks.

Navadar put a hand over her forehead.

"However, it doesn't seem to be too bad right now..."

"Great! Let's go!" she stressed.

"The next step is to get some food in you. Come, we're expected for dinner," he said, ignoring her.

"We?" she repeated.

"Yes," he sighed. "It took a while, but my father now considers you our guest. Trinnia will be attending as well, and I've told her you're not a slave."

"I don't think she likes me very much, regardless," Kiethara pointed out.

"Trinnia has her own way of looking at things," he said in a hard voice. "Don't let it upset you."

Kiethara bit her lip. She was anxious to learn more about this Trinnia. She had questions about her bouncing around in her head. Why was she, too, coming to dinner? Why had she been riding on Navadar's horse, and why did she seem to be so entwined in his life? Was she his sister? He had never mentioned a sister. Or was she something more?

"Let's go," Navadar said, helping her off the bed.

Together they walked through the hallway and down the stairs. Nervous, she pulled her hair back up into a bun. Now fully awake, she could truly take in the fine finishing and beautiful artwork that embellished the house. One thing was for sure, Navadar and his family were nowhere near poverty.

Navadar gestured to a door before opening it for her.

Timidly, she walked into the room.

It was a very well sized room, but it had no windows. A large fireplace loomed in the center of the wall, with flames smoldering inside. Innumerable candles were scattered around the room as well, casting more than enough light. A large oak table took up most of the room, surrounded by six chairs. Two of which were not empty.

At the head of the table sat a very fine looking man. His skin was the same tone as Navadar's, one that indicated he was only in the sun as much as he wanted to be, but his hair was dark. A braided beard dangled from his chin and light brown eyes twinkled under heavy brows. A crooked grin lit up his features, almost making it impossible to feel uncomfortable in his presence. From what she had heard from Navadar, this was certainly not the man she had been expecting.

Trinnia sat to his right, chin up and jaw taunt. Her hair was curled up into a bun, but with one perfect blond curl draped elegantly along the nape of her heck. She wore a different dress than she had been wearing before, this one a royal blue and adorned with a good deal of lace.

Navadar's father stood as they entered the room and bowed his head.

"Kiethara, this is my father, Raynock. Father, this is Kiethara," Navadar introduced.

"It's a pleasure, Kiethara. Navadar has told me much about you," Raynock said in a pleasant tone. But Kiethara picked something up something else in his eyes, something that almost seemed to be mocking her. Or calculating.

"Thank you for welcoming me graciously into your home," she replied readily. Oh, did she owe Aaron for teaching her the rules of society. Had he considered that she would be in this situation one day?

"Not at all," he said. "Please, sit."

Navadar walked forward and pulled out her chair, second from the head of the table. She sat down carefully, watching as he took the chair next to her, closest to his Father and across from Trinnia.

This... _stiff_ and formal atmosphere was making her squirm in her seat. This was how they ate their meals? She preferred her way so much more to this rigid setting. Just to grab an apple off a tree, to throw herself into the grass, and eat at her own leisurely pace...

Raynock clapped his hands, and immediately two men and one woman bustled in.

"First course shall do, I think," he told them.

The woman nodded, and then the group left. Raynock turned to Kiethara.

"I have no mind to what you indulge in at your own home, but I can assure you that you will not be disappointed by the feast I shall provide."

"I am certain it will be much better than my usual," she assured him.

"What do you eat in the forest, er... _Kiethara_ ," Trinnia asked, pronouncing her name with a sneer.

"Whatever I can grow," she told them.

"Ah, so your father is a farmer?" Raynock asked. She found this amusing.

"Not exactly," she laughed.

"Then what, may I ask?"

He wanted to know what her father did? He murdered and tortured, schemed and plotted, and came up with ridiculous plots day by day on how to obtain the guardian's power for himself. That was what he did. She didn't think that would count as appropriate dinner conversation, though.

"He's a scholar," she lied quickly, trying to remember some of the professions Aaron had told her about. "He enjoys making his point...very clear."

"That doesn't make any sense!" Trinnia declared. "Then who grows your food?"

Kiethara shot Navadar a confused glance. He sighed.

"Forgive us, we are not familiar with your ways," he said. His formal tone surprised her. It sounded nothing like him.

"Her ways?" Trinnia repeated.

"Her family uses magic, Trinnia," he explained.

Trinnia's eyes budged, and then she muttered something under her breath that sounded very much like the word "scandalous." Was that what she was now? Kiethara almost preferred "forest-girl."

In bustled who Kiethara now figured to be slaves. For some reason, that sparked an intense feeling of rage inside her. She should have known that a house of this size, with such a large income, would have slaves, but it still felt wrong to her. Her past experiences had taught her everything she had needed to know about the treatment of slaves. She turned to them with an expression of pity.

They took no notice of her as they set down goblets and dishes on the table. In fact, from what she could see of their bowed faces, they appeared to be...content. Healthy and well fed, too.

She turned to look at what had been set before her. A glass bowl and a silver goblet; the bowl filled with a rich substance that gave off a wonderful odor, while the goblet held a deep, dark liquid. Nothing looked familiar.

"What are you doing in Redawn, then, if you don't use magic? A queer choice out of all the kingdoms," Trinnia continued, unable to contain herself.

"I was in Nikkoi, first," she replied, wondering if that was the best explanation.

"Really?" Raynock asked, taking a spoonful of the alien substance. "With your father, I presume?"

"Oh, yes," Kiethara lied. "But we got separated in Nikkoi, and that was when I was taken by a group who figured me a slave!"

Raynock averted his eyes and mumbled something she did not catch. Trinnia seemed to have heard it, though, for she laughed aloud.

So maybe she did look like a slave to these people. Obviously, this was not the world for her. She could see she did not belong here. And if she did not belong here, neither did she belong in Navadar's life. She bit her lip hard to stop it from trembling and continued to look down at the matter in front of her.

"Do you need me to track down your father for you?" Raynock offered, recovering himself.

"No," she replied, a bit too quickly. "I mean, I'm sure he'll catch up with me. He always does."

"You talk as though this happens frequently," he noted.

"Well, the forest attracts much trouble," Kiethara sighed.

"You know, magic is not permitted in this kingdom," Trinnia said forcefully, her eyes glinting dangerously. "The king would not approve."

"I'm sure Miss Kiethara will not use any magic," Raynock said, with a hard glance at Navadar.

"Of course not," Kiethara said quickly. "I'm under your roof and, thus, your rules."

Trinnia did not respond, but picked up her spoon and began eating what was in her bowl. The other two followed her example, but Kiethara was hesitant. It smelled nice, but still...

Well, whatever was in the goblet did not have a smell. Actually, it looked as though it could be juice, from a fruit. She picked it up and took a sip.

Oh!

She coughed, bringing her hand quickly to her mouth to cover what she had spit out. She kept it pressed to her lips, blinking rapidly as her eyes watered. That was certainly not juice. It burned her throat!

She looked up to see that everyone was staring at her.

"Is there something wrong?" Raynock asked.

"No, no. It's just that I've never had..." Kiethara trailed off, unable to finish her sentence.

"Wine?" Trinnia finished for her. "You've never had wine before?!"

Kiethara shook her head.

Trinnia muttered under her breath again before taking a sip from her own goblet.

"What do you have in the forest?" Raynock asked.

"Much more and much less," Kiethara explained. "The forest has natural beauty, yet you have man-made beauty here in this kingdom. Our resources consist of that which we can get from it. For example, we do not have any...wine, or make any bread. We certainly have fewer rules, less regulations, and far less company. Still, nothing can equal it."

"Sounds lovely," he commented.

The slaves came back in quietly, so quietly that she almost did not notice.

"Dinner is ready, sir."

"Excellent. Bring it forth," Raynock exclaimed, clapping his hands.

They cleared all the dishes in front of the besides the goblets and then left the room. They were back in what seemed like no time at all, setting down a dozen or so dishes on the table before them. Gleaming golden plates were laid directly before each of them, so clean that Kiethara could see her reflection. A fresh plate of fruit was placed just before her, making her mouth water. Other laden serving dishes were placed around them, most of the unfamiliar, but a few of them she recognized.

Potatoes that seemed to be mashed and creamed, seasoned vegetables that came in all size and variety, and freshly baked bread by the loaf. The main dish was something she had never seen nor smelt before, but it gave her stomach an uneasy feeling.

"I hope everything is to your liking. The roasted deer was caught by yours truly," he said with a proud smile.

Kiethara's stomach dropped. Deer? Roasted deer? She suddenly remembered a conversation she had had with Navadar in the forest, when he had told her that he ate animals. It seemed he had not been lying.

Raynock began to serve Trinnia, and Navadar turned to her with a plate of fruit in his hands.

"Thank you," she whispered in relief as he piled it onto her plate. He winked at her.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Anything but the meat," she whispered. He chuckled.

"You speak so highly of the forest, I'm sure you're dying to get back," Trinnia said after they had all been served. Her tone suggested that she was dying for the same thing. What on earth had she done to make this girl hate her so much?

"I'm planning on setting out as soon as I can. Perhaps tonight—"

"Absolutely not," Navadar interrupted. "You're not taking off tonight, even if you were in good health. It's far too dangerous."

"I agree," Raynock said. "We should wait until we hear word of your father. What was his name again?"

"Aaron," she answered quickly.

"Mm," he said through a mouth full. "I'll keep my ear open."

It was silent for a moment. Kiethara took advantage and speared a piece of pineapple with her fork. Her mouth watered as she quickly pushed it through her lips.

She almost groaned aloud. It tasted so sweet, so juicy, that she could hardly stand it. As soon as the food hit her stomach, a sharp pain shot through her abdomen and a low rumble issued from her stomach. She was hungrier than she had ever been in her life. She tried to subtly shove the food down her throat, not pausing for a breath.

"Did you hear what happened to the twins today?" Trinnia asked, as though she could not stand the silence.

"Oh, yes," Raynock commented. "That man will be hanged, I'm sure of it."

"As he should be! Pursuing the king's own daughters in public like that, it's disgusting!" she exclaimed.

Kiethara blinked, utterly perplexed as to what they were talking about.

"The prince was furious as well," Navadar added.

Ah. They must be speaking of their kingdom. Kiethara continued to eat, listening contentedly as they gossiped. For some reason the senseless babble was enthralling. Navadar shot several looks at her, most of them apologetic.

"It's getting late," Trinnia noted after an hour.

"Mm, yes," Raynock said. "I should take you home now."

Trinnia stood, as did Navadar and Raynock. Kiethara, a little late, pulled herself up as well.

"Navadar," Raynock said. "Please wait with Miss Kiethara, will you?"

"Of course," he replied.

The three of them walked out of the dining room and into the parlor, with Kiethara trailing them from behind. She had never felt so lost before, not even when she had been wandering around in Nikkoi. There was just so much that she did not know. Aaron's lessons now seemed incredibly basic. He had failed to describe how every move was directed by some form of culture.

They walked out onto the porch, into the warm rays of sun.

"I'll be back in an hour or two, Navadar," Raynock told him. It almost sounded like a warning.

Raynock and Trinnia hooked arms and then they strolled down the porch steps and into the crowded street, finally leaving Kiethara alone with the one person who she wanted to be with the most.

**CHAPTER 24**

**WEAK**

Navadar let out a breath of relief as they rounded the corner and strolled out of sight. His formal manner vanished as completely as they did and the spark she had missed in his eyes was suddenly there again. He turned towards her with a lazy grin stretched across his face.

"That went better than I expected," he told her. Kiethara found herself smiling in relief as well.

"That was much too formal! Is it like that every day?" she asked.

"And more," he said with a grimace. "It's unbearable. That's why I love when I can escape to the forest..."

"I don't blame you," she replied fervently. "It's like being in a cage! I mean, the forest can be boring..."

"Boring?! Nonsense!" Navadar exclaimed with a laugh. She laughed with him.

Her laugh trailed off when she thought further of the forest and an unexpected wave of home-sickness overtook her. It reminded her of her utmost importance, the danger that lurked if she fell on accomplishing that responsibility.

She could feel Navadar's eyes on her face, but she did not look up at him. Instead, she turned and walked over to the porch railing that faced the sea. The sight of the water made her throat burn with thirst, but she ignored it, once again mesmerized by the beauty of the sun's golden rays dancing along its surface. It seemed that everything in Redawn was golden at one point or another.

She watched it for a long minute; the soft waves lulling, practically making her eyes droop.

Kiethara pulled herself up on the rail and swung one of her legs up, placing her bare foot on the cool wood, knee bent, while allowing the other to lie straight, toes barely touching the wall of the house. She laid her head back against the beam.

Navadar walked over and leaned his back against the rail, as well as her legs.

"Your father is a very lively man," Kiethara noted, breaking the silence.

"Yes," he agreed. "Although some people would call it arrogance."

"He didn't seem arrogant to me," she said, surprised.

"No, he was more humored with you than anything else," he replied in a slightly bitter tone.

"Humored with me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, Kiethara," Navadar said. "People here—or in any kingdom, really—find that the faults of others are the most entertaining forms of gossip. It's cruel, and it makes them appeared to be filled with selfishness and conceit. Take a look at yourself, and the fact that you have grown up practically alone in that forest, and then compare the good heart you have managed to find to the heart of someone from here, who has had righteous values sitting in front of them on a silver platter, ready for the taking, all of their lives. Perhaps it is the lack of suffering, more than anything else, which has driven us to such extremes.

"I can't say that for everyone out here, though. There are some truly great people in these kingdoms to; for example, just look at our king. Most of us have just been brought up by strict rules of society and, just as we are punished when we break them, we punish outsiders who don't 'follow the norm' because we have been forced to."

Kiethara was silent as she absorbed this in. Musing, she reached behind her and undid the bun on the back of her head, which was making her head sore. Her locks tumbled down around her. She shook them out, looking up to see that Navadar was watching her.

"I'm sure there is some suffering here as well," she said softly.

"Oh, there is, don't get me wrong. Everyone has lost someone here or there. Sometimes people take the pain of loss out on others"—he grimaced—"but not often. We're not barbarians. We care and love for one another just as you love your forest. It's only people like Trinnia, who have everything they want and more, that act with such vanity. And unfortunately, those are the people I am constantly surrounded by."

Kiethara nodded. The conversation made her remember something else that had been troubling her since dinner. Would it be rude of her to ask him?

"Navadar," she began tentatively. "Why do you have slaves?"

"What?" he asked in confusion.

"At dinner, the two men, and the woman..."

"Oh!" he said, and laughed. "Kiethara, those aren't slaves, they're servants."

"Servants?"

"Yes. We pay them and treat them well. Don't fret."

She nodded, relieved. Of course Navadar wouldn't keep slaves. She shouldn't have doubted him.

"Kiethara," he said in a suddenly soft tone. "You still haven't explained to me what happened."

She bit her lip, turning back to the dazzling sight of the sea. Surprising herself, she unexpectedly found herself not wanting to tell him what she had gone through, to relive it. It was a foolish feeling, really; what was done was done. Talking about it was a laughable concept compared to the challenge it had been to her. Why was it hard? She did not want to appear as some weak, defenseless little girl who had been pushed around for a week or two, especially to Navadar.

"Kiethara," he repeated gently. She knew once he had spoken her name with such a caring, concerned tone, that she had no choice but to unwind to him her tale.

Careful to keep her eyes on the sea, she took a deep breath and began.

"I woke up one morning and there were four men surrounding me," she started. "They had this necklace, this jewel, which seemed to drain me of my magic and render me incapacitated. It was the single most horrid thing I have ever felt"—she shuddered—"and before I knew what was happening, they knocked me unconscious."

Kiethara continued with her tale, stuttering as she tried to edit and downplay as much as she could. She figured Navadar could tell what she was doing at some points, for his back would tense against her legs throughout the story.

When she finished, she remained quiet. She kept her gaze fixed on the image in front of her, not seeing it, gnawing on her lip nervously.

Warm, strong fingers grabbed her chin and pulled it forwards, towards him. Navadar's brow furrowed in concentration as he scrutinized her face. Whatever he saw did not seem to satisfy him; in fact, his expression seemed a bit heated.

"Kiethara," Navadar asked in his stern tone. "Did they do anything to you?"

On, my. No, he could not have just asked her that question. She turned to him with wide eyes, too shocked to feel awkward.

"N-no!" she stuttered after a moment.

"Kiethara," he said, angry now.

"Well, what do you mean?" she asked. Feigning ignorance was the only escape she could think.

"You know perfectly well what I mean," he growled. He no longer had his back on her legs. Instead, he turned to face her. The hold on her chin was starting to hurt. "I want to know if those flee-bitten bastards raped you."

"No, Navadar," she said fiercely, looking him straight in the eye. "Nothing happened."

That seemed to finally convince Navadar that she was telling the truth. He nodded and relaxed into his previous positions and she relaxed too. Navadar's face was red, but whether that was from embarrassment or anger she couldn't say.

"No man dared come near me," she teased proudly. "I made sure of that."

He laughed, but the expression in his eyes did not change.

"I'm fine, Navadar," she almost pleaded.

"No," he said. "If anything, you are certainly not _fine_."

"Maybe not," she allowed with a smile. "Yet still alive, if anything."

"Alive? That's really all you care about? Alive, maybe, but not in any reputable condition. You need rest, and food, and time to heal..."

"That would all be very fine if I had any time, Navadar," she said. "Out of everything, that's probably the thing I have the least of. Well, besides magic..."

"One more day," he begged. "One day, that's all I'm asking of you. You can afford at least one more day to recover."

"I don't know," she said, hesitant.

"You can take a break from your guardian duties for one more day."

"Navadar!"

"Please!"

She sighed. "Not being a guardian for a day, huh? Well, it does sound like fun..."

Kiethara closed her eyes. Being a guardian these past few days had been the hardest thing she had done for her duty so far. What Navadar was offering her was...irresistible. A chance to be a normal person? The opportunity to not bear the weight of a responsibility that she had been born with?

What would Aaron say to that, though? This was exactly what he had feared Navadar would do, interfere with her responsibilities. She felt like she was betraying his confidence with this decision and she yearned for nothing more than Aaron's approval. But had she not proven something over the past days? If he knew just how much she had suffered for his precious forest, would he give her leave to take tantalizing gift presented before her?

"You need it," he said, brushing his fingers lightly against her bruised cheek. She grabbed his fingers before they could escape, opening her eyes to look at him.

"Aaron wouldn't like this," she told him.

"He doesn't need to know," Navadar suggested with a shrug.

"Aaron knows everything," she said, rolling her eyes. "One way or another, he's bound to find out."

"I don't think he'll mind," Navadar said. "Not after how brave you've been."

"Me?" she snorted in disgust. "What I did over these past few days certainly isn't brave. Brave would have been to fight them off while I had still been in the forest. Brave would have been managing to escape instead of gaping at my surroundings, even if it would have cost me my dying breath. No, the only reason I'm returning to Aaron at all is because you saved me."

Navadar was silent for a moment, opening and closing his mouth, searching for something to say.

"You know that's not true," he finally managed.

"It's okay, Navadar. You can call me weak."

"Weak?!" he asked in disbelief. "Weak shouldn't even be in your vocabulary. Anyone else wouldn't have made off as well as you did, in the state they put you in. No one would have had the courage to hold their head high like you did, or put their faith in their enemy in order to obtain salvation."

"Some people might call that foolishness," she pointed out.

"It was cunning," he said. "Bravery and courage do not only rely on physical strength, dear. Mental strength counts for half the battle."

"Maybe so," she said, relenting.

"There you go," he said, smiling.

Kiethara swallowed, trying to ease the burning in the back of her throat. She was just so thirsty. Yet she was too shy to ask Navadar for anything else now, not after everything he had given her already.

The transition from day to night brought on new sounds and new smells to the kingdom of Redawn. Torches were lit on every corner and beautiful sounds that resembled those that came from her locket rang out. She turned her head to where it echoed from, but she couldn't see where it was coming from. She frowned as she listened harder. Why, she had never heard anything like it!

"Do you like the music?" Navadar asked, raising his eyebrows and the corners of his lips in amusement.

"Music? I've never heard anything like it!" she exclaimed.

"You've never heard music?" he asked in amazement.

"Besides the music in my mother's locket? Not at all," Kiethara answered.

Kiethara brought her hand up to her neck instinctively, reaching for the locket. Her fingers combed empty air. With a jolt, she realized nothing hung around her neck. Of course, she didn't have it! How had she ever expected that those blasted fools would have let her keep such a piece of finery that actually did come off of her? Even so, it sent angry stabs of pain through her heart. The last piece of her mother, the final truth and proof of her heritage, was gone. Her last physical possession was lost to an unfamiliar, overcrowded world that swarmed around her viciously. The only comfort left to her was the fact that she knew that nobody would be able to open it, but still, she felt so hollow...

"Tomorrow, for sure, I will take you for the time of your life. Most of it will be up to you, though," Navadar said, oblivious to her discovery, or her pain.

She didn't answer, but turned her head to the sea again, trying to overcome a fresh wave of dizziness that rattled her head. She didn't trust her voice at the moment. Her throat seemed to have something stuck in it.

"I'll have to see if Trinnia can lend you something to wear," he continued, suddenly becoming very interested in his shoes. "Not that I care, really, Kiethara, I don't. But I don't think you would enjoy it if people were staring at you everywhere we went. Plus, a fresh dress might even feel nice."

"I really think we should set off tomorrow," Kiethara whispered hollowly.

"I understand if you don't want to go out," he said quickly, holding his hands up. "But I can't let you go. Not yet. It's too soon."

"Being a guardian isn't all fun and games, Navadar!" she snapped, raising her voice. "You do not comprehend the gravity of my situation! People everywhere are talking about me! I attracted enough blasted attention in Nikkoi; Gandador must have heard of my presence by now! What will become of me if he burns down the entire forest, eh?!"

"K-Kiethara..." he stuttered, shocked.

"I'll be destroyed! I have no source of power and with nothing to guard, I'll die! But of course, that doesn't matter to you, does it?! People don't use magic here; in fact, I don't think I've seen people using magic anywhere! It seems like my existence doesn't matter to anyone anymore!"

"No, I-I didn't mean it like that..."

Kiethara let out a huff and placed her hands on either side of her head. If only she could get this pounding in her head to stop! If only she had her locket...

"I'm sorry, Navadar," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. Why did she do that? Oh, how she hated herself. "That was uncalled for."

"You don't have to apologize," he said quietly.

"I do, I do. You've done so much for me, and that's how I choose to repay you? I'm so grateful for your hospitality, please understand that," she pleaded.

"I do, Kiethara, and your apology really isn't necessary. You know that you don't owe me anything."

"Of course I do! What was it I owed you? Thirty pieces of gold? Huh," Kiethara said, raising her head. She didn't even know what that meant. Gold, she knew, but what constituted as one piece? Where in the world was she supposed to get something like that, anyway?

"You don't have to pay me back," he laughed.

"Good, because I can't," she told him with a grin. "Sorry."

Navadar straightened up and turned around so he could look her squarely in the face. He took one of her hands in his. How could he be so...happy? She wished that she could feel the peace that seemed to be radiating off of him. She was so happy to be with him right now, ecstatic, but darker thoughts shadowed the light, easy fun they usually had. Thoughts of loss.

Kiethara squeezed Navadar's hand. "So, a day off for me, huh? Now, what in the world does a normal person do in Redawn?"

Her false enthusiasm made his eyes light up in a new kind of excitement. It was similar to the light she sometimes caught a glimpse of when he was in the forest, one that seemed to be paired with anything that could be defined as an adventure.

"Well, we're going to have fun, that's what we are going to do. It will be the time of your life. I'll give a tour, take you on the docks, and buy some honey cakes—"

"Honey cakes?"

"Sweets, Kiethara," he sighed. "Not to worry, it's impossible for someone not to like them."

"Well, I'm up for anything and everything with you, Navadar, as long as you give me your word we'll leave first thing the day after tomorrow."

"You know, this would be much more fun if you didn't worry as much," he pointed out.

She only glared at him.

"I promise, I promise," he chuckled.

"That's all I'm asking," she said with a nod. "Now, what were you saying about a fresh dress?"

"It's only so you might not attract as much attention as you are. With a dress from Trinnia, you'll blend right into the crowd."

"Yes, because I'm sure Trinnia is just dying to lend my one of her dresses."

"I'll persuade her to lend you one," he said confidently. "She has more than she can count."

"I don't understand," Kiethara said. "What in the world does she do with all of them?"

"Outings, dinners, formal occasions, dances, and whatever else—the king only knows. She hardly wears one twice."

"Interesting," Kiethara commented dryly. She herself had only worn one dress her entire life and it was the one she was wearing now. Though it did get dirty, it never got worn, but she always figured that was because it was the garments of the guardians.

"Navadar," Kiethara said, and he turned his attention back onto her. Their faces were mere inches apart; she could feel his hot breath in her face. "Thank you, truly."

He answered her with his eyes. Their faces came together, and their lips met. Like always, his tender kisses sent strange sparks through her body, awakening it to new feelings, new sensations. They were beginning to become expected, but not yet familiar. Everything intensified as she began to feel his new touches—a hand was entwined into her hair and an arm was placed around her waist as he pulled her closer. He crushed himself to her, helping her to stay on the banister, but his effort was silly, really. She had been in more perilous positions in the trees of the forest. Balance was second nature to her now.

But this kiss...

It came to her now like a newly discovered instinct. She was still...hesitant at some points that Navadar was not. He seemed to know just where to move his tongue, to places that made her breaths come in gasps; her hands clutch him tighter...

At last, the kiss stopped, and they relaxed back into their easy positions. His back moved up and down her legs in tune to his breathing. She caught her breath too, smiling, running her hand through his golden hair. No wonder he came from Redawn. He looked just like it.

They sat quite peacefully for a while, no one bothering to restart the conversation. Kiethara was trying to focus on the stars in the sky, but she was finding it difficult. Her head throbbed, her throat burned, and the world spun intensely before her. Her early sense of panic returned. Random thoughts popped into her head; she saw her mother's locket, she saw the empty forest, and she gasped. Navadar looked up at her in confusion. Just as his father had when she had spit out of wine...oh, how she had wanted something else to drink...something to drink...

Water, her mind finally screamed. _Water!_ She had not drunk a drop in days. Or was it weeks? Foolish, foolish, foolish! She tried to tell Navadar, but he was spinning too fast. She began to fall into what appeared to be blackness, into voices that were screaming her name...

**CHAPTER 25**

**HEAVENLY**

Splash!

Kiethara bolted upright with a wild gasp, wild thoughts running through her head, her now soaked hair clinging to her skin.

"G-Gandador!" she spluttered at once, without bothering to take in her surroundings. A wild image of the two of them at sea, trying to drown each other, was fresh in her mind. She tried to move, to get up from the soft surface she was on and run, but something fought to hold her back.

"Kiethara!" someone yelled, and she stopped thrashing when she recognized the voice. She blinked a few times to clear her eyes, to separate fantasy from reality. Navadar was sitting on the bed with her, gripping both of her wrists and holding her back.

"Kiethara, it's okay, it's okay," he soothed, his forehead creased in worry. "He's not here. You're safe, I swear."

She didn't answer. With wide eyes she looked around at the room she was in. It was the same one room she had slept in before. Raynock was hovering over the bed, hosting the same creased forehead on his face as his son did.

"What...?" she asked, relaxing her muscles. Navadar released her wrists.

"It seems you fainted, Miss Kiethara," Raynock said, taking an additional step forward. "I believe you have had quite a strenuous journey these past days and it seems to have deprived you of water. I'm no doctor, but I believe you are dehydrated. I could call for a doctor, if you wish..."

"No, no, please don't go to the trouble," Kiethara replied quickly. Navadar was already holding a glass of water under her nose.

She took it from his hands and gulped its continents down greedily. It was such sweet bliss to feel the cool liquid running down her parched throat. She finished it in seconds.

"I'll go and fetch another glass," Raynock said quickly, taking it from her hand.

"T-thank you," she stuttered as he went through the door.

As soon as the door clicked shut Kiethara fell back onto the pillow with a moan.

"What did I say? What would have happened if you had fainted on your way back to the forest, eh?" Navadar said, putting a hand on her forehead.

"Shut up," she mumbled playfully. She pulled one of the pillows out from under her head and whacked him with it.

"This is what I get for being right?" he asked as he wrestled the pillow out of her hands. "Now, that doesn't seem fair at all!"

"Never said I fought fair," she said with a wink.

Navadar laughed as he set the pillow down. "Lovely, now I know to watch my back."

Raynock reentered the room with a fresh glass of water, filled to the brim. Navadar got off the bed as he handed it to her.

"How long was I out for?" she inquired, taking a more carefully measured sip.

"Only a few minutes, I believe," Raynock answered. "It was lucky that I had just rounded the corner, for my son here was quite in a panic. I walk onto the porch and there he was, standing frozen in horror and you unconscious in his arms!"

"Thank you, father," Navadar mumbled, and Raynock laughed.

"Yet it's late, and I fear Kiethara needs her rest. Come, my son," Raynock said, walking out of the room. Navadar gave her a swift peck on the cheek and then hurried to follow his father out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Kiethara finished off her glass of water and then placed it on the window sill next to her. She pulled the covers up to her chin, the only thing keeping her warm and not allowing her wet hair to give her a chill. Maybe taking a day to rest wouldn't be so bad. Maybe it was exactly what she needed. Maybe...

Kiethara fell asleep.

### ***

Kiethara blinked in the blazing morning sun. With a soft moan she rolled over, entangling herself even more with the blankets. Her hair was fanned out around her face, dry, but messy in loose knots. Despite the bright sun, she could feel that the air had a crisp autumn chill to it.

This was exactly why Kiethara had no desire to leave the pleasant warmth of the bed.

She then spotted her liquid courage sitting on the desk across the room, a fresh glass of water that someone must have left. It took all of her strength for her to stumble out of the bed, but the water drew her out like a magnet. She was somehow thirsty again, and she certainly didn't want a repeat of what had happened last night.

After she gulped down the water, she took a peak out the window. Nothing had changed, really. The people below still hurried through the streets, carrying baskets of apples on top of their heads, leading animals by the reins, or rolling barrels down the cobblestone. Bulky carts pushed annoyed people off to the side and children chased balls that their friends had kicked. Would she really be a part of that today?

Kiethara did not know what to do next. Go downstairs? What if no one was down there? Or, even worse, what if many people were down there? She didn't want to walk into a breakfast without an invitation, and certainly not dressed like this. She had come to realize, by Navadar's evasive commenting, that there was something wrong with the short, white dress that she wore. She had worn nothing else all her life and, for the first time in her memory, she would be changing out of it...well, maybe not. She still didn't believe that she would be getting something to wear from Trinnia. Trinnia!

Well, she couldn't just stand here for the rest of her life.

So with that encouraging thought, she opened the door warily and quietly walked down the hall, recollecting the way that Navadar had taken her. Down the stairs and then to the left...and alas, there was the door.

It really shouldn't be this difficult to walk through a door.

She raised her hand to knock, lowered it, and then raised it again. No, that was foolish; no one had ever knocked before. With a deep breath, she timidly pushed the door open and, to her utter relief, she found only Navadar was seated at the table. He had a breakfast plate before him and he was chewing with a thoughtful expression. But that cleared away as soon as she walked into the room.

"Kiethara!" he said, standing. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better," she told him with a smile. It was true, her whole body felt rejuvenated.

"I'm glad to hear that," he responded. "Now, sit, you must be starving."

That was also true.

She decided to take the seat opposite him as too see him better. It made her slightly uncomfortable that it was Trinnia's old seat.

"Tina!" Navadar called, and in came bustling the female servant. "Fetch Miss Kiethara some breakfast, please, but don't place any flesh on her plate."

A bit confused at his directions, she nodded and left.

"Thank you," she said.

"My pleasure."

She still didn't like this room that they dined in. The formal air seemed to cling to everything inside it, to every word that was spoken. It was a little more relaxed than before, but she could still sense it. It made her fidget uneasily in her seat.

Tina came back in with a plate in hand and placed it down before her. On it were, to her relief, were familiar fruits, as well as three slices of bread. Each was spread with something purple, though, something that looked oddly familiar...She looked up at Navadar with a quizzical expression.

"Its jam, made from grapes, not to worry."

"Right."

They ate in silence for a moment. She enjoyed the bread immensely. It seemed she was missing out on a lot in the forest when it came to her diet.

But she would have rather never to have tasted any of it if it meant returning back. The longing for her home was beginning to become unbearable.

"What are we doing today?" she asked, trying to distract herself.

"Tina will give you a wash"—Kiethara shuddered at the word—"and then Trinnia should come with that dress. After that, well, the kingdom is yours."

"Are you sure, Navadar?" she asked. "I'm really not all that familiar with your customs and rules. I could quite easily make a fool out of both of us—"

"Nonsense," he interrupted. "We'll be fine, I'm sure of it."

"Well, you can't say I didn't warn you," she sighed, taking a bite from her apple.

"This isn't you worrying again, I hope?" he asked disapprovingly.

"See, I have this habit of getting into situations I shouldn't be in, so..."

"Only when you are by yourself. Never when you're with me."

"That's not completely true," she pointed out. She had barely gotten him out of a very bad situation, once, one that involved a sweet kiss and a cruel awakening...

"Well, you're in my territory now. This is, after all, my forest. So I better have your trust."

"Fine, you may drag me around today. And then tomorrow, you will drag me in only one direction: home."

"Deal," Navadar said with a grin.

They hurriedly finished their breakfast. Kiethara's thoughts roamed elsewhere, on the journey they would be taking tomorrow. How long would it take to reach the forest? Aaron, oh, how she missed him. She could almost see the forest now, with all of its sights and smells. More importantly, it was a world that she was in complete control over.

But longing for it would not make it happen any faster. She needed to focus on the present. Today was going to be something she had never experienced before, with Navadar. This is what she had always dreamed of. Exploring the kingdom's to see what they were like; sampling everything they had to offer, on the arm of the young man who knew every trick of the trade.

Tina walked into the room and cleared their empty plates.

"Anything else?" she asked Navadar.

"Yes, if you don't mind helping Miss Kiethara through a wash. I need to wait for Trinnia, who's coming with a suitable outfit for her."

Tina curtsied and then turned to Kiethara.

"If you'll follow me, miss," she said politely, beckoning to the door.

Kiethara got up from the table and, after receiving a reassuring look from Navadar, followed Tina out the door. She led her back up the stairs and past the room she had been sleeping in. They entered a room at the end of the hall.

This room wasn't like the one she was using, that was for sure. It had no bed, but on the left wall there was a grand fireplace, which already housed a roaring fire that heated the room. A silver basin was only a foot from the fire, filled to the brim with water. The basin was of decent size, but was she really expected to wash in it? She was used to taking her baths in a lake, or, more recently, a river.

"Looks like the bath has already been drawn up, Miss," Tina said. "I hope it's warm enough for you."

"I'm sure it will be fine," Kiethara said, trying not to sound too shocked at the fact that the water had been warmed for her bath. Once she took a bath in a frozen lake in the dead of winter—nothing felt cold anymore.

"I'll get a towel and a brush while you get in," she said.

"T-thank you," Kiethara replied as she left.

As soon as the door closed behind Tina, she began taking off her garments, everything except, of course, for her crystals. She folded the white fabric into a neat square and laid it on the nearby table. She could absolutely not forget them. Aaron had informed her that they had been passed down from generation to generation, set to fit no matter what.

She walked over, her bare feet reveling in the feeling of the soft carpet, and stepped into the basin. The water was warm! A smile lit her face. Without hesitation she submerged her entire body, sloshing some water up over the sides and onto the carpet. With a soft moan she sank lowered and closed her eyes. This was heavenly.

Tina reentered the room and placed a towel and a brush on the mantle.

"Do you need anything else, miss?"

"No, thank you. This is lovely," she murmured.

"You're welcome," Tina replied with a warm smile. She backed up into the corner and clasped her hands together.

Kiethara gazed at the woman through the corner of her eye. Why in the world was she standing in a corner? Was it normal for servants to do that? Why not sit on one of the couches?

Would it be rude to ask?

After a few minutes of internal debating on the point, she decided asking wouldn't kill her. And it was bothering her to no end.

"Won't you...sit down? It can't be comfortable standing for so long," Kiethara suggested.

"If you wish, Miss," she said, curtsied, and sat down.

"Er...would it be rude of me to ask you to stop doing that?" Kiethara asked. It bothered her, too.

"No," Tina said slowly. "But it is awfully strange. You're not from around these parts, are you?"

"Never been here before," Kiethara admitted.

"Where are you from, then?"

"The forest."

Tina was silent for a while. Even though Kiethara couldn't see her expression clearly, she could feel the waves of shock rolling off of her.

"The forest? As in...?" she asked.

"Yes. The legendary forest."

"How in the world...?"

"My mother is the guardian, yes."

Tina was silent again.

Why was she even telling Tina this? There was nothing wrong with keeping quiet. For some reason, however, she felt as though she shared some connection with Tina, as though she had found in her a similarity. Which was foolish, really, she was just as everyone else here was. Shocked to find out where she was from, unnerved by her mannerisms...What she really needed was someone who actually used magic to hear her out, but that was impossible in the kingdom of Redawn.

"What are you doing here, in Redawn?" Tina asked quietly, timidly, as though she was afraid to ask the question.

"Let us just say that I did not come to be here on my free will," Kiethara replied with a quiet sigh.

Tina fell silent again, and Kiethara could not help herself—she had to turn to look at her. She had her hands in her lap and she was biting her lip fretfully, looking down.

"Where are you from?" Kiethara asked.

"I've lived in Redawn my entire life," she answered matter-of-factly.

"Really?"

"Yes. I find myself very blessed, too."

"Oh, yes," Kiethara agreed. "Redawn is a remarkable kingdom."

"Definitely, miss."

Silence again, and she could think of no other questions to ask the girl. She stretched herself out in the tub and tried to relax.

After a few minutes, or so she thought, Tina stood and crossed over to the mantle. She grabbed the towel and unfolded it with a muffled snap.

Understanding that she was meant to get out, Kiethara stood up in the basin, her back to Tina. Tina walked forward and put the towel to her back, wrapping it around her torso. Kiethara stepped out of the basin and onto the soft rug.

Tina then grabbed the brush and began running the bristles through Kiethara's waist-long hair. Kiethara had the strange urge to purr like a cat. It felt so good compared to the usual brushing she gave her hair, either with her fingers or choice twigs. Redawn was simply pampering her.

The silence and peace was broken by a sharp rap on the door.

Kiethara started, holding her towel more securely around her. Tina put the brush back on the mantle and hurried to the door, cracking it open to see who it was.

"Miss Trinnia! Please, come in!" Tina said.

In walked Trinnia, in a beautiful silk yellow dress. Her golden hair was neatly braided, and, as always, her chin was held high. She carried a woven basket on one arm.

"These must be Miss Kiethara's clothes," Tina said, relieving Trinnia of the basket.

"Tina," Trinnia acknowledged dryly. She almost sounded bored.

Tina put the basket on the table and began pulling out its continents. Most of the articles she pulled out Kiethara had never seen before in her life. Only the last did she recognize.

It was a long, flowing gown, consisting of a deep, deep blue and an unblemished white. The sleeves were elbow length, each adorned with a white bow at the end. At the waist of the dress, white, intricately designed lace made its way up the stomach of the outfit, all the way to its top, where it was lavished with a thick blue ribbon. The skirt was completely blue and rather full, pulling out a good few inches on either side. She was taken away by its gorgeousness. She couldn't see herself in it.

"Lovely!" Tina complimented.

"It's old," Trinnia said bluntly. "And I don't want it back."

"Yes, ma'am," Tina said. "Do you wish to stay while she dresses?"

"That will be all, Tina," Trinnia said loudly, ignoring her question. Tina curtsied quickly and left the room.

Trinnia walked over to the table and picked up one of the unfamiliar articles. It was short and just the shape of her torso. It had no sleeves, with enough fabric at the bottom just to reach her legs, and it had lace crisscrossing up its back. Could not one piece of this wardrobe be without lace?

"Here, come here," Trinnia ordered. "I can't dress you from over there."

Kiethara went to where Trinnia stood cautiously, all too aware of her sharp tone. As soon as she was in arm's length of Trinnia, she grabbed her and spun Kiethara around, stripping her of her towel. Kiethara gasped.

"Step into this," Trinnia demanded, handing over the item in her hands.

"Ah..."Kiethara said while stepping into it. "What is it?"

"You've never worn a corset?" she asked with a laugh. "Well, it doesn't surprise me."

Kiethara pulled her arms through the sleeves. It was extremely comfortable. The cool silk was a nice antidote to the warm water.

That is, until Trinnia began knotting up the lace in the back.

She pulled and yanked the ribbons expertly, moving her fingers quickly and skillfully. Each tug constricted the corset tighter around her torso. Kiethara inhaled sharply.

"So, how long have you known Navadar?" she asked in a brisk tone, yanking even harder.

"A few months, say." It sounded like a question.

"We've known each other since we were children."

"That's...lovely," Kiethara said slowly, unsure how to respond to that.

"This is your first time in the kingdoms, correct?"

"Yes."

"And how many times has Navadar been to the forest?" Trinnia asked.

"I-I can't say...exactly..." Kiethara was becoming confused. Partly because of the questions themselves and partly because of the rapid speed at which Trinnia was delivering them.

Trinnia's hands moved further up her back as she pulled the lace tighter. It was squeezing her so hard it was almost painful now. Kiethara placed a hand on her stomach, attempting to take a deep breath. It didn't work.

"Is it...supposed to be this tight?" Kiethara choked out.

"Yes," Trinnia answered shortly.

Trinnia finished lacing the corset and spun Kiethara around. She scanned her over with her cruel, pretty brown eyes.

"All right, then, into the dress." Trinnia said, holding it open for her to step into.

"Thank you," Kiethara said earnestly as they pulled it over her corset.

"Mm," Trinnia replied as she tied the ribbon on the back of it into a bow, doing the same to the ribbons on her sleeves. Sharp hands ran through her hair, pulling it and twisting it. It hurt, nothing like the soft petting that Tina had given her, but Kiethara kept her mouth shut. She had the feeling that vocalizing her discomfort would only make things worse. After a few minutes, her hair was back in a tight bun.

"So what is your relationship with Navadar?" Trinnia demanded suddenly.

Her relationship with him? She remembered every word he had spoken to her, recalled every fond touch they had ever shared, and saw every smile he had flashed her as though it had all happened only yesterday.

Kiethara turned to Trinnia and looked her in the eyes, spotting for the first time a hidden fear behind the coolness.

"Very good. We're _extremely_ close," Kiethara answered smugly.

Trinnia's eyes narrowed. She snatched up her basket and strode towards the door.

"That dress fell out of style a year ago," she snapped, slamming the door behind her.

Kiethara smiled. She twirled around in her out-of-style decor, feeling simply heavenly.

**CHAPTER 26**

**FAVORS**

Kiethara stood at the top of the staircase, trying to gather some courage. She could hear Navadar and Trinnia talking below, but she couldn't make out the words. The hem of her dress swished against the wood as her bare toes tapped nervously on the cool wooden floor, which did not feel as nearly as nice as the carpet had. Her breathing was a bit shallow, too, but not because of nervousness. It was this corset that seemed to be attempting to squeeze all the air from her lungs. She really wished she could take a look at herself first, instead of judging her appearance on Navadar's reaction.

And with Trinnia still down there, she was finding it impossible to get her feet moving forward. She could only imagine what the girl was telling Navadar right now, most likely tales of how the poor forest-girl upstairs didn't even know how to dress herself properly, or pull her hair up like a normal girl.

She couldn't just stand here, though.

Descending the stairs in the dress proved more of a challenge than she would have thought; she carefully lifted the hem above her ankles so she could make the safe journey down. She kept her eyes firmly focused on her feet, too, watching them till the last step. She heard their conversation quiet as she reached the bottom. Dropping her skirts, she raised her head up.

Navadar was looking up and down her with wide eyes. He himself had changed into a nice tunic for the occasion, this one a deep, rustic red.

Kiethara completely ignored Trinnia as she turned in a little circle. "Do I look like a normal girl now?"

Navadar laughed. "You look...well, I mean, you look like a stranger! But as for kingdom standards, I believe you'll blend right in."

"Good," she said. "I certainly don't need any more attention if I can help it. I'd rather not attract it."

"You won't," he promised.

"According to those lovely tales of yours, though, it seemed to have already attracted quite an amount of attention," Trinnia pointed out, smiling with her heart shaped lips.

"Unfortunately, yes," Kiethara agreed with a forced smile of her own.

"Well, Kiethara, are you ready to go?" Navadar interrupted, looking back and forth between them a bit nervously. She nodded.

"Trinnia, feel free to treat yourself to anything here while we're gone," he continued.

"Where are you headed?" she asked politely.

"Oh, I'm just showing Miss Kiethara around the kingdom," he answered off-handedly.

"Sounds charming," she replied, but Kiethara heard the undercurrent under her tone.

"Well, we'll be off. We won't wander too far, if you need me," he said, walking to the door and holding it open. Kiethara stepped through onto the porch, breathing a sigh of relief as Navadar shut it behind them. She could feel Trinnia's murderous glare cutting into her back.

"Shall we?" Navadar asked with a sudden grin, his previous tension vanishing. He held his elbow out for her to take. She took it with a smile of her own.

"Definitely."

They strolled off the porch and he turned her to the left, away from the sea. That disappointed her a little, but it was Navadar's day today. She was here to enjoy it and follow along.

"I hope Trinnia wasn't too bad while she dressed you," he said as they rounded a corner.

"Oh, Trinnia I can handle," she promised with a grin. "What I can't handle is this bloody corset she put on me! Is it really that wrong to be able to breathe?"

"I never understood why they needed it, either," Navadar laughed.

"Men are lucky."

"Men aren't obsessed with how thin they are. Women are insane about their appearance."

"So, then, does that make me a man?" she giggled.

"That makes you a real human being, not bound by laws, limitations, or society," he said with confidence.

"Navadar," she said, surprised. "That was poetic!"

"I'm hurt," he said. "You're shocked that I could think of something like that!"

"Well, I thought I had you all figured out."

"What are you talking about? I'm a man full of secrets and mystery."

"Secrets and mystery, maybe, but are you really a man?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

Navadar took his free arm to her waist and roughly pulled her closer to him.

"What did you say?" he growled in her ears.

"You heard me," she giggled, struggling to get out of his strong grip. He relented slightly, letting her support most of her weight.

"You dare insult me in my own kingdom? Do you not realize that I hold so much more power over you?" he asked.

"You don't have any power over me!" she scoffed.

"Oh yes, I do," he said, and turned another corner. Kiethara looked up, surprised. She hadn't been paying attention to where they had been going, and now they were in a completely different area. The houses were fewer, yet still grand and large tents had been set up before them. One thing that attracted her eye right away was the floral; she could smell the scent of flowers in the air.

"Navadar," she said breathlessly. "These tents have—"

"Flowers, yes. We have some nature here too, for people to decorate their houses with, or bestow upon a loved one."

"Can we look?" she begged. "Please?"

Navadar laughed and pulled her towards the large red tent, shaking his head. "Why do you think I brought you here? To torture you?"

They walked into the entrance of the tent to find long, wooden tables placed throughout, with potted plants and trimmed flowers bulked onto their surfaces.

A lady sat in the corner, molding a shapeless lump of clay into what Kiethara suspected to be another pot. She looked up at them and then back down to her work, clearly uninterested. Kiethara slowed, unsure of how to proceed with that welcoming, but Navadar, who was not phased, tugged her forward.

She walked along the tables lining the area inside the tent, naming each flower she walked by as she stroked their petals. Sunflowers, baby's breath, marigolds, tulips, roses...Navadar walked very close behind her. She could feel the warm movements of his chest.

Kiethara made sure to make her way around the whole tent, but her crystals remained as dark as ever.

She had thought being near something that resembled the forest would have allotted her some power back. It had been a foolish wish, really; Aaron had told her that only the forest was pure enough to create its own magic. These flowers here were pretty, but nothing compared to the luscious blooms she was used to. They did not come from the forest.

"You're very knowledgeable about these flowers," the woman noted, causing the two of them to turn.

"Oh, um, yes," Kiethara said offhandedly, turning red.

"I could use a girl like you," she continued.

"I'm sorry," Kiethara said. "I do not live in this kingdom, I am only visiting. I would have been honored to help you, though."

"That's a shame," she commented before going back to her work.

Kiethara turned and beckoned to the door with a pointed look at Navadar. The lady was unnerving. No wonder the tent was empty.

"Don't you want one?" he mouthed at her. She shook her head.

They exited the tent quickly, arm in arm, and Navadar steered her down the road.

### ***

Navadar took her everywhere.

They went into tent after tent, shop after shop, and explored street after street. He took her by his father's workshop. His father, apparently, was a well-known blacksmith, crafting weapons for the king himself. She now knew where Navadar had gotten the skill necessary to craft his bow, for his father was a genius. Raynock was also kind to her, complimenting her new appearance generously and allowing her a small tour of the workshop. Kiethara absorbed every word in awe.

Navadar then found it quite necessary to take her to an outside bakery, where he ordered two honey cakes. He laughed when she hesitated to take a bite. It was sticky when she pinched it with her fingers, pulling off a piece and popping it into her mouth. It had been simply delectable; sweet and creamy as it melted warmly in her mouth. Her mouth continued to water long after devouring every morsel of the scrumptious treat. It was nothing like the fruit she ate in the forest. It was much better.

Navadar told her that the king's palace was a bit too far for them to walk to. It was situated in the far upper corner of the kingdom, bordering the sea in a very defensible position. He had his military live in the houses surrounding, as well as the important officials, scholars, and messengers that presided in his court.

Navadar also took her to a library, a small house filled with scrolls. There she once again became aware of the fact that she could not quite "blend in" as well as she had hoped.

Kiethara had taken down one of the scrolls, finding it a slight challenge to decipher the loopy handwriting. It was a fable about some tragic love story, but one part grabbed her attention.

"Navadar, listen to this," Kiethara called out, and he turned away from the set of shelves he had been examining across the room.

" _Hatred hold's jealousy's hand_

Sorrow is solitude's silent lover

Staring at a fire will not rekindle it...

Just as starting sparks does not promise flames...

There is always a threat of explosion.

To hate yourself is to love others;

How can you stare at them without forgetting who you resemble?

Assemble them, line them up.

You will see many people, who have many things...

And you will cower when they gaze upon you."

Navadar just stared at her, mouth open slightly, as though he were waiting for the words to form.

"What?" she asked as she replaced the scroll.

"You can _read?!_ " he asked, astounded.

"Yes," she replied, insulted that he figured she was that dumb. "Why?"

"Well, women don't read," he stated simply, though he looked just as confused as she was.

"I...don't understand."

"Women don't read," he repeated. "They...aren't taught how to. Only men know how to read."

"And why is that?" she asked sharply, still not fully understanding what he was getting at.

"I don't know, because women are...I mean, they're not unable, they just...perform different tasks." It sounded like a question.

Kiethara turned to face Navadar directly, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrow.

"So what you're saying is they're not allowed to read?"

"I didn't mean it like that," he said quickly. "That's just how the kingdoms see it..."

"But that's so absurd!" she exclaimed hotly. "What else is wrong with these kingdoms?!"

"Nothing is wrong, Kiethara. This has just been the culture for years. We don't treat women like mules. We just feel that men should shoulder the responsibility for most things."

Shoulder the responsibility? She had been a three year old girl when she had shouldered her responsibility, and it included much more than reading. Still, she was here today to enjoy not having a responsibility.

"Well, be it your way," she said with a small smile. "I am a tad bit out of the loop of things, aren't I?"

Navadar had chuckled.

He then had taken her to lunch. It was a small pub on a busy corner, with dark windows and a wooden signed that creaked in the chilly breeze. That same chill had led them to ask for a table inside, although the sky above was cloudless; however, she had only been able to pick at her fresh greens and potatoes. Her corset was making her awfully uncomfortable and she feared that putting anything into her stomach would only worsen the problem and hinder her in her quest to breath.

Soon they stepped out of the pub and into the crisp autumn air. Before Kiethara had the chance to ask Navadar where they were going next, a shrill voice called out.

"Navadar!" Trinnia cried.

They turned simultaneously. Trinnia was headed towards them, accompanied by a very large man who appeared to be quite tired. Kiethara guessed the man to be Trinnia's father.

"What a coincidence!" Trinnia exclaimed as she got closer, looking delighted. Something told Kiethara this was no coincidence at all.

"Navadar," the man said, sounding relieved. "Your father working, is he? I need a dent buffered out of my shield. I'll just leave you to it..."

Before Navadar could utter a single word of objection, the portly man waddled off, leaving his daughter behind.

"He's been complaining about that silly dent for weeks now," Trinnia complained with a roll of her eyes, taking Navadar's arm. "I wanted to show you something, anyway. Remember that merchant who came in last month? Well, he's back, and with the most extraordinary feathers I have ever seen..."

As Trinnia babbled, she pulled Navadar alongside her, picking up a fast pace down the road. Kiethara tried to keep up; reaching for Navadar, but the large crowd soon separated them. The people were so many, so thick, that she found it impossible to fight through. She had never been in a crowd before; she hurried forward, but then bumped into someone. She stopped to apologize, but by the time she turned around the person was gone. The faces were changing around her faster than she could blink.

She turned around again and, just like that, she had lost sight of them.

She was lost.

She froze in the middle of the road, her head turning in every direction. They were nowhere to be seen. People pushed her, impatient, as she stood frozen on the cobblestone, desperately craning her neck to see over them. She was bustled a few paces back.

Oh, how could Navadar do this to her?! A few more painful seconds went by, but he did not reappear out of the crowd. None of her surroundings looked familiar; there was no way she could find her way back to the house by herself. Was Trinnia really that important to him that he didn't even notice she was gone?

"Can I help you, ma'am?" a deep voice from behind her asked.

Kiethara spun around to find herself face to face with a young man who looked to be the same age as Navadar. He had glossy, white blond hair sleeked back into a small ponytail, tan skin, and amused dark eyes.

"You look rather lost," he continued when she didn't respond.

"I-I am," she said lamely, recovering her voice.

"Where are you from?" he inquired.

"I'm not from around here," she admitted. "I'm staying with a...friend, see. His name is Navadar. He's Raynock's son, I don't know if you've heard of him..."

"Navadar?" he asked in disbelief, and then he burst out into uncontrollable laughter, surprising her. "Oh, I know Navadar, all right."

"You do?" she asked, her fear finally disappearing.

"Yes, I know the bastard," he laughed, startling Kiethara further. "Not to worry, he's a good friend of mine. But I can't believe he hasn't said anything...What's your name?"

"Kiethara."

"Mallkin."

"It's a pleasure, Mallkin." Goodness knows what she would have done without him, but she didn't say that aloud.

"What I really can't understand is why he left you stranded like this," he said, finally managing a straight face.

"Well, Trinnia was taking him somewhere..."

"Trinnia?" he asked, looking at her with a blank expression. Then, without warning, he burst into a new round of laughter louder than the first.

"F-forgive me," he chortled.

"No, not at all!" Kiethara said, waving off his apology, though still thoroughly startled.

"Kiethara!"

They both turned around to find Navadar pushing his way through the crowd, Trinnia in tow. His expression was of pure relief, while her expression was of pure annoyance.

"Ah, here's Navadar!" Mallkin called out with another hearty laugh. "What fun..."

"Mallkin?" he asked in surprise. "I was just...that is..."

"Looks like you have your hands full," Mallkin said, raising his eyebrows and looking pointedly at the two girls.

"Hello, Mallkin," Trinnia said loudly, slightly offended.

"Ah, Miss Trinnia," Mallkin said quickly, bending down a kissing her hand. "You're looking as lovely as ever."

"I'm sorry, Kiethara," Navadar said, ignoring the two of them. "I lost you in the crowd..."

"It's quite all right," she said quickly.

"I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't found her, Mallkin," he continued.

"She's particularly charming when she's lost," he noted in a slightly serious tone, his eyes still amused. Navadar scowled at him.

"You wish to join us, Mallkin?" Trinnia asked.

"I would, for it has been so much fun, but I have much to do," he said solemnly. Then something sparked in his eyes. "Now, Miss Trinnia, may I have the honor of escorting you to your next destination?"

"Oh, go on then," she agreed, rather reluctantly.

Mallkin took her by the arm and began to lead her down the road. As he walked away, he turned his head over his shoulder and winked at Navadar. Navadar chuckled, waving him off, and then took Kiethara by her own arm.

"I really am so sorry—"

"It wasn't your fault," she told him. "Besides, Mallkin was very nice."

"Mallkin will be Mallkin," Navadar agreed with a grin.

"He told me you were good friends."

"We are. He moved here a few years ago; he's the funniest person I've ever met. Everyone thinks he's a fool, but he's actually rather clever when you get to know him. He manages to find a humor in life that most go without enjoying."

Kiethara smiled, remembering the way he had laughed at her absurd situation rather then becoming distraught over it. She then took note of her surroundings. "Where are we going?"

"Back home. We can rest a bit, and then go back out tonight."

"Tonight?"

"That's when the fun really starts," he said with a mischievous smile. Then he gasped. "Oh! The docks first, I had forgotten."

They wandered over to the docks, where he explained to her how it was used by the ships and various vessels. Barter, apparently, was big between the captains, and occurred heavily up and down the coast.

They walked back to the house and Kiethara went up to her room. She fell into the bed and tried to let out a long sigh, but her corset stopped it in its tracks.

Just a little longer, and Navadar would be taking her back to the forest. The longing in her heart was a pain now, intensifying with each passing moment. She couldn't stand it anymore.

She did feel guilty, however; Navadar was just so eager to give her the taste of his kingdom and his home the right way, the way she had always dreamed of. He had spent much of his money on her, had provided her shelter, and had nursed her back to health. She was so far in debt to him that she couldn't imagine a way out, and now she could only think of when he would grant her next request, to take her back to the forest.

So many favors.

And she could not pay him back.

### ***

They left the house together at sunset, which casted the sea into a bronze hue and lit the torches once again all over Redawn. In her opinion, it was the most beautiful time of day for this kingdom, where the white stones of the buildings were painted gold.

The walked together alongside the docks for a bit, until the sun had completely set, and then turned left, down a cobbled road. The noise level increased as they made a beeline towards a small square where a crowd had gathered. The noise was that of what had played from her now lost locket—music—but it was livelier. Laughter echoed and voices rang out as they approached. Towards the center of the square, people were dancing with one another. A group of people were lined up on the outskirts of the mob, each playing an instrument with a great amount of skill while everyone clapped along.

"Come on," Navadar said eagerly, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the center.

"Navadar," she gasped, trying to dig her bare feet into the cobblestone. "I can't! I've never—"

"Don't worry," he soothed, laughing. "It's easy, and I've got you."

He ignored the rest of her protests and continued to drag her through the thick crowd. Without her magic, he was stronger, and she didn't stand a chance.

At least he didn't drag her all the way to the center. He put his hand on her waist and took her right hand in his. She rested her other hand on his shoulder, mimicking the other girls surrounding them. She listened hard to the music...

And then she was spinning.

She followed Navadar's pushes and pulls, concentrating on moving her feet in the opposite direction of his own. The folds of her skirts flew out with her movement, ribbons streaming out behind her. She looked up quickly to peek at the couples around them, hoping she wouldn't run into them.

"See? It's not that hard," Navadar called over the music.

"Don't let go of me," she warned. He laughed.

Soon they were both laughing as they spun through the crowd, stomping their feet on cue; shouting and clapping their hands along with everyone else. Kiethara was out of breath, but she didn't feel like stopping or resting. She wasn't going to let the bloody corset ruin her fun.

It wasn't until a tap on her shoulder caused her to look back and Navadar to bring them to a stop.

It was Mallkin, but this time he was accompanied by another young man of the same age. His sandy colored curls bounced in tune to the movement around them, with watery, light blue eyes crinkling at the corners as he grinned at them.

"Mallkin! Randall!" Navadar called, surprised.

"Navadar, Kiethara," Mallkin responded with his usual grin, bending low to take her hand and kiss it. She reddened.

"Kiethara, I'd like you to meet a good friend of mine, Randall," Navadar introduced.

"A pleasure, I'm sure," he said, taking her hand and kissing it as well.

"Let's talk over there," Mallkin said, beckoning down the street.

The four of them squeezed through the crowd of dancers. Kiethara fell behind them, but this time Navadar took a firm grip on her hand as he led her in a wild weave through the people.

All of a sudden, something grabbed her bottom. However, this did not feel as though something had accidentally bumped into her. No, this was deliberate. She felt it...squeeze.

Kiethara spun around, ripping her hand from Navadar's. She instantly spotted a young man of a tall, lean demeanor staring at her, thick black locks carelessly swept from his forehead, away from his eyes. As their eyes met above his dancing partner, he winked.

Arrogant fool! Kiethara felt her anger reach boiling point and, before she could put a lid on it, her fist was balled and her arm was reaching back.

Wham!

Her knuckles made contact with his jaw and he was sent staggering back. The girl he had been dancing with screamed, tripping over her long dress in attempt to get away from Kiethara. Kiethara cocked an eyebrow at the boy, shaking her hand in the air to relieve it of the pain. He was staring up at her in shock, massaging his jaw.

"Excuse me?" she asked.

Everything around her had gone silent; even the music had stopped playing. She felt every single pair of eyes upon her, but she did not care any longer. She was focused on the man she had sent to the ground in front of her, who was now spluttering incoherent sentences with an expression that promised violence.

From behind her, Navadar grabbed her upper arm. Keeping his head low, he dragged her through the silent throng of people, all of them too stunned to move or stop them. He hurried her down the street and then yanked her into a deserted alley.

Mallkin and Randall had followed their swift escape and as soon as they entered the deserted passage, they both burst into hysterical laughter. Mallkin slide down the wall, clutching his stomach, while Randall had to brace himself on his knees. Even Navadar was soon gasping for breath. Kiethara found herself smiling, despite her anger.

"I...love...her!" Mallkin managed to get out between gasps.

"What?" Kiethara asked indignantly. "What else was I supposed to do?"

"Right in the face, oh!" Randall chortled.

"And she _punched_ him," Mallkin said in an awed voice. He barked another laugh. "Not even a slap, an actual punch!"

"Navadar, where in the world did you find her?" Randall asked him, shaking his head.

"That's a long story," Navadar replied, suddenly looking at her with an unfathomable expression.

"Who was he?" she asked him.

"Narsis, the kingdom's ass," Mallkin explained.

"What made you punch him?" Navadar asked. Kiethara felt her cheeks go pink.

"Well, he grabbed my bum..."

"That scoundrel," Randall growled. "Gets himself into trouble every other day. I can't believe he hasn't been sent to the gallows yet."

"What does he do?" she asked.

"Everything," Navadar spat angrily. "He lies, he cheats, and he steals. He acts very inappropriate, in very public places."

"And no one does anything?"

"He's rich," Mallkin said with a shrug. "His father has one of the highest positions in the king's army. He can weasel himself out of anything."

"No one likes him," Navadar added.

"Except for other rich women," Randall said. "Trinnia's family allows him to escort her all over the place.

"Ah, yes, the kingdom slut," Mallkin said. "They're perfect for each other..."

"That's a bit harsh," Navadar reasoned.

"Maybe," Randall allowed. "Her parents most likely force her."

"Right, because it's hard to find her a match that's richer than she is," Mallkin agreed.

"Why does everything revolve around money in these kingdoms?" Kiethara asked, shaking her head as she listened to them.

"Well, surely it's the same from where you come from, no?" Mallkin asked, surprised.

"Where do you come from?" Randall asked.

Kiethara opened her mouth and then looked up at Navadar. He gave her a reassuring look. Obviously, he trusted them.

"I come from the forest," she told them.

Their reactions were what she had expected, but instead of treating her as Trinnia did when they learned her origins, they looked upon her with a new interest.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"So this is where you've been running off to!" Mallkin exclaimed, turning to Navadar.

"Yes," he admitted with a sheepish grin.

"Should have known! You were always looking for an adventure!"

"Looks like he returned victorious, too," Randall observed with a playful wink at him.

Kiethara's cheeks flamed.

"So, is your father a guardian?" Mallkin asked.

"No, my mother is."

"Does that mean...you use magic?" Randall asked tentatively, as though he was asking her something very personal.

"Yes, of course," she laughed.

"Why haven't you told us about her before?" Mallkin demanded.

"Would you have believed me?" Navadar asked, taking her by the waist and pulling her closer.

"No, not in the slightest!" they said in unison, grinning ear to ear.

"Still, the daughter of the guardian, in a kingdom such as this one? A little rebellious of you, no?"

"Oh, because you're such the perfect child."

"But Randall was born with those mental deficiencies, Navadar; you can't blame the poor fellow..."

Randall knocked himself into Mallkin as they all laughed. She listened to her own sounds of amusement, surprised to find that she was enjoying herself so much.

"What brings you to the kingdoms, then, Kiethara?" Mallkin asked. "I thought the guardians were not supposed to leave."

"I was kind of forced to," she said.

"Forced to?" Randall asked. "That's absurd. Who would do something as foolish as that?"

"Men from Nikkoi, that's who," Navadar said grimly.

"Nikkoi?" Mallkin repeated. "Of course, what else were we to expect from those people?"

"What do you mean?" Randall demanded. "It's not like you were walking around, explaining to people how you just knew that someday the trash from Nikkoi would kidnap the guardian's daughter..."

"Shut up, Randall."

"Don't you two go spreading this around," Navadar warned.

"Don't worry, the princess's secret is safe with us," they promised.

"Princess?" she asked.

"Yes, we're tired of Princess Trinnia the Hag bossing us around all the time. We dun you the new princess, Kiethara," Mallkin proclaimed.

"At least you don't rip people's heads off," Randall added.

**CHAPTER 27**

**UNEXPECTED**

Kiethara opened her eyes.

Sunlight temporarily blinded her as it streamed in through the two windows on either side of her. She yawned and stretched, lavishing in a deep, steady breath. She could finally breathe again and she loved the feeling. They had arrived home late last night, after having what she considered being one of the most memorable evenings she had ever experienced, laughing to the point of tears with Navadar, Mallkin, and Randall. She couldn't remember a time where she had laughed so much and so hard in her life.

Kiethara vaguely remembered Tina undressing her before she had collapsed onto the bed, falling to sleep before her head had hit the plush pillow. Now instead she wore a silk nightgown, the material caressing her skin in the coolest of touches. It was as soft and as smooth the surface of a calm lake.

With a sigh she pulled herself up into a sitting position. She didn't really want to get up. Was anyone expecting her, anyway? Nobody would miss her in the slightest if she slept for a few more hours...

Her murky thoughts finally gave way to what was expected of her today.

Navadar was bringing her back to the forest! She was going home. After what felt like weeks of torture, innumerable physical and mental blows, and an adventure of a life time that she had no desire to repeat, it was finally time to end the journey and begin a new one. She had gotten her wish granted, a bit darkly, but it was done. She had gotten to see and experience the kingdoms. Many things had a new meaning to her now. Everything these past several days had been far too real. It was not like the forest. In the forest, there was a peace that could not be found here, a sense of timelessness that melted some of the days away into nothing. The days here had crawled by with no end, dragging her lower and lower into what had seemed, at first, a hopeless situation. How it had all started, what she had gone through, and how it was ending now was so...

Unexpected.

A perfect way to describe it, if anything. Goodness, she could not wait to tell Aaron everything that had happened. She had so many questions bouncing around in her head and she knew with all her heart that Aaron would have the answers ready for her. How would he explain it? What would his reaction be? She couldn't imagine how he would act when she finally arrived home. Nothing this exciting had ever happened to her before. Nothing this terrifying had ever threatened the forest so badly. This was the first time he had not been there for her; the first time she could not feel his presence. She craved for it.

The sooner she would get up, the sooner this would all be underway.

She made her way over to the desk, where her garments were folded up neatly. She was so grateful to change back into her old, familiar clothes. She refused to wear that corset and gown ever again. It was nice and it was pretty, but she needed real clothes on her back.

As she got dressed, she let her mind daydream about the events to follow. For one, she would be alone with Navadar for hours on end. They probably would not reach the forest until tomorrow; the thought of being alone with him for that long made her stomach turn. More importantly, there would be no one else to watch.

And after everything that Navadar had done for her, there was no possible way Aaron could treat him with any type of regret. Navadar had saved her life for the second time now. There was no possible way that her boy had not earned himself some merit.

It seemed that, after everything that had happened, the pieces were finally starting to come together.

Of course, she did not forget the nightmare that still lurked in the shadows. Gandador was still there, ever present in her life, watching and waiting for his perfect moment to strike. Or maybe he had attached already, and the only thing she would be returning to was a charred remain of what she was worth.

With a small shake of her head, Kiethara combed her fingers through her hair and exited, for the last time, her room in Redawn.

She had made her way down the staircase and was about to turn into the dining room when she heard them. Navadar and Trinnia's voices were barely audible. Instead of going in to the dining room door, she continued slowly down the hallway until she reached a door that had been left only slightly ajar, leaving only a crack between itself and the door frame.

"I'm taking her back today. Why?" Navadar's voice asked.

"Curiosity. We cannot deny the stir her presence has been causing..." Trinnia said.

"Oh?"

"Rumors, you know. Nothing nice, either. Navadar, is it true she punched someone?" Trinnia's voice sounded eager, not at all concerned for Kiethara's well-being.

Navadar remained silent.

"Really, Navadar, we both know—"

"I'll take care of it, all right?" His voice sounded impatient. "Don't worry about it, please."

"Oh, I won't," she replied, her voice almost a purr. Kiethara felt her stomach drop, for some reason.

"I won't be long," Navadar promised. "A few days, at the most."

"I'll be waiting."

Kiethara couldn't take it anymore.

She opened the door soundlessly. Navadar's back was to her, but Trinnia was facing her. Trinnia's eyes flickered up...or had that been her imagination? When Kiethara looked harder, Trinnia was focused solely on Navadar, and not the door.

"Well, Trinnia—"

Trinnia leaned forward and kissed him.

_Ba-Dump_.

Had time slowed down? Had she always been able to hear her own heartbeat? It seemed each beat lasted an eternity, as if everything around her had frozen.

Everything besides her heart.

Oh, no, her heart refused to stop. Her thoughts were frozen, her breathing stilled, and the picture in front of her seemed permanently burned into her unblinking eyes...yet her heart did not freeze. It raced ahead of it all, feeling the emotions her brain hadn't yet registered.

_Ba-Dump_.

See, her heart had already found what was lying there. What the future held for her now. Her heart had already embraced it, as though it were surrendering respectfully to some stronger foe. On the other hand, every other inch of her being was still lost in the image before her eyes. It was avoiding what it would eventually have to find; a wasted effort.

_Ba-Dump_.

Because Kiethara knew what her heart knew. She knew what everything else was cringing away from. Everything else, unfortunately, cowered away from the prospect of pain. But her heart, by itself, was accepting the inevitable.

Now it was time to move.

_Ba-Dump_.

How much time had passed? Four, five seconds? That was how long it took her body to catch up with her heart, which was still racing ahead.

Kiethara gasped in the doorway; her navy blue eyes wide and her mouth opened in a shocked _O_.

Navadar let out a muffled cry of surprise and pushed Trinnia away. He turned towards Kiethara, his forest green eyes no longer sparkling, but wide with shock and horror. It was as though he couldn't believe that she was there!

Kiethara twitched her finger, tensed her knees, ready to find an escape. She always had before.

"Kiethara!" Navadar gasped. He opened his mouth again.

But she was already out the door.

Her bare feet hardly made any noise at all as they sprinted down the hall, around the stairs, and through the front door. She heard noises behind her, but she tuned it out along with the rest of the babble issuing from the streets, from the kingdom. She paused on the porch for only a heartbeat, and then took off towards the sea to her right.

She saw the expressions of outrage the crowds shot at her as she ran by, but she did not hear their cried of irritation. She was too focused on pushing her feet off the cobblestone as hard as she could towards the glistening sea, which had never seemed this far away before. The people were thick, and she felt like she was hardly making progress as she skirted around women, children, and venders.

It took what seemed to be a million heartbeats until she finally reached the docks, which were not nearly as crowded as the streets were.

She took off.

Her feet pounded against the smooth wood as she ran along them, not out to sea, but to the north. She was going so fast that for a moment, just a moment, she thought she was flying again. But that fantasy was gone as soon as her feet made contact with the ground again.

_Ba-Dump_.

Running was mind-numbing. Everything in her vision slowed, her world still seemed to be on mute and not a single thought but "escape" crossed her mind. She ran on, straight through a flock of seagulls that were lounging on the sunny dock. They scattered all around her with cries she could not hear. Her eyes watered as the wind whipped her in the face, pulling her hair back with its strong fingers. The air in the kingdoms was so thick that her lungs were soon burning with a fire she had never felt before. With a little more focus, she pushed herself past the pain, saving it for later...

Her focus was not on the sounds or the sights surrounding her, but on the pursuit of an escape, so she couldn't stop herself from running straight into Mallkin.

Kiethara did not just bump into him like some strange looking the wrong way as he crossed a busy pathway. She smacked into his chest at full speed, almost ricocheting herself off of him, but his hands instinctively shot forward and grabbed her.

Of course it was Mallkin. Everyone else so far had given her a wide berth, keeping their distance, unable to judge how much of a freak she truly was. He and his blond head had looked up at the last moment, recognized her, and hadn't really bothered to move. She had seen all this, but she had been working too hard on avoiding the motions of the world to maneuver her way around it.

_Ba-Dump_.

As soon as she hit him, everything came rushing back to her in one overpowering wave, as though she had been underwater and had just broke the surface. Her chest hurt, inside and out.

She inhaled sharply, eyes wide, as her mind and body sluggishly caught up with the rapid succession of events that was taking place. No surprise, her heart was still miles ahead of everything else, feeling aches that Kiethara had wanted to numb for as long a time as she could have.

"Kiethara!" Mallkin cried out in surprise. "What the..."

"Mallkin!" she wheezed, every breath burning. "I—"

"Here, calm down," he said with a laugh, straightening her up. "Playing hide-and-seek with Navadar? Because I have an excellent spot..."

Hide-and-seek? What in the world was he talking about?

"Mallkin," she gasped sharply. "I need to go."

Mallkin finally seemed to grasp the situation. His dark eyes lit up again and he scanned her face with a new, serious intensity that she didn't think he was capable of.

"What's wrong, princess?"

"Have to"—gasp—"go."

"Why? What's going on?"

"I don't have time," she huffed, looking him straight in the eye. "I need to go!"

_Ba-Dump_.

He finally seemed to receive the message that she did not have the breath to speak. She had to go, to move, to escape before something she did not want to consider happened...

Then she heard Navadar.

He was yelling her name; she flinched in response to his voice. A quick glance over her shoulder told her everything she needed to know. He was still a ways back, trying to push through the sea of people, but apparently, he was still too self-conscious to barrel through them as she had.

Kiethara struggled to free herself from Mallkin's grip, but he took hold of her wrists tightly. Why was he doing this?

"Let me go!" she cried, twisting her wrists.

"I will," he said in a tone that made her freeze. "As long as you promise me this: Turn left at the crossing over there and go straight until you spot a small, blue tent. Go in there and tell the man you are just looking and wait for me there until I catch up with you. When I get there, you must tell me what happened. I'll hold Navadar up in the meantime. Understand?"

She nodded.

_Ba-Dump_.

She wretched her hands from him and dashed towards the crossing he had pointed out and turned left. She saw the tent he had been describing, a small, discrete thing that was selling ribbon. She saw it, and then she ran right past it.

She felt no remorse for lying to Mallkin. She did not feel bad as she imagined him standing in the tent, alone, wondering what had happened to her. He was such a free-spirited boy; she would not let his life become entangled with her own like Navadar's was. No, she did not want anything to do with these people anymore.

Logically, it was the right thing to do, anyway. Well, no, she couldn't justify it like that. What was she doing? Running away. Was running away her most sensible option? What if she had stayed, what if she had listened to his pathetic explanation? Did she really want to be lied to even further, though?

Her thoughts were spiraling in senseless directions. She needed to listen to something other than her mind.

Like her heart.

_Ba-Dump_.

Her heart only told her two words. It spoke them blunt and outright; it held nothing back. It was not afraid of hurting itself or anyone around it. The knife it held was not used for self-defense, but more on the lines of self-sacrifice. Perhaps more on the lines of suicide, she thought to herself, but maybe that was a little dramatic. But was the selfless nobility her heart was embracing really any better? As though it was so perfect and so brave for telling her what she didn't want to know! No matter what either of them labeled it, the message was still clear, spoken to the rhythm of each frantic beat:

_It's over_.

"It" stood for everything. "It" stood for the close relationship she had with Navadar. Every kiss and every touch, which had once stood as promises, now were only there as blurry memories. Painful reminders of how she had let him take advantage of her naïve nature and clueless position in this world. He was a double-faced, hypocritical traitor, but for some reason, Kiethara could not summon up the reasonable anger to really blame him. Really, how could she blame him when he had all this, and she had nothing?

"It" stood for the connection she had had with the world outside the forest. She would no longer here any news or information about the kingdoms, no longer listen to old legends of their past. She no longer had a friend, only a mentor and a dozen enemies. The next time this happened, the next time she was beaten and dragged through the dirt, there would be no one to save her. The reality of that sent her into an even deeper depression.

"It" stood for the hope that his presence had given her. Gandador and Navadar had entered her life nearly at the same time. She had never experienced one without the other. She would not have minded if she had only been left with Navadar, not at all! But, as her luck always dictated, the situation was reversed, and it was not nearly as sweet. Her only visitor would be Gandador, her only friend her foe. That, too, sent chills of despair coursing through every inch of her body. Everywhere, that is, except for her heart.

Ba-Dump.

Kiethara could hardly keep this running up. Every other step she took had her tripping over her feet. She felt as though there was a knife shoved between her ribs, as though her lungs had stopped working a long time ago. People yelled at her, children pointed, and barrels were quickly pulled out of her way before she could spill their continents.

But of course, her heart was not tired, even though, at the rate it was beating, she figured it was about to explode. Despite this, it wasn't ready to stop yet, and it urged her on as though it controlled her. None of her other muscles could work as well.

Kiethara had to stop! Her vision was blurred; she could hardly see the deserted alleyway before her. She brought her hands up to her face and found tears.

_Ba-Dump_.

These were her heart's tears. These were her tears. It made her realize, finally, that her heart and she were the same person, even though they held such different things. But the strength in her heart was her strength, and the power in her body was the power in her heart. As her tears proved, though, it was so much more than that.

It was her weakness. Just like it had been her mother's weakness. Maybe it really was a curse, to have a heart. It had certainly been her mother's downfall.

Her heart remained to beat inside her breast, reminding her of its presence, of the destruction it could wrought. It would only stop when she did. They could only be silenced together.

_Ba-Dump_.

**CHAPTER 28**

**HOPE**

Thrice accurse this forsaken kingdom!

Kiethara did not know how long she had been wandering the streets. Her feet were bloody and bruised, her hair tangled, and her white dress was already dirty, even though it had been washed not too long ago. On top of that, she was finding it extremely difficult to remain inconspicuous. These people of Redawn were far too observant for their own good. She felt their eyes and whispers following her into the shadows that she tried not to stray from.

She was angry; however, her frustration was not a direct result from them. The truth was that she was lost. She had absolutely no idea where she was. She had woken up this morning, sore, confused, in an alleyway that she must have fallen asleep in the night before. It had not been a pleasant awakening, either. For some reason, she had sent a stray cat into a fury and had been roused by a flurry of claws grazing over her skin.

That had not been too long ago; the scratches in her skin were still very pink and raw. She pushed her legs forward, trying to keep her path straight as much as she could, but it was difficult. Sometimes the streets gave her no option but to turn and twice she stopped, swearing that she had passed a certain house before and wondering if she was just traveling in circles. But what else could she do? It wasn't like Nikkoi, where she could just follow the black stone wall that trimmed its perimeter. Kithara could not even see Redawn's outer wall, and it had been at least three times as high! This kingdom brought on a whole new meaning of the word _lost_. She wouldn't even be able to find her way back to Navadar if she wanted to. It was hopeless.

And honestly, she couldn't keep this senseless wandering up for much longer.

Only a few days ago had she fainted from dehydration and once again her throat was burning with a passion! Her need for water overshadowed her desire for food, but it could not make her exhaustion fade into the background. Her head throbbed with each cry of a merchant and she let out a ragged cough every few minutes. Oh, how she longed for the pure, clean air of the forest! This was too much to handle.

An odd memory struck her then, one that she had not thought of in a long time.

She remembered when Aaron had told her the legend of a different guardian, Pracilzee. She had never asked for the end of the legend. Aaron had ended the tale with the guardian running away, but the forest was still alive. Kiethara now understood the end of that story without being told it. If she had come here on her own free will, she would have left ages ago.

With a sigh, she leaned against a shadowed wall, watching the passerby's and taking in her surroundings. One thing she did notice was that the houses were getting slightly smaller. Not to be mistaken for poor, of course—even the trash here was of more value than the royalty in Nikkoi. Now, the houses could not be mistaken for mansions, more two-story and one-story than anything else. The streets were a little narrower and the tents a bit less grand, but the subtle shabbiness only helped her blend in a little better. Kiethara, personally, found this setting a little more charming. What with the vines creeping up of the sides of the houses and random patches of dirt giving way to dandelions between cobblestones...it was rather homey.

But she couldn't be distracted by what was pleasing to the eye. She had received her full in that and had learned much for her mistake. Nothing these days was as it appeared. Her mother had learned the same harsh lesson, one that had cost her her life.

And here was her daughter, making the same—yet a little less dramatic—mistake! Maybe Kiethara was overreacting. She should save this type of thinking until she was safely in the forest to wallow about it. If she reached the forest, that is.

She needed to focus; she needed to think logically. Logically, she could not reach the forest with what she had now. She would not make it there alive without some supply of water and sustenance. Sure, Navadar seemed to make it to the forest in no time at all, but he had a horse, for one, and directions. She, on the other hand, was never _ever_ asking for directions again, and wasn't sure if it would be wise to beg for any resources. If only she could fly...

There had been a river on the way here from Nikkoi! When she had been captured as a slave, the lady had washed her in it. That should be her first land mark, and a perfect source of water. She just needed someone to point her in the right direction before she could set off! Excitement coursed through her as she pictured her new plan.

It simmered down as she thought about it. No. She was not asking for directions. The last time she had made that mistake, she had been rewarded with hours in a cage...

But she was in Redawn, after all. True, some of the people here looked at her with a disgusted expression, but there were just as many happy and helpful-looking people here. Like the guards at the gate.

Oh, but she did have another problem. She couldn't even find her way out of the kingdom!

Now there was a question she couldn't ask someone. Asking that would make it crystal clear that she did not belong here, that she was hopelessly misplaced and vulnerable. She did not want to give anyone the chance to take advantage of that. Not that she would let them.

So, in the end, all she could really do was keep walking.

She set off again, twisting and turning through the skinny roads. It would have been quite a dull task if she didn't find her surroundings so interesting. Each block brought a new scene, with lively new characters that were laughing and smiling. Some of them stopped and began to whisper when they saw her, others didn't seem to care, and some didn't even notice. It made her feel strangely lonely.

The tents and tables, which were filled with food, clothes, plant life, and more, were just as interesting, and they didn't whisper back.

She turned onto a street which was twice as wide as any of the others she had walked in the past hour. She timidly turned left, sniffing at the fresh new waves of aromas in the air. It smelt like freshly baked bread, a smell that she had come to enjoy. Her mouth watered and her stomach rumbled.

One particular tent caught her eye. It was rather large, a bright royal red, with its flaps opened as wide as they would go. Tables were lined with flowers, herbs, and the most beautiful pieces of artwork that she had ever seen. Piled on the floor next to the tables, laid out on a blanket, was a pile of clothes. It was there that something caught her eye—an olive green cloak that lay on top.

With her head bowed, she quickly crossed the street. She made her way towards the shadows of the tent, staring at the object on the ground. She could see that it was perfect. It was long, with lengthy sleeves that would hide her crystals and a hood to cover her head. It looked warm, too, something that would make her nights much more comfortable and, if she managed to hold on to it, replace her other blanket she had lost for the winter.

"Find anything interesting?" a voice called out.

She raised her head up. There, on the doorstep of a round, one-story cottage was an old man. He wore a deep purple tunic that trailed down to his feet, a brown leather belt holding it in place. A mat of white hair covered his head, with a short beard to match. He had dark, dark black eyes, but they held certain warmth to them that brightened when he smiled at her.

"Um, no, I'm sorry," Kiethara stammered. She didn't have any money.

The old man continued to smile at her, though his eyes seemed to be gazing at her with a scrutiny that made her squirm. He was searching her face as though he was trying to see if he recognized her, but she knew she had never seen this man before.

"Quite all right. What's your name?" he asked.

What was the point in not telling him? She had already told so many people, people she had thought she could trust.

"Kiethara."

"Kiethara," he repeated slowly, and then his smile widened. "Well, it's a pleasure. My name is Odarick. Now, I was just about to have a spot of lunch, and you look like you could use a good meal. Won't you join me?"

Lunch? She felt her stomach rumble again. Ah, but could she trust him? Could she afford not to?

He did not pressure her for an answer as she stood there for a good minute, a raging debate taking place inside her head.

"A-all right," she replied finally. Odarick stood aside and beckoned her to come inside.

His house was just as charming on the inside as it had been on the outside. They walked directly into a small kitchen, which was cramped, but not overbearingly so. Counters and a wash bin were to her left, and the rest of the space was taken up by a bookshelf and a round wooden table. There was only one other door.

"Sit, please," Odarick said.

Kiethara sat herself in one of the three chairs surrounding the table. She chose the one closest to the door, just in case.

After a few minutes, Odarick sat down at the table himself, placing a plate laden with slices of bread, steaming vegetables, and beans. He also placed a pitcher of water on the table, filling up a glass for her. He himself had only a glass of water before him.

"Thank you," Kiethara said fervently, taking a long draft of water.

When she raised her eyes again the old man was still staring at her with that strange intensity. She could see something in his eyes, something that gave off the sense of wisdom. She took a mouthful of beans.

"So, what brings you to the kingdoms, Miss Kiethara?" he asked.

She gasped, looking up quickly. He had asked that question as if...but that was impossible! How could he know she was the guardian? True, it wasn't hard to tell that she was not from Redawn, but to suggest that she was not from any kingdom...Navadar had promised to keep her true identity a secret! Not that she expected anything from him anymore, but how he could have told this man, she knew not.

"Don't look so worried!" Odarick said with an ancient laugh. "I'm not going to tell anyone. I only desired a chance to have a chat with the guardian. You and your forest are a legend! But your legend is not well known yet, is it?"

"How do you know?" she choked out.

"Well, I could tell you were a guardian from just looking at you. The legend of the forest has been told to me! The forest itself speaks its legends. Right now it's speaking the most recent of its tales, one involving your mother, if I'm correct? Although you were involved, were you not?"

"Yes," she whispered, amazed. "Yes, I was. It was the end of my mother's legend."

"And the beginning of yours," he finished.

"No," she disagreed. "I don't have a legend."

"You will," he said confidently. "Oh, don't you ever doubt that. Hope is what feeds every legend."

"Hope?" she repeated with a bitter laugh. ""I lost hope a long time ago. Hope is nonsense, that's what it is. I get closer and closer to failing my duty every day. I won't have a legend."

"Don't tell me you're here because you ran away?" Odarick asked.

"Ran away?" Kiethara repeated in an offended tone. "No, I'm not here by my free will. And it seems I can't leave by it, either."

"But who? I thought the forest wasn't under any threat."

Kiethara remembered the warning she had given Durga. People needed to know. Aaron might have scared Gandador so bad that he didn't show his face for a decade or so, but he had still been alive. Gandador had still been breathing, thinking, and plotting with everything he had left in his beating heart.

"Gandador, and others," she told him.

Odarick took a sip of water as though she had only commented on the weather.

"Figured so," he finally said. "My granddaughter guessed right as well. What else could the smoke have meant?"

Smoke? Ah, the fire! That had been so long ago it felt like another lifetime.

"Your granddaughter?" Kiethara asked, confused. She didn't figure him to have a family.

"Yes, Camella. A little too adventurous for her own good. I can never tell whether its bravery or foolishness! She has been dying to visit the forest, too. And now that I've met the guardian without her being here, she'll be jumping for a chance to meet you as well. You too are around the same age; I bet you'll get along fine."

"How did you see the smoke?" she asked, trying to get back on topic.

"We were traveling out of the kingdom, past Nikkoi, when we saw it a gray haze drifting towards the outer rim of the trees. We could smell it faintly too and we got alarmed, so we traveled back home."

"Why were you so far away from the kingdoms in the first place?" she wondered.

"We were down by the streams, making potions." he explained.

Kiethara blinked, thrown off for a moment. Potions? Her eyes narrowed, and then she stood.

"Your story was acceptable until there, sir. You must have forgotten that you live in Redawn. You don't use magic."

Odarick put his hands up as though he were surrendering to her. His expression was surprisingly controlled.

"My granddaughter and I are not originally from this kingdom," he said calmly.

"Then why would you move to this kingdom?" Kiethara challenged.

"For this area, Nikkoi did not seem fit for us," he answered.

"Us? This supposed granddaughter of yours? I'm sorry, but you story is not very believable and I am not very gullible."

"And it's a blessing you're not! The forest would be long gone if that was a strong trait of yours. Now, please sit."

Slowly, Kiethara sat back down.

"Hear, hear, see? I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I had permanently offended the guardian. I apologize, and hopefully you'll forgive me."

"You talk as though I'm some greater being," Kiethara pointed out, uncomfortable. "I'm not. I have weaknesses just as everyone else does."

"Like what?"

"Well, why do you think I'm here in the first place?!" she asked, raising her voice. Then she paused. "My short temper. My pride. The fact that all of my mistakes seem to be dripping in ignorance."

Odarick smiled, as though she had amused him. "You're quite clever with your words."

Kiethara let her head fall into her hands.

"You're completely missing the point."

"What is your point, then?" he asked politely. She looked up.

"My point is that I'm weak. I'm here because I'm weak. I can't stand the way you seem to look up to me, not that I don't appreciate it, but I want you to understand. You will not find a happy ending in me. Please stop looking to the skies with misplaced faith in me!"

Odarick leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, and appraised her with an unfathomable expression.

"You tell me you have no hope. Now you have no faith."

"I have faith," she said. "Hope and faith are two very different things."

"How?"

Kiethara gritted her teeth. Was he going to ask her to explain everything she said?

"Hope is a mere echo of faith. The definition of faith is to have an unbreakable trust in something. Hope is a whimsical feeling that half the time has no place in reality. Both can be broken, yes, but one is ten times stronger than the other."

"Who do you have faith in?" he asked.

"That I will keep to myself," Kiethara said. She didn't want him to know the only person she had faith in was a mere spirit.

He was silent for a moment, taking another sip of water. "How come you cannot leave here on your own free will?" he asked suddenly.

"I don't have a map," she answered bitterly. He laughed.

"This kingdom is vast, and I am alone. I can't even find the outer walls," she sighed.

"Why don't you fly? Surely the guardian can perform amazing magic such as that?"

"Anyone can fly," she told him, puzzled.

"That is not true," he argued. "You need to have an outstanding amount of magic in order to do that. Not to mention the great skill and practice it requires. Some people don't have the time to make one potion from the forest or eat one of its fruits in order to gain a little magic, let alone store enough of it to go and fly."

Ah. So that was how other people received their magic. Aaron had not been quite clear on that point.

"But this is besides my point. You still haven't answered my question." Odarick reminded.

"I don't have any magic," she said glumly, lifting up her arm to show him her dead crystals.

"How is that possible?" he gasped, surprised.

"I can run dry, too, I guess. I just don't have to...'eat the forest's fruit', as you have to."

"That's not what I meant," he continued. "How did this happen to you? Who could have done something like this?"

"Four men. Black jewel," she sighed. She was tired of repeating herself.

Odarick looked at her with the same intense expression. He frowned slightly.

"From our conversation, I have only drawn one conclusion," he said at last.

"Oh?"

"You, my dear, have had to grow up much sooner than you should have."

That was not what she had been expecting. Well, what should she make of that? She knew she did not act like the normal girl, but did that really make her more mature? Perhaps a little more responsible? She couldn't be the only one suffering, the only one making life changing decisions in a matter of seconds...

"I think, however, I have something that could help. It's not much, but it's something."

Odarick got up from his table and walked to a wooden cabinet. He opened the door and began shuffling through its continents, pushing aside large bottles and jars. Kiethara tensed, every muscle ready to spring.

When he turned back around, she couldn't believe her eyes. He was holding a bottle that was filled to the brim with snow white, sparkling liquid. It looked so much like the bottles she had back in the forest that her stomach hurt.

"Drink it," he ordered, holding it out to her. She swatted his hand away.

"Who do you think you are?" she demanded.

"I swear to you that I will not harm you," he said sincerely. "This potion will return to you some magic, although not nearly as much as you are accustomed to. Hopefully, it will help you on your journey home."

Kiethara eyed the bottle with interest. Could he really be telling her the truth? He had to be. She could sense it. And what did she have to lose? Absolutely nothing, that was what.

She took the bottle, uncorked it, and breathed in the potions aroma. A million sounds and sensations came rushing to her with memories of the forest, of magic. This was really it!

Kiethara took one last breath and brought the potion to her lips.

It was as though she was gulping down the pure air of the forest. It was tasteless, but somehow she could feel its spark on her tongue, a substance so light that she barely felt it run down her throat. It was deliciously cool.

She pulled the empty bottle away from her lips. Her navy blue eyes were wide and her mouth was still open as she watched her bracelets, unmoving, unblinking. The crystals in them glowed brightly for an instant, and then gave way to a soft, almost unnoticeable glow.

Kiethara stood up so fast her chair shot out from underneath her. She held her arms out in front of her, her face frozen in a mask of shock. She felt as though a giant weight had been lifted from her shoulders, a feeling that made her want to cry in joy and exhilaration.

"Hah!" Kiethara cried joyfully. "They're back! Look! They're back!"

Odarick laughed heartily. "Now you look five years younger."

She hardly heard him as she flexed her fingers, itching to burst out of the house and jump into the air.

"A word of caution, Miss Kiethara. I know it might feel like much, but trust me when I say this is nothing compared to what you most usually have. For example, you cannot fly with the amount I have given you. Once it's gone, I cannot help you. At least, not in that way. There are a few more things I can offer. If you'll excuse me..."

Kiethara watched him leave with a huge smile of gratitude on her face. She didn't deserve any of his help. If only she could return the favor, somehow. But what could she do for him? She did not have anything and she felt guilty, knowing she would accept anything else he would offer because she needed it. She felt selfish, but justified in her reasons.

Everything needed a reason. She had believed that before and she still believed it now.

Odarick walked back in, holding—to her surprise—the olive green robe she had been staring at earlier. He also held a brown sack with a single strap attached to it.

He turned towards the cabinets without a word to her, rummaging through them. After a few minutes he turned back around and she noticed that the bag was considerably larger than it had been.

"Here," he said, holding them out. "I understand these will come in handy, especially since your bracelets are a bit more noticeable now. This pack has everything you need for a journey to Nikkoi."

"Nikkoi?" she asked in surprise.

"Yes, it's necessary. You cannot carry with you enough supplies to reach the forest, so you will have to stop there. Listen to me now: once you reach Nikkoi, cut through the kingdom and exit out the west side. Keep going west, do not stop, do not turn, and you will reach the forest. I myself will assist you out of this kingdom."

"Thank you," she whispered, overcome with gratitude.

"You're very welcome, my dear," he said with a smile. "Now come with me, but put these on first."

She took the robe from his hand and slipped it on. Unfortunately, it did not have a belt, so she could not tie it in the front; instead, it hung loose, exposing her front. At least it came with a hood, which she immediately pulled up.

She took the bag and slung it over her shoulders. She may be a day late, but she was finally setting off towards the forest.

Odarick and Kiethara walked out of the door and into the sunlight. He led her to the back of his house, where a cart was tethered to a horse.

"After you," he said, helping her up onto the wooden bench that had been built in there. He sat down next to her, and they were off.

It took a long time to reach the gate; by the time she finally spotted the wall, the sun had already begun its descent.

At last, they exited Redawn.

"Well, Miss Kiethara, this is where we must part, I'm afraid. Stay young, and stay wise." She answered with a small smile.

She jumped out of the cart and onto the grassy ground. She turned to watch him leave. Once he had disappeared behind the golden wall, she turned her back to Redawn for what she hoped was the last time.

"Kiethara?" Navadar's voice called out from behind.

It seemed impossible, however, for her to turn her back on her problems.
**CHAPTER 29**

**FADED**

Kiethara froze, every muscle tense, her heart stuttering in her chest. Her breath caught and her mouth opened slightly, as though waiting for the right words to find their way out. Her mind was blank, though, and no words managed to slip themselves out from between her pale lips.

Again, she was unnaturally aware of the furious pounding of her heart. How loud it was! But as she listened more intensely, it whispered nothing to her. It only sped up in surprise, in the typical, normal response it had to an unexpected event. There was no emotion behind the motion, no blush on her cheeks and no frantic thoughts running through her mind. A cold calm had taken over her state of being. Not a single rash reaction came out of her, which surprised her even further. She took hold of this condition, letting it settle in as she made sure her expression was blank. Not that it was necessary, for her back was turned to him, and she planned to keep it that way.

Suddenly, the image of Navadar and Trinnia was clear in her mind. She saw it, but she had no reaction except for blank recognition of what it meant. She couldn't even muster up a feeling of anger, even though that's what she wanted to feel. Sadness did not creep upon her, nor prick at her eyes or constrict her throat. It was all clear, calm, and for once in her life, nothing was fogged by foolish, misleading emotion.

Yet in the far corner of her mind, there lay a subtle twinge of fear. Her long hair twitched in the slightest of breezes. The fact that she could not feel anything unnerved her. Everything seemed to be numbed, as though all the feeling she had ever had for this boy had...

Faded.

"Kiethara?" he asked again in a tentative voice. Well, he certainly did have a reason to be cautious. It was unnecessary though. She remained silent.

"Please listen to me," he pleaded. "You can't run off like that. You could get hurt, or lost."

Really? It was a bit late to be telling her that. She didn't break her silence to point that out, though.

"That was a dangerous, rash move that made you far from inconspicuous."

Yes, insult her. Maybe that would drag out the bit of anger she needed.

"Look," he continued. "You didn't see what you thought you saw."

"Oh," Kiethara finally said, now that he had finally addressed it. "I understood what I saw, Navadar. You don't have to draw me a picture."

Her voice was calm, controlled, and hid every weakness, to her immense delight. She did not want him to know what emotions she felt. She only wanted him to listen to her harsh, bitter words, and be done with it.

Navadar was silent for a long moment, but Kiethara did not turn to read his expression.

"I didn't, Kiethara," he finally managed. "Trinnia kissed me, but I did naught to her!"

"Navadar," she repeated calmly. "I understand. You don't need to deny yourself anything."

She did understand, for it had just dawned on her.

She did not belong here. Not in person, not in thought, and not in memory. She only belonged in their legends, and nothing else. Navadar had a real life here, with good blood, promising wealth, and a chance for a family of his own. Here, he was not placed under any threat, or stressed with a destined responsibility. She could give him nothing, only take away from what she had. Trinnia could—and would—give him what he needed. Kiethara knew that she must step down. She had never been one for competition, anyway.

Her reasons were logical, but she could feel something inside her begin to whine in protest.

"What are you talking about?" He sounded appalled. "You understand what, exactly?"

"That I must step aside. This is not where I belong, and I had no right to get involved."

"There...I mean..." he spluttered incoherently. She smiled sadly.

"I understand."

"There's nothing to understand! There isn't anything—"

"Navadar, I'm not a fool," she interrupted. "You've known Trinnia longer than you have known me. You see her every single day, without having to travel miles, and without the fear of an attack hanging over your head!"

"But I don't love Trinnia! I love you—everything about you—and I'm hurt that you don't believe me! Don't deprive me of my pride, or take away my dignity, please!" he said, raising his voice.

Kiethara clenched her teeth. Did he think that he could order her around like an animal? That he had a right to yell at her for humbling him?

"Trinnia is perfect for you. Surely you realize this?" she asked, trying to keep the control in her voice. Her resolve was wavering.

"How?" he demanded. "Where do you see that?!"

"What do you think I can do for you?!" she demanded back. "Every time you visit, I tell you that you could get killed! Do you want us to be together for the rest of our lives? You would have to leave your kingdom! Would you like a family? Your child has to share the same fate that I do! They will be destined to guard the forest for every minute of their life!"

Navadar was silent.

"I'm not your princess, Navadar. I'm not going to be your precious little adventure. I can promise you now; it won't have a happy ending."

Silence.

"Trinnia will match all of your needs. With her, you'll have everything you want. Find someone who can give you that, Navadar."

"That's not what I want," he said hoarsely.

"Then it's time to stop being selfish. Make your final heroic decision, and make it right, because it's time to end this fantasy of yours. You can't have both of us, and I'm done being played with."

"I don't want both! I'm not—"

"Listen," she said, cutting him off. "I didn't come here to be ridiculed, humiliated, or betrayed. I didn't come here on my own free will, actually. And since I've been here, all of those things have degraded me. I don't need to be lied to as well."

"I'm not lying! You—"

"Forgive me if I don't believe you," she said in a calm voice.

"Kiethara, you're being ridiculous!" he yelled again.

"Good-bye, Navadar," she tried to say, but her voice sounded strangely high pitched.

Kiethara took off.

For a while, there was only the sound of her bare feet pounding against the grass, the swish of her new garment, and the thud of her sack against her side. Her hood had fallen off when she had ridden in the cart with Odarick—it now streamed out behind her, flapping in the wind. Darkness settled around her, along with an eerie silence. The muffled sounds of Redawn were fading away as she pushed herself forward. Above her, the stars twinkled lightly and, to her happiness, the moon shone as well. It was only a sliver, but she so rarely saw it in the forest.

After a while Kiethara had to slow down, gasping for air. She waited until her breathing slowed and then held her breath to listen to her surroundings. To her relief, she heard nothing. So, he had decided not to follow her. She tried to tell herself that was exactly what she had wanted.

So, then, why did she feel so disappointed?

With a furious sigh, she swung the pack off of her shoulder. Cold, clumsy fingers undid the latch and poured out its continents.

Two water skins came out, half a dozen packages, and a blanket. She grabbed the blanket first and wrapped it around her. Too soon, winter would be upon her, and she could only be grateful for the material she owned now.

Kiethara peeked into some of the brown packages. They all contained food and, to her delight, he had not packed her any meat.

As she was shifting though the items, she found a piece of parchment. In a neat, tidy scrawl were directions.

After taking a gulp of water, Kiethara began to stuff everything back into the brown bag. She laid her head down upon it, pulling her blanket tighter around her. If she hurried, she could be back in the forest in a few days. That thought comforted her into sleep.

### ***

From her vantage point, she could almost see all of Nikkoi.

Hiking up these steep hills had not been easy. They had made her journey much more strenuous; it took all of her self-control to not chug down the little water that she had left. The cold air was already cutting at her throat and lungs. Above her, volumes clouds lazily churned in the sky

Despite this, these hills had failed to douse her spirits completely. Seeing these hills, at first, had actually raised them, for they had meant that she was traveling in the right direction. She had walked miles on flat grass, sinking into despair as darker thoughts told her she was lost. But she had found these hills and, as her piece of parchment read, Nikkoi laid in the heart of them.

While she looked down on Nikkoi, low between the high mounds and stretching up slightly on the sides of others, she reflected on how much it paled in comparison to Redawn. The stone wall here was a fraction in width and in height, not to mention that the tallest buildings inside the flimsy barrier looked quite pathetic. Kiethara wondered if Nikkoi had any royalty at all.

With a very, very deep breathe, she slowly descended towards the kingdom. She pulled her hood over her head, tucking all of her long hair into it. The last thing she needed was to run into that lady again and be recognized...

Only one cart passed her as she approached. She decided not to walk directly at the gate; instead, she went up against the stone wall. From what she saw, there were three guards and she knew she would not get past them without proof of who she was or what she was doing.

Well, not without her powers.

Kiethara closed her eyes. She had to turn invisible. Which meant she had to recall the feeling she had had when Navadar had caught her naked. When Gandador had caught them kissing. When Trinnia and Raynock had laughed at her during dinner. She brought these memories to the front of her mind and begged her powers to relent and obey her for this one time.

Kiethara opened her eyes and looked down on a very strange sight.

She had managed to turn invisible, yes, but only she and the guardian's garment turned invisible. If someone outside the kingdom turned and looked at where she stood, they would see an olive green robe and a brown, bulging sack floating above the ground.

Kiethara quickly tore them off, dropping them to the ground. What was she going to do? These items had been her saving grace and now she couldn't keep them?

But what if she put them under her garments? She picked up the robe and stuffed it underneath her dress, As soon as the white fabric covered the tattered green, it became invisible. Perfect! All she had to do was cram all of these items under her clothes and she would be fine.

Kiethara took one step forward and the brown bag became lose and fell to the ground, becoming visible.

Blast!

She needed to do something else. She tied her robe around her waist, under her dress, and tucked the two canteens into them as tightly as she could. She flattened the bag and put the strap around her neck, making sure, it, too, was underneath the dress's material. The directions she could keep in the bag, but unfortunately, there was really nothing she could do for the blanket. It was too big and too bulky—she needed to be as small as possible to slip through the crowd. With a deep feeling of remorse, she dropped it on the ground and turned away from it, silently padding towards the gate.

The guards looked utterly bored. It proved less of a challenge then she had figured to sneak past them. The gate was already opened, and they didn't even look up as she tiptoed past them.

Now, if she were to attempt this in Redawn, it would have been impossible. Even though these roads were a bit narrower, they did not hold the same magnitude of crowds. All she would have to do was avoid the marketplaces.

Kiethara slipped between two houses and crouched down, digging under her dress for the slip that contained the directions. She took it out and pressed it against the wall so no would notice it hanging in midair.

She had to leave at the west exit. She wouldn't be able to tell which exit that was until later, for the sun was currently dead center in the sky. She still had hours, which was perfect, for she had to scrounge up some more supplies. She stuffed the directions back into her bag and stood up, smoothing out the folds of her dress. Looking down to make sure she was covered, she walked out of the alley.

Her shoulder made contact with a rather hefty man who was carrying a barrel over his shoulder. She had not thought that a tap from her would have sent him stumbling, but apparently she had caught him off guard. He staggered sideways, the barrel slipping out of his hands and onto the ground, where it went rolling into the stable across the street, sending apples bouncing in haphazard directions.

Kiethara gasped and flung herself back into the alley that she had walked out of. Her heart was thumping so fast that she was surprised the man did not look directly at her. Instead, he was spinning wildly on the spot, scanning the streets with blood shot eyes. People passing by gave him a wide berth, some pointing, a few boys stealing apples off the ground.

It took the man along time to recover himself, but in the end he finally stocked off to retrieve his apples. While his back was turned, Kiethara quietly slipped out of the alleyway and into the street.

It took much of her focus to keep the sound of her breathing low. Being invisible was not all fun and games, as that incident had proved. If she wasn't careful, some crazy, demented woman would stuff her in a cage again.

Unfortunately, the best place to get supplies was, ironically, the marketplace. It was busy enough that stealing something would not go noticed and, if it did, there were enough people there for one of them to get blamed. She didn't like the idea, but it was necessary, and besides, she didn't feel like she owed these people anything anyway. With a suppressed sigh, she set out in search for such a place.

She was making slow progress, dodging anything solid. If she hadn't been concentrated so hard on whom she was near, she wouldn't have noticed him

Sinsenta stood tall in the crowd. A brown cloak swished softly as he swiftly strutted down the road, coming towards her. His appearance was alarming, due to many contributing factors.

His sleek black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, giving his tan, coarse face a stretched look about it. Sinsenta's eyes did not fail to shock her; one a watery blue while the other was a muddy brown. The atmosphere around him was impatient and angry, and without thinking twice about it she pushed herself up against the wall, despite the fact that she was invisible and he was feet away as he passed.

None of these characteristics were half as alarming as the last was.

The bottom of his face, mostly his chin, was severely scarred. It was mottled pink and brown, ugly in every aspect.

The injury she had unintentionally inflicted on Sinsenta had not come to mind in a long, long time, yet now she could clearly remember Sinsenta's face twisted in pain, flesh peeling and blood trickling down his chin. A scar for a scar, it seemed. She didn't feel any regret towards it—it actually made her smile. Now every time he saw his reflection, he would have to see her name carved into his skin. He would have to know that a fifteen year old girl defeated him that bad. It was nothing more than he deserved.

Kiethara began to follow him.

**CHAPTER 30**

**ANSWERS**

Sinsenta took a very quire path. As she desperately tried to avoid hitting or running into anything else, Kiethara began to wonder if he was just traveling in circles. Sinsenta was also frequently looking over his shoulder, as though he could sense that he was being followed. Or that he expected it. How many enemies did he have?

Kiethara didn't know why she was following him. It was not part of her plan; it would not help her return to the forest any faster. It had only been a sudden and unshakable impulse. It wasn't as though _he_ was going to help her; however, it would be fun to turn visible again just to see the look on his mangled face.

It was foolish and risky to be doing this, yet she could not force herself to stop. Maybe it was because she had recognized him when she had expected to see only strangers; maybe it was because her curiosity would eat her up if she did not satisfy it now.

Aaron's voice sounded in her head; she recalled it so well her stomach ached with homesickness again. He, no doubt, would have been furious if he knew what she was up to. He would be lecturing her, pointing out how her actions were juvenile and naïve. But something—her instinct, perhaps—was urging her to carry on. She was old enough and wise enough to make her own decisions. Anyway, Aaron wasn't here to stop her.

Sinsenta continued along his long, windy path, leading her into a rather poor area of the kingdom. It amused her to find out that Sinsenta wasn't rich. It seemed like his services to her father were a bit underappreciated, and the thought made her smile.

Again, he looked over his shoulder. Why was he so paranoid? She looked over her shoulder, too, but she didn't see anything suspicious. Of course, if people could see her, she would look more suspicious than Sinsenta did. He blended in with the dirty, dark men here perfectly.

Sinsenta finally slowed down at a corner and leaned against the nearest wall. He turned his head, gradually, in every direction, even up. It was smart of him, for humans rarely ever looked up. It was unnecessary, though, because no threat was found up there.

She herself carefully crossed the road and leaned against the same wall, eyeing Sinsenta. His eyes were annoyed and cautious and she was itching to find the reason behind their intimidating spark. Was he here because Gandador had sent him, or maybe because Gandador lived here himself? Her stomach flipped at that last possibility, but considering her environment, it didn't really surprise her.

After a few more minutes, Sinsenta heaved himself off the wall. She waited just a moment before quickly padded along after him, trying to keep her bare feet as silent as possible. He turned left and walked several paces, and then turned left again. If Kiethara had been keeping track correctly, she was positive they could have made it to the same street in half the time if they had gone a different route.

Sinsenta sauntered up to a dilapidated shack. It was wooden, though not built well, with musty windows. The roof above was missing several shingles. He stepped up to the doorstep and knocked six times.

Kiethara realized that if she wanted to follow him any further then she needed to be a lot closer. She quickly hurried up behind him, just as the door was opened by some unseen force. Sinsenta swiftly stepped inside, and it was all she could do to not touch Sinsenta or get hit by the closing door.

Now that she was a mere inch from Sinsenta's back, she hardly dared to breathe.

"Afternoon, Sinsenta," a rough voice from behind Kiethara wheezed.

Kiethara started, turning to see a shady figure leaning against the wall behind the door, as though he were deliberately hiding. Only a small ray of sunlight managed to filter its way in through the musty window, so the only details about him that she could make out was that he looked to be the same age as Raynock, and his face was heavily scarred.

"Afternoon," he said indifferently, not even sparing the man a quick glance. "He's here, correct?"

"Yes."

"Good, good," Sinsenta said. He walked towards the opposite wall, where there were two doors, and entered the door on the left.

He, unfortunately, did not open the door very wide. Kiethara compressed her body as much as she could, straying not a half inch from his back, but the door still nicked her foot. Sinsenta glanced over his shoulder, puzzled when the door hit resistance, but when he tried to close it again, the door swung shut without difficulty. Kiethara had dashed to the furthest corner in the room. With a silent sigh of relief, she looked up.

Her heart exploded; thumping so hard in her breast she brought her hands to her chest in alarm.

Gandador was sitting behind a desk in the middle of the roof, his harsh black eyes staring intently towards Sinsenta. Numerous candles littered the wooden surface, creating an eerie, flickering atmosphere in the windowless room. His arms were crossed and he was leaning casually back in his chair, as though already bored with the man before him. Sinsenta looked rather nervous; he bowed his head in respect and froze that way.

"Rise, Sinsenta," Gandador sighed in a rather impatient tone.

Sinsenta rose, wringing his hands like a small boy who had been caught doing something wrong and knew he was about to be punished for it.

"You're late," Gandador stated.

Sinsenta did not reply, but shuffled his feet and bowed his head again. It was clear that the man in front of him inspired a lot of fear.

"You're late, Sinsenta!" Gandador repeated, raising his voice.

"Forgive me," he mumbled. "I was delayed slightly."

"We're you followed?"

"No, I'm positive," Sinsenta replied, sounding a bit more confident.

"Good. Now what news do you bring with you today? Hopefully something we can both enjoy?"

"Well, yes..." Sinsenta replied hesitantly, sounding unsure.

"What is it?" Gandador asked, his voice sharp.

"Not to worry, sir. He's dead, but he didn't have it. A different man ran off with it, supposedly, and I couldn't catch him."

Gandador suddenly slammed his fist down on the desk, his expression livid.

"Do you understand the opportunity you've lost us?!" he said, his voice low, making the words twice as deadly.

"Yes, but I will find them. I swear it," Sinsenta said, bowing his head.

"Goodness knows you will," he said, crossing his arms again. "Even if you have to swim to the bottom of the sea."

Sinsenta paled as he raised his head. With the tip of his tongue he moistened his lips. His eyes kept darting to the door.

"Have you heard any more about her?" Gandador asked.

"Not much. The girl is definitely not in Nikkoi. I could visit the surrounding kingdoms, see if they've seen anything..."

Kiethara's stomach dropped. She felt sick, the room swaying before her. Gandador already knew she was not in the forest. Did that mean he had already burned it down? With that knowledge she was suddenly trapped, more lost than she had ever been before. Surely she would have felt it if something had happened to her forest...?

Wait...

Had not Gandador spoken something of changing motives? Her head had been so full that day, the revelation that he was her father driving everything else out of her mind. Aaron had told her that his intention of stealing her powers had been ludicrous, that her father was finally beginning to make unwise decisions. Maybe, then, he had not gone to the forest, he had not burned it down. That was the hope she clung to now, foolish, irrational hope...

"Yes, and do not delay. If you are able to find her, hold her there and send a messenger. Pay the man well and make sure he understands to get here as fast as he can. Give him your horse. We cannot continue anything until we find her, so you understand how much of an importance this is to me. Hopefully, that will drive you to act accordingly."

Kiethara let out a breath of relief. He had not mentioned anything about harming the forest.

Gandador's head whipped around so fast she hardly saw the movement. His black eyes bore into the corner, only feet from where she stood. Kiethara knew that if she had been standing in that exact spot and receiving that glare, her legs would have given out.

Sinsenta, on the other hand, did not seem to have heard. He was gazing at Gandador with a worried expression.

"Sir...?" he asked tentatively.

Gandador turned back to him, looking remarkably calm and controlled. He scanned Sinsenta with hard eyes, making his puppy-dog servant even more nervous with each passing moment.

"Start with Redawn," he told him, articulating each word slowly.

"Of course," Sinsenta said. He bowed his head and exited the room.

Kiethara wasted no time in her attack. She jumped forward, losing her invisibility, and wrapped her hands around his neck. Everything happened in a matter of seconds, the small movement leaving her breathing heavily, her crystals glowing menacingly in the gloom.

Gandador was not shaken by any of this. Quite the contrary; he nonchalantly uncrossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. She could not see his expression, but the pulse beneath her hands was not going much faster than per usual. Compared to hers, it was rather slow.

"Welcome, my daughter," Gandador said in a mocking tone. It sounded as though he were trying to suppress a smile.

"I...Don't call me that!" she stammered. Out of all the things she could have said, she didn't know why she decided to shout that. In her mind she had already gotten used to calling him her father, but when he spoke it aloud like that...It just wasn't right. It didn't sound natural.

"Why not?" he asked her. She didn't answer.

"Well, then, what title would you prefer?" he asked, his tone so serious that she was slightly taken aback. What was wrong with him?

"I would prefer if you would shut your mouth," she growled, her temper quickly flaring.

"Ah, yes, of course. You must be here for a reason. You haven't killed me yet, so you must still want something."

His words chilled her. She had not thought her attack through this far. Actually, she hadn't thought out any of this at all. She actually couldn't believe that she was here, with him, in this position. She was more powerful right at this moment than she had ever been. She could kill him.

Her hands tightened around his throat slightly. Could she do it?

"Child, do you honestly think you could strangle me in the time it would take me to get free of your grip?"

"Do you honestly think you could pry away my fingers if they were on fire?" she shot back.

"What do you want?" he sighed.

"Answers," she replied without thinking.

She had come here without a plan, without an idea, and certainly without thinking any action she had taken so far out. Things, however, were becoming a little clearer as her reasons caught up with her instincts.

It would be reasonable to kill him.

Then why was she asking for answers? And more importantly, answers to what? The last time she had checked, getting answers required asking questions first.

"I'm waiting," Gandador said coolly.

"Why have your intentions changed?" she blurted out.

"Hm, that's a good question," Gandador mused. "I suppose your friend Aaron told you that I was losing my mind?"

"Something along those lines," Kiethara said.

"I may have presented myself as a desperate fool," Gandador chuckled. "But I can assure you, I'm not. Is not every man guilty of possessing a trait that other men find detestable? All of us own the same traces of greed, hate, and anger. In no way whatsoever, though, can we be guilty for having some kind of dream or goal. In life, we must own some motive that drives us!

"At first, mine was to destroy the forest. I had enough resources made to keep me powerful with magic for years! There were doubts and risks in the plan, though. One day, I might run out of magic.

"So I began to think: what if I could have the power that the guardian had? What if there was a way to harness your blessed power? Then nothing could stop me and I could take the forest from the guardian. I would always have the certainty of power.

"After that thought had planted its roots in my brain, I began with the first step of my plan: to observe. That day we first met, that was what I had been doing above all else, though I still had not known how much I believed it myself. If I had had the opportunity to burn the forest down that day, I would have. But I didn't. With my observations, as well as Sinsenta's reports, and the knowledge I had gained from your mother, I had my answer. Everything pointed towards your crystals. I noticed that they brightened with any emotion, just as they had now. The stronger the emotion, the brighter they got. The fact may seem inconsequential, but I needed to know everything so I wouldn't accidentally kill you or break those charming bracelets. Everyone's magic is controlled by emotions, but with the guardian, it is taken to a whole new level. Every feeling they have dictates their power. If they feel angry, they burst into flames. Frightened, and the wind starts up. Happy, and the flowers begin to bloom at their feet. I have matched every power to every emotion. I have observed you closer than you've ever dreamed.

"Yet I have still not come up with a full solution to taking your powers. The secret lies in you crystals, I know that. If only they were around my wrists! First, they need to come off, but I fear they might go dead once the connection is lost. It might be impossible. I do not know."

Kiethara was silent as she contemplated this. Could it be possible? He had given her a much more detailed answer than she had expected. She imagined—with blood-chilling horror—Gandador standing over a burned kingdom with her gold bracelets wrapped around his thick wrists. No. Before she let that happen, she could kill herself. The power was much better lost to the world than placed in the wrong hands.

"What are your weaknesses?" she asked, partly to distract herself from the previous thought. She needed to take advantage of this situation.

Gandador laughed. "I should have known you would want to ask that question. A little juvenile, though."

"Just answer the question," she growled.

"My weaknesses? Hm, well, I suppose you could say greed is one of them. Although, from a different point of view, some could call it determination. I set my goals very high, you see."

Well, that didn't help her in the slightest. If only Gandador had a weakness like hers. A necklace; that was all it took to drain her of her power. No matter how many times she said it in her head, it never failed to amaze her.

But what if there was some object out there that could do that to him? Oh, she would cut off a limb to see his face when she held up some insignificant piece of finery and watched him drop to her feet, not a single drop of magic running through his blackened veins.

"Who else is working for you, other than Sinsenta?" she demanded.

"A few others," he replied.

"I want names," she ordered.

"Trike, and that's the only name that might affect you," said Gandador.

"Why?"

"He's the only one who can use magic with any reputable amount of skill, child," he sighed, his tone suggesting boredom.

"You and two others? That's it? That's all you have? I would have figured differently, considering all your greed and desire for authority," she mocked.

"Power does not come from numbers, and numbers is not what makes a threat a threat. In fact, not to seem arrogant, I see myself alone as quite a threat to you. Don't be so narrow-minded, please. I want my child to possess a little more clarity with these things."

Kiethara tightened her grip around his neck even more in frustration. His answers always seemed to insult her—she couldn't seem to install the necessary amount of fear to establish her authority in this conversation. Although, a fifteen year old girl trying to intimidate a grown man who had already committed murder had been a long shot, even she had to admit that.

And now she was out of questions. Her mind was blank and her mouth was dry. The answers she had received had not been satisfying in the slightest, and more importantly, they had not given her anything else to ask. It was as though he had made it that way on purpose. Sometimes, his cleverness impressed her to the point where she almost— _almost_ —admired it.

And now she didn't possess the strength to kill him. This was her golden opportunity; this was the moment that could end all of her problems. The forest would no longer have any threats against it. Her life would go back to the way it had been before it had shot off in this wild direction, where there had been no fear, no sorrow, no anger...

No love...

As soon as these things had come was as soon as they could leave. With any luck, it would not happen again. Not in her lifetime; however, she knew that all the luck in the world would not make her forget. She would always have the scars.

If only she could find the strength to kill him!

"Are those all the questions you wished to ask me?" he inquired in a nonchalant tone.

Kiethara bit her lip, racking her brain for a question that did not make her sound like an idiot child.

"I think—" she began, but she couldn't finish.

As soon as she had started talking, Gandador twisted around in his seat so fast that her fingers were pried off of his neck. In another mind-rattling moment, he was behind her.

Kiethara found herself suddenly airborne. Her back collided painfully with the wooden desk. Most of the candles fell and scattered on the floor, causing the room to go so dark that she could barely make out Gandador's outline as he held her down by the neck.

Gandador leaned down towards her, tightening his grip menacingly as she clawed at his hands, gasping for air.

"Did you honestly believe that you could get away with this? Were you truly foolish enough to place your life in my hands?" he asked in a terrifying whisper.

She didn't answer. She thrashed her legs, looking for purchase, but he brought his knee up and pressed his weight down harder.

"Now, why don't you explain to me just how you got to be in the kingdoms, eh?" he asked.

Kiethara didn't answer. Her navy blue eyes were wide, her breathing reduced to short gasps. He really was going to kill her. He had given up his absurd dream.

A cloud seemed to press over her eyes as her breath seemed to slip away.

"Very well, don't answer me. But mark my words, I will find out," he promised.

Gandador let go of her. Kiethara did not pause, she did not breath, and she did not ask him why. She took off, throwing open the door with a fierce bang, sprinting off into the street.

**CHAPTER 31**

**CONTROL**

Her endurance surprised even herself.

Kiethara had not stopped running since she had crashed her way out of Gandador's abode. Her heart was pounding as she sprinted her way through the streets of Nikkoi, barely remembering to check the sky to make sure that she was headed in the right direction.

She didn't quite know how she managed to get past the guards at the gate. They had gotten up to stop her, crying something she could not here, but something had blown all of them back, smacking them rather harshly into the stone wall. Something in her mind told her that it had been her, but Aaron had never taught her something like that before.

As soon as she cleared the kingdom, Kiethara pushed herself harder, refusing to look over her shoulder for fear of what she would see. All she wanted to do was put as much distance between her and that forsaken kingdom as possible. That focus helped guard her from everything else; the icy wind cutting through her lungs, the pains of protest coming from her legs and chest, and the violent pounding of her heart.

Of course, that focus could only take her so far.

Dusk had yet to fall when she fell into the tall grass, gasping. With shaking hands, she pulled her possessions out from under her dress, the canteens falling softly to the ground.

Only a little water could be heard sloshing inside one of them; she knew that the other one was empty.

Kiethara groaned, falling back onto her back. She should have spared her water, taken tinier sips than she had. She shouldn't have followed Sinsenta! What had she been thinking? What was she going to do without any supplies? To add insult to injury, it had all been pointless. She had learned practically nothing from her encounter with him, besides a few more worthless details on his insane plot to attempt to steal her much envied powers.

Well, there was no point in regretting her actions now. What was done was done, and nothing she did now would change the past. What she really needed was a plan, and she needed one fast.

For all she knew, Gandador could be following her as she lay here, wallowing in foolish self-pity. And if he did come, she would have to resort to her powers. Odarick had warned her that she didn't have much magic to spare. Also, if Sinsenta tagged along like the faithful pet he was, she wouldn't stand a chance. Honestly, her only hope was to get to the forest as quickly as she could...really, that had only ever been her option.

The only problem with that plan was, of course, her lack of water. If her estimations were correct, and Odarick's directions, it would take her a few days to reach the forest and, with only a mouthful or two of water, it would be a difficult journey. Unless it rained, but to be quite frank, she just didn't seem to have that kind of luck.

Above her, an orange-yellow sun hung up in the sky, still kindly pointing her in the right direction, although a good part of the sky was covered in clouds. If she didn't hurry up, her guide would soon be lost. Unfortunately, this made it impossible to travel at night and midday, for fear of drifting in the wrong direction.

With a groan, Kiethara stood up.

### ***

Kiethara was lightly running towards the grassy horizon. The sun was practically gone, but the night was not yet upon her. She knew she would have to stop soon. Above her, as the sun disappeared, the sky sank into brilliant lavender, sparkling with silver stars. The minutes of twilight were always a sight to look at; she couldn't help but smile softly. Her surrounding beauty was at least there to keep her mind off the horrific burning of her throat and the irritating stitch in her side. Her robe flapped around her, but she kept it on as a safe guard against the dropping temperature of the night. The nights were particularly brutal, making her yearn for the blanket that she had been forced to leave behind.

Kiethara had still not dared to take a sip of water. Each day she scrutinized the horizon in hopes of seeing a line of trees rise, but each day she was disappointed. More than once she feared that she was headed off in the wrong direction. She constantly stopped to read her directions even though she knew them by heart, but there was nothing to be gained from them: her last direction was a simple request. Just head west. Had not Navadar once told her how easy it was to get to the forest?

That was when she heard her answer.

Behind her, echoing in the evening, was the faint sound of a horse galloping, slightly muffled in the grass. It grew louder as it approached—soon there was no doubt of who or what it was. With recognition came thoughts of despair. Why? Why had he followed her? For the second time, her name was called out by a man she never wanted to see again.

"Kiethara!" Navadar cried.

This time, she turned around. Numbness did not overtake her; it was far too late for that. No, now there was the white-hot anger she had wished for burning inside of her, chasing away the fear and the hurt she had been avoiding so desperately.

Navadar gracefully leapt down from his buckskin horse. A heavy traveling tunic fit his frame and he had his heavy bow slung across his back. She tried to gauge the range of emotions that were playing across his face. She could see anger, pain, and a whole lot of energy...

He ran forward, leaving his horse to graze in the grass, but then slowed as he took Kiethara in. Her fists were clenched and her eyes were blazing.

"Kiethara," Navadar said warily, but his eyes were stern. "Stop this foolishness now."

" _Foolishness?!_ " she shrieked, losing absolute control over herself. "Who do you think you are, to order me around? Is it foolish that I wish to return to my forest, my home, and protect it from the threats that pursue it?"

"Your motive, maybe not, but the way you are doing it is scandalous!" he yelled. She grinded her teeth when he used Trinnia's favorite word. "The things people are saying..."

"The things people are saying?! You think I give a damn about what people are saying? Of course, I know how much you care about your image, being the conceited bastard that you are..."

It came out of nowhere. She hadn't meant to insult him like that, but once the words were out, she found she actually enjoyed them. She was tired of acting noble, tired of controlling her emotions. Aaron had always warned her to keep herself under control, but he wasn't here right now, and she didn't care anymore. Nor did she care about the fact that her crystals were glowing brighter than the spirit himself, the clouds that were suddenly gathering in the sky, or the wind, which started with a howl and continued to rip its way around them, rippling the grass, tossing her hair.

She had lost control.

"How dare you speak to me like that!" he said in a voice that rang with fury and wounded pride.

"Oh, Navadar, you truly are unbelievable," Kiethara said in a slightly hysterical voice, shaking her head. "The world could be falling into pieces around you and all you would care about is your pride, dignity, and carefully tousled hair. How could I have fallen for someone so vain, so shallow? I guess my sense of adventure had gotten to my head as well."

"Oh, don't lead yourself to believe that you're some perfect goddess," he sneered, his fists shaking. "Your point of view is sadly mistaken, in more areas than one. I accidentally caught myself up in your pathetic life. You were desperate for company, desperate for just one conversation. How could I have not pitied you in your worthless state? You trusted me far too fast for someone in your position, and yet you refuse to believe me when I tell you I didn't kiss—"

"Oh, spare me!" Kiethara cried. "I don't need this false lecture. Who kept visiting when they didn't have to? Who decided to save my life and then tried to stop me from risking it again? Who whimpered and flinched every time I used a small bit of magic, hm? A coward, that's what you are. You've been safe behind your walls for years, and only have you recently decided to wander off into a world that has no rules. Now you're too scared to admit what you've done."

"That's just it, you single-minded fool!" Navadar yelled, clearly frustrated. "I've done nothing, and you're only taking your anger out like a child on someone you don't like! Do you even know who Trinnia is? You haven't known her for as long as I have, no, you don't know her at all! I've known her for my entire life!"

"I think you know her better than you're putting on," Kiethara taunted coolly, raising an eyebrow.

"Really? You are such a hypocrite!" Navadar cried with a hysterical laugh.

"Hypocrite? What in the world is that supposed to mean?! We kissed twice! I'm not sure the first time even counted for anything, for we were interrupted and then you went running—"

"I didn't go running, you nearly attacked me just to get alone with your father! Goodness knows why..."

"Navadar," Kiethara whispered. Her fists loosened and anger faded for a moment. Her navy blue eyes widened as the wind picked up around them. Above them, thunder rumbled in the now darkened sky. "What did you just say to me?"

Something flashed in Navadar's eyes and he frowned, but his fists stayed clenched. "You might hold back certain truths from your precious Aaron, but you're certainly not innocent."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked in a quiet, wary tone.

"You damn well know what I mean. You had an old man drive you in his cart out of the kingdom. His own cart! Not a lot of people do that for strangers, Kiethara..."

"What are you suggesting?!" she yelled, losing control again. Lightening streaked across the sky, lighting the plains below.

"Don't act like you don't know!" he cried. "Goodness knows that you slept with him in order to get yourself a ride! That's probably how you earned your freedom from those men, too!"

Kiethara's mouth opened slightly in shock. Above them, the storm was quiet, as though it were holding its breath while it waited for her to respond. Her eyes sparked dangerously. Navadar suddenly looked startled.

"WHAT?!" Kiethara shrieked, her hands bursting into flames as she took a step forward. Lightening flashed in the sky. "THAT'S WHAT YOU BELIEVE?! WHO TOLD YOU THAT, TRINNIA?!"

"Stop attacking Trinnia!" he yelled back. "It's not her fault she's driven to such extremes. But defending her doesn't mean that I'm in love with her—"

"Of course you are!" she shrieked. "Don't give me that! If you loved me, you wouldn't be defending Trinnia. And you obviously don't, because you'll believe any piece of rubbish that pet of yours whispers into your all too eager ear..."

"I believe what is true, you ungrateful little brat!"

Kiethara laughed hysterically, her mind spinning wildly. He honestly believed what that ditz of a blond told him! She really admired Trinnia for what she could wrought. She had a tongue of silk and a mind of a fox. But she could still not get over the fact that Navadar believed her enough to say that to her face.

"Ungrateful little brat? Is that the worst you can do? Well, I can see you truly trust Trinnia. You cling to every word she says, as long as you get to pant over her while you hear it. So let me get this straight, Navadar, because I'm a bit confused," she paused, taking a breath. "So, according to her, I was kidnapped, slept with one of the men, was released, then kidnapped again, brought by you, and then was told I was loved, by you. Then I wake up to find your tongue in her mouth, realized I had to find my own way home, and—because your precious Trinnia saw everything, apparently—slept with a seventy year old man to get a ride in a cart. She probably also told you I slept with my father to get out of that scrap, too!"

"What?" Navadar asked, taken aback. His glare turned into a blank stare.

"Oh, that's right, I forgot to tell you I ran into Gandador," she said sarcastically. "How silly of me."

"I..." he trailed off.

"Mm, we had a wonderful conversation. Besides the fact that he slammed me into a desk and then continued to strangle me, it went rather well."

"Wait....you....he what?" Navadar stuttered, looking thoroughly bewildered.

"Slammed-me-into-a-desk," she emphasized slowly. "Or were you referring to the part where he strangled me?"

Kiethara pulled the neck of her robe down to reveal the nasty bruises that continued to throb there.

"W-When did..."

Kiethara shook her head in disbelief. "You really are amazing, Navadar. Remember our first conversation? You were just as worried then as you are now. Frightened, really, about my tales of Gandador. And after everything that has happened, you still act the same. I've finally figured it out."

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"You never cared for me. Those questions had not been aimed at my well-being, but at yours."

" _What?!_ "

"You only wanted to know because you needed to know how my fight was going with Redawn's strongest enemy! Fear is what drove you, not love!"

"Kiethara, you must be insane! One thing, you only saw one thing, and now you're convinced that I'm some...some traitor! Stop with these melodramatic lectures, please! You sound like a drunk!"

"Oh, Navadar, just go home and cry in Daddy's lap. I have to get home. Tell Trinnia to keep her tongue out of your lying mouth."

"How dare you, you slut!" Navadar roared. "You can't talk to me like that! I am a man; you will respect me!"

"A man?!" she shrieked back. "Is that what you think you are?!"

Navadar began to close the distance between them, looking as though he was going to hit her. Kiethara's heart raced, adrenaline pumped...

Boom!

Thunder cracked and Navadar was suddenly thrown up into the air. It was an eerie sight, one that sent chills through every bone of her body. His body was illuminated as the lightening flashed through the sky; he seemed to soar in slow motion—ten feet, then twenty. His back was arched, his cry drowned out by the storm. After one, painful heartbeat he hit the ground—once, twice, three times and then skidded to a halt in the grass.

Kiethara's hands, which had simmered out, burst into flames again. Once more, her common sense left her, taking with it all the self-control she had once known. She did not feel bad for hurting him; she wasn't worried that he was not moving. He had tried to hit her for the second time. The first, she had felt that she deserved it. This time, she felt that he had deserved it. She never wanted to be hurt by another person so badly again.

Finally, Navadar stirred, propping himself up on his arms. Nothing but horror and utter shock could be seen on his face; however, his eyes gleamed with something even more intense than that, something that she had been looking for since the beginning of the argument. Sparkling in his green eyes was fear.

He did not say anything, but his mouth was left open. His expression said it clearly, though: _How could you?_

"Navadar, I believe you have forgotten who I am!" she yelled in a cold voice. "I am not one of the weak pets you breed in your kingdom. Your women are bound by pointless rules and are suppressed by the respect they must show to you men! You have—mistakenly—tried to control me, and now you have seen what has happened. You might be a man, but I am a guardian!"

Navadar struggled to his feet, breathing heavily. He glared at her now, the fear she had glimpsed earlier disappearing behind his anger.

"You never change, Kiethara!" he said. "Always strung up on your little power trips!"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Just because you are the guardian that does not make you better than the rest of us! You have been blessed with a power, but here you are misusing it! Some guardian you are!" he spat.

"Blessed?!" she shrieked. "You consider me blessed with my power? Bound to protect the forest, even if the price is my life? Always having enemies, dodging them left and right, never leaving the forest! It's not my life that I am living! _You think you have it so damn hard?!_ "

Navadar was thrown back once again. After a moment, he managed to struggle to his feet.

"HOW DARE YOU!" he screamed.

"You are the ungrateful fool, Navadar, and you always have been. You wanted an adventure and you got one! But then you decided to throw it all away, and you ruined everything! How can you still have the courage to defend yourself?!"

Kiethara cried the words at him, tears pouring down her face. Navadar was thrown back once again. Kiethara met his eyes—a single sob escaping from her lips—before she turned and ran from him, thunder rumbling and lightening streaking all around them.

There was only one thing that kept her limbs moving, that kept his face from crippling her every sense. Despite what was happening all around her, despite the chaotic world that was swirling behind her, she was still only focused on one thing: She needed to return to the forest.

It finally began to pour.

Thank you for taking the time to read _The Guardians of the Forest: Book One_. If you enjoyed this book, please take a moment to review it at your favorite retailer! You can also contact me through email (kelly_anne_napoli@yahoo.com), find me on Facebook, and continue to follow Kiethara's journey by following me on both Twitter and Instagram!

### About the Author

Kelly Napoli is currently a freshman at the University of Florida, majoring in Environmental Engineering and minoring in English. She began writing when she was twelve and, since then, has not been able to stop. She looks forward to continuing this series.

### Please enjoy this short excert of The Guardians of the Forest: Book Two

Kiethara did not have to turn to know who was behind her.

She could feel him. She could feel his casual stance; feel his black cloak rippling in the breeze, flowing over his blade. She could even feel the smirk on his face.

She could really feel the wicked amount of magic he was hoarding inside him.

A flash of intuition--this was why they had been gone for so long. Not to assemble some huge army, or practice some intense strategy, but to gather as much power as they could. They most likely had Camella's grandfather put in jail so he could be forced to make them the necessary potion. If she had focused on her connection as Aaron had instructed, she might have noticed them taking fruit from the fringes of the forest.

All this flashed in her head in an instant, the shocking clairvoyance almost as uncanny as Aaron's had been. In the next instant, however, she remembered she had to give the signal. She had to alert the others.

Kiethara let out an ear-piercing scream that filled the forest. Birds took off from their perches.

Her shield flashed up around her as she jumped out of her hammock, spinning to face her father.

Just as she had expected, his face was alighted with a smirk. His dark eyes, though, were narrowed in a peculiar way.

" _Kiethara," he addressed. "It's been far too long, child."_

Fear flooded her stomach as she looked into the face of Gandador.
