 
THE GUARDIANS OF THE FOREST

Book Two

BY

KELLY NAPOLI

### See What Others Are Saying About _The Guardians of the Forest: Book One_

"A Gripping Sensation!

Kelly Napoli is another author to watch out for! The Guardians of the Forest is a YA fiction novel. CAUTION! After reading this, you will find yourself gripping the edge of your seat, hair pulling, getting stir crazy, screaming at the top of lungs for more!"

-Christy, Author of "The Book Snatcher" Blog

"The Guardians of the Forest (Book One) is a gripping tale of love, betrayal, and adventure, and at the center of it all: a powerful magic that is sought by the most dangerous villain the Forest has ever been up against."

-Rebecca via Amazon.com

"This is fascinating novel that will leave you anticipating for the next story... I can sense that Kiethara's journey in the sequel will only become more and more interesting. There are so many choices for Kiethara to make, from her duty to save the forest to settling her relationship with Navadar. I look forward to reading the next book!"

-Michelle Dawson, CA

### The Guardians of the Forest

### By Kelly Napoli

### Published by Kelly Napoli at Smashwords

### Copyright 2015 Kelly Napoli

### Smashwords Edition, License Notes

### Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

### Contents

Book One Synopsis

Chapter 32: Relief

Chapter 33: Physical Combat

Chapter 34: Silence

Chapter 35: Melted

Chapter 36: Prepared

Chapter 37: Percision

Chapter 38: Guarded

Chapter 39: Revenge

Chapter 40: Appreciated

Chapter 41: Power

Chapter 42: Listening

Chapter 43: Story

Chapter 44: Forgiven

Chapter 45: Ruins

Chapter 46: Peaceful

Chapter 47: Illusion

Chapter 48: Responsibility

Chapter 49: Instinct

Chapter 50: Decision

Chapter 51: Prespective

Chapter 52: Percision

Chapter 53: Journey

Chapter 54: Panic

Chapter 55: Cheer

Chapter 56: Legend

Chapter 57: Storm

Chapter 58: Sympathy

Chapter 59: Tribute

Chapter 60: Guest

Chapter 61: United

Chapter 62: Building

Chapter 63: Restless

Chapter 64: Trust

Chapter 65: Established

Chapter 66: Beautifully Broken

Chapter 67: Reason

Acknowledgements

About the Author
The Guardians of the Forest: Book One Synopsis

Fifteen-year-old Kiethara is a guardian; a descendant from a long line of protectors of a magical forest. Thousands of years ago, a man by the name of Aaron Pervel discovered this forest—pulsating with the magic it is known to create—and decided to commit himself to this power and become the most powerful man in the world, all the while guarding it from the threats that pursued it and himself. When he charged his son to do the same, he established the guardians.

The world that lies outside the forest relies on its power; if the forest were to perish, so, too, would the magic that it creates perish from the world. Despite the gravity of this consequence, there still existed venal beings who attempted to destroy it, along with the guardian who defended it. None of them were able to succeed, for although these outsiders became skilled with magic, no one had ever come close to the sheer skill and strength of the guardians.

No one; that is, except for one man.

This legend began when Kiethara was fifteen, after she prematurely took the place of the previous guardian—her mother—when she was killed by a man named Gandador. When she was only the age of three, the Spirit of Aaron awoke to protect Kiethara and raise her to be the guardian. One fateful day Gandador returned to the forest with renewed intentions to destroy the reign the guardians hold over this great power, and his visit brought with him an entire world that Kiethara had never experienced before.

After barely surviving Gandador's first attack, Kiethara realized she must train her powers arduously in order to triumph. Visitors from the surrounding kingdoms ventured into the forest, some of them—a young man by the name of Navadar—bringing prospects of love, while others bringing with them the dark intents that Gandador had charged them with. She barely escaped with her life when Gandador's overtly faithful servant, Sinsenta, attacked her, sparking her anger along with new powers for her to train.

Kiethara discovered a shattering truth when Gandador returned, interrupting her first kiss with Navadar. Heart-broken at the revelation that he is her father and feeling betrayed by Aaron for keeping it from her, she found herself at Gandador's mercy until a new emotion sparked a fresh power that saved her from her perilous situation. Having barely escaped alive, she turned her raw emotions onto Aaron.

He utilized these emotions to train her further in her magic. Then, one day, Kiethara was assaulted by a gang of four men armed with a jewel that saps her of her magic. Drained, they kidnap her and take her out of the forest for the first time in her life, carting her off to the kingdom of Nikkoi. There they try to sell her, but the youngest man of the gang takes pity on her and allows her to escape. Unfamiliar with the territory, she gets mistaken as a slave and brought to Redawn, where she is put up on an auction block. Out of the crowd Navadar came to her rescue, purchasing her off the auction and taking her home with him. There he nursed her back to health; Kiethara, contented with his promise that he would take her back to the forest, enjoyed sensational experiences with the culture of the kingdoms, but her good feelings were devastated when she walked in on Navadar kissing another girl.

She ran away on her own, narrowly avoiding Gandador in Nikkoi, when Navadar caught up with her in her frenzied attempt to make it back to her forest. The confrontation quickly became heated as Kiethara lost control of what little magic she had left. Navadar was sent flying through the air and hit the ground, unmoving, as Kiethara turned her head away and took off in search of her home.
CHAPTER 32

### RELIEF

_Relief_. Pure relief blossomed in her breast, expanding through her entire form. It was amazing, truly; nothing had ever hit her as hard as this feeling did now. It almost suffocated her, restricting her airways, bringing tears from her eyes and causing them to fall down her cheeks. Kiethara had never felt this happy. She found the feeling rather strange, alien, for—considering the previous events—she thought the only things she would have the strength to feel were pain and despair.

Fortunately, that was not the case. And she didn't really feel like dwelling on the implausible emotions she was feeling. Instead, she stood rooted to the spot, basking in the glorious sensation that was lifting her heart. She knew that, if she had had any magic left to her, her crystals would be glowing. Perhaps even a rose would have blossomed at her feet.

Apparently, she had used all of her magic last night. Accidentally, of course, and almost all of the phenomenons that had occurred last night were unknown to her. How had she blasted him back like that? Aaron had never once hinted that she had the ability to do that. Did it fall under one of the elements? Wind, perhaps, but she had not been concentrating on her fear. Although, he had also said that things didn't necessarily fall under one element, or any at all.

Kiethara shuddered as she remembered him soaring through the air...smacking numerous times upon the ground. She could have killed him with the way she had lost control like that.

She shook her head. She did not wish to brood over her mistakes or Navadar's foolishness. Before her lay a happiness that promised her no pain and she wanted to focus on it and it alone.

So Kiethara set her attention back on the beautiful scene before her. There, in front of her navy blue eyes, was a line of trees. Whole, healthy, unmistakable trees that seemed to welcome her back with open limbs. She smiled at each and every one of them. Already, the air seemed lighter and her breathing came easier.

There were some changes that had befallen it in her absence. Autumn seemed to have finally hit the forest and some of the trees had changed their colors in preparation for winter. Lavish reds, oranges, and yellows bespeckled the rich brown bark and the emerald green grass beneath it. Not all the trees were colored, of course. Some were still green, as they would stay year round, and others were already bare, as though winter had already stripped them. Still, the forest was home.

And it had never looked so welcoming.

Kiethara stumbled forward, catching herself at the last minute before she could fall into the ground. Maybe she wouldn't make it to the forest, after all.

No, she had come this far and she _would_ make it. She pulled herself forward, one agonizing step at a time, still smiling all the way. Kiethara paused in front of the trees for only a moment, inhaling deeply, her stomach curling in anticipation. She was so worn, so tired, but at that moment she could feel nothing but pride in the fact that she had made it back. She had survived every trial that had come her way. Maybe, at last, she was worthy of being a guardian.

At long last, she entered the forest.

Oh!

It was an overwhelming sensation, as almost everything else she had experienced these last few weeks had been, although this was different: this one cried with a fulfillment so painful she almost gasped. She, for the first time in her life, was aware of how much magic there was in the air and—being in the state that she was—it hit her like a ton of bricks.

Kiethara was able to drag herself past a couple more trees before her vision faded and her legs gave out beneath her.

### ***

Kiethara was used to the empty, floating feeling the blackness gave her by now. How many times had she fallen unconscious against her will? Too many for her to even feel the slightest desire to count them. She wasn't really complaining, though. Being disconnected from the world for a few moments was sometimes such a relief.

_Well, well, look who managed to find her way back,_ a dry, sarcastic voice said.

Usually, every good feeling seemed to fade in annoyance when the voice sounded in her head, but as for this time, Kiethara felt nothing but gratitude in hearing the familiar voice.

_Aw, don't flatter me,_ the voice said sarcastically. _Our tearful reunion. Boo hoo._

_Jeez_ , Kiethara thought. _Why so bitter?_

_I'm not bitter_ , it said. _I just didn't enjoy having to put up with your foolishness._

Foolishness? Images of Navadar flashed before her eyes. Was it really foolish that she was happy that she was home? The voice was beginning to confuse her.

_I'm just not fond of people who overuse their emotions_.

Kiethara frowned. It almost sounded like the voice was hiding something beneath its harsh, sarcastic tones. Maybe this hard voice was hiding a softer weakness of its own.

_Ha!_ it barked. _You really are full of yourself, you know that? He was right, you know:_ "Just because you are the guardian does not make you better than the rest of us. _"_

Kiethara flinched. How did the voice know this? It seemed to have some uncanny clairvoyance to know just were to prick at her thoughts to stir up something she didn't want to think about.

_So you almost killed Prince Charming, huh?_ _Well done, Kiethara!_

_Shut up!_ she snapped back. It was hard to believe only seconds ago she had been happy to hear this terrible voice.

_Yes, I have that effect on people_.

Kiethara closed her eyes and tried to block out her annoyance. She thought she heard it, once again. An undercurrent to the voice's tone, one that suggested a deeper problem. Was the voice causing her pain in order to cover for its own?

_You did very well,_ the voice said suddenly, in a much quieter voice.

Finally, a kind word. Well, if the voice was proud of her, surely Aaron would be too. Her heart swelled in anticipation to see him. She had so much to tell him, so much to ask...

_Well, I think he's coming,_ the voice informed her.

_Coming? From where?_ Kiethara did not understand.

Listen.

Kiethara listened with all her might, but she heard nothing. The silence was so deep she was afraid she would get lost in it. She was about to call out to the voice again when she heard him.

"Kiethara..."

His voice was very faint, but happiness exploded inside her. She began to reach up, as though she were swimming to the surface of a very deep lake...

"Kiethara!" Aaron stressed.

Kiethara finally broke the surface, remembering nothing from the previous conversation.

Kiethara opened her eyes and was immediately blinded by Aaron's bright light. She blinked, waiting for her eyes to adjust before pulling herself into a sitting position. She blinked again, looking around her once. For a moment, all she could do was stare at Aaron.

And then she burst into tears.

It took all her strength to keep herself from throwing her arms around him. She didn't understand why she was crying harder than she ever had in her life _now_ , when she was finally irrevocably safe, but seeing Aaron crouched next to her brought every one of her feelings rushing back. The way the dark jewel had made her feel...the fear a windowless room inspired...the maddening rage of being locked up...Why did a familiar face have such an effect on her?

Maybe because she was finally looking at a person that loved her unconditionally. She finally felt that it was okay to be weak, because in front of him, it did not matter.

"Kiethara!" Aaron cried in shock. "Shh, it's okay, Kiethara, it's okay."

"Aaron, oh, Aaron, they took me! They had this n-necklace, and it t-took all my magic away! I—"

"Shh," Aaron interrupted. "It's all over."

Kiethara took a deep, shaky breath and tried to stop the relentless flow of tears. How was she supposed to prove to him how strong she was if she could do nothing but bawl like a child?

"Kiethara..." Aaron seemed lost for words. "It has been so long...I have been so worried! Day after day, I felt as though I would lose my mind! I had no idea where you were, or what was happening to you! But you're okay, thank goodness!"

"They...they had this jewel! It took away my powers!" she repeated. "They couldn't even use magic themselves!"

"I know, trust me, I know. I wanted to help, but I couldn't go anywhere near that cursed necklace myself. Please forgive me," he pleaded.

"Of course," she said, blinking in shock. "I-I don't blame you Aaron. I didn't even know something like that existed!"

"I haven't seen that necklace in a long time," Aaron said, his voice telling her that his thoughts were in the past. "How they got their hands on it, I can't begin to imagine. Kiethara, I should have warned you about it sooner..."

Kiethara put her face in her hands as her tears stopped and her breathing slowed. Her mind was strangely blank, with Aaron's words running through her mind much too fast. Usually, they stuck to her like bees on honey, but at the moment she knew she was in no state to receive any new information. She feared it would only spill off the top of her over-crammed head. And she still had so much to tell him, to ask Aaron to explain...

"Aaron," she began, looking up, but he cut her off.

"Kiethara, I am dying to know what has happened to you, but right now you need rest and nourishment. Tomorrow, you must tell me everything that has transpired and, if you are up to it, we must begin training. We must quicken the pace in the matter, because I will not let you be unprepared like that again."

Kiethara nodded. It was easier to obey than to argue and, as of the moment, all she could really think about was finally lying down in her hammock and rocking off to sleep. Or sinking into the guardian's lake at the center of the forest. She was so thirsty, too, and that called for a trip to her washing lake...

Kiethara could not help but smile at the thought. Thinking about all of her old routines and favorite places brought back the happiness that she had lost for a few minutes.

"There we go," he said, thoroughly relieved. "Now eat this."

He handed her an apple. It looked ripe and plump, unlike anything she had seen of it in the past few weeks. Her mouth watered as she took it from him.

When she brought her hands to her mouth she saw that her crystals already had a faint glow to them. They looked the same way they had when she had lost her magic to the fire that had burned through the forest. Huh. She had thought then that she had lost all of her power.

Kiethara bit into the apple. There were no words to describe the taste, but she ate it with gusto. The feeling was instantaneous—already, she could sense strength returning to her limbs, accompanied with a strong glow issuing from her crystals. With the help of a nearby tree, she pulled herself up to her feet. She swayed slightly, but her crystals glowed—not quite as bright as they usually were—and they gave her the purpose she needed.

"Can you make it to your clearing?" Aaron asked. Kiethara shuddered at the image of walking all the way to her clearing.

"I don't think I can walk that far..."

"No, I didn't mean walk, Kiethara," Aaron said with a sad chuckle. " _Fly_."

She gasped, feeling completely humiliated. How could she have not realized something as trivial as that? What did Aaron think of her now, when she could not even remember to use one of the most basic powers that she had learned? Going so long without magic had altered her fundamental instincts! She wondered if she had worsened in her training. She shook her head, bringing her mind back to the present. Hopefully she still remembered how to fly.

Kiethara kicked off the ground, her crystals glowing brightly. She hovered in the air, feeling lighter than she had ever felt before. She ran a hand through her hair with a rather dazed smile.

"Which way?" she asked Aaron.

"Northwest," he said, pointing her in the right direction.

"Thank you."

"Kiethara," Aaron said in a very serious tone. "Tomorrow you must tell me everything. Understand?"

She nodded and, unable to contain herself anymore, she took off. She cleared the tree tops in seconds, a huge smile lighting her face. Her hands brushed the multicolored leaves below them as the wind caressed her face, pulling gently on her long brown hair. She spread her arms out wide and laughed, spinning round and round in the air. Why had she ever bothered walking in the forest when she had magic? Flying took no energy at all. It was exhilarating.

She wanted to stay in the air forever, but nature had other ideas. Soon the wind began to feel chilly, her hair grew heavy and frizzy, and her eyes stung and watered. She smiled through it all, though. This was part of her home, part of who she was, and she enjoyed it immensely, despite the fact that it took her quite a while to reach her clearing.

Kiethara almost flew right over it, distracted as she was. She practically dropped out of the sky in her haste to land. Her bare feet hit the cool, solid ground as she gazed around eagerly. Her hammock still swung innocently between the two trees. Now that she could compare it to the clean white sheets she had slept on in Redawn, it was filthy. Not that it disgusted her, but she laughed at the idea of Trinnia's comments if she could see where Kiethara slept.

Her vine belt hung in the tree just as she had left it, and everything else looked exactly the same. Kiethara's hand instinctively rose to her neck, even though she knew there was no locket there. Her heart dropped with the thought of the loss; she knew that she would never see it again. It could be anywhere in the kingdoms and she did not want to return to _that_ world ever again.

Well, there was no reason to brood over her loss when there was no way to fix it. She was home. Her happiness was fading off and on so fast it was making her head spin.

Kiethara stood there, torn between two options. She could throw herself down in her hammock and drift off into the most peaceful sleep she would have in a lifetime or she could fly to her lake, where she could get a much needed drink of water. She had never felt so tired or so thirsty.

She remembered what happened to her when she had been dehydrated in Redawn, but she didn't feel as dizzy now as she had then. It would be reasonable to go to her lake and then fall in her hammock, really—

_Wait!_ A new alternative came to mind, one that seemed much more inviting than the other two. Why didn't she just go to the lake? There was nothing more relaxing than that; she could get a drink there and maybe even sleep there. Not to mention restore some of her magic. A perfect combination.

Kiethara sped off towards the center of the forest. This time she stayed below the tops of the trees, for she knew the way well; her carved symbols from her childhood were still there to guide her. It was brilliant to zip through the trees, feeling the leaves brush past her cheeks. In no time at all, she was there.

The center of the forest was one of the most beautiful sights she had ever seen. The grass was such a livid green, rippling in a memorizing way. The lake stood off to the side, glistening in the sun. Kiethara ripped off her dirty robe and garments, threw them into the lake, and dived in after them.

A soothing numbness took over her as she took a breath of water. Compared to the chilly air above, the water was rather warm. She closed her eyes, letting her naked body drift towards the bottom, her hair swirling around her sensitive skin. It didn't take long until her back thudded against the bottom, sending up a swirling cloud of dust.

She lay there for a minute, letting herself feel nothing but the calming pull of the powerful water around her. With a deep, underwater breath, she pulled herself up and opened her eyes. It was time to visit her mother's grave.

EARTHAPHORIA

LIVED FOR 35 YEARS

" _OUR GREATEST GIFT IS LOVE."_

The purple stone embedded atop the name sparkled eerily, as though there were some magic in it. It was a bright purple, though darker than lavender. Kiethara looked down at her own crystals and frowned. Sometimes her green crystals seemed rather dull in the green forest. They weren't a deep, emerald green like the crystal she had seen in another tomb; no, her green was much lighter.

Kiethara sighed, tiny bubbles escaping her mouth. She felt refreshed and rather atoned. By visiting her mother's grave upon her arrival back, she felt like she was apologizing for losing her locket. Now it was time to get some sleep.

It scared her how much effort it took her to climb onto dry land once she had pulled herself out of the water. She almost nodded off as she flew back, avoiding what might have been several painful collisions with a tree.

She dropped right into her hammock, finally falling asleep, not in a strange land with fear of stranger people, but in the forest. Her home.

Such relief.

CHAPTER 33

### PHYSICAL COMBAT

Kiethara moaned softly as the sunlight shone rather harshly through her eyelids. She had the impression that she had been in a very deep sleep for a very long time, but she couldn't recall any dreams. She rolled her head to the side, causing her hammock to sway slightly. It had felt nice to be rocked to sleep. Her bed in Redawn had been comfy, yes, but it was nothing compared to her tattered, dirty hammock.

Kiethara took a deep breath. Her eyelids seemed too heavy to pull back and her legs seemed too worn to move. She would rather lay here for the rest of her life than summon the strength necessary to roll out of her hammock.

So she lay there for a few more minutes, unable to fall back asleep. She began thinking about what she had to do today. Training, Aaron had told her. Hadn't he mentioned that she was behind in her training and that it was time to prepare her? Kiethara didn't know whether to be excited or insulted. Did that mean that Aaron had not been working her as hard as he could have, indicating that he didn't think much of her strength? It was a waste of time getting offended, however, even if the thought did disappoint her somewhat.

Now he was going to teach her a lot more and a lot faster. This made her eager for two reasons: her thirst for knowledge was never quenched, and she wanted to have every power she could so events would not repeat themselves.

Of course, lying here in her hammock wasn't going to get her anywhere. Aaron was probably waiting for her to get up and, because she was being lazy, precious time was ticking away. The more she thought about it, the more anxious she became. It was impossible to relax now. With a groan, she rolled out of her hammock and onto her feet. There was nothing like scaring herself out of bed.

Kiethara made her way towards her lake. It seemed rather plain when compared to the guardian's lake, but it was just as refreshing to splash her face with water and take a drink. The water was rather cold, indicating that winter was close. She had not bothered to put her robe back on after washing it yesterday. The water had certainly done its job in waking her, though, and the slight breeze only sharpened the feeling of coolness on her damp skin.

With wide eyes and slightly chattering teeth, she hurried to the center of the forest. She was eager with anticipation: what type of magic would she learn today? They had already covered all the basics, but apparently, things were a lot more complicated than that. Maybe they would go a bit more in depth with an element. In her case, she hoped it was water. She felt that she was rather pathetic in that area.

Aaron was already waiting for her. To her surprise, her eyes didn't really need to adjust at the sight of him. It wasn't as bright or as blinding as she remembered him to be...and hadn't his shape been a bit more defined? Kiethara bit her lip. She hadn't noticed this yesterday and she was unsure whether or not it would be unwise of her to mention on. The last time she had commented on Aaron's physical appearance, he had gotten annoyed. Not the best way to start out the day—she pushed her observations to the back of her mind.

"Good morning, Kiethara," Aaron said as his usual greeting. She smiled widely. When had been the last time she had heard that?

"Good morning, Aaron," she replied.

"I know you are curious about what we will be training today," he began. "But first we must get something very important out of the way. I warned you yesterday that you must tell me of your... _experiences_ , and the time has come. Please, if you will, Kiethara."

Aaron beckoned for her to start. She had forgotten about his warning yesterday and she was a little reluctant to keep her word. But he would be able to explain everything that she could not understand, so the price was fair to pay.

What made her angry was that she had already had to do this once, when she had vented her problems out to Navadar. _Navadar_. The name caused so many emotions that it made her head throb...and her heart.

"Kiethara..."

She took a deep breath and then launched into her tale, pausing only to take a breath or recall a detail. She did not try to downplay the events like she had before and Aaron did not interrupt. She suddenly paused, ending her tale short, stopping just after Navadar had promised to take her home. Everything that happened after that were events she did not want Aaron to know, especially her foolish mistakes with Gandador and Sinsenta. She felt guilty, though; what if something Gandador had said was useful information for Aaron? It had only sounded like insane babble to her, but Aaron understood far more than she did.

"But you didn't return to the forest with Navadar," Aaron said, speaking for the first time since she had started talking.

"No, I..." she trailed off.

"I need to know everything, Kiethara, whether you want me to or not."

"You might not like it," she warned.

"It matters not. Go on."

With great reluctance, she launched back into her tale, although this time she chose to leave out a few choice details. Again, he didn't interrupt, but she knew that if he had any features to show an expression, they would be molded into a mask of anger. She always knew she wouldn't have been able to get anything by him.

"Well, Kiethara, I certainly didn't expect any of that," Aaron finally said, his tone both surprised and angry.

"I know, I know, but it happened. What do you want me to do about it now? At least we...well, did we learn anything from Gandador?"

"A bit," he replied. "Not enough to destroy him, per se, but enough to see a weakness. Just as he told you, his greed does play a big role in this, along with a great deal of arrogance. He thinks that he's powerful enough to force himself to become a guardian. He envies you just as he envied your mother. He does not want to kill you, because he realizes that that will end his power as well. Yet it seemed he finally stopped using reason for his actions, only whims, and we can use that to our advantage."

"You are forgetting our great disadvantage, Aaron! The necklace! You can't go near it, and I can't last for very long by it. If he gets his hands on it I am done for, and so is the forest!"

"I understand," he said. "That necklace holds great power and a horrifying fate. I don't know where it came from or how it came to be, but I can still remember the first time it was used against me."

Kiethara held her breath. She heard in his tone that he was about to talk of his time as a guardian, the first guardian.

"After many years of establishing my reign, I had thought no one would dare stand against me. It took a while to convince people that the forest was mine, but after some time, I became too powerful for anyone to look me in the eye.

"That is, until a rather intense looking woman strutted into the forest. Her expression had been void of any emotion, but her eyes had a jesting glint to them—I can still see it to this day. I approached her, curious and wary. All she did was hold up the necklace and, as soon as the jewel reflected upon my own crystals, my magic was seeping out of me and into the dark jewel. She then smiled with that cruel glint in her eye and took out a dagger from the folds of her dress. I was weak, but she had been foolish enough to lower the necklace. My powers were gone, yet I still had some strength left to tackle her to the ground, knocking the dagger away. She was weak from her own travels, so I overpowered her and killed her."

Kiethara blinked. Only recently had she uncovered his more aggressive side. She had not expected such a blunt ending to that story. When she had been younger, he had always been so kind and gentle, sheltering her from most aspects of the truth. But her bubble had been popped, and she needed to realize that he had never been as gentle as she had perceived.

"Now, this brings up the reason as to why we are here. Guardians learn to rely on their magic. They become so caught up in their powers that they do not have the foresight to realize that they are not unbeatable. Today, I will help snuff out this arrogance and help you survive against the guardian's greatest weakness."

"So what are you teaching me today?" she asked, confused.

"Physical combat," he replied.

"You mean...we're not using magic?"

"For now," he said. "We have a lot on our plate, but I want to get this out of the way so that you are prepared. After this, we will review all of the elements, but we'll go a little more in depth than you are used to. I am pleased to say you've advanced quite well with earth and air, but you'll need to work hard on the other two."

Kiethara did not argue, although she really wanted to start water today. She could feel sorrow, not that she wanted to admit who it was from, and she really didn't want to hold on to it for much longer. It would be sweet justice to use the pain he had caused her to become even more powerful.

"What do you mean by physical combat?" she asked warily.

"Fighting with nothing but your body," he elaborated. "You will learn techniques that are not very advanced, but the most important lesson you will be learning in physical combat is defense. When your opponent can use magic and you can't, the best thing you can do is dodge his attacks."

"Gandador has some attacks that come from nowhere," she complained.

"Yes, and that brand of magic is something that you cannot avoid and something I will not teach you to use. But he can't kill you with them; keep that in mind, Kiethara."

Kiethara felt a little uneasy about not using her powers, and Aaron's words did not reassure her. Punching and kicking Gandador did not appeal to her, either.

As always, though, she trusted Aaron, and he trusted her to get the lesson done. That was the only way they could function.

With a sigh, she squared her shoulders.

"All right, let's get to it."

"That's the spirit, Kiethara," Aaron chuckled. "Now, I have made it so that you will be able to hit me."

Made it so...?

"There is no good way to instruct this, so I'm going to let you come at me and slowly guide you away from your mistakes. Here, go at me."

Aaron beckoned her forward, and she smiled. Never had she imagined that she would have the opportunity to throw a few punches at him. She bent her knees and raised her arms, balling her hands into fists. He mirrored her position. She grinned and then lunged at him.

He knocked her fist away with ease and with his other arm he knocked her to the ground. She felt the air leave her lungs. Gasping, she struggled back to her feet.

"How did you do that?" she demanded.

"Easily. Your attack was predictable, your movements slow, and you had absolutely no defense."

"Huh," she said slowly, a bit disorientated with his critic. "And I can fix these things by...?"

"Keeping your fists closer together, moving a little faster, and by not giving away your next move before you perform it."

Kiethara nodded, and they resumed their previous positions. She ran her tongue over her teeth, thinking hard...

Swiftly, she moved forward. Aaron made the same jerky defensive move he had the last time, but this time, instead of punching him, she brought her leg around to kick him.

Aaron brought his arm down in lightning speed and grabbed her ankle. With a single pull, she was thrown back onto the ground.

"Either you're very good at this or I'm very bad," she commented after she had regained her breath.

"Years of practice," he chuckled.

Right. She didn't even try to imagine how long that might consist of.

"That's how long it's going to take me to hit you," she mumbled out loud.

"Patience, Kiethara. We have all day. Plus, I have a reward for you."

"Reward?" she asked, instantly curious.

"You will see. Only if we work all day, though."

And work they did. Aaron instructed her to slow down her motions, so he could point out crucial angles she needed to make and obvious mistakes. She was surprised to learn how many ways there were to incapacitate an opponent. They learned attack after attack and, to match it, each attack had several different defenses to counter it. The movements took a lot of concentration, along with flexibility, something she realized she did not have. Aaron realized this, too, and decided to devout an entire hour to some painful stretches, which involved a few interesting cracks to her joints. She felt as though they were remodeling her body into new, unnatural positions that allowed her to move in ways she had never moved in before. Before this day, she had never been able to accomplish a split.

It was not easy. The training required everything she had, but most of all, it required patience. More than once she found herself flaring up at Aaron, grinding her teeth and declaring that it was impossible. Of course, he would not let her stop and, in the back of her mind, she felt a strong urge to push herself for him, even if he already was pushing her past her own limits.

But these days she was beginning to believe that she had no limitations, only boundaries that she hadn't tried to cross yet. She had survived the previous events not because they had been within her boundaries, but because she had been willing to exceed them.

"Now bring your leg around, as though you were going to kick me in the waist," Aaron instructed her after they had taken a break for lunch.

Kiethara did as he said—he grabbed her airborne ankle. She had to hobble a little to stay balanced.

"Remind me to work on balance with you after this."

"Right, but if you have a point, make it, because I can't stay like this forever," she pointed out.

"All right," he chuckled. "I have you now, but you can get out of this easily. Lean to the left, and, when I say so, twist your body very fast and use your other leg to kick me."

Kiethara had a strong suspicion she was going to end up on the ground again, but she attempted it anyway.

After a quick blur, she was face down in the grass again. She groaned.

"You're all right. Get up so we can try again."

Kiethara repeated her actions again and he repeated his. She was not surprised when the same result repeated as well.

"How do I know you're not, well, doing something!" she cried.

"Doing what, exactly?"

"I don't know!" she said hotly. "You're not, like, cheating, or something?"

"No, Kiethara," he said slowly, as though she were crazy.

"Then why is this so hard?"

"You need more speed. If you go too slowly, you lose your balance, strength, and surprise."

"Fine."

Eventually she got it, as well as many other difficult techniques. As soon as they finished those, they worked on her balance. She grew a long, thin branch off of one of the tree trunks, making thinner branches off of it as well, lowering them and raising them in elevation. All in all, she made a challenging course for herself, but it did not take her long to master it. Finally, Aaron bid them done for the day, but not without assigning her work that she was to do on her own. Five times a day she had to do push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups, and train herself to run. Physically, she had much work to do.

Physically, she was exhausted.

CHAPTER 34

### SILENCE

Day after day Kiethara returned to the center of the forest in order to receive her brutal training. Aaron worked her until she collapsed onto the floor, and even then he only knelt besides her to explain every aspect that they had studied so far.

Kiethara was beginning to worry about Aaron. Her absence had certainly made him very paranoid, much more paranoid then he had been when Gandador had finally attacked the forest again after all those years. Actually, it would have been better if he had acted like this before, so she would have been able to stop those men from dragging her out of the forest. The information and skills she had learned were certainly useful. Now he was making sure they did not waste a second of daylight, when before they would have gone weeks without talking.

The past was done, however; it was too late to fume about it now. She needed to focus on the present and what he was teaching her. She felt like she should be suffering from an information overload, but somehow she managed to hold on to everything he instructed. Every night she reviewed the details of the day's events and lessons, soothing her stiff muscles with thoughts of Gandador's expression when she used her new skills on him.

It was one evening, after a long day of training, when she finally received her reward.

"Kiethara," Aaron started. "You've been doing remarkably well. Remember when I told you I would give you a reward?"

Kiethara gasped. She had completely forgotten.

"Weren't you supposed to give it to me days ago?" she accused.

"It seems we both forgot," he hedged. "But you have worked hard and kept up your physical combat very well. But I figure it's time to take a break and do something we both enjoy."

Kiethara frowned. She wasn't following him.

"It wasn't too long ago when you were always begging me to tell you legends of the previous guardians," he reminded her.

_Oh!_ Of course, it seemed a bit obvious now, for what else did Aaron have to give her? She cherished these stories so much, anyway. Hearing of the past defenders of the forest always inspired her. Honestly, she just wanted to know how they had done it, so she could make sure to do it just as well, or possibly better. It was... _nice_ to know about her ancestors, for even though all of them were long deceased, she felt strangely connected to them.

But how could she have forgotten about how she always badgered Aaron for them? She felt like smacking her head, not that it hadn't been smacked enough times this week. Before she had been kidnapped, every time she had seen Aaron she would have asked him for a quick legend.

But that seemed to be how Kiethara categorized her life now: before she got kidnapped and after she got kidnapped. Both of these time slots seemed to be part of two very different universes, and it bothered her how much change could be seen between the two.

"Oh, would you?" she asked eagerly. He chuckled and began his riveting tale. As with all of the legends she had heard, she was filled with joy as it ended triumphantly.

And still, despite the old legends, despite how the dreadful practices continued, despite how she was busier than ever, she still found time to despair over Navadar. At random moments, she would picture him and Trinnia together, taking walks along the docks or having a comfortable dinner with his father. The image always made her sick. She felt like she was distracted enough, but it did not seem to matter. She felt that it was disgusting to be brooding over him any time she wasn't focusing on what Aaron was telling her, especially when he most likely had a second lover already. She felt she could not allow herself to do anything as demeaning as cry; she had better things to waste tears on.

Of course, Aaron did not miss her attitude. It wasn't long before he said something.

"Kiethara, what's been bothering you?" he asked after she had spaced out for a third time.

"Oh, nothing," she said quickly. "I'm sorry, I'll pay attention."

"Kiethara, I'm not a fool."

Kiethara sighed and looked away. "I'm fine, Aaron."

"No, you're not."

"Maybe so, but I'm certainly not going to explain why."

"I'm not going to teach you when you're so upset."

"I'm not upset!"

"Our lessons are over for today."

"What?! We've only been at it for a couple of hours! We still have all day!" she declared.

"Either you tell me what's wrong or leave, Kiethara, I do not need to waste my time," he snapped.

Kiethara flinched. She hated it when Aaron was harsh with her. Honestly, she hated when anybody was harsh to her. Maybe she was too soft.

But Kiethara did not want to admit her humiliating weakness. It wasn't as though she was ready to swallow her pride and spill everything out to him, but if he was going to demand it from her like that, what other choice did she have? She would much rather keep her problems in silence, but it was Aaron; he would not kick her while she was down.

"You don't have to explain it to me," Aaron sighed suddenly. "It's Navadar, isn't it?"

"I'm dealing with it."

"Dealing with what?"

"Well, remember when I told you that Navadar and I had some complications?"

"Yes?"

"Well," she sighed. "Those complications involved me walking in on him kissing another woman."

Aaron did not respond immediately, but she could feel him getting angrier and angrier as the seconds ticked by. Kiethara braced herself, not sure what to expect.

"I'm very sorry, Kiethara," he told her in a controlled voice.

"You were right," she said in a whisper.

"Hm?"

"Navadar was not to be trusted," she explained.

"Kiethara, I did not trust Navadar for very different reasons," Aaron said. "The relationship your mother and Gandador had and what their relationship led to left me paranoid. I did not trust Navadar for fear of history repeating itself; I did not want another person getting too close to the forest's secrets. But I did not expect this. I did not think him to be...so shallow."

"Neither did I."

"Kiethara, the best thing you can do now is forget about him."

"Trying to forget someone you love is like trying to remember someone you never knew," Kiethara sighed.

"As wise as that sounds, you have to do it for the sake of your training. That's the most important thing right now and, if I didn't think you could do it, I wouldn't ask. It might not be addressing the problem, but as for now, push it to the back of your mind."

"I know," she sighed.

"Let's be done for today; you need a break."

"No! Aaron—"

"Kiethara," he interrupted. "We really are done for today. Take some time for yourself. Tomorrow, I expect you to come completely focused."

"Yes, Aaron."

"Have a good day," he said in farewell.

### ***

Kiethara spent the rest of her day wandering the forest. She went to her mother's clearing, which had earned even further charm in autumn. She added a few more flowers that had died in her absence, wondering whether she should do something like this to her own clearing. It would be pretty, but a lot of work. Besides, its rarity was one of the things that made her mother's clearing special.

Right as the sun was setting she climbed into her hammock, using her new robe as a blanket. She dreaded the day it would start snowing. Winter had always been the hardest time of year. Winter meant numb fingers digging through the snow in order to grow something from frozen soil. Winter meant nights spent shivering, not sleeping. Winter meant frozen lakes and rivers, dodging icicles as they rained down on her head, avoiding the animals that didn't hibernate and were hungry.

Eventually she drifted off into sleep; the last things before her eyes were her bottles rocking to and fro in her vine belt, which was hanging precariously on the tree limb above her...

Kiethara was standing at the bank of a river. It was nighttime; the stars twinkling above her through the tree branches. She craned her neck back to look at them, but not with much interest. She was strangely void of emotion.

She stood there for a moment, no thoughts, no cares. She could only faintly remember that she did have worries, problems, and pains. None of this interested her, though. So she just stood there in silence, looking up at the sky.

Silence.

The silence was so heavy that Kiethara suddenly felt as though the trees were closing in around her. She choked up a little and shook her head. The trees couldn't possibly be moving, for they were rooted down in the soil.

But they were moving. Their leaves were rustling in the same breeze that was moving her own hair. Kiethara turned her attention on the river in front of her. The water was not still; it raced to the south, splashing heavily against the rocks.

Kiethara could see all of this, but she could not hear any of it.

It was as though the world around her was on mute. She couldn't make a single sound, not even when she clapped her hands together. It was so wrong, so unnatural. Fear welled up inside her, choking her.

_Help_ , she said, but no sound echoed through the trees.

_Help!_ Kiethara cried, but nothing came out of her mouth.

_HELP!_ Kiethara screamed, her heart racing ahead in pure panic. She could feel it thumping, but she could not hear it.

Kiethara fell to her knees and put her head in her hands, shrieking at the top of her lungs. It painfully ripped up her throat and tore through her mouth. Tears streamed silently down her face as the fear overwhelmed her.

There was no torture equal to this. There was no blow as painful. The silence was getting inside her head as though it were trying to silence her thoughts. As though it were trying to drive her mad. She did not know how long she kneeled by the river, shrieking silently until she was coughing up blood.

She was trapped.

She was alone.

And there was no way out.

Eventually, she fell over onto her side, silently gasping. Her eyes were wide, fists clenched, and her chest heaved. The fear was incapacitating her.

_Kiethara?_ a worried voice called out.

Kiethara raised her head in shock. At the same time all the sounds came rushing back to her; the leaves rustled audibly, the water splashed loudly against the rocks, and the animals made their nighttime calls.

Shaking and trembling, Kiethara pulled herself into a sitting position. With wide eyes, she glanced across the river.

There was no one there. She had heard that voice before, in a dream long ago, and she was happy it was here. She tried to remember exactly when she had last heard this voice, but she couldn't. And why was it coming from across the river?

_Not close enough for you?_ it snickered from across the river.

It was such a relief to hear it call out again. Another voice, another sound, made her fear dissipate and her common sense return. There was only one thing that made her twitch uneasily. Why was the voice across the river?

_Why don't you come over here?_ the voice asked in a tone that suggested she was being rather foolish.

Cross the river? She had not thought of attempting something like that. The water looked rather cold and it was moving very fast. What if she got swept away, or thrown onto those rocks? Still, she didn't want to be alone any longer.

Kiethara stuck her big toe into the water. She had been right about the temperature. It was freezing.

With a deep breath, she plunged in.

Again, it was silent chaos.

The water pushed and pulled her, dragging her down and shoving her away from the river's bank. The freezing water caused her muscles to seize up and, before she knew it, she had lost track of where the surface was.

She faintly recalled being in this situation before.

The water shoved her again and her head—miraculously—broke the surface. The sounds came rushing back; she clawed at the soggy dirt and exposed bedrock. One hand obtained a firm grip and, heaving herself onto dry ground, she laid down, spluttering and coughing.

_Nice_ , the voice said sarcastically.

_Nice?_ She almost died! It had been the voice's suggestion in the first place! She rolled over onto her back and placed a hand over her heart.

_You want to try that again?_ it asked in a tone that was clearly mocking her.

Kiethara turned her head and, with a jolt, she realized that she had come up on the wrong side. She had accomplished absolutely nothing except, perhaps, frostbite. She would freeze to death, certainly.

_Oh, so you actually care about something this time,_ it said in surprise. _Do you not find it ironic that you're always so happy to hear me at first?_

Whatever the voice was talking about, Kiethara knew it did not matter. She couldn't get across the river. She was all alone over here.

_Someone is coming,_ it said suddenly.

Kiethara listened, but she didn't hear anything. It must be coming from the other side of the river. She suddenly wished that the voice was on her side.

_That desperate, huh?_ it asked in a gleeful voice. Why was it so happy?

_Does this make_ you _happy?_ it whispered, right into her ear.

Kiethara jumped clear out of her skin, looking around frantically. Nobody. The voice had crossed the river without even causing a ripple. Why hadn't it done this before?!

_I don't know,_ it said after a moment. _This place is messing with your mind, so it's messing with my mind. We're not thinking straight_.

Kiethara opened her mouth to reply, but movements from across the river distracted her.

Navadar emerged from the trees, wearing a black tunic. His bow was out, loaded with a finely crafted arrow. His steps were cautious as they took in his surroundings, but, other than that, he looked the exact same way he had when they first met.

He finally saw her, but he did not put his weapon away. She lay there, wide eyed and confused, while he glared at her with cold, black eyes.

Black eyes?

They were not his eyes, but they looked very familiar. But her mind was too fogged, and she couldn't put her finger on it...

Her answer came out of the trees behind her, walking forward until he was standing over her. His black eyes looked down at her and then flickered up to Navadar.

_You always dream about these two?_ the voice whispered, as though Gandador could hear them.

Dream? What was the voice talking about? She—

Her thought was interrupted by another commotion across the river. Trinnia came into view, dressed in a black dress perfect for the scene around them. A devilish grin lit her face, her black eyes sparkling wildly. She went over to Navadar and put her arms around his chest, running her tongue up his neck.

_Kiethara!_ the voice gasped.

Pain slashed through her body, starting and ending with her heart. Before she had a chance to be killed by it, a bright light came into view.

She turned around to see Aaron emerging from the trees. His light was not as bright as she had expected, in fact, it was rather dull. He, too, stood over her, and, like Gandador, he gazed across the river.

Kiethara did not want to look back across the river, but curiosity got the better of her.

Mallkin and Randall emerged from the trees. Kiethara could not tell which feature was more unnatural: the fact that they were not smiling, or the black eyes that glared at her. This was no longer eerie, it was sickening. Unreal.

Kiethara turned around, expecting for someone to come out of the trees as the pattern dictated; however, no one came.

Across the river, hundreds of people were filing out of the trees.

Some she recognized. The old man who had helped her, the men who had kidnapped her. Desan, the woman who had washed her in the river, Tina, Raynock...others were just faces she had passed in the streets of the kingdoms and others she had never seen before in her life. They pressed into each other until they all were side by side, shuffling up to the very edge of the river. Not one face besides Trinnia and Navadar's held any emotion.

There were thousands of cold, black eyes staring blankly at her.

_Oh my_ , the voice whispered in horror. For once, it had no snide remark to make.

A sob broke from Kiethara's lips as she crawled towards the river. It was too much; the weight of their stare was threatening to make her crack. It was choking her, compressing her from all sides.

Kiethara leaned forward, over the surface of the water.

Two pit black eyes stared back.

CHAPTER 35

### MELTED

Kiethara gasped, opening her eyes as feelings of horror and shock took over her. Her hammock was swinging dangerously underneath her, which confused her further. She had been by a river...surrounded by people, people with pit black eyes...

Relief, glorious relief, filled her with a warmth that was only ever achieved from waking up from a nightmare. None of it had been real; the river, the people, Gandador standing over her...and especially her eyes. They were not black. More importantly, they would never hold what Gandador's did.

Of course, not all aspects of the dream had been lies. She was shivering in reality, too, for her robe had slipped off with her movements. Also—

No. She really did not want to think about it. Every time she did, she felt like ripping her hair out in humiliation and anger. She would do what Aaron told her and, if she was lucky, it just might work.

Kiethara shook her head as she sat up. Somehow it was still hard to believe that it had happened. She had not thought he was capable of such an unworthy crime, but then again, she had only known him for a few months, at the most. She had lost her head in the thick of it all, and her inability to judge and see was the only real problem she had. Their relationship had never been rational.

But since when had love ever been rational?

Aaron was right. She was her mother—her mother had made the same mistake. That fact mollified Kiethara slightly, but not completely. Gandador and Navadar's betrayals were very different; one was cruel, the other shallow.

With a sigh, Kiethara raised her hand to push her hair out of her face. Her fingers brushed silent, salty tears that streaked down her cheek. Startled, she wiped them away quickly and then rose to her feet.

The walk was slightly refreshing, what with the cool air nipping at her cheeks and nose. She had left her robe behind again. Today, all she wanted was a drink of water before she crawled back into her hammock again, hiding until Aaron started badgering her. Goodness knows she wasn't in the mood, but it wasn't as though she had much of a choice.

With that, she took a long drink, grimacing as the icy water froze her gums before it ran down her throat. Not fun. Hopefully winter would drift by fast. She remembered the first time a blizzard had hit the forest...

Eight year old Kiethara was curled tight against one of the two trees supporting her hammock, wishing nothing more than to die.

The wind was howling, the temperature dropping rapidly, and she was blinded by the fiercely swirling snow that refused to still. Kiethara's hair was being yanked harshly while her raw skin was being cut up. Her toes—or solid bricks of ice, as they were now—tried to clutch at the frozen ground for dear life; she felt as though if she loosened her grip even by a fraction the storm would pick her up and blow her away. Although, she may have sufficiently become ice by this point, and perhaps the winds would not be able to take her.

The storm was growing worse, though she did not know how that was possible.

She could not see very far, could not feel, and the roar of the wind blocked out all other sounds. Her hands were turning blue and her shivers were turning into convulsions. She clenched her eyes shut tight, knowing the only thing she could do was scream silently in her head.

At first, Kiethara did not notice Aaron's arrival. It was only when he whispered words of salvation into her ear did she realize she had company.

"Not to worry, Kiethara. Can you fly?" he had asked.

Relief, as well as shock, had flooded through her numb body. Without opening her eyes, she concentrated on becoming weightless, drifting slowly into the air.

The strong wind had immediately thrown her small form into a far tree, but ironically, that had been just what she needed. Now protected by the line of trees she had been forced into, the wind lessened slightly, allowing her to grab hold of the tree limbs around her. Every movement in the cold was painful, making it harder and harder to stay in the air.

"Can you make it into the guardian's lake?"

Kiethara did not answer; instead, she pulled herself towards the next tree, using her dead feet to push herself off the tree behind her and into the right direction. Her shoulder length hair whipped in her eyes.

It was, by far, the worse time she had ever had while flying.

Aaron stayed below her the entire time, making sure, probably, that she didn't freeze to a tree or wander in the wrong direction. The swirling storm was beyond confusing and, even though she had traveled the distance countless times, she still relied on her small carvings several feet below.

Eventually, Kiethara had made it to the center of the forest. She wanted to give herself a resonant round of applause, but her hands were such a sickening color she feared they might snap off if she worked them that hard.

"Into the lake," Aaron had ordered.

Kiethara propelled herself off the tree and into the swirling white. The wind immediately tried to drive her off her course, but as soon as she felt she had managed to be tossed far enough, she let herself drop.

Kiethara had never been able to explain why the guardian's lake never froze in the winter; Aaron had not been very helpful when she asked. All of the other lakes and rivers froze, but this lake wouldn't even drop in temperature.

She didn't complain about it, though; warm, heavenly water was waiting for her falling, numbed body. Once she fell in, the wind no longer pulled at her and the white snow could no longer blind her. Kiethara let out a frustrated huff as she watched her hands turn back to their normal color.

'Better?" Aaron had asked as she reached the bottom.

"You have no idea," she sighed, closing her eyes and sinking down to the floor.

"You almost died, Kiethara. You need to be more careful."

"More careful? I just woke up with the snow falling, and then the wind started up like crazy! What was I supposed to do?" her high-pitched voice demanded.

"Take precautions."

"So now I have to defend myself from the weather, too?"

"It can kill you," he reasoned.

"Fine," she relented. "But how do I take precautions?"

"Maybe you should sleep closer to the center," he suggested.

"But Aaron! That's _my_ clearing!"

"And what do you propose to do if this happened again?"

"Come on, Aaron, you know you enjoy playing hero and rescuing a damsel in distress."

"Not if she doesn't learn anything by it," he said. "You cannot underestimate anything."

"Not a day goes by where you don't lecture me," she complained.

"You're still young, and you have lots to learn."

"Eight years old isn't young!" she sniffed.

"Whatever you say, Kiethara," he yielded. She could hear the smile in his voice.

She looked up towards the surface, but she could not make rhyme or reason of what was happening above. How long would it take before the storm passed? She could not stay down here forever.

Or could she?

"How long would I be able to stay here?" she had asked tentatively.

"As long as was necessary, Kiethara. Whenever the weather gets too bad, you should come down here, but you can't stay here forever."

Well, that was disappointing. She would rather stay in this one spot for all of winter than go back up and face the cold again.

But it couldn't be helped.

### ***

Fifteen year old Kiethara pulled herself back to the present, her back to her lake as she made her way back to her clearing. Truthfully, it would be smarter to just turn around and head to the center of the forest, but she could not muster up the resolve to do so. Aaron was just going to have to drag her there by her ankles.

It wasn't as if she hadn't accomplished anything. In fact, her new, intense training was going phenomenally. He had even allowed her to start practicing some techniques about the elements. Once, she had even combined two elements accidentally. They had been practicing water—she could now project streams of it, due to some new memories to utilize—and she had gotten frustrated. Without realizing it, she had shot a stream of boiling water across the lake and into a tree, where it had sent steam into the air.

It was not only the basic elements they worked on, either. She was quite capable in many areas; she could expand her shield on a moment's notice, shield other things besides herself, and partially control what she had done to those guards as she had fled from Nikkoi—something that apparently combined wind with fire, fear with anger. Invisibility almost came more naturally, too.

Kiethara smiled, trailing her fingers along the rough bark besides her. It had been weeks since her return, but she felt as though she had made a year's progress in her abilities. She felt like, for the first time, a strong guardian. If things kept up like this—

"Kiethara."

Kiethara's head snapped up. For the second time, she had to pull herself from her thoughts; however, she wished she hadn't.

Navadar was standing a few yards away, in between two live oak trees. He wore his usual attire, hair tousled freely in the wind. Seeing him again after so much time, time which had been spent detaching herself from him, was almost surreal. She blinked once before it hit. She felt as though someone had taken a rusty blade and thrust it into her stomach with a brutal twist.

She did not need to be reminded so raucously of what she had lost.

"Kiethara," he said again, almost begging. His green eyes were probing.

Without a word, she turned around and swiftly walked back in the direction of her lake. She didn't have a destination in mind. Her mind was quite blank, actually, except for one thought: she needed to get _away_ from him. She needed to escape. How could he show his face here, after everything?

"Kiethara, please stop!" he cried desperately. "We have to talk."

"Leave me alone," she said in a dull voice, quickening her pace.

"Please, Kiethara!" he practically shouted. His voice sounded from right behind her.

"Navadar, just leave me alone," she repeated. It was too much, too soon, and the image of Trinnia and him entwined across the river burned in her eyes.

"No, I can't!" he said impatiently. "You can't just ignore the truth!"

"Navadar, please!" she stressed, breaking through the line of trees. She had made it back to her lake. "Just leave me alone."

"No!" he growled, and Kiethara gasped aloud as he suddenly grabbed her by the waist with his arm, pulling her tightly against his chest. He was so warm, and so strong...Her stomach lurched in a peculiar way, and she was once again unusually aware of her heart, which was thumping wildly in her chest. She didn't fight against his hold, but she tried desperately to harden her heart against him, to freeze it over.

The truth was that she did not want him to let go.

"Let me go," she said anyway, in the same dull tone.

"Absolutely not," he said firmly. "You need to hear this, and you need to believe me."

"Let. Me. _Go_." she repeated, emphasizing each individual word.

"You're going to have to make me, Kiethara—"

Before he could get another word out a light illuminated the clearing, making the cold water sparkle.

The chill that entered the air was almost tangible.

"No, Navadar, that would be my job," Aaron said in a voice that made even Kiethara shudder—and she knew that it was not her he would harm. "Let go of her. _Now_."

"Aaron," Navadar said. It sounded like he was grinding his teeth. "She has to listen to me!"

"Let her go," he warned again. He was becoming so angry that his light seemed to be radiating heat.

"You have to tell her—"

Kiethara felt an intense grip pull at her. Suddenly, she was on the ground, and somewhere above her Navadar let out a cry.

She lifted her head and saw Navadar hit a tree with a force that caused him to rebound off another before he rolled deeper into the foliage. Kiethara's eyes widened when she saw him lying there, unmoving.

Kiethara pulled herself off the ground as she took in the scene before her. No, she had not wanted this...

"Aaron..." she whispered in horror.

"He got what he deserved, Kiethara, and he's not dead. He'll come to in a minute."

"Aaron!" It was all she could say.

"You need to listen to me, Kiethara," he said quickly. "For reasons besides the forest, this time, I am warning you against this boy. I believe you would be better off without him."

"Listen, I didn't tell him to come here, nor did I tell you to do that!" she hissed.

"I understand that, but I needed to buy us some time."

"Well, that's great, considering he's probably slipping into a coma right now..."

"Listen!" he ordered. "Navadar's telling the truth! Trinnia kissed him. She finally admitted everything to him the other day. That is why he is here."

Kiethara's mouth slid open to form a shocked _O_. The words sounded in her head; it took twice the amount of time it had for Aaron to say them as it did for her to understand them.

"How do you know?!" she asked in a breathless voice.

"Never mind that at the moment; it involves experience with people who lie. You need to make a choice, but I leave that up to you," he said in a very serious tone.

Then Aaron disappeared.

It took Kiethara a minute to move, but as soon as she regained that ability she dashed towards Navadar. No matter what Aaron said, she still feared for the boy's physical safety. He still was not moving.

She kneeled down besides his head and shook his shoulder.

"Navadar," she said, but he did not reply.

"Navadar!" she said more urgently.

He groaned, his eyelids fluttering as he finally came too. He pulled himself up on his elbow, looking rather dazed as she leaned over him, worried.

"Navadar? Are you okay?"

She did not know what else to say. He had been telling the truth this entire time and she had not bothered to listen to a word he had said. She had thrown him into the air like a child's play toy. Aaron had slammed him into a tree...or two.

Everything turned around so fast. It was no longer the question of Kiethara forgiving him; it was the question of whether he would forgive her.

He, however, had still said some horrible things to her. Was she really going to let that all pass just because of Aaron's reassurance? Maybe he had not kissed Trinnia, but obviously there was some relationship between the two, one that she personally did not understand.

Navadar had done nothing but help her, though. If it were not for him, she would be the slave of some man in Redawn, or most likely dead. Either way, she still owed him a large amount, one that she had yet to pay back.

Still, perhaps it would be better if she ended things here and now. That was what Aaron had advised her to do, despite the fact that he had told her Navadar was free from, well, most transgressions. She was grateful, but it would save them any further strife, save her from any further pain.

But yet...

She could not come to an answer by herself. She would judge his reactions first. She would test him. It sounded fair, did it not?

"Kiethara?" Navadar asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he took in her conflicted expression. He got up, and she followed suit.

They stared at each other for a moment, Navadar rubbing his shoulder.

"Just because I live in a different world, doesn't mean there aren't rules," she whispered as she stared at his shoulder, referring to more than one thing.

He looked away, appearing a bit ashamed. "I didn't mean what I said back there, Kiethara, I was just...angry."

"Back where?" she asked.

"Before, outside Nikkoi," he explained. "Honestly, I'm disgusted at myself, and looking back...I want to apologize."

"I'm sorry, Navadar," she said suddenly.

"What?" he asked.

"I'm sorry for not believing you," she said in a quiet voice. "I-I believe you now, and I should have before. So, I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Pardon?"

"Why do you believe me now?" he clarified.

"Well, Aaron told me," she said in a small voice. It must sound bad that Aaron had told her once and she had believed him when Navadar had followed her miles to explain the same thing.

"So you believe Aaron, but not me?" Navadar stalked forward slowly, looking rather annoyed. She took a step back and paused.

Who was she to back up to _him_?

As usual, her pride swelled up inside her, and she leaned forward angrily.

"Yes, I do."

A grin split across his face. It was strange, almost mischievous, and a rather odd light came into his eyes.

"You know," he said slowly. He came even closer, forcing her back against a tree. She tried to push around him, but he grabbed her arms and forced her even harder against the tree. "It's really cute when you get annoyed."

_Cute?!_ Oh, she would certainly look cute when she burned him alive. What happened to the gentleman that she had fallen head over heels for? Where had all this smoldering confidence come from?

She thrashed against him, her crystals glowing dangerously. But in some small corner of her mind, she did not want him to let go. Her stomach flipped.

Navadar was physically strong, she gave him that. He held her still and stared down at her, his eyes gazing down into hers. Soon her struggling stopped as she stared back in confusion.

Hadn't he been about to kiss her?

That's exactly what she wanted him to do. Her eyes narrowed, but he continued to smile down at her pleasantly, a grin in his eyes.

Before Kiethara could form another coherent thought in her mind, she threw herself on him, bringing her lips to his. Navadar reacted as though he had anticipated her move, welcoming her eagerly. A small part of her mind wondered angrily if he had been plotting for her to do this all along.

But soon the smaller parts of her mind were taken over by her body, which was now being shoved against the tree.

He had both of her arms pinned above her head with one of his hands and with the other he gently cupped her neck. The kiss had begun fiercely, but now it melted into something sweeter, gentler. The old Navadar seemed to finally resurface.

Navadar groaned and released her hands to grab the small of her back and bring her close. With one hand she entwined his hair through her fingers, keeping his face to hers, while the other she placed on his chest to feel the wild thumping of his heart underneath.

Navadar's grip tightened to an almost painful degree, as though he was never going to let her go again. But when their lips parted, he seemed to groan in confliction. As though he did not want to stop, but he was forcing himself to.

She certainly did not want him to stop.

But now he had given her the chance to catch her breath and slow her heartbeat, which had spun passionately out of control. Her gasps soon slowed, but she couldn't quite get a hand on the thumping in her own chest...

Navadar seemed to be doing the same, his expression now revealing all of his hidden emotions. His features finally looked the same as they had when they had first met; his eyes were content and his mouth stretched into a lazy grin.

Kiethara let her back slide down the tree behind her, coming to a rest a top the soft grass. She hardly had to focus on the ground as a small fern shot up, which she used to tie her hair back. She didn't want it to get in the way.

Navadar sank in the grass with her. He stared at the ground for a moment also, not to grow anything, but to compose himself. He then shook his head and looked up at her, raising an eyebrow.

Her face burned as her cheeks turned scarlet. She had forgotten already that she had been the one to kiss him first.

He brushed her cheeks with his hand.

"That was easier than I had expected," he noted, sounding relieved.

His tone brought several things to light at once. That unknown sparks in his eye...had it been nervousness?

"What was?" she asked.

"Gaining your trust back, along with everything else," he explained, his own face reddening. "I was prepared to do anything in order to make you realize that I love you, and not Trinnia. Trinnia...well, I don't know how to explain it, but she will do whatever she wants to get what she wants."

"Well, I'm sorry I didn't believe you sooner," she mumbled.

He didn't answer, but gently cupped her face.

"Where did all this...confidence come from?" she half-teased, pausing on the word confidence. She felt the word _arrogance_ would be a little offending.

His eyes lingered on her, swiftly scanning her before lingering on her face.

"Guess," he said, and then leaned forward.

Kiethara turned her head, putting her lips to his ear.

"Why did Trinnia kiss you?"

Navadar sighed. "I suppose I couldn't ask you to just forget about it?"

"Not in the slightest."

He took a deep breath.

"People in the kingdoms marry for two reasons: money and a good name. Well, the majority of them, anyway. Trinnia cannot marry someone destitute—she must marry into a richer family. That makes her choices very limited and, out of all her options, she seems to think I am the best one. She started pursuing me years ago.

"I have never loved her for more than a friend, but most people were expecting us to marry. I even started to expect it as well. That is, until I met you.

"When everything that she had been striving for was threatened, she became desperate. It led her to making the rash decision of kissing me in front of you, and she now realizes how foolish it was. But she has come to love me, in her way and, though I pity her, I cannot return the same feelings."

Kiethara gazed at him intently for a full minute.

"Promise?"

"Of course," he said sincerely.

Their lips met, and he gently pushed her on her back. She welcomed him and he gently slid on top of her.

"We're not...completely alone," she breathed, referring to Aaron. She chuckled when his eyes widened.

"It's only a kiss." He sounded as though he was trying to reassure himself.

"Only?"

Navadar grinned.

The conversation was then impossible to continue.

CHAPTER 36

### PREPARED

Kiethara opened her eyes slowly; very unwilling to leave the blissful unconsciousness that she had succumbed to for the past few hours. She had no dreams from last night to muse over, which—considering everything that had happened—annoyed her slightly. Were nightmares the only types of dreams she was able to have?

Now that she thought about it, she really only dreamed when she was worried about something. Yesterday's events had pushed all of her worries out of her mind, leaving one issue solved and the rest temporarily forgotten.

That did not mean that they weren't there. The main problem lay in one fact: that Gandador would return to the forest. It was incontrovertible. She did not dwell on the fact for long, but she knew that she needed to be prepared.

Kiethara exhaled sharply as she sat up in her hammock. She really didn't want to ruin her good mood this early in the morning.

A bashful smirk split her face as she recalled the reason behind her exceptional mood. Warmth filled her, but it was only a mere echo of the feeling that she had received when his body had pressed against hers...

She spaced out for a few moments, her mind in the near past, stray thoughts wandering to the kingdom of Redawn.

"I don't know when I'll be back," Navadar had said. "There has been a lot of uproar—I barely had enough time to escape here."

"Uproar?"

His only reply had been a small smile, but she knew what it meant.

Kiethara sighed and stood up, stretching out her kinks. No doubt Aaron had a whole day of training planned out. Honestly, though, she was wondering how much more they could do.

The moment she thought it, though, she knew she was wrong. She couldn't imagine Aaron ever coming up to her, informing her that they were done for life, that she could go and rest.

Kiethara jumped into the air and sped towards the center of the forest, weaving in and out of the trees. What would Aaron say about yesterday? She did not exactly make the decision he had wanted her to make, but if what he had told her was true, then Navadar had done nothing wrong. He had helped her in every way that he could have.

Although...

How had Aaron known? Navadar had not uttered a single thing but "wait" before Aaron had shown up. How could he have deduced such a definitive conclusion about Navadar? About events that took place miles and miles away?

Kiethara let her feet touch the ground, barely aware she had reached her destination as she frowned in concentration.

Aaron's light filled the clearing, causing Kiethara to jump.

"Kiethara," he greeted.

"Aaron," she said, but before waiting for his response she blurted out her realization. "How did you know Navadar was telling the truth?"

Aaron sighed. "I've seen many things and have met many people, Kiethara. I have accomplished many things. Especially with my form now and my amount of power, I am able to tell when someone is lying and when they are not."

"Oh." That was all she could say.

"Now, Kiethara, before we get started with what I had planned, I want to talk to you about Navadar."

"Listen, Aaron," she said quickly. "If you are sure that Navadar is telling the truth, then he has done nothing but help me—"

"Kiethara," he interrupted, holding up a hand, palm forward. "I'm not going to lecture you about the decisions you made yesterday. It was kind and I respect that. I am going to lecture you, however, on the decisions you might make."

Kiethara stared at him blankly, but for some reason her stomach was rolling uneasily.

"You cannot forget your other duties, Kiethara. At the moment, there are too many threats against the forest for you to get yourself pregnant."

Kiethara opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. She had no idea how to respond to that.

"The time will come when you will need a descendant, though. It is obligatory that you have a child, but first, we must purge out any threats."

"I..." she trailed off, and then changed her mind to ask a question. "Well, Navadar stumbled across me by chance, as did Gandador with my mother. What would have happened if no one had made their way to the forest?"

"In each generation there is almost always an adventurous person or two who takes up the quest of traveling into the forest. If not, the guardian is allowed to leave the forest in order to find a mate, or at least to get pregnant, or get someone else pregnant."

"But, Aaron," she gasped. "What if no one out there loves them?"

"That is highly unlikely," he chided. "But you are the guardian and it is your duty, so you must find a way to make it happen."

She stared at him in shock as his words sank in.

"Just give me your word, Kiethara," he said impatiently.

She nodded.

"All right. Today we will not be training."

"What?" she asked, surprised.

"We have quite a journey to make, so I will explain it along the way. Start heading north."

Kiethara, intrigued, kicked off the ground and elevated to the required height; just above the tops of the trees. The frigid air cut at her face and exposed skin, causing her eyes to water. She longed to duck below the trees, where the wind was less harsh, but she did not know where they were going. It seemed they would be traveling to unknown and unexplored territory, where no memories or childish carvings could help her now.

"Where are we going?" she asked aloud.

"To the mountains," Aaron's disembodied voice said. She was used to his eerie voice, but not his words.

" _Mountains?!_ " she cried. "There are _mountains_ in the forest?"

"Yes, but they are situated very far north. I must warn you, it had already started snowing up there."

Ugh. She was already shivering.

"What are we doing in the mountains?"

"You will be turning sixteen very soon and I wanted to give it to you then, but I figure you need to be prepared. So, you will be receiving your sword today."

" _Sword?_ " she almost shrieked, losing altitude.

"Calm down!"

"I'm sorry, but goodness Aaron, is there anything else you would like to throw at me before I fall out of the sky?"

"No, that is it for today."

"Why in the world would I need a sword?"

"It's branching off of physical combat. It will certainly be helpful against Gandador or anyone else who crosses your path."

"Gandador has a sword!" Kiethara remembered.

"Yes."

"But he will be much better at it than me," she continued.

"Not if we train harder."

"Is that possible?" she grumbled.

"Yes, Kiethara."

She groaned. More work, new lessons. Some birthday present. It was never going to end. She had been very foolish to even think that her training could end soon.

As Aaron warned her, it soon got very cold. Flakes began to swirl around her. Her hands and feet were numb and she knew that her lips were turning blue. She had left her cloak behind—always prepared for the worst, she thought sarcastically—and she had a strong feeling that a couple more hours of this flying would kill her.

How much farther could it be? Above her, the sky churned with light gray clouds. Below her, there were more pine trees than anything, most of them already dusted with a fine layer of snow.

"H-How much farther? She asked through her chattering teeth an hour later.

"Not too far," he assured her.

Yet after thirty more minutes, there were still no mountains in sight and the winds were becoming so icy it was painful.

"Aaron!" she screamed. "I can't do this anymore!"

Without waiting for a reply she dived into the trees. Immediately the winds lessened as she swerved around the branches and let her numb feet touch down on a thin layer of snow. It was still cold, but not half as bad.

"All right, Kiethara?" Aaron asked, appearing next to her.

"Not really."

"Just a few more miles north, I promise."

Kiethara let out a long sigh. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of her breath condensing in front of her.

"Lead the way," she said, gesturing with her frozen hand.

### ***

Kiethara craned her neck back so she could take in the massive form in front of her. She had never seen a mountain before; Aaron had only described them to her. Somehow, his description had failed to prepare her for what she saw before her.

He stood next to her, waiting patiently. It made her wonder exactly how long she had been standing here, gawking. Long enough for her feet—which had warmed some while walking—to grow cold again.

The mountain, or mountains, were truly incredible. She could not even see the top of the one in front of her, which by far appeared to be the largest.

"Aaron?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"Why did we have to come to a mountain to get a sword?"

"Because the sword is in the mountain," he explained. "Actually, _swords_ is a more correct term."

"So why are the swords in the mountain?"

"Every guardian is given a sword and, when they die, it is placed inside this mountain. On the stone the sword is embedded in are their name and the years they reigned."

"Every guardian? Including my mother?"

"Yes, Kiethara, including your mother."

"Including you?"

There was a short moment of silence. The atmosphere around Aaron was alien to her, but it was almost as though he were embarrassed.

"Yes," he finally confirmed. "Including me."

She waited for him to continue, or to at least explain his pause, but he did not. And at the moment she knew better than to question him.

Kiethara took a deep breath. "All right, where do I go?"

"The cave was made specifically so that only guardians or exceptionally powerful people can get in with their magic. Fortunately, only guardians have ever entered this cave, and the secret remains. Not even Gandador knows about it.

"That means that you cannot tell anybody about this. Not even Navadar. I mean this, and there _will_ be consequences if you fail to keep the secret."

Kiethara gulped, for she could hear the depth of the threat in his voice.

"I promise," she said.

"It's halfway up the mountain, but there are no good ledges to climb, so you will have to fly."

"The winds!" she said in alarm.

"Control them, Kiethara," he told her in an exasperated tone.

"But...I..." she spluttered. "I can control the weather?"

"Yes, you can, but only a very small part of it at your level. You can't change the temperature, but you can change the force of it."

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?!"

"I was hoping you might reach the conclusion on your own. You don't seem to apply your powers to anything but training and fighting."

She opened her mouth to retort, but he interrupted her.

"If we want to get this done today, we need to move a little faster."

"Fine."

Kiethara pushed herself into the icy air and no sooner then when she lost the cover of the trees did the wind whip at her dress, her hair, and her bare skin. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the wind, her crystals glowing brightly as she took control.

Finally, the winds stilled.

It took her only a few moments to reach the middle of the mountain and from there she immediately saw where Aaron wanted her to go. An unnatural ledge stuck out from the rocky wall and led to a lopsided entrance. It seemed rather intimidating for reasons she could not place.

Kiethara flinched when her feet touched down on the snow covered ledge. Her toes were going to fall off soon.

Aaron appeared besides her silently, illuminating the dark cave in front of her. To her surprise, inside the cave was a stone staircase.

"Where does it lead?" she asked.

"To the top of the mountain. Well, inside the top of the mountain. The caves were carved out by my son, the second guardian. From the top, the line of swords travels in a spiral down."

She began to climb the steep staircase, with Aaron following behind her. Several minutes later, they reached the top.

Torches had aligned the walls surrounding them and since they were lit—most likely Aaron's doing—Kiethara saw the massive boulder before she reached it. How they were going to get past that, she had no idea.

"Um, Aaron?" she said, pausing.

"Its fine, Kiethara, just keep walking."

"Eh?"

"It's an illusion. A branch of magic you will never need to learn."

Kiethara decided not to respond; instead, she took a deep breath. Walking through seemingly dense rock had not been on the top of her to-do list. She closed her eyes.

She didn't feel a thing as she walked through. There was only one thing she noticed as she did.

A light—a light so bright that it blinded her even though her eyes were closed—flooded whatever space she had walked into. She squinted, but the brilliant white light was too strong for her to make anything out. This could not be Aaron, no. This light was far stronger, and his light was more golden.

Kiethara put her hands in front of her face to shield herself; it took her several more minutes before she was able to open her eyes completely.

Kiethara tried to peer around her upraised hand to catch a glimpse of what was radiating so much luminosity. She let out a cry when she tried, however, throwing her arms over her face. Her eyes watered so badly that tears streamed out from behind her lids and spilled down her cheeks.

"Aaron," she gasped. "What is that?"

"My apologies, Kiethara. I forgot to warn you. That is my sword."

"Your _sword?_ "

"Yes."

"What is shining like that? Metal doesn't glow!"

"The crystals in the cross piece and pommel."

Kiethara frowned, his answer making her think. Had Aaron had crystals on his wrists when he was a guardian? Even if he did, she knew that her crystals had never shone so brightly before in her life.

"How am I supposed to see anything?" she demanded.

"Your shield, Kiethara," Aaron said in exasperation. "You really need to start applying what you know to what you _do_."

"I was distracted," she mumbled as her shield flew up, surrounding her in a golden sphere. The light that had been so bright now dimmed, as though she was underwater.

Kiethara took her hands away from her face and gasped.

She did not know the right words to describe what lay before her. A few feet in front of her were three marble stairs that led up to a ledge, which was also made of the same gleaming granite. On top of the ledge was another slab of marble, and embedded in it was the razor sharp blade of an immense sword. She could now see exactly what was causing so much of a fierce glow: in the crosspiece of the sword, in the very center, was a crystal the size of her fist.

It had no color, but it was every color. It shone like the sun. It shone like the rainbow; every faucet that had been skillfully cut reflected something different. There even seemed to be some colors she had never seen before and, when put together, the colors created a blinding white. Separate, they created a beautiful masterpiece.

After the shock of the sight before her went from incredulous to enthralled, she started to appreciate the other, smaller details of the sword. The handle was made of pure gold, a metal so heavy that it was known to be literally unbearable, yet to her it only proved that Aaron Prevel had and always would be an indestructible man and guardian. A ruby vine wrapped its way up the pommel and crosspiece. The ruby seemed to give the sword dominance to all who stood around it.

She thought it was rather unfortunate for the two swords that surrounded Aaron's terrifying and elegant weapon. They were beautiful as well, but they were nothing compared to what stood in between them.

"My son," Aaron said, pointing to the son to the right. "I gave him that place to honor him. On the left is my granddaughter, and continuing down in that direction are the descendants that follow. This cave continues on a spiral down to the bottom of the mountain."

Kiethara could do nothing but gape, her mind as frozen as the snow outside. How many more earth-shattering discoveries could she make? The world really was putting its weight a-top her shoulders. Eventually, she was going to explode.

"Kiethara?"

"Any more secrets you wish to tell me? Any canyons to the south that hold my secret bow?" she demanded.

Aaron chuckled. "Not quite, Kiethara. Now head left, for at the end of the line is your sword."

Her sword? As soon as he said that, it planted a seed in her head. What would it look like? She did not expect it to be as grand as his was, but still...a sword.

She began walking, her footsteps echoing eerily in the silent cave. Aaron walked next to her silently, illuminating the dark corners that the lit torches did not reach.

As she walked, she examined each sword that she traveled by. The stones in which the swords were embedded gave the guardian's name and years of life, just as Aaron had told her. Each sword seemed to have the same style blade, but the hilt was always different. The crystals were different, too, and sometimes the hilt would be gold, other times silver. Other minor details varied as well, making her wonder if they were all unique for the guardian that wielded them.

They walked down and down, until they reached the second to last sword.

The hilt was silver, but it was also wrapped in a sold line of gold that traveled up towards the blade. In the pommel and at both ends of the crosspiece, purple stones were set in the metal, glinting brightly even in the dull light.

One did not look at this sword and cringe in fear. When she saw it, she did not feel the need to defend herself. This sword emitted a gentle beauty; it almost seemed to be emanating compassion. _Compassion_. There was only one guardian she knew that could possibly pull something off like that.

Sure enough, the stone it was embedded into declared it to be her mothers.

Someone with so much kindness and love did not deserve to die. It seemed inappropriate that the reason behind her death was only that she had been too loving, too faithful to the life around her. But Kiethara did not pity her mother. She envied her too much.

Kiethara's heart hammered a little faster as she turned to her sword. Her stomach twanged in anticipation.

The stone beneath it had her name etched into it and the year she was born. A spot besides a dash was blank, waiting to record the year that she died.

A sleek blade ran up from the stone, three inches wide and three feet high. It was thin and slender, perfect for her size.

Her eyes ran up to the top of the blade, until they reached the hilt.

Somehow, it was even more graceful, if not as kind, as her mother's.

The hilt was gold, just as her bracelets were. Four crystals were set into the hilt; one in the pommel, two on either side of the crosspiece, and one directly in the center. They were all diamond shaped, but they were the exact color of the crystals she adorned on her wrists now.

They were not the only jewels decorating the exquisitely plated gold. Small, sparkling diamonds shimmered in the handle, all perfectly crafted to resemble falling leaves. They spiraled and glittered as they wove their magic around the hilt, hypnotizing her with the delusion they created. It was so extravagant; how could it be hers?

"Well, Kiethara," Aaron said after a few minutes. "What do you think?

Kiethara had no words.

CHAPTER 37

### PERCISION

Kiethara groaned, dragging her feet through the tall grass, weed, and shrubs. Her eyes drooped and her muscles ached in the way they had when she had finally returned to the forest. After hours of hiking and flying through the harsh temperatures and rough terrains, she felt like she was going to pass out.

The journey home had been twice as bad. Somehow, it had gotten even colder when they had exited the mountain. It had not been from the same entrance they had used halfway up, but from another hidden entrance towards the bottom. The storm had gotten worse, and she had been laden with a new burden to carry.

A brown leather belt wrapped its way around her waist, just above her vine belt. The sword—her sword, she should say—hung by her left hip. Her sheath was simple; brown with a silver finishing.

It was certainly a profligate treasure, yes, and one of the greater blessings she had ever had. But she didn't realize just how heavy a sword could be.

As soon as she broke through the trees and entered her clearing she unbuckled the weighty burden and tossed it onto one of the lower branches of a tree. She groaned again and stretched, feeling as though she had relieved herself of twenty pounds. She probably had.

After she removed her potions from her waist she collapsed into her hammock. She was out in seconds.

### ***

Every part of her body ached. Every single part.

She didn't even have to open her eyes. She knew exactly what was sore—everything—and it all throbbed in unison. She didn't want to move. She hardly wanted to breathe.

And now she expected that Aaron was going to force her through an entire day of sword training. There was only so much she could do before she fell apart. She was rather eager for that day to come, because then someone else might pick up her pieces and do her job for her.

It was cold out, too, making the idea of climbing out from under her warm robe and into the cool, crisp autumn air horrific. She couldn't remember a time where she had felt this reluctant about anything.

With that thought, she willed herself back to sleep.

She didn't know how long Aaron put up with her reluctant mood, but she felt like it had only been seconds when she was suddenly jolted awake.

"Time to get up, Kiethara," Aaron called loudly, filling her clearing with light.

"No," she mumbled with a groan, pulling her robe over her head.

"Yes. Much to do, so little time. You know how it is."

"That is not how I want it to be," she complained.

"I'm not going to give you any more alternatives, Kiethara," Aaron sighed. "Come on, up."

Her toasty warm robe peeled off in a sudden gust of wind. The cold air finally shook her resolve; she opened her eyes and pulled herself up.

"I'll meet you in the center of the forest."

As soon as his light faded away, she stood up and reached for her vine belt. She was careful not to look at her sword yet; instead, she allowed the anticipation to curl in her stomach. She remembered its beauty and she wanted to keep it special.

Kiethara smiled to herself as she finally looked up to see its hilt glittering in the morning sun. It truly was a dazzling piece of work. It was even elegant when her clumsy hands unsheathed it.

She marveled its sleek edges all the way to her lake, where she carefully laid it on the grass while she got a drink of water and washed up. After hooking it to her waist, checking the lakes reflection to see how it looked, she made her way to the center of the forest.

Aaron was waiting for her, just as he promised.

"Sword out and please take your vine belt off," he ordered.

She followed his instructions, weighing the blade in her hand. It felt nice, right, but it certainly was not light.

"Today, we will go over the basics of sword techniques. When used properly, a sword can be a very powerful weapon. It is more accurate than a bow and more defendable than a spear. The only downfall is that it is not easy to conceal, and it is not rare, either. There will be other people armed with this weapon. The element of surprise will not help you. There is only one thing that will give you an advantage: skill. And that is what we will be working on."

Kiethara nodded, absorbing everything he said like a wet cloth. She had expected nothing less, but the sore muscles in her arms were subtle reminders of the pain associated with working hard.

"Before you begin, I think I should explain to you why your sword is designed the way it is," he said.

Kiethara's eyes widened. "There's a reason?"

"Of course. Why else would all the swords be designed differently if there was no reason behind it? No, there are many reasons. First, the hilt is made to match the same metal of the guardian's bracelets; in your case, gold, although it is only a thin coating a-top a lighter metal. Also, the stone, gem, or crystal you have in your bracelets are represented in the hilt as well. These places vary from guardian to guardian, but they all have one of their crystals placed in the pommel."

"What about the other details?"

"That is a little more exact, depending on the guardian's personal traits and taste. I'm sure you find the sword to your liking?"

"Yes, thank you, Aaron."

"Your gratitude is not necessary," he chuckled. "However, you are welcome."

Kiethara twisted her sword in the sunlight, watching the diamonds glisten, pensive. Gandador had a sword, one he had probably owned for quite some time. No doubt he knew how to use it.

"Let us start," Aaron said, making her jump.

"All right..."

"You are a fast learner, Kiethara, but sword training is different. You have only trained with your emotions, because that is the key to your powers; however, it is different in sword to sword combat. The less emotion you let cloud your judgment, the better advantage you will hold. Only very rarely does emotion help you win in a sword battle and, in your case, it can be different. You might be fighting well, but what if your hands burst into flames and you lose concentration?

"We will start with the basic defense this first week. Only with a good defense can you eventually perfect an offense.

"Now, Kiethara, I will come at you, and you will block me."

Aaron turned around and picked something off the grass she had not spotted before. It was a long stretch of wood, shaped like a blade and sharpened to a fine point. She could fully understand the reason behind it; if he had been using his own sword, her eyes would be bleeding after the first five minutes.

Aaron lunged with the tip of the wood pointed directly at her heart. She clumsily grasped her sword with two hands and knocked it away, but before she could blink he whipped the sword down and knocked her legs out from under her. With a gasp, she hit the ground.

"Ow!" she complained.

"This is not the time for me to go easy on you, so I will not apologize. Your reactions are slow and you need to be a bit more graceful. Maybe we should work on your upper body strength first, though," Aaron mused as the sword dropped out of her hand as she pulled herself up.

"I'm not doing push-ups all day," she growled. Not after she had received a sword to wield.

"All right, as long as you continue the physical training I made you do every day, five times a day. Add an extra ten pull-ups to that, too."

She moaned, throwing her head back. Maybe she was being a bit lazy, but she was just _so_ sore. As soon as she had returned to the forest, Aaron had done nothing but pound her with technique after technique and task after task. Gandador had not reared his ugly head in the forest for weeks!

"Never mind that now, Kiethara, just raise your sword and get ready. Watch carefully, for I will move slowly."

He did the same straight lunge at her heart as he had done before, but in a slower motion. This time she was a bit more prepared; she knocked it aside. In the same exaggerated motion he redirected his blow towards her legs. She jumped over his blade and brought her sword down on his shoulder.

It rebounded off Aaron as though he were made of metal. The sound echoed off the trees loudly, sending a flock of birds into the air.

"Huh," she commented as she watched the birds fly away.

"Good," he said, ignoring the response her blow had received. "But concentrate on blocking my blows today, not just on hitting me."

"Yes, Aaron."

"What you want to do is take advantage of your size. You're small and light, so your defense will be better if you keep on your toes and continuously move, making sure to keep your back protected. One mistake can mean your life—I mean this literally. Take heed to my words."

"I always do," she said to her defense.

"Well, listen to me twice as hard then," he said gravely. "Say you decided not to keep light on your toes, but instead you planted your feet. You just gave your opponent an advantage, because physically Gandador could push you back and corner you."

Kiethara finally processed his mood. He was more serious then she had ever seen him before and behind his hardened tones lay something else. Why was he so staid about the idea of her with a tangible weapon?

"You're really serious about this, aren't you?"

"Yes, Kiethara, you must understand this perfectly! Precision is what will save your life!" he urged.

Kiethara frowned. Out of everything, she did not expect to die by the blade of a sword. Gandador had lost his mind, anyway, so he didn't want to kill her. Instead, he wanted to gorge the crystals out of her wrists in a fruitless attempt to make himself become a guardian. That might require a sword, but still...

"Aaron," she said slowly. "Did a guardian die in a sword fight?"

He was silent for a minute. He then took a deep breath.

"My great-grandsons."

" _Grandsons_?" she asked.

"Yes, they were twins. It is possible for there to be two guardians, if the previous guardian conceives them as such. It is rare, and each guardian only gets one bracelet. Other than that, nothing is different, except for double the fighting force. The forest was never attacked when word got out that there were two. It had only happened twice, this time and one other."

"Then how did they die by a blade if they weren't even attacked?" she asked.

"They weren't attacked by others."

"They fought each other?" she gasped.

"They both held an exceptionally large amount of power and they were both proud men. Eventually, the annoyance and frustration of guarding together got to be too much for them. One day, they drew their swords and brawled each other to death.

"It wasn't a long fight. One of them had a harder build, and the other decided that if he planted his feet and blocked his brother's blows, he would eventually wear him out. In one wrong move, he was stabbed.

"He did not die right away, but bled slowly. In that moment his brother finally saw what he had done. He desperately tried to save his wounded companion, but it was too late. He caught a fever that would not break and then, two nights later, he died."

A profound silence filled the air around them. Kiethara did not know how to respond. He had just revealed to her the past of another guardian— _guardians_ , she corrected herself. She had never dreamed of sharing the power with a sibling. What if Gandador managed to take one of her bracelets while she held on to the other? Would they both be guardians then? She wanted to ask him, but her question seemed insensitive with the brutal ending of the story.

"I'm sorry, Aaron," she finally managed.

"It's fine. The past is the past, but to avoid history from repeating itself we must be aware of our mistakes and learn from them."

"Of course," she agreed. "But I have a question."

"Oh?"

"If it's possible for there to be two guardians, could it not be possible for Gandador to become one?"

Aaron laughed, breaking all tension. "Heavens no! He has nothing. He is no descendant of mine. Soon, Kiethara, very soon, you will understand just how much magic you possess. If Gandador ever attempted it, he would die."

"He would die?"

"You will soon learn—I do not wish to reveal any more on that matter—the immense power of this forest. Every person alive right now could cut down a tree from this forest and make a potion out of it, and there would still be enough forest and magic left to supply the next generation. You can hold all of that power without dying. He would die instantaneously, as though he had drowned."

Kiethara gaped at him. "Really?"

"Don't get excited, Kiethara. You would not die, but you would suffer. Holding that much power does have its disadvantages. If you ever took in too much, you would start to feel heavy; your breathing would be shallow and physical activities would become strenuous. Your heart would be beating so fast it would be impossible to sleep; you would sweat yourself until the point of dehydration. Your thoughts would be clouded and you wouldn't be able to focus. It's much worse than I can possibly describe. Most of the guardians kept a low amount at hand and then they take from the forest whenever they want."

He paused for a moment. "Of course, you cannot draw too much power in your state. If you do it too early, you could die just as Gandador will."

"What?" she asked, perplexed.

"This is something I will explain later, when it is necessary. The information would only confuse and disturb you. But very soon, many things will become clear to you. You may notice that I leave many points undefined and I feel bad for doing so, but at the time it is compulsory to do so. I know you question how people take magic from the forest and I know you have a vague idea. You question your past as well as your future. You question your powers, and many other things. Fortunately, one day I will reveal to you all of those answers."

"How do you know all this?" she whispered.

She could practically feel the smile stretch across his featureless face. "That answer is not ready to be revealed to you either."

She said nothing, but her fingers were clenched in some unknown emotion. The sword in her hand felt hot, heavy, and very crude. She wanted to drop the crafted weapon, its size and power suddenly seeming arrogant to her, and resort to the subtle elegance and easy swiftness her powers provided her. For a reason she knew not, Aarons chilling words sparked a burst of adrenaline through her veins as her heart beat became quicker. She suddenly wanted to do something. She wanted to take Gandador by the collar and fling him out to sea; she wanted to take Sinsenta's dagger and stab him through his heart. Standing there only seemed to make the feeling worse. Everything was building inside her; fear of Aaron's words, stress of the unknown, suspense from her prowling enemies, and confusion on just what was on her side.

Aaron said he would explain all of this soon, and she wanted to take reassurance in that promise. She needed to be confidant that she would have a future. More than anything, she needed to be confidant that she could protect the forest. And maybe, just maybe, she could have the peace due to her.

On top of everything else that swirled inside of her, happiness welled up in her heart.

"Let us duel," Aaron said.

She wanted nothing more.

CHAPTER 38

### GUARDED

Images flashed through her mind.

Some of them were colorful, others were bleak. She tried to focus on each one, but as she concentrated, the image swirled into something new. It was frustrating, yet she remained surprisingly patient, waiting for the images around her to make sense. She figured they were all just pieces to a puzzle that, eventually, would all decide to come together.

Kiethara focused harder, trying to find some rhyme or reason to their pattern. She noticed one image that kept repeating. All she could see of it was that it had a looming, foggy figure in the background. For some reason, the sight of it made her raise her arm—the scar running down it in a vivid pink—in a sense of longing that pierced her heart fiercely.

The images swirled into something else. Again and again they changed, and again she waited patiently. She was no longer concentrating on trying to see all of the images; no, now she only looked for that one image, hoping it would decide to repeat itself. That figure captivated her in a way like nothing else had. If she could—

The image came again, interrupting her thoughts, and with it came a force that shook her violently. All obscurity was gone; everything was suddenly in perfect detail.

No. It could not be.

Gandador stood before her, a sneer plastered on his face. In his hand was a sword, crimson liquid dripping off of its tip. Her own hand, which was reaching out in front of her, was bloody as well, tears of it rolling down her fingertips and into the pool at her feet.

Kiethara gasped, raising her head from her hammock slightly. Sweat rolled down her cheek like a tear. She felt her throat close around a scream, but she swallowed it back, resisting it.

She took control.

After a few more minutes her heart eventually slowed to its normal pace. Her breathing steadied, the chilly air cooling her skin. She pulled herself up and rubbed her eyes, letting the fear in her chest fade.

She was proud of herself for keeping everything in check. Goodness knows she did not want a repeat of what had happened in the past. Losing control was terrible. The thought of it made her shudder. There was no feeling compared to that.

Of course, one of those memories wasn't completely stained black. The feeling of Aaron's constricting arms around her torso had been completely alien, but it was still the closest thing she had ever gotten to a hug from him.

Kiethara closed her eyes, trying to recall what she had been dreaming about in the first place. She could only remember flashes, but none of them were clear or defined. Whatever it had been, it certainly didn't matter now.

She swept her robe off the forest floor. It must have fallen off of her during the night, which would explain her frozen limbs.

She quickly hiked to her lake, eating an armful of food on the way. She felt her bruises, but rather than look at them, she kept her eyes on her food and her path. Seeing them would only make them hurt worse.

When she got to her lake, her mind had traveled elsewhere. Without realizing what she was doing, she stepped into the water to take a bath.

She yelped and yanked her foot out of the water, falling back onto the grass. Was it possible for water to be _that_ cold but not be frozen? Her foot might have fallen off if it had been there any longer! But she did need to wash.

After a moment of deep thought, she took her hand and placed it over the water. Aaron had already explained the mechanics of combining two elements. So fire and water...sorrow and anger. What made her angry and sad at the same time? What sparked her tears while it clenched her fists?

Her mother's death.

Focusing as hard as she could on the memory, she let her emotions get the best of her. Her crystals glowed, while the water beneath her rippled slightly, as though she had dipped her fingertip into it.

Holding her breath, she brought her hand down into the water.

A sigh escaped her lips, which lifted at the corners. Lukewarm was a lot better than freezing. She flexed her numb fingers and ran them through the water. A foot from where her hand had hovered, the water was still freezing. So a bath was out.

But that didn't mean she couldn't get clean. She took off her robe and soaked it in the warm water and then ran it down her leg, leaving a trail of goose bumps.

Hah! Aaron couldn't complain about her not applying her knowledge to her actions now!

### ***

Kiethara reentered her clearing with a smug smile still dancing on her face, a feeling of refreshment radiating off of her. She wrung out her dripping robe and hung it on a branch.

She looked over at her other possessions, a sword and a couple of glass bottles. She would put them on later, as soon as she accomplished some of the physical training Aaron continued to badger her about. There was no way she could do pull-ups with the sword around her waist. She could barely lift it above her head.

She had only done seven when a voice rang out behind her.

"You see, Markii, I did not exaggerate! Of course, I had not expected to walk in on this, exactly, but it does nothing but prove my point! Not to mention, I can see she has a sword now. Our tribe has a much higher opinion of women than the kingdoms, but this just goes up and beyond!

"Oh, and see there, near her sword is her vine of potions. That silver one is mighty rare; it takes a lot of power to make something like that. You want to know what it does? It heals any external injury, in just the matter of a few seconds! But I didn't bring you here to lecture you about potions, now did I?"

Durga's voice finally silenced. Her words had flown out so fast that Kiethara was barely able to drop to the ground and turn around by the time she finished.

Durga's piercing gaze was the first thing she saw. The old woman had not changed much since their last encounter. In fact, she even held the same bottles in her hand, no doubt to make some more potions. The only difference in her appearance was the young man that stood beside her.

He looked to be a few years old than she was. His skin was just a shade darker than Sinsenta's, but, in comparison, his black hair was very short. He had broad shoulders that were held stiff, a taunt jaw, and flexed muscles. On his back was a sword.

A dark blue, almost black shirt fitted his torso. A belt—made of brown leather—wrapped around his waist and across his chest, securing his weapon, while baggy, dark pants hid the tight brown boots upon his feet.

His most alarming feature, however, was his eyes.

They were gray. Nothing terribly rare or exceedingly flamboyant. In fact, not one thing about him gave the expression of flamboyancy. No emotion showed in his eyes, no feelings were portrayed in his features. It was not as though he were struggling to hide it, though; it was as though the emotions were never there to begin with. He did not look bored, curious, or anything of the sort. He looked as though he were guarding something.

He was controlled.

"I believe not," he said, answering Durga's question. His voice matched the rest of him. Void of anything that could betray him.

"Look at her, standing there so shocked! It's not as though she's never seen me before! _Ah_ , but she has never seen you, and we did barge in on her. I didn't know what to expect returning to this place again, but I'm already having fun! Hah!

"Now, we did interrupt her, so maybe we should give her a minute. Although technically, she interrupted me last time, so one would say I'm only returning the favor. Reminds me of a time my one son barged in on Zyna in her father's tent. I was surprised the boy wasn't skinned alive, but I got him out of it. He still owes me for life, that man does.

"Ah, I'm rambling now. Let me introduce you to the guardian, Kiethara. Kiethara, this here is Markii."

Markii nodded in her direction, but his eyes were sweeping the surrounding trees. Careful, observant.

"H-Hello," she stuttered. She was scrambling to remember the conversation she and Durga had had. It seemed so long ago, almost like a dream.

"Been a while, hasn't it?" Durga asked, as though she could read her thoughts. "Well over two months. Winter seems to have finally arrived, unfortunately. Beware, for a storm is brewing to the northeast. Of course, I forgot with whom I am speaking to. I am sure you have your own unique ways to deal with these harsh times?"

"Not particularly," she replied, desperately trying to keep up with Durga's quick tongue. "Winter is a hard time for me as well. Frozen lakes and snow storms aren't very enjoyable here in the forest."

Durga walked forward, Markii trailing behind her silently. The old woman's small, watery eyes scrutinized her, making Kiethara slightly uncomfortable, though she did not avert her own gaze. Markii's eyes were still sweeping the area surrounding them with an intensity that made her feel rather small. It was as though he expected an army to emerge out of the trees. And something told her that if one had, he wouldn't hesitate to use that sword of his.

"You don't look well," Durga commented. "You're covered in bruises and you look like you've received a beating, but that's not all. It might have been a while since our first encounter, but there is something different about you...I just can't put my finger on it. It's as though you have an enlightened look to your eyes—which are beautiful, by the way—and I can see that you have gained much in our time apart, besides height. I hate feeling short, but it can't be helped when I hang around youngsters. I bring it on myself.

"Enough of this! Now, tell us what you've been up to."

Kiethara bit her lip. Should she tell them? Durga had posed no threat to her, but this man Markii seemed a bit intimidating.

"I realized that I have more enemies than I first thought," she said slowly, hoping she had said enough but not given away anything too useful.

Durga's eyes narrowed exactly as they had when she had warned her about Gandador. Durga took all threats seriously, and it seemed Markii did too, for his restless eyes finally settled intently on her face.

"Who might they be?" she asked.

"Four men from Nikkoi, but none of them can use magic," Kiethara paused for a moment. "They have this jewel that can render opponents incapable of using any power besides their fists. Even then, you can't fight for long."

Kiethara turned around and walked towards the trees supporting her hammock, letting her guests digest what she had said. She slipped on her sword and her vine of bottles before turning around to see Durga staring at the ground and Markii's unnerving gaze focusing on her every move.

"And you've been confronted by these men?" Durga asked, looking up.

Kiethara chewed over her words carefully. The recent events had led her to be more cautious, which surprised her, for she usually threw everything to the wind and prayed for the best.

"Yes, I have."

Durga raised an eyebrow at the lack of information, but she made no more comments on the matter.

"Any more news on Gandador, child? The last thing you left me with was a cryptic warning and some concern for my well-being! Don't get me wrong, I was glad you told me, even if the news angered me a little. Such heart behind your words! When you decide to be serious, my goodness, do you put a chill in my bones. As you are right now! Every word you've spoken has been drenched in caution and now you have armed yourself with that shiny new weapon of yours despite the fact that your company means you no harm.

"It's a great contrast to your last appearance. Then, if I may say so, you were openly surprised, curious, and relaxed. Now you are restrained, although not entirely, my dear. No offense, but concealing your emotions is not one of your strong points. Your transparency leads to your charm, though."

Kiethara couldn't hold back the smile that split her solemn face; Durga had always amused her. She had just come at the wrong time. Kiethara was sore and irritable from training. Durga's presence was reminding her of times that she was trying to forget; however, she had always felt that Durga had a right to know...

"Now that wasn't too terrible, was it? You need to relax and, after you do that, you can explain. Our tribe takes any threats against it very seriously. We need to know of all enemies that have the potential to become a menace. A threat to the guardian of the forest is a threat to us as well."

Kiethara nodded, her eyes flickering to Markii. Their gaze met, and his gray eyes bore into hers. She looked away fast, cheeks reddening.

Kiethara then took a deep breath, feeling as though she were sacrificing some part of herself for these two. How many times could she bear to repeat the words before it would be impossible to forget them? She had woven it into a tale by now, one that they could easily take back with them and tell over a blazing fire to a group of frightened children, regaling them with the tales of the foolish guardian trapped in another word. That image in mind, she launched into her explanation of the events that had come to pass. She stopped her story after her escape from the four men, making it seem that she had returned directly to the forest. The rest of the story, despite its significance to her, was not important to them.

Durga's eyes got narrower and narrower as her story went on, but Markii's expression did not change. Kiethara wondered if he had ever used another expression before in his life.

When she was done, the two of them stood in silence. But nothing could silence Durga for long.

"I no longer have a reason to call you a child now, I'm afraid. You have been through quite an ordeal"—Durga didn't know the half of it, literally—"and I thank you for telling us this. We will be on our guard for these four men.

"Times are changing, or have been changing, whichever you prefer. The people out there are split into two groups now: one group wants nothing to do with magic and the other is filled with greed at the sight of it. Such extremes! Very few can find the balance between the two. The legends of the guardians are slowly fading into myths and there is more division between the kingdoms than ever before. What can this mean? Views, morals, and motives are changing while tradition is slipping away. Why is this? I do not think we can blame one man for what is happening, though we would all like to hold Gandador accountable. I think a fear has taken root, a fear whose roots are creating cracks in the foundation. Fear has either inspired people to shut the magic from their homes completely, or it had inspired people to take as much as they can while they can and misuse it. Many people have realized that the power here is too much to control and, with one too many people having seen its effects, I think it's safe to say that they are scared. Even now, we walk into the forest and are overwhelmed by the air—so pure it is almost heavy. Who can cope with this? You, the guardian, are the only one who can."

Kiethara was lost for words, her mouth hanging open in a most unbecoming way. Of course, Durga was not.

"Hah! Such heavy words for a few companions! Shall we lighten the mood? I need to go brew up a potion. Dull work that no one needs to sit and watch me do. You two, stay here. I'll be back momentarily."

Durga sauntered off surprisingly fast for a woman of her age. Her bottles clinked together in her hands, creating an eerie sound long after she had disappeared into the trees.

Kiethara turned to Markii, who was staring after Durga with the same unfathomable expression. How in the world was she supposed to start a conversation with him? He had only spoken a few words, and those had been directed at Durga. The silence was not awkward, though...it was intimidating.

"Are you related to Durga in any way?" she asked tentatively.

Markii's attention focused on her, but only for a moment. His eyes roamed the line of trees again.

"No," he said.

"Oh."

It was silent again. Kiethara was lost for any way to start a conversation; no new questions came to mind. Compared to Durga's rapid chatter, Markii might as well have been mute.

Markii did not seem uncomfortable. There was, well, no change in his expression since the moment he had walked into her clearing. His posture was stiff, jaw tight, and eyes all too intense. She envied him for his ability—to make it impossible for anybody to guess what he was thinking. Aaron always knew everything and Gandador read her face like a book, anticipating her every move. Markii did not have that weakness.

He didn't seem to have any weakness.

"Have you had your sword for very long?" she asked desperately, unable to stand the silence any longer.

"Long enough."

Kiethara opened her mouth to respond, but then she shut it again. She really didn't have a response to that. His voice was guarded. It was almost as if he meant that to be a threat.

Maybe he just wasn't one for conversation.

Kiethara could feel the awkward embarrassment on her face, causing her to bite back a scowl. Compared to Markii, she felt like a fool. He just stood there, watching her flounder around with those intense, unrelenting eyes.

Trying not to take too much offense, Kiethara looked around her own clearing. Attempting to talk to Markii was like talking to herself. No wonder Durga was his companion, for she talked so much he never had the ability to get a word in...and it wasn't like he had any opinion to interrupt her with.

"So...make yourself at home," she said a bit scornfully, turning her back on him and walking towards her hammock. She regretted her tone as soon as she had spoken the words. She did not need to make another enemy. On one of the two trees supporting her hammock, she quickly grew two plump apples. She picked them both and then turned around. What would he do? She had a strong urge to figure out the answer.

She raised her hand and tossed it at him. With lightening reflexes he caught it—she watched him keenly as he stared at it for a moment. And then he looked up and inclined his head in thanks.

Kiethara and Markii ate in silence, but she felt a bit more relaxed now that she was doing something with her hands. So was he, even though he swallowed the apple in three bites and tossed the core before she had taken two.

He resumed the same demeanor, scanning the forest with his gray eyes. What could have happened to make him like this, she wondered.

What would make him so guarded?

CHAPTER 39

### REVENGE

Kiethara slowly bent her knees, wincing as her potion bottles clinched together slightly. Her sword stuck out at an odd angle on her hip while her hair twitched in the chilled wind. She did not even dare to breathe.

Ten feet in front of her stood an elegant deer. It bent its slender head down towards the lush grass beneath it, picking at the tall blades. It eyed Kiethara with caution, but it did not seem to see her as an immediate threat. If it had, it would have been long gone.

Long gone. That explained Durga and Markii perfectly. Their visit had been weeks ago and, ever since then, she could not stop musing over Markii's... _personality_. If that's what you could call it. After they had left, she had attempted to try a day where she felt no emotion, but she had hardly made it through lunch. Sometimes her daydreams about Navadar got a little out of hand...

Durga's words proved true when she woke up one day shaking. A thin layer of snow had covered her clearing, continuing to patch throughout the forest when it managed to make it past the bare trees. Her lake had frozen over, but, like always, the guardian's lake remained the same, untouched by both weather and time.

The snow had not hindered Kiethara's training. Fire had suddenly become one of Aaron's priorities due to the cold weather that had befallen them. Thankfully, the winter did not seem as bad anymore, now that she had a sufficient way to stay warm. She was so far advanced that she hardly needed to recall memories of rage anymore, just like how she used her shield, the wind, and the earth element. And soon, the winter would be behind her.

Her attention was drawn back to the scene in front of her as two more deer entered her line of vision. They attempted to pick at the small patch that the original deer had been chewing on. Food would be scarce for them this winter.

No sooner then when she contemplated the thought did two more deer weave their way into her line of vision. They were so graceful in their movements; she knew that one clumsy move from her would send them off through the trees almost as fast as she could fly.

Yet it was not like she could stay in her position forever. Her toes were on fire from squatting on them for so long and she was frozen from being immobile. She needed to walk around.

Kiethara stood up, her joints cracking in cadence to her movement. As soon as she did, however, all of the deer jolted upright, ears up and bodies prepared to run. At first, she thought it was in reaction to her movement.

But they were all staring in the opposite direction.

Her heart froze as her gut wrenched. Her instinct screamed out at her to bolt, but, like the deer, she was frozen to the ground she stood on.

The ground trembled slightly under her and a strange stomping noise echoed through the trees. The deer were gone in a flash, swiftly sprinting through the frozen ferns and shrubs. She began to back up, her mouth opening wide as the bark of the trees around her were illuminated in an orange glow.

Sinsenta barreled through the trees with a yell, wielding two flaming daggers above his head. His tan face was contorted into a sneer, mangling the scar that marked the lower half of it. His hair flew widely around him, only adding to the chaos his presence inscribed.

She barely had time to lean back as the metal inferno slashed through the air. The heat was so strong it singed her cheek.

Kiethara's right hand flew towards her left hip and drew her sword. It seemed so large compared to the smaller daggers, but it was every bit as deadly and it was all she had.

Well, that and her powers.

The winds began to whip at Sinsenta, who had turned around to attack her again. The flames on his daggers flickered, but they did not snuff out. He raised them again.

Her shield flew up, blocking his next move. He struck the golden sphere again, but the dagger could not penetrate it. It was a very peculiar feeling, as though she really was holding up a metal shield and the dagger was bouncing off of it.

She closed her eyes and focused harder on her fear, while Aaron's training resounded in her head. Her heart was pounding almost painfully, but she did not panic. Instead, she turned her knowledge into wisdom. She was now an efficient and organized fighter; not the same foolish girl who had been as sloppy as she had been lucky.

Her shield expanded, throwing him against a tree. His daggers finally went out, and she saw that underneath the flames the metal remained unblemished. He rolled twice on the ground and, without warning, he snatched up one of the weapons and flung it at her now unprotected body, the dagger bursting into flames in midair.

But her reflexes were well practiced now, thanks to Aaron's hard-core lessons. Without them, she would not have been able to duck in time. The dagger whizzed past her head, sending her hair up around her in its wind before thudding quietly against the trunk of a tree. She quickly put the flames out with her winds.

Sinsenta was back on his feet again, panting heavily. One dagger still remained in his hand.

"You've gotten better," he commented, tilting his head to the side. His eyes still made her uneasy.

"Do you think this time around I'll be able to make the top half of your face match the bottom?" she replied icily, raising an eyebrow.

He snarled as the dagger in his hand burst into flames. They began to circle each other, Kiethara quickly snatching up a blade of grass and tying her hair back. She would send Sinsenta back to Gandador in a box.

Sinsenta lunged again, his teeth bared. She pulled to the side, expecting him to blow right past her, but instead he spun on his heel and sliced through the air. This time she was not quick enough. The flames caught her right hand, causing her to drop her sword onto the ground, where she followed it quickly to dodge another blow.

Kiethara clutched her hand to her chest and crawled behind a tree, pressing her back up against it. Suddenly, there was no sign of Sinsenta, not even a whisper. Carefully, very carefully, she examined her hand. It was not as bad as it felt; nothing, at least, looked like it would scar permanently. To her, that was all that mattered. She didn't want another scar from this man; she didn't want him to have the pleasure of signing his signature onto her. She glared angrily at the white-pink scar that trailed down the length of her arm for a moment. The question was whether or not she should use her potion on it. It hindered her, certainly, but not completely. She could still fight with it, just not with her sword.

She then noticed how quiet it really was. Her heart took off as she looked around her. Sinsenta could be anywhere, doing anything. What if he appeared right in front of her and stabbed her? If she called out tauntingly, would he answer? Or would it just give away her position? She bit her lip.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Sinsenta's voice rang out, relaxed and mocking. It didn't sound close.

A sudden idea came to mind. Trying to be as quiet about it as possible, she pulled herself up into the tree she was leaning on, careful not to use her right hand too much. The branches were thick enough and close enough for her to walk on them with ease. She would never have to touch the ground.

She began skulking along the branches, stepping as lightly as possible, ducking to avoid rustling any of the leaves on the trees that still had them.

"How's your master?" she called out.

Sinsenta appeared right beneath her, dagger ready. She jumped lightly to the neighboring tree with bated breath, but he did not look up. People never did.

"He is ambitious. He wants nothing more than to control the forest." Sinsenta was obviously trying to make her speak again, but this time she heard a weakness in his voice.

"So you believe he is beginning to embrace insanity as well?" she asked, hopping from branch to branch while ignoring the pain in her hand. "You doubt him now and you believe his quest is useless. Yet you refuse to defy him! What does that make you? A coward or a love-sick puppy?"

Sinsenta's enraged hiss made her smile. He disappeared and reappeared ten feet in front of her. She giggled and jumped silently to another tree, watching him spin widely in an attempt to see her. Her laugh echoed eerily throughout the forest.

"He is not insane!" Sinsenta called loudly. "It is possible! His plan makes sense!"

"Lies!" she yelled back, weaving through leaves and bark. "If he managed to lay his filthy paws on my crystals, how is he planning on putting them in his skin? And say he does manage that! Before he dies in attempt, how will he get them to work for him? He has none of Aaron's blood! It will not work! Greed has seized his sense and twisted it! You see it too!"

"Whether I see it or not is none of your concern! I pick the stronger side, not the saner one! If Gandador does not kill you, I will! I fight for my son; he does not need all this magical nonsense in his life. All this power does is cause strife, turmoil, and insanity! And yet you continue to protect it!"

"Only the insane use it for insanity! For others, it is a blessing!"

She quickly ran into the next tree.

"Would you not protect what is yours?" she continued. "Would you not defend your rightful heritage? The forest is mine, so I fight for it! I defend it! I would not desert my home, and I would not betray my ancestors."

She leaped into another tree, Sinsenta helplessly confused beneath her. She needed to act now, but she loathed giving up her advantage. Or maybe she didn't have to.

Kiethara closed her eyes and brought forth the exact memories she needed to become invisible. She opened her eyes, satisfied to see only tree limbs, none of her own. With a smile, she jumped down and landed on the ground besides him. He was frozen, listening intently as he scanned the forest. His eyes would not help him now.

Kiethara crouched and then sprung, twisting midair, kicking his last dagger out of his hand. Sinsenta cursed and turned to face her. She laughed aloud at his bewildered expression.

Her laugh, however, broke her concentration, and she turned visible once again. He sneered and brought his fist down on her side.

From that point on it was only instincts and Aaron's teachings that ruled her mind. It became a battle of limbs and, although he was stronger, she was swifter. He received a foot to the stomach; she received a fist to her cheek.

Sweat rolled down her brow as she blocked another one of Sinsenta's blows. Every muscle in her body was on fire. Sinsenta crouched and kicked her legs out from under her. She rolled on the grass, but he caught her foot by the ankle. Using her other foot, she spun and kicked him in the face. He released her with a mad howl.

She pulled herself upright and backed up. Her breathing was labored and her skin was beginning to bruise. She felt blood trickle down her chin: her lip was cut.

Anger flared inside her as her hands burst into flames. Sinsenta jumped up as well, rubbing his nose.

Kiethara sliced her flaming hands through the air, sending a wave of flames towards his direction. He pared her blow with fire of his own.

Their fight continued; however, it increased in tempo, adding in the extra element to utilize to their individual advantages. She used it because it was the easiest emotion she could feel without having to focus on it; he used it because it was his best element that he fought with. She did not complain; it was light, swift, and easy to conjure quickly. It was fire against fire.

"Time for my revenge!" he growled, sending a flaming ball at her face. She couldn't help but notice, even in the heat of the battle, how differently they used the element. Her flames covered her entire hand, her crystals protecting the flesh underneath. He, on the other hand, was not able to let the flames go anywhere near his skin. They appeared a hairs breath away from his fingertips, and they did not stay there for long. He might be able to project them onto other objects, but she had the feeling that her method deemed her exceptionally more powerful. He beat her in years, not strength.

"You can try," she growled in return, dodging his strike. He was slowly pushing her back—she was losing ground through the trees. Sinsenta's attacks were becoming more and more ferocious; she kept having to throw up her shield more and more, hindering herself from attacking back. He only became even more incensed when his blows failed to reach his target. Aaron's words sounded in her head, warning her.

Kiethara skipped backwards, knocking Sinsenta's fist aside with her forearm. Her right hand burned painfully, pulling her face into a permanent grimace. Sweat stung her eyes, even though she was standing in a small pile of snow.

"Soon you will know what it feels like to have your own flesh burnt off," Sinsenta hissed, tossing another blast of fire at her.

"Soon you will be reliving that experience," she spat.

He roared and threw his entire body at her, catching her off guard. His head rammed her stomach, knocking her breath out of her as she hit the ground and skidded to a stop. Shivering, as her limbs were buried in snow, she raised her head and was momentarily derailed by the clear sky above her. He had knocked her into the clearing that beheld her lake. She gazed at the sun in shock, turning her head to take in the glistening water before her—only the edges had remained frozen with the days rising temperatures.

Kiethara thrust her knee up into Sinsenta's gut. She would not be found under him, helpless, again. He grunted and rolled off of her and, before he could recover, Kiethara pulled the bottle filled with blue liquid from her vine belt.

Her aim was never very good with potions and he had been moving, so she considered herself lucky that the potion managed to splash onto his forearm. Sinsenta gasped and jerked away from her, clutching his elbow like a maniac. Kiethara smiled a devilish smile; she knew the effects of that potion quite well.

Making it had not been easy. She had spent all day trying, only to fail again and again. The last couple attempts had failed only because of her frustration at Aaron. He had told her that he would teach her a new potion under one consideration: she would have to use it on herself to find out what it did. She had, and she had screamed aloud for twenty minutes after until her voice had given out.

It paralyzed the area of the muscle it made contact with. It was like a painful freezing that seared through flesh and smoldered inside bone and there was nothing—absolutely nothing—you could do to ease its horrendous feeling. It lasted for hours, though, eventually, it wore off. She could still remember Aaron's exact words:

" _I made you experience that so you won't abuse it. It can kill someone if aimed correctly. Do not use this potion unless you have to."_

Kiethara would have loved to use it on Gandador, but after what he had done to her last potion, she hadn't even bothered. The last thing she wanted to do was remake it, but at least this time she had managed to hit her target.

Kiethara looked over at Sinsenta, the cruel smile still spread wide across her face. He grimaced in pain, stumbling to the side.

"What the hell did you do to me, you little bastard?!" he bellowed. Birds flew out of the surrounding trees.

"You'll find out when you return to your master, but by that time your arm will have fallen off," she exaggerated smoothly. "Better head off now."

Sinsenta roared, enraged, but clearly torn. Kiethara was surprised he was falling for her bluff. Maybe the potion was even stronger than she remembered.

"You deserve to die!" he screamed at her. "Just like your mother!"

"Leave my mother out of this," Kiethara said in a low voice. His words no longer sent anger through her. She had heard them too many times. Instead, they only brought a wave of sadness.

"I'll leave only the innocent out of this! And your mother was far from innocent!"

"Oh, shut up!" she snapped. "You are trying to feed me lies to make up for your own pain! How pathetic!"

"You want to know what's pathetic?" he asked. "A fifteen year old girl who takes her orders from a spirit and allows men to come in and out of this forest without thinking about it twice! Sounds a little lonely to me, eh?"

Sadness erupted in her chest. She ground her teeth and clenched her fists. How did he get into her head like this? How could he bring forth emotions she had not felt in months?

"You are lonely. You have no one. They come and go as they please; their normal lives continue on without you. Just what, exactly, are you protecting?"

She shook her head: the forest did matter; there was no question about that. It must have an effect on the lives outside the forest. Redawn was the only kingdom that didn't use magic...

"You have no reasons, you fool! Your cause is pointless and your life is meaningless!"

Kiethara screamed and slashed her arm through the air, her crystals glowing brightly. The surface of the lake rippled before their eyes, and then a huge geyser of water erupted from it. It twisted in the air, glittering as though a thousand diamonds were flying through the sky, winking at her from above, before it shot directly at Sinsenta.

Halfway through its flight it turned into ice. Giant, jagged pieces cut through the air like knives and, as she stared at them, transfixed, she could suddenly feel them, as though she was the element that she was controlling. She grabbed a hold of this connection and pushed them towards him, her mind blank except for thoughts of her own revenge. Revenge for the words that had cut her into jagged pieces.

Sinsenta screamed once.

And then he disappeared.

CHAPTER 40

### APPRECIATED

Kiethara collapsed onto the ground. For a few minutes she couldn't focus on anything else besides her labored breathing. When it slowed, the throbbing in her hand made her grimace up at the graying sky.

She had heard the ice falling back to the ground, thumping and clicking as the shards fell down into the snow. _Ice._ She was on emotional overdrive, but if that's what it took to use the water element, she had better get used to it.

His words still sounded strongly in her mind. Why was she guarding the forest? Everything had a reason. Everything needed a reason. Ever since she was born, it had been wired into her head to protect. To defend. If that did not exist, nothing did. If she was not doing that, then she was useless.

But why was she doing it?

Did she really need the magic it produced? She couldn't imagine life without it, but she only used it to protect the forest. Again, it all revolved around the forest.

Could it be possible to live a life outside the forest? Without magic, without these threats, and most of all, without pain? Maybe the world would be better off without this great power to drive them all insane. They would survive. Redawn had been thriving for years and they did it without a drop of magic; it would make no difference to them. And all that she loved, besides the forest, lived there.

What was her motivation? What was her reason?

These thoughts spiraled through her head, making it spin. Like a seed planted in good soil, Sinsenta's words had planted their roots in record time. And like a weed, it was impossible to get rid of.

"Kiethara!" Aaron called out, his light filling the clearing and sparkling off her lake.

She rolled her head over so she could face him. "Hello."

"Are you all right?" Aaron asked, concern heavy in his tone. Maybe her response had disturbed him. Or maybe it was the fact she was lying eagle-spread on the ground, gazing up at nothing.

"I don't know, Aaron," she said sarcastically. "I was attacked, burned, and then I froze half a lake into ice daggers. What do you think?"

"Enough back talk, Kiethara! Heal your hand and meet me in the center," he ordered.

Kiethara pulled herself into a sitting position, making sure her back was to him. She tried to push Sinsenta's words to the back of her mind. Whatever Aaron had to say, she knew it was important.

Kiethara removed the bottle full of silver liquid and uncorked it with her teeth. This time she only used half of the bottle—she watched it numbly as it reunited her skin to perfection. It wasn't bad enough to scar, thank goodness. She did not need any more permanent reminders of Sinsenta.

She got up with a suppressed sigh, but paused when she realized the weight on her hip was too light. Her sword! She dropped it...but where? The forest wasn't exactly an ideal place to lose something, and she couldn't remember where she had been! It would be impossible to find it!

_Aaron_ , her voice of reason said through the panic. _He can help you_.

Aaron.

If she gave up, she would lose him. He could not exist if the forest did not exist. He hardly existed now! It wasn't as though he could walk into Redawn with her; if she failed, she would be killing the one person who had always loved her unconditionally. She would be killing the better part of herself.

But wasn't he already dead? His light was fading; his appearances in her battles were no more. Aaron didn't seem as strong as he used to be, that was clear; however, the fact that he could have even returned to a partially human form was a testimony to how hard he worked at keeping the forest alive. It would be wrong—disgusting—for her to destroy generations of his accomplishments for an easier life.

It was as though she were standing on the tip of a blade, swaying precariously between two decisions. She could either give up and move on to a simpler life with simpler demands, or continue her endless quest, making some insane in the process but remaining faithful to those she lived for. Nothing had to change. But what if she wanted it to?

Kiethara entered the center of the forest. As soon as she did, Aaron appeared.

"My sword is missing!" she blurted out before he could address her. He was silent for a moment.

"I will go retrieve it. You can take a dive," he ordered, nodding towards the guardian's lake.

"Thank you."

With a few bounds and a quick leap she dove into its waters. The waters soothed her aches immediately and passed through her lungs like a refreshing gulp of air.

Her bare feet dug themselves into the soggy ground, squelching between her toes. She wandered aimlessly for a minute before she stopped in front of her mother's grave.

"Mother?" Kiethara asked in a soft voice. The raging war inside her head was awful. She had never wanted her mother's advice more than she wanted it at that moment.

Suddenly, the water became unbearably cold, almost painfully cold. There was a sudden force, like a shove from an unknown source, and everything went black.

### ***

Kiethara stood in the middle of the blackness, very confused. She did not remember falling asleep, but this felt exactly like a dream.

There was a sudden light and she was reminded of Aaron. A figure appeared, lean and graceful, with the curves of a woman. This was not Aaron; the figure was much lighter, so much so that it was hard to define. The déjà vu was so strong that she had to take a step back.

How could she forget what her mother had once spoken to her? She—they—had been here before, and Earthaphoria had told her not to give up. Even before the problem had arisen, she had already had the answer. She felt like a fool!

_Kiethara_ , her mother said sternly. _I don't have enough magic to talk for much longer—_

"What does that mean?" Kiethara interrupted frantically, her eyes wide with wonder.

_Aaron will explain the connection between death and magic soon enough,_ she explained impatiently. _You can't give up, sweetheart, you can't. There are far more kingdoms than you know of, far more people, and all of them use magic. They use our power. The world is balanced in the most precious of ways and the smallest thing can knock it off its perch. Do not upset that balance._

Failing is not losing, Kiethara. It is not even dying. It is destroying.

_Do not give up_ , she repeated. _I love you._

"Mother, wait!" she cried, but the Spirit of Earthaphoria had already disappeared.

Kiethara opened her eyes.

Aaron was kneeling next to her, with a hand over her forehead. As soon as she blinked, though, he removed it.

Kiethara propped herself up on her elbows, confused. She was lying on top of her mother's grave. With a jolt, she scrambled off of it.

"Kiethara?" Aaron asked worriedly.

She looked at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. Her thoughts were frozen, unable to work through the situation. It was still stuck on her dream—conversation—and it replayed the scene over and over again.

"Kiethara," he said, standing up. "Calm down. I saw what you saw; I heard what you heard. It's alright, and it's all true."

"Connection," she whispered. "Between life and death."

"Yes," he said reluctantly.

"Explain!"

"I don't know if you are ready for this information yet. Although you've encountered it far more than any other guardian has, this knowledge might be a little too mature for you."

"What do you mean?" she demanded. "More than anybody else?"

"Your mother, for one. Myself, for another. Also, I believe you hear a voice when you are unconscious."

Kiethara stared at Aaron. "How do you know about that?"

"That is not important."

Kiethara slumped against a grave stone. So the voice in her head was real? What a shame—she wasn't crazy after all. "Does that mean the voice I hear is...dead?"

"Yes," he confirmed in a somber tone. "She died very young, at the age of thirteen. Poor girl. Tinya was her name."

She was silent for a long while. The voice was really a...Tinya?

"How did she...?" Kiethara couldn't even finish the question. The voice had always annoyed her, yes, but it had also been a voice of reason in her dreams. She felt like they were comrades facing the same problems together. She felt such a strong connection of the voice...as though she were her sister. But was this disembodied voice a ghost, then?

"Would you like to hear her legend?" Aaron asked quietly. She nodded.

"Tinya was a humorous and sarcastic girl, taking after her father. Her mother was the guardian at the time, a very strict and a very cautious person. It's a mystery why they fell in love, what with one being so careful and the other being so carefree. But they bore Tinya, this beautiful and sarcastic child, and raised her as a guardian. Despite her jesting, she had quickly gained her mother's sense of right and wrong.

"Tinya's mother was a good mentor and Tinya learned fast. She was a very eager learner. She thirsted to prove herself to her mother, no matter what it meant doing or accomplishing.

"There are many secrets to the guardian's life—one of them you will learn very soon. As with any secret, however, there are consequences for learning it before your time," Aaron paused, letting his warning sink in.

"Tinya learned this secret at the age of thirteen, far too young. It makes a guardian into the complete, powerful being that they are, allowing them...certain new skills. She discovered it and, by accident, took in too much magic. It overwhelmed her, and she died."

Kiethara and Aaron stood facing each other for a long time, no one daring to break the silence. She ran a hand through her hair and took a deep breath.

"But that doesn't explain why I hear her voice," she whispered finally.

"That's what you don't need to know at this moment, Kiethara."

That frustrated her, but not enough to make her argue. She felt strangely disconnected to the words they were exchanging. The realization that the voice was real—and dead—took dominance over everything.

"Is she buried here?"

"Yes," Aaron said. He pointed to her left.

Kiethara propelled herself over towards the tombstone, holding her breath. She had never paid any attention to the rest of the graveyard—only her mother's spot. With bated breath she approached the stone.

TINYA

LIVED FOR 13 YEARS

" _WHAT YOU GET IS WHAT YOU WISH FOR, AND YOU HAVE TO PAY FOR IT ALL."_

A light blue crystal was embedded above her name.

"So she died...from having too much magic?" she asked slowly.

"Yes."

"How is that possible?!"

Aaron sighed loudly. "Kiethara, you really are so close to obtaining this knowledge, but I cannot tell you now. Give it some time and it will be clear."

"Your cryptic little remarks are getting on my nerves!" she cried, snapping her teeth together.

"Accept my apology, please, and let us return to the surface so I can explain to you your newly discovered ability. Other then that, there is nothing I can do for you."

Kiethara stomped off away from Aaron. She caught a glimpse of the giant stone that resided in front of the graves and, for some reason, she was captivated by it for a moment. She felt like she was expecting something from it. Or that it was expecting something from her.

Shaking her head, convinced she was finally crazy, Kiethara swam back to the surface and clambered onto dry ground, completely dry herself. She hovered an inch above the ground in order to keep her feet out of the snow.

Her sword hung from a tree across from her. It seemed undamaged. Kiethara went over to it and hung her vine belt next to it grudgingly. She hated training with Aaron when she was mad at him.

"Now, why did your powers do that, Miss Kiethara?" Aaron asked in a deep, formal tone, trying to make her laugh. She smiled once at the tree before turning back to him.

"I was sad," she stated simply.

"Oh? Why?"

"Because of Sinsenta," she replied impatiently.

"And your sorrow led to...?"

Kiethara frowned. Sorrow, he had told her, led to controlling water. "It had led to ice, but I don't know why."

"Very good, very good. Sorrow controls water, and usually that means water in its liquid state. The more grief you are feeling, the better you can use the element. The more controlled you are with your sorrow, the better you can wield it. Ice, however, is very, very hard to control. You must be sorrowful and you must be _cold_. Not unhappy and angry, or mournful and fearful."

"I have to be the right kind of sad?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yes, Kiethara. You might comprehend that your powers are controlled by your emotions, but you cannot fathom how utterly ruled you are by these emotions. Sometimes, even the smallest rash feeling or twinge of annoyance can lead to a catastrophe. But you should know by now that the more control you own over these things, the less likely that prospect will occur. Of course, it works this way because of me, I'm afraid."

"I thank you deeply for that, Aaron," she muttered sarcastically, crossing her arms.

"Kiethara..."

"Sorry, Aaron."

"Now, you know what to do. Try to lift a tiny sphere of water and then freeze it."

Kiethara let out a loud breath and glided over to the edge of the lake. She didn't particularly want to focus on her most recent experience with Sinsenta and her mother, but those were the best she had.

Sad, but cold. Kiethara tried to focus on that. She brought forth Sinsenta's harsh words, trying to get some edge to the ache in her stomach. Every time she thought she had it, it slipped away.

Finally, a small sphere of water rose an inch above the water. Holding on to it, she let bitterness wash over her as Sinsenta's voice rang sharply in her head. But it also sparked some anger.

The sphere dropped back into the surface with a splash. She groaned.

"Try again," he ordered.

Kiethara waited until her frustration faded and then she once again lifted a sphere off of the surface. Her eyes closed and this time she tried a new approach, though it was one just as equally unpleasant. Trinnia's face loomed before her. She was mixing many different situations to get the feeling Aaron was asking for. A small part of her mind doubted that she would ever feel the same way again.

When she opened her eyes, the sphere of water had partly turned into slush, the state snow was reduced to just before spring. Discouraged, she looked down at the snow underneath her. Even it was more frozen than what she had made, and it was a day old! The snow would be gone for good before she could freeze anything again.

"Aaron, this is impossible!" she cried after her fifth try.

"You did it this morning," he pointed out.

"Was it really this morning?" she mused. It seemed like ages ago.

"I think you need some sleep, Kiethara," Aaron sighed, putting his head in his hand.

"Couldn't agree with you more," she replied. Her muscles were...well, her body was the same way it always felt, and she was tired of feeling that way.

"Kiethara," he said seriously. "I want to thank you for what you did today. Actually, I need to thank you for everything you have done for the forest. You have been through so much in order to defend it. Thank you."

Kiethara stared at him blankly. Never had she ever expected to receive any positive reception. She had never felt so...

Appreciated.

CHAPTER 41

### POWER

Kiethara was at bliss.

She was floating in a river, completely naked. Only her wrists were covered with her bracelets. Her hair swirled profusely around her and, although she did not move a muscle, she did not sink into the slowly churning water.

Around her, snow was falling. It never fell towards the water, though. Instead, it piled up alongside her, forming growing piles along the riverbanks that cut her off from anything that lay beyond. The snow looked quite cold to her, but for some reason she was quite warm as she drifted alongside it. Snug, even, as the water cradled her downstream.

_Only you could be snug in a river during the dead of winter,_ the voice commented, sarcastic as always.

Kiethara half gasped, her closed eyes snapping open.

Tinya.

There was a dead beat of silence inside her head before a wave of anger quite disconnected from her own being washed through Kiethara. It was strange to feel someone else's emotion. She felt as though she was invading into someone else's mind, their private place...

_Aaron. Told. You._ The voice hissed at her. Each word was separate and distinct.

Kiethara frowned. The voice—Tinya—had never been this angry at her before. Was it such a horrible crime that she had found out to whom she had been speaking with all this time?

_No, of course I wanted you to know. That's why I spilled my heart out to you the first time we met!_ Tinya barked.

Was sarcasm the only way she knew how to speak? Kiethara chewed over the name _Tinya_. For some reason, it didn't sounded right. She liked calling it "the voice" much more than she did calling it Tinya. Before, when she had figured herself crazy, Kiethara could at least pretend it was her own doing. But now that it was an actual person who was disrupting her nighttime fantasies, for reasons Aaron refused to explain to her, she felt like she was being forced to be crazy. Forced to be polite to the dead girl in her head.

Is that so? It reassured me when I found out the voices in my head were real.

_If you didn't want me to know about the past, then I'm going to pretend I didn't,_ Kiethara said. To each her own.

_Wake up_ , the voice said suddenly.

Kiethara jumped, the river around her fading and the air growing colder. It was almost painful to rip herself out of her dream, but those words sent a shot of undiluted fear throughout her. Only one thought crossed her mind, one image of four men with one jewel.

_I love how you give me the proper reaction this time, when there isn't any danger,_ the voice sighed.

Tinya's voice sounded far away, though. The river blurred a little more, and Kiethara found she was unable to focus on anything around her.

_Happy Birthday, Kiethara_.

### ***

Kiethara rolled out of her hammock and onto the ground.

"Ow," she moaned into the dirt, as though she was trying to rebuke it.

Kiethara jumped up and brushed herself off. She, for some reason unknown to her, felt filled with energy. Her heart would not stop pounding in her chest. She felt like she could take on the world.

Shaking her head, she leaned against one of the two trees supporting her hammock, trying to calm herself down. After five full minutes, her heart would not slow down. Her brow felt feverish, but most of the snow had melted already, so she could not cool herself down. It had been such a light winter...

Kiethara took a deep breath. Why wouldn't her heart slow down? It felt as though it were about to burst from her chest.

She took another deep breath. Whatever it was, it would pass. Anyway, her stomach felt strangely empty—perhaps some food would mellow things out. With a wave of her hand a vine of grapes bloomed next to her. Her wrists pricked.

Odd. None of these feelings felt familiar and she had experienced a couple of illnesses before. Oh, she couldn't afford to get sick now. With a thumping heart, she grabbed a handful of grapes and wolfed them down.

As soon as they hit her stomach, her stomach heaved. She barely had time to pull her hair out of her face as she became violently sick on the grass.

Breathing hard, she wiped her mouth off and stood up. A wave of dizziness overtook her. She stumbled slightly, her heart growing louder.

Sweat rolled down her forehead despite the morning chill. What was going on? She had to...she had to...do something...

Kiethara could barely think. Her stomach growled fiercely as she tried to tell it that she could not eat. She was dizzy, but after she felt her forehead again, she knew she didn't have a fever. Her heart would not stop its frantic beating, even though she hardly dared to move. It felt as though she was going to explode!

She was going to die.

Fear flooded her body as her heartbeat accelerated. The lake. The center of the forest. She needed to get there. That was exactly what she needed. Something inside her told her that it was the only thing that could help her.

She pushed herself into the air. As soon as she did, however, her heart took off like a galloping horse and her wrists burned with a white hot pain that traveled down the length of her arms.

She fell back onto the ground. Groaning, she pulled herself back up. She had to _walk?_

Each step felt alien to her. For some reason, she couldn't stop from expelling magic. Every time she did, though, it hurt.

Every tree she passed thickened, every blade of grass lengthened. Behind her, there was a trail of white roses.

Halfway there her vision flickered colors, first white, and then gold. When it returned, she found herself on the ground.

Fear. It obliterated everything else. She didn't even register the fact that she was crawling on her hands and knees, with her heart beating so fast it was making her quiver from head to toe. All she wanted was for it to end. She wanted to black out.

Finally, she crawled into the center of the forest.

Aaron appeared just as she had hoped he would. His atmosphere was so calm...Kiethara looked up at him with wide and crazed eyes, her hair matted down on her face by sweat.

"Relax, Kiethara, you will not be harmed," Aaron said in a soothing voice.

Kiethara stared up at him in complete bewilderment.

"It isn't going to kill you," he said simply.

"What?!" she shrieked at him. Her hands exploded into flames—how could he act so cryptic now, when she was in so much pain?—and more agony shot down her arms. She shuddered violently.

"The lake, Kiethara, go to the lake," he ordered.

She certainly didn't need to be told twice. She dragged herself towards the glimmering surface of the water, nothing but pure desperation keeping her moving.

Kiethara threw herself into the water and, as soon as she did, she wished she hadn't.

Magic—she did not know how she knew what it was—seemed to grab hold of her. With a silent scream issuing from her mouth in a torrent of bubbles, it dragged her down to the bottom of the lake. It forced her into a kneeling position right before the giant stone that described all the elements, looming high over the graves.

The worst part of it was that she could not breathe.

She could not move. She could not expand her chest or open her mouth in order to suck in the pure water of the guardian's lake. She could not close her eyes; she could not call for help. All she could do was stare up at the stone she had been placed before, feeling herself expel countless amounts of magic. Pain continuously shot up her arms.

Aaron appeared in front of her, his manifestation sending rage rolling down her spine. She wished she could glare, or change her expression in anyway, but she could only stare up at him too. She was helpless in this pitiful state.

"Kiethara, relax," Aaron said. He kneeled down in front of her and wiped something from her cheek. Tears were leaking out of her eyes and into the water around her. "This is all part of the process."

The process? Kiethara's mind spun wildly. She was not breathing, but she had not died yet. Her heart was racing at a speed that should have killed her by now. She could not speak, or twitch, or even flinch.

"Remember a few weeks ago, how I told you that much would be revealed to you in a short time? Well, the day has come, Kiethara. It is the sixteenth anniversary of your birth."

If she would have been able to react, her eyes would have widened and she would have gasped. Her heart might have quickened, but at this point, it was already far ahead of any reaction she may have had. All she could do was stare up at him blankly.

In her mind, however, things were slowing starting to fall into place. The voice in her dreams had said happy birthday. But why was all this happening just because she had turned sixteen? She remembered most of her other birthdays and they had all been uneventful. Aaron had always wished her a happy day, allowing her to spend an extra hour in the guardian's lake. It was something she had never gotten to do. He called it an abuse of its power.

This was certainly a special occasion, then.

"You have yet to realize what truly makes a guardian a guardian. I have told you certain powers that we have that others do not—your shield, for example. Invisibility, for another. Yet there is one factor, one ability, which has made us much more powerful than any other and has allowed us to protect the forest invincibly. No one else in the world, though, knows we have this power. Except, of course, for Gandador.

_Of course?_ Was Gandador allowed to know every secret of the forest, no questions asked?

"Your mother told him almost everything," he said in despair, answering her question. "That is one of the reasons why he is one of the forest's most formidable opponents. Don't get me wrong, I do not hate your mother, but she caused her daughter many unnecessary problems. If only I had been there..."

Anger flared up inside Kiethara. Inwardly, she thrashed against her invisible bindings, but she could not move an inch. How could he talk about her mother that way? How could he keep her tied up like this with no explanation and then insult her to her face? She was spoiled with his love, but now she hated him. She loathed him for putting her in this position. She did not want to feel helpless! She did not want to be at Aaron's mercy! He pride swelled inside her, trapped, just as she was.

With all of those emotions raging inside of her, Kiethara half expected for some new power to free her. She expected some dramatic explosion to take place, some hidden reserve of strength to find her. It always did. But nothing happened besides an increased pain in her arms.

"Relax!" Aaron ordered. "I know this is strange and I know this is frustrating, but you have to trust me. I don't want to put you through any unnecessary pain."

He said the last line with certain tenderness. If she could look up at him in surprise, she would have. Aaron never showed that type of emotion.

"I don't blame your mother, Kiethara. Pointing fingers gets you as far as self-pity does. But we are off topic as we usually are, and far beyond the point. I must explain.

"As I was saying, your sixteenth birthday is a significant event for every guardian. You will forge a connection between you and the forest so powerful that the edges of your identity and its own will be blurred. You will be able to sense anything and everything in this forest, including anybody who enters it. Once you practice, you will be able to sense a lizard brushing against a fern or a bird rustling the leaves.

"Also, you currently take magic in by absorbing it. You do not question how you wake up with little and then you can fall asleep with much. You have questioned how others take it, and you have learned the minor basics: by consuming the forest's fruit or mixing a potion. Neither, however, gives much power at all.

"However, once this connection becomes a reality for you, Kiethara, you will be able to take as much power from the forest as you wish! Never again will you need my help when your power runs dry, if it even manages to do that. But this new power comes with many restrictions, and a curse.

"First, you have witnessed what that cursed necklace can do. Goodness forbid you encounter it again, but if you do, it is still your worst enemy. It will drain you of physical and mental strength as well as magic and the more magic that you take in, the more power you are handing over to that jewel as it sucks your energy like a leech.

"Second, you also know the consequences of drawing too much of the forest's power. It killed Tinya. I cannot explain to you how she managed to forge the connection early; perhaps it is something her mother let slip. But it cost her her life. Do not make the same mistake with your child."

Although Kiethara could not change her expression or let her eyes tell Aaron how seriously she took his warning, she felt that he could sense how she took his words to heart.

Everything was beginning to make sense.

She reveled in the fact that she was about to become Gandador's worst enemy. She was about to become more powerful than she had ever dreamed. Aaron was handing her a new weapon.

No, he was handing her something much greater than that.

Power.

And she wanted it, bad.

"Do not get greedy, child!" Aaron chided her. How he knew what she was thinking was beyond her, but the word _child_ made her internally flinch. He rarely used that with her. "You will have it."

Aaron walked forward until he was looking down on her. Her head was pushed down by some invisible force. Behind him, the orbs glowed brightly, until nothing but light could be seen of the giant stone. The same happened to all the gravestones as light poured out of the guardian's crystals

So there she kneeled, surrounded by nothing but a light that should have blinded her, bowing to Aaron.

"Accept this guardian, a descendant of mine, to protect and defend. Accept Kiethara!" Aaron roared.

The light around them got, if possible, brighter. It exceeded the brightness of Aaron, and strengthened until she felt as though she were standing on the surface of the sun. But her eyes did not burn and her skin did not blister. It did no more damage than the gentle rays of a summer afternoon.

"Kiethara, you will accept your burden," he commanded in a voice that rang with authority.

She had no choice. She had never had a choice, never decided that she was going to take on the role of a defender and protector for the rest of her life. She had no mouth to protest, no will to resist. But she did not want to. She accepted the burden he placed on her with pride.

Something in the back of her mind seemed to awaken. It was as though a tiny sack in her head had been punctured, and now warm liquid was leaking out of it, filling every space, staining every thought and every memory. It had been there all along, dormant in her mind, and now it was overflowing her senses. She could not believe that she had not sensed it sooner. In that one moment, she knew she would feel empty without it.

All of a sudden, an abrupt force hit her, flipping her gut in a strange way. It felt like...purity. It was definitely magic, but it was just so pure, so powerful, that Kiethara's eyes rolled back in her head and her chest arched forward as it flowed through her. She had not realized that she had regained the use of her limbs, but now they were being moved by something else.

And just like that, it stopped.

Around her, the light dimmed down. The crystals in the gravestones dulled and the giant stone in front of her returned to its mundane state, lying at the bottom of the lake as though nothing had happened. She collapsed on the lake bottom, Aaron standing over her.

She could move again. She could breathe again. But nothing was the same.

Connection was the wrong word for it. It only described a tenth of what it really was, what it entailed. Half of her mind was now the forest; the forest now lived inside her every thought.

So much was revealed to her now. She could feel every leaf fluttering in the wind and every ant that marched between the blades of grass. She could sense that no one was in the forest except her and Aaron.

She understood the forest for what it really was. Kiethara could now see it as a living, breathing entity. Its blood was magic; every tree and bush pulsed with it. The older the tree, the more power that was emitted from it. But even some of the oldest trees could not compare to the guardian's lake; the power from the center of the forest was like nothing she had ever felt before, and all of it was hers to take.

She could feel Aaron, for his presence was magic. Aaron seemed to be made of three times the power she had. And she wanted more.

She pulled at it...with her mind. It was like a small prick in her consciousness and, as soon as she grabbed onto it, she could draw in as much power as she wanted to.

Kiethara began absorbing as much as she could, drinking it in like sweet nectar. She felt it accumulate inside her, threatening to fill her up until she burst, but she kept at it. It made her feel so light, so high, and just so powerful. _Amazing_.

"Kiethara," Aaron rebuked quietly. She paused for just a moment, but that was all it took.

Kiethara gasped as the magic caught up with her. She felt painfully full, as if she had drunk too much water and was about to drown in it.

Kiethara began releasing what she took, allowing the magic to flow out of her in a gushing torrent. Seaweed sprouted up from the bottom of the lake, rippling out from her in a wave. Flowers bloomed, most of them, for some reason, surrounding her mother's grave. She used magic in every way she could and she felt nothing but relief when the feeling of being overwhelmed gradually dissipated. Even after getting rid of the extraneous, she still felt glorious. She had never had this amount of power.

"Kiethara," Aaron said again. She refocused on him with wide eyes.

"Rise."

She stood up. A power thrummed in her limbs, giving her the feeling that she could run a thousand miles and not grow weary. Standing there, still, was almost impossible.

"Aaron," she whispered. She looked at him in awe. "I had no idea."

Aaron chuckled. "Let us return to the surface."

Kiethara didn't even have a chance to think about it; she simply shot out of the water. As soon as she broke out of the lake, she lost all restraint.

Kiethara could not recall a time when she had flown faster. The wind whipped at her so hard that her skin turned pink and her eyes watered enough to call for tears. But she could not stop. She pulled herself up and went completely vertical, arms spread as wide as the grin on her face.

She then pulled herself into a nose dive. Her power was so much, her thoughts so inundated, that she decided to take the risk. She let her grip on her power go.

She was free falling.

She felt alive, more alive than ever before. Adrenaline coursed throughout her entire body, setting her senses on fire. At the last possible second, she caught herself.

She flew back to Aaron slowly, catching her breath before landing before him.

"Sorry," she said breathlessly. "I had to."

"I understand, Kiethara," he chuckled. "The power must feel immense; however, you must exercise caution. This killed Tinya, remember. I also want to mention the few holes this connection has."

"Holes?"

"Gandador and Sinsenta can appear at any place, at any time. Although you can now sense anything in the forest, you won't have much warning against those two. You sense presences by magic, too, Kiethara, and although everything has magic, even people who do not use it, it can be present in small amounts. It will take some practice to be able to sense something so dim."

"How do they reappear like that?" she asked.

"Hopefully, I will be able to teach you that after I teach you everything else. I don't think you should take on more than what you have been burdened with today. Get used to it."

Kiethara realized that she had been dismissed. She turned and began to walk away.

"Kiethara?" Aaron called.

"Yes?"

"Happy birthday."

CHAPTER 42

### LISTENING

Her inhalation came in slow, even breaths.

Kiethara was sitting cross-legged in the middle of her mother's clearing. It had recently become her favorite spot in the forest. So calm, so peaceful, and so quiet. It was perfect for what she needed it for.

She was listening.

Even after the few days that had passed, she was still not used to the connection she held with the forest. Every day she woke up and it would take her a few moments to work past the overwhelming wonder that always filled her. Her body was bound to one place, but her mind was everywhere at all times.

For some reason, it seemed to make her dreams more vivid as well. While she dreamed, she could still sense the forest around her—one night she had been violently awaken by a pair of bears fighting in the trees near her. It had not been the noise that had woken her, but the claws that had slashed at the bark of the surrounding trees. It did not inflict physical pain, but it bothered her mentally, like a hornet stinging at her thoughts. She shuddered to think of what it would have felt like if she had had this connection when the forest had been on fire.

One time she had tried to pull herself from the connection, to see what it felt like if she withdrew. It took her a couple of times before she had really managed anything. Holding on to the connection was like trying to grip wet marble. It acted like a smoke; whenever she tried to control it, it always found a way to creep back out. And while she was doing this, or anything with it, she needed to be completely concentrated. Not a single stray thought could cross her mind.

These past few days, Kiethara had used more magic than she usually used in a month. She experimented with every element and theory she could think of, combining and creating emotions she didn't particularly enjoy just to see the result. She felt adventurous, no longer prohibited by the fear of passing out or running low. She could regain it all in seconds.

For example, her shield had passed on to a level of excellence. It would fly up in less time than it took to blink and expand with the merest flick of her thoughts. She could even fly with it now, too.

She had even earned herself congratulation from Aaron when she had demonstrated it for him. Usually, she wandered upon her powers accidentally, more from mistake than anything else. This time, however, it had been her will and hard work that allowed her to reach this new level.

The days melted by along with the snow. She no longer required a death grip on her robe when she slept; her lake was not rimmed with ice in the morning anymore. The trees that had lost their leaves were beginning to recover them. Blades of grass pushed themselves out of frozen soil and the sky above was now more gray than blue. The winter was melting into spring, and Kiethara's spirits bloomed just as the flowers did.

Yet life was not perfect.

Navadar had not visited her in quite a while. She was used to him taking some time between his visits, but it had never been this long before. Especially after their last meeting—the memory of it sending her stomach flipping—she expected him to visit more often than not. They had reached a point where Kiethara was craving for his presence in more ways than one.

She went over their history every day. From their first meeting to their first kiss, every detail was reviewed in her mind. He had come seeking an adventure and received a romance. She felt a bit guilty, though: he had to balance the life he held in the kingdom and the life he held here now, both of which threatened him in very different ways. On top of that, she knew he was being forced to make some very serious decisions. If he wanted to be with her, to start a family with her, he would have to live permanently in the forest. This entailed a lot, the less extreme being a new diet of forest food, while the most extreme being on alert for the possibility of an attack, any day, anytime. He would have to accept that his only child would be the guardian of this forest for the rest of his or her life.

Kiethara had asked Aaron why guardians did not have more children after their first.

"It should be obvious, Kiethara," he had told her one day. "The second child will only get jealous or be neglected. A long time ago, a guardian was killed by her younger sister, after she had a child, that is. You will spend every day training your child like I have trained you. You will not have time for a second one. It's not worth it."

And thus Kiethara was convinced—or ordered, considering Aaron's stern tone—not to have a second child. Hopefully Navadar would agree to that as well. He didn't have much of a choice.

### ***

Kiethara let out a muffled cry, her eyes snapping open.

Without thinking twice about it, she threw herself up into the air, her shield appearing around her. She blinked hard, trying to think around her drowsiness. It was early in the morning, the sun just beginning to rise, and she had been rudely awaken by...something. It had almost felt like she had been burned.

Kiethara looked down at her hammock and gasped.

There, right where she had been laying, was a piece of parchment, rolled up tightly and sealed.

She slowly descended, her shield disappearing as curiosity replaced her fear. The wax seal had no signatures or designs. She bent down and stared at it with wide eyes. A letter? But...from who? Who in the world would send her a letter, and by magic? It was not like there were many possibilities.

Well, it was true that Odarick used magic. She had not seen him since he had helped her in Redawn, but he seemed like the type of person who would send a letter to check up on her. Aaron would have to teach her how to send one back.

With that thought, she reached forward and picked up the roll of parchment. It was heavy, surprisingly so, and it had a certain aura to it. The same, heavy atmosphere of her father...

With stumbling fingers, she broke the seal.

Kiethara gasped as her mother's locket fell to the grass at her feet. She stared at it for a moment, shocked, and then with trembling hands she unrolled the parchment.

My daughter,

After those two words, Kiethara did not want to continue. Now that she was certain it was Gandador, she wanted only to throw the letter over her shoulder and wipe her hands clean from the scum. But for some reason, she could not stop reading. Why had he sent her back her mother's locket? A more important question: how he had gotten his hands on it? Those four men had taken it!

Enclosed in this letter, as you should have found out by now, is your mother's locket. It is a special gift to you for your sixteenth birthday, so that you will never be without the proof that, without me, you would not be celebrating this day. I know you will appreciate it dearly.

Kiethara did not know how he managed to write his mocking tone into a letter, but she was sick already.

Now you are twice as powerful as you were before. Yes, your mother told me every little one of the guardian's secrets. You hold no surprises for me, child, but you might be surprised at how many I still have in stock for you.

Sinsenta was quite put out that he did not get his revenge. I find it almost poetic that you have both inflicted such horrid scars on each other, and I long for the chance to inflict my own...

You are probably wondering how I received your mother's locket. I understand that you were captured by four men, and I managed to track down one of them. His name was Natal. He had your locket, but insufficient information on anything I really needed. His death was unnecessary, but I felt you would appreciate it. A little revenge helps sooth the soul.

Although my accomplice is weak, he is very resourceful. Not only does his son have the potential of following after me, but he is also an excellent tracker, and holds some very useful connections in the kingdoms that even you would consider a threat. My advice to you today: do not underestimate Sinsenta, and more importantly, do not underestimate me. That will be your last mistake.

Kiethara frowned. The letter was making her uneasy. Perhaps because it was the most peaceful encounter with her father that she had ever had, but it was almost as though he was being too open, giving her advice. She expected him to appear at any moment behind her. Even in ink he still left goose bumps, as though every word concealed a threat.

I suspect we will meet again shortly, child. I let you enjoy your sweet reunion with dear old Aaron for far too long. You now have an unlimited amount of power, a sword, no doubt, and Aaron has probably crammed as much training into your head as he possibly could. You might have more strength and some advantage, but you also have one more thing: a weakness.

Take my words to heart; it's not every day I will send them to you on a flag of truce. Your mother was a fool, and it would be a shame if my daughter was one too.

Your father.

Kiethara was so filled with rage that her hands burst into flames, disintegrating the accursed letter into ashes. She stood there, fists on fire and as rigid as a tree trunk. How dare he!

Her mother was not a fool. She was kind enough to love a monster like him, and this was how he thanked her? No one else would have been able to look him in the eye without fleeing in the opposite direction, disgusted! He was an arrogant son of a—

A sudden light appeared, cutting her thought short. She felt its presence with her connection at the same time she was partially blinded by it. It was definitely dimmer than it ever had been before, but she wasn't in the mood to worry. She wanted to fight. There was no way she could retaliate until Gandador returned to attack. He had planted his letter skillfully.

"Kiethara, what on earth are you doing?" Aaron cried. Without realizing it, she had been sending tongues of fire into the grass, burning patches and setting it aflame. She turned to face Aaron, her face livid.

"How. Did. He. Do. That?" she growled slowly.

"Easy, Kiethara. Take a deep breath."

She took a quick breath through her nose. The fire on her hands disappeared, but her light green crystals still glowed dangerously.

"Good. Now tell me what's wrong," he said calmly.

"What's wrong?" she hissed. She motioned towards the pile of ashes at her feet. "That... _fool_ sent me a letter!"

Silence.

"Do you mean Gandador?" he asked.

"Yes!" she cried, throwing her hands up in anger. They exploded into flames so hot she could feel them at her toes.

"What did he say?" he asked.

"Does it _matter?_ " she cried louder, despite the fact that the words were reverberating off of her skull. "Next time we meet, he is going to _die!_ "

"Kiethara!" Aaron said sharply.

She took a deep breath and plopped down on the burnt ground. _Your mother was a fool_ ...the words still sounded in her head. Her mother had made only one bad decision; that did _not_ make her a fool.

Then again...

Out of all the mistakes her mother could have made, it could not have been more serious than this. She fell in love with a powerful, deadly man, gave him all of her secrets to power, and had trusted him with everything till her final breaths. Everything that could have gone wrong had. Except, of course, for Kiethara's survival.

Kiethara shook her head. She was letting Gandador get into her mind just as Sinsenta had poisoned her thoughts. Doubt, anger, loss...these were all tools that they used that she constantly fell victim to. She could not let them control her. She had to keep a cool head.

With a jolt, she remembered what had come with her letter. Silently, she picked it off the ground and stood up, dangling it in front of Aaron. She could feel his wordless shock.

"I woke up because this and a roll of parchment took my place in my hammock. When I unrolled the parchment, this fell out, and then I read the letter.

"He talked about my birthday, Aaron. He knew. He knows everything about the connection. He even knows I have a sword now! He mentioned my last fight with Sinsenta and how he had gotten the locket...He warned me that he would be coming here and...and he called my mother a fool," she finished, looking up at Aaron with wide eyes.

Aaron took a step forward and fingered the golden, heart shaped locket. Many new buffs and scratched scarred its elegantly carved surface, and a few of the links that made up the chain were dented.

"How many times must we go over this, Kiethara?" Aaron asked in a soft voice. "Do not let these words affect you, do not let yourself become gullible. Your mother's greatest strength was also her greatest weakness. You know this. But that does not make her a fool."

She nodded, not completely sure whether Aaron's words had any affect on her or not.

"He talked about Sinsenta's son, too. The world doesn't need another Gandador," she objected.

"Mhm, this might be something we have to worry about," he mused. "Gandador never fails to have a backup plan. He is such a difficult person to unravel, too."

For the first time, Kiethara thought she detected frustration in Aaron's tone. The frustration of not knowing something. Aaron knew everything! It was unnerving to think otherwise.

"At one minute, he has you thinking that he is a blood thirsty monster only capable of destruction. The next, he has you thinking that he is a greedy yet powerful opponent with an insane plan for something unobtainable. Now he has me wondering again! He has insurance now—an apprentice. But insurance for what? Will he drive this child on his crazy schemes? Or has Gandador finally realized it might not work?"

"Have you ever considered that his plan might work?" she asked in a small voice.

Aaron shook his head. "The only reason the guardian's wear crystals is because we have too much magic to be stored in our bodies. They themselves might give you more power, but it's not as if they bless you with skill. A guardian is a guardian for many different reasons, not just because they wear these bracelets."

"So what if Gandador just wants us to think he wants to be a guardian? What if his true intention is to just find a way to absorb as much power as he can without killing himself?"

Aaron was silent for a moment. "That is a very good point, Kiethara, and a view that should definitely be considered. That sounds like something your father could pull..."

"Aha!" she cried. "So it might be possible for him to take my crystals from me and use them for himself!"

"Easy, Kiethara. Don't get ahead of yourself. Even if I gave you the benefit of the doubt, chances are very slim. First, he has to be able to get you into a position by which he can study your crystals for an extended period of time. He then has to get them off without killing you, because then the forest and the power in your crystals would die out. And after that, he would have to connect them to his own life force in order to get them to work for the purpose he wants. I expect you not to get yourself into the first position, needless to say."

"Well, you never know," she sighed.

"Kiethara, you really shouldn't worry about something that cannot be solved today," he reasoned.

"But—"

"No, do not let this doubt creep into your thoughts. There is a reason this hasn't happened before: it's not possible."

Yes, it all came down to that. Everything happened for a reason. What was the reason for her being kidnapped? Well, it had given her and Aaron reason to enhance her training tenfold. A pitiful reason, in her opinion, but a reason all the same. Surprisingly, Kiethara found that she still clung to her philosophy with all her heart and soul.

"Should I be expecting him?" she asked suddenly.

"Gandador? No, because he never does what you expect. So if you're expecting him today, it's safe to say he isn't coming till tomorrow."

Kiethara then vowed to expect him every minute from this point forward.

"Can I send him a letter back?" she asked hopefully. She had a few choice words she wanted him to hear.

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?" she demanded.

"Insulting your enemy is not the best tactic."

"Oh? And what about him? He and his faithful puppy Sinsenta make a hobby of insulting me!"

"You should know why," he said. "Now, enjoy the rest of your day."

"All right," she said with a defeated sigh.

"Be good," he said, a smile in his voice. He disappeared.

Kiethara looked around her clearing for something to do. Her head was buzzing with worry and doubt, and she tightly clenched her mother's locket in her fist. She needed to calm down, and there was only one way to do that.

By listening.

CHAPTER 43

### STORY

Kiethara flinched in her dreams.

They had been so pleasant—swirls of blooming flowers and glowing faces. The dreams had no rhyme or reason. They were, surprisingly, normal dreams over normal quarries and worries that stuck in her head. Even the voice did not bother commenting on anything.

Despite the peace, she found herself grimacing among the flowers of her imagination in annoyance.

There was an annoying prick at her conscious, like a fly that wouldn't go away. It was very faint, an almost nonexistent presence. Not strong enough to steal her from her sleep, but not weak enough to let her enjoy it restfully.

Navadar's face flickered through the colors again. _Navadar_. It had been so long since she had seen him last. Even when she had been kidnapped and trapped in Nikkoi, it had never been this long. But his face quickly faded as new faces appeared.

She watched them like a play. The only face that was out of focus was her mother's face. The only image she had ever seen of her was made out of petals, and now it lay on her chest, her mother's locket around her neck.

If only she could get rid of the annoying buzz in the back of her head...

It was more present now, no longer coming in intervals. Like a bell that never stopped ringing, it became the background music to her thoughts. Every few minutes, Kiethara would refocus on it again.

Sleep was slowly becoming impossible. Whatever the prick was, it was determined to wake her up, even though she had been trying to ignore it for quite some time now.

It went off again, more present than it had ever been before. She was finally pulled from her slumber and into the sunlight.

Kiethara groaned as the sun blinded her. The air still held some post-winter chill to it, one that could be felt on the light breeze that wisped through the leaves. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. A perfect day.

Now awake, she realized the annoying buzz had been her connection, telling her that there was somebody in the forest. Two people, in fact.

They were only a couple of yards away.

Kiethara blasted into the air with a great burst of wind. She still had not gotten used to the immense power she possessed now. Quickly snatching up her sword and potion belt, she pulled them onto her waist, scrambling to get some control over herself. It was just a moment too late, however, for her visitors were already breaking through the trees.

Navadar's face—his beautiful face—came first.

Kiethara gasped in joy and flew down to meet him. He grinned when he saw her, but he was preoccupied by leading his horse through the trees.

Kiethara stopped, hovering in the air, a few feet from him.

"Nav—" she started to say, but then she stopped. Ice shot through her veins and froze her lips mid-word.

There, on his lovely buckskin horse, sat Trinnia.

She wore a heavy chocolate traveling dress, her blond hair pulled up into an elegant bun. Even deep in the forest, Trinnia was beautiful.

Kiethara let her feet touch the ground. She did not feel light anymore; her mouth had dropped open, and her navy blue eyes flickered between Navadar and Trinnia in shock. Navadar looked away guiltily and, by the way he shuffled his feet, she could tell he was uneasy. Trinnia looked...out of place, overwhelmed. She was staring at Kiethara's feet in fear, as though trying to convince herself she had not seen them hovering a minute before.

"Kiethara," Navadar said in a tight voice. "You look as lovely as ever."

The words came out very stiff and very formal. The same way he had talked to her when they were with company in Redawn. She hated it. Frustration made her clasp her jaw with an audible snap.

"Do I, now?" she asked Navadar. He turned his head and grimaced. "Thank you, Navadar."

"Kiethara, I-I brought Trinnia with me," he continued stiffly.

"Oh," Kiethara said, as though she had just realized Trinnia was there. "Hello, Trinnia. This is a...surprise."

Navadar helped Trinnia down from his horse. Once she had smoothed the front of her dress, she looked up at Kiethara.

"Kiethara," she acknowledged. "You look...nice."

The sneer on Trinnia's face was quite a contradiction to her words. Kiethara had no response. Neither, it seemed, did Navadar.

"Kiethara," he said suddenly. "You have your locket!"

A nice way to break the silence, but Kiethara admired how he noticed the smaller details in her life. She had to hand it to Navadar, though. He could fix awkward situations almost as fast as he could create them.

"Yes, I do," she said in response. Her thoughts drifted away from the clearing as her hand went up to finger the golden locket on her heart.

"How?" he asked, bemused.

Kiethara looked at Trinnia. She was standing there with an uncomfortable expression, not facing either of them, but Kiethara could tell she was listening. Could she trust the girl who had turned her life upside-down with one simple trick?

"It is okay, Kiethara," he said quickly, reading her face. "We can trust her."

"I want to hear that from her!" Kiethara snapped. Her hands burst into flames.

She was furious. Navadar comes into her forest, dragging along this...this _girl_ , only to have her insult everything she could? What was Navadar playing at?

Navadar stepped in between them and spread his arms. "That's why we're here. Trinnia wants to apologize."

Kiethara looked over Navadar's shoulder. Trinnia was looking down at the forest floor, her bottom lip jutting forward. Kiethara took a deep breath and let the fire disappear.

"Again, I want to hear that from her," she said through her teeth.

Navadar stood there for another moment, his face torn with indecision. Finally, he moved aside.

Trinnia did not move for a moment. Then she slowly raised her head and took a step forward.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry for treating you with contempt. I'm sorry for kissing Navadar and I'm sorry for misjudging you. I saw someone unfamiliar to my customs and I immediately scorned you. Please forgive me."

Kiethara's mouth opened in surprise, but she shut it in the same second. Placing a hand on her hip, she scrutinized Trinnia.

Fear.

That was the dominant emotion in Trinnia's light brown eyes. This was raw, a spark of something true. Whether she meant her words or not, Trinnia feared whatever response she was expecting from Kiethara.

Kiethara's resolved wavered.

Navadar was watching her with the same fear. Everybody looked at her that way! It was as though she was some wild horse that they were waiting to see whether they had spooked it or not. She was getting rather tired of it; the stares of apprehension and trepidation were not flattering. They made her feel...lonely. But the only way to get them to end was to forgive Trinnia. That was the price she must pay.

Kiethara closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose.

"I forgive you, Trinnia," she said, and then smiled softly. "It took courage to come here."

Trinnia looked up at her. Kiethara knew that they would never get along, but alas, at least she had made Navadar's day. She could see that he had finally stopped hyperventilating. Smug, she placed her hand on her sword hilt.

"Why don't we go to my mother's meadow?" she asked.

"Certainly," Navadar agreed, glowing. "Let me just tie him up first."

Navadar took his horse, tan hide flashing in the sun and black mane rippling in the breeze, and tied him to the nearest tree. Together, Kiethara led the way to the meadow.

"It's beautiful!" Trinnia gasped when they reached it.

"Thank you," Kiethara said. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back."

She shot Navadar a glance, nodding back towards the trees.

"Er, I'll be right back as well," he said quickly, and then he followed her into the trees.

Once they were well out of sight from Trinnia, who remained hesitant at the edge of the meadow, Kiethara turned around and glared at Navadar, crossing her arms.

Navadar was having none of that.

He shoved her up against the nearest tree, uncrossing her arms with his strong hands. His lips found hers with a soft moan and he put one hand in her waist long hair, the other on her waist.

Her own hands were placed lightly on his chest. Her anger from before melted away as her skin heated up, responding to his touch. She almost forgot that Trinnia was still here.

After one long moment, or maybe it had been a year, they broke apart.

"Sorry I took so long," he breathed in her ear.

"I'm still mad at you," she said between her labored panting.

"It worked out all right."

"What exactly is your definition of 'all right'?" she asked.

"This," he said, nuzzling her neck.

"Well this time you brought a guest," she pointed out, gently pushing him away.

"Next time I won't," he promised fervently.

"Well, then, I'll see you next time," she said with a wicked grin. She slipped out from under his arm and walked back towards the meadow, swinging her hips a little more than necessary.

Navadar and she made their way towards Trinnia. Trinnia watched them approach with wide eyes. She kept glancing at Kiethara's sword, as though she were afraid it would somehow slip from its sheath and stab her.

"Shall we venture towards the tree?" Kiethara asked after a moment of awkward silence, motioning towards the looming cherry blossom.

"Yes," Navadar agreed, taking a step forward.

"D-do you have to bring all those weapons with you?" Trinnia stuttered suddenly, looking nervous. "Why can't you leave them here for the time being?"

"Oh," Navadar said, surprised. "Of course."

He pulled his bow and arrows off of his back and laid them on the edge on the meadow. He looked up at Kiethara, motioning for her to do the same.

"I like to keep these on me," she said as pleasantly as she could.

"Do you really think that's necessary?" Trinnia asked, eyeing her nervously. Navadar followed it up with a pointed look.

"All right," Kiethara sighed, a bit frustrated. She unfastened her sword and her vine belt from her waist and laid them on the ground next to Navadar's bow.

"I wish we had flowers like this in Redawn," Trinnia sighed, as they ventured farther into the field. Trinnia sat down delicately in a batch of tulips.

"Feel free to take as many as you like," Kiethara said, plopping down next to her. Trinnia made a small noise in the back of her throat at the movement, giving her a subtle look of disgust. Trinnia was sitting so stiff compared to her, legs bent gracefully underneath the folds of her dress, back poised promptly. Kiethara's muscles ached from just looking at her.

Navadar was so mistaken; things between them were never going to work out. She was a finished young woman from a strict society, while Kiethara was a free and powerful force of nature.

As Navadar sat down, Trinnia took a deep and rather shaky breath. "May I tell a story?"

Kiethara looked up in surprise. "Of course."

"It would be a pleasure," Navadar injected.

"Close your eyes," she ordered. "And imagine a small, lonely village on a small round hill. Animals scurry back and forth, attending to their jobs and visiting their neighbors. The bear was baking some fresh bread, the chicken tending to a fire, and the badger was sweeping her front porch, just as it did on every sunny day. Imagine it, see it, smell it."

Kiethara was confused, but she kept her eyes closed. Her stories, or legends, had always been about real people with real problems. A village of animals seemed like nonsense.

"In one house there lived a beautiful fox. She was sleek, cunning, and wise. All of the villagers listened to what she had to say. She was granted the biggest cottage on the grandest plot of land. No one could tell her what to do.

"Now right next to her on one side was an empty cottage, while on the other side lived a horse. He was a very beautiful animal as well—the fox visited him often, admiring his gleaming coat and handsome cottage.

"The fox ate up all the attention the villagers gave her. She could not live without it, vain as she was. They followed her around, desperately trying to touch her soft fur or receive her blessing. The fox was never alone, except for when she slept."

Kiethara shifted her weight uncomfortably. The story was beginning to sound familiar, and it was making her feel very awkward. Was Trinnia telling her own story to them?

"One day, there was a stir in the village. Word quickly spread that there was a visitor in their small little community. Everybody, even the fox, went to investigate.

"A dove was sitting in the center of town; everybody had formed a circle around her. No one would go up to her, but no one could look away. They had never seen a dove before, for the village played home to no birds. And this was the grandest of them all.

Kiethara's stomach clenched. She was beginning to feel very uneasy, as though she sensed something... _forbidding_. This story seemed to be about her as well.

"The horse became very interested in the dove. She sparkled in his eyes. As the dove began to weave her way into the lives of the villagers, the horse began to spend more time with the dove and less time with the fox. Almost all of the villagers had pushed the fox to the back of their minds."

So the horse was Navadar. She had to admit, Trinnia was brave if she had planned this to be her apology.

"The fox became jealous and enraged. The dove had moved into the house next to hers, so every day the fox had to watch as animals would stop in front of it and stare. Before they would walk off, they always took a little of the dove's fruit from her garden without asking. Then they walked straight past the fox's house without stopping to say hello.

"The horse was the only one who was genuinely nice to the dove. He visited her often, and because of that, he stopped visiting the fox. Stuck in her house, the fox became restless. Then one day...then one day she made a terrible...mistake..."

Something was wrong. Trinnia kept choking on her words, as though she were...crying.

It all happened very fast.

Kiethara's gut clenched, the connection in the back of her mind went off, and the air around them became heavy with dark magic.

"And they all lived happily ever after," a horrible voice chuckled in her ear.

Kiethara gasped, her eyes flying open. She was on her feet in a flash, but it took her a minute to absorb what was happening.

Gandador had appeared right behind her, the sight of him bringing a wave of emotions she had not felt in a long time. A shudder rolled down her spin.

He was not alone. Right behind Navadar stood a tall, bulky figure. This man had the darkest skin she had seen yet, a chocolate brown that matched the color of Trinnia's dress. He wore a rustic purple robe, his face lined with so many piercings it made her stomach churn.

Trinnia broke into sobs.

Besides her, Navadar jumped to his feet, reaching behind him to grab his bow, but his hand grasped empty air. It was not there. It was at the edge of the beautiful meadow, hidden by the tall flowers, along with Kiethara's sword and vine belt. Kiethara felt like smacking herself.

Gandador began circling them with a smile that promised violence.

"I'm....I-I...I'm s-sorry, Navadar," Trinnia choked out.

"What did you do?!" he cried, spinning on his heel as though he was trying to face everybody at once.

"I...I..." she sobbed.

"Mmm, yes, Miss Trinnia was of great use to me," Gandador said, almost to himself. "I was shocked to see Navadar in Nikkoi, but even more surprised when I spotted him with this captivating young woman. I had to make sure he wasn't toying around with my daughter and, in my... _investigation_ , I realized that this beautiful blond could be of use to me, so here I am."

Gandador stopped in front of Kiethara, touching the tip of her nose with the point of his finger. "I was protecting you, child. You should be grateful."

Kiethara flinched away from his cold touch, glaring. Navadar pushed himself in front of her.

"Don't touch her!" he growled at Gandador.

"Navadar—" Kiethara started.

"This time I'm not going anywhere," he said through his teeth.

Gandador cocked his eyebrow. "If you insist."

Kiethara threw herself in front of Navadar just in time. Gandador's fist collided with the side of her face and, if Kiethara had not planted her feet, she would have been sent flying.

"Hey!" Navadar yelled. Trinnia sobbed even harder.

Kiethara spat blood out of her mouth and looked up at Gandador with a look of pure hatred.

"That's the best you can do?" she mocked.

"Child," he chuckled dangerously. "You haven't seen anything yet. The game has just begun."

Navadar tried to step in front of her again. If he kept it up, he would be dead within a second.

"N-No!" Trinnia cried. "Y-You said you w-wouldn't hurt him!"

Had Trinnia actually believed that Gandador would restrain from causing pain? She was a fool!

The worst part was that Kiethara could not protect them.

Anger and hatred filled her to the brim, leaving no room for fear. Despite all of her preparations, she could not focus on her shield. Every time she did, frustration at the fool sobbing at her feet pushed it away.

"Correction, my dear," he replied coolly. "I said I wouldn't _kill_ him."

Navadar turned around to look at Trinnia with a look of utter disbelief.

"I'm a man of my word, Miss Trinnia," he continued. "Don't you worry. And if you don't believe me, ask Kiethara. She can tell you from experience."

Kiethara's hands burst into flames, making Trinnia yelp in shock. Navadar did not react in any way; he was too busy staring at Trinnia as though he had never seen anything like her in his life. Had he expected anything else from her?

Gandador's eyes glinted dangerously. "Now, now, let's not fight yet. I still haven't introduced you to my accomplice yet. This is Tryke."

Tryke did not respond to Gandador's words in any way. He continued to stand there, arms crossed, his dark eyes soaking in the scene before him. He didn't even shift his weight.

"Navadar," Kiethara hissed. "You're going to have to take Trinnia and—"

"No!"

"Listen, I can't protect both of you—"

"She doesn't need protecting."

Kiethara looked up at him in shock. His expression had changed from disbelief to furious betrayal. He wouldn't even look at Trinnia anymore.

"No!" she cried. Kiethara had never seen anyone look so broken. "N-Navadar! I'm sorry!"

"Too late for apologies, my dear. Betrayal is not easily forgotten," Gandador said calmly. Kiethara made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat. He would know.

"He made me!" she cried.

"I do not like people who lie," Gandador said, suddenly annoyed. Kiethara's stomach dropped. Usually, he was always so collected and calm. Even a hint of anger made him seen murderous. "I only proved that you valued your own life more than his. And for that, you die."

Kiethara couldn't have stopped it. She didn't even see it happen.

The sound of a sword being drawn, a flash of silver in the sunlight, and a blood-curdling scream that was cut off abruptly. All of these things seemed to happen simultaneously, not in any order. Before Kiethara had registered that Gandador had even moved, Trinnia's body was at his feet, blood pooling out of her neck with her head severed from her body.

Navadar yelled something, but Kiethara did not hear what it was. She could not take her eyes away from the liquid crimson that was drenching her mother's flowers. Fear spread through her body, choking her.

Gandador cupped Kiethara's chin in his hand and forced her gaze away from the beautiful corpse. "Not for the eyes of a young girl."

Her shield exploded out from her body, sending all three men flying.

The world seemed to pause for just one heartbeat, long enough for her to realize that Tryke and Gandador would not stay on the ground forever.

"Navadar, come on!" she screamed. With a blast of wind from behind her, she was at his side in a moment, pulling his to his feet.

"Come on, Navadar, we have to run!" she cried.

"What just happened?" he asked, dazed.

"Come on!" she urged.

Hand in hand, they sprinted towards the one and only place that popped into her mind. Soon they broke through the line of trees and, with one arm in front of her to beat away the branches and the other behind her to keep Navadar from falling behind, she raced through the green and brown. Everything made her gasp. A squirrel jumped from a tree and she almost lost her footing. The two pricks in her connection that were Gandador and Tryke disappeared for the time being, but she knew they would be back. At any moment, Gandador could be at her side.

"Run, Navadar, run!" she cried again, her surroundings but a blur. Navadar's boots thudded heavily.

Finally, they entered the center of the forest. The guardian's lake.

"Aaron!" Kiethara called in a breathless pant.

After a moment of silence, there was no response.

Kiethara stared at the lake in disbelief before shaking her head. She, apparently, was on her own.

"Navadar," she whispered, turning to him. "Are you all right?"

He looked down at her in surprise. The shock was still wide in his eyes.

Lightly, she placed a hand on his cheek. "I need you to focus now. Gandador is coming. I need your help."

He continued to look down at her.

"Please, for me," she begged. "I need you to focus. Gandador will not show us any mercy."

At this, Navadar's eyes regained a certain spark. He took her hand and placed her fingers on his lips, brushing them back and forth, and then kissing them gently. He took his other hand and weaved his fingers through her hair.

"I won't let him touch you," he growled. "I'll kill him, I swear I will!"

"I know, trust me, I know," she murmured. She could feel his pain. Gandador had killed her mother, and now he had killed Navadar's friend. They both thirsted for revenge.

Kiethara suddenly flinched as two pricks of presence reentered the connection in her head. It took her only a second to realize they had appeared right next to her.

Pain exploded in her head as she was sent flying. She hit the ground hard, skidding to the edge of the lake.

"I would appreciate it if you kept your hands off of my daughter," Gandador said coolly.

Kiethara pulled herself to her feet and pushed herself through the air at record speed. Her shield appeared just as she reached Navadar, enveloping them in gold.

Gandador sighed.

"Kiethara!" Navadar gasped. He wiped something red off her forehead.

Kiethara turned towards Gandador. She felt dizzy already.

"You tell him not to touch me, and then you send _me_ flying?" she asked, pausing for a moment. At least it had not been the other way around. "Thanks."

Gandador stared at her for a fraction of a second before smirking. "Don't try mind tricks on me, child. I created them."

"You're getting arrogant in your old age," she growled angrily, her shield flickering.

He looked pointedly at her shield. "Like I said, I created mind tricks."

Kiethara blinked, and then she shook her head. She had to get Navadar out of here. Tryke might not have made a sound yet, but she didn't doubt that he had magic to match hers.

At that moment, all she wanted to do was protect him. All she wanted to do was fly away with him.

So that was exactly what happened.

Before she knew it, her golden sphere was hovering in the air, housing Navadar and herself. She felt the strain in her muscles and, with a tremendous groan, she brought her hands up and placed them on the roof of her shield. It shot off the ground and flung her into the air, stopping just above the tree tops. Sweat rolled down her neck. How did she...?

Besides her, a very pale Navadar was gaping at the ground. He kept on lifting his feet as though he expected to fall through the almost transparent surface.

Away and protected. Her powers had given her just what she needed, by nothing but pure desperation. Would Aaron consider desperation an emotion?

Kiethara scanned the horizon. She wanted to get Navadar to safety, but she didn't want to leave the relatively small section of forest she had come to memorize. How could she use her surroundings to her advantage?

With that, she pushed the sphere back the way they had come, straining with the tremendous effort it took her. It wasn't as fast as her normal flying, but it was quicker than if they had been running on the ground below.

Navadar gave a sickened groan as they sped over the trees. He looked as though he was going to puke.

"Just a little...farther..." she panted. She was headed to the perfect little area where the trees became a bit more spaced...Where he had first taught her to use his bow...

His bow!

The weapons they had put down! She needed to get them; if anything, they would give her an advantage, and Navadar would have a slim chance to fight his way out. They would just have to stay away from...from Trinnia.

Swallowing back bile, she redirected their course.

"Take your eyes off the ground!" she warned him. "I have to fly over the meadow to get to the other side!"

Navadar locked eyes with her for a moment, and she saw something in them that she never wanted to see again.

She began to fly over the meadow, but they had only reached the single cherry blossom tree that stood off in the corner when she sensed Gandador and Tryke's presence again.

This wasn't fair! Her connection was supposed to give her a warning, give her an advantage! But Gandador knew about her connection, and it seemed he was using it against her. He wouldn't stay in the same spot for more than a second, unless, of course, he spotted her.

Kiethara knew there was only one person to blame for that, and that was her mother. For the first time in her life, she was angry at her.

The two presences that she felt split up. What were they doing?

"Look!" Navadar said suddenly, pointing.

She followed his gaze until she spotted a black figure rapidly approaching. That was one, and she could feel the other approaching her from the other side.

"I'm really tired of you and this...sphere," Gandador said in a murderous tone. He stopped right before them, standing in the air with his arms crossed.

"Never tell your enemies what you want. They'll just give you the exact opposite," she said coolly, trying to buy them some time. Her mind was working furiously.

Gandador chuckled. "You've been spending too much time with Sinsenta and not enough time with me. Don't tantalize me, child."

Fire appeared between his hands and before she could blink, he flew forward and struck the side of her shield.

The vibrations shot painfully down her arms, sending her smacking into Navadar. They dropped in altitude.

"No!" Navadar cried.

Kiethara did not see what hit her, but it sent her head back as her shield lurched from the force of it. It was too much...she couldn't hold on...

The shield disappeared.

Gravity flung Navadar and her barreling towards the ground. The rich soil felt like stone against her body, and memories of events that had happened nearly a year ago flooded through her mind. The hideous fire...Of course, that fall had been twice the height, but the impact felt just the same.

Besides her, Navadar groaned and rolled over. "Kiethara..."

She moaned in response, pushing tulips out of her face. Her joints cracked in a sickening way, but nothing felt broken.

Two brown leather boots landed inches from her head.

Her heart stopped for a brief second before taking off in her breast. Gandador was standing over her with his signature smirk, looking down at her as though he had won a grand prize.

"Finally," he said. "It's time to experiment. What makes a guardian tick?"

Kiethara rolled on her feet, but before she could focus on her powers he had her by the throat.

"Tryke, the boy," he said coolly.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Navadar being forced onto his knees by Tryke. His hands were forced together by two rings of fire.

"Let her go!" he yelled angrily. She would have said the same if she could breath.

"Quiet, boy, I need to concentrate," Gandador said.

Did Gandador truly believe that she would stay limp for him to toy with? He would learn firsthand that she was now an expert in physical combat.

She brought her knee up into his stomach. The grip on her neck released, but it did not hinder him for long.

His leg flashed out, aimed at her, but she ducked underneath it. She used her momentum to kick herself off the ground and use her shoulder to force Gandador back.

A hint of surprise lit Gandador's features. "Why, you've gotten quite strong. I might actually have fun with this."

Her hands burst into flames and she lunged. He knocked her arms aside with ease, and then countered with a blow that knocked her on her back.

Kiethara rolled to her right just in time. A bloody blade thudded in the dirt in the exact same place her chest had been.

Gandador grunted as he pulled his sword out of the ground. The red coating the metal had made her stomach drop in disgust.

Gandador pushed the thought out of her head by aiming another strike at her. She let her shield fly up, and the metal rebounded off of it, vibrating through her in an almost painful way.

Her hands regained their flames and she kicked off the ground. She sped towards Gandador with lightning speed and swiped her hand through the air, catching him in the chest.

He went flying towards the cherry blossom tree and landed at its roots. The front of his robes was singed, but to her disappointment she saw that she had not been able to set him on fire. At least she was strong enough to knock him on the ground now.

Gandador scowled and jumped to his feet. He pulled his sword back as though he were going to charge.

And then he threw it.

The sword was a blur as it streaked through the meager space between them. She was already hovering in the air, and although her instinct was screaming at her to duck, she tried to pull herself higher.

It was the wrong decision.

Kiethara let out a cry as the edge of the blade caught her thigh. She hit the ground for the third time that day, but this timed with a pained scream that filled the meadow hauntingly.

She raised her head and pulled back the white fabric of her short dress. A deep, six inch long gash split her thigh, blood already seeping out of it.

Breathing heavily, she pushed her hand down on it, stopping the flow of crimson. Kiethara gasped as pain shot down her leg. _I need my potion bottles_ , she thought desperately.

"No—" Navadar tried to cry, but it was cut off as Tryke kicked him.

In her head, Gandador's presence flickered as he disappeared and reappeared.

Right above her.

His elbow came down on her head. Her vision flickered as pain exploded in her scalp. Limp on the ground, she waited with closed eyes for the pain to fade.

"Now that she's out, I can finally see if it is possible," he murmured to himself, his voice triumphant.

Out? He thought she was unconscious! Kiethara lay in the flowers, torn. Should she get up before he had a chance to look at her too closely, or should she wait a few moments...?

Kiethara felt him grab her arm and pull it off the grass. It took all of her concentration to keep her arm limp, and even more focus to not cry out as something brushed past her injured leg.

"Keep your hands off of her!" Navadar bellowed.

"Is that all we have to say to each other, boy?" Gandador asked.

Kiethara heard the faint sound of Navadar struggling with his bonds—a hopeless cause.

Gandador began fingering her bracelets; she could feel him try to slip his fingernails underneath the gold. But he couldn't, just as she knew he wouldn't be able to. What would happen when he came to the same revelation? Would he kill her on the spot?

"So tell me, how's Redawn?" Gandador asked, and then he chuckled. "It's been a while since I last visited."

"I'll kill you!" Navadar hissed, pure rage in his voice. That was Navadar, transforming his fear into anger.

"You can't imagine the number of people who have told me that," he said, his voice bored.

"I will be the last," he growled.

"You're a fine boy, Navadar. Don't tempt me to end your life. If I wasn't in a war with my daughter, here, I would be happy to give you two my blessing."

"Blessing!" Navadar spat in disgust. "You're not capable."

"Is that what you believe?" he murmured. His hands moved up from her arm to her locket. "Did she ever show you this?"

"What does that have to do with anything?!" Navadar roared. There was a dull thud.

"Thank you, Tryke, that is enough," Gandador said.

Navadar cursed.

"Did she?"

"Yes," he answered grudgingly.

"Good, good. And with that, you should understand that I understand love. I felt it."

"And then became a selfish bastard!"

"Yes," Gandador agreed calmly. His hands moved back down to her crystals. "In one way, at least. You and I are so alike, Navadar. You're walking in my footsteps. I know how you feel.

"You walked into the forest in search of treasure, honor, and perhaps adventure. And then you stumbled upon this glorious goddess, practically spinning in the air of magic that surrounds her. Everything about her is wild, exotic. Simply intoxicating. She is an answer to your prayers, a way out of the repetitive life you have. Essentially, the adventure you have always wanted."

Gandador's voice was low. Kiethara could not tell if he was telling his own story or telling Navadar his. However, she could not stop herself from listening. She knew that she had to act soon, but his words...

"And then her powers. It's strange, knowing that she could kill you at any second, but you know that if you left, you would always want to come back. Don't you agree?"

"I..." Navadar stammered.

"Yes, boy, we have the same story. And eventually, you will see the reason behind my logic. You will crave her powers more than her body one day."

"You're talking nonsense! Of course I wouldn't—"

"Fine, don't believe me. Sleep with her, make love with her, and then watch her fly away. Desire will pump through your veins through it all, but longing will come when flowers grow instantly at her feet."

"How can you speak like this?" Navadar asked in disgust.

"I don't fear words, boy, "Gandador said. "You see—"

Kiethara could not wait any longer. Between the pain in her leg and the frustration at his words, she had to do something.

Her good leg came up in a swift thrust and her foot made contact with Gandador's skull. Without waiting for him to respond, she rolled onto her knees and tackled him into the grass.

Her weight wasn't enough to knock him very far. Ignoring Navadar's cries of surprise, she elbowed Gandador in the throat. He grunted in pain, paused, and then chuckled. She stared at him in shock, panting heavily as she adjusted her knee on his chest. Fire, she thought desperately, come one...

It was too late; Gandador's chuckle still had her staring down at him in shock and bewilderment. It left her no room for anger.

Gandador's arm snaked around her waist and crushed her to his chest.

"Child, you have a peculiar talent of getting yourself into perilous situations. Did you even bother to think that maneuver through?"

"No," she panted. "I was too busy trying to kill you."

"If I weren't your father, and I was truly intent on killing you and stamping out magic from the world completely, this would be a very dangerous situation," he chuckled darkly. "But for now, I think its best you remain unconscious."

Gandador raised his hand, but before he could even twitch a finger Kiethara brought her other knee to his groin. He exhaled sharply, throwing her off of his chest. She flew off and hit the trunk of her mother's cherry blossom, crying out as she fell back down amongst the flowers. She gasped, the pain in her leg flaring sickeningly.

"A bad place to hit a man," Gandador growled, standing up.

Humiliation washed through her. Gandador was mocking her, on top of throwing her aside like a common rag. She looked like a weak fool, and in front of Navadar, too. He would not see a high and mighty warrior now.

With that, she turned invisible.

She didn't have the time to appreciate that her powers had finally worked with her instead of against her. She ripped off her mother's locket and threw it aside; it did not become invisible like the rest of her. She would have to find it later.

"Tryke, watch your back," Gandador warned. For some reason, she knew that warning was the closest thing she would ever get to seeing him in fear.

However, Tryke was not her priority. Not even Navadar. The cold truth washed through her, and she realized she needed to end this, and she needed to end it now.

Quietly, she circled Gandador. He was as still as a rock, listening to every rustle in the grass. To drown out her footsteps, Kiethara let the winds pick up. They howled loudly, the rustling of the leaves loud enough to drown out even Navadar's rugged breathing.

"Clever girl," Gandador growled. Kiethara smirked.

Her hands burst into flames as she punched Gandador in the back. His robes caught and he stumbled forward as she relocated herself.

Gandador spun around and swiped his fist through the air, but he caught nothing. Kiethara felt him put out the smoldering flame on his back with his own winds. She had already extinguished the flames on her hand and—making sure to keep her breathing quiet—she lunged again, this time bringing her foot to his gut.

He fell back into the grass, and she kicked him in the ribs. It felt glorious to feel his flesh bruise under the impact of her own. Glorious to know that they had reached a point where they were almost evenly matched. Getting cocky, she brought her foot down on him again.

This time, he caught her foot.

With what felt like all of his strength he yanked it off the ground, pulling himself up and spinning her around. He let go of her and she felt herself tumble through the air, the world spinning around her in a flash of colors that included her own limbs, which were visible again. For a moment she felt weightless, but her mind finally reached a place of clarity. She caught herself in the air not a moment too soon, saving herself from another much undesired impact with the ground.

To her surprise, Gandador began walking in the opposite direction. She thought he was going to leave the meadow, but then he bent down and picked up his sword.

Her sword!

Kiethara tore through the sky the second the revelation occurred to her. She closed her eyes halfway there, in order to avoid seeing Trinnia's body. She could dwell of that later...

She almost cried out in joy when she spotted her sword lying next to her potion bottles and Navadar's bow. Wait, _Navadar's bow_!

Without hesitation she picked it up, running her finger over the cool bone and wood. His quiver was full of graceful arrows, and she quickly pulled on out and strung it. For a moment she savored its strength as she pulled back the string and aimed.

Gandador cried out in pain.

With clumsy fingers she pulled back another arrow, taking several steps forward. She could see Gandador clutching his shoulder in agony...

This time when she released the arrow it caught on fire, and the blazing missile sped through the air and landed neatly in Tryke's thigh. When the man bellowed, his voice was deep. She let two more fly after the men, watching them with satisfaction as her arrows made their targets...

Then they disappeared.

CHAPTER 44

### FORGIVEN

Kiethara collapsed into the soft flowers, the bow slipping out of her hands and tumbling down into the grass next to her. Her breathing came in sharp gasps that tore at every wound. Her leg throbbed repulsively, but Kiethara did not have the strength to see if it was still bleeding. Every inch of her body ached and every beat of her heart brought on a new wave of exhaustion and agony.

Along with the pain came a wave of relief. Relief that she had been able to endure the battle against her father. She had expected a visit from him alone, with herself alone. But he had brought another man of equal power, and Navadar had decided to come and pay a visit too, towing along Trinnia, of all people. Everything that could have gone wrong had gone wrong, and everything that she had expected and not expected had come on in a single wave of misfortune and bad timing. In more ways than she could have possibly imagined, she had become a victim of circumstance.

But the forest was safe. Navadar was safe. For the time being, Gandador was gone.

But for how long?

How much had Gandador taken in when he had been toying with her arms? How much information had he been able to glean from his observations? Even though Aaron hid it well, his doubts on whether or not Gandador's mission was possible made her uneasy.

In her head, her connection told her that Navadar was headed her way. His presence was so faint she could barely feel it; he had no magic.

"Kiethara!" he cried hoarsely, his boots thudding heavily.

She tried to reply, but all that came out was a soft moan.

"Kiethara," he said in relief, and she felt him kneel down next to her. His warm hand felt nice as he brushed the hair out of her face.

A sudden light filled the meadow, lighting up against her eyelids.

"Kiethara," Aaron said. "Open your eyes."

She cracked them open only to be blinded by the intense glow. Another wave of relief washed over her. Aaron was here, and that slowed the pounding of her heart with a magnificent sense of security.

"I want to go to sleep," she mumbled, closing her eyes again. Aaron chuckled and Navadar sighed in weak relief.

"Navadar," she said a bit louder. "Are you all right?"

"I'm...fine," he said, struggling with the last word. The pain in his voice revealed the reason why. What were they going to do?

"Navadar, hand me her vine belt," Aaron instructed. She heard the familiar clink of bottles.

"That bad, huh?" she asked, cracking an eye open.

"Not nearly as bad as it must feel," Aaron reasoned.

"Not nearly as bad as it must look," she corrected, already imagining the ugly scar. "Now, tell me really. How bad is it?"

Aaron sighed. "Your cheek is bruised, your scalp is bleeding, you have a gash in your leg, and most of your left leg is bruised, along with a decent amount of your right. That's only what is visible."

All of a sudden, pain shot down her leg. Kiethara hissed and bolted upright. Aaron was pouring the sparkling silver liquid over the open flesh, the sharp pain paralyzing her as the wound came together. Finally, after several excruciating moments, the agony ended, leaving a bright pink scar in its place.

She fingered it with a pang of regret. The scar on her right arm had faded slightly, but the ugly thing would be there for the rest of her life. How long would this new scar haunt her now?

Kiethara looked up and began to say something, but she froze in the middle of a word when she saw Navadar's face.

Half of it was bruised and on his cheek was a small cut. He, too, had to be bruised underneath his clothes from their fall. The only part she could guarantee was untouched was the side of his face Tryke had not bothered to hit.

She reached up with her mouth still open and lightly touched two fingers to the black and blue marks that stained his handsome face."Navadar..."

He grabbed her fingers and grinned. "What? Am I not pretty anymore?"

Kiethara tried to grin back, but she was disgusted with herself for allowing it to happen. She could hear that beneath his joking tone was a very shaky countenance, almost to the point of hysteria. The image of Trinnia's head rolling off of her neck flashed before her eyes...

"You two should get some rest," Aaron suggested, interrupting the silent moment.

"Not yet."

All joking in Navadar's tone had vanished. His tone was now rough, a low monotone that seemed to mature him by several years.

"Navadar," Aaron began in the patronizing tone he used on her. For some reason, she felt a pang of jealousy.

"I have to bury her," he said in a dead voice.

"You're hurt," Kiethara whispered.

"She's dead."

Kiethara opened her mouth only to shut it again. The expression on Navadar's face was intimidating; it pushed all words of comfort out of her head. Finally, she nodded.

"I'll help you."

Something dangerous sparked in his eyes. "Absolutely not."

Kiethara flinched back in surprise. "Why not?"

"Friends and family bury the dead," he said harshly. "You didn't know her."

Wounded pride sent her crystals glowing brightly. "And where exactly do you plan on burying her? Do you forget you need my permission to bury her here? I am fairly certain it works the same way in your kingdoms. One does not bury their deceased in some else's backyard!"

Navadar looked at her with anger. "You would make me carry her out of the forest?"

"I am only advising you not to scorn my help when you require my grace!" she said coolly. With a confined moan she stood up, Navadar and Aaron doing the same.

"She died and this is all your worried about?!" he roared. "I don't need your grace!"

"Do not forget," Aaron interrupted in a strong voice. "That you need my permission as well, and under no circumstances will I allow it if you insult my own kin."

Navadar clenched his jaw for a moment and then let out an angry breath. "May I bury her here?"

"Of course," Kiethara said in a small voice. She looked up at him with sincerity, but he looked away. Anger and grief shadowed his features.

"Yes, Navadar," Aaron said. "But you knew the risks of coming here. Remember that."

Navadar walked off without a word. He was headed back towards the meadow.

Kiethara turned away from his retreating figure.

"Aaron..." she said, an audible lump in her throat.

"Shh, Kiethara, none of this is your fault," he said softly. "Navadar turns his raw emotions into anger. Let him deal with his grief."

"Gandador—"

"We will discuss that later, Kiethara. I do not expect him to return. Go now, and take care not to over do it. You are still weak."

Kiethara did not particularly enjoy the fact that he had called her weak, but she could feel the truth of his words in her bones. She even felt dizzy.

"Thank you," she whispered.

She turned away from him as he disappeared. Taking a long, deep breath, she walked into the meadow.

Navadar was standing not too far off, his face tilted towards the sky. He had not reached Trinnia yet. She paused, bouncing on the balls of her feet, allowing her bruises to throb. The pain, ironically, helped clear her head.

"Navadar?" Her quiet voice was carried on a new breeze that had been aroused by her fear.

He did not respond, not at first. She could not see his expression, only his blond hair flipping and tossing in the wind.

"I want to bury her here," he said.

Kiethara walked forward and tentatively placed a hand on his back. "Why not under the tree, in the shade?"

He pulled away from her hand. "Why?"

"No one will walk over...her. The tree will mark her grave." The words came out awkward. Her empty hand stung.

Navadar's anger faded for a moment, but his eyes were dead. Finally, he nodded.

"I'll start the grave," he said in a gruff voice.

"No," Kiethara said quickly. "Let me."

"No!" he growled, clenching his fists. Kiethara shrank back. She felt like one more wrong word would break him into pieces.

"But what will you dig with?" she asked softly.

Kiethara knew she shouldn't have said anything else. Her logic was wearing on him, and now she had run him too thin.

"Fine!" he hissed loudly. "You dig the grave! I don't CARE!"

Kiethara took a step back and pressed her lips together. She felt like she was going to cry, and that only made her angry. If it were not for Aaron's words resounding in her head, she would have set the flowers around them on fire.

"Okay, then," she said, kicking off into the air, making sure to keep her eyes firmly on the tree.

She landed lightly in the grass, overcoming a new wave of dizziness. In the shade, the flowers looked richer in color and, despite their lack of sun, they continued to grow in bulk. A beautiful place for a beautiful girl.

With a deep breath, Kiethara tried to focus on her powers. Never before had she found it so difficult to use the element of earth. It had always come to her so naturally. It took much effort to draw forth the small bit of happiness that she needed.

The forest still stands, she reminded herself.

Finally her crystals went bright and her connection surged through her.

The cherry blossom tree groaned as Kiethara pulled its roots out and let them tear at the soil. Regretfully, she let them rip up her mother's beautiful flowers and scoop up mounds of dirt until there was a gaping hole in the lovely meadow, drenched in the shade of her mother's tree. It was deep, almost seven feet long and three feet wide. Perfect for her delicate and slender frame.

Still, the grave did not seem right for some reason. Kiethara did not like the idea of having Trinnia—she winced as she thought the name—lying in the dirt. She knew that if the girl could say anything, it would be an objection against having her silk frock sullied. Kiethara had an idea.

Sunflowers, tulips, lilies. All those flowers bloomed inside the grave, blossoming at an unnatural speed. The colors swirled together, but somehow the bright colors still appeared to be mournful, the petals drooping just slightly. They reflected her mood perfectly, although there was one feeling the petals could not represent.

Guilt.

It ripped through Kiethara so suddenly that she almost doubled over. She gasped and clutched her stomach. The pain came with such force. She had not known Trinnia, she had not loved her, but...

She had killed her.

Kiethara felt as though the word "murderer" should be written across her forehead. The same word was burned into her heart; why shouldn't everyone else see it? If Trinnia had not come here, she would not be dead. If she had not felt the need to apologize, she would have been enjoying a quiet lunch in Redawn right now, sipping tea with her numerous suitors and dotting friends. If Kiethara had never been dragged to Redawn, this girl would still be breathing.

Her own father had manipulated the poor girl just so he could get to Kiethara. He had forced Trinnia to bow to his will just so he could catch her by surprise, catch her unguarded. Kiethara knew that if she had not been so engrossed in Trinnia's fable she would have sensed it sooner. She should have sensed it sooner.

The sound of thudding boots stopped her thoughts from continuing down their spiral of despair. She sucked in a deep breath, locking in the guilt that threatened to burst. For some reason, Kiethara knew Navadar should not see that.

For some reason...

Everything happened for a reason...Why did Trinnia die? Navadar did not deserve this. This grief, this pain...It should not be his. It shouldn't even be hers! Trinnia should still be here. There was no reason. For the first time in her life, there was no reason. Kiethara could not justify it.

Finally, the boots behind her got too close to ignore. She turned around.

And choked back a scream.

Navadar was cradling Trinnia's body in his arms. The chocolate lace of her dress was still elegant, even soaked in blood. And on her lap, leaning against his stomach, was her head, her hair still up in a tight bun.

Kiethara turned her head, fighting with all her might not to let the bile rise from her stomach. Her eyes stung, but she let no tears come.

He stopped across from her, looking down at the grave. His pale, slightly green expression did not change. His eyes looked the same, twisted with such pain that she was surprised he was still standing. She doubted he saw a grave, only a hole he would have to lay her in.

Carefully, he kneeled down slowly. He hesitated then, his grief ripping through his features. It came fiercely after trying to be controlled, and it was unrelenting. Kiethara's own guilt redoubled like a punch in her stomach. She had caused him this pain. The pain of her wounds felt like nothing compared to watching him burn alive in front of her.

He lowered her body and laid it gently on the flowers, rearranging her head so it looked to be a whole, single unit again. He took her hands and folded them flat against her stomach.

Navadar stood up. A strange noise came out of the back of his throat.

Kiethara opened her mouth, but her throat was tight. Could she get any words out? Well, were there really any words of comfort that she could give him?

She looked down at Trinnia. She had come here for forgiveness; she deserved it.

"I..." Kiethara said in an abnormally high pitched voice. She stumbled through the rest of her words. "I-I forgive y-you..."

Navadar looked up at her, a little bit of shock mingling with his misery. His eyes burned with tears, his face flaming red, but he still managed to nod at her. She took it as a signal.

Gently this time, Kiethara lifted the exposed roots of the tree. Creaking and groaning, they picked up the piles of soil and dumped them into the grave. Kiethara did not watch, using her connection to guide her movements. Finally, when the soil was back in its previous position, she grew grass—emerald green, luscious blades—and they quickly spread over the bare ground.

Was such silence normal when you buried the dead? It burned with unspoken emotions. She looked up at him.

Navadar was staring at the grave with bright eyes. His fists were clenched along with his teeth, the veins in his neck pulsing. He seemed not to be breathing at all.

"Navadar..." she finally whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"Why?!" he roared suddenly, causing her to stumble back. "You didn't know her! You didn't even like her! If it weren't for you, she wouldn't be here!"

Every word was a stab to many places in her body. And every painful, piercing word was true. A broken sob escaped her lips. She deserved to be yelled at.

"Your own father killed her! And you didn't STOP HIM! YOU COULD HAVE! It's _your_ fault!"

"I didn't—" she sobbed, chocking over her words. "I don't...I'm sorry..."

"WHY DIDN'T YOU STOP HIM?!" he roared, throwing his arms up and taking a step forward. "WHY DIDN'T YOU?"

"Stop it! Stop it!" she cried, covering her ears. "Please!"

"You could have," he said hoarsely, a sob escaping his lips. "You let her die."

"Please," she moaned pathetically, backing up. "Please stop!"

Above her, thunder rumbled.

Navadar took a shaky breath, tears running out of his eyes. "She would still be here."

Her crystals glowed brightly as lightening flashed. She sobbed so hard her frame shuddered.

"Please," she moaned again. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

This time, Navadar just let out a wordless cry and struck his fist through the air. Even yards away, she could still feel its impact. He could not keep blaming her! But he was in so much pain.

"Navadar—" she tried again, but he interrupted her.

"Don't you care about anything else besides this forsaken forest?! Don't you realize that you're responsible?!" he screamed. The words slapped her in the face.

"Your right!" she said. "You're right! I killed her! It was my fault!

Every word was drenched in her guilt. She turned away from Navadar, embarrassed by the tears streaming from her eyes. Why had he come back to her? Why had she let him? All she did was bring hardship and strife onto his life, entangling it with her own and weaving it into something far more complicated than it needed to be.

Behind her, Navadar was silent. She took that as her saving grace and, before he could pierce her with another word, she took off. Her feet were silent against the grass. She couldn't find the power to fly.

After a few minutes, she arrived in her clearing, clutching her stomach. She gasped, but from what, she did not know. Dragging her body to one of the two trees that supported her hammock, she closed her eyes and laid her forehead on it. She let go of time, and it melted away...

At first, her head was void of thought. Only emotion surged through her, but it was unrecognizable, one big mass that overwhelmed her. She felt, of course, the guilt at first. Out of everything she had felt that day—fear anger, and pain—it blew her away. Like dry kindle, Navadar's words had fueled the burning grief inside her that no amount of tears would douse any time soon.

She rolled her forehead over the wood of the bark, letting it scratch against her forehead. Above her, the thunder boomed once and rain began to fall.

Something clicked inside her.

Inside her was a swirling mass of sorrow, anger, and fear. Above her was a swirling mass of rain, lightening, and winds. Could the storm be a result of her? She remembered back to when she had been running through those hideous plains and Navadar had caught up with her. The same thing had occurred there, and—

Her train of thought was interrupted by a wolf. It trotted through her clearing, nose to the ground, paying no heed to her at all, and thankfully not going near Navadar's horse. Kiethara knew why. It smelled blood. The rest of the pack would not be far behind.

Did this mean Navadar was in trouble? Kiethara doubted that he would attract their attention any more than she had, but what if he got surprised, and decided to attack? How many could he kill? One? They would eat him alive, and it would be all her fault. Again.

She quickly discovered, however, that her worry was not necessary. She wondered if this was unfortunate or not.

The thudding boots behind her sounded so sad that she almost burst into tears again.

But still, the wind picked up. Was he here to scream at her again? She understood why he was frustrated, but she did not know if she could take it. It had only stopped raining, and next time, water might not be the only element she could not control.

Kiethara did not turn around when the boots stopped behind her. She stood there, her forehead leaning against the tree, every muscle tensed and ready to flee again. She realized that she was holding her breath.

His gentle hands surprised her.

His arms wrapped around her waist and he buried his face in her long hair. She stood, frozen in his embrace, but after a moment, she leaned into it.

"I'm so sorry," she said in a broken whisper. Her eyes stung.

He did not respond. She felt him press his face harder into her hair. His cheeks were wet.

Kiethara turned her head and laid her forehead on his. He hugged her tighter, as though afraid she would run away again.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispered. "It just...just can't..." he paused and shuddered. "It just can't be you. It can't."

Kiethara opened her mouth in shock. What was he saying? All this time she had never bothered to imagine what would have happened if Gandador's sword had been aimed somewhere different.

She twisted in his embrace and lifted his chin up. She gazed at his bruised features for a moment. No, if it had been him...she shuddered and then brought her lips to his.

Navadar ran his hands up and down her arms and she shivered. She had not realized how cold the rain had made her.

"Don't leave," she whispered when they broke apart. "Not today, please."

"I have to go back," he whispered back. "I have to tell them."

She had no reply—guilt held her tongue. What had Navadar gone through for Trinnia's parents to allow him to take their daughter from Redawn? What had he told them? She shuddered internally.

She turned her head away, not wanting him to see the pain in her eyes. He had his own to deal with.

Navadar was the one to take her chin this time. He forced her face forward and she flinched at the burning, raw emotion in his eyes.

"I'm coming back," he said. "Soon. I promise."

She only nodded, doubt etched into her features. It had taken him so long to come this time and, after what happened today, how in the world would Navadar's father allow him to come back? Kiethara knew it would be a while before she saw him again, no matter what he said. Her gut twisted in her stomach.

Navadar shut his eyes as though he could hear every thought running through her mind. "Somehow, I'll make it back. I can't..." he swallowed. "I won't leave you here alone."

"I can take care of myself. I always have."

"No, that's not—" he paused, and then took a deep breath. "Just...stay safe."

He kissed her lips gently, so tenderly. With that he turned around, untied his horse, and left.

Kiethara took a deep breath. He had a daunting task ahead of him.

May they all be forgiven.

CHAPTER 45

### RUINS

When Kiethara finally collapsed into her hammock and closed her eyes, she had never thought that she could feel that amount of pain by simply laying down. Her bruises pulsed, her scratches stung, and even her new scar prickled unpleasantly. Not to mention the sorrow that drenched every thought, everything besides her connection. That was the only peace inside her head. Her connection was quiet, not a single presence besides her own.

Could it really only be late afternoon? The sun wasn't even beginning its descent! It seemed like weeks ago she had woken up, ecstatic that Navadar had finally paid her a visit. It should be impossible for a day to change into a living nightmare in only a matter of hours and for a handful of reasons.

Still, the pain and sunlight were not enough to keep her awake. Exhaustion had taken on a whole new meaning for her.

With that, Kiethara drifted into a sleep that brought on a wave of blissful numbness.

But, of course, she couldn't expect peace to come to her that easily. A nightmare was in stock for her, just as it had been this morning.

Kiethara was standing on the outside edge of...Well, she did not know exactly what it was. A clearing? Perhaps. Everything in it was charred; the grass was burnt to ash and the few trees that stood were as black as night. It was strange though, for the clearing she was in was a perfect circle, with the trees aligned flawlessly.

It was strange, for the burnt foliage looked so familiar. But her empty head was numb, unwilling to think of whatever memory it was suppressing. It was not as though she cared, though.

_Surprise, surprise,_ the voice in her head commented dryly.

Kiethara ignored it.

She began walking around the edge of the circle, studying it. The ashes swirled at her feet in a familiar way.

_The fact that ashes' swirling around your feet is familiar should be warning enough,_ the voice mumbled.

Kiethara stared hard at the ground, mystified. Images flashed through her mind, but they were gone before she could get a good grasp on them.

Kiethara looked up, and suddenly, standing in the middle of the burnt circle, was Gandador. When they made eye contact he smirked and beckoned her forward. She swallowed back bile.

_Don't listen to him,_ the voice whispered.

Kiethara fought the urge to roll her eyes. It wasn't as though she had ever listened to him before. Not unless she was forced to. Kiethara continued pacing around the edge of the circle. She did not want to get any closer, but for some reason she could not go any farther away. She was bound to stay inside this burnt circle.

Gandador's bottomless eyes followed her every move as though he expected her to attack. This surprised her. That option hadn't even occurred to her.

But attack with what? She didn't have her potions or her sword strapped to her waist. The crystals around her wrists were dead, as though there was no magic in them. She could not think of any way to hurt him.

Gandador looked up at the sky suddenly. She followed his gaze, but it was only gray and cloudy, nothing exceedingly interesting. So why did he suddenly lose in interest in her?

_Jealous?_ The voice snickered.

Again, Kiethara ignored it. Tinya was getting on her nerves.

It started to rain.

At first, Kiethara had no idea what was happening. All of a sudden, it became dark, as though all the light was being blocked from the world. The first drop landed on her skin.

It was blood.

The crimson poison poured out of the sky, drenching everything it touched, except for Gandador. Her white dress became red in a matter of seconds. She screamed and stumbled back, losing her footing on the moist ground. To her horror, she fell in a pool of blood.

The voice in her head was quiet, but Kiethara could feel the disgust that was silencing it.

Gandador laughed loudly and threw his arms up. The blood did not drench him but fell around him, slowly pooling at his feet.

"Why?!" Kiethara asked him. She did not know what had made her say the word, but it had come out of her mouth before she had time to stop it.

He didn't respond. He just kept laughing.

And then it thundered, a crack so loud it hurt her ears. So loud, in fact, that everything seemed to mute. Gandador was still laughing; she could tell by the crazed look on his face, his mouth opened wide as the silent bellows came out of him. The voice tried to say something in her head, but she could not hear it. Kiethara screamed, but no sound echoed with it.

Her heart in her throat, she scrambled to her feet, sloshing blood everywhere. It was now mixing with the ashes and the concoction it made was...nauseating.

The rain of blood continued relentlessly, pouring down onto her head. Gandador continued to laugh up at the dark clouds while the voice in her head mutely tried to give her a warning.

Why?

Kiethara tried to scream that at her father, but like everything else, it was silent. Except for the thunder that rumbled again.

Why?

She could not stop screaming that on word. It slipped from her tongue like water gushing down a waterfall. Again and again she pleaded it in her mind, desperately praying for the sound to return. All she wanted was an answer! Even if she did not fully understand the question.

Somehow she knew this answer would release her. The blood was weighing down on her shoulders, bowing her head with its mighty pressure, and she wanted it gone. She needed it off. If only Gandador would answer her!

Kiethara could practically hear the snide comment Tinya was trying to make, despite the fact that the world was on mute.

Tentatively, Kiethara tried to take a step forward. The giant lake of blood that surrounded them was now up to her knees. She gagged as she sloshed her way through it, her feet sinking into the soaked ash beneath her toes.

Finally, she reached the first ring of dead trees. The bark was now soggy and the branches drooped low. She stumbled slightly and reached out for one of the limbs for support, but it snapped off in her grip. The piece in her hand dissolved into a swirl of ashes in a matter of seconds.

How could anything be so delicate when it was drenched in blood?

Kiethara trudged on, silently screaming her question at the crazed man in front of her. Her throat hurt, for no matter how many times she shrieked the word no sound would come out.

Why?

At last, she reached her father. Grabbing the front of his robes, she shook him violently, blood splashing all around them. He stopped laughing and looked down at her in surprise. His face broke into a smirk.

With that smirk the sound returned, but it did so slowly. The thunder continued to boom as it always did, but now it sounded far away. There was a faint whispering in her head and the sloshing around her was muffled, but not quiet.

"Why?" she tried to scream, but it came out as a whisper.

The sounds started to get louder around her. In her head, she could finally hear the voice screaming.

Get out of there!

No, she wasn't going anywhere. She needed an answer, and she wanted it now.

"Why?" she asked again. His hands clasped down on her shoulders.

_He'll kill you!_ the voice screamed.

For the third time, Kiethara ignored it.

"WHY?!" Kiethara screamed, shaking Gandador again.

He chuckled and gestured towards the ground. For some reason, her stomach dropped.

"Why? Dear child, the answer is right here, at your feet! I did it so we could take over the world. I did it so magic could reign! Now they know that the threat is real!" he laughed.

Kiethara looked down. The lake of blood was gone.

They were hovering above ruins. There were crumpled buildings everywhere; the small trees that she had seen were the first among the land. The burnt grass was the remains of what had grown over the giant stone wall. Part of a gold statue stuck out of the dirt.

The ruins of Redawn.

### ***

Kiethara woke up screaming.

In some ways, the sound was reassuring. The sound rang out strong and sure as it coursed through her body.

Only when her crystals began to glow so brightly that she was blinded by them did she realize what was happening.

Aaron had warned her against this again and again. Magical bursts could be a devastating thing, so deadly that they could destroy the forest. Before she had turned sixteen, the burst would only last until her magic ran out. It would have taken her weeks afterwards to absorb what she had lost back. But now...now she could pull as much power as she wanted. The burst would continue on until the source of her magic was destroyed.

That could not happen.

Kiethara snapped her jaw close and balled up her fists. Trying to contain what yearned to explode out of her was almost painful, but she managed to wrestle the intense feeling down. With a final groan, her crystals dulled down.

Panting heavily, Kiethara sat up in her hammock and put a hand to her forehead. Why did her dreams have to be so vivid? Every image, every color...they burned brilliantly in her memory. But what struck her in most were her father's words.

Reason. She finally had a reason.

Her subconscious had given her the answer she needed. Trinnia had died so the kingdoms would realize that they needed to be prepared. For all she knew, Gandador was already working Nikkoi to his own will. Redawn was the next on his list, she was sure.

And out of all the people to die, why not Trinnia? She was rich and well known, not to mention a salient and beautiful young girl. It was the perfect life to grab people's attention. Nothing hit you harder than the death of an innocent life that had represented incorruptibility; the death of the former emphasized the mortality of the latter.

A couple of days ago, those were not the words she would have chosen to describe Trinnia. Now, however, she was able to view her from a distant perspective. What was the worst that the girl had ever seen? The worse she had felt? Absolutely nothing compared to Kiethara.

What was the worst that Trinnia had ever done? Kiss the boy that she loved? Get threatened by Gandador in Nikkoi and act out of fear as anyone would? It seemed foolishly harmful now. How bad had she ever hurt someone physically? Maybe she had slapped someone in a haughty argument once, or stamped on someone's foot by accident during a dance. Again, compared to her, Trinnia had not committed any crimes.

Kiethara sighed. Yes, Trinnia had been an innocent young woman. Her actions had been as white and unstained as the gloves on her hands had been, her words as harmless as the light breeze that she received from the sea.

Kiethara pulled herself up from her hammock. Numbly, she trudged along to the center of the forest. She just...really wanted to talk to Aaron. She yearned for his comforting voice and strong words.

As soon as she realized just how much she craved it she kicked off into the air and sped off through the trees. The wind on her face felt very soothing and, as she focused on it, she could feel the details of her dream slowly fading away. She had wanted to describe it to Aaron, but all she could really remember was Gandador and the ruins of Redawn...

Kiethara landed on emerald grass. It was a nice day, no wind and few clouds. Navadar would not be delayed by the weather on his way home.

A light entered the clearing, but it was not as bright as she had expected. She turned to face him.

His figure was not as defined, his golden rays did not shine off of him the way they used to. Kiethara bit back her questions, though. She wanted other answers first.

"Good morning, Kiethara," Aaron greeted.

"Aaron," she nodded, plopping down onto the grass.

"Sleep well?" he asked. How did he do that?

Kiethara launched into the description of her dream. It wasn't too long of a speech—most of the details had eluded her by now. But Aaron listened intently. The atmosphere around him was serious.

"Yes," he commented when she had finished. His voice took on a far away tone. "No doubt that was his plan all along. According to what transpired, his run in with Trinnia in Nikkoi would have been enough for him to discern from her that she was a high profile resident of Redawn. I'm glad you thought of it yourself. This will certainly rouse Redawn, if not Nikkoi as well. He knows it is his time to strike."

"His time?" she snorted. "He already struck!"

"Not on you, Kiethara," he said. "He has other goals, maybe not as high as his goal to obtain the power here, but he has smaller goals that he also intends to fulfill. Once he has conquered here he will surely conquer there. His weapon of choice will be fear, which will be installed as soon as Navadar spreads the news."

"So that was his plan all along? To spread fear?"

"Kiethara, why else would he try to obtain the power of the forest if he wasn't planning on using it anywhere else? He will go after the kingdoms and he will do it well. No king would mobilize an entire army for one man, but that is essentially what they will need to bring him down. That is Gandador's plan. All along."

Kiethara frowned at the ground. The plot that Gandador had woven for himself was getting more and more complicated, more and more intimidating. She sighed.

"Well, what can Redawn do?" she asked desperately.

"Do? It isn't as though Gandador is going to march up and break down their wall. He will either force or convince someone of high standing to work for him. Slowly, he will corrupt them from the inside out. There is nothing—physically—that Redawn can do."

Kiethara stared up at Aaron in shock. His words were so cold, so brutal...It sounded as though he thought there was no hope at all!

"So what? I just let it unravel before me without doing a thing about it? Is that our plan?" she asked in disbelief.

"Of course not!" he said in a surprised tone. "What do you think you've been fighting for? Not only are you protecting the forest, but you are protecting the world outside it!

"Here's a prime example—the legend of Ishmane. His legend is far too complicated for me to get into detail with, but I will give you a short summary.

"There was a small band of thieves. Now, these men were extremely talented at magic, having gathering much of it. Even after Ishmane received the connection, he could not stop them from stealing the forest's fruit or making potions by its rivers. And he did not stop them. It was not his duty to stop the many people who came in and out of the forest. He could not feel their hearts, only their presences."

"Wait," she interrupted. "What do you mean by the many people who come in and out of the forest? Only a few do!"

"For one, it was different years before," Aaron sighed. "And for two, there are still many people who travel to the edges of the forest and take its magic. Your connection is still young, so you would need to focus hard to sense the outer fringes. Try it. Focus on expanding to the edge of the forest."

Kiethara, curious, closed her eyes and followed Aaron's instructions. She let her thoughts and focuses retreat to the far corner of her mind. There her connection lay, and she entered it like a tunnel. She had explored her connection, yes, but never to the extent that Aaron was asking of her. It felt aberrant, but after a moment, it felt as natural as thinking.

She focused hard and far, testing the limitations of her connection; however, there didn't seem to be any limitations. Kiethara smiled and wandered further.

Finally, on the very western edge of the forest, she felt something.

They were very faint. She gritted her teeth in the effort it took for her to focus on them; it was like trying to make out something very small that was very far away. If she focused intently, she could feel the faint pluck as they harvested the forest's fruit. A bit north, she could feel another large group surrounding the mouth of a river. She searched farther up the western coast, but other than those two groupings, there was nothing. She changed her focus to the eastern side.

There was even less there. There were a few lone presences higher north, farther into the forest than anyone else. One lone presence was directly to the east, and south of that, there was another large group plucking at fruit.

Kiethara's eyes snapped open in awe and surprise. She had always lived under the impression that she was alone in this massive forest. Now, however, she realized that even though the people were so very far away, she wasn't exactly alone.

"Yes, these days journeys to the forest are becoming rare. Gandador is right when he says that the dependency on this great powerhouse is waning."

Kiethara let out a deep breath. Trying to remain focused on those small, far presences was mentally exhausting. She relaxed, losing her focus on the connection until she could no longer feel the edges on the forest. Only the immediate area was very clear without any focus.

Aaron, like always, seemed to know what she was thinking.

"Practice with the gift the forest has bestowed you with. Soon you won't have to focus so hard to feel. You are just like Ishmane, Kiethara. You must continue to fight few in order to protect the masses. "

Kiethara nodded and stood up. She faced Aaron. For the first time in her memory she could stand only a few feet from him and not be blinded.

"Aaron..." she whispered, and unconsciously lifted her hand up as though to touch him.

There was no denying it. There was no casting the thought aside. His light—his strong, piercing light—was fainter. The solid gold now seemed like a timid, shimmering yellow.

"Why...?"

"This is not relevant, Kiethara," Aaron snapped. His voice trembled with power...and something else. "Now we will train. I will teach you how to use your connection..."

Aaron's words fell mute against the questions that were shouting in her head. Why was this happening? Why was Aaron avoiding the matter? Did he fear whatever truth he was hiding? Why did he always hide answers from her?

It looked as though she would never get a reason.

CHAPTER 46

### PEACEFUL

Kiethara followed Aaron's instructions despite the fact that she was frustrated with him. Aaron enjoyed keeping secrets—she could see that now. It worried her, though; the last secret Aaron had tried to keep had changed the way that she looked at her life forever.

His attitude, too, kept her wondering. Aaron was usually never anything but calm, but his increasingly annoyed demeanor was making her head spin. It was obvious what was happening to him. Why did he keep denying it?

As Kiethara thought out this new phenomenon, her stomach dropped. Could his power be...fading? He had already died, but was it possible for him to do it again? He was a spirit, but she did not know what that meant. She had never heard a story or a legend that could possibly describe to her what was happening to her mentor.

Could he be sick and ashamed to admit it? Aaron had never shown a weakness before, and maybe he was scared to show one now, in front of her. She knew that whatever the reason might be, she would never lose faith in him.

Still, the mystery bothered her. The unknown was almost as intimidating as what she did know, and Kiethara felt something forbidding creeping up behind her, but whether it was anticipation of another attack from her father or of something else, she could not tell.

Kiethara mused over all of this why she thrusted her sword in a left-handed stab. She no longer needed to learn any new techniques, but to practice them. As the blade glittered in the evening sun she marveled its beauty, how every crystal and diamond sparkled in its own, perfect way.

She had other things to worry about besides Aaron, anyway.

As she had been following Aaron's orders, she realized that one of the presences she had felt yesterday was not turning back. It was deep in the forest, although not too deep to be a worry to her yet. In order to sense the presence, she still had to strain her mind to its limits and she could only hold on to it for a maximum of ten minutes at a time.

Disappointedly, Kiethara knew it could not be Navadar. It was far too early for it to be him; he might not even be at Redawn yet. Also, this person was too bright to be Navadar. To her, his presence was almost invisible due to his lack of magic. He had to be within a certain distance of her for her to even register that he was near. The person coming now had magic.

She also knew it could not be Gandador. For one, Gandador would not waste his time strutting through the forest. If he wanted to, he would appear directly in her clearing and smack her clean across it. No, this presence had less magic than Gandador or even Sinsenta.

So where did this leave her? Kiethara had never been able to anticipate an unexpected arrival before. This person was not a friend, but not strong enough to be considered a threat. Only someone with Gandador's amount of power could be considered one and she had defeated him the last time he had decided to come and play a visit.

Defeated, not killed.

Kiethara kicked forcibly at the air in front of her and brought her sword down in a right-to-left strike, entwining her physical combat with her sword training. She rolled through the grass and then kicked off the ground. Halfway flying, halfway falling, she took the sword in both hands and pointed it down, pretending she was bringing it down on someone's skull. Finishing the move with a graceful land on the balls of her feet, she grinned. No one was getting past her.

Kiethara straightened up, sheathing her sword with a sigh and looking over at the setting sun. It hung low, the beautiful shades of orange falling below the tree tops.

She climbed into her hammock with a yawn. She was too tired to worry about anything now: not her guest, not her father, and not her mentor. The only thing she really needed to worry about was what crazy dream she was in store for tonight.

With that, she closed her eyes and fell asleep...

_So you don't even have a plan?_ the voice asked.

Kiethara was lying in her mother's meadow. At least, that's where she thought she was. The flowers towered above her, some of them as tall as trees. The ground beneath her rocked as though she was in water.

_What exactly are you referring to?_ Kiethara asked.

_Why don't we start with this guest of yours,_ Tinya said. _Don't you think you should be a little more prepared?_

Kiethara sighed. Tinya never gave it a rest. _How? I don't even know who it is._

Are you sure? What if it's Durga or Markii?

Kiethara pursed her lips. She hadn't even considered them. They visited the forest so rarely, and she had only met Markii once...

_I'm not sure Markii has any magic,_ she thought.

But you don't know that.

Kiethara sighed. She did not need some dead kid lecturing her on her decisions. Her plan was to attack if necessary. Was it really so complicated?

Fine, then, leave it at that. Goodness forbids you're prepared for once in your life.

Kiethara could practically hear the voice roll her eyes.

_But you said to start with,_ Kiethara reminded her. _What else?_

Your father, of course. What do you plan to do about him?

Kiethara was quiet for a moment. _What do you mean?_

You know what I mean.

_I'm going to defeat him,_ she thought simply.

The voice snorted. _How? Are you going to scold him for his wrong doings and send him on his way? You have to kill him!_

I know that.

_Do you?_ Tinya asked. _Do you really have a plan? How are you going to kill him?_

Kiethara had no answer.

How was she going to kill him?

### ***

Kiethara stifled a yawn when she woke up. She remembered only a few pieces from her dream last night, none of them putting her in a very positive mood. For some reason, her hazy recollections made her annoyed, but for the life of her, she could not tell why.

Kiethara closed her eyes again, but this time it was not to go to sleep. She allowed her connection to expand to all corners of the forest until she found what she was looking for.

It was not hard to find, now that it no longer was at the edge of the forest. The lone presence was much closer now, and it was moving, too. If it kept its pace, it would be here by the afternoon.

Kiethara got up and looked around, confused. What should she do? Go out and meet whoever was coming? She did not like the idea of meeting this strange person in an unfamiliar part of the forest.

She had never been able to anticipate someone like this before. Now that she did, she did not quite know what to do with herself.

Puzzled, she stumbled to the lake. A quick bath couldn't do her any harm. Who knows, maybe a clean face would add to the intimidation she was hoping to inspire.

Nude besides for her crystals, she floated on the surface of the cool, crisp water. Every few minutes she checked on her connection again, witnessing the presence make slow but steady progress.

What she needed was a plan. One that showed her strength, her power, and her cleverness. One that would make her intruder shake in their boots and think twice before coming to the forest again.

First, she should become invisible. She could judge the direction the presence was coming in with her connection and hide herself in a tree.

She should have her sword out—an open potion bottle no longer seemed intimidating to her. She laughed in the water at the memory of her now seemingly childish actions when she had first met her father.

From there, everything depended on her visitor's reaction.

Kiethara pulled herself out of the water and dressed herself. She ran her fingers through her hair again and again until it was ruler straight and no longer dripping. For some reason, the idea that someone else was in the forest besides her was making her very uncomfortable. She wished she had this sort of time to prepare for Navadar's visits.

Hours later, Kiethara found herself crouched upon the branch of an oak, taking low, deep breaths. Her sword was also resting on the branch, positioned so it could not be seen from anyone beneath her. Her potions were placed under her white dress, but they were reserved for emergencies only.

In her head, she no longer needed to stretch her connection in order to sense the presence. It was close, perhaps less than a minute away.

In her chest, her heart fluttered. It was foolish, really. She had known this was going to happen for quite some time. She had no reason to feel any kind fear. It made no sense at all.

Finally, she spotted the intruder.

It was not what she had been expecting.

It was...a girl. A girl her age. A girl her age, in the forest, alone. Kiethara had not spent much time in the kingdoms, but she knew that women did not have many privileges. They were considered weak, nothing more than child-bearing animals that men led around by the nose. They certainly were not allowed to run around on little adventures by themselves.

As Kiethara watched her come closer, however, she did not think this girl was normal.

She had strange hair, for one. It came down to her chin with a blunt edge, bobbing with her every step. It was brown, but it shone with...red? It also had numerous blond streaks throughout it, as though it had been dyed by a rainbow. From her vantage point, that was all Kiethara could see.

Kiethara jumped.

She turned visible during her fall, using her ability to fly to make her landing softer. Her sword flashed up, its lethal tip just an inch from the girl's neck.

Again, Kiethara was shocked. At first, the girl's hazel eyes widened, but a second later her full lips spread into an exuberant smile.

Kiethara frowned as she stared at the girl. A tunic—yellow—fitted her frame, covered slightly by a brown traveling cloak, much like the olive green robe Kiethara had left in her clearing. She wore brown leggings underneath, tucked into boots. Kiethara saw the flash of a dagger tied to her thigh. A bag was strapped over her chest and to the side, covered with a multitude of beads and feathers. A necklace hung from her neck, made of similar materials.

The girl's appearance screamed _eccentric_.

Kiethara cocked her head slightly as she continued to stare at the girl.

"I come peacefully," the girl said, raising her hands. Somehow, her voice was bubbling with excitement.

Excitement?

"Who are you?" Kiethara asked.

"Camella."

"What is your purpose here?" Kiethara demanded. She had never tried to be so serious before. It did not look like she was installing any fear.

"To meet you," Camella said. "To meet the guardian."

The girl curtsied and looked up at Kiethara with a mixture of emotions. Only one of them was potent: respect.

Kiethara lowered her sword and took a step back, pursing her lips. "Why?"

"Why?" Camella laughed, spinning around. Kiethara blinked in surprise. "Don't you feel the air? Don't you see the grass? Who wouldn't want to see the beauty that throbs through every petal here?

"And who wouldn't want to meet the noble being in charge of protecting this miracle? I yearned to do so and I finally have. I couldn't be happier!

"Miss Kiethara, I come here peacefully and in the hope of friendship! I will do anything to gain your trust!"

Kiethara bit back a laugh. Camella reminded her of an ecstatic puppy, which in turn reminded her of Sinsenta. Was this how he had acted when he had first met Gandador?

Kiethara sheathed her sword and crossed her arms. A small smile slipped through her carefully composed mask.

"How do you know my name?" Kiethara asked.

"From my grandfather, Odarick. I believe you have already met him," Camella said.

Kiethara gasped. Images and memories from Redawn flooded her mind.

"Odarick," she breathed.

"Yes," Camella said with a broad grin. "Grandfather sent me with a message for you!"

"Really?"

"Yes, he told me to tell you ' _hope_.'"

"Hope?" Kiethara asked.

"He said you would understand," Camella said. She sounded confused as well.

Kiethara nodded, remembering. _Hope_. So much had happened since that conversation. It seemed so long ago. Truthfully, the old man had been pushed to the back of her mind, but now he had sent his granddaughter here to preach the same message.

How odd.

Despite the oddity, Kiethara's features broke into a warm smile.

"Why don't I show you around?" she asked.

The smile that broke out on Camella's face looked like it would burst her round cheeks.

"That would be lovely!"

Kiethara nodded to the west. "I'll start with my clearing."

They walked together in silence for a moment, Kiethara surprised at how happy she felt. Ever since Trinnia's death, her thoughts had been morose, her dreams intense. Camella's brightness was almost unreal.

It would be nice to have a friend.

At Kiethara's step, white roses blossomed from where her feet touched. Camella stared in awe, triggering a blush across her pale face.

"It really is amazing here!" Camella exclaimed, throwing her arms up. Kiethara found herself laughing.

"It's home," she said simply.

"That's such a nice word for it," Camella sighed. " _Home_. It's so...warm."

"Yes," Kiethara agreed. "It can be peaceful."

"Not exactly quiet," Camella pointed out. They paused for a minute, listening to the animals.

"It gets creepy when it's quiet," Kiethara whispered. The two girls giggled.

After a few more minutes of comfortable silence, they reached her clearing. For the first time, Kiethara tried to see it through the view point of an outsider. It was so plain. Grass swaying in the breeze, with only two trees standing in the middle. Between them, her hammock lay, white and frayed. A wild flower could be seen here or there.

Camella, however, squealed in delight. She practically danced forward into the clearing.

"This is where you sleep?" she verified, running her hand over the hammock.

"Yes," Kiethara admitted.

"It's wonderful!" she sighed. "It must be so peaceful, rocking under the stars."

Peaceful. Camella liked that word. Or yearned for it, by the tone of her voice.

"Oh, yes, it definitely has its perks. Better than sleeping in a tree."

"Really?" Camella asked, as though that surprised her.

"Sleeping in a tree is not as comfortable as you might think."

"What do you do in the winter?" Camella asked, crossing her arms and shivering at the thought.

"Freeze," Kiethara said with a laugh. "This winter wasn't bad at all, though."

"It snowed," she said in disbelief.

"Um, yes," Kiethara agreed, unsure how to respond.

Camella just stared at her.

"I had fire, too," Kiethara defended herself. She let one of her hands burst into flames.

Camella let out a delighted gasp at the display. "Your power is beautiful!"

Kiethara blushed, flattered. Camella's view of her was much too high; it was ridiculous. Aaron was the kind of person she should be directing all of this reverence to.

"Thank you," Kiethara said softly, staring at her enflamed hand. Gandador had become an enemy because her mother had shared too much. What could she share with Camella? What was too dangerous?

She trusted Navadar. Conversations with him were simple; secrets no longer applied. Conversation with Camella was nice, but Kiethara had not been in this position for a while. She wished Navadar was with her. She remembered the first time he had come here, how she had foolishly told him everything...

Camella was perceptive.

"What's that look on your face?" she asked with a playful grin. Her eyes narrowed in concentration.

Kiethara tried to bite back a bashful smile, but it played on her lips.

Camella let out a delighted gasp and clapped her hands. "You're in love!"

Kiethara's eyes widened. Yes, she was sure she was in love with Navadar. She had never really declared it like that, though. Camella stated it factually, as though nothing had ever been so definite.

"How can you tell?" Kiethara asked, shocked. There was only one other person who had ever read her face so easily: Gandador.

Camella giggled, but then she sighed. The sound sounded so wistful that Kiethara felt an unfamiliar pang that wasn't her own.

"Love isn't subtle," she explained. "For one, I call your powers beautiful, and you look off dreamily into the distance. Now, I know you weren't dreaming about me! No, but I've heard of it countless times and seen it a dozen more. Recognizing it is second nature to me now."

There was an undercurrent to her tone that Kiethara did not understand. There were some defined emotions, but the rest of them were so mixed that she had a hard time telling the difference. How could Camella make her out so easy while Kiethara couldn't even read her face?

"You're a lucky girl," Camella whispered.

Kiethara finally understood.

"Don't look so disappointed!" Kiethara chided with an understanding smile. "Love isn't as blissful as they make it out to be. It certainly isn't easy. Trust me, I know from experience."

"I'm up for the challenge," she said earnestly.

"Listen," Kiethara said. "I don't have any stories or life experiences that will be of any use to you, considering all of it revolves around my position here. But I made the mistake of loving blindly. Passionately, yes, but blindly. It wasn't until after the delicious poison entered my heart—the prick of love, if you will—did I become known to his flaws, motives, and...friends." The word dropped strangely from her lips. "The point I'm trying to make here is have caution. Be wary before you allow him to grab hold and mangle your heart."

Camella stared at her. "Your words say you don't love him dearly, but your eyes do."

"We've had...some troubled times," she admitted. "I'm not saying that your experience will be anything like mine. Actually, it will probably be very different. You must remember that I am a guardian and that my responsibilities come before anything else. I have to look at things from a precautious position. My life, his life...The forest holds me stronger than he does, I'm sorry to say."

"Then how did you meet?" Camella asked, confused. "How did you fall in love?"

"He came like you, alone and seeking adventure. We met, and he kept coming back to visit...I enjoyed his company; I found someone who was willing to accept me for everything I am. He knows almost everything: every fault, every trial I have gone through. He knows it all, he knows what the forest is to me, and he doesn't care. He's so brave, too...I love him for accepting me. And somehow, he found it in his heart to love me back."

Kiethara did not know where the words had come from, but she knew them to be true.

"That sounds better than what you said before!" Camella accused.

"It's complicated," Kiethara sighed.

"I don't know," Camella disagreed. "Love sounds pretty peaceful to me."

Kiethara thought for a moment of the fights, of the loss, and of the pain that had followed her and Navadar. She recalled running through the kingdoms, torn apart because of him; she recalled him tackling her out of the way of the burning tree; she remembered the kiss that had changed everything, the kiss that had been interrupted by her worst enemy...

No, she could not agree with Camella.

Love was far from peaceful.

CHAPTER 47

### ILLUSION

The days soon melted into weeks. Camella left the next day; the two of them had slept side by side in the grass, talking well into the night. Unlike Navadar, Camella did not travel during the night if she could help it. In fact, she was terrified of the dark. Kiethara had not minded her staying in the slightest. It had been so... _nice_. Relaxing, actually. It wasn't like talking to Aaron, who had a lesson between each sentence. It certainly wasn't like conversing with Navadar, where every word made her feel self-conscious. It had been easy and true.

Kiethara found herself wandering about, weaving in and out of the trees. It reminded her of the days before her world had been turned upside down. Hours of quiet musing and random acts to break up the day. Bathing twice a day. Using her magic for fun and games instead of training and battle.

But Kiethara also remembered how dull those days had been. If her life had not spiraled out of control, she would have probably wasted away from boredom a long time ago. She smiled grimly to herself.

She had already talked to Aaron and he was more opposed to Camella than he had been to Navadar, for some unfathomable reason.

"You cannot just welcome in every single person who ventures in here, Kiethara!" he had said. "Anybody can be working for Gandador, even innocent little girls!"

"I was right about Navadar, wasn't I?" she pointed out.

"Considering the number of times you have attacked him, I would say not."

"Aaron!"

"Does Camella know about Gandador? About you being his daughter?" he had asked, switching tactics on her.

"No, but—"

"So don't consider her one of your friends until you find out everything about her and, once you have, if she checks out all right, make sure she knows about your position, too."

And that had been the end of that discussion.

Camella, though, was soon pushed to the back of her thoughts. A more pressing matter was Navadar. She was still anxiously awaiting his return. He had promised that he would come back as soon as he could—a promise she knew he would not be able to keep very well—but other thoughts began to creep into her mind. Was he hurt? Dead? If he was, how would she ever find out?

Or what if, on his trip back, he had realized that he really should be furious with her? What if he suddenly decided he never wanted to see her again, not even for a goodbye visit to let her know his decision? Could he really leave her like that, desperately waiting for a visit that would never come?

Kiethara shook her head. She was only blowing things out of proportion. Trinnia died and all she was worried about was the next time she would see him.

Trinnia's death continued to bother her. Her dreams were blood baths—she could no longer walk into her mother's meadow. Aaron had been sympathetic, but he had also told her that it would not be a bad thing to pay Trinnia some respect.

But she had not been able to do it. She had tried, but something in the back of her mind showed her Trinnia's mangled corpse, screaming at her to sprint in the opposite direction anytime she got near the place.

She should be able to do it! What will she tell Navadar if he asks? Sorry, I was too scared to place a flower where she's buried....

She could do that, couldn't she? Just place a flower upon her grave. Just one flower. Kiethara focused on the ground at her feet. A single white rose grew, although it looked a little limp.

As she bent down to pick it up, the connection in her head exploded with activity.

A presence—strong, full of magic—had appeared in her head. It was equally as powerful as the man Gandador had brought with him, Tryke. Kiethara's stomach dropped; whoever it was, it was an enemy. It could even be Gandador, if he had lost some magic.

A small hiss escaped her lips. _Now?_ So soon?! Her father's visits usually spanned months, not weeks. And here he was, or possibly Sinsenta, in her clearing! It was only by fate she wasn't there now!

Kiethara took a deep breath. And then gasped.

Now that she was focused on her connection she realized that there was a second presence inside the forest. It was so faint she could barely feel it: this person had no magic.

And the second presence was only ten yards away.

_Navadar?_ NOW?! It felt just like him. Cursing, Kiethara tied her hair back quickly with a blade of grass and unsheathed her sword, pressing her back up against the nearest tree. It went against instinct to turn her back to the stronger opponent, but the weaker one was closer.

The first thought that crossed her mind as the figure broke through the trees was that it was not Navadar. The relief was strong, but it was soon overshadowed by other emotions.

It was Markii.

She had only met him once, but it seemed that his stolid persona had not changed in the slightest degree. His face held no emotion—the only thing she could glean from his intense gray eyes was observance. Even though he was not aware of the danger yet, his body was already tense and his sword had already been drawn.

He paused when he saw her. His expression did not change, but his intense eyes probed her. He lowered his sword a fraction of an inch, as though to tell her that he meant her no harm.

Kiethara nodded to the north, put a finger on her lips, and lifted her sword in response. Her tense body language and the fact that she had pressed herself flat against the bark should tell him something, at least.

He caught on quickly. He hurried over to her—amazing really, how quiet he could walk—and took a place besides hers. For a moment they quietly breathed in harmony, listening to the sounds around them. Kiethara turned to Markii.

"One man is in my clearing to the north. He is powerful, but that's all I can tell from here. You should go—"

"No."

He didn't say it like Navadar. It was blunt, uncaring, and the small word held no fear. She had no weakness to play on him. Actually, he unnerved her.

Kiethara frowned. Markii had no magic of his own. The only weapons he seemed to possess were his sword and his stealth, but that could only take you so far in the dangerous game she played; however, the idea of Markii's intimidating strength on her side was rather tempting. Frankly, she could use the help he was offering.

So Kiethara nodded to Markii's blunt answer. "I have a plan, if you would be so willing."

Markii nodded, his probing eyes becoming even more intense.

"This man will be looking for me. It might confuse him, or at least throw him off his guard, if he spotted you first. I'll follow you from above, in the trees, and I want you to walk directly into my clearing. Once my guest is sufficiently distracted, I'll jump in from behind."

Markii silently nodded his approval.

"They'll be able to use magic," she warned him.

"Don't worry about me," he said in a low voice.

Kiethara inclined her head to the north. "Just go as straight as you can until you reach the clearing. It will have a hammock in it. Expect the man hovering along the trees on the western edge."

It was difficult to focus on speech and her connection at the same time, but not impossible. The presence was pacing by the perimeter, waiting.

Markii started walking to the north. His abrupt confidence and lack of fear left her frozen for a long moment before she could kick off into the tree tops. She could not decide if his type of courage could be considered as arrogance or not. It certainly wasn't anything she was used to...

Kiethara did not know him at all. The meeting they had had before this had revealed little, and this one was traveling along the same path. He was a complete mystery and now she had to fight alongside him.

Using her flight and adept skills at navigating her way through branches, Kiethara made quick progress in the trees. She made sure she could see Markii below her at all times. He walked through the forest with a purposeful stride. It was the swagger of the invincible.

Kiethara frowned. It almost seemed as if her authority and power in the forest were being challenged.

She shook her head, disgusted. This was the last thing she should be thinking about. Her wounded pride could be nursed after she faced what lay ahead. The forest was in danger. She needed to focus on the fact that it could be her father in her clearing. She could not be taken by surprise, not even if he held Trinnia's decaying body in his arms. She needed to focus. It was time to rid the world of the horrible man that threatened it, as Aaron had told her.

A small part of her mind wished that it would be Markii who would do it for her. She hated her father enough to want him dead, but to physically kill him herself was another matter entirely.

Finally, the trees began to thin as her clearing got closer and closer. The assailant was still pacing to the west. Silently, Kiethara slipped down the branches and hung off the lowest branch, so her face was a foot from Markii's.

"I'll circle around. He's fifteen paces to the northwest," she whispered. He nodded, showing no signs of surprise at her sudden appearance. His intense expression had not changed in the slightest.

With a pounding heart, she pulled herself back up into the trees and circled her clearing by a half. Adrenaline heightened her awareness.

Kiethara peered through the leaves to catch sight of her intruder.

She didn't know whether to feel relieved or not. It wasn't Gandador, or anybody else she had seen before. The air around him was so thick it was as though it was made of smoke. Whoever he was, she could tell he was not here on a friendly visit.

His expression portrayed the same message. It was dark; his bushy eyebrows pulled together in scrutiny. His lips were set in a small frown, though they looked as if they would slip into a scowl at any moment. His hair was dark brown, shortly cropped, and on his chin was a goatee that came to a fine point.

His clothes were...strange. His torso was clothed in a purple silk, while his legs were sheathed in black leather. A smoky gray cloak hung on his shoulders, while the inside lined was with a pungent yellow. She had never laid eyes on such an eccentric combination of colors and materials, not even with Camella.

Kiethara's stomach flipped uneasily, for something about this man did not seem right. Clenching her sword, she waited for Markii to play his part.

From her vantage point, Kiethara could only see the man, not Markii. But she heard him clear his throat.

The man turned sharply in his direction. He appraised Markii for a long moment—Kiethara could only imagine what he saw. An emotionless warrior, sword drawn and expression intense.

"Who are you?" the man snapped. He sounded arrogant and annoyed.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," Markii said. His tone of voice sounded almost bored.

"I am Swallin, son of Ilnock!" he announced proudly, sneering at Markii. "And you?"

Kiethara held her breath as she shifted her position slightly. She needed Swallin to be talking. He had to be sufficiently distracted for his reaction time to be hindered, especially if she were to say, land on top of him.

"Why are you here?" Markii asked, ignoring his question.

Swallin cocked his head. "Bold move there, boy. I think I'm going to have to teach you some respect. See, when I ask—"

Kiethara landed with a muted thud behind Swallin. The tip of her sword flashed up to his neck.

"Now, I believe you are the one who needs to learn some respect," she said in a fierce tone.

"Ah," Swallin said with a smile. "Just the person I was looking for. It's nice of you to join us."

"Did Gandador send you?" she snapped. She was already tired of the snotty tone of his voice.

"Yes, and with a message, actually," he said, eyeing Markii as he stalked forward with a raised sword. "He told me to tell you ' _evol_.'"

As though she needed reminding. The message behind the word was clear. Trinnia was dead because of her and she was here because of her mother.

"Why didn't he come himself?" she asked.

"He's occupied at the moment, but once your tied down and gagged, I'm sure he'll stop by."

Kiethara snorted. "Oh, really?"

An unnerving smile spread across his face, shooting ice through her veins.

Something in the corner of her eye caught her attention. A dark figure could be seen suddenly between the trees, and, as it walked forward, somehow the colors slowly became visible...Kiethara stared at it, bewildered. It finally stepped out from the shadows.

It was Navadar.

Navadar?

It couldn't be.

Navadar walked forward without a word. His features were twisted in a mask of shock, although his body language did not portray that he felt any fear. There was too much innocence in his eyes.

A small part of her mind, though, reasoned that it couldn't be Navadar. The color of his hair was wrong, the blond a bit too dark. He was taller than normal, making his torso leaner in length. The clothes he wore were a deep, smoky gray.

Every time she tried to focus on the details, his form became slightly distorted. It was like trying to stare at her reflection in the water when it kept rippling from a disturbance. Her eyes kept unfocusing.

While Navadar walked forward, Swallin took advantage of her distraction. As Markii let out a noise of warning, her sword was knocked out of her hand. Time seemed to slow—to thicken—as she watched in horror as the gleaming blade landed in the grass. A boot was then landed in her stomach.

Things sped up again as she flew back. As she soared through the air, her eyes widened as Navadar smoldered into a gray shape and then faded out into thin air.

Kiethara let out a gasp as her back made contact with a tree trunk. The sight that she had just witnessed still burned into her eyes. Navadar had not been real. It had been an illusion. It had been magic.

Was that possible?! She was going to have a serious talk with Aaron after this. The time of being left in the dark for protection or some other nonsense was over. She needed to be able to expect things like this.

The sounds of metal striking metal filled her clearing. Swallin had pulled a two foot dagger from his robe and now he and Markii were returning vicious swipes and stabs.

Kiethara rolled to her feet, grabbing her sword in the process. She leapt into the air, posing her sword so it would split his skull.

Swallin, however, was quick with a blade. His moves were jerky and fast, almost unnatural.

Kiethara parried his block with her sword and then countered it with a blast of fire. It missed by mere inches as he jerked out of the way, the heat singing his strange fabrics.

The fighting intensified until pure instinct bled into her thoughts and wiped everything else clean. She worked with Markii in a way she had never imagined. Their techniques were different, but for where one of them lacked, the other picked up.

Swallin took his dagger—now enflamed like Kiethara's sword—in a two-handed strike. Before it could come down on her, Markii's blade intercepted it. While he used his strength to hold Swallin there, she swiftly rolled over Markii's back and stabbed Swallin on the other side.

This time, she caught flesh. Swallin howled like a dog as he retreated, clutching his side as the blood stained the purple silk.

"Your father was right!" Swallin hissed, holding his hand to the flesh wound. He retreated several more feet, allowing Markii and her respite. "You're a devious brat with a power you don't deserve!"

Kiethara snorted. She had heard this before. "Let me guess—he sent you here under the orders to capture me, not kill me, although you are allowed to rouse my emotions as best you can and injury me in anyway. Oh, and he probably told you not to harm the forest. Any of this sounding familiar?"

Swallin stared at her for a moment before spitting on the ground. "It is obvious that this has gone on for too long."

"Couldn't agree more."

"Good," he said with a smile that sent chills down her spine. "Let's end this, shall we?"

Kiethara was expecting his next move and so, it seemed, did Markii. They split up and sprinted in opposite directions.

Swallin had disappeared and then reappeared right where they had been just seconds before. Kiethara looked back as she broke through the first of the trees to see Swallin strutting in her direction.

Heart pounding, Kiethara kicked off the springy soil and into the sky. Rising above the trees gave her an opportunity to take a deep breath. She needed to wrap her head around some things.

Illusions. What branch of twisted magic was _that?_ The image of Navadar still haunted her thoughts. Of course, Gandador had told all of his little followers about her personal life. There was no reason for him not to. What would Swallin show her next? Her mother?

Something else to consider: if he could make illusions, he could probably fly as well. Here in the sky, with no cover, was not the ideal place to wait for an enemy to find her. On top of that, she needed to find Markii. The last thing she wanted was for him to fight that man alone, but the only problem was that she could not sense him with her connection. He needed to be very close, or she needed to focus harder, something she could not afford to do when Swallin could attack her at any moment.

Kiethara ducked back down into the trees and landed on the ground with a muted thud. She froze, crouched low, and listened to the sounds around her. The birds still cawed around her, letting her know there was nothing to fear.

She focused briefly on her connection. Swallin was to the northwest, but he was at least half a mile away. Why would he be so far? Was Markii there?

Kiethara picked up her stride, trying to make as little noise as possible. Markii seemed invulnerable, but the fact that she could not sense him very well made her uneasy. He was like a blade of grass among the thousands; not distinguished by magic as Gandador was.

"Kiethara."

Kiethara turned in time to see Markii melt out of the shadows. She gasped when she saw his expression.

He was smiling!

No, he was _leering_.

He advanced towards her; every step forward for him was every step backwards for her until her back was pressed up against a tree. She stared up at him in shock.

This wasn't Markii! It couldn't be! The emotions on his face made him almost unrecognizable. His gray eyes had a light she had never thought them possible of.

"Markii?" she asked.

"Mmm," he murmured. He walked closer until their bodies were only an inch apart.

She pressed herself even closer to the tree. "We have to go take care of Swallin..."

"I dealt with him," Markii whispered, placing his arm on the bark above her and leaning forward. He stared at her so...openly. Kiethara's fist balled up and navy blue eyes sparked at the outrageous gesture.

Somewhere in her head, her connection nudged her slightly. Focusing on it, the first thing she felt was Swallin, only a quarter mile away. The next thing she felt was a very faint presence only a few feet away.

The third thing she felt was realization.

A blade suddenly flashed as it ran its way through the image of Markii before her. The figure turned gray and then sizzled into the air.

The sickly haze cleared to reveal the real Markii. His expression was still blank, his eyes still intense. The only difference was a slight rigidity to his composure now.

Anger and embarrassment suddenly consumed her. Her hands burst into flames and she struck the tree next to her, setting it on fire.

"I can't believe I fell for that!" she hissed.

"He did the same to me," he told her.

Kiethara imagined an image of her seducing Markii...and shuddered. "Wonderful."

The tree next to her creaked as the connection in her head prickled uncomfortably. She let out a breath through her nose and then put out the blaze.

"He's playing with us," he said.

That he was. These off-handed tactics were nothing like the methods Gandador used. Swallin was dangerous, but there was something about him, a slight immaturity, that kept her from choking up in fear. He was like a child having too much fun. She could tell that besides for illusions, he was not good at any other type of magic. She had only seen him disappear and reappear—a conversation she still had to have with Aaron—and work a little fire. Besides his ability with a blade, he had nothing else.

"He's weak from his wound," she said. "He is too scared to face the two of us alone. He thought he could pick me off using his illusions. Gandador doesn't know you, so they hadn't been able to factor you in. His plan is ruined."

Markii nodded. "This will be simple if we don't split up."

"Let's hope so," she sighed. She paused to focus on her connection and then she pointed to the north.

Together, they lurked towards Swallin like a pair of predators tracking their prey. This time she did not draw her sword; her powers would be her weapon of choice, now that she knew that she was more advanced against him in that aspect. They would play as a sharper sword. She considered briefly about turning invisible, but that wouldn't help Markii.

Kiethara slowed and Markii followed suit. Together, they peered through the trees.

Swallin was swearing. He was bare-chested, for he was using the remainder of his shirt to address his wound. He was pulling it tight around his abdomen, and each tug brought on even louder swears.

Kiethara stepped forward with bated breath. All she had to do was—

Behind her, Markii snapped a twig.

She couldn't justify being angry with him. It wasn't as though he was used to traveling in the forest. Still, she felt a prick of annoyance when Swallin's head snapped up, ruining her plan.

Kiethara rolled to the side, dodging his blade by a good couple of feet. Her partner was not as lucky, though. She turned just in time to see him jerk his forearm away, which was now adorned with a shallow cut. It quickly turned red with blood.

Kiethara pulled herself to her feet. At the same time, vines began climbing their way up Swallin's leg. Praying Markii was taking advantage of her distraction, she lunged forward.

With amazing flexibility and dexterity he bended himself backwards in a way that was almost gruesome. Her vines had not had enough time to climb high enough to prohibit movement of his torso and he was quick to take the benefit.

As Kiethara landed in the grass, his hand shot out. Before she could even comprehend what was happening, he had removed the small glass bottle filled with her blessed, silver liquid.

She gasped and spun to face him, but he had already kicked free of the vines and ripped his makeshift wrap off.

She wasted no time in tackling him, but half of the potion still made it onto his wound.

The sudden lack of open wound seemed to give Swallin a fresh wave of strength. He brought his knee up into her stomach, knocking the breath out of her. She rolled off of him, gasping, and he jumped to his feet.

A golden sphere flew up around her just in time. Swallin's blow was blocked, saving her from what would have been many broken ribs.

Markii sprang forward and landed a punch on Swallin's cheek. He stumbled back, spitting out blood and teeth. Kiethara was relieved to see Markii had wrapped his wound with part of his shirt.

"Are you all right?" she asked when she was on her feet. She allowed her shield to disappear. He nodded.

"Well, well," a voice from behind her drawled.

Kiethara felt ice run through her entire body, a fear so painful it almost made her heart stop. The voice was horribly familiar. She turned in horror.

Gandador slipped out of the trees with his usual smirk adorning his features.

"Illusion," Markii whispered. He had not even bothered to turn around.

Kiethara mashed her teeth together in frustration. She had had enough of this. Her crystals glowed bright and she allowed her anger to surge inside her...

With a cry, she spun around with her arms outstretched, palms forward. Massive orange flames blasted from her in a pillar of fire, whipping through the air with one wave of ferocious heat and swiped Swallin to the ground.

He cried out in such agony that Kiethara wanted to claw her own ears out. He dropped to the floor burning, thrashing wildly...

Only then did Kiethara realize that she would have to kill this man. This man who had come here with a plan that had been thwarted by help she had not anticipated...This man who was as new to the forest as Markii was. Truthfully, this man had never stood a chance. Gandador had barely gotten away last time.

Gandador was getting desperate.

Desperate for power, desperate for magic...this pitiful attempt at an attack proved just how far he was reaching. How long would it take for him to realize his plans were futile?

Markii walked forward, up to the screaming, thrashing body that was Swallin. Kiethara was still frozen in the horror of the image of the burning man before her. She could not move.

Markii raised his sword. It flashed down just as Kiethara closed her eyes. Swallin's screams finally cut off.

It ended as quickly as it started.

CHAPTER 48

### RESPONSIBILITY

Kiethara leaned against the nearest tree, breathing heavily. Her entire torso throbbed, along with her head. A wave of exhaustion washed over her.

She refused to look in Markii's direction. She did not want to see the body that lied at his feet. A burnt smell filled her nostrils, making her stomach churn. It was all she could do to keep from retching on the forest floor.

She heard Markii's footsteps. He paused a foot away from her. She refused to look up at him, preferring instead to stare at his boots, partly because she feared glancing at the dead body if she moved her eyes, partly because she did not want him to see her pale features. She was supposed to be stronger than him.

"How hurt are you?" he suddenly asked.

Reflexively, she looked up. There was no change in his features, which, surprisingly, was slightly mollifying. At least he did not care if she was weak.

"Fine," she managed.

Markii scrutinized her. "Anything broken?"

"No, only bruised," she reassured him. They were already beginning to show. "And you?"

Markii shook his head. "The cut was too shallow to do any real damage."

Kiethara looked at him doubtfully. She knew that she felt horrible, so shouldn't he? It had been a grueling fight regardless of its outcome and, even though he seemed to be more stone than man, she felt the urge to please him. "I still think you should drink something. I can show you to my lake..."

"Later," he said. "I need to take care of this body."

Kiethara's stomach rolled again at the thought. She could not imagine glancing at it without being sick, let alone "taking care of it." She took a deep breath. "Should we bury it, or...?"

" _I_ will take care of it," he repeated with emphasis. "You need a drink more than I do. Go rest; I'll handle it."

Kiethara was far too tired to feel any wounded pride at his blunt words. And for some reason, she did not mind taking orders from Markii. There was no faster way to bring two people together than a battle for their lives and, now that she knew who he was, she did not think he talked in any other way. His orders came out uncaring, but she could feel that the intention behind them was concern.

"I'll meet you back in the clearing with the hammock," she said.

She did not wait for a response. Maybe she was being rude, for he had just saved her—in more ways than one—but a new impetus drove her. She blasted off the ground with all the force she could muster and flew at a speed that would humble even Gandador. She used her connection to guide her, deciding to fly with her eyes closed. The cool wind on her face eased the rocking of her stomach.

Finally, she reached the center of the forest.

"Aaron!" she cried, her voice shrill and demanding.

A light filled the clearing, but she was once again derailed by how dull it was. Only as bright as the light of the sun that came muffled from a cloud.

She pushed the thought from her mind. She could not deal with Aaron's anger and have a conversation with him.

"Kiethara," he said as he appeared. She stifled a gasp. He was light enough that she could make out the shapes of the trees behind him. Once again, she had to push her burning curiosity to the back of her mind.

"Explain. Now."

"His name is Swallin, as he told you. He uses—or used—magic in ways that Gandador has not even begun to touch."

"Those illusions...what are they?"

"It is a manipulation of darker magic that even I had never heard off. Swallin discovered it by accident himself. He had a hard past; a dead father and a mother who expected too much from him. His mother was just as arrogant and immature as he was, and when she died too...Swallin snapped. He hated his mother, but he couldn't face himself to deal with her absence. He tried to use his powers to bring her back, and that's what led to the illusions. He went years thinking the image he had created of his mother was actually her."

Kiethara didn't bother asking him how he knew all this. "How does it work, though? What emotion triggers that?"

"Malice, bitterness. Mix that with rage and grief, and you have a whole new feeling. A new power. He can revisit these emotions so easily that they hardly take him any focus at all anymore, just like your shield, Kiethara. You weren't ready for Gandador when you first saw him, but he created a fear in you that gave you what you needed, but not one that you were likely to forget."

"Is that the secret behind our skills?" she said, laughing without humor. "A tragic past?"

"I suppose that's what you could call it. But it's not always a curse. Take your mother, for example. Happiness and love were her constant companions. There wasn't a guardian, not even you, I'm sorry to say, who created potions better than she did. She had the right emotion for it, and it became so natural to her, like flying. She created exotic flower after exotic flower, concocting new potions every time. Your silver potion was actually discovered by your mother."

"Really?" Kiethara glanced down at her vine belt. Her surprise simmered into annoyance when she was reminded of her empty bottle that held the very liquid they were discussing.

"Yes," Aaron said in a voice that told her that his thoughts were in the past. "Magic has changed. Magic is changing. Every guardian is different, every emotion unique. No two people ever feel the exact same way for the exact same reasons. This is making magic much more complex than it ever has been before."

Kiethara pursed her lips and drifted towards the guardian's lake. She stuck her bare feet into the glistening water, wiggling her toes as it cooled her flesh immediately.

"How did I beat him?" she asked. "So fast...?"

"Markii," he answered simply. "Swallin had made up his plan involving you, and only you. It looked as though it would have been air-tight; he certainly seems to be one to go over the details to perfection. If you had been by yourself, it would not have turned out nearly as well as it had this time."

"As well as it had? I burned the man alive," she shuddered.

"You had reason to," Aaron said gently. "And you were angry. No one can blame you."

"Angry? My hands burst into flames when I'm angry. Those were no little flames."

"Kiethara, you are still getting used to your connection and the excess amount of power that comes with it. You are going to have some stronger reactions than you would normally expect. Time and practice are the only answers."

Kiethara stared hard at the water, watching the surface ripple as she moved her feet. "If Markii had not been there...I would have let him burn."

"Having an aversion to killing is not something to be ashamed of. Markii is strong, yes, but you never know what he is hiding so desperately under the surface."

"It wouldn't hurt to be like him," she mumbled. "No emotion, no weakness. Do you see how intimidating he is? Imagine me walking up to Gandador like that..."

"Kiethara, the entire basis of your being resides in your emotions. I bid you luck if you attempt such tactics."

Kiethara allowed herself a quick smile. "I'm tired of Gandador reading my face all the time, though."

"It's either that or trying to fight him without any magic at all. Why else do you think Markii doesn't use magic? His tribe does, all except for him. He's incredibly distant from the rest of the tribe. Well, except for Durga."

This time Kiethara could not help herself. "How in the world do you know all this?"

"I'm dead, Kiethara, and the dead hear far more than the living. Not to mention my power and position in the forest."

Kiethara swirled her fingers in the water, pondering Aaron's words. Under what seemed to be an explanation, she sensed that there was something else concealed, something exclusive. "That answer needs more explaining."

"That will be explained at a different time. Too soon, Kiethara," he said. She repressed a scowl.

Where her newly found patience was coming from, she had no idea. She was too occupied with appreciating the peace around her. The water soothed her skin and the quiet atmosphere soothed her thoughts, which bounced around in her skull like a million buzzing bees. She felt safe here with Aaron; his presence had always been a warm blanket to her, melting away each and every fear that she had for the moment. She had forgotten how much she really relied on him, how prominent he had always been to her, even when his advice got under her skin.

She could not find the will to get up. She did not want to leave the one blissful moment of her day so far. She did not enjoy the idea of accommodating Markii anymore, especially when she thought of him as "taking care of the body." How could he look at it without tossing his innards as she had almost done?

"You are not a monster, Kiethara."

"Maybe not," she said. "But what kind of guardian am I if I can't take care of my enemies?"

"One that doesn't let the power get to her head," he answered promptly. "Having a weakness can be seen as a blessing. Try to focus on what you did accomplish today. Not only did you utilize your connection, but you also excelled at the skills that required no magic at all. You used everything from your training, and that is very wise."

"I don't think we see eye to eye, Aaron. I should be using the skills that require magic more and more! Gandador—"

"Gandador," he interrupted. "Is not the sole enemy of the forest. Someone out there still has that cursed jewel that you had the misfortune of encountering. So when you are forced to fight them without any power at all, you will be grateful that you spent longer practicing and using your sword than the water element."

Her heart sunk at the idea of that necklace.

"But people use strong abilities that I don't have!" she continued. "Gandador can create pain that can suffocate me, and he doesn't even move a finger!"

"You were never promised that this would be easy, Kiethara. The trick with those abilities is that they take a lot of magic, too much for Gandador to afford. I cannot promise you that he won't do it again, but if he does, Gandador won't be able to keep it up for long. If he loses too much of his power too quickly, it would be more than easy for you to take him down. I don't think he will risk that very often, if at all, again."

"He did them before without a problem, I don't see why he wouldn't do it again," she disagreed.

"He did them then because he didn't fear you," he said. "He did them because he believed that even with the loss of magic, you would still be an easy target to acquire. The last time he used it, he couldn't hold on for long, and when you were able to continue fighting afterwards, it completely derailed his plan. Now that he knows that you are strong enough to withstand it, he cannot afford to drain his powers in such a way again."

"Ah." Aaron's words finally clicked in her head. And she had to admit, sometimes his unfailing logic and ability to know more than he should made her feel a little better. He knew just how to sooth her worries or calm her fears, irrational or not.

Well, most of them.

"So even if these extra abilities they all have don't help them very much, I'm still not able to kill him," she admitted, looking up at Aaron.

Aaron sighed—a low, worn sound. She wondered if her question irked him.

"Kiethara, you are a beloved daughter to me, and a worthy descendant of my line, of my power. Being a guardian is a greater responsibility than anything else in this world and, unfortunately, it requires much. I loath asking this of you—you have no idea—but you have to kill him. There is no other option. I'm sorry."

Kiethara never thought he could say _yes, stop sniffling and kill the man_ in so many words. And yet...

She could not stop selfishly hoping that she wouldn't have to do it. Like today, she had practically prayed that someone else would take the task from her hand. It was a horribly selfish whim. Anyone facing her father was surely facing death.

"Its fine, Aaron," she sighed, pulling herself up out of the water. The good feeling vanished.

"You did well today, Kiethara," he extolled. "You saved the forest."

"I suppose," she said tiredly. "But isn't that included in the 'great responsibility?'"

Aaron chuckled. "Yes, it definitely is."

"That's what I thought," Kiethara said, turning her back to Aaron to hide a small smile.

"Take it easy and enjoy the rest of your day," Aaron said in farewell. Kiethara looked up at the sky. The sun was still high above them. Could it really be only noon?

"Thank you," she whispered to the now empty clearing. With Aaron's absence came the same sense of dread that haunted her daily now, churning her stomach just as easily as the thought of a dead body, picking up the wind around her. Stray leaves and strands of her hair were pulled away in its grasp, whisking through the crystal clear air of the forest. She kicked off the ground and headed towards her clearing.

Markii was not there yet and she tried not to focus too hard on that fact. Instead, she plopped down on the emerald green grass and waved her hand over it. Strawberries spread quickly, staining the grass with their luscious red.

What if Markii didn't like strawberries? Frowning at that possibility, she looked up at the tree above her. Apples and oranges bloomed off the branches and, with a tug of the wind, they fell all around her. There, he had to like at least one of those. Maybe she should grow potatoes, too...They were not her favorite, but they could be his.

Her worries were cut short as he entered the clearing. There was absolutely no change in his appearance, except for a sheathed sword and a little more dirt on his boots.

She looked up at his tall figure as he stopped in front of her. "Hungry?"

He looked down at her. His expression remained intense, but he seemed to be contemplating sitting on the forest floor. Well, it was not as if she had a chair to offer him. It was the ground or a tree.

He did sit, finally, leaning against the other tree that supported her hammock. He grabbed an orange and started peeling it.

They ate in silence for a moment; the morning's events had made them both exhausted and hungry. It was not exactly uncomfortable, but Kiethara had something she wanted to say.

"I'm sorry this happened," she said. "You probably didn't come here expecting a battle."

"No," he said.

She fidgeted. His response had not really given her all that much to say.

"So why...exactly...did you come here?"

"Durga," he answered curtly. "She is too weak to travel, but she worries about you. I came here to ease her worries and assist you in any way I could."

Kiethara was momentarily touched by such kindness. Her heart ached at the thought of Durga fretting about her, like the mother she never had.

"Is Durga ill?" she asked fearfully.

"A bit," he said. "She's not as fast or as strong as she was. Age, eventually, takes its toll on willpower."

Although Markii's voice was as emotionless as the rest of him, she almost imagined his words to hint at admiration. Aaron was right; there was something between Durga and Markii that consisted of more than an old woman who had a young man protecting her.

"I'm sorry," Kiethara whispered. "If there is anything I can do—"

Kiethara gasped. There was something she could do! Thank goodness she remembered it...

Reaching down, she unhooked the glass bottle filled with a deep, golden liquid from her vine belt. She had never used this potion before. She hadn't even made it...

A seven year old Kiethara sat cross-legged in the center of the forest. A brighter Spirit of Aaron stood over her.

"Kiethara," he had started. "I need to give you something."

She had looked up at him in confusion. "Okay...?"

"Every guardian has been equipped with this and, when the time came where they needed it, it came to be a great help," he bent down so their faces were almost level. Her navy blue eyes were wide. "But you need to take good care of it."

She nodded vigorously.

"I trust you," he continued. "So I'm giving it to you know, even though much guardians don't carry it at your age."

"What is it?" she had demanded, bouncing and eager.

Aaron chuckled and then held out the item in question.

Little Kiethara had squealed in delight at the vine belt he held. She grabbed it and pulled it around her waist, fumbling to tie the abnormally thick and strong vines. She jumped up from her sitting position, and the belt slipped right off of her and onto the ground around her feet.

Aaron bent down and picked it up, tying it around her waist himself. "Now, this isn't just some forest finery you get to wear. It will never die, wither, or break."

She nodded. "But why do I need it?"

"To hold this," he said, holding out a glass bottle. Golden liquid swirled inside it, as though he had been able to bottle precious metal. Her eyes had grown even wider.

Aaron tucked the bottle in between the twisting vines. He fidgeted it a couple times to make sure it wouldn't fall off, and then he stood up.

"Keep that safe." he warned her. "It's a potion. Eventually, you will start making your own potions, but for now, keep this one safe. It is extremely difficult to make and should not be used unless necessary."

"Yes, Aaron," she promised. "But what does it do?"

"It heals any serious or fatal illness," he had explained. "You will get sick, but if you ever get an illness that threatens your life, you must use it. A guardian cannot afford to be bed ridden."

Kiethara's face fell. "Is that all?"

Aaron chuckled. "I'm afraid so. Have a good day, Kiethara..."

Little seven-year-old Kiethara had waddled off into the rest of the forest, now accompanied with a new and powerful companion.

### ***

Sixteen year old Kiethara snapped back into the present, her hand squeezing the cool glass of the vile. She had, fortunately, never needed it. The worst illness she had ever befallen was a fever. Durga needed it more than she did...

Kiethara took a deep breath. Aaron would probably be furious, but how could he stop her? She looked up at Markii, who was scrutinizing her intently.

"Here," she said, thrusting the bottle at Markii. "Take this."

He took it, bringing it closer to his eyes. The increased intensity they held was most likely the closet thing she would ever see to amazement on his face.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's a potion," she explained. "It heals any serious illness. If Durga isn't feeling too well, a mouthful or two should set her just right."

Markii stared at the potion for a moment longer, and then inclined his head, stowing the potion away in the folds of his clothes. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Kiethara said through a yawn. She was dead beat, her eyelids already drooping. Looking up, she saw the sun inching its way away from the center of the sky. More time had passed then she thought.

"I should go," Markii said, making his way to his feet. His voice sounded gruff.

"No!" she cried, grabbing his arm. She blushed when her thoughts caught up with her actions, but she continued nevertheless. "If I'm exhausted, you must be to."

He stared down at her.

"How long will it take you to travel back to your tribe? A day, at least?" she asked. Unlike Navadar, he did not have a horse. "You're probably exhausted, and falling asleep out there somewhere, alone, in the dark, is not really smart. Sleep for a little bit, then take off. I would feel horrible if you got hurt after helping me."

After a few very long and uncomfortable moments, he finally nodded. He resumed his original position, leaning his head against the bark.

"Thank you," he said again. She might have been flattering herself, but she thought he sounded a small bit relieved.

She sighed and leaned against the other tree that supported her hammock, happy that she had made someone stay in the forest after a catastrophe. Navadar was always so quick to leave...as though he was anxious to get away from her and this forest. At least someone was brave enough and nice enough to keep her company after their life had been threatened.

"My...responsibility..." she mumbled incoherently as she fell asleep.

CHAPTER 49

### INSTINCT

Kiethara moaned softly, but she did not open her eyes.

She had the sense that she had been asleep for a very long time. At some point in the night, she had slid off the tree and curled into a loose fetal position, and the grass could not have been any more comfortable, or the wind any more refreshing. Although she felt fully rested, she could not find the will to get up.

But she could not fall back asleep. There was too much noise around her, thuds and muffled words.

Wait, _noise?_

She lived in a forest; there should be nothing but the sound of squawking birds and various calls of other animals. Not a grunt or a yell...

"Who are you?! What are you doing here?!"

"Calm down, man!"

Kiethara gasped, her eyes snapping open. She knew these voices. She did not have to look very far to find their owners, either.

Markii and Navadar were brawling to her left. They had each other by their arms, heels digging into the ground. Navadar's face was livid, expression almost wild. Markii's expression held no emotion—something that now failed to surprise her—but instead, it was tensed and strained in concentration.

"No," she whispered, too shocked to move. She stared at them, gaping, her thoughts spinning wildly. What..? What in the world was going on?

"Release me!" Markii ordered.

"Get away from her!" Navadar shouted in return.

Markii and Navadar were fighting? It didn't make any sense. They were fighting over her..?

Then it all clicked in a wave of comprehension. Navadar had finally come, but while Markii was still here. She felt like she had been punched in the gut. It was truly horrific irony. Kiethara suddenly recalled screaming at Navadar herself, throwing out phrases like "cheating scoundrel" in his face. Now here he was, for the first time after the girl who had caused all that trouble had been murdered, and he finds her sleeping next to some strange man. The thoughts that must be running through his head!

The two young men grunted and shoved at each other again. Navadar swung a punch, which Markii neatly dodged. They both reached for their weapons, shoving until Markii was backed up against the tree he had slept against the previous afternoon.

"No!" Kiethara cried, jumping to her feet. "No, stop!"

She dived, trying to wedge herself in between them. "Stop it! Stop it!"

An elbow suddenly smacked her in the face. She did not know whose it had been, but it knocked her back onto the grass.

Her pride swelled and her crystals glowed brightly while fear of the situation filled her. Markii had saved her, and now he was being attacked! Navadar had just been forgiven by his kingdom and by her, and now she would need to be explained and forgiven! Still, neither of these reasons gave them any justification to smack her across the face and continue beating on each other as though they hadn't noticed!

Eyes narrowing at the two, she sprang to her feet, fists balled. She was angry, but her heart still skipped a beat when Markii managed to land a punch on Navadar...

Then, amazingly, two golden spheres appeared in front of her. The one on the left housed Markii, who took a quick step back in what she had to guess to be shock. It did not show on his face, but she thought she saw a flash of something unguarded in his gray eyes. The one on the right held a murderous Navadar. His chest was heaving and sweat gleamed on his forehead and neck. The shield, however, did not seem to surprise him.

Kiethara rubbed her jaw, a bit smug. Now that she was in control, she could work the truth into the situation. She did not question her new ability: she loved it. They most likely would have killed each other. Markii already had a cut lip and Navadar a bruised forearm.

"AYE!" Kiethara yelled. "Both of you need to calm down!"

"Who is he?!" Navadar yelled. "And what in the world is he doing here?!"

"His name is Markii!" she answered. "He—"

"Was visiting the forest for the sake of my tribe," Markii interjected. "When Miss Kiethara was attacked. I helped her defeat her enemy, but was too tired to journey back, so she allowed me to stay here for a night."

Being honest, she knew that Markii's blunt, unattached explanation was far more effective than anything she could have said; however, it irked her slightly that he did not seem to figure that she could talk for herself.

"Is this true?" Navadar asked her sharply.

"Yes, Navadar," she said in an almost pleading tone. "Markii and I are just acquaintances. The only reason we met was because of Durga. You remember what I told you about Durga?"

He nodded with a bit more comprehension, but his glare at Markii remained to be murderous.

"Durga would have come herself if she wasn't ill," Markii continued, and then he looked at her with his intense stare. "Thank you again."

"My pleasure," she said softly. Durga's gestures still warmed her heart.

"I think I'll take my leave now," Markii said, looking pointedly at the shield surrounding him.

"Oh!" she said, fumbling around inside her head. She didn't fully understand the trigger to her newly discovered ability, so it took her a moment to make them disappear. As soon as they did, Navadar walked over and placed himself directly in front of her, as though he was acting as a wall to separate her from Markii.

"I'm sorry you had to come at such rotten timing, but thank you for all of your help," she said earnestly over Navadar's shoulder. "Give Durga my love."

He nodded and turned away, walking at a quick pace until he finally disappeared into the trees.

Kiethara sighed in relief. If Navadar got any tenser she feared he would most likely implode.

Navadar turned and stared down at her. His green eyes were sparking dangerously.

"Do you want to explain any of that?"

"Do I have to?"

His narrowed eyes answered the question for her.

"Well, it wasn't Gandador," she huffed, crossing her arms. "It was a man named Swallin."

" _Men,_ " he spat. "I'm tired of constantly hearing about how they come in and out of the forest! Attacking you, nonetheless."

Kiethara rolled her eyes. "I couldn't agree with you more. But I don't think Gandador is going to send a woman here to do his job."

It was a shame, really. There was only one girl who had ever dared to venture here, and she was the only person who had never hurt her yet.

"Swallin? Was that the man who gave you that scar on your arm?"

"No, that was Sinsenta," she said with a grimace. "Swallin is much different. He...He creates illusions. It's a branch of magic that I've never seen before."

"So Gandador can create illusions now?" Navadar asked, aghast.

"I don't believe so; he hasn't used them yet. The only person who I've ever seen use them is Swallin and, well, he's dead now," she said in a flat voice. "So, for the most part, problem solved."

Navadar was silent for a moment.

"He's dead?"

"Yes," she said. "I...I set him on fire, and Markii stabbed him."

"What about his body?"

"Markii took care of it," she admitted uncomfortably. This wasn't exactly the conversation she wanted to be having with him.

Navadar only looked at her for a moment, and then his face split in a wide grin. "You never fail to amaze me, Kiethara."

"Amaze you?" she asked, bewildered.

"Mmm," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "Not a day goes by where I don't think about how strong you are. Truthfully, sometimes it scared the blazes out of me. You have all this power and it amazes me that you're still scared to take a life. It amazes me that even with all of your power, you're still afraid."

Kiethara frowned. Aaron had said something of the similar basis...but he hadn't used the word _afraid_.

"It reassures me," he continued. "That I'm not just in love with a guardian. I'm in love with a lovely girl."

Kiethara felt her cheeks color, but before she could say anything, Navadar's lips were on hers. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his torso as he squeezed her gently. The sensation made her feel like she was melting into his chest; their warm breath mingling with the air of sweet reunion. It had been too long.

It was bliss; however, even as her hands wove themselves through his hair, she couldn't help but think of Trinnia's body that rested in a meadow less than a mile away. The kiss was sweet, but she didn't feel the same happiness.

They finally broke apart, panting, and Kiethara returned to the ground. She rested her head against his chest, his arms tight around her. It was a very comfortably position.

"Swallin didn't hurt you, did he?" Navadar asked her suddenly. Kiethara looked up at him and cracked a grin. It was hard to take his question seriously with his hair sticking up at such odd angles.

"What?" he asked.

"Your hair," she giggled. He grinned, too.

"I think I'll leave it," he said, touching his nose to hers. "I don't see much of a point to set it right."

Her smile widened.

"You didn't answer my question, though," he pointed out. She made a face.

"No more than usual. He was...easy to handle. Weak, really, compared to Gandador."

She trailed off, lost in thought for a moment. She then came to, remembering Navadar had a tale of his own to share.

"How was it, going back?" she asked quietly.

Navadar's expression hardened into a cold mask. She had seen flickers of his grief before, but it shone boldly in his forest green eyes now. She had the feeling he was reliving a very painful memory.

"I didn't even make it to my house," he whispered. "Her father happened to be walking down the street, and he noticed me. He ran over with a big grin on his face, a brooch for Trinnia in his palm...

"Of course, she wasn't with me. He asked me if I had escorted her home already...and you know what I said in reply?" he asked, disgusted in himself.

"Navadar..." she said quietly. Her expression was a mere echo of his pain.

"I said 'she's not coming home,' just like that. I couldn't even look at him! Then I just stepped around him and continued home. I was a coward."

Kiethara did not dare to interrupt him, not even after he spat out those last words. What was she to say?

"I walked into my house to find my father having tea with Trinnia's mother in the study. Alas, what other punishment did I deserve than having to tell her mother? But I still couldn't do it. I stood there, frozen, knowing that her father would be there any moment...and then I bolted up the stairs.

"Out of everybody I imagined telling the news to, Tina was the last. But I ended up in her arms and I told her everything."

Tina. That was reassuring. That woman had been so nice to her when she had been in Redawn.

"She was able to calm me down, and then she led me down the stairs. She said to me: 'Go on, be a good man and break the news to her mamma gently now.'

"I did just that," Navadar's voice grew even lower, gruffer. "I walked right into the room, not even giving them time for pleasantries. My father was halfway out of his chair to embrace me! But the words came, and they flowed easily. I had already spoken them to Tina.

"Trinnia's mother had fainted as soon as I had told her that her daughter was dead. My father, on the other hand, flew into a passion. He screamed at me for a full ten minutes, ending with how much of a disappointment I was. He said I was a curse; I had killed my mother and now Trinnia too."

"Your mother? You didn't..."

"She died of child birth. Of giving birth to me. It was the worst feeling to know that my father still hasn't forgiven me for that. He would prefer it if she was alive again and that I was the one dead. He never loved me. Not the way he had loved her."

"Navadar, that can't be true!" Kiethara argued. "He was probably just scared for you!"

"He was scared for himself, Kiethara. Scared that I'm going to take his life next, or ruin his life in some other way. After he laid Trinnia's mother on the sofa, he turned to me and told me to pack my things. He said he never wanted to see me again."

Navadar seemed to be talking through a lump in his throat. His face was turned away from hers, but she could see the muscles straining in his neck as he clenched his jaw. Her stomach plummeted.

"I went up to my quarters and did just that, packing everything I owned. But I had been so exhausted from the journey, and from everything...I laid down on my bed and fell asleep.

"By the time I woke up, the sun was just beginning to set. The house was silent, not even the usual smell of supper wafting through the halls. I headed out of my room and searched the entire house, but no one was home. Not even the servants. I had never felt so much fear in my own home. The mansion had never been empty before. Not even when I was a little boy.

"I left and headed over to Trinnia's house. I knew—somehow—that my father was there. Though why he had taken the servants, I still had had no clue.

"I knocked on the door and, to my surprise, Tina was the one to open it. She took one look at me, shook her head, and beckoned my inside.

"'What's wrong?' I had whispered.

"'You best be getting inside, boy,' she had whispered back. 'They're all in the parlor.'

"I heard voices in the background and as I walked forward the sound of my boots silenced them. I don't believe I have ever dreaded anything more, but as I walked down that hall, I wished to die before I reached the door on the other end, which stood ajar. I still remember the way my hands had been shaking, how sweat had been trickling down my neck...

"I entered the room against my better judgment. Trinnia's mother was propped up in a chair, her feet in a bucket of ice water and tears streaming down her face. Her father's back had been to me as he stared into the fire. My father was getting out of his chair with a livid expression. Before I had had time to react, he had crossed the room and struck me across the face."

Kiethara, so caught up in his gut-wrenching tale, let out an audible gasp. She could never imagine Aaron striking her and, to her, Aaron was a father. She had felt more pain when he had pretended to leave than when Gandador had sent her flying with a kick to her gut.

"I can't say I had never thought him capable of doing such, nor can I say that I didn't deserve it. And if it helped console the parents for their, and my, loss, it was for the better. They needed to know that I was being punished. I don't have any complaint, but from that moment on, things between my father and I have never been the same and I..."

Navadar trailed off, and the two of them stood in silence. After a few long minutes of silence, Kiethara prodded him gently. "How?"

"I moved out the next day. The only things I took were my clothes, my bow, and my horse. No inheritance, no blessing, not even one of my mother's old trinkets."

"Inheritance?"

"It is what a father bestows to his son, especially the eldest. A son that has no blessing and no inheritance is not considered to be worth much. For one, no father would give their daughter to a man who has nothing. And without a wife, you have no family, and with no family you have no one to pass down your namesake. You do not understand how much these things are esteemed in my society. Without it, you are worth nothing, you are seen as nothing, and you can earn nothing."

"Just because you don't have a blessing?" she asked angrily. "That's foolish!"

Navadar smiled one quick, grim smile.

"I know it's hard for you to understand, but these laws are so ingrained into our community that it's impossible for anyone to see past them. Except for you, of course, for you have grown up away from their influence. And because I left my father's roof without any of these things, I could not find work. I did not have any pay.

"Luckily, I did have an amazing friend. Mallkin and his family allowed me to room with him. It was certainly a humbling experience, staying with him. I had to work for them in place of a rent. As my father was a smith, I helped them with any and all problems that called for those particular skills. It kept my hands busy and my heart free from guilt, but the burden of shame was almost too heavy for me to withstand. I was working long hours without receiving anything but a roof over my head and a bit of bread, such basic necessities that I had taken for granted.

"I have always been wealthy. Not overflowing with gold, but I had well over what I needed. Mallkin's family was not poor, not at all, but they were strictly middle class. It was a change for me, nonetheless. It was a very anomalous few weeks, but they taught me much."

"Few weeks?" she asked, curious. It had been well over two months since his last visit.

"I'm not done with my story yet," he explained. "My respite with Mallkin could not last forever, that was clear. The rumors and gossip were not helping his family, either, or my father's business. I could not journey back to the forest. I hope you can understand why, and forgive me for taking so long."

"Of course," said Kiethara. "I'll always wait, Navadar."

"I don't want you to wait!" he cried in exasperation. "You shouldn't have to sit here while I shuffle through my own problems. Our relationship can't consist of a few visits a year!"

"They're our problems, not yours," she pointed out.

"That's true," he sighed. "I'm just frustrated. My father reminds me daily that while I'm under his roof, I must follow his word..."

"So you're living with your father again?"

"If you call it living," he grumbled. "My father came to Mallkin's house one night. We had a long conversation that lasted almost the entire night. We each had some points to bring across, and we accomplished a lot of compromise. I work six days a week now in order to live back home. My pay is minimal. I can, however, visit the forest whenever my work is done early."

"That's not too bad," she said, surprised.

"It's decent," Navadar agreed. "Far more than I had ever thought I would receive. My father and I might never have our old, happy relationship, but I'm content with what I have now."

"I'm glad things worked out, then."

"That's not the way I would phrase it," he disagreed gently. "This was a turning point, but for better or worse, I cannot tell. I suppose we will have to see."

"I know what you mean," she said. "One thing happens, and then the entire world shifts."

"Exactly," he said. "It's quite disorienting."

He did not know the half of it; however, Kiethara did not say that aloud.

"I want to go visit her," Navadar said suddenly. His voice was loud, as though he was trying to convince himself.

Visiting Trinnia. Kiethara swallowed, her crystals glowing slightly in tune to the pounding of her heart. Of course he would want to pay his respects. But how was she going to go with him, knowing that she had had weeks upon weeks to do exactly this, but had not been able to do it? What if the spot where she was buried was covered in weeds now and Navadar screamed accusations at her for neglect? Disrespect? How would she be able to admit that she had been too afraid to even walk into her mother's meadow?

"Of course," she said hoarsely. She tried to clear her throat quietly.

"Thank you," Navadar said, placing a hand on her cheek. "Lead the way."

She took his hand and led him to the northwest, following the carved symbols she had placed on the trees. She honestly didn't need them anymore—she had memorized the more essential routes she took. Besides, the connection she had now provided her with a flawless guide based on the pinpricks of magic throughout the forest.

Soon the trees began to change as they approached the meadow. Navadar's grip on her hand became almost painful. Is this what his visits were going to consist of, now? Sorrow and pain? As she led Navadar towards the cherry blossom tree in the far corner of the meadow, her thoughts sunk into an even greater despair. This was not love. This was not what she wanted; they could not spend any happiness together if they spent their precious time sobbing over a grave.

Finally, they reached the tree and, to Kiethara's immense relief, the place where Trinnia's body lay was not covered in weeds.

Quite the contrary, actually.

The grass over Trinnia marked the grave easily; it was much shorter than any of the blades surrounding it. This was not the only distinguishing feature, however; the square patch was filled with long, radiant sunflowers. Their petals stretched out like lazy rays of sunlight, reaching far enough to touch the neighboring petals, overlapping one another. It was a stunning sight.

Kiethara stared. How in the world could this have happened? She hadn't been anywhere near the meadow and sunflowers could not do this by themselves...could they? Had Aaron done this?

"Thank you," Navadar whispered, giving her a start. Then she understood.

Navadar thought she was the one who had done this. There was a new look of peace on his face and in his eyes. For whatever reason, it seemed to erase some of the sorrow that had taken root there. Kiethara let out a small breath she had not realized she had been holding in relief. Her horrible weakness had not come to haunt her. She did not bother correcting him.

They stood, hand in hand, besides the grave. The time crawled by, twenty minutes, half an hour...She did not know how much more of this she could handle. This meadow made her edgy now, her senses heightened with awareness. The memories of that wretched day played through her mind again. The flash of the sword...the sound of it whistling through the air...rushing, pouring crimson...She did not want to be here, reliving these memories. They were still colored with a strong sense of guilt that would never erase. It was no secret why Trinnia died. If Trinnia had not come to the forest, if she had not led them to this meadow...Any one factor could have kept this poor girl alive. All those factors had been controlled by her.

"This is foolish!" Navadar growled suddenly, making her jump. She looked over at him and was shocked to see his expression was now contorted into anger.

"Eh?!"

"This!" he cried in exasperation, throwing his arms up. "The fighting, the guarding, all this danger...Every second of every day, you are on the brink of death because of this _magic!_ "

Kiethara stared at him, stunned.

"My kingdom was right to get rid of it! It causes madness and insanity. It is not necessary for you to risk your life for such rubbish!"

Kiethara's hands burst into flames.

Navadar leapt back with a strange noise. "Kiethara!"

"What are you saying, Navadar?" she asked acidly.

"Stop this insanity," he begged. "Let the world live on without it. Live for yourself, keep yourself safe! How are we supposed to love with a constant death threat hanging over our head?"

"I would never!" she hissed furiously. "How could you ask such a thing?"

"This could kill—"

"Your instinct drives you to guard your life. My instinct drives me to guard this forest."

With those words, she turned around and began walking away.

"Kiethara!" Navadar said, grabbing her upper arm. "It's just...I don't want anything to happen to you."

"I know, Navadar," she said, her hands simmering out as her anger cooled. "But I have no choice."

"By Aaron?" he asked.

"No," she rebutted sadly. "By instinct."

CHAPTER 50

### DECISIONS

Are you in love?

It was a good question. Direct, and to the point. There were no hidden inquiries, no false pretenses. It was very simple, demanding a simple answer.

So why was she having such a hard time answering it?

It was possibly due to the fact that she had never experienced anything like it before. She only had two other people she loved, both of which were dead in one sense or another. Another reason, perhaps, could be her independence. She had lived her entire life practically alone; she did not want to admit that this boy had so much control over her emotions. Her pride would not let her. It felt so submissive.

She, however, had no aversion to the feelings he created inside her. The tingling that took place in her stomach whenever she thought of him was not unpleasant. The thought of him in any danger made her breath catch. His mere presence sent her heart racing.

Certainly, that was love.

_Love doesn't normally take that long to find an answer,_ the voice in her head pointed out.

Kiethara tried to ignore her, but it was to no avail. The scene that surrounded her in her dream today was a luscious, blooming field of flowers. It was not her mother's meadow; no, this one spread from horizon to horizon. They were all sunflowers.

_I would keep him,_ Tinya continued to comment.

Of course. She wasn't going to send him away. At least, that's what she wanted to tell herself. Sometimes she felt he did more harm than good.

_How do you figure that?_ the voice snorted. _Every other visit consists of a battle concerning you_.

Kiethara could not deny that, even though she very much wanted to. She had to remind herself that Navadar deserved none of the blame for the trials they suffered, as they were all her fault. If being in love was difficult, being in love with a guardian must be twice that.

_Just kill Gandador,_ she said in a bored voice. _That would solve at least half of your problems._

If only it were that easy.

### ***

Kiethara opened her eyes. For some strange reason, she felt very alert. Alert, but not motivated to get out of her hammock. The sun warmed her skin in such a way that it caused her to want nothing more than to rock in her hammock for the rest of time.

She pursed her lips as she walked back and forth in the morning sun. Navadar had not remained long after their visit to the grave. Whether it was his reaction to her reaction to his words, or his sorrow for revisiting the memory of Trinnia, or his new commitments to his father, it had not ended on a happier note than it had started on. Frankly, she wondered if they could ever meet each other without a note of sorrow again.

She let out a soft sigh. She could not spend the next couple of months brooding over him until he came to visit next.

Now that she was finally alone in the forest again—it had been a full two days with company, reminding her of the strenuous time that she had had in the kingdoms—she could start thinking about what needed to be thought of. How would Gandador react to the news that she had killed his last pawn that he had sent on his ridiculous _capture-the-guardian_ attempt? If he received the news, of course. Would he react right away, this time to take her life instead of her powers? Or would a possible fear keep him away for a good long while as he hatched some new far-fetched scheme?

All these questions bounced around in her skull. Hundreds upon hundreds of possibilities, all depending on thousands of different variables. The best she could do was be prepared—a tactic Aaron had done well to drill into her mind.

She was missing two of her original four potions. One of them she no longer had to worry about. That tiny golden potion had never served her and she doubted she would fall deathly ill any time soon. The other, however, she felt vulnerable without. She had used it twice and it had certainly saved her from a great deal of pain. She needed to remake it, today.

As far as training went, she might want to review some of her key lessons...sword lessons, the elements...Kiethara also wanted to discuss her newly discovered shield technique. Two shields at the same time should earn her some sort of praise from Aaron.

The idea of relaxing any longer was impossible; her pondering had stressfully reminded her of everything that needed to be done. Resentfully, she pulled herself out of the hammock and the warm sun she was bathing in and onto her feet.

After a quick stop to take a quick drink and to relieve herself, she headed towards the center of the forest.

"Good morning!" she called, flinging her arms wide. The shining, almost shimmering air of the clearing was catching, the sun only making it more inviting. It lightened her mood considerably.

"Good morning, Kiethara," Aaron's quiet yet powerful voice said, appearing to her left. The bright sun made him seem even dimmer in comparison.

"They're all gone," she sighed happily. It surprised her; she was usually longing for company.

Aaron chuckled. "Not becoming a hermit, I hope?"

"How in the world can you ask that question when we live in a forest that almost all of the world's population is afraid to come near?"

"I thought you liked guests."

"I enjoy having _a_ guest," she corrected. "Not two guests and an adversary."

"A bit overwhelming?"

"Overwhelming?" she asked with a laugh. She knew Aaron was letting her vent, but she could not stop herself. "Navadar's timing is truly incredible! If he doesn't show up at the worst time, he doesn't show up at all. Markii practically saves my life, and then he gets jumped by Navadar! Now here Navadar is, coming back for the first time after Trinnia's death, to all this...Not to mention I just added another body to the soil of this forest. Thank goodness Markii didn't tell me where he buried him, or there would be a new area of the forest where I couldn't go!"

She took a breath. Should she tell Aaron about her new physiological fear of her mother's clearing? She had barely been able to walk with Navadar yesterday.

Aaron, as always, seemed to know what she was thinking.

"It is not really surprising that Trinnia's death has affected you as so," he said gently.

"I've experienced death before," she muttered.

"Yes," he agreed. "But not like this. First, you can remember it. Second, you physically saw it. The way Gandador killed the poor girl was not very clean, either. No doubt it scarred you in some form or matter."

"I can't stop dreaming about it," she admitted.

"As unfortunate as it might sound, that's to be expected. Your mind—mentally—is dealing with the images while your heart is dealing with the grief."

The fact that Aaron knew all of this did not surprise her; he was usually an expert on everything and anything.

"How can I stop them?" she asked in a whisper.

"By accepting it," he said.

"Accepting it?" she asked, slightly annoyed. "She's dead. What's to accept?"

"When you went to the grave yesterday, you thought you were going as support for Navadar. But we both knew that if he had not been there, you would have never gone. You were leaning on him just as much as he was leaning on you."

Kiethara fidgeted as her frustration mounted. She did not like being told she had any type of dependency.

"Trust me, if you can get yourself to go down by yourself, the dreams might lessen."

"I already went," she practically hissed. "With or without Navadar, it makes no difference. It's Gandador's fault—"

"What's his fault?" Aaron interrupted in a polite tone. She stared at him blankly.

"Everything," she answered slowly. Surely Aaron already knew that?

"But why is it Gandador's fault that you're having dreams about Trinnia?"

"He killed her!" she said loudly. Aaron was playing with her.

"Oh, and that itself is making you have these dreams?"

It took her a minute to understand what he was asking.

"He killed her right in front of me...gruesomely," she added.

"That would explain one or two nightmares," he reasoned. "Not reoccurring dreams. Why do you keep having them?"

"I don't know!" she cried, exasperated.

"You keep thinking about it," he offered as an answer.

She frowned. "Maybe..."

"Why do you keep thinking about it?"

"Because I..." she paused, and then swallowed. "I won't let it go."

"Exactly," Aaron said. If he had any features, she knew he would be smiling in triumph. "Trinnia came to you to apologize. A great way to accept it would be to go visit her on your own time with your own motives."

She pursed her lips, thinking, but there was no way to get around his logic. She took a breath through her nose, gathering strength to leave, but then Aaron's voice rang out.

"Hold on for a moment, Kiethara," he said, his tone souring in disapproval. She turned back around, confused.

"Oh?"

"There's something I would like to discuss," he said calmly, but she could sense a storm brewing under his demeanor.

"Yes?"

"Yesterday, you decided to give away a very valuable potion to a boy who didn't need it."

Kiethara let out a small gasp of comprehension before flinching. She had failed to remember what she had done and prepare herself for his reaction. And now she must suffer the consequences; however, she felt that she had good reasons behind her actions.

"He didn't need it, but Durga did!" she said angrily.

"How do you know that?"

"What?" she asked. "What bizarre theory are you on about now?"

"What if he predicted that you were going to do something like that and then made up some ludicrous tale that Durga was sick just so he could get his hands on something?"

"Well, then, congratulations to him!" she cried, throwing her arms up. "He has a potion that can do nothing but heal an illness. I shudder when I think about the amount of havoc he'll wreck with that."

"Have you taken the time to really consider the possible consequences?" he asked.

"What possible consequences could there be?"

"First, he leaves you one potion short. Whether you think an illness is a serious matter or not, it can still kill you. You're not invincible, Kiethara."

"Honestly, Aaron, the chances—"

"That you'll survive for very long without the potion if you do get deathly ill are very slim," he injected, cutting across her. "And that's not all. He could figure out how to make it for himself, or he could sell it. If it gets publicly known in the kingdoms that you can cure disease, well, that could be very bad."

"How so?" she demanded.

"Think about it, Kiethara, that potion is beyond what anybody can do. If people get a whiff of it...you really don't understand. Disease kills loved ones, tears apart families...If people knew that you could stop all that horror they would flock to the forest! Could you imagine the millions of people, all driven by desperation, stamping into the forest and demanding that you make that potion?"

Kiethara gulped, but made no response.

"It would be a mess of panic, not to mention complete chaos. The forest would be torn apart in the process and Gandador would see it as a perfect opportunity to attack. You would be overwhelmed by a mob and then crushed by your opponent."

Aaron's words were followed by a heavy silence. All of that...just because she gave away a simple potion?

"That seems a bit extreme. I mean, a potion..." she muttered.

"Next time, Kiethara, please think before you make such a decision," he told her in a worn voice.

"Yes, Aaron," she replied in a subdued voice.

"Thank you."

"Tired of me yet?" she asked with a wry smile.

"Ah, you know I could never be tired of you," he sighed. "Gandador, perhaps..."

"You hate him to?" she asked eagerly.

"Hate? Maybe..." he mused. "He is not making my life—if we dare call it that—or my descendant's life any easier. He's fighting so hard to take what is rightfully mine away from my line. Hate is such a petty word, though."

"Well, I hate him," she said defiantly. "With a passion."

"Don't let hate cloud your judgment," he warned.

"Judgment? I already know what he is!"

"I doubt Gandador knows what he is anymore," Aaron said rather darkly.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I suppose we'll find out soon enough," he continued cagily.

"Fine," she said coolly, narrowing her eyes. "Don't tell me."

"Anything else, Kiethara?" he asked, a smile in his voice.

"Yes," she sighed. She didn't want to discuss things with Aaron anymore, but her curiosity needed to be quenched.

"Oh?"

"Yesterday I put up two shields at the same time," she explained. "How did I manage that?"

"Ah, yes," Aaron said. "That was certainly impressive, Kiethara. I do not think any other guardian has ever become this accomplished at their shield."

"Truly?" she asked. "I'm the only one?"

"Truly," he said.

A feeling of immense satisfaction filled her. Becoming a full-time guardian at the age of three had not exactly given her the hope that she would accomplish anything outstanding. Her guidance came from the dead, whose appearances were becoming less and less frequent, not a parent who could be there at every moment.

Her story was pitiful, but according to Aaron, her magic was not.

"How you did it, I can't say for sure," he continued, "You were afraid, and I also think you were torn. Torn by your fear for both of the boys. That resulted in the two shields, I suppose."

"Brilliant," she said with a grin.

"It is," Aaron agreed. "I want you to practice with this. Use trees as objects to shield, and every time you do it, switch to trees farther and farther apart."

"Aren't you going to train me with this?" she asked him, confused. Aaron always instructed her when she learned a new skill.

"Not this time, Kiethara. I think you'll be able to handle this on your own," Aaron hedged, seeming to shift uncomfortably.

Her earlier annoyance at Aaron flared up again. He became secretive at the most random of times, with no obvious pattern between the different topics. She could make neither rhyme nor reason out of it, but what she did know for certain was that Aaron still had things he was hiding. Her only question was whether it would come to haunt her as much as his previous one had.

"Well, then," she said. "I'll go handle it on my own, I suppose..."

"Do not forget to make your potions," he continued as though he had not heard her. "Or potion, considering you only have one bottle now."

"Good day, Aaron," she muttered irritably, walking out of the clearing without a backwards glance. Was the only thing he could do was give her orders?

She stomped off back to her own clearing, her crystals glowing brightly.

_Fine,_ she thought darkly, _leave me to train on my own and brood over your snide hints. I'll just follow along with a happy little smile and perform your orders like a faithful pet!_

She reached her clearing and let out a small huff. She had to let go of her petty anger and realize what was important. Aaron had advised her to go visit Trinnia, and make a potion...

She looked off towards the west, where her mother's meadow lay. Her navy blue eyes reflected on the view, delineating the staid image of the cherry blossom tree...and then she decided to throw herself down into the sun and close her eyes to the world around her.

CHAPTER 51

### PRESPECTIVE

Kiethara let out a sigh as she set herself down on the river bank. Her vine belt did not hang on her waist but in her hand, while in the other hand was an empty glass bottle that was usually filled with a sparkling silver liquid.

Even though she was showing every sign of resentment to completing the task she had failed to accomplish yesterday, that was not actually the case. She was forever grateful for something to keep her hands busy and mind focused. She thought of nothing else as the exquisite silver-petal flower bloomed by her feet. She robotically picked it luscious petals, her mind blissfully blank.

For the past several hours, her mind had not been at peace, but at war. When she had told Aaron she would visit Trinnia's grave on her own, she had not understood the depth of that decision. And deciding not to go yesterday made her lose sight of her resolve. So she had another blood-splattered dream last night. Was it really necessary for her to go to the grave herself? Navadar would be back before long...

According to Aaron, though, if she truly wanted the dreams to stop, she had to do exactly that. She was tired of snapping awake morning after morning, the image of blood pouring from the body burning bright behind her eyelids. It didn't help that Gandador always stood illusively in the shadows, carrying a blood-stained blade. But she never saw _his_ sword.

The bloody sword he held was always _her_ sword.

Kiethara plucked the stem of the silver flower up from the ground angrily. What she found strange was that she had no dreams about Swallin. He had burned alive a mere few feet in front of her and yet somehow she failed to revisit his death every night.

Her thoughts then turned to Markii. He should be back to...well, wherever he came from. He was part of a tribe, but she wasn't sure if his tribe was nomadic or not. Anyway, that was a question for someone who would actually answer her back, like Durga.

But it did not seem as though she would be up to traveling to the forest anytime in the near future. Kiethara had always seen her as an energetic, slightly eccentric lady, making it difficult to imagine her as a frail, sickly old woman. Hopefully, her potion would help. No matter what argument Aaron brought up, she did not regret her decision of handing it over to Markii. It might have some consequences, but none that surpassed the importance of her motives. She could not handle another death.

Kiethara recalled, practically a year ago, when a single visit from her father had opened the door to a world she had only vaguely been aware of. From this doorway everything had come pouring in: hatred, anger, love, loss...and now, she realized death had also crossed over the threshold. It came with the strength of the sea; wave after wave crashing over her. How many could she stand before it pulled her under?

Especially when she could hardly keep from drowning from the first...

Kiethara held up her glass bottle to the sun, not feeling the least bit satisfied in her work, though she was positive she had made no mistake. Now that she had finished her task, she had no excuse to avoid visiting her fears. She did not want Aaron to think her a coward.

She took a deep breath and picked herself up off the grass, retying her vine around her waist. With a great effort she pulled her bare, soil-stained feet forward.

Much faster than she had anticipated, as though the reluctance in her head had anxiously pulled her forward, she reached the meadow. She paused, still in the thick of the trees, feeling very foolish as her palms began to sweat. Her hands felt rather empty and the air around her a bit chilly. Aaron had been right. She had been leaning on Navadar.

She crossed her arms over her chest and set off—awkwardly, uncertainly—towards the cherry blossom tree tucked neatly into the corner of the meadow. The flowers bespeckled the green and brown ground with what seemed like hundreds of different colors. She named each flower as she passed it, trying desperately not to focus on the bright patch of yellow that clearly marked the grave.

She squeezed the tops of her arms as she approached the grave. She walked forward until the long green stems brushed her ankles and then came to a halt.

She stood, wide eyed and petrified. She opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. Her stomach heaved.

What was she to say? She felt as though she was intruding somewhere she did not belong. Kiethara felt a strong wave of stage-fright, imagining Trinnia sneering up at her in disdain, mocking the coward that stood at her feet. How pitiful she must look right now.

A sudden gust of wind swept through the meadow, sending an amazing amount of petals into the air. Before she could help herself, she sneezed.

As Kiethara pulled her hands away from her face, she looked down at the sunflowers and giggled. They were spinning wildly as the wind blew around them and, suddenly, they seemed much less menacing. Normal, as though they weren't marking the dead. After all, Trinnia had just been a normal girl.

"Just a normal girl..." Kiethara whispered aloud and, before she knew it, she was cross-legged in the sunflowers, words pouring out of her mouth.

"I know, now, why you did it," she began. Her heart was no longer racing in her chest. The winds were quiet still. "It wasn't your fault. The riches you had, the beauty you had, the burden you carried...they all turned out to be your curse, not your blessing. Your high status in the kingdom forbade you from finding true love; how many men were you allowed to courtship with? From what Navadar said, only two: himself and that two-faced pervert."

She paused, listening to the sounds of the forest.

"I met him, too. Dark, sleek, cunning, and arrogant. A result from his money, no doubt. Of course you did not want him! He treated all women the same, as toys for him to play with as he pleased. And when you compare him to someone like Navadar, there is no competition."

Kiethara swallowed noisily.

"I know how rude and arrogant I must sound, telling you this. Mentioning Navadar to you. After all, it was I who took him away from you. That golden chance you had with him, a man you could love and marry with approval, was taken away by what was to you a mere legend. Your horror must have been great when you heard that Navadar was running off to the forest. I mean, in your kingdom it's against the law to use magic! He was shaming himself."

Kiethara spoke these words with a distant expression. She knew, somehow, that they were true.

"And if he lost his respect, your parents might not approve of him any longer. That left you only one possibility: you chained in a marriage you never wanted. That must have been a very bleak future, was it not? I couldn't imagine having to spend the rest of my life with a stranger.

"What is there in those kingdoms but a bundle of tragedies and mad, foolish traditions?" Kiethara mused aloud. "Why do you even bother following such things? Look at what it does to people; look at what it has done to you! You were driven to such desperate lengths by family and friends who thought they were helping you for the best! In the end, it was your death. Those laws of society that everyone lets dictate over them killed you.

"I'm not denying that all this"—Kiethara waved her hand around—"didn't play a part in it, but surely you realize the insanity behind your rules! Corsets, money, blessings...isn't it preposterous?"

Kiethara paused, breathing heavily. She looked at the sunflowers as though she was expecting an answer.

"I'm ranting," she said apologetically. "The point is that you were angry at Navadar for practically forcing you into option number two. You were angry with him, but you still did not hate him. You couldn't afford to. Instead, you redirected your hate towards someone you thought deserved it much more: me.

"I am sorry," she whispered. "When I first met him, I had no idea...You don't understand. It was a whole new world for me. I had no idea that someone like him even existed, that one person could make me feel certain feelings I couldn't even name. I was blown away."

"I also didn't have any inkling on his position, or his past, or anything else, for that matter. He was a mystery to me. I swear, I meant you no ill intent by falling in love with him. I did not even know of your presence.

"However, the one fated time we did meet was not exactly under the best circumstances. I was completely overwhelmed and worn, befuddled and desperate. During my time there, the only thing I had time to register was the fact that you hated me."

Kiethara chuckled softly.

"I bet it was a right nasty shock for you when the one thing that was threatening to take away your happiness shows up in Redawn. Shows up as a slave, nonetheless, and then Navadar doesn't hesitate to spend a heap of gold on her! The number of dinners you two could have had with that, the number of gifts, the ring he could have brought you...All wasted on a girl you loathed already. On top of that, Navadar brought this slave in full view of the most crowded place in the entire kingdom. Gossip started up like wildfire—I saw and heard that. And if _I_ was able to grasp that, your parents most certainly did. I bet they started to disapprove.

"Now you were desperate. You had to seal the marriage before Navadar's reputation was tarnished any further. But I was still in Redawn and, unknowingly, working against you. First, you interrupted my day with Navadar. It almost worked; I was almost lost in the maze of bricks and stones. If Mallkin had not found me, who knows if I would have been found again!

"I don't mean any bitterness by this," Kiethara sighed. "I just want to understand, for us to understand, the truth that led to your untimely death. I...don't want it to be entirely my fault.

"You first plan did not work. The rumors and gossip about Navadar and I continued to get worse, and now your desperation must have mounted to its extreme. You came up with a new plan.

"On the morning of my scheduled departure, you made your move. You must have known that you needed to destroy my faith in him to end it...or maybe you just wanted to cause me as much pain as possible. Either way, it was clever. You got him alone, and then, as soon as I walked in the room, you kissed him."

Kiethara took a breath as the memory of that day came flooding to the front of her mind. Her pounding heart, racing thoughts...She refocused on her current train of thought.

"You got what you wanted—my disappearance; however, Navadar was not as keen to let go. I suppose it must have infuriated you, watching your plan backfire like that. He went after me despite everything, further tarnishing his so cherished reputation.

"I don't know where that left you. Were you forced to start a relationship with someone you didn't love? If so, I am sorry. All I know is that months later, Navadar returns with you."

"You were here to apologize. I don't know why you decided to, or if you even really meant it. Perhaps you were only doing it to placate Navadar. The point is: you did. What may or may not have happened while you two stopped in Nikkoi is of no matter; I doubt it made any real difference, for he would have attacked either way. And I accept your apology, even though you really didn't need to make one."

As Kiethara finished, she sank into a stunned silence, amazed at what had just poured out of her mouth. Her mouth, in fact, remained open. She scrambled in her head for a way to close it.

She had done it. She had visited Trinnia by herself, and had even spent a great amount of time talking to her. Not that she had talked back, but still...

There was a slight easing to her chest and a lifting to her heart. Even though she felt responsible for the girl's death, her revelation had shown her that she had not been the only factor. Just the last.

She felt even more relief at the fact that she could enter and enjoy her mother's clearing again. Kiethara gazed around, squinting in the sun, at the bright combination of nature, magic, and beauty. The forest was massive. Could there be any other area in the forest like this? After all, there had been hundreds of guardians before her mother. Who knows what she could still discover?

"Thank you...for listening," Kiethara murmured before she sprang to her feet and into the air.

She didn't come back to the ground for a very long time.

### ***

It was very dark and it was very bright. Kiethara could not tell.

What she could tell was that her heart was soaring, fluttering like a hummingbird's wings. She could not tell why it was beating so hard, for there was nothing new about her surroundings. In fact, she could not be in a more familiar place—her very own clearing. She was just sitting upright in the tall grass, listening to her heart thrumming in her chest. She was not scared, not angry, nor any combination of the sort. There was no logical reason behind the drum roll in her breast.

She quickly lost interest in the phenomenon, however, as a voice sounded out.

_I'm insulted,_ Tinya said in a half annoyed, half amused tone.

_Insulted?_ Kiethara couldn't imagine what she could have done to the voice in her head. After all, she was dead.

Yes, I'm dead. And so is that girl Trinnia.

Kiethara gasped, something like recognition flickering in the back of her consciousness. Her heart sped up some more.

_I don't know why you bothered,_ the voice continued stiffly. _She caused you nothing but turmoil. If you wanted to talk to the dead, you should have talked to me. At least I talk back._

Kiethara smiled in spite of herself. Was she actually jealous?

_Hah!_ the voice snorted. _Like I would be jealous of a girl who had no magic. I'm a guardian; I have nothing to be jealous of_.

Kiethara was taken by surprise at the haughty, proud tones the voice adopted. Then again, she knew she sounded the same sometimes.

_What do you have against Trinnia?_ Kiethara asked.

Why are you defending her? She sent you running out of Redawn and into the hands of your father in Nikkoi.

_Not necessarily_ , she argued. _I'm the one who decided to follow Sinsenta, I—_

Stop defending her!

Kiethara fell into a shocked silence. The voice sounded so frustrated at her, all because she was defending Trinnia...it did not make any sense. She was rather hurt, actually. Her heart raced forward.

_She was no good for you,_ the voice growled. _You can't let your emotions run so soft. You're a guardian and you have a job to do! And you should be proud to do it!_

There was a longing in her voice that Kiethara had never heard before.

It's just that...I never got a chance to be a true guardian. Don't waste it. You have no idea how lucky you are.

Surprising herself, Kiethara felt anger rise in her like a raging beast.

LUCKY? You consider me lucky?! My mother died when I was the age of three! Three! The responsibility of the survival of the forest landed on my shoulders before I could even fly! My parent, my teacher, my company was a dead man! And you have the nerve to scold me for forgiving the dead?

That's not what I meant—

Really? You could have fooled me! You want to know what becoming a real guardian meant for me? I'm currently trying my hardest to kill my own father! I'm training myself! Is this what you want?

_No, I—_ the voice suddenly gasped, cutting off. Kiethara's heart stopped.

_Well,_ the voice said in a dry tone. _I'm glad I made you angry._

_What? What is it?_ Kiethara asked.

_Get ready,_ the voice whispered.

Suddenly, the connection in her head blazed, so strong that she felt like she had been slapped.

Here we go again.

CHAPTER 52

### POSSESION

Kiethara pried her eyes open, only to be blinded by the dazzling sunlight. Her mind spun wildly as it tried to grasp what was happening; the blazing of her connection was not helping her think clearly. It was only until she could see past the sun and into the deep, bottomless pits above her did she realize what was happening.

"Blast!" she cried, Tinya's words echoing in her ears. She went to roll out of her hammock, but she froze as fire erupted around her.

"Now, now," Gandador said, clicking his tongue. "That connection of your's is superb. I didn't think you would wake up that fast."

Kiethara leaned forward in her hammock very carefully so not to rock it. The two trees supporting her hammock were alight and the grass on either side of her was filled with tall flames. The heat was beginning to become unbearable as the tongues threatened to lick at the cloth of her hammock.

Gandador stood a few feet back now, his signature smirk playing across his face. His dark hair looked wild as it stuck out of his skull in odd directions. His eyes, however, looked wary.

"So, a life for a life, is that it? I didn't realize that you were capable of killing. It has certainly... _awakened_ me."

With a jolt, Kiethara realized he had no idea about Markii's existence. She wanted to keep it that way.

She could not respond, though; the flames were growing larger and she had to do something about them. With a sickening sense of recognition, she allowed the winds to pick up. Her crystals glowed bright as she snuffed out the flames.

Before Gandador could trap her again, she sprung out of her hammock and to her feet, her shield flying up as she turned to face him.

"Trinnia did not deserve to die!" she declared, fire in her voice and eyes.

"No?" he asked, appearing confused. "Don't you love the boy? Trust me, child, he will adore you much more now that he doesn't have that blond waltzing in front of him."

Kiethara's hands burst into flames.

"That didn't take long," he noted dryly. He began to walk around her, as a hawk circled its prey.

"Did you think Swallin deserved to die, then?"

"That was different," she replied.

"Do you really believe that?"

"I was defending myself!" she cried. "You slaughtered the poor girl like an animal!"

"And what exactly did she do to deserve the life she had been blessed with?" he asked fiercely. "Child, you are getting on my last nerve! All this pity and made-up grief! Don't fool yourself; you did not love the girl! You have no right to mourn for dear Trinnia when all you did was woo the boy she wanted to be involved with! Being a guardian has made you just as arrogant as your mother!"

"My mother was not—"

"The point is," he continued loudly. "Trinnia's life held no great significance; she performed no commendable deeds. Her heart beats were wasted on her."

"As if you are one to judge that!" Kiethara yelled. "You killed her because she was _normal?_ "

"Is that a note of envy I hear in your voice?" Gandador asked maliciously. "You have been granted power, dear child, and you're wasting your energy pitying someone like Trinnia. I killed that girl because she was useless, weak, and incredibly selfish. If I were a guardian, I wouldn't even have allowed that in the forest."

She remembered her dream from last night and what Tinya had said to her. Gandador was saying the exact same thing.

"Everyone tells me that," she whispered, flames disappearing along with her shield. Some new, powerful emotion was seeping through her. "They all think that...that I'm some higher being. That I'm worth more than anything else just because of who I was born as. Only because I possess this great power! But they're wrong! Just because my death has a greater affect doesn't mean my life is worth more."

The grass at Kiethara's feet wilted suddenly, but, instead of being dry, water pooled at her feet.

Gandador regarded her with new interest.

"Oh, but it does," he whispered back. "Your life is very precious, especially to me."

Kiethara blinked.

"You believe, perhaps, that Aaron cares for you the most? Aaron is only interested in one thing: the fact that the forest remains his."

"So let's pretend that's true," she said, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. "Even if that's all he ever wanted, that's still portraying more love than you."

"I wasn't exactly talking about love, but you're...importance to me. For example, I now realize how foolish it was to even consider killing you. How foolish it was to try to kill your mother."

"Is this remorse?" she asked, her eyebrows shooting up.

"Not at all, what is done is done. I only said I realized that even though I may not love you—the guardians do not deserve their power—I can't just discard of it. Then I thought: who better to own it than me? Someone who truly appreciates the magic, someone who has skill and experience...and then I realized that that, too, is wrong."

She felt her mouth drop open. Was he changing his plans _again?_

"One person cannot house all of this!"

He was suddenly right in front of her, his hands on her shoulders.

"I need to set it free like it once was," he whispered. "I've realized now that this power should not be tamed. It needs to be free like it once was, before Aaron imprisoned it!"

"What?!" she gasped, too taken aback to use anything against him.

"There was a time when there was no guardian, no control! The forest used to pulsate with the magic it gives birth to! The power was free for anyone to take it just as you do now—simply by absorbing it! It wasn't necessary to make potions or eat fruit, things that still only grant meager amounts. This power never used to be strangled and held down like it is now."

Gandador's calm expression was cracked like heated clay in the sun; his eyes were no longer dead, but filled with a fierce longing. His new idea had sparked passion.

And for some reason, this made her very angry.

It made her furious. Her rage whipped through her like a wild beast, her crystals ablaze with light as her new surge of emotion called for her power. For some reason, this new insanity hatched by her father was worse than any of his other ideas. Before, he was just a greedy man who wanted a bit of the glory she had. He only envied the magic at her disposal. He had hated her mother for it, and now he hated her. He had yearned for it to be gone, and then he had desired it for himself

But now he wanted _everyone_ to have it.

Only one thought coursed through her head in response to that, a thought that dripped with possession, denial: _no_.

For it was _hers_. No one else owned this magic and no one else would. She was the guardian; she was its rightful owner. Who else was worthy of such an honor? All those soiled, weak souls could never house the amount of power she could.

Kiethara was vaguely aware—in some far corner of her mind—how fast the tables had turned. Voices all around her had whispered that she was worthy because she was a guardian. She had, however, denied all of them, telling them they were all equal.

Now she was practically screaming in her mind that only she deserved this power. The force inside her body felt so unlike her as it encouraged these thoughts to run rampant in her mind.

A tongue of fire followed her hand as it slashed through the air and knocked her father off his feet. He was quick to extinguish the flames on his traveling cloak, but, to her surprise, he did not retaliate.

"Aha!" he cried. "I see it there, in your eyes. The pride of the guardian, which you have been so falsely denying for so very long. Not so keen to part from your power, eh? No longer so interested in that 'normal' life Trinnia had?"

Kiethara opened her mouth, but no witty response befell her.

"Before you try to deny the truth," he went on. "I think you misunderstand my intentions. I would not just allow this magic to anyone. We would allow only those who have mastered the skill of wielding such an authority to come and be a part of it. We would build a kingdom in this forest and it would soon become much more powerful than any before it. This here is Aaron's idea of a future: a young girl who is guarding more than she should, while the kingdoms around her slowly dwindle in their faith towards her and the forest. My idea of a future is much more...inviting, don't you agree? Peace, and a population of good, deserved people who will work with more than just metal and rotting wood."

"Population?!" she cried. "For a population consisting of only 'your' kind of people, you would have to kill of thousands! In case you haven't notice, they don't need to use magic to survive."

"No, but they hate the people that do use it!" he spat. "With that attitude spreading throughout the kingdom like a disease, they will soon try to stamp us out, along with our power! I CAN'T LET THAT HAPPEN!"

"A man desperate for power," she whispered softly. Gandador looked half-mad. She had never seen him display such emotion. "How pathetic."

He smirked.

Her shield was thrown up just in time, but she still felt her heart beat irregularly as his sword glanced off of it. Her own sword and potions hung in the tree behind her...

Kiethara let her shield disappear and then kicked off the ground. And unexpected hand snatched up and grabbed her ankle.

Pain—burning pain like ice—coursed through her being. She flinched and let out a terrible scream. She lost focus on everything; she knew that there was no way she would stay in the air.

The hand pulled her ankle hard and flung her through the air. She landed hard in the tall grass. It took her a stunned moment to realize the unbearable torture had stopped, that her body was not being racked against crystal shards while be dunked in an icy river. Every inch of her throbbed, but she was almost relieved he had tossed her like some filthy rag...

"Stay down," Gandador jeered.

"If it's a dog's company you seek, go order around your faithful pet Sinsenta," she sneered back, rising to her feet.

"Ah, I would, but he's busy watching over his son. My new apprentice, you know. If Aaron can have descendants, so can I."

He paused, scanning over her with dark eyes.

"A descendant who isn't trying to run me through."

"Sorry to disappoint, _father_ ," she hissed, the last word dripping with sarcasm.

She took a calming breath before allowing fresh bark to shoot up from the ground, knocking Gandador aside. She brought forth vines as well, but before they could find their target, it disappeared.

He reappeared right behind her. As soon as she spun around, however, he was gone again, reappearing in a tree across the clearing.

"Stop this foolishness! I know you don't have enough magic to spare for that," she yelled angrily.

"Oh, I'm not too concerned. This fight will end soon."

This was far too risky and juvenile for a man she knew to be so careful, cunning, and mature. Who was this person before her? It seemed as though he was just playing with her.

"I don't see where you've gained such confidence," she said slowly. Her shield flew up; Gandador's lack of caution seemed to trigger her own.

"No, I don't believe you can see it right now," he chuckled, as though he was enjoying some private joke.

Pieces were starting to fall together in Kiethara's head. There was something hidden in his response; the way he said it grabbed her attention. The man she was observing wasn't being carefree—he was happy. Ecstatic, even. The reason she had failed to notice it before was because she had never witnessed him display such emotion.

Kiethara's fear increased; anything that made Gandador happy would not do the same for her.

Whatever it was, she wanted her sword. She felt naked without it, not to mention her potions.

She crept forward quietly and slowly, not wanting to make her advances obvious.

"What can't I see?" she asked in hopes of distracting him.

Gandador gave another hallow chuckle and leapt from the tree and onto the grass. The only thing that stood between them was her hammock, and in the branches above her, her weapons.

"Do you recall your time in the kingdoms?" he asked suddenly.

"Of course," she replied warily. She moved forward another step.

"Well, I was quite interested in how you came to be there. Especially in Nikkoi. At first, I figured you must have come for the boy. But that didn't quite add up, for you were traveling the dangerous, dirty hole of Nikkoi on your own. As noble as I'm sure the boy is, he would have never let you wander off without him."

"I could have been trying to find him in Redawn and had gotten lost on my way," she pointed out. She stepped forward a couple more feet.

"You were too beaten and bruised for that," he said dismissively. "It didn't take me long to track down my answer. I have very good connections—the eyes and ears of the kingdoms, if you will—and your arrival did not go unnoticed. Four men in particular were called to my attention."

Kiethara's stomach dropped.

"After a little encouraging on my part, they told me the whole story. Separately, because they were no longer in business together. I actually had to kill the youngest of them, as I told you in my letter. Poor chap, for he seemed to want to protect you."

She let out a small gasp, tears blooming in her eyes. She suddenly remembered what Gandador had said in his letter. How could she have forgotten? Everything else he had written had just made her so mad...she had burned it up...but she should have realized what Natal's death meant.

"They captured you and had tried to sell you, but you escaped. What concerned me the most was how four non-magical men managed to kidnap you in the first place."

Kiethara had finally reached her hammock. She looked up at her dangling weapons and prepared to snatch them down...

Gandador suddenly disappeared again. She held her breath as her connection went quiet and still for a moment, waiting...

With a blaze of awareness in her head, she felt him reappear behind her. She turned to him with a feeling of cold dread.

"Why, my dear, they did it with this."

Gandador dangled a devastatingly beautiful necklace in front of her. Everything else faded away as she gaped at the large, black jewel, which seemed to be emitting a faint glow. Her heart stopped, her insides went cold, and her mind spiraled in the deepest despair.

It was really over now. There was no way she could win this battle, not when her opponent wielded the weapon of undeniable destruction. She felt it already sucking merciless at her magic; draining her of her power, her energy, and any means of hope. It had never been so clear that she stood gazing upon the face of death.

But she had training for this!

Aaron and she had gone over this situation countless times! Aaron, who wouldn't even appear now to save her. She had a sword hanging feet above her, not to mention the unlimited supply of power from the forest through the connection in her head. She could regain the magic as quickly as she lost it.

With an enormous effort it seemed, especially for such a simple task, Kiethara reached up and ripped her sword off the branch. Blindly, because of the falling leaves that so resembled the twirling diamonds that encrusted her hilt, she yanked it out of its sheath and swung it through the air.

Metal clanged against metal and her sword fell from her hand. The jewel was draining her of power that could be replaced, but it was also sapping energy that came from her body.

Reaching to her connection, she brought forth a new wave of magic from the forest. She barely had time to register how great it was before she allowed her shield to appear and then burst forward.

Gandador flew back, but he caught himself in the air just before he hit the ground. With a smirk, he vanished, only to reappear inches from her.

Now the cursed necklace was dangling an inch from her face, rendering her incapable of doing anything but staring wide eyed into the black stone, which seemed to be glowing even brighter. Her own crystals dimmed.

"I wouldn't keep doing that," Gandador noted. "You are only allowing me to take even more power."

_Come on_ , she thought desperately. _Attack him!_

She clenched her fist and allowed it to burst into flames. With a wounded cry of rage, she swiped it through the air.

Her aim was true this time—her enflamed fist made contact with the side of Gandador's head. Not for long, however, for with a cry of pain and fury he seized her wrist and forced it away. Before she could move again, he grabbed her other wrist in the same hand and then twisted them back painfully.

"Argh!" he spat, using his free hand to tenderly poke at his burnt cheek. It was only pink—not nearly as horrible as the wound she had inflicted upon Sinsenta.

"Let me...go..." she panted.

"No," he growled, shaking the jewel in front of her face. "It's over! Stop fighting!"

"No!" she cried, but her vision was flickering. Her legs gave way and she fell to her knees. Gandador let go of her wrists, which fell like dead fruit to the forest floor.

"That's better," Gandador huffed breathlessly. He brushed his hand together.

"No," she wheezed. Her mind spun, her connection pricked suddenly, and her crystals went dull. She did not dare to pull any more power, for Gandador was right: she was too weak to beat him without magic and she could not continue to bestow any more magic to the wretched jewel.

"Oh, yes," he said triumphantly. "The time has come for change! Generations upon generations have you and your ancestors been in power, but now we must have new rule! I will build a kingdom over this blessed land and spread it far and wide!"

Her vision flickered again and she was reduced to all fours. _No..._

"Redawn will be the first to fall," he told her. "I'll make sure of it."

"Oh, will you?"

To her shock—and utmost horror—Camella sprinted the length of the clearing and full-body tackled Gandador to the floor.

Kiethara saw Camella grab the necklace from Gandador's outstretched hand as the two of them rolled on the grass.

"What the blazes?" Gandador gasped.

Camella scrambled off of him, holding the jewel high above her head as though it were diseased.

"What do I do with it?!" she cried, dancing as Gandador tried to snatch at her ankles. She barely managed to make herself audible over his screams of fury.

"Just run!" Kiethara shrieked in response. The jewel was now positioned away from her...now was her only chance...

She pulled forward a great wave of magic and a hidden reserve of strength. She pulled herself up off the ground at the same time Gandador did, though his attention was focused on Camella.

Fear—cold, hard fear—pumped through her veins. He was going to kill her! After she had just saved her life, Kiethara would not let that happen.

Her shield appeared, but not around Camella; instead, it housed herself and her father. Gandador was pushed back a step from the force of it and Kiethara had a sudden sense of forbidding. Obviously her magic had given her what she wanted: his attention was diverted back to her; however, as Gandador turned slowly to face her, she shuddered at the thought of his rage so close to her.

"Pray tell," he growled through his teeth. She had never seen him so angry. "Who was that dear maiden?"

"Your downfall, I suppose," Kiethara answered boldly.

"Child," he hissed. "You tell me her name!"

"So you can hunt her down?" Kiethara laughed. "I don't think so."

She bent down and picked up her sword. This time nothing hindered her as she flashed it through the air, but Gandador was fast. He leaned back and it missed his chin by inches. In the next second he had his own sword drawn. He raised it up as if to strike, but before he could extend his arm fully the tip of his blade glanced off their gold-tinted confines.

Suddenly, Kiethara no longer dreaded being trapped in her safe house with her father. It meant that she controlled the environment, thus, she limited Gandador from some of his more outlandish maneuvers.

Something else caught her attention and raised her hopes—Gandador could not escape. By the look of concentration that played across his face and the deepening scowl that creased his face, she figured he could not play his vanishing act. He could not chase after Camella—who Kiethara prayed, was far gone by now. They were evenly footed, besides the fact that he would, eventually, run out of magic.

She would not.

A brilliant smile split her face.

Kiethara thrust her sword forward. Awkwardly, with barely an inch to spare, he knocked her stab away with his hilt.

"Give in," she said. "You no longer have the magic necessary to fight me and you have no means to more. There is no escape."

He made no reply save a roar, proceeding to throw himself on top of her. In a test of strength, he had her. His sword pushed her's closer and closer to her neck.

In a test of power, however, she passed over him with ease. Her hands burst into flames. They were so close to Gandador that she expected him to retreat, but he didn't. Instead, he thrust his head through the inferno and knocked his skull against hers with such a maddening force that everything went black for a moment. She cried out as she felt herself hit the ground. When her senses returned, she found her shield was gone and she was lying on the forest floor, quite alone.

CHAPTER 53

### JOURNEY

Kiethara's breast heaved as sweat kissed at her forehead and neck, her navy blue eyes set wide. The silence was deafening; compressing her like a blanket. For one small moment she felt as though it would smother her, but then a flock of birds burst out of the trees with a series of caws and her sense came rushing back.

The first thing she did was focus on her connection, and she focused hard. She was waiting for a burst of magic or a sudden blaze that indicated a presence. Anything that would break the sudden peace that had settled as quickly as it had been expunged. It did not come, though. She held her breath as the minutes slipped by, waiting for the façade to shatter. Her whole body was on edge, tense and ready to spring from the ground.

More time slugged by. A rabbit crossed a foot from where she sat, frozen. The only part of her that moved was her eyes, which followed the creature as it hopped by. It resembling the tinniest prick in her connection.

Kiethara then realized that there was another presence in the forest. She focused harder and wider, roaming through the forest with her mind instead of her body. It was a person with a small amount of magic: Camella.

She felt a sudden wave of warmth towards her brave friend. She was in her debt now; her life had been saved not by magic, but by sheer courage. The same as Navadar.

It made her feel a little ashamed of her moment of conceited pride. Yes, she had power. No, she was not necessarily powerful. Those who had power amounted to nothing unless they had the right motivation behind it. In the fight, Camella had come out on top, the weakest of the three. And she walked away, unscathed, with the greatest weapon of all.

Kiethara pursed her lips at the thought of Camella possessing the jewel. Did she understand how much leverage she now had?

Kiethara gasped, springing to her feet. She had to reach Camella before Gandador could find her! At any moment, he could appear, and it would not be much of a fight between them...

She threw herself into the air and took off. She focused hard on her connection, keeping tabs on Camella's position. She was weaving through the trees with no pattern or obvious direction, heading in the opposite direction she had come from. Kiethara sped through the air as fast as she could.

"Camella!" she cried as she spotted her figure through the branches.

"Kiethara!" Camella gasped as she landed on the forest floor behind her.

Camella spun around and in her hand flashed the necklace as it caught in the sunlight. Immediately, she felt the draw on her strength and her magic. Her hand shot out to catch herself on the nearest tree.

"Oh! Sorry!" she cried, turning around.

"It's...fine..." Kiethara panted.

"I need to get this... _thing_ out of here," she fretted, shaking her empty hand as though it was on fire.

"Yes," Kiethara agreed. "I honestly can't thank you enough—"

"I appreciate your gratitude, but it really isn't necessary," she interrupted. "Just tell me what to do with it."

"Destroy it," Kiethara replied bluntly. "Burn it, bury it. Anything."

"All right," Camella said, nodding vigorously. "How about I drown it?"

"Perfect," Kiethara said, slightly distracted as she backed up a few paces. "It must be deep enough so that no one will be able to find it."

"Is there a nearby lake?"

"No, it can't be in here." Kiethara tried to think around the haze the jewel created in her mind. "Is there a lake you know of outside the forest?"

She was quite for a minute. "Yes...yes, all right..."

"Be careful," Kiethara stressed. "Gandador doesn't know your name and he didn't get a good look at you, but all the same, you are in danger. Whatever you do, don't go anywhere near Nikkoi."

"I'll take care of it," she vowed. "Don't fret about a thing!"

"Oh, I will," Kiethara argued. "Every minute. That's why, when the accursed necklace is gone, you must come back. I must know that you are safe."

"Certainly," Camella laughed over her shoulder.

"We'll feast when you return—I promise you that."

"A feast, you say?"

"Yes," Kiethara promised. "You need to head east, though; you are facing the wrong direction. Go that way"—she pointed—"and keep going straight."

"Fair winds, Kiethara!" she called as she started forward.

"Fair winds," she murmured as Camella disappeared.

Then everything went black.

### ***

"Kiethara."

She answered this call with a faint sigh; her sense returning to her rather lethargically. It took her a sluggish moment to feel the grass beneath her, to taste the pure, untainted air around her, and to properly hear the voice above her.

"Come on, up now," Aaron said gently.

"No," she moaned, rolling her head away from the sunlight.

Suddenly, cold water splashed against her face and neck. She jolted upright, spluttering and gasping.

"What in the world was that for?!"

"When I said _now_ , I meant it."

"Obviously," she muttered. She rubbed her eyes and looked around. "How did you do that? There's no water."

"There's water everywhere, Kiethara. You just have to find it."

Kiethara shook her head, too exhausted and worn out to comprehend his remark. Everything was coming back to her now. Gandador, Camella, the necklace...

"Aaron," she said, a grin spreading across her face. "Goodness, I think it's done. The necklace is on its way to the bottom of a lake!"

Kiethara could not see an expression of happiness on his dim figure, but she could feel it. A deep joy was emitting off of him. She couldn't recall a time when he had seemed so happy, so relieved. Her smile widened as she took this in.

"We owe this Camella much, Kiethara," he said. "It has been hundreds upon hundreds of years since I have felt this secure about the forest's future. Now that the necklace is gone, I can breathe freely again."

"Even with me as a guardian?" she asked, surprised.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he laughed. "You might be young in years, but not in skill. I have complete faith in you."

Kiethara blushed. "I bet you're happy I make friends with strangers now."

"Indeed."

"The jewel might be gone, but the forest is still in danger. It seems Gandador has hatched another plan again."

"I know," he said, sounding uneasy. "The necklace gave him some uncharacteristic precariousness, which may have led to his new...proceedings."

"Is it possible?" she asked.

Aaron was quiet for a long while.

"Yes," he finally said. "If you were to kill the guardian, but make sure that the forest lived on, eventually the magic would return back to its original state."

"He didn't want to kill me, though. He wanted me to be a part of it."

"The necklace, again, must have influenced that decision. Gandador seems to know how it works: it takes magic from you just as you take magic from the forest. That jewel is filled with power. I believe that he believes that as long as you are still alive, you will continue to feed power into the necklace. Simply put, the power of the forest will be in his hands."

"But it's in the necklace!" she spluttered. "He can't get it, can he?"

"That, Kiethara, I cannot tell you. I have never had the ability to study that necklace as Gandador has. There might be a possibility, I'm afraid."

Kiethara swallowed. The only advantage she had over her father was her unlimited supply of magic. His limitations had granted her those narrow escapes she was so fond of; however, if his power no longer relied on making a potion, her edge was lost...

"But he doesn't have it anymore," she said firmly.

"Which is why," Aaron said slowly. "The next time he comes, the only option he will have left to undermine the guardians reign, as he has so been trying, will be to kill you."

There was a moment of silence.

"We're back to where we started," she realized.

"He's out of all other options. He wants the magic that is here, but he despises that the guardians have rule over it. He has had idea after idea...they have either proved fruitless or impossible, or they were hindered as they were today. Now his only option is to risk destroying the magic by destroying the one thing that has always stood in his way."

"So the next time we meet..." she said slowly.

"Must be the last time," he finished.

Kiethara contemplated that. She understood what it meant and the possibility that lurked in its shadows. Yet her heart remained quite calm in her breast. Now, at least, she had some certainty. No more toying around the edges of the problem—she must end it. The only other option could not be even remotely considered.

No, she could not even think of it. Her stomach churched, but she gritted her teeth and focused on getting up off the ground.

"Are you all right?" Aaron asked.

Kiethara took a long moment to register the aches in her bones, the bruises in her flesh, and the heavy exhaustion that threatened to take her under. She thought of her recent revelation and now realized that another death was on her doorstep: it would be either her own or Gandador's.

So the answer to his question was no, she was not. She was beginning to feel it—the weights of responsibility, the impending fear. It suddenly became much more difficult to breathe than it should have been.

"It's been an unbelievable journey," Kiethara breathed, speaking around a lump in her throat.

"You've been unbelievable," Aaron said. "I do not want you to worry, or make yourself sick with fear. Lighten your heart, prepare for the return of your friend. Train hard. Stay alert. Above all, be prepared."

"Aaron..." she said, her heart racing. Why did his words sound like a farewell?

"I will talk to you...soon," he said quietly. There was something about his tone, and his pause, that made her uneasy. It almost seemed weak. And he seemed so _pale_ ...

"Good day," he said, and then he disappeared.

She opened her mouth as if to call him back, but he was long gone before the words were on her tongue. She gritted her teeth, hurt, angry, and confused. Nowadays, she received nothing else from Aaron. The comfort he usually supplied her with seemed to have run dry...

Kiethara started making her way back to her clearing. As she drifted through the air, she focused on her connection, expanding it wider in search of her friend. Camella had made a great headway already. At this rate, she would be out of the forest by sometime tomorrow. Kiethara could predict no further after that. How far would a lake be? She couldn't recall one from her time in the kingdoms...

Well, she would give her a week. Besides, a week was plenty of time to prepare.

### ***

Kiethara stepped back and brushed her hands off. She spun on her heel, admiring her masterpiece. It looked amazing and the smell was marvelous! The combined aroma of a thousand flowers and hundreds of fruit was mouthwatering...

Yes, Camella would be blown away when she entered her clearing. According to her connection, she would be here in a few minutes, at the most. Kiethara recalled the relief when her friend's presence had pricked in her connection only yesterday...

A feast she had promised Camella and a feast she would get. Fruit, vegetables, and beans were everywhere. The trees were laden with oranges, apples, and bananas, their trunks wrapped with vines of grapes. Plump tomatoes, large pineapples, peaches, potatoes, carrots, strawberries...Anything and everything that she could think of was ripe and in abundance.

Food was not the only thing she had focused on. The forest had plenty of natural beauty, of course, but she felt she had needed to add something more to the scenery. Perhaps she had gotten carried away, but it was not without good reason.

Garlands of flowers circled the clearing, hanging from the trees as they draped from branch to branch. The majority of them were white roses, but she occasionally spotted them with bright daisies. Vines swung between the trees, their trunks rimmed with tulips. She could not even begin to describe the rainbow of petals that she had dropped onto the emerald green grass.

It had taken her a good part of the week to imagine and plan out the scene before her, not to mention all of today to skillfully craft her vision into real life. She had no complaints, though, for it had kept her hands and her mind busy. It had been the necessary yet enjoyable, hard labor she needed to exhaust her and drive away any unwanted thoughts.

Kiethara let out a quiet gasp—Camella was only a few yards away. Quickly, she turned invisible.

Camella finally pushed her way through the vines and into the clearing. To Kiethara's overwhelming relief, she did not seem to be injured in anyway. Her eyes popped wide as she laid them on the sight before her and her jaw dropped open. Silently giggling, Kiethara went to stand next to her.

"Kiethara," she breathed, tucking a strand of her short hair behind her ear. "Unbelievable."

"You flatter me," Kiethara said promptly, turning visible. "It's only fitting for such a hero!"

She let out a squeak in surprise, but then she threw her arms around Kiethara. "It looks wonderful!"

"Welcome back!" Kiethara cried in return, squeezing her back. "How did you manage?"

"Fair," she said, stepping back to admire the clearing again. "It's a great tale."

"Grab something! Anything!" Kiethara told her when she spotted Camella's preoccupation. "Then we can sit, eat, and talk."

Together they walked around and gathered their favorites. Weighed down with their delicacies, they plopped into the grass.

They spent a few minutes eating. The silence was only broken by Camella's exclamations of ripeness and satisfaction, which made Kiethara flush with pleasure. She had wanted nothing more than to please her friend.

"So you are not harmed?" Kiethara asked aloud. She could bear the suspense no longer.

"Harmed? Heavens, no," she answered. "I enjoyed the journey immensely and, even though it was a little wearing, I ran into no trouble."

Kiethara relaxed a little and took a breath. Camella laughed at her response, rolling her eyes as she bit into a juicy tomato, juice dribbling down her chin.

"You don't take danger very seriously," Kiethara noted.

"You could say it like that," Camella mused. "I would say I just don't worry about the 'maybes' in life."

Kiethara only shook her head in response as she sucked on a piece of grapefruit.

"You worry too much," Camella said almost sadly. "I met no one on my way there."

"Where did you go?"

"The sea," she said. "There were no lakes in reach and a river might wash the thing on shore. I decided to go all the way to Redawn, so I could drop it off one of the docks. I knew it would be a long way if I could not stop at Nikkoi, even with my horse, whom I always leave outside the forest. So I stuffed as much of the forest's vegetation in my bag as I could before starting east.

"Like I said, I met no one along the fields. When I approached Redawn, though, that's when I saw him."

"Who?"

"I know not his name. When I stayed the night with you, we talked about our eye colors, remember? When I complimented your eyes, you said you knew a man with two different color eyes. When I asked, you told me about him, and how he was your enemy. Well, a man just as you described was lurking at the gates."

"Sinsenta!" Kiethara gasped.

"Is that his name? Well, I knew there was something wrong about him the moment I came within ten paces! There was just something about...the air around him. It was heavy. Dark."

Kiethara nodded. She understood the feeling.

"He was watching the crowd very closely and as I got closer, he started watching me. The necklace was hidden, of course. Still, when he pulled away from the wall I didn't pause to check where he was headed; I bolted.

"I ran south, and then east. I finally reached the shore line, and for some reason, Sinsenta did not follow me. My only problem was figuring out how to toss the jewel far enough, now that I could not use the docks. Too close, and the waves would just wash it up on land again. So I went out for a swim."

"A swim?" Kiethara asked.

"Mhm," she answered around a mouthful of bananas. "I swam out at least a mile or so, as far as I could, and then I dropped the necklace. Swimming back was a dozen times easier, for some reason. I believe it was the necklace. It obviously has a dire effect on you—nothing as dramatic happened to me—but something in that device seemed to...weigh me down. I can't describe it well, but it was strange."

"That abomination goes against nature," Kiethara growled. "I know exactly what you are trying to describe."

"What does it do to you, exactly?" Camella asked timidly.

Kiethara was silent for a minute, chewing on her words. How should she say it?

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," she said quietly.

"No, no, I'm just trying to find the words. It...drains me, I suppose you could say. It takes my magic and my strength."

Camella shuddered. "It looked, well, horrible."

"It feels no better. It takes everything so quickly, too."

"Why doesn't it take my power?"

Kiethara raised her arm. Her green crystal glinted in the sun.

"You don't have these."

"Your bracelets?"

"My power comes from them," Kiethara explained. "That jewel has a direct effect on them."

"It's a bit ironic that your bracelets make you the strongest of us all, but at the same time they're responsible for your greatest weakness," she pointed out.

"Things usually work out that way for me," Kiethara sighed.

"But we have cause to rejoice! Your luck can't be that bad if we managed to get rid of it!" Camella proclaimed.

"We did manage that," Kiethara mused. She was overcome with a wave of relief. The necklace was gone, Gandador thwarted, and her friend was safe and unharmed. So what if her future was bleak with the promise of death? Her present was currently filled with joy and it would be nothing but foolishness to not enjoy it. Aaron was right; she needed to relax.

"Yes we did!" Camella bent over and plucked two strawberries. "Cheers!"

Kiethara laughed and took the little red berry. Together they ate them with mirrored smiles.

"I don't think I can eat another morsel," she complained, falling back onto the grass.

"We'll sleep it off," Kiethara said lazily, lying back as well.

"Thank you, Kiethara! That was wonderful!"

"Don't thank me! I'm just glad your journey went well."

"It is not the journey to be feared," Camella laughed. "But the destination."

CHAPTER 54

### PANIC

Camella left early in the morning the next day. Kiethara tried to keep her for at least breakfast, but she was worried that her grandfather was missing her. She had never been away from him for more than a week and she did not want to preoccupy him with her further absence.

All the levity that came with Camella's visit left with her, but Kiethara was proud to say that she did what Aaron had advised her to. She had enjoyed yesterday to the fullest: not one stray, depressing thought had crossed her mind. Now, however, she could not afford to waste any more time celebrating her temporary victory. Not if she wanted another.

A strong determination took over her that day and it held her for the next two weeks. It was almost refreshing to have such a drive. It gave her a sense of accomplishment that was strong enough to keep any fear at bay.

In the mornings, she devoted the early hours of the sun to physical combat. She started with her sword: up, down, left, and right would she swing her sword and strike, using a tree as a target. Of course, the tree itself held no challenge for her. Instead of trying to think of a way to make the tree fight back, she grew branches out of it in each and every direction. With her eyes closed, she marked the bark with the tip of her blade. After spinning around it to lose her sense of direction, she would spend the next few minutes jumping, rolling, turning, and dodging the limbs of the trees until she could find and hit the mark she had made before. It did not exactly stimulate a real fight, but it was nonetheless sufficient in toning her muscles and her mind.

That was not the only thing she did with her sword. She would run through the trees with it held high, but her goals changed every time she ran. At first, she would focus on not hitting anything. Once she succeeded in doing that, she would focus on striking everything.

After that, she put her sword down and practiced her true physical combat, even though she sincerely hoped that she would not have to resort to kicking and punching when it came to a fight. Still, it was a valuable tactic to know how to use.

By the time she finished with that, she was desperate for a break. She ate beans and vegetables for lunch, washing them down with about a gallon of water. She had no doubt that she had never been in better shape before.

The afternoons were completely set aside for magic. First was the earth element. This element was so natural to her now that she found it only necessary to train with it for twenty minutes each day. Really, she focused much of her time on water. After working up the right emotion, she pushed and pulled at the water of her lake, twisting it to her will. That alone took much mental strain, but she did not stop there. Aaron's remark about her not finding the water had sparked her curiosity. She started in her clearing. At first, she did not know how to look for the water; it was not exactly hiding.

Soon enough, however, she figured out what Aaron meant.

It was there. In the soil, in the bark, on the petals of the flowers. She soon realized that she was not looking for giant pools or buried springs. The water was spread out over every inch of the forest in tiny droplets, or absorbed into permeable surfaces. Once she grasped that, all she had to do was surface it.

As much as she was proud of herself for figuring out the mystery, she did not particularly like her answer. It did not lead to a very large swell of water and, when she did take it, the forest's response was ill.

The soil dried out quickly, leaving the grass to turn yellow. The bark of the trees became brittle and the flowers wilted. For what she got out of it, she did not think it was worth it. Thus she made the decision to use the technique in emergencies only.

By the time she was done training with the water element she was so frustrated that her schedule flowed effortlessly into the fire element. She taught herself to combine water with fire. Boiling streams of water were useful in any fight; she now could create steam if she ever needed cover.

Out of all the elements, fire was by far the most dangerous of them all. Even though she had complete control over it—at least in training—she could not stop herself from acquiring a good couple of burns. Sometimes it was impossible to keep track of the tongues of fire she made whip through the air. The tips of her hair were singed, as well as the tops of her arms.

With air she did not do much. What more could she do than make the wind howl? She could not see how to combine it with any other element and she already used her shield in every other part of her training.

She only had strength for a hearty dinner before she would pass out in her hammock. This cycle repeated uninterrupted every day for a fortnight before anything happened.

Kiethara wiped sweat from her forehead one afternoon, taking a deep breath before she allowed her hands to burst into flames again. Practicing the fire element at the hottest time of day had not exactly been her smartest idea. She didn't want to stop, though. She had kept up the same strict schedule and she was not changing it now.

Narrowing her eyes, she focused on whipping great jets of flames through the heated air. She was reaching new distances—this time the tongue of fire reached out at least twenty feet.

"What a sight," a voice wheezed from behind her.

The fire disappeared in the same second that her shield flew up. She had not been concentrating on her connection, but she was now aware of how two very faint presences were only a few yards away.

Durga and Markii had broken through the trees to her right. Durga was heavily leaning on Markii; Kiethara was shocked to see how frail she looked. Her wispy hair was very thin while the veins popped from beneath her skin, which was extremely pale.

"Durga!" she gasped, her shield disappearing. "What are you doing here? You look so ill!"

The old lady grimaced and waved her words away with an angry flick of her hand. Markii tugged on her elbow, a gesture she seemed to understand. She slid down the trunk of the closest tree and into the grass with a groan. She leaned her head back and closed her wrinkled eyes.

Kiethara looked up at Markii alarmed. He answered her gaze with a shake of his head. As always, his features were emotionless, so she could not deduce how dismal the conditions were.

She stood there with them for a good few minutes in silence, practically bouncing on her heels in concern and curiosity. If Durga was sick, there was no reason for her to be traveling to the heart of the forest. How could Markii have allowed that?

"Ah, that's better," Durga sighed hoarsely, opening her eyes.

"Do you need anything? Water? Food?" Kiethara asked, walking forward.

"I have water right here," she murmured, reaching down and undoing her hip flask. She drank deeply from it before looking up.

"So how goes it, dear? How fairs the forest? Your eyes—ah, those eyes—have certainly seen more since my eyes last saw you. You do not look weak; no, you look strong. I've never seen such a built young lady. Have you, Markii?"

Markii just shook his head, his eyes roaming their surroundings.

"No, I didn't think so. It would be considered an oddity anywhere else, but here I call it a blessing. A very necessary blessing. How else would I be able to sleep at night?"

Durga coughed loudly and then settled back against the tree. "So, tell us."

Kiethara opened her mouth, but no words came out. For some reason, Durga's constant chatter always left her speechless.

"Don't hold your tongue, now, I'm dying to hear of your latest tale."

Kiethara internally flinched at the word _dying_. Hopefully, that was not her condition...But if it was a tale she wanted, it was a tale she would get.

"Markii told you everything that occurred during his visit, correct?"

"Oh, yes!" Durga slapped her knee, chuckling. "What a story that was! I envied the dear boy for such an adventure. To fight alongside the guardian is such an honor! Though against that man Swallin, I think not so much. Illusions and trickery are for the weak. Look at what happened—that just proves my words. He had no real skill as a warrior and, when he was forced to act like one, he faltered. You must give me your account on the fight—Markii is not very giving on the details."

"Really? It was he who landed the final blow."

"Not necessarily," Markii interjected, still not looking at them as he observed the trees. "You rendered him incapable."

"By setting him on fire."

"And what does that matter?"

"Everything," she said, rolling her eyes. "That was all I could do. You used some decency in your strike by ending it quickly."

"Ah, I believe I have the full picture now," Durga said. "I bid you worry not, child. Together the two of you brought him down, using tactics you knew wisely."

"Thank you," Kiethara said, cheeks reddening.

"It's good he is dead," she continued. "A powerful trick like that could harm a lot of people. Imagine if he made an illusion of a king to one of these kingdoms? He could create endless panic with one shadow, or take control of an entire nation with a single visage. We can only hope that his black art dies with him. I fear that is the only thing that will keep us safe. Yes, you did very well to kill him."

Kiethara blinked, surprised. She had never considered the different possibilities of Swallin's powers. Durga's words opened a whole new realm of horrid possibilities.

"That's a fair point," she mused, crossing her arms. "That might explain why Gandador seems to take over the kingdoms so fast. Slyness and deceit have always been his favorite tactics."

"Do you think Gandador knows how to manipulate magic in such a way?" Durga asked. "I've heard many stories about that man, but never ones of him using any type illusion."

"I don't think so," Kiethara pursed her lips, distracted. "What stories have you heard about him?"

"Oh, he's a hot gossip," Durga answered, waving her hand. "Most of it is pish posh, of course, but there were a few that raised the hairs on the back of my neck! Everyone knows that he mostly resides in Nikkoi—that kingdom is nearly vacant now—and they like to speculate what he's doing there. It's not exactly a castle, more like a barn. Let me ask you, if he has so much power, why is he bunkered down in that hole?"

Kiethara shook her head.

"Exactly! So some believe that Nikkoi is where he was born. They say he was born to a widow. When the widow saw what a horrible creature she had given birth to, she threw him down a well. But there was something in that well—something sinister and intoxicating—that stopped the child from dying. Dark magic. The child grew up in the tunnels, using the power that he had stumbled across. That's why he's so evil."

"Do you believe that?" Kiethara asked in doubt.

"Ah! I'm not finished yet. The reason he is in Nikkoi again is because of that hidden power. He alone knows what well to travel down, what tunnels to crawl through. They say under Nikkoi is his real kingdom, which one day he'll unleash on us like fires from hell!"

Kiethara blinked.

"A little dramatic, I know, but the general idea is plausible. Why else would he tie himself down there? Why not for a past influence or a guarded secret? Out of all the rumors out there, this one has something. Don't you agree?"

"I can't disagree," she hedged. "Honestly, the issue has never crossed my mind. I don't hear the things you hear, though I am greatly appreciative that you tell them to me. I'm not aware of the panic he creates outside the forest."

"Panic," Durga repeated, coughing. "That's the perfect word. Do you remember when I told you what your name meant?"

"Er...yes," Kiethara answered, not sure how relevant that was at the moment.

"Well, Gandador's name has meaning, too. 'Ganda' means gallop. 'Dor' means determine. So, in short, it means determined gallop, or to gallop determinedly. When a horse gallops through the land, what does it create?"

Kiethara thought long and hard, but she could not answer. There were a few wild horses in the forest, but nothing happened when they galloped. She had never seen a horse gallop in the kingdoms.

"Panic," Markii answered bluntly, surprising her. She had not realized he was listening.

"Exactly, good boy. _Panic_. A horse gallops to deliver urgent messages, to flee from pursuers, or to attack an enemy. Nothing good comes from a galloping horse unless it is matched with the sound of trumpets!"

"So that's what he is? A galloping horse?" she asked, half amused, half intimidated.

"Mhm," Durga murmured. "And for a galloping horse to settle in one state seems very unlikely. It has people on edge. They are waiting for...the horse to break into a gallop again, just as he did all those years ago."

Durga paused to cough heavily. "I'm rather proud of that conclusion, aren't you, Markii?"

"It accurately describes the mood of the people," he allowed.

"Well, they won't feel this way for long," Kiethara vowed. "The reign of Gandador will end."

Durga was silent; her eyes gazed up at Kiethara and scrutinized her.

"I hope you mean that," she said sternly. "Once he reined a horrible yoke on many people and then for a decade he hung low and corrupted his fellows. When we thought he was done and too old to move, he was training himself as well as others. Whatever scared him in this forest all those years ago sparked a thirst for revenge that I have never seen before. This time, when the guardian says it will end, please let it end."

"I-I...of course," Kiethara stuttered, surprised by the intensity of her words.

"Good," Durga wheezed. "I shall have Markii check in on you. Unfortunately, I don't believe I'll be able to manage travel to the forest any longer."

"Durga," Kiethara whispered, dropping to her knees in front of the old woman. "What's wrong? Is my potion not working?"

"No, that's not the problem," Durga chuckled softly. "I'm sure it works fine."

The old lady rummaged a hand in her beaded shawl and removed a small glass bottle. The cork was still sealed, the gold liquid still dancing inside. Kiethara understood in a heart beat.

"You didn't!" she exclaimed. "I gave you that potion to use! I have no need of it!"

"At this moment," Durga replied calmly, using Aaron's argument.

"I could always make some more!"

"In what bottle? And why waste such valuable time and magic?"

"Take it now!" she urged. "Then I will still have the bottle!"

"No, child," Durga replied sternly. "This is not a matter by which I can be persuaded or tempted. In case anything does happen, I do not want to be responsible for the guardian's fall because I left her unprepared. Could I bear such a shame onto my name and family? Never! Listen, my dear, this is not something you can cure."

"What is it?" she asked. "What are you suffering from?"

"Dear, this is no disease," Durga almost laughed. "My illness is old age; my remedy is death. My soul has worn its body through and through; it is time for it to find a new home."

Kiethara gaped at her, unable to comprehend what she was explaining.

"I know it seems unbelievably to you to consider death so lightly, especially since the sole purpose of your life is to survive; however, there is no consequence in the prospect for me. I have no complaints, besides my numerous regrets, and I feel it is my time. Markii is tired of carrying me around anyway, I believe."

Markii made an untranslatable grunt.

"Please don't say this!" Kiethara begged, grasping her hands. "I don't want you to die!"

"Thank you. You must not be worried or sorrowed by nature's curse, though. To tell you the truth, these bones ache terribly, until the point where living is more tedious than the grave. Do yourself some good, take this bottle from me, and do not forget your promises."

Durga pushed the small glass vial into her frozen hands and closed her fingers around it. Kiethara numbly squeezed her fingers around the cool glass and stood up.

"Help me up, boy," Durga barked, and Markii pulled her to her feet. The old lady groaned and coughed violently.

"A good talk. Enough to give me hope for the future. You're doing fine on your own, it seems."

"I could do better," Kiethara said in a low voice. She seemed incapable of any other volume.

"You could do no such thing. Now, we must part before the sun gets low. Let reason guide you. Markii will return soon and, when he does, make use of him," she paused, squinting up at Kiethara. "It was an honor to know you."

"Same to you," she whispered back through a constricted throat.

Durga turned and they began to depart. As they walked away, Kiethara heard Durga lean towards Markii and say:

"I will never forget those eyes."

CHAPTER 55

### CHEER

Kiethara spent the next few days in a sullen mood. A visit from Durga and Markii had always had a cheering effect, but this time it had left her spirits in dismal shape. There was a note of melancholy left in the air that she could not shake.

She tried to continue her scheduled training, but she had lost the gusto it once took to complete the arduous task. There was half the strength to the strike of her sword, the thorns on her vines were slightly duller, and halfway through the fire element her flames would simmer out. She had lost a handle on the motivation that drove her before.

The water element was the only thing that she did train increasingly well with. It was a curse and a blessing, her hardest element made easier by other's misfortune. Still, as she became more accustomed to using it, she did not need such a strong emotion.

All throughout the day, Kiethara caught herself musing upon Durga's words. She could not help asking herself: is Durga dead yet? Knowing that death was there but not knowing when it would strike was almost as bad as watching it in action. There was no way of knowing, no way of contacting them. All she could do was wait for Markii's return, a visit she would be dreading every day until it came.

This sullen mood kept up for a week, but on the seventh day, she realized it was not healthy. Between the weather—which consisted of an endless gray sky that bore no rain—and bleak prospects, all she did was sulk among the trees. This way of living was not benefiting the forest in anyway, nor her resolve to end her father's reign.

She had other priorities to focus on. One was Aaron's disappearance. She did not want to call it that, but it was true. Usually after any event or visit, he would show up with a hefty supply of wisdom, insight, and advice. This time, though, the forest remained quiet and void of any presence besides her.

Unfortunately, this only added to her anxieties, but she sought anything to raise her spirits. She took an hour just to fly, laughing as she let herself fall hundreds of feet and performing complex maneuvers. She took to teasing animals for entertainment. One day, she managed to tie a daisy to a squirrel's tail and then spent the next few hours chasing it through the trees.

These things created fine moments of levity, but none of them lasted; however, her answer came, sure enough.

Kiethara found herself lying in her hammock early in the morning, gazing up at the mountainous, billowing clouds that spotted the sky. The patches of sky that were visible threw rays of warm sun to the forest floor. She took a deep breath, basking in the lovely weather.

Almost unconsciously, her connection branched out from its normal reach. She allowed it, even encouraged it, for it was like stretching some internal muscle. She was beginning to really _feel_ the forest with it. Each tree was its own presence—very soft, though very numerous. The fruits that hung from some were tiny pinpricks of power, and whenever one fell Kiethara swore she felt a faint pluck in her mind. She felt all these normal aspects as her connection wandered, but then something far exceeding the norm caught her attention.

It was so faint she barely felt it, fainter than the distant trees by which it was surrounded. There were only a handful of these presences that she knew. One thing that was for certain: they did not use magic.

Her heart fluttered and her stomach dropped. One of these presences was Markii. Had the ill event occurred so soon? It was very unlikely that they had even reached their tribe yet.

There was no point in waiting to find out—this person was still hours away from her clearing. With that thought, Kiethara jumped into the air and took off to the east. The symbols on her trees lay useless now that she had such a reliable map in her head.

Soon she approached the intruder, her heart soaring as she spotted a mess of blond hair. Beaming, she landed silently in the trees above Navadar and watched his progress.

He was mounted on his horse, and together the two made slow progress through the treacherous roots. Kiethara followed silently from above, but after a few minutes they stopped, and he dismounted.

"Too thick to carry on, mate," he told his horse. From a pouch on the saddle he removed a long rope and tethered his horse. "Plenty of grass. I'll come back in...well, sometime."

To her utmost amusement, Navadar gave his ride a little wink before carrying on. Kiethara held her breath for a good few moments before breaking into a fit of giggles and jumping down from her branch.

"Now I wonder what he's expecting," she told his horse, who had given a snort at her appearance. "Let's just hope for his sake he likes what he gets."

And with that, she gave the horse her own little wink and silently moved through the trees after its master.

He had not gotten far, though his stride was purposeful and strong. She watched his back with pursed lips. How best to inform him of her presence? So many options...

She smiled and rose into the air. She bent her knees and positioned her feet over Navadar's shoulders. Quietly, now...

With a light thump, she landed lightly in a crouch on Navadar's shoulders.

"Boo!"

Navadar jumped violently with a slight cry, his hands flying up instinctively to grab her feet.

"Kiethara!" he laughed in surprise.

She flew off his shoulders and landed in front of him.

"Why, hello," she said, grinning.

He smiled back, scanning her over with his forest green eyes.

"Thank goodness I don't see any new scars."

She puckered her bottom lip. "You don't like my scars?" she teased.

"The scars I don't mind, it's how you got them! It pleases me to know the forest has been peaceful."

"Peaceful?" she snorted. "Just because I didn't get my flesh torn up doesn't mean there weren't any opportunities."

She watched his face with amusement as he made sense of her words.

"Wait...something did happen, then?"

"Let's not start with this now," she sighed. She loathed retelling her tales to Navadar.

"Oh, no! We have started this. I want to know!"

She rolled her eyes and danced away from him.

"Wait!" he called, hurrying after her.

"You'll have to catch me first if you want to hear anything!" Kiethara told him, weaving faster through the trees. She turned to send him a wink.

"Hide and seek, is it?" he asked with a grin.

Kiethara slowly rounded the trunk of a large spruce, peering out to see him a few feet away.

"Hide and what?" she asked.

"It's a child's game," he explained, turning towards her voice. He spotted her and lunged forward. She shrieked playfully, taking off like a gazelle through the tall grass.

It soon became obvious to her that she had the upper hand in this "child's game." She was in an unfamiliar area of the forest, but it was her nature to navigate swiftly through the ferns, limbs, and twisted roots. On top of that, if she focused hard enough, she could sense where Navadar was.

So she decided to have some fun.

As soon as she was certain he was following her, she reached up and pulled herself into a tree. She doubled back swiftly and landed softly behind a puzzled Navadar.

"So how do you play hide and seek?" she whispered in his ear. He whirled around and made a grab for her, but she twirled out of his reach and took off in another direction.

"Well, it's a little game," he explained from behind her as they pushed their way through the hanging vines. "Where one person, or a few, hides, while one is in charge of seeking them out."

Kiethara bit her lip and turned on her heel, torn on which way to head. Navadar was hot on her tail, beating away foliage a mere few feet away. She needed to turn him around. Grabbing a vine, and, with a little push of her magic, she swung herself around a tree. It worked perfectly, for Navadar continued forward, unaware that she was now to his left.

"So does that make me a hider or a seeker?" she called from behind the trunk. She held her breath as he paused in his pursuit.

"I believe that I..." He became very quiet, everything becoming unnaturally still. Kiethara's heart jumped to her throat.

"Am the seeker!" he called out in victory, right on the other side of the tree. His hands shot out on either side.

She let out a peal of laughter as she escaped his attempt to grab her. Her feet bounded lightly through the cool grass.

"Eh!" he called from behind her.

Kiethara leaped over a thin stream and used a flat rock to launch herself even further. Navadar was directly behind her, and she could not think of any new way to avoid him.

All of a sudden, the sound of his pursuit stopped. She kept running for a moment, laughing despite the fact she was out of breath, and then began to slow down. There were no quiet footsteps, no breaking twigs. In the distance there was the sound of rushing water, barely audible to her over her labored breathing.

She then heard what she was looking for—the light thuds of boots on soft grass. It was directly to her right.

She gasped and made to flee, but it was too late. Strong, sure hands shot out and grabbed her by the waist.

She squirmed, but it was in vain attempt. He pulled her close and tightened his grip.

"How long were you planning on torturing me? Hm?" he asked in a low voice, his nose trailing a line on her neck. She tried to suppress a shiver of delight.

"Just a bit longer," she said, closing her eyes and allowing a smile to spread across her face. "I don't think I'm good at hide and seek."

"You were wonderful. I'm just a better seeker."

"You've had experience, so it wasn't a fair fight," she pointed out.

"You've really never played?" he asked in surprise.

"Never. It wasn't like I could split myself in two. I don't think this game can be played with one."

"Oh, that's right," he said, sounding a bit embarrassed.

"Navadar!" she chided with a laugh. "I thought the massive forest would be reminder enough."

"Is that where we are?" he chuckled, running a hand through her hair.

Kiethara was beginning to pick up on his mood—she had been there herself for quiet some time. She turned to face him, which he allowed, repositioning his hands to her face. Their lips met with quiet joy.

Her worries, her pains...they all dissolved as she gave herself into the feelings Navadar sparked inside her. Her nerves were alive; she felt everything. Navadar's warm body heat was the perfect antidote to the cool breeze that wafted through the leaves. She felt like singing with the birds that called out around her. Her heart thrummed with the rhythm of the rushing water in the distance...

Rushing water?

Kiethara broke away from Navadar and cocked her head. Was there a river nearby? She did not spend much time away from the center of the forest. Her curiosity was too great for her to stem.

"Do you hear that?" she whispered.

"Hmm?" he murmured, trying to reach her lips again.

She giggled and put a finger to his mouth. "Listen!"

"A river?" he suggested after a minute. He did not seem as interested in the mystery as she was.

"That's what I think, but it's so loud," she mused. "Come, let's see!"

She grabbed his hand and led him forward. Her footsteps were careful as they followed the sound, which grew more deafening as they got closer.

"Don't you know what it is?" he asked loudly.

"No, I've never been in this area!"

"Well, whatever it is, it's not a river!" he yelled. The sound had increased into a roar.

Kiethara pushed aside a curtain of moss, took a step forward, and gasped.

It was certainly no river. Reaching the height of at least fifty feet, a massive waterfall stood a mere ten yards away.

The sight was a sight like no other. The water was tumbling off a spectacular rock formation—a cliff, though not a sharp one. It rounded gracefully, coated in a fine layer of moss. Strikingly, the gallons continued into a deep pool below it. Lumps of rocks sat in the bubbling pond, ever changing from the constant pounding they received. The colors of the scene were so rich: deep blues and foaming whites of the water, sleek earthy tones on the rocks, and the vibrant greens of the moist foliage. The waterfall was simply mesmerizing. It kept the two rooted to the spot for several long minutes.

After the shock abdicated some, a feeling of excitement blossomed inside Kiethara. Could such a place like this really exist? She felt as though she had stepped into a different world, leaving the forest behind the curtain of moss they had ventured through. Sixteen years later and she was still stumbling upon marvels. It certainly made life worth living, knowing that at any moment she could discover one of the countless gems her home had to offer.

"Marvelous," Kiethara breathed, taking a step forward.

Navadar copied her slight movement, but he could not seem to find his tongue. His eyes were wide as he drank it in, his head shaking slowly back and forth as though he were denying it.

"Spectacular!" she laughed, throwing up her arms and throwing back her head. A white rose blossomed unnoticed at her feet. "Tell me, Navadar, how does this compare to your gold statues and grand walls?"

"Compare?" he asked loudly, raising his hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun off the water. "By far, the only beauty that can stand to compare with this is you!"

Reflexively, she turned her head towards him. There eyes met as she blushed. It was her turn for her words to be caught in her throat.

Navadar walked forward until his chest was but a hairs breath away. Her heart thumped unevenly as she gazed up at him.

"Would you like to take a swim with me?" he asked huskily, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear.

The way he said it, the way he looked down on her, the way he touched her...it made her feel hideously exposed. As though he was able to see every inch of her being. Part of herself was telling her to hide and run, to seek shelter from his all too penetrating gaze. Another part, however, told her that she had no reason to be afraid. Her insides squirmed.

"I-I..." she stuttered in a quiet voice, her unblinking eyes unable to leave his face.

"Is that a yes?" he chuckled.

Navadar's confidence sparked her own pride. There was something almost arrogant about the posture he held in front of her.

"Absolutely," she told him, jerking her chin up.

He grinned at her new countenance. He began to undo the leather strap that held his bow to his back, and she did the same with her sword and her potions. As she hung them on the branch, she watched Navadar from the corner of her eye. As soon as he hung up his weapon, he stripped off his tunic and his boots, so he wore only his trousers.

A wave of heat flashed across her face. She suddenly felt very self conscious. She only wore her dress, and when it got wet it was not the most modest attire...

Swallowing back her nerves, she turned to Navadar with a forced smile. But as soon as she got a good look at him, the embarrassed heat in her smoldered into something else and her smile became quiet real.

His chest and stomach were rippled with lean muscle; it was quite a sight, one that sent such intense feelings through her. Was this love? No one else had ever made her crave them in this way.

"I hope it's warm," she called to him as she tied back her long hair with a blade of grass.

"I think we'll manage to keep warm," he suggested shrewdly, smiling as he walked backwards towards the bank of the small lake. He threw his arms up. "Coming?"

She took a small breath. Breathe! Relax! It's only Navadar, she told herself. Her smile widened as an idea struck her and, with a push of her feet, she flipped through the air. The gift of flight allowed her to soar over Navadar and land, flat-footed and steady, on an exposed rock in the water. Navadar's head whipped around so fast that she giggled.

"Are you?" she mocked from her rock.

"Clever," he noted, wading into the water.

"It is warm!" he called, almost in surprise. He did not hesitate in charging the rest of the way in. He disappeared under the water for a moment, reappearing at the bottom of the rock she stood on, shaking hair and water out of his face. "Now stop tantalizing me from up there and come down!"

She laughed and took a light step off the rock. Before she had a chance to really fall, he caught her by the waist. The water took her in hungrily.

He was right; it was warm. Much warmer than the water in her bathing lake. She sank into it easily. Underneath the surface she could feel the water pushing and pulling her, swirling from the force of the waterfall. Swimming would be neigh impossible, along with going anywhere near the waterfall. It was gorgeous, but she knew it could be deadly. If ever caught in the pummeling falls, it would push her down and keep her there until her drowned.

That did not hinder their enjoyment, though. Navadar and she leaned against the many rocks surrounding them, soaking in the refreshing pool.

"What a place," Navadar declared, leaning his head back against a rock.

"Mm," she agreed. "If it weren't for you, I would have never found it."

"Not necessarily. I didn't really care about the noise before and I've passed fairly close by numerous times on my way to see you. It surprises me that something so huge can stay hidden like this, though."

"It only hides from those who never look," she reasoned. He laughed.

"I wish you would kiss me with those wise lips."

"Oh? How bad?"

"Bad enough," he playfully growled, turning from his rock and gently grabbing her. She gasped happily and wrapped her arms around his neck. Their lips met eagerly, and for several long moments Kiethara succumbed to a feeling of pure bliss.

Soon, however, the kiss turned into something else. Almost unconsciously, she ran her hands over his shoulders and down his chest, exploring its muscular planes. He groaned softly and moved his hand to the small of her back, the other to her waist.

They broke apart for a moment, breathing heavily. She inhaled his scent; it smelled of freshly baked bread and another aroma she could not name. It reminded her of the kingdoms and, although the memory left a bitter taste in her mouth, she still found the smell intoxicating.

As their lips found each other again, his hand crawled upward and cupped her breast. Her mind was unsure about this new touch, but her body had no such confusion. She no longer seemed to be in control.

She really did not want to be.

A few more minutes melted by before they broke apart again. They leaned back against the rocks, breathing heavily.

"How is Redawn?" she asked after a peaceful silence. Navadar picked up her hand and started playing with it.

He began to say something, but she could not hear him over the falls.

"What?" she asked loudly.

"It fairs," he said with more volume. "However, shadows are beginning to stretch over its walls. The king is getting stricter about magic—he has already hung six people who were caught using it. The streets are patrolled by armed men. Doors are closed at night; goods are guarded with lock and key. The entire government is on edge and people are panicking."

"Why?"

"No one knows why the army is suddenly up and active!" Navadar told her, his eyebrows pulling together. "There is no obvious threat, no opposing force to be seen. All we can hear are rumors. Some rumors are plausible and some are blown widely out of proportion. It's hard, not knowing what is true or not. A death here, a missing person there...that's all there is. But its enough to push the king's hand and drive them into frenzy."

Kiethara's heart sank. Durga's story had been similar.

"I know its Gandador, even if no one else does. On my way through Nikkoi, I was surprised to find that everyone there seemed to know he is pushing for a second rule. They all know it, but they do nothing. The lack of certainty is driving its toll. People in Nikkoi know he's there, but they just don't know _where_. They can do nothing but wait for something to happen. Nikkoi has lost hope, Redawn does not realize what is happening...it is madness."

"He's finally putting his crazed plan into motion," she said, shaking her head. "The last time he came here, he told me he wanted to create this...empire. A mass of kingdoms, all under his rule. They would all use magic, the forest's magic. He no longer has plans to just rule the forest; he wants to set the power free and rule the world."

Navadar shook his head too. "What really bothers me is how well it is working. Can he set your magic free?"

"I...don't know," she admitted lamely. Navadar looked worried.

"What does your father say?" she asked, trying to change the subject off her power.

"Oh, he's just worried about the king ordering a new supply of weapons," Navadar said scornfully, rolling his eyes. "He sees the army march out and his reaction is to hurry up and sweep his shop!"

Kiethara laughed heartily at the image and, as soon as she started, she could not stop. She clutched her side and threw back her head. Soon, he was laughing with gusto as well.

"I like...his approach..." she gasped between chuckles. Navadar laughed loudly.

As she laughed, Kiethara reflected on how long it had been since she last laughed like this. She had been desperate for a cheer, and here it was.

Little did she know how much she would need it in the future.

CHAPTER 56

### LEGEND

Kiethara sat cross legged by her hammock, working her hands over the ground. She was growing herself lunch—potatos, to be exact. The sun was warm and inviting, as were her thoughts as they kept happily drifting to the previous day.

Navadar had stayed well into the evening, but they never strayed from the waterfall. Who would, given the choice? It was a beauty beyond comparison; Kiethara did well to mark its location in her memory so she would be able to find it again. It was a little further than she was used to traveling from the center, but that would not hinder her from future visits. It would be so nice to take a bath in its warm waters compared to her usual tepid lake...

Kiethara took a large bite out of a plump potato and let her thoughts linger on the feel of Navadar's lips...Her insides squirmed happily. He made her feel alive in ways she could not explain! He made her smile in a way that felt so natural; he made her laugh even when the situation was ominous. He could take her mind off the bleak matters that usually filled it.

Navadar's recent visit brought on a whole new round of things to be considered. After she defeated Gandador—which she was determined to do now that she realized how he was affecting the ones she loved—what would happen? Hopefully, her life would return to the peaceful state it had once been in. Once it did, would he stay with her? Then they could raise—

"Kiethara..."

She jumped at the sound of her name. It had been whispered by Aaron, but from where, she could not tell. She jumped to her feet and spun around, but she appeared alone.

"Kiethara," it called hoarsely. "Hurry...to the center of the forest. Do not delay..."

His voice was so faint, so weak! Her heart froze in her chest at the sound of it.

"I'm coming, Aaron!" she cried. Panic exploded in her chest as she took off from the ground and tore through the air. Her hair whipped wildly around her as she raced towards what she could only presume to be some great doom, some frightful catastrophe. Her shield materialized around her.

She landed hard on the lush grass. The clearing was empty; the lake smooth as glass. The air was unnaturally still and untouched by any disturbances.

"Aaron?"

His response came like a whisper from the wind.

"Listen well, Kiethara, and hold your tongue. I have much to say, little time to do so, and it is essential that you hear every word."

"What?!" she spluttered in alarm. Her hand dropped to the pommel of her sword. The wind ripped through the clearing, rippling the glassy surface to her right. The golden sphere around her refused to disappear.

Questions flashed through her mind faster than lightening lit up a stormy sky. What in the world was going on? Why was Aaron talking as though he feared to be overheard, when her connection told her they were quite alone? And why could she not see him? She took heed to his words, however, and bit the torrent of queries back.

"You have always known my presence, Kiethara," he continued. "You have never questioned it, never reflected on how abnormal it was, even for the forest. You might not realize this, but the only other guardian who spent any amount of time with me was my son, who died thousands of years ago.

"I have come quite close to explaining the mechanics of a guardian's death, but now you will know every truth. When a guardian dies, they do not necessarily pass on; in other words, their presence does not leave. It cannot leave, because their spirit is still harvesting the magic it held the moment they died. Only until they use that power up completely are they able to join their ancestors.

"Each guardian dies with magic. Depending on how much they had before they died, they can linger for a day, a month, or several years. Some decide to expel it all as soon as they can so that they will be allowed to pass on. Some, like your mother, save it and use it little by little until they run out. She had just enough power to talk to you those three times—twice in the lake and once in your sleep. None have enough to last very long or accomplish much. Regular beings outside the forest do not have enough to linger for more than a moment.

"My case, however, was much different.

"To explain it to you properly, I must tell you my legend first. A legend few are blessed to hear, so listen well."

Kiethara's mouth had fallen open, her shield had disappeared. She had sunk to her knees as she drank in every softly uttered word, eyes fixed on the space around her. She could feel his presence in the air now, almost shimmering around her.

"Most of it I scant remember," he began in a longing whisper. "The finer details have long since faded from my mind. I have managed to cling on to some of the more important aspects of my life, which I will tell to you now.

"I lived right by the sea. When I was just a boy, there were only six beings present in my world, two of them being my parents. We lived in a circle of small tepees while we fed off the water and the fields around us. There were no kingdoms or tribes; there was hardly a population.

"My mother was a fine woman. I remember her laugh the clearest, for that was all she did. She would tease my father, the others, me, and even the animals. My father would laugh along with her, just as good natured as she was. But he was also a very wary and cautious man. He feared the unknown. That fear was so great that he forbid anyone to wander farther than our flocks. He lashed me hard one day—the mere age of seven, I was—when I managed to toddle too far away from him.

"Yet he could not contain me or my curiosity for long. When I became a young man, I decided to disobey my father's one command and explore the lands beyond the horizon. I left in the dead of night and I never saw those six people again. I don't even remember their names."

A note of melancholy blackened his low tones. She could tell how much he yearned for his lost family, even though they both knew his separation from them led him to the forest.

"I headed dead west with a single sack on my back, filled with nothing but water skins, a cooking pot, and some spices. The only weapon I held was a spear. In short, I was ill prepared for my journey and it was not long before I began to despair that those plains would never end. I lost my spear the very next day and ran out of water before sunrise.

"Days later, I finally reached the forest.

"It was not what you see now. It was a wild, ferocious thing. Magic drenched the air and pumped from the trees, which grew twisted and quickly, with their vines whipping through the air and the grass growing towards the heavens.

"What happened then I cannot explain. I barely survived it. I managed, somehow, to make my way to the center, even though the entire time the massive power was taking control of me. I was forced to take it into my body; it consumed me and, if I had not been in my prime age and fitness, the strength of it would have killed me.

"I managed to hang on just long enough to realize how to release the magic that was threatening to explode inside me. At that moment, I had been filled with the greatest fear I had ever felt, for surely I was about to die, but then I _used_ that. Somehow, I managed to make that an outlet for the colossal power that was about to crush me. The wind ripped through the sky, but it still wasn't enough. I was being force-fed too much magic without enough emotion to get rid of it. I tried, almost unconsciously, to work out a way to get it out. A shield burst forward, just like the one you have perfected now.

"I started to go mad. I screamed with rage, cursing myself for not listening to my father. In my anger, I managed to create tongues of blazing fire. They scorched everything within a fifty foot radius.

"On top of becoming afraid and enraged, I was filled with a great grief. Was I to be killed? Would the magic ever release me? It began to rain then; black, thunderous clouds had filled the sky. Lightening flashed and great booms and clashes deafened me.

"That made me smile.

"You might call me insane; I would not blame you if you did. I was insane—drunk by my alien surroundings. But when I saw that enormous storm that I had created, I loved it. All my life I had felt small and powerless against my environment, but there in the forest, I finally controlled it. This feeling of immensity and happiness caused the scorched ground to grow green again.

"As I said, I remember little. Eventually my body adapted and I was able to house an unbelievable amount of magic inside me without having to expel it. The forest bent towards my will almost eagerly. Like that, I became its father.

"Once my... _position_ was established, or so to say, I was able to manicure the forest. I reigned in the magic, allowing it small outlets like the fruit that grows from the trees and the water that flows through the streams. No longer could you absorb it from the air if you were to enter it like I had that very first time.

"Enemies began to cross my path soon enough, but they were pathetic compared to my power. Nothing could stand in my way. I was so attached to the forest that I could sense it, feel it, and feel anybody inside it. The connection you have now grew inside me as though the forest had planted its roots inside my skull.

"One fated day, a beautiful lady entered the forest. She came with a pair of oxen, dragging a cart full of the finest treasures in the world. We met, and we fell in love.

"Now, one of her most prized possessions was a sword her father had crafted. It was a gargantuan blade, the cross piece adorned with the largest crystal I had ever seen."

"Your sword," Kiethara whispered.

"Right you are. It was some weapon. Intimidation was my blade—it stabbed at the hearts of my foes. I owe my love much for that.

"I also owe her for her craft. She was skilled at making finery: bracelets, in particular. She crafted me a pair to wear on my arms so I could hold even more magic. Thus came the idea for the guardian's crystals. She made hundreds upon hundreds with her treasures and gave them to me, to store and save for our descendants."

Kiethara then realized why Aaron was telling her his legend. It was the origin of _everything_.

"You don't need to know how I established the guardians. I had a son, and he had a daughter...things followed the same pattern and rituals were established. For instance, when the time comes, you must have your baby in the guardian's lake. That is key."

"The lake?" she asked before she could stop herself.

"There your child will experience what is necessary to become a guardian and, when they turn thirteen, you will take them to the mountains to retrieve their bracelets. You received yours at the age of three due to the special circumstances. But all of our guardian's treasures lie where you got your sword. Do not forget that."

Kiethara nodded.

"Now, back to my original point. So this is how I came to be. And to this day, not a single guardian has possessed half of the amount of magic I had. When I died, I had enough power to let me live on for another thousand years as if nothing were amiss; however, I was wise. Instead of expelling it, I held on to it and remained just a single whisper over the years. I used as little as possible, watching over my forest and my descendants. It was a good thing I did, or the forest may have fallen when your mother died.

"I used the remainder of my power to raise you, to guide you. I became a father to you just as you became a daughter to me. But it has cost me and, after all these years of lingering, now I must pass on."

When the words finally sunk in, Kiethara could feel her world begin to shatter around her. Everything went silent except for the frantic thudding of her heart. Her thoughts, her plans, her way of life...they were brutally breaking and shattering before her navy blue eyes. Her head spun as she tried to grasp the prospect; her mind frantically rearranging the reality it had once been accustomed to.

Never had she once considered something like this. Out of every fanciful daydream and dwelled-upon nightmare, it had never once been considered. Aaron... _gone_? No, it simply could not be. He had always been there at her side, invincible, unwavering, and what she had always thought as immortal. There was no possible way that could be the case. That for the first time in her life, she would truly be alone in the forest.

The forest around her suddenly seemed like a mighty stranger. No longer did she see a warm, familiar home that she had come to love. Now that she was forced to see it without Aaron there, it seemed so vast and so cold, as though it cared nothing for her fate or its own. It would remain the same even though its father, its creator, was about to pass on forever. Kiethara could not see how it would not simply wither and die once he was gone. That was exactly what she felt like doing. Suddenly, the forest did not seem alive like its own being, but dead and inanimate with its lack of feeling.

Dead.

Was that what Aaron was doing? Dying? A guardian, it seemed, was condemned to die two deaths. One like a human, the other like a force of nature. It was almost cruel.

Now that she was enlightened, she knew she should have read the signs. She had noticed him growing dimmer and dimmer. His appearances had become scarcer these past months. He had slowly slipped from training her himself to instructing her to do it on her own. Compared to years in the past, she had barely seen him at all! Still, she had never imagined not seeing him again. She had never contemplated life without Aaron.

And now her light—her hopes, her faith, her strength, her mentor, her family—was about to fade forever.

A broken sob escaped her pale lips.

"Listen to me, Kiethara. I must ask you to hold on to your reason for my few remaining moments. I still need to tell you many things. Will you listen?"

She pressed her lisp together and nodded.

"You are powerful, Kiethara, more so than you could ever imagine. Do you remember, almost a year ago, when the forest was set on fire? That was your doing. You caused the storm. You set the fire."

"W-What?!" she spluttered, a few tears running down her cheeks. She shook her head, overwhelmed.

"Your emotions, Kiethara! They are more tied to your actions—whether unvoluntary or not—than you could ever imagine. You were angry with me for disapproving of Navadar, sorrowed when you thought I left, and fearful of what might come to pass. Those three emotions were felt with such intensity that they called forth a power you did not know you had—to manipulate the weather. The winds, the rains, and the lightening. Wind, water, and fire. Fear, sorrow, and anger.

"With that in mind, I urge you to take control. Give yourself limitations or the power will kill you. Give yourself boundaries or your reason will wander. You can destroy the world if you wanted to. I have spoken to you about magical blasts. One lapse in control and you will no longer have any control over yourself or your magic. The force of the forest and your magic will be what controls you if you allow that to occur. _Do not let this happen!_ You _must_ exercise control! Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Aaron," she promised with a sob.

"I never got to teach you how to disappear or reappear like Gandador can, but I think you can manage without it. Gandador has weaknesses, Kiethara—it is not helpless. Beware, though. He is cunning and, as much as I hate to admit it, his plans are plausible. If he finds the right opportunity, he just might make one work. You must kill him. I never meant to force you into committing such a crime, but you _must_ kill him. You have no other choice.

"Now you know. Heed my words, my orders, and my warnings. The forest depends on you, my daughter."

All of a sudden, the clearing was filled with light. It was a magnificent light, one filled with so many things that could not be spoken. When her eyes adjusted, she made out Aaron. He stood right in front of her, his figure so faint that it resembled just another ray of sunlight filtering in through the trees. But throbbing off of him were such emotions that she had no doubt it was a real person that stood there, one who was proud of having such a life and such a legacy. He had no reason to bow his shoulders, no reason to hide his face in shame. His mere presence sent such a spike of adrenaline and awe through her veins that she could do nothing but gape at him, even though she knew she only had seconds left.

He walked forward. His hands reached out and—to her great astonishment—a strong grip pulled her to her feet. Her crystals lit up like two individual stars strapped to her wrists.

He pulled her into a tight embrace which sent a cry of despair through her. She sobbed and held him tight; two beings of magic becoming one.

"Farwell, Kiethara," he whispered. "Guard the forest."

And with a sudden blast of magic that made her gasp as she was forced to drink it in, he faded before her eyes, all of his light melting into the sunlight. With him it seemed everything faded: all hope, all magic. Everything.

Everything except his legend.

CHAPTER 57

### STORM

"No!"

Kiethara fell on her hands and knees as Aaron's embrace disappeared. She let out a cry as her crazed eyes wildly scanned the empty air around her.

" _No!"_

The clearing was dark. Above her, a mass of deep purple and gray clouds had settled over the sun. Could not one light go without being extinguished? She felt herself go mad as she stumbled to her feet. Everything was empty; not a single presence could be felt but her own. She found herself deep in her connection, searching for anyone. There was no one. She could not even hear the animals.

"NO!"

She was sobbing freely now. She pulled at her waist long hair and howled. This could not be! It was a dream, a nightmare! It had to be! There was no other explanation. It simply _could not be!_

She could not comprehend what was happening. She could not understand the pain that was ripping through her. Why was she hurting? There was no reason...nothing was wrong, because he could not be gone.

All she had to do was find him. Yes, she thought, that made sense.

She turned to the lake. Once again, the surface was as still and as smooth as glass. Before she dived in, she caught sight of her reflection. Her eyes were bugging, set wide with flowing tears, while her hair flew chaotically around her pale, flushed skin. For a moment, she did not recognize herself.

The water was frigid. That didn't stop her from propelling herself down as fast as she could to reach the bottom, her limbs working ferociously. As there were no rays of sunlight to filter through the water, the only light came from her crystals. Their luminosity cast the graveyard with eerie shadows, causing Kiethara to shiver as her feet hit the sand.

There was nothing here. The tombs sat dumbly in mindless rows, while the big boulder engraved with inscriptions sat in the gloom. And just like the clearing above her, it was empty.

Mind-spinning, heart-crushingly _empty_.

Kiethara shook her head, her lips parted in wordless denial.

She kicked off the sand and blasted through the murky water and out of the lake. Some small part of her noticed that she had much more magic then she was used to. That small realization disappeared as soon as she made her way into the sky. There she stopped, hovering over her entire world. Green stretched from horizon to horizon, met only by unyielding gray clouds.

"Aaron!" she called, cupping her hands around her mouth.

Nothing. The winds played with her hair and pulled at the white fabric of her dress.

"AARON!" she screamed. A flock of birds took off from the trees below with cries of their own.

Again, he did not appear.

"No," she whispered.

There was nothing left to do, no where left to look. It was over.

The sky above her ripped open at the exact same time her heart did.

There was a deep rumble, and then the rain began to fall. It did not just fall, but it _poured_ , rolling out of the clouds in massive sheets, mixed with heavy pieces of hail that fell to the earth below. It all came down so hard that it drove Kiethara down to the surface.

She hit the ground hard, splattering mud in every direction. She did not—could not—lift herself out of the filth. It was not the physical pain of the fall that crippled her, but a pain much worse.

As massive as the raging storm around her, it tore through her without mercy. With each tremor that rocked her, each tear that drenched her like rain, she was blown away by the sheer force of it. Could it be possible to hurt like this with no physical abrasions? Could she survive to lose so much?

Kiethara felt it inside her: the deep, raw ache in her chest. It stabbed at her lungs, pounded on her heart, and constricted her throat. She wanted to claw open her rib cage and extract the poison that was incapacitating her.

It wasn't until her shield appeared around her did she realize why she was trembling so violently. Her tears, her sobs...those were for the loss of a father, a friend, and a guide. But on top of that mountain of grief, fear began to bubble inside her.

Life without Aaron...Kiethara closed her eyes at the thought. She shuddered as she realized that she would never hear his voice again or have his advice to soothe her worries. That itself punched a hole in her chest; he would never be there for her again.

But the forest without Aaron...she cringed. Kiethara had never felt this alone before. Not like this—where she could feel the empty, silent forest closing in around her. There was nothing standing between her and Gandador, nothing to help her if things turned bad. She was on her own, more so than she had ever been before.

There was no one to hear her scream if Gandador managed to lay his hands on her.

Kiethara retched in the grass. For the first time, Kiethara was convinced she would fail.

Kiethara curled up on her side, letting hysterical sobs rip through her chest. Unlike usual, the golden protection encasing her held no comfort. Its strong glow only reminded her of another strong glow, one that was forever lost. Another source of protection that would never help her again.

Maybe that was all her future was now—a certainty of failure. The great guardian Kiethara would be remembered as would be one who let the forest fall, the one who would bring certain doom on the world. That would be her legend.

Kiethara, through the haze of her relentless tears, was mildly surprised to find that that reality did nothing to her. It did not make her any more depressed; it did not stir anymore anger. She noted it with numb acceptance. Would it be that bad? It would be the end of magic, definitely, but not the end of the world. Redawn did not depend on magic. They would survive. Humanity would survive. Everyone else would only have to adjust. Once it happened, people like Gandador would not exist. When the forest goes, they both go: light magic and dark magic. Without light magic, they would use their daily comforts and techniques. Without dark magic, they would lose their daily threats and fears that have plagued them for generations.

For Redawn, their lives would only improve. For the rest of the world, they could endure. For people like her father, well, they deserved to die.

Her shield disappeared. She remained curled up in a ball, the rain pelting her already drenched body and stinging her exposed skin.

She wasn't afraid anymore. Either way, it did not matter. She died? She had already figured out that the world just might be better off. She would be reunited with her mother, Aaron...The worst thing left for her was being stuck in this forest alone for any longer.

Another wave of misery washed over her.

Accepting the concept of death was not simple. It was not something someone could do with equanimity. Even the bravest of warriors became woebegone when faced with that certainty. To crush all feelings of self-preservation, to ignore such a powerful instinct...it went against nature. And nature was the only thing she knew.

She could only continue to weep, for currently, that was the only thing she knew.

She lamented her loss, her pain, and her onerous position. Kiethara did not like pity, especially when it was her own pity directed at herself, but she could not help it. Lying here, pathetic and sniveling, made her more disgusted with herself than she had ever been before. She was a guardian. The power she held should not be wallowing in the mud.

But even so, she could not find the will to do anything about it.

Some small part of her mind—the only part that was sane—noted that time was passing. Whether the past excruciating moment had been a minute or an hour, though, she could not tell.

It was not until she heard a cry from behind her did she realize how much time had actually passed.

"Kiethara!" it called through the downpour. It sounded so far away. She barely heard it over the sob that came out of her mouth.

It called again, clearer now. This time, she numbly tuned it out. She could not think through the immense haze that clouded her reason.

"Kiethara!" it gasped, quite close now.

She could not comprehend who it was, or what she should do. What could she do? She had decided a long time ago that she was not ever going to move again.

Suddenly, warm, tender hands grabbed her upper arm. She flinched violently, keeping her eyes closed. Another sob escaped. Had Gandador come so soon?

"Kiethara," Navadar's voice whispered.

She opened her eyes in disbelief. Navadar's face swam in her vision, blurred between the tears and the rain.

"What happened?" he yelled over the downpour, his features twisted into an expression of alarm and pain. "Are you hurt?"

Navadar.

It was as if she had resurfaced. It was an accurate description, for she had been drowning in despair. She had lost her reason, her sanity, and pure logic as her thoughts had sunk into the blackest abyss.

Yet here he was! A reason why she should not die, why she should not let the forest fall .If he had not found her...she would have been lost forever.

With that thought in mind, she found the will to move. She reached up and wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling herself into his chest and holding on to him with everything she had. She was afraid that if she let go, he might slip away and leave her stranded in this insanity. She continued to weep into his shoulder blade.

"Oh, honey..." he said in a broken whisper. His hand reached to her waist and unbuckled her sword, removing her potions as well. He sat back and cradled her to his chest like a toddler, rubbing her back rhythmically as he wiped her hair from her face.

Part of Kiethara wanted to recoil from such contact. It made her feel so weak and vulnerable, a feeling she had never felt before. She was always the one who did the protecting.

But the other part of her could not let go. It was too busy rejoicing.

It was not rejoicing joyfully, but bitterly. She was so relieved to find that she was not alone. Things were still bad—but not the worst. Aaron had been almost everything; his departure had taken so much. A massive black hole, left by his absence, seemed to consume her as it dragged her in.

Navadar was the cliff she was clinging to with all her might.

He was her rock, the grip that kept her from falling into pieces. Well, into any more pieces. Some pieces would never be retrieved. Aaron's death had shaken her too hard, had broken too much. But Navadar was stable.

Again, time seemed to slip away from her. As she soaked Navadar's clothes, the same clothes he had been wearing when he left, the forest began to darken by minute degrees. The sun was still not visible through the massive blanket of clouds, but the sky was turning from gray to black. She was surprised to find the day was almost over. But then she asked herself...had it really been just this morning when Aaron had left her? Time was playing with her as it galloped towards the inevitable and dragged itself along at an almost painful rate.

But the passing time began to truly mean something to her. Her sobbing began to quiet, her tears began to relent...it was as if she was reentering reality. It was not the same world she was used to, now that it was missing something so important. She was at least able to think, to rein some control over herself.

Above her, it finally stopped raining.

Aaron's words resounding through her head, sending stabbing pangs through her heart. He had warned her that this was possible. She could create storms and goodness knows what else. Now that common sense returned, she felt ashamed for such foolishness. What if she had set the forest on fire...again?

Kiethara took a deep, shaky breath as her tears finally stopped.

She raised her head off Navadar's shoulder slowly, her body still shaking, pushing her hair out of her face. She was afraid to look him in the eyes...What would he think, now that he had seen her so broken? So weak?

She looked up. His handsome green eyes were anxious as they met hers, worried lines etched into his forehead. She did not know what to do. On one hand, she wanted to tell him there was no need to worry, that he need not be anxious. But she couldn't. The words would not come and, frankly, she did not feel like lying to him anyway.

Things, certainly, were not fine. There was every reason to worry.

"I..."she began, but her voice was hoarse. She cleared her throat and began again. "I..."

Kiethara trailed off, unsure how to continue. How could she explain why he found her in such a state? She did not want to utter the reason aloud—it made it final. Absolute.

Navadar ran a thumb over her cheek. It was still wet. He seemed at a loss for words, too.

Kiethara looked away. She looked over the gloomy sight before her: the still lake, reflecting the oppressing clouds above, with patches of yellow grass staining the emerald sea...had she done that? She must have. She bit her lip, fighting back a wave of torture that threatened to bring back the endless tears.

"I don't know what happened," Navadar began slowly. "But if I can do anything, tell me. I can't bear to see you like this. I...can help."

His voice wavered towards the end, cracking under some intense emotion. Her face twisted in pain as she realized she was hurting him, too.

If anything, she had to be strong for him. If there was any reason to pull herself out of the mud and face her problems, it was to keep Navadar from any pain. He had already done so much for her. She looked up at him and tried to smile, but her lips wouldn't quite respond.

She placed a hand on his cheek. "You've already done so much."

He placed a hand on top of hers. It felt nice, warm.

Reassuring.

She had to tell him. She could see the curiosity burning behind his eyes; feel the effort he was putting forth not to ask.

"Aaron"—her voice cracked horribly on the name, unnaturally high—"is gone."

At first, his expression was one of confusion and bewilderment.

"Gone?" he asked.

Kiethara took another deep breath, focusing on nothing else but keeping herself in control. She swallowed against the lump in her throat, eyes stinging fiercely.

How could she answer that question? Tell him that Aaron was dead? That would only confuse him more, she was sure of it. She did not think she had it in her to explain to him the complex works of a guardian's death. She did not want to.

They were her secrets, secrets that concerned only the guardians. Although she had forgiven her mother, Kiethara could not deny the irreparable harm Earthaphoria had caused by telling Gandador almost everything. She would not make the same mistake. Navadar would only be better off if he knew as little as possible, anyway.

"His spirit is gone. Faded," she whispered, her chest heaving. "He has passed on, forever."

She heard Navadar inhale sharply, but she did not turn towards him to see the comprehension light across her face.

He took his hands and placed them on either side of her face, turning it towards him. She did not lift her eyes to meet his. She couldn't decide if she wanted to be comforted by him. She had never made herself this vulnerable before.

But Kiethara could not keep her eyes downcast for long. When she looked up, she saw exactly what she had feared to see: pity.

"I'm so sorry, Kiethara," he murmured. "He was like a father to you, wasn't he?"

She nodded, unwilling to answer. Her lips were pressed together as she fought back a sob.

"Listen, I don't know your pain," he said. "I wouldn't' dare pretend to understand what you're going through. But I'm here to help, I promise. You're not alone."

That did it. Tears pooled out of her eyes and slid off her cheeks. Those, surprisingly, were the perfect words. She buried her face in his chest.

"Thank you," she whispered.

They were silent for a while. Kiethara tried to control her weeping as the thunder rumbled anxiously above them. She needed to focus, to think clearly, to distract herself...then something occurred to her.

"How..." she began, and then swallowed noisily. "I mean, how did you know that...you came back..."

He smiled sadly as he stroked her face.

"I saw the storm."

CHAPTER 58

### SYMPATHY

Navadar did not leave. He insisted on staying the night, something he had never done before. Her protests died inside her throat. She did not want to keep this calm pretense anymore—she wanted to leave reality again and lose herself to the overwhelming grief; however, she was still afraid of being alone. She could recall all too clearly the feeling of being alone, the only presence in a forest that was a world of its own. Navadar was the only thing keeping her from going insane.

They did not leave the center of the forest, and he never let go of her. His strong arms wound a protective cage around her. They held her together so she did not fall to pieces as they eased her into a light, fitful sleep. She drifted on and off throughout the night, lying lightly on his rising chest. During the hours where she lay awake while he slept underneath her, she calmed herself by listening to the sounds of his heartbeat. At certain times, she could have sworn she heard his heart beat her name...

Kiethara never felt more torn in her entire life. It was as though there were two different people inside of her. One—the more dominant—was drowning in her sorrow, helplessly lost in the recent, unsettling events. The sky remained cloaked in gray, making the night darker than usual while occasionally the thunder rumbled as infrequent droplets would fall. The wind remained still, though, just as her tears remained silent.

There was the second, smaller being inside her. She was numb and slightly more rational. This person was in love with the boy underneath her. She watched him while he slept on. His blond hair fell in pieces over his eyes and unwrinkled forehead; he looked years younger when he slept, with his features finally relaxed and peaceful. His full lips were open slightly and his breaths came in quiet sighs. She wondered if he was dreaming.

He had known that she was in pain when he saw the billowing storm. But how? She had not even know she could do something like that until quite recently, that it was her combined emotions and uncontrollable power contorting the sky.

So how could he have known?

The answer came to her. She remembered, all those weeks ago, when she had been trapped in the strange world that lay outside the forest. When she had been running through the plains in a desperate attempt to reach the forest, urgently trying to run away from the horrid society behind her, and she had failed to do so...

Navadar had caught up with her. And during that meeting, the sky above had become just as fierce as it had been a few hours ago. She might have been too enraged to notice it at the time, but perhaps _he_ had noticed.

He really did love her. Kiethara owed her sanity to him for his careful attention and perpetual kindness. If she weren't so absolutely torn apart, that thought would have made her smile.

Finally, dawn came. The night had not brought her much sleep, but she hadn't wanted to inflict the same fate upon Navadar. She let him sleep as the sun rose, lying still on his chest, focusing on keeping her breathing as even as his was.

At last, he stirred underneath her. She closed her eyes as his arms tightened around her, fighting off a sudden wave of emotion. Where was this coming from? She thought she had cried the last of her tears, but here they were again, threatening to leak over.

She needed to be alone. He had helped her gain control, pulling her up over the cliff she had been dangling from, but now that she was safely back on land, she needed to mourn. She had a firm grip on her powers, but not the lamenting shards of her heart. Not yet.

Navadar shifted again. She raised her head and flexed her arms, which had fallen asleep pressed up against his torso.

"Good morning," he murmured his voice thick with sleep.

"Morning," she replied, her voice even hoarser than his. She cleared it quietly.

He stared hard into her navy blue eyes for a long moment, searching.

"I'm fine," she said quickly, answering his unspoken question. She pulled herself upright and onto the grass next to him to escape his penetrating gaze. He sat up to, eyeing her warily.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, looking away from him and towards the grass.

"Yes, please."

Kiethara focused hard at the ground. After a second, nothing happened. She focused harder, fresh strawberries filling her every thought. Her crystals glowed feebly.

The grass remained just that. Grass.

Shame washed over her, turning her cheeks red and making her eyes tear up in embarrassment. She could not even grow food! Something that had come naturally to her since the age of five was now impossible.

Kiethara was so lost in disbelief and panic that it took her a moment to realize she had become invisible.

At least she could still accomplish that.

Navadar's eyes widened for a second, but then comprehension filled the clear green. He reached his hand out towards her, his fingertips brushing her arm until they felt their way up to her shoulder and rubbed it sympathetically.

"Never you mind," he said simply.

It was too much. Kiethara was suddenly angry that Navadar was here, watching her make a fool out of herself. Everything she did just proved how weak she was! All he saw now was some pathetic sixteen year old girl who could not even pull herself up out of the mud, not a guardian.

She finally reappeared, and his responding smile only made it worse. Her hands burst into flames.

"I'm sorry," she said, forcing the words out as well as her hands to return to normal. She loathed having to speak them. "Thank you...for coming. But you should really get back to Redawn. I wouldn't want your father to worry."

Kiethara hadn't intended for the words to sound so harsh.

Navadar's face remained very composed, his eyes careful.

"I'll always come, that I can promise." he said sincerely.

Kiethara only nodded, looking away.

It was silent for a moment. She held her breath, waiting...

"But you are right," he finally said, as though he did not want to admit it. "My father will be worried."

Kiethara took a deep breath. "Yes. Your relationship has been strained as it is, so please; don't let me cause you any more strife. I can't have you in more trouble."

The words sounded false, even to her ears. She winced internally as a wave of guilt hit her. Could she handle anything else before it became too much?

"Trouble is...inevitable these days. He makes life as difficult as possible." Navadar shook his head and sighed before standing. He held his hand out. Trying to be off-handed about it, she jumped to her feet as though she had not seen it. She did not need his help to stand. Still, she did not look at his face, unwilling to find out how bad her action had offended him.

"Listen, I'll come back as soon as I can," he said, lifting her chin. He raised an eyebrow, as though daring her to object.

"Have a safe ride home," she mumbled pathetically, feeling wretched. He wanted what she could not give. Not at the moment.

Navadar nodded solemnly, as though he understood. Did he? Could he?

He opened his mouth, but then closed it. With one stroke of her cheek, he turned and left.

### ***

Being alone was as worse as it was better.

Those two people inside her were tearing her apart, screaming for their different needs and desires. As soon as Navadar's presence drifted too far for her to feel, she felt horribly separated and alone again. The silence strained on her ears; every sound made her jump. She regretted sending him away, for now there was nothing to hold her together.

But in a way, that was exactly what she needed. The pain that she had bottled up while he was here would no longer be restrained. It craved to be let out, before she exploded from the force of it and was reduced to the shreds her heart resembled. She certainly could not release it while he was here.

Kiethara sunk back to her knees by the waters edge, staring at the bleak surface of the guardian's lake. Thunder rumbling from above. She bowed her head and twisted her features as her throat choked on air that should have passed through easily.

She grieved for several hours, for many different reasons. She grieved for the loss of her father. Yes, she had decided that was exactly who he was. He had raised her. He alone had loved her. She grieved for the fact that Gandador was her actual father. She grieved for the burden she carried, the responsibility she struggled with, and the hardships that came with that.

Part of Kiethara still could not believe that she would never hear Aaron again. Besides the weather, the forest seemed almost the same. There was only a small difference to the air that surrounded her, a tiny discrepancy in the way it shimmered. For someone who did not live here as she did, there was nothing that screamed a change as massive as the one that had taken place. She doubted even another guardian would have noticed it.

So as she curled up and closed her eyes, she noticed there was still a small shred of hope that sparked in her thoughts. Her inability to accept his departure made her hope. The small, sane part of her mind warned her that she was only making things worse for herself by believing this, but she pushed the thought aside.

From the lack of sleep the night before and the deluded fact that she was convinced of—one that told her she would hear Aaron's voice in her ears soon enough—she fell asleep quickly.

Kiethara was standing on the lake.

She could not explain why she wasn't sinking. She had never been able to walk on water before. But now the water was firm underneath her, cool as ice. She stared down at her feet in confusion, wiggling her soil smudged toes as if to prove it was real. Could it be?

Kiethara craned her neck back. The sky above her was not blue. It was not even gray. It was a monstrous swirl of purple and green, with forks of violet and emerald lightning to illuminate the forest below.

Nothing crossed her mind as she gazed up at the spectacle. She was numb, inside and out. She was very grateful for the feeling.

But she also had a strange assumption that she was waiting for something. Kiethara pursed her lips. The sky, the water...this was a dream.

The realization did not wake her up.

_Kiethara_ , a voice called.

_Aaron?!_ The thought was louder than if she would have screamed it. She half expected the birds in the trees to fly up, but then she reminded herself that this was a dream, and that nothing acted as it should.

This was what she had been waiting for! She knew it! Aaron wasn't gone—he could not be. He could still talk to her. Her mother had. He could not—

_Oy!_ the voice snapped angrily. _Open you ears! Do I sound like Aaron?_

Crippling disappointment almost woke her up.

_Oh, Kiethara,_ the voice said softly. It sounded strange to hear her without her usual edge. _I didn't mean to be harsh, but...he's gone. Truly._

Kiethara plugged her ears.

_Nice try,_ she snorted, sounding more like her usual self.

_You're still here!_ Kiethara snapped. _He must be too!_

_Weren't you listening to his words? His explanation about death? Aaron used up all of his power. He has finally passed on,_ Tinya sighed, the sound full of such emotion that Kiethara was surprised. There was awe, reverence.

Of course I respect him! Even though I've never talked to him, I feel strangely connected to him. Besides him, I've lingered the longest past my physical death...

Kiethara was taken aback. Respect was the last thing she had expected from her dream companion.

But another thought—one as dark and unpleasant as the rest of them had been lately—intruded on her surprise. The voice was a lingering spirit just like Aaron. Yet she was different. Kiethara only heard Tinya when she was unconscious, for one...

_That's my choice,_ the voice interrupted. _It's easier to talk to you when you're unconscious, because you're...closer to the departed than you are when you're awake. I don't have to use as much magic. That means I can draw it out for a little more time..._

Her voice sounded so small there, at the end. It took Kiethara a second to realize what it was. It was fear. The voice had only been a small girl, thirteen, when she had died. So young! And to linger after you die...Tinya was not mature enough to let go. She must be clinging to her life...if that's what you would call what she had. How could a child willingly pass on?

_That's not it!_ she snapped. _I'm just curious to see how long it will take you to fail!_

Kiethara flinched—that was harsh. It brought back the fears and doubts that Aaron had left her with her. Honestly, how could she survive? In all of her battles with Gandador, she had always known, at least, that he had been there. He had been the one to save her during their first confrontation! What would it be like to fight him knowing she had no help?

_All right, all right, listen!_ the voice said loudly. _This was not the direction I was planning this conversation to go._

You were planning to have this conversation?

Not exactly...

Kiethara closed her eyes. She did not need this right now. All she longed for was to sink into the water beneath her and tune out the world around her.

You say I'm in denial. You think I'm denying the fact that I'm dead. Well, what are you doing? Ignoring the world around you isn't exactly the pinnacle of acceptance.

Kiethara opened her eyes. She mused over her words carefully as she gazed up at the green and purple clouds.

I just can't comprehend...that he's gone.

He had always been there. Even in her dreams. Kiethara looked around her now. The trees were dark, the sky in chaos...there was no Aaron here.

_I understand,_ the voice whispered. _Sometimes things happen that completely alter your life. When something happens that you would not have imagined in your wildest dreams—and trust me, I know your wild dreams—the world around you turns into a mighty stranger._

Kiethara could not have described it better herself. The voice...Tinya...she understood much better than anybody else seemed to. On top of that, she was only thirteen. It made her wonder—what had this girl experienced?

_My experiences?_ the voice asked, laughing bitterly. _The few when I was alive, or the numerous when I became a spirit?_

Um...

_I know,_ the voice laughed again. _For you, your world-shattering moment was Aaron's death. For me, it was when_ I _died._ _There I was stuck in the limbo, torn away from my life and unable to fully embrace death. No one had yet explained to me the laws of death and, at first, I had been so scared that I clung to my magic for years. I was too much of a coward to die. So I watched my parents mourn for me, too scared to confront them, too scared to use any of the precious magic I had left. But because of that, my parents were able to move on and have another child. They forgot about me. They looked to a brighter future without me._

If that wasn't painful enough, I had to watch them die. My mother became a spirit and she was excited to feel me; however, she wanted to move on. She tried to convince me to come, but I was too scared.

Kiethara could not move. This story stabbed at her heart. Could she cry in a dream?

_Then why me?_ Kiethara asked. _Why release your magic on me?_

_I've done some...growing up_ , the voice snorted. _But that's not it. What I said just before, about your world-shattering moment being the moment Aaron faded, well, I want to take that back. Your moment came when you were the age of three, you just can't remember it. And when I saw that, I knew your life would be as changed as mine was. That it would be as difficult as my death was. I watched you closely as your life progressed, especially when Gandador came back. When I saw how brave you were, I decided to be brave, too. I'll pass on in some time, and all the while I'll be making a difference by assisting the one guardian that I believe deserves it the most._

Kiethara could not speak.

So now I offer you my sympathy. I understand what you're going through. I will help you in any way I can. Kiethara...you are not alone.

CHAPTER 59

### TRIBUTE

Back and forth, back and forth...

Eyes closed, Kiethara allowed this rhythm to take over her mind and body. She was lying in her hammock, her body completely limp. Everything except her big toe, which pushed against the rough bark to keep the rocking in pace. Her torso remained still except for the ups and downs of her chest that were in tune with her breathing. Her arms spilled over the sides of her hammock, fingers grazing the grass beneath it.

Back and forth...

Her waist long hair draped over the edges of the white fabric. It swished to the same rhythm her hammock moved to.

Back and forth...

Above her, the sky rumbled quietly. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, her teeth coming together with an audible snap. Focus on the rhythm, she told herself. She could not afford to lose control.

Back and forth...

Kiethara let nothing fill her head except for the act of rocking. The small part of her flesh that pushed against the tree to keep her hammock moving, the feeling of her fingers rubbing lightly against the tall blades, the swish of her hair, the rhythm of her breathing...she focused on all of that and nothing else. She became numb to the world around her.

That was all she wanted. For the past few hours, she had done nothing but lay here and rock. Kiethara tuned out anything and everything that was not a necessity, for it was the only way to be in control. Sometimes she slipped, like before when the thunder rumbled; however, as long as she kept herself in check, her crystals remained dark and the sky remained silent.

That was what was important. Keeping her power in check, her magic inside her. Breath in, breath out.

Back and forth.

Her focus was not perfect, though; stray thoughts would slip under her guard here and there. How long could she keep this up? At some moments, she was painfully aware of the time crawling by. Eventually, her duty would call. She was the one with the greatest responsibility out of the entire population. There was no way she would be allowed to lie here and rock forever.

But this mindless rocking, the endless rhythm...it was her fragile peace that she had created. The slightest thing shattered it, but still, it kept her calm. It was all she wanted at the moment.

Or better yet, to fall asleep. If only she could will herself into that blissful state! To be completely senseless to the reality around her would be nothing but a blessing. Getting lost in a dream or a nightmare did not sound like such a horrible thing, either. At least it would distract her from...well, _this_.

Also, she knew if she fell asleep, she would be able to talk to Tinya.

Kiethara almost laughed. The voice in her head had turned out to be the most comforting thing out there, the most understanding. Perhaps that was because Kiethara understood her now. It was not fair to call her _the voice_ anymore. She could not pretend any longer. Tinya wasn't just another part of her unconscious mind. She was a real being, a real guardian. Tinya was giving her power away just so she could help her!

That thought sickened Kiethara. She did not want a child dying for her—if you could call it that. No matter what she was doing or what it was considered, it took the same amount of courage and sincerity that diving in front of a blade required. It wasn't right.

On the other hand, this half-life that Tinya was clinging to wasn't right either. Kiethara did not like the idea of lingering between two worlds. Of course, she understood why Aaron had. The forest would be gone if he had not stayed! But as for her, she knew that as soon as she died physically, she would use her magic and pass on as quickly as possible.

The sooner to see Aaron.

A tear slipped from her eye and, above her, the sky rumbled uneasily. Get in control! She clenched her teeth angrily. Lightening flashed. _Focus!_

Back and forth, back and forth...

Kiethara squeezed her eyes shut, as though the added pressure would make her slip into unconsciousness. After Navadar had left, she had slept all night, completely absorbed in the conversation in her head. There was no way she would be tired after only a couple of hours of being awake. And a couple of hours was being generous; with the sky so dark, she could not tell how much time was passing. It was most likely only early morning

Aaron had been wrong, though. She did not control the weather at all. Her emotions did. She could not grasp the clouds and sweep them out of the sky. She could not make the gray turn to white and bring the sun out from hiding. She needed more training.

And there was no one here to help her with that.

A sob broke from her lips as she threw herself out of her hammock. She could not take this anymore! She could not just lie here! Her fragile peace was broken beyond repair and there was nothing she could do. She wanted to fight! She wanted to defend! Anger built in her chest, and she let out a cry of rage.

There was a wave of heat, a blinding flash, and then it was all muffled by a blanket of blackness.

### ***

Almost no time at all had passed when Kiethara pulled herself off the damp grass with a groan. She stumbled to her feet, leaning into one of the surrounding trees.

Wait, surrounding trees?

Hadn't she been right by her hammock? What was she doing under the green canopy above?

Kiethara turned around. Oh. She was only a few feet in. Her clearing was right there, the same—

No, there was something wrong. For one, she could smell it. She took a cautious step forward, and then a few more. There, by her hammock, was a patch of burnt grass. It was still smoldering slightly.

Her mouth fell open and her mind was blank for a single beat. What had happened? She had been standing a mere few feet from where the ground was smoking! Was she under attack? Her connection was silent in her head.

It came back to her then, the heat and the bright flash. Lightening! It must have struck that very spot! Because she had been so angry...

Kiethara gasped quietly and brought her hand to her mouth, lips trembling to the touch. Aaron had warned her. He had warned her not to lose control! And here she was, practically setting the forest ablaze again, as well as herself! She was lucky she had not struck herself ...

She had failed him.

Kiethara could not find a sense of peace any longer. The tears fell freely again, along with the rain that now poured from the sky. She did not bother stoping it this time; besides, it was better if everything was wet anyway. That way, she just might not burn the forest down. It might just be better to mourn than suffocate the feeling of absolute loss, to push away the revelation that an ending was an ending, a passing was a passing. She had been left in the raging blizzard by herself and, instead of wasting her energy trying to follow the footsteps that had faded from the snow, she needed to accept that she was lost in the bitter cold and drag herself through it.

And for the next few days, that was exactly what she did. She mourned. She let it all out until she ran dry. The forest floor turned more into a swamp than a bed of soil, while the sun continued to remain hidden.

Eventually, time came to her aid. As the hours wore on, she found herself able to breathe again. She slowly began to gain control. She was not...happy. She just became a little more indifferent to the death, a little more numb to the shock, with each passing minute.

Once her head became a little clearer, she was able to take care of the necessities. She ate, she drank, and she washed the mud off of her garments. She made a routine for herself and followed it mindlessly. She focused on each task. When there was nothing else to focus on, she mourned.

One day, Kiethara found herself in her clearing, standing and staring at nothing in particular. She was trying to see if she could make her mind blank by gazing intently on the dandelion growing from the ground.

She wasn't really seeing the pathetic flower, though. The image was just swimming pointlessly before her eyes. Her thoughts were not present enough to truly take it in.

There was a grunt of disapproval from behind her.

Kiethara jumped and then she spun around, unsheathing her sword in the same second. While she positioned it, her mind pulled forth her connection. A presence was indeed in her clearing and they had magic, but not nearly as much as Gandador and his goons had.

Camella was standing with her hands on her hips, shaking her head back and forth. Her short, chin length hair shone with a medley of colors—brown and subtle reds streaked with blond highlights. She was decked in puffy black trousers tucked into boots, with a patched, loose-fitting shirt to match. From the distance, she could pass as a man if she covered her head with a scarf.

She sighed and removed her beaded bag off her shoulder, dropping it onto the ground. She removed another pack from her back and did the same. She then crossed her arms and stalked forward, squinting at Kiethara with such intensity that her freckled nose wrinkled up.

"What?" Kiethara asked, sheathing her sword. She was surprised at how toneless her voice was, and how hoarse.

Camella seemed to notice it, too. "What's the matter with you?"

"What do you mean?" Kiethara asked, slightly offended at the less-than-warm hello from her supposed friend.

"What do I mean? When's the last time you looked at your reflection? The first time I came here, you were ready to ambush me. This time, I surprise _you!_ "

Kiethara opened her mouth, but she had no response.

"Maybe you don't realize the drastic difference I see. It's like you're a different girl! One who seems to have lost all sense of emotion and spirit, mind you."

Kiethara gritted her teeth and looked away. Spirits and emotion were the last two things she wanted to be reminded of right now.

Instead of continuing to ask questions, Camella embraced her suddenly, squeezing her tightly. Kiethara remained frozen for a moment, but all of her defenses gave way and suddenly, Camella's arms were the only things holding her together.

"Aaron's gone," she whispered.

As soon as she said it, she knew Camella would understand. All those weeks ago, the two of them had spent the entire night talking to each other. They had talked about love, their childhood, their family. She had talked about her grandfather, and Kiethara had talked about Aaron.

"Ah," Camella murmured. "I'm sorry."

They pulled apart, and Kiethara nodded. She took a deep breath as the sky rumbled gloomily.

Camella looked up. "These storms...are they from you?"

Kiethara looked up to. "Yes, I don't mean to, but..."

"It's been so stormy for the past few days. I first noticed it in Nikkoi; they're worried about their crops. The lack of sunshine can't be good for the forest, either."

"I'm working on it."

"It looks like you could use some sunshine as well. You look paler than you normally do!"

Kiethara almost smiled.

"I think I know exactly what you need," Camella mused, a mischievous grin pulling at her full lips. Kiethara instinctively became wary.

"Oh, don't give me that look! Trust me—it will give you quite a cheering up!"

"What will?" she asked, confused. She couldn't imagine what her guest was going on about. She had not received many gifts in her life and never had she recieved anything that could give her _cheer_. Odarick had given her a robe for concealment and a bag for convenience. Aaron had given her a sword for protecting—

Kiethara stopped the thought cold as her stomach panged.

Camella laughed; the sound was strangely nervous. She walked over to her bags.

"My grandfather is very opposed to it, but I don't see anything particularly wrong with it. At least, not the way I use it. The healers use it for medical purposes. Of course, there are those who abuse it, but we aren't going to...no, I mean, just look at you!"

"Camella!" Kiethara interrupted. "What in the world are you going on about?"

She rummaged for a moment, her exotic beads making a unique melody as they clinked together. She stood back up, and this time she had a brown leather canteen in her hand.

She skipped back to her side and took her hand.

"Now I bet you've been moping around this clearing day and night, am I right?"

"Are you going to answer my question?"

"Not yet," she replied cheerfully. "Let's go somewhere else. Do you have anywhere else in the forest where you like to be?"

Kiethara did not have the energy to try to put a stop to whatever scheme Camella was brewing. She held back a sigh, wondering when she would be able to ask her friend to leave without appearing rude. It was the same thing as Navadar: she just wanted to be alone.

"My mother's meadow, I suppose."

"Meadow? Lovely! Lead the way."

The two of them set off to the east.

"Did you carve these?" Camella asked, pointing to the symbols engraved in the bark of the trees.

"Yes, they helped guide me when I was younger."

"Clever."

Finally, they reached the meadow. Usually, the beautiful array of colors and the sight of the swirling petals made Kiethara smile upon the scene in awe. Camella certainly did, with a gasp of adoration; however, she could only look at it with a pained expression. It reminded her of more death and loss.

"Magical," Camella sighed dreamily. "The forest blows my mind away, let me tell you."

Kiethara only nodded. She did not trust her voice at the moment.

"Come on," Camella urged, tugging at her hands. She pulled her along until they reached the center and then she pulled her down into a bright patch of tulips. Kiethara looked over at the cherry blossom tree tucked into the corner and shuddered. At least they weren't anywhere near Trinnia.

Camella unscrewed the cap on the canteen. An interesting aroma caught Kiethara's awareness and, for some reason, it seemed vaguely familiar. But from where..?

Camella brought it to her lips and took a sip.

"Mm," she murmured after she swallowed. "That is heavenly. Take a sip!"

Kiethara took the canteen, wary but curious. Obviously, it was not poison.

"Drink!"

Kiethara put the leather to her lips and took a sip.

_Oh!_ The taste, the burn as it slide down her throat...it triggered an old memory. A memory of sitting at an embellished oak table, surrounded by unfamiliar dishes and customs...It was wine!

"It does take some getting used to," Camella said apologetically. "But trust me, you'll feel much better after a couple of mouthfuls. Go on, take another gulp."

Kiethara shook her head and held the canteen at arms length.

Camella sighed. "Trust me!"

"You take it."

"I've already had my fun with wine; it's your turn. I'm not letting this go until I can see the sun again." They both looked up.

"So your saying this concoction will make me forget about Aaron?" Kiethara demanded, a bit angrily.

"No," Camella shook her head solemnly. "Of course it won't. Nothing would be able to do that. It just...takes the edge off the pain. Helps you appreciate Aaron's life without the hurt."

It sounded so unbelievable. Could something really do that for a person? Kiethara was used to discovering new powers, but this was different.

"I have to relieve myself," Camella said, jumping up. "When I come back, that canteen should be a lot lighter than it is now."

Camella glared at Kiethara, as if to emphasize her threat. She looked so serious that, to both of their surprises, Kiethara gave a tiny smile.

"Much better," Camella said cheerfully before skipping off.

Still shocked, Kiethara brought the wine to her lips again. Maybe this was some type of potion Aaron had never taught her to make. Shrugging, she took a sip.

It went down easier this time. She could appreciate the taste now; it was much better than drinking water, or any other taste, for that matter. Well, besides for those honey cakes Navadar had bought for her in Redawn.

Kiethara took another sip. And another.

It was like a warm flame in her belly. The gentle warmth seemed to seep through her body, pushing away the gloom that had settled inside her. She took a deep breath, realizing she hadn't been able to breathe this easy in a while.

"How's that working for you?" Camella asked from behind. Kiethara twisted her head back and gave her friend a lopsided smile.

"You have to tell me how to make this," Kiethara sighed.

Camella plopped down beside her and began combing her fingers through Kiethara's long hair. "Oh, I have no idea. I get it from the market, or course. Do you mind if I braid these wonderful locks?"

"Of course not. That feels amazing." Kiethara took a generous gulp of wine. "I must learn how to make this. Can you show me?"

Camella giggled. "I already told you I haven't the faintest idea. Maybe when we get some free time we can go on an adventure and find out the secret."

Kiethara gasped loudly, and then hiccupped. "Let's go! Right now!"

Camella laughed again. "How about in a little while? Just relax, and make sure to finish that canteen there."

So Kiethara did just that. Time seemed to melt into one warm, happy blur. Camella's fingers worked magic with her hair until one, beautifully long braid ran down her back. They—mostly Camella, at first—talked through the entire afternoon. Kiethara did not even notice the sun, which had finally peeked out from behind the clouds, sinking low into the sky.

When the wine was finished, Kiethara stumbled to her feet, the empty canteen slipping from her hands. She spread her arms wide and hiccupped.

"Aaron was e-everywhere!" she said loudly. "I'm telling you, this man...this...man knew everywhere! Oops, I mean everything!"

They both giggled. Camella clapped and called: "Hear, hear!"

"He was an honorable man!" Kiethara proclaimed, swaying as she raised her hand.

"Let the world know, Kiethara! Let us pay proper tribute to his memory!"

"He was the best! He was the greatest!" she yelled.

"And his name was Aaron Pervel!" Camella yelled.

Kiethara's crystals glowed brightly and, unsure what she was doing, she began puling magic from the forest. She pointed at the ground and screamed: "To Aaron Pervel!"

A massive pine tree shot out of the ground and into the sky. The bark creaked deafeningly as it soared to the sun, taller than any other tree in the forest.

"A tribute...to Aaron," Kiethara mumbled. She swayed and stumbled to the ground, where she fell asleep with a light snore.

CHAPTER 60

### GUEST

Kiethara groaned.

For a second she thought she was back in the wagon with Natal, tied up on a sack of potatoes. She had never felt more uncomfortable in her life than she had then.

Except for now.

The sun beat merciless on her back, the white fabric of her dress sticking to her flesh from a sheen sweat that covered her from head to toe. Her arm was trapped in an awkward position beneath her and blades of grass scratched at her blistering skin. Her nose was pressed into the dirt.

On top of that, her head was pounding. She could not remember a time where it had throbbed like this. Her throat was so dry, the feeling only made worse by a horrible taste in her mouth.

Was she sick? Confused, Kiethara tried to pull herself up. Her pinned arm went numb with the relieved pressure, her head spinning and throbbing with every movement.

Kiethara froze as she lifted her head off the ground, her eye coming level with the beautiful bloom of a flower. A flower? She raised her head another inch and corrected the thought. Not a flower, but many flowers. She was in her mother's meadow.

She was sleeping in the meadow? Why wasn't she in her hammock? A series of fuzzy images filled her head. Camella had come, and she had made her drink wine...why was it so hard to remember?

Shaking her head in bewilderment—and wincing as her tender skull responded harshly to the movement—she finally managed to sit up. She stretched and stumbled to her feet, moaning as her joints cracked.

Where was Camella? Kiethara spun slowly, looking—

Kiethara gasped so loudly it hurt her throat. Her heart stuttered and her features popped wide as she took in the unfamiliar sight before her.

Reaching to a height of at least two hundred feet, a massive pine stood in the center of the meadow. She gazed up at it with wonder and awe, unable to speak as she absorbed it in. Its colors were vibrant; the thick trunk was a rich brown and the needles a vivacious emerald. It looked so _alive_. Already animals could be seen and heard from its massive branches. Vines had begun there ascent up the bark without hesitation.

Kiethara's stomach began to flip uneasily. There was only one person who was powerful enough to grow something of this magnitude. Obviously, she must have done it some time last night. The fact that she could not remember creating such an enormous work of nature alarmed her, but that was not what was making her uneasy.

What was making her uneasy was the fact that she was beginning to recognize the tree. The more she stared up at it, the more she began to realize what it resembled.

Kiethara had had a dream, a long time ago, where Tinya had first talked to her. She had stood there, in the middle, watching the people in her life take their places among the branches.

She shook her head again, unable to accept the idea. Had she really grown the tree from her dreams smack in the middle of a meadow? She still could not remember the previous evening. Had she really done this? Kiethara tentatively walked forward towards the thick trunk, fingers outstretched. It was as though the image before her might just be a dream and only when her skin came into contact with the rough bark did she fully believe that it was as real as she was. It was an odd sensation, having a distant dream become a reality in the most literal sense.

"I don't believe it," she said, stepping back.

"Believe it, Kiethara," Camella mumbled from the left of her, pulling herself up from the flowers. Her short hair stuck up in tuffs.

Kiethara winced at the sound of her voice and the effect it had on her throbbing head.

"It's rather inspiring," Camella shrugged, standing up and stretching.

"I couldn't have done this!" Kiethara stated, pointing at the tree. "I couldn't have!"

"Well, you did," she answered dryly, her nose scrunching up as she gazed at the pine. "Scared the hell out of me, too. I thought it was an earthquake, or an attack!"

"Well, I'm sorry," Kiethara practically whimpered. "I don't even remember doing it! Why in the world did I?"

She looked at Camella with frantic eyes, desperate for some explanation. To her surprise, she had one.

"In tribute to Aaron."

"In tribute...? To Aaron?" Kiethara stuttered, looking back at the tree.

"We were rejoicing in his memory last night," Camella said with a shrug. "We got a bit carried away."

Kiethara was not listening. She was staring up at the tree again, her expression now speculative. She had grown this tree in tribute to Aaron? Well, it was fitting. It was by far the largest tree in the entire forest, so it resembled him perfectly.

Kiethara's lips pulled up in a brilliant smile.

Camella allowed her a moment of silence. She pressed her lips together and clasped her hands behind her back, as though she needed to restrain herself from interrupting Kiethara's marveling. She probably did.

Kiethara sighed and put a hand to her tender head, wishing she could enjoy this moment without the constant pounding.

Camella finally broke and a giggle slipped from her lips. "I bet your head hurts, huh?"

Kiethara winced. The giggle was too loud in her ear. "Yes."

"The dark side to a pain-free night," Camella said solemnly. "A painful morning."

"This is because of the wine?" Kiethara asked.

"Uh-huh."

"And the fact that I can hardly remember a thing?"

"That too."

"Ugh," Kiethara groaned. "Then what's the point of drinking in the first place? It feels like I've been poisoned!"

Kiethara was a little annoyed. If she had known that the wine would have this effect, she would not have drunk it at all. So much for a wonderful concoction.

"Now it feels that way. Last night, you felt amazing. Trust me. It was a great way to snap you out of that apathetic, melancholy state you had been in. Look up! I bet you haven't seen the sun for days."

That was true, but still...she could not remember anything at all, except for a few hazy items. And in those hazy recollections, she had the feeling that she had had no control over her actions at all.

"We had a great time last night, and we wouldn't have without a little drink. Don't regret it."

"Do you remember what happened last night?"

"Oh, yes, I was sober enough."

"Care to fill me in?"

"We talked, we laughed, and we played. I braided your hair." Camella indicated to Kiethara's back.

Kiethara brought a hand to the back of her neck, surprised. Sure enough, she felt her waist long hair in patterned pallets running down her back, tied with a leather cord. She craned her neck back to try to get a glimpse of it.

"Here," Camella laughed, taking the braid and flinging it over her shoulder. Kiethara stroked it. How pretty.

"You must teach me how to do this!" Kiethara exclaimed, wincing when her loud voice increased the tempo of the throbbing.

"I can try. It might be difficult for you to do by yourself, since your hair is so long. I would let you practice on me, but my hair is a little short."

"I'll manage."

"Whatever you say," Camella laughed, rolling her eyes. Now why don't we start working our way towards a lake or a stream so we can get you something to drink? You certainly need some water."

Kiethara's attention was directed towards her dry throat. "All right, let's go."

Kiethara led Camella to her lake. On the way there, she filled her in on the rest of the night.

"That's when the fun really started," Camella said with a wicked smile. "You stood up and told me all about Aaron's great deeds and strengths. Well, shouted would be a more accurate description."

Kiethara bit her lip, worried. Had she told Camella some of the guardian's secrets by mistake? She would never drink that blasted drink again.

"And right at the very end, you pointed at the ground and the tree shot up. I almost had a heart attack, I tell you. Then you passed out."

"Passed out?" Kiethara asked. "Why?

"Wine can do that to you, too."

Kiethara practically growled, shoving a tree limb out of her way. Her hands burst into flames. Camella yelped.

"Are you okay?"

"No."

Camella did not say anything for a long moment. Kiethara used the silence to focus on letting her anger simmer out, as well as the flames.

"Why are you so angry?" she finally asked.

"Because," Kiethara growled. "Do you know how reckless and irresponsible that poison made me? It seems like I had no control over myself last night! I could have killed you with that tree, Camella!"

"I think you're blowing this way out of proportion!" Camella reasoned. "Nobody got hurt and we didn't act that insane. It was much better than that lifeless, pitiable state you were in before."

"Are you sure about that?" Kiethara challenged. "Fine, I didn't hurt you. What if Gandador had decided to attack last night, eh? I wouldn't have been able to defend myself or the forest properly, let alone you. And trust me, my father will want revenge after you thwarted him the last time."

"Excuse me?" Camella asked. "Your father?"

Kiethara was silent for one beat, her heart freezing. How would Camella take it? As bad as Navadar?

Camella was silent for a little while.

"Did he attack?" she asked suddenly.

"What?"

"I asked, did Gandador attack the forest last night?"

"N-no," Kiethara stuttered, surprised at the direction the conversation had headed. "Obviously not, but—"

"But nothing, Kiethara," Camella said, rolling her eyes. "You need to be a little less stringent and enjoy your life. Sure, you have a responsibility, but what's the point of the forest if the forest doesn't let you live?"

"The point is making sure this great power stays alive and that nobody abuses it. That is what I have to make sure of, and I can't do it incapacitated like that!"

"The term is drunk," Camella giggled.

"Oh, whatever!"

"Kiethara, nothing happened. If you spend the rest of your life fuming over what could have happened, you are going to be mighty miserable."

"I'm not miserable. I'm angry."

"Now you're just being stubborn."

Kiethara laughed involuntarily.

Finally, they reached the lake. They both had sweat sticking all over there soil-encrusted limbs, so they quickly stripped themselves of their garments and sank into the cool water.

The first thing Kiethara did was take a long drink. Again, she was surprised at the magnitude of her thirst. It helped with her head a little, but not by much.

Taking a bath with another made her very self-conscious. She noticed that they were relatively the same size, but Kiethara was all too aware of the scars that marked her skin. Camella had such beautiful skin, tan and flawless.

Camella started wadding back to the shore.

"Are you done already?" Kiethara asked.

"Heavens, no," she said. She stopped when the water only came up to her knees, and then she began scanning the surface with her hazel eyes.

"Then what are you doing?"

"You have some meaty looking fish in this lake," she whispered. "I'm going to catch one."

"What?!" Kiethara shrieked.

"Shh!" Camella hissed. "You just scared it away!"

"You were going to capture a fish?" Kiethara whispered in a pained tone. "Don't tell me you were going to eat it!"

"Of course I am," she whispered back. "I'm hungry, and I bet you are too."

"I'm not eating anything!"

"Everyone in the world eats animals, Kiethara," she sighed.

"Well, I don't."

"Why not?" Camella demanded, standing up from her huntress' crouch.

"It's disgusting! It's cruel!" she replied. "You're eating a living creature, for crying out loud!"

"Plants are alive."

Kiethara opened her mouth and then closed it again. Were plants...alive? She had never thought of them that way, but they certainly weren't just things, like rocks. They grew and, in the forest, they created magic.

"How do you know?" Kiethara asked.

"My grandfather told me," she said simply, as though that proved it were true. "He reads so much literature, histories, sciences...And can you really say that a plant is just another object?"

"No, but—"

"Kiethara, if you say the word 'but' one more time I'll feed you to the fish. Now, you are going to try it, and you are going to like it. Well, as soon as I catch one."

Camella crouched in the water and froze, her hands hovering just above the surface. She remained in that position for a solid two minutes before she suddenly slapped her hands in the water and pounced.

"A-hah!" she cried, victorious. She pulled the flopping fish to her chest and flung herself on the grass. Kiethara could not help but laugh as Camella wrestled with the fish, all the while silently praying the fish would win.

However, to her disappointment, Camella proved the stronger of the two. She raised the limp animal victoriously, grinning like a fool.

"Oh this day I, Camella, bested the water beast!" she exclaimed.

"Some beast."

"Do not mock me! I bet you couldn't have pulled that off."

"I would have just set the thing on fire if I really wanted it."

"Well, that's what we're going to do now," Camella said. "Let's get dressed and head back to your hammock. I need to get something from my bags."

"All right," Kiethara agreed, a bit reluctant to get out of the water. Not to mention to have her friend force feed her some poor animal.

When they were on their way back to her clearing—damp, but clean—Kiethara realized something.

"Why do you have so many bags with you this time?"

"Er," Camella said. Kiethara was surprised to hear that she sounded uncomfortable. "I'll tell you when our fish here is cooking."

"Why?"

"Its nothing, really," she said. "I just have some news, that's all."

Kiethara was instantly wary. "Good or bad?"

"That kind on depends," Camella responded cryptically.

"On what?"

"How much you like me," she winked mischievously. She giggled at Kiethara's bewildered expression and skipped forward lightly.

When they broke from the trees and entered the clearing, Camella made a beeline for the bags she had piled in the grass.

"Can you gather some wood? Fallen branches, broken twigs..." Camella called over her shoulder as she rummaged.

"Sure..." Kiethara replied, but it sounded more like a question. She turned and ambled back under the cover of the trees. It took her less than a minute to collect a good armful of tree limbs. She had not even wandered more than a couple yards from her clearing.

When she came back, Camella had laid out a pot, a couple of wooden bottles, and a few other unfamiliar items that Kiethara had no name for.

"Thank you," Camella said, jumping up and taking the wood from her arms and setting it down. She started arranging it carefully.

"Now set this on fire," she ordered.

"I don't think setting anything on fire in the forest is a good idea!"

"Kiethara, trust me. We'll be watching it the whole time."

Knowing it did her no good to argue, Kiethara set a small blaze on the wood.

"Good," Camella mumbled, but she was preoccupied. She had a small knife in her hand, the fish on a stone slab. Kiethara looked away as she prepared the fish for the fire and began cooking it on a pole from above.

"Do me a favor," she said after a few minutes. It had been silent except for the crackling of the fire and the sound of Camella's work.

"Oh?" Kiethara asked.

"Fill the pot with water and grow me a couple of carrots and potatoes."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Please," she added. Kiethara grinned and did as she was instructed. Although she loathed admitting it, the aromas coming from the fish were making her mouth water. It was just as before: two different parts of her being were warring with each other. This time, it was her mind and her stomach.

Filling the pot was no problem. It seems her loss had cured her of all difficulties she had once had with the water element.

Camella took the pot with the vegetables and then busied herself again. Impatient, Kiethara paced. She wanted to know what Camella had been talking about before, but she knew Camella would not answer until the meal was ready.

Finally, Camella seemed satisfied with her creation. She set the steaming pot on the grass, a spoon in each hand. She motioned for Kiethara to take a seat opposite her.

She slowly made her way over to her friend and sat down rather reluctantly. The pot in front of her smelled wonderful and it did not look like a dead fish at all. It was an orange-brown liquid, with visible chunks.

"What is it?" Kiethara asked.

"Stew," Camella replied happily, stirring it with her spoon. She fished around inside the pot until she managed to raise a white chunk out of the stew. "Eat this."

Kiethara's stomach flipped as she stared at the lump. "That's fish, isn't it?"

"Come on, don't be such a coward," Camella teased. "It's just a piece of meat. It's not like I'm making you eat its eyes or anything."

Kiethara made a small, disgusted noise.

"Close your eyes and open your mouth, or so help me I'll waste my own magic to set _you_ on fire."

Kiethara cracked a grin at Camella's sudden seriousness. "Fine, but you owe me."

"For what? When you taste this, you're going to owe me. Now open up."

She complied, her insides squirming. The meat fell on her tongue.

Words failed her as she chewed. The exotic flavor was like an explosion in her mouth, making her taste buds scream in pleasure. So this was what meat tasted like! Its taste was unlike anything she had ever tasted before in the forest, so rich...she did not know if she liked it.

As she swallowed, she felt a wave of guilt. She was actually enjoying the taste of a dead animal. The thought was so sickening, so evil. How could she find pleasure in death?

"So what do you think?" Camella asked in a breathless voice.

"I..." Kiethara bite her lip. Honestly, it was not disgusting. She wanted more. But just the image of the fish in her head...

"Listen, you have to see past the whole animal part," Camella sighed, reading her like a book. "Everyone eats animals. Animals eat animals."

"You're right," Kiethara admitted. Animals did eat each other. Was she any different?

"See? Now tell me, how did it taste?"

"Amazing," she told her in a small, guilty voice. "Better than most of the things I eat here. Though not as good as these honey cakes Navadar brought for me once in Redawn..."

Camella laughed. "Sweets are my weakness too." She handed Kiethara a spoon.

"Eat up, and make sure you eat some of the fish, too. I'm not going to be able to live here if all we eat is rabbit food."

Kiethara's spoonful of stew paused on its course to her mouth. "Eh?"

Camella fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable. Her cheeks went pink from what appeared to be embarrassment.

"Camella?"

"I've...um...been meaning to ask you something, Kiethara," she finally admitted.

"Oh?"

"Mm," she murmured. "See, my grandfather has recently got himself into a bit of trouble, and things have gotten a little complicated."

"Is he all right?" she asked.

"Physically, yes," Camella assured her. "The thing is, he's been discovered."

"Discovered?" she asked, picking up on the operative word.

"We're not supposed to use magic in Redawn," Camella whispered gloomily. "Nobody is. It's the only non-magic kingdom in the world; the only reason we live there is because my parents died. My grandfather used to live in a kingdom south of Redawn. It's very secluded, refusing to do business or barter with any other kingdom. Well, when my parents died—my mother had run away to Redawn to be with my father—my grandfather came up from there to raise me in Redawn. He, however, refused to stop practicing the art of potion making, something that requires magic, as you well know. He wasn't obnoxious about it, or anything. He didn't flaunt himself, but as the government grows to be more corrupt, people are becoming more and more scared and greedy than ever before."

"What do you mean?"

"I think Gandador has a hand in Redawn now. The king has a sketch of you hung all around the kingdom, offering a reward if anyone has any information on you, as well as even more gold if they manage to capture you alive. Everyone knows now of your little vacation in Redawn, and people are watching out for magic-users like a hawk. So, of course, the extra scrutiny got him reported. I wasn't home at the time when he got arrested."

Kiethara gasped.

"When I got there, they had taken him, along with all of his potions. I packed the necessities and left as soon as I could, but then I realized I had no place to go."

Camella picked at the grass as Kiethara absorbed her story. It was a lot to take in.

"So you wish to stay here?" Kiethara clarified, still stunned.

"Yes," Camella said in a small voice. "Just for a little while, only as a guest. Just long enough for me to figure out a craft and a way to earn some money so I may be able to lodge at a cheap inn. If you don't want me, I could—"

Kiethara held up her hand, interrupting her friend's worried babble.

"Camella," she said, beaming. "I would be honored to have you as my guest."

CHAPTER 61

### UNITED

You're really going to let her stay here?

Kiethara ignored Tinya as her mind spun in the essence of her dream. She could not make sense of her surroundings. It was mostly black, but out of the corner of her eye she could sometimes catch a glimpse of the endless fields that lay just outside the forest.

Interesting. She knew that she did not want to be there, of all places. Maybe that's why the majority of her vision was in darkness, because she did not want to be there. If she got there, this dream would soon become a nightmare. She knew that for certain.

It seemed like sheer will power could not keep her consciousness free from the plains for long.

She felt an odd, swooping sensation in her stomach. The green was slowly becoming more dominant in her line of vision.

Suddenly, she was standing in a sea of grass, with endless blue stretching from horizon to horizon above her. It was so big, so empty...she knew she could scream for hours and nothing would ever change. No one would come.

Ah, but there was someone coming. A small dot was bobbing in the distance, weaving through the waist long grass at a brisk pace. Kiethara squinted towards it, hardly daring to believe what she saw. What if it was a trick of her mind?

But it wasn't a trick. It was Camella.

She was huffing her way over the gentle slopes with all of her packages in tow. Kiethara watched her approach, feeling uneasy. Camella then walked right by her without even a glance in her direction.

Don't you see?

Kiethara did not understand the question. She saw her empty surroundings. She saw her friend determinedly making her way across the plains. She also saw that Camella was completely unaware of her presence.

I'm talking about the fact that you don't belong here, outside the forest. This isn't your world.

Kiethara rolled her eyes. She had already known that for quite some time now. Tinya sounded so solemn, as though she were confessing some great secret.

_Pay attention!_ she snapped, sounding more like herself. _I meant that you don't belong here, but she does. Just like you belong in the forest, when she doesn't_.

Kiethara pursed her lips. She finally understood what she was getting at, even if she did not agree.

Why don't you invite all of Redawn, then? They can all take a dip in Aaron's lake and sleep in your hammock.

Kiethara shook her head as she gazed at Camella's retreating figure. _You worry too much._

And as always, you don't worry enough.

That, Kiethara thought, was a matter of opinion.

### ***

Kiethara's stomach swooped again as she struggled into consciousness. It took her a moment to realize that she was moving and another to realize that she was moving rather precariously.

Her hammock was swaying to and fro in the wind. She had been fidgeting in her dream, too, setting her hammock into even more haphazard swings. She gasped, grabbing the edges of the cloth to set herself steady. It was a good thing she did, too, or she would have tumbled right onto Camella.

She was sleeping on the ground beneath her, in a sleeping sack. Camella refused Kiethara's hammock vehemently when she offered it, proclaiming:

"I don't want you treating me special. Go about your normal business and don't give a fret about me. I'll help you where I can, and not bother you a trifle otherwise."

Kiethara appreciated that because she knew she would have gotten no sleep at all if she had tried to sleep on the ground. At some times she was able too, but those times required her to be extremely tired...

Carefully, so not to disturb her sleeping friend, she slipped out of her hammock. Her feet moved silently against the ground as she made her way to the guardian's lake.

It felt odd, having to be quiet. The silence seemed oppressive. She took a quick dip in the cool water, letting its magical qualities sooth her in more ways than one. Would Aaron have approved of the new arrangements? Her stomach panged at the thought of him.

Gazing up at the huge stone set with the four elements, she pondered her new situation. Maybe Tinya was right—did Camella really belong here? Not exactly, especially when she thought of Gandador attacking at any given moment. The situation did not seem ideal. She shuddered at the thought.

But she was not _alone_ anymore. Camella was different company than Navadar was. She did not have to try as hard, for she did not feel as half as self conscious with her as she did with Navadar. Again, a wave of remorse washed over her as the guilt of sending him away ate her from the inside out. But at that particular moment, she had needed to be alone.

Her muses were interrupted as she felt Camella's presence began to move in her head. With a sigh of bubbles, Kiethara pulled herself up from the sandy bottom of the lake and set off to meet her new guest.

When Kiethara arrived in her clearing Camella was already rolling up her makeshift bed.

"Sleep all right?" Kiethara asked.

Camella gasped and jumped violently, causing her bedding to unroll again.

"Goodness, Kiethara, don't do that!" she rebuked.

"Do what?"

"Sneak up on me like that! Make some noise when you move, at least!"

"Oh, sorry," Kiethara laughed.

Camella shook her head as she rolled up her blankets again. "Laugh now, but one day I'll scare you back."

"I wouldn't," Kiethara said seriously. "I might set you on fire or send you flying. My powers tend to get out of hand when I'm surprised."

Camella looked up at her with wide eyes. "A-All right."

Kiethara instantly regretted her words. Camella was not as easy to scare as Navadar was, but she was still capable.

"So what do you want for breakfast?" Kiethara asked politely, trying to lighten the mood.

"Whatever I catch, I suppose," she replied with a wicked grin.

"Oh, no! We are not starting out the day killing some poor creature!"

"Didn't you like the fish?"

"It was all right, I suppose," Kiethara hedged. "But I'm not eating that for every meal!"

"Compromise, then. I'll eat your rabbit breakfast with no complaints if you eat my dinners with the same attitude."

Kiethara pursed her lips. "Fine."

"Wonderful," she cried, clapping her hands together. "What's to eat?"

Kiethara rolled her eyes and grinned. "Rabbit food."

The next few days followed in the same fashion. Kiethara took charge of breakfast and Camella took charge of dinner and, during this time, Kiethara was forced to get used to having company all day, everyday. She enjoyed Camella immensely, but at odd moments she found herself wishing that she was alone. Sometimes she did ask for a moment to herself, so she could practice her blade or train. She refused to do that with an audience.

On one particularly beautiful day, the two girls were in her clearing. Camella was sitting across from Kiethara, desperately trying to explain to her a game.

"Just keep your hands up, and let me show you again," Camella huffed.

"Whatever you say," Kiethara said dubiously. She had already given up trying to understand.

"Work with me here," she pleaded. Camella clapped her hands together and then proceeded to slap them against Kiethara's.

"This is a game?"

"Yes! Don't you see the pattern?" she asked impatiently.

"I suppose so..."

"Oh, it's hopeless!" Camella sighed dramatically.

"I'm sorry."

"Its not—" Camella broke off with a gasp, which she cut off in the same second by slamming her jaw shut. Kiethara jumped, instantly making her way to get up. Camella clamped her hands down on her shoulders before she could move any farther.

"So, what do you think about Navadar?" she asked suddenly.

"What?" Kiethara asked, mind spinning. In her panic she reached for her connection. There was no one else there...

But there was. A presence so light, so devoid of magic she could hardly sense it. With Camella's new and unsubtle behavior, she put two and two together.

"Navadar!" she gasped, half-flying to get upright.

She spun around until she spotted him. He was leaning against a thick oak, arms crossed and face lit with the most charming grin. It took her breath away.

"So this is Navadar," Camella said in a mischievous tone, throwing her arm over Kiethara's shoulder.

"Yes," Kiethara said, reddening. Maybe she should not have told her everything.

"Not bad," Camella breathed in her ear. Kiethara could not help but giggle.

Navadar shrugged off the tree and started forward. "Do I get to hear the joke?"

"It's not that funny," Kiethara said, rolling her eyes. "Navadar, this is Camella. Camella, this is Navadar."

Camella curtsied. "I've heard a lot about you."

"It's a pleasure, I'm sure," Navadar responded, bowing his head.

Kiethara fidgeted, unable to take the suddenly formal atmosphere. It seemed that people only really relaxed when they were alone with her.

"It's a shame we don't know each other better," Camella continued. "We do live in the same kingdom."

"We do?" he asked, surprised. "Where do you live?"

"Oh, I don't live there anymore," she said casually. "I got thrown out."

The shock on Navadar's face was almost comical. "Why?"

"They found out my grandfather and I used magic."

"Ah..." he said a bit awkwardly.

"It's all right," she said cheerfully. "I'm living here now."

"You are?" he asked, even more surprised.

"I'm the newest member of Kiethara's kingdom. She's starting one, you know."

"Camella!"

"Is she now?" Navadar grinned.

"Yes, welcome to Fortress Forest," Kiethara said sarcastically.

"I want to be ambassador!" Camella declared.

Kiethara rolled her eyes but otherwise ignored her. "Navadar, how long were you standing there?"

"Long enough to see that you can't play a game of patty-cake."

"I couldn't make heads or tails of that nonsense," she admitted with a grin. "I can't see the point."

"The point is to play," Camella said in exasperation.

"And to keep the runts occupied until it was time for dinner," Navadar added.

"Oh, speaking of supper, I should be out hunting for it!" Camella gasped, looking up at the sun.

Kiethara made a face.

"I could go..." Navadar offered, a hand reaching for his bow.

"No, no," Camella said rather sternly. "You two stay here. I'll be back in an hour."

With a conspicuous wink in Kiethara's direction, she exited the clearing.

Kiethara now found herself hyperaware of Navadar's warm chest looming a mere few feet away. She tried to keep the blush from her face as well as the glow from her crystals. How foolish would he think her if she turned invisible?

"Well, that was interesting," Navadar said, breaking the silence.

"That is Camella, I'm afraid," she sighed.

"Did I hear her right? Is she hunting for dinner?" he asked.

"Yes," Kiethara said, making another face. "She's making me eat animals."

"Making you?"

"She doesn't want to eat my 'rabbit food,' see."

"Ah."

"I only eat it in the evenings, though. That's part of our arrangement," she told him.

"Is she really living here, then?"

"Yes."

"She got banished from Redawn?" he asked.

"Yes, and she had no where else to go."

"And her grandfather?"

"Unfortunately, I think they arrested him."

"Because he used magic?"

"And because of Gandador."

"How do you reckon that?"

"Because he's a greedy, selfish bastard intent on finding a way to thoroughly destroy every part of my life because I refuse to give up my power."

Navadar blinked.

"So now I must kill him," she finished.

"Kill him?"

"Soon."

"Any particular reason why?"

"He's creating panic and disorder throughout the kingdoms! He's hurting the people I love and he's sent my head spinning with his ludicrous plans to take my power from me, a power he wants so badly he'll do anything for. The madness needs to stop!" she declared passionately.

"Okay..." Navadar said in a slightly strained voice. "Anything else you have to tell me?"

"Did I tell you Camella got me drunk?"

"N-No!" Navadar stuttered, his mouth dropping open.

"Well, then, that's all."

He shook his head back and forth slowly. "You never cease to..."

"Bore you?" she suggested.

He laughed so loudly it echoed through the trees.

"Amaze me," he said before pulling her closer and kissing her.

The kiss made her realize just how much she had missed him. It had not been that long, either. Certainly not the longest separation they had had. He had hurried back to her, it seemed...

Guilt washed over her as she recalled the less than hospitable way she had treated him.

"I'm sorry..." she whispered when they broke apart. "About the last time, I mean..."

He took her chin in his hand and tilted her head back, so she could look no where but his eyes. They were bright, unclouded. Forgiving.

"Come on," she said, taking his hand. "I want to show you something."

Kiethara pulled him out of her clearing and through the trees until they arrived at her mother's meadow.

Navadar whistled as the shadow of the great pine fell over his face. "What is this?"

"I didn't mean to do it," Kiethara admitted. "I was drunk. I hardly remember any of it."

"You were drunk when you did this?" he gasped.

"Uh-huh."

"Wow," he said, shaking his head. His eyes were wide as they traveled up the pine.

Kiethara bit her lip, nervous. Had she revealed too much? She forgot so easily that magic was not a normal concept in his world.

"Well, it makes for nice shade," he finally said. He was the one to grab her hand this time and pull her along, into the shadow of the massive trunk. He brought her to the base of it and sat down, pulling her into his lap.

"You know what happened when I first got drunk?" he asked.

Kiethara turned so she could face him, putting her arms around his neck. "No."

"I was with Randall," he began. "I had only been fifteen. We snuck into his father's stash of ale and downed about a liter each. We stumbled out of his house—it was late, the sun had set—and got on my horse. We galloped all throughout Redawn, singing wedding ballots. My father was informed of our... _behavior_ by a friend and he had set out to come get us. Never was I so terrified in my life, as I rounded a corner and caught sight of his face. Even drunk, I knew I was in for a whole lot of trouble. He pulled Randall and I off the horse and boxed our ears all the way home.

"Randall stayed the night. In the morning his father came and beat him all the way to his house. I spent my morning searching the hot, loud streets of Redawn with the worst headache you could possibly imagine, looking for my horse. I found him tied to a gypsy. Old goon made me pay ten pieces of gold to get him back!"

Kiethara laughed so hard her eyes teared up. "And I thought...I had it bad..." she gasped. He laughed along with her.

"It taught me well," he chuckled. "I never had more than a glass of wine after that day, and the ones that I did were purely for social occasions."

"I'll never drink that poison again," Kiethara vowed. "I could have killed Camella with this tree."

They both looked up at the towering structure.

"I don't know," he mused with a teasing expression. "It might be interesting to see you drunk."

"I didn't realize you had a death wish."

"Please," he whispered. "You're not that dangerous."

She arched an eyebrow.

"What?" he said defensively.

"Do you need me to demonstrate how dangerous I can be?" she asked. "Or will past experiences be sufficient?"

"Well," he said, his grin widening. "I'd like to see a demonstration."

"Oh, really?" she giggled, brushing her nose against his. "I don't want to scare you."

"Do your worst," he murmured into her hair.

She leaned her forehead against his collar bone, squeezing him gently. She could feel his warmth; his strong figure became apparent as they embraced, inhaling each other's scents with deep sighs. For an entire moment, she lost herself to him. She forgot her connection, her powers, the time, the day, the season...

She never wanted to move again. The feel of his fingers running through her hair made her scalp tingle, while the feeling of his other hand squeezing her waist made butterflies fly around in her stomach. Every gentle touch made her body cry with pleasure and her senses scream themselves alive. He was the only one who could make her feel this way.

Time, however, eventually became to mean something. Camella was returning to her clearing, so she knew it was time for supper.

As Kiethara lifted her head, she spotted a bright patch of yellow on the far side of the meadow. Her stomach dropped as a new wave of guilt washed over her—when had been the last time she had thought of Trinnia? This meadow, once nothing but innocence swirling in beauty, had now become nothing but a tribute to the dead.

"D-Do you want to visit her?" she asked quietly, looking back at Navadar fearfully. She did not know what he wanted.

He leaned his head back against the trunk and gave a small, sad smile. It seemed rather peaceful to her.

"I already have," he said quietly. "Before I came to you. I don't want you to have to constantly deal with death, Kiethara. I want you to be happy."

"As I want you to be," she whispered. "But I also want to be there for you. No matter what."

"You are," he told her. "But I have a philosophy. I don't think the dead want us wasting the life they had lost by spending hours sitting besides a grave. I believe they want us out there, living while we still have the chance, all the while respecting the memory of their life, not the stone that marks their corpse."

She tilted her head at his words.

"I will respect Trinnia forever," he promised. "But I can do that without visiting her grave."

Kiethara swallowed, unable to give him a reply around the lump in her throat.

He brought his lips to her, kissing her again. Slowly, her old jubilation at his appearance returned, and when they broke apart with ragged breathing, she found herself smiling.

"I think dinner is ready," she told him.

"Mm."

Another kiss. How would she ever find the will to resurface?

By some miracle, she did. "You must be hungry. Besides, she's a great cook."

Navadar sighed. "All right."

She smiled at his unwillingness, secretly pleased. "Let's go, before I really show you how dangerous I can be."

### ***

When they arrived in her clearing, Camella had a wonderful fire roaring.

"How did you get it started?" Kiethara asked in surprise, making her jump.

"Do you mind not scaring me while I have a knife in my hand?" Camella snapped, turning around to brandish a knife and three dead birds at her.

Kiethara gagged and turned around. "Ugh. I don't want to see that!"

"Well, you're going to eat it!" Camella told her. "Navadar, do you mind skinning them for me?"

"Of course," he said. Kiethara heard him walk forward.

"You didn't answer my question," Kiethara called over her shoulder.

"About what?"

"The fire."

"You already know I can use magic," Camella reminded her. "Just because I don't use it often and can only do a little does not mean I'm helpless."

"You two do understand that you can start a fire without magic?" Navadar interjected.

"Yes."

"You might want to try it one day."

"Perhaps," Kiethara replied. She did not like the idea of not using her powers, but it may still be a useful skill to acquire. The image of the cursed necklace flashed before her eyes.

For the next few minutes the only sounds that could be heard were the sounds of them working. Kiethara occupied herself by letting a caterpillar crawl onto her hand, its small body contracting as it pushed itself up her arm.

"Dinner is served!" Camella announced happily. Kiethara turned around to see three tin plates full of food—bird, she suspected. It did not resemble a bird anymore, at least.

They all sat around the fire, busying themselves with chewing. She nibbled on her meat experimentally. It was good, she had to admit.

"You're letting Camella stay here, right?" Navadar asked unexpectedly after they had finished eating.

"Yes," Kiethara affirmed, surprised. Camella leaned back in the grass and pursed her lips suspiciously at him.

"Well I was wondering if, perhaps, I could stay here as well."

Kiethara's mouth fell open as she registered his words. A dozen emotions ran through her as it occurred to her what he was proposing.

"You could do that?" she asked breathlessly, her navy blue eyes sparking with excitement.

He smiled. "Yes."

"What about your father?" she asked.

"We had a long talk again last night," he said in a solemn voice. "He was acting funny the entire day, and then he came into the dining room and said: 'Navadar, I don't understand why, but I'll understand if you do what you need to do.' And then he walked out."

"Huh?" Camella asked bluntly.

"I thought the same at first, but when I thought about it, I understood," Navadar explained with a faraway smile.

"He wants you to be happy," Kiethara suggested.

"Yes and no. He wants me to do what's right, despite who I do it with. See, Kiethara, in my world, at this point I would have already married you and provided you a house, a home. He wants me to come and do that."

Kiethara had no response besides a blush.

"So I've come to do that...in a way," Navadar finished.

"Good! We need a man to do the work around here," Camella said with a jesting smile, laying back and crossing her ankles.

Kiethara could not help it—she laughed at her friends attempt to lighten the mood. "Don't listen to her."

"But listen to this," Kiethara warned, turning somber. "I want you both here, but it's dangerous. Gandador can appear at any moment and he _will_ kill you."

"That's a good point," Navadar said. "Didn't you say that the next time Gandador comes here will be his last?"

"Yes, but—"

"We've helped you before," Camella added.

"Yes, but—"

"With a little strategizing, we could help you make that happen," he told her.

"It's too dangerous—"

"Not together, not if we really do this right! You don't need to be alone," Camella said softly, sitting up.

"I..."

"Let's do it!" Camella said excitedly. She stuck her hand out. Navadar put his on top of it. "The only way we take him down is by being united!"

"All right," Kiethara whispered, putting her hand in as well. "Let's end this."

CHAPTER 62

### BUILDING

The next few days were... _magical_. Really, there was no other way to describe it. Kiethara was finding the new additions in her accommodations to be to her immense liking; not only did she get to live with her best friend and her true love, but she got to experience what it felt like to never be alone.

A year ago, she was always alone—except for the limited visits she had received from Aaron—until people began to leek into the forest and her life, slowly but steadily. They were rare treats, a welcomed escape from the life she was all too used to. They were new, invigorating experiences. They had been as exciting as they had been alien. They had been spontaneous, erratic, but downright enjoyable.

Not all of the visits she had hosted had been as nice as those had been. Some visits were feared and dreaded, each one weaving a new tale of horror and pain and leaving it inscribed in scars upon her flesh. They drove her to the extremes of her powers and her cunning, leaving her exhausted. These visits called forth her true nature and duty as a guardian.

She always had experienced those two types of visits at different times, except for once. That one time had resulted in a death, teaching her a brutal lesson to never combine the two again.

Now, it was as though she had not learned anything.

For here she was, blatantly allowing two other people to risk their lives for her and her responsibilities. Kiethara feared the moment when Gandador would appear spontaneously more than she had ever feared anything else before. She knew it would be the hardest fight she would ever endure, not to mention one she would have to triumph. The fear of losing her power faded as a new, choking fear of losing her friends filled her. Their carefree laughter at her severe warnings told her that they did not appreciate the gravity of the situation. Sometimes she thought she caught a flash of understanding from Navadar—who had learned the same lesson she had been taught in her mother's meadow—and she had a strong suspicion that he was just as fearful as she was, only too proud and courageous to leave.

Even after all of this, Kiethara could not bring herself to send them away.

She knew she could do it, if she attempted. They stood no chance against her. If she had the strength to, and not just physically, but mentally as well, they would already be on their way home.

But they weren't, and Kiethara found herself basking in the feeling of reassurance. It was as though a piece of the weight she had always carried on her shoulders had been lifted. She wasn't alone! She did not have to fight alone and that fact seemed to ease her anxiety and slow the rapid beating of her heart.

That was not the only source of newly found comfort, either, although her last one was rather dark. Kiethara knew that her situation was balanced on the tip of a knife. There was only two different ways this could go.

She could do what she had been meant to do from the first time she had met her father—defeat him. But not just momentarily. She could end this permanently. And once that happened, she would relax the muscles in her body that had not unwound since he got here. If she could deal with Gandador and his faithful minions, she would have no problems. Fantasies of peaceful days and even a possible family danced in her head...

Or she could fail. Gandador could kill her friends and disable her so he could run his insane experiments on her powers. He could spend as long as he wanted to strip away her magic until he failed—which Kiethara strongly suspected he would—and then he would resort to his original plan and kill her. Whatever happened, her world would be destroyed.

Two completely different possibilities that made for two completely different worlds. The disparity between them was frightening, so frightening that it was almost unreal. She was having trouble wrapping her head around the concept that something was about to change.

Even though she disliked being kept on this edge, at least she was familiar with it. No matter what it turned out to be, there would be no surprises in store for her. She had had enough of those, anyway.

All of this ran through her mind as Kiethara lay in her hammock, trying to make out the stars between the leaves of the two trees supporting it. Besides her, Camella was snoring softly in her makeshift bedding, her nose twitching as she slept.

Navadar was not here. At least, not in her clearing. His sleeping arrangement had been decided yesterday.

"Could I bring my horse here?" Navadar had asked. "He'll be able to graze, and I'll keep him tied. I just don't want to have to walk back and forth through the forest to water him."

"Of course!" Kiethara answered.

"Whoa, hold it, now," Camella had interrupted. "He can't stay in this clearing."

"Why not?" she demanded.

"It would be like sharing a roof before you were married!" Camella had said, shocked. Kiethara just stared at her, incomprehensive.

"She's right," Navadar agreed, a bit reluctantly.

"He's taking advantage of your naivety," Camella said, throwing him a stern glare. Then she had turned to smile warmly at Kiethara. "I think it's adorable."

Kiethara tried to suppress a grin, rolling her eyes.

"I'll sleep with my horse, then," he said.

"You don't deserve to go anywhere near that horse if you don't give him a name," Camella remarked.

"He used to belong to my father's brother, who had originally named him. One day my uncle had come to my house, white as a sheet and shaking, handing over the reins to me as a present. I later found out that he had stolen the horse a long time ago, and the previous owner was seeking revenge. I tried to rename him, but he won't respond. But I keep his true name a secret, just in case."

Both of the girls had stared at him with their mouths open.

Kiethara smiled at the memory, rocking herself back and forth. For some reason, she could not fall asleep. It was very warm, with not a single breeze to ruffle the leaves. It was also unnaturally quiet, as though every animal had fallen asleep with her two friends.

It was kind of ironic, because not a week ago Kiethara had been well acclimated to silence. Now, however, she was used to the noise that came from living with two other people. It made her wonder how crazy she would go if she was ever alone again.

Frustrated, she pulled herself up out of her hammock. She could not just sit there in the hot silence, waiting for sleep she knew would not come. She set off to the east, slowly putting one foot in front of the other as she paced her way through the trees.

After a couple of minutes, though, she found it to be quite the opposite of helpful. Not only did she feel more awake, but it got her thinking of things that would certainly get her in trouble...

Camella seemed to be on two different sides of the world when it came to Navadar. As soon as the two girls got some alone time, they gushed over every aspect of him, reviewing every conversation and facial expression that Kiethara was willing to describe. Camella made no attempt to hide her envy, sighing dreamily whenever Kiethara descried how he held her sometimes. But on the other hand, she was being annoyingly strict on what she called "appropriate boundaries."

"I understand that you don't understand," she had said. "But in the kingdoms, we girls don't just give our love away for free, nor do we hand ourselves over this easily! What has he promised you? Nothing! He could walk away right now without the shame of unfinished obligation! You have to make it a little harder for him, Kiethara. Make him beg, hold yourself back a little. Make sure he knows he can't just take what he wants!"

With that speech, she had declared she would limit the amount of alone time Kiethara could have with him. Kiethara had not really believed her at first, but she was surprised at how Camella proved herself true to her word. The moment she got a free moment with him, Camella would appear, fabricating a task to be completed or a discussion that had to be had. Navadar was good natured about it, but Kiethara never missed an opportunity to scowl at her friend from behind his back. She always received a sly wink in return.

Now, however...

Kiethara did not know exactly where Navadar was sleeping, but equipped with her connection, she figured it shouldn't be too hard. Once she found him, she promised herself, she wouldn't disturb him.

With that thought in mind, she pushed herself off the ground and glided above the trees. The breeze that her flight created did wonders to cool the sweat that kissed at her neck and forehead. The moon above her was bright and the stars were numerous. A cloudless night.

She moved slowly, not wanting to miss him. It was so unfortunate his presence was so—

Wait! She froze in the air, as still as the leaves before her. She sensed a light presence moving below her. Moving in the direction she had been coming from. She ducked beneath the canopy.

There it was, a shadowed figure weaving slowly through the trees. His boots made soft thuds against the soil, his hands quietly beating away the lower limbs of the trees. Kiethara's heart raced ahead, but it had nothing to do with fear. She knew that stature.

Quietly, she eased herself lower until she was hovering just an inch above the grass. She inched forward, toward his back.

"Hello," she murmured into his ear, making him jump. She laughed quietly.

"Kiethara!" he exclaimed in a breathless voice. "Can you please stop doing that?"

"It's too much fun."

"Not for me," he grinned.

"What are you doing up so late?" she asked.

"I couldn't sleep," he admitted. "So I was just walking..."

"Me, too," she whispered. "Well, flying, actually."

"Flying would be nice. It would be cool, at least."

"Oh, it's lovely. You should try it."

"I don't think flying would suit me very well," he told her, eyes sparking handsomely. "I wouldn't be as graceful as you."

Kiethara hoped the dark would hide her burning cheeks.

"Besides," he continued. "Some of us like to walk. Would you, perhaps, honor me with a walk?"

He held out his elbow. Kiethara had seen couples walking in this manner when she had been in Redawn, so she was hesitate as she placed her hand in what she hoped to be the proper position. When Navadar smiled his approval, she beamed back, pleased.

"Why, I'd be happy to."

They began their moonlit walk at a leisurely pace. No one said anything for a moment, but it was a pleasant silence. She used the time to focus on slowing the rapid thumping of her heart.

"So why can't you sleep?" he asked easily.

"I was just...thinking," she said slowly. "I couldn't seem to stop thinking. Worrying, actually..."

"What are you worried about?" he asked gently.

She took a deep breath and tried to make her tone as light as possible. "Gandador, naturally."

"I won't let him hurt you," Navadar promised a bit fiercely.

"That's not what I'm worried about," Kiethara replied, rolling her eyes. "Another scar or two can't make that much of a difference."

"They're fading," he comforted her.

It was true. The scars on her right arm and upper thigh were fading. They had slowly transitioned from a bright pink to an inconspicuous white, which was becoming less noticeable with each passing day.

"Yes, you're right," she said in an unconvincing tone.

"But you're still worried," he continued.

"I don't know what will happen," she whispered into the night. "I don't know when it will happen. I don't know how he'll come, or who he'll bring, or what he'll do. I don't know if we'll be able to win, or if we even have a chance at escaping with our lives. I don't know what losses I'll manage to inflict on him, or what losses he will inflict on us. We'll suffer, he'll suffer...the point is, I just don't know!"

Kiethara had not expected to say that much, but once she had started, she had not been able to stop herself. She took a deep, slow breath and focused her eyes on the trees above.

They paced forward at an even slower rate. She could tell Navadar was doing some very heavy thinking.

"You have a lot on your shoulders," he said softly. "You take on such a great accountability—willingly, too—that sometimes I fear it will crush you."

"It won't," she replied fiercely.

Navadar smiled.

"What?"

He continued to smile.

Kiethara's eyebrows furrowed over as she went over the past few moments in her head. What had him grinning like he was indulging a small child?

"Oh," she mumbled sheepishly.

"So it won't crush you," he said simply. "There's no reason to worry, then."

Kiethara shook her head. "If you think I'm only worried about myself, then you're sadly mistaken."

"Don't you be worrying about anything else. As I said, you have to carry a major responsibility as it is. You do not have any room to add on two other lives to that burden."

"These two lives are very important!" she argued. "When did my battles become yours?"

"The moment you told me you loved me," he answered austerely, stopping and spinning her around to face him. "When your love is my love, when your home becomes my home, then your battles become my battles."

Kiethara's lips parted and her navy blue eyes widened. She had an odd, tingling sensation that ran through the course of her body.

"But what if that is one burden I cannot bear?" she asked him softly.

"Then I'll bear it for you," he smiled. "Like I said, you need not worry about me. I can take care of myself."

She could see that he would allow no further argument on the subject. "Promise me."

"I promise," he smirked.

Feeling considerably better, she and he continued to walk.

"So why couldn't you sleep?" she asked.

"I was...worrying, too," he admitted with a sheepish grin.

"Oh?" she smiled.

"I suppose it's about the same thing you were," he said, sounding as though he was having a hard time putting his thoughts into words. "I understand what we have to do and I understand what you have to do. Even though I understand, though, that doesn't mean I care for it."

Kiethara was confused. "You don't care for killing Gandador?"

"No, no! I want him dead, cold, and disgraced, but I want to be the one to do it. What I mean is...I can't stand the idea of you...fighting him..."

He trailed off and his eyes became distant. Kiethara knew what he was remembering and opened her mouth to sooth his worries, but he began again.

"I've seen it before; I've seen the aftermath of his visits in your eyes. I know how intense it gets, and I just can't see you hurt again..."

This time it was him who had to take a deep breath and it was her who had to stop their momentum and turn him towards her. She had never felt more loved, more cared for, and she had never felt such a love for another human being in her life. Was it possible?

"I can't promise you that I won't get hurt," she murmured. "But I can promise that I will do everything within my power to end this as quickly and as painlessly as possible."

"I don't want you to try, though! I can't bear it..." he shuddered, unable to finish the thought.

"I'll bear it," she whispered. "I have to. You should know this. If you do love me, you must let me be a guardian, because that's exactly with whom you have fallen in love with."

Her words seemed to do the trick. He nodded, the bleakness in his eyes lifting.

"I know," he sighed. "I understand...you are unlike any woman I have ever met before, and I'm still trying to accept that."

"You were the first man I met who didn't want to kill me," she told him lightly, smiling. "I'm still trying to accept _that._ "

He laughed. "Don't worry, I have your back."

"I'm counting on that," she grinned.

### ***

"All right, girl and boy!" Camella declared, placing her fists on her hips.

Kiethara and Navadar were sitting cross legged in the grass of her clearing, looking up at Camella with expectant and slightly amused expressions. They were gathered like this—not that there were many people to be gathered—for an "official meeting." Early that morning, when the memory of her moonlit conversation was still fresh in her mind, Kiethara had mentioned that they needed to be prepared. This light reminder had instantly animated Camella into action. With her usual peculiar energy and attitude, she had rocketed off, calling back over her shoulder to meet her back here in the evening.

Now she stood before them, a white cloth holding back her chin length hair and clay streaked on her cheeks. By her feet was an assortment of objects.

"An enemy is looming in the shadows," she began dramatically. "They are ready to pounce at any moment. In order to keep the fangs of the beast away from our flesh, we must prepare our plans and arm our bodies! Only then can we sink our own fangs into the opposing neck!"

"Hear, hear!" Kiethara called.

Camella grinned, pleased with her response.

"Now, I've collected as many items as I thought would aid us in this task. Here, as you can see, we have four bamboo sheaths, one machete—compliments to my grandfather—a rope, a metal pot, a dagger, your sword, and your bow—"

"Hold on," Navadar interrupted as she pointed to the weapon on his back. "Isn't that the rope I keep in my saddle bag?"

"I took the liberty," she grinned, and he rolled his eyes. "Anyway, besides an endless supply of lumber and foliage, that's all we have. Now, Kiethara, I give the stage to you."

With a bow, Camella fluidly sank into a sitting position on the other side of Navadar.

"To me?" she asked, her eyes widening.

"Yes, you! I'm the gatherer and you, my dear, are the warrior. Now go up there and tell us how we can use them against Gandador!"

"Well," Kiethara mused, standing to face them. She bit her lip as she examined the pile at her feet. Aaron's physical combat training sounded in her head.

_You can use anything as a weapon, Kiethara,_ he had told her. _Not just magic. Learn to fight with the land around you._

Kiethara took a deep breath and looked at the land before her. Aaron was right—when was he not?—she could use it.

"The bamboo is good. We can either use it to defend against their weapons, or sharpen them for projectiles."

"Yes, ma'am!" Camella agreed enthusiastically. "Navadar, get on it."

"Who gave you the authority to give out orders?" he demanded.

"Why, I did."

"Of course..."

"Do you two mind?" Kiethara asked in exasperation.

"Apologies! Navadar, shut up."

"Why don't you!"

"All right, all right, harp on each other later," Kiethara huffed, all too used to their behavior. "The pot...hmm...I could make my poison potion to fill it..."

"Oh, and one of us could stay hidden in a tree and pour it down on their heads!" Camella suggested.

"Perfect," Kiethara grinned. "I bestow that job upon you, Camella."

"I accept it with honor," she grinned in return.

"The rope...could we soak that in a potion, perhaps?" Navadar asked.

"Oh!" Kiethara gasped. "That could work!"

"Would we soak it in the poison?" Camella asked.

"I have another concoction that we can inflict on them," she smiled wickedly. "I used it on Sinsenta once."

"What does it do?"

Kiethara pulled the ice blue, liquid-filled bottle from her vine belt. "It paralyzes you."

Both of them gasped.

"That's really powerful!" Camella exclaimed.

"Oh, yes," she said. "It's not a pleasant feeling, either. It lasts for hours, and all the while you can't move the burning limb."

"If that were to hit someone's neck..." Navadar trailed off suggestively.

"Dead," Camella said matter-of-factly.

"Now, I'm not sure how well this would work, but if we soaked the rope in the potion..." Kiethara picked up the coarse rope and weighed it in her hands. "Then we could lasso it around their necks..."

"We could kill them," Camella finished quietly.

"I think I know what we will do," Kiethara took a deep breath. "You two will be hidden with these weapons and potions somewhere in the trees. I'll be alone. They way when they come—expecting only me—we can surprise them."

Camella nodded, but Navadar pursed his lips.

"It's the best way," she told him.

"How do we know where Gandador will come from?" Camella asked.

"Trust me, he'll come to wherever I am. All I have to do is wait," Kiethara sighed.

"Sounds good," she replied. "What else?"

"Well," Kiethara hesitated. "I'm not really sure...I mean, we can't really plan the fight, only what leads up to it."

Both of them looked very uncomfortable with that idea. Kiethara panicked, afraid she was making their cause seem hopeless.

"Listen, this is better preparation than I've ever had," she told them sincerely. "Using these tactics leaves me no doubt we'll be able to inflict something on them early in the battle. From there, I can't tell what will happen. But we have training, we have our strengths, and we have numbers. We just need to build confidence! While we wait for him, we will continue preparing, planning, and building our way to the best we can be! They have nothing on us."

"I agree!" Camella proclaimed, jumping to her feet, inspired. "We all know what we're up against!"

"And we all know they don't stand a chance against the forest," Navadar added, standing as well. "No one has."

"Exactly," Kiethara agreed fiercely.

"Here's to building Kiethara's kingdom!" Camella cried.

Smiling, they all grasped each other's hands, building confidence and unity as they anticipated the onslaught.

CHAPTER 63

### RESTLESS

The next day, Kiethara found herself staring at the pile of miscellaneous objects and weapons on the forest floor, basking in the irony of it.

Navadar and Camella were hunting. Kiethara had rolled her eyes when Camella had informed her that the two of them would be collecting dinner together. Their bickering would most likely scare the wildlife away before they could catch it.

So Kiethara was quite alone for the moment, the serene silence reminding her of old times. Especially this pile, collected besides her hammock. A year ago, give or take a few weeks, she had once owned a very similar pile. One made of a blanket, woven baskets, a locket...She fingered the locket around her neck now. It was the only thing, besides her, that had endured.

But while the old was long gone, the new was present and fresh before her. It had once been so new to her—the fighting, the weapons, the strangers from another world...Look at her now! Designing flimsy battle strategies that were all centered on the pile of odd-ended weapons she now owned.

This morning she had begun to put her plans in motion—they really had no time to waste—by making potions. She had hiked Camella's pot to a river as soon as the sun had risen. She was not sure how to make the potion in a pot instead of a bottle, so she had just dumped her existing potion into the pot and continued remaking it inside her bottle. The process had taken a while, but it had given her the results she had wanted. Under her hammock sat the pot, with the rope soaking inside it.

Would it be enough?

She had asked herself that question all night. Thinking it through, she still figured they had the upper hand. As far as she knew, Gandador had the ability to bring two people with him: Sinsenta and Tryke. If that happened, there would three men who all had legitimate training in magic against three others, two of whom had really no measurable power. Sure, Camella could use magic, but she didn't know that much. It wasn't enough.

Dredging up some optimism, Kiethara tried to consider something positive. Perhaps all three of them would not come. Gandador, like the last time, might decide to come alone.

Somehow in the pit of her stomach she knew that was very unlikely.

Gandador had been gone for a long time. Longer, in fact, then he had ever been away before. She did not figure herself lucky enough to have him die outside the forest, and that only left one option: he was busy planning an assault of his own.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a subtle warning from her connection, which she kept present in the front of her mind now at all times. It was a faint thing, but it still managed to prick at her connection as it approached from the south side of her clearing.

Kiethara spun on her heel and turned invisible, easing herself behind one of the two trees that supported her hammock so the belts tied around her waist would be hidden. She held her breath cautiously, waiting. A twig snapped.

And then Markii emerged from the trees, his slow and cautious pace easing her panic. Nothing about him had changed. His midnight hair fell a little longer, perhaps, but his gray eyes continued to roam the surrounding area. His body was tense, weapon drawn, and his expression was devoid of any emotion.

The true step of a wary warrior.

Kiethara let out a breath of relief as she turned visible. She stepped out from behind the tree.

"Markii!" she smiled.

She had expected him to jump, as everyone did with her sudden appearances, but his eyes simply focused on her for a brief moment before they continued their restless roaming.

Although she would never admit it to anyone, Markii intimidated her.

He nodded in her direction as he walked forward, pausing a couple of feet away.

Kiethara looked at his harsh features, trying to distinguish something to tell her a bit about him. Was he all right? Was his tribe all right? Also, the most pressing question of all...

"How has the forest fared?" he asked suddenly, surprising her. Her mind whirled as she thought backwards to his last visit.

"Well enough," she said, unsure if he needed to know about Aaron. Or maybe unwilling was a better way to describe it.

He nodded again.

"Markii," she finally said, unable to bear the silence and suspense any longer. "Please, tell me...did Durga...?"

He finally looked directly at her. There was no change to his expression or his manner when he spoke.

"Yes."

Kiethara inhaled sharply. Her gut plunged in a horrible sensation, a familiar sensation, one that she had no desire to relive. Of course, the feeling was only a mere echo of what Aaron's loss had caused her.

Perhaps that was why it was so easy to bear this time.

So instead of letting her emotions take over her, instead of mourning and grieving for a loss that could not have been helped, Kiethara swallowed back the lump in her throat. She blinked rapidly for a moment, clearing the tears from her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she finally managed to say. "I pray she went peacefully."

"So she did," he confirmed. "She died simply from living too long. There was no disease, no infliction, no painful wound...she was strong till the end, too. She went in the middle of a rant."

Although his features were as hard as ever, she could have sworn that the last statement held a smile.

"A blessing in these times."

He did not say anything to that. His eyes roamed over the clearing again.

"You seem to have much more here," he pointed out bluntly.

"Yes," she admitted. "Although I appreciate your visit, you've come at a tough time."

"Is the forest endangered?" he asked abruptly.

Kiethara debated quickly inside her head. She did not want to weigh him down with her situation, especially after the death of Durga. But for some reason, she felt as though she could not lie to him. Maybe it was those unrelenting features, or maybe it was his sharp gaze. Whatever the reason, she felt compelled to tell him. Durga and he had always been concerned about the forest's welfare.

"I wouldn't exactly phrase it like that," she hedged. "Essentially, though, we think so."

"My friends Camella and Navadar are here with me now," she explained. "They're from Redawn, and Gandador has effected them both, so when they found out I was preparing to fight and end him, they decided to stick around."

Markii was silent for a moment. Then he nodded.

"Gandador has effected my tribe as well," he said in a slightly huskier voice. His remote expression became more intense by a degree.

"I know," Kiethara whispered in response. "I'll end it, I swear."

"I believe you," he said. He did not say it as encouragement, or as though he was soothing her worries. He said it as a simple, blunt fact.

Kiethara bit her lip, unsure of what else to say. Durga was not here to fill the silence that Markii's presence always caused. Nor was there an adversary for the two of them to fight. Although there very easily could be.

"You're certain Gandador is coming?" Markii asked suddenly.

"No," she admitted. "But I'm fairly convinced. If he follows his old patterns, if you could call them that, he'll come to attack or send someone to very soon."

"What if he doesn't come and someone else does?"

"Well, I'm still going to take care of them," she said grimly. "However, I think he will come. This is the longest he's gone without attacking. He's either preoccupied, or busy planning something big for the forest."

"How long has he been gone?"

Kiethara sighed as she tried to think it over. The forest was changeless. Time was hard to tell. "At least a month."

"A month is a long time to formulate a plan," Markii pointed out.

Kiethara swallowed. "I know."

"Do you have a plan?"

"Of course," Kiethara sniffed, proud. "At least, we're working on it."

He just looked at her.

"It's difficult," she explained. "We don't have any solid information, only a couple of estimations and a few theories. We don't know when, or how many, or anything else, for that matter. I don't even know what Gandador's trying to do to me anymore!"

Markii raised an eyebrow.

She put a hand over her eyes. "It's a long, painful story."

"It seems like, no mater what occurs, you could use some assistance," he observed calmly. Kiethara looked up at him, surprised.

"You said there are already others here," he explained evenly. "I can stay here as well to help you prepare. I can help the fight."

Kiethara's mouth fell open. Was he really offering what she thought? What was going on with him? Not only has he spoken more in this one conversation than all their other conversations combined, but he was asking her to stay in the forest. She could not even picture it in her head.

"What about your tribe?" she asked.

"If you're right, the trouble will be here, not with them," he said.

"Fair point," she breathed, still amazed at his offer. "Are you sure you want to stay here, though? It's going to be dangerous, and it's going to be hard."

Don't worry," he told her. "I understand what it entitles."

He was the first one to admit it.

"It just seems..." she struggled to find the right words. "There's a lot of magic here. I don't want you to feel like you have to—"

"I have to," he interrupted bluntly. "But not because of you. Before Durga passed, she made me promise that I would help you and the forest in any way I could."

"You've already assisted the forest exponentially," she reminded him.

"I know what I've done," he told her flatly, almost rudely. "And I know what I'm going to do."

Kiethara bit her lip, afraid that she had angered him. It was so hard to tell though, for his features and his tone never changed.

"If that is really what you want, then you are welcome here," she said.

He nodded. She took that as his expression of gratitude for her acceptance. If she wasn't so intimidated by him, she would be rather angry at his blunt reasoning.

"If you're staying here," she continued. "Which I suppose you are, then I'll need to bring you up to speed on what we have so far. Suggestions or any ideas are welcome, please.

"Yesterday, we started—"

Kiethara was interrupted as Camella and Navadar entered her clearing, both pausing in surprise as they spotted Markii. Camella's expression alighted with open wonder and interest. Navadar's expression, however, turned stony after his initial recognition.

"Navadar! Camella!" Kiethara called. "You are finished hunting?"

"Not exactly," Camella said, trailing off. Her mouth was wide.

Navadar did not answer. Instead, he quickly walked towards her and fastened his arm around her waist.

Kiethara reddened, not knowing how to respond to his gesture. He unobtrusively positioned himself so that he was somewhat in between her and Markii, whose expression still had not changed. Kiethara shot Camella an alarmed glance, hoping she would understand. Camella, thank goodness, always caught on quickly.

"Who's this?" Camella asked, strategically placing herself so it seemed they were all standing in a circle.

"This is Markii," Kiethara introduced, somewhat awkwardly. Markii quickly examined each of them before his eyes continued their restless journey. He made no comment on his introduction.

"Markii," she repeated cheerfully. "It's nice to meet you!"

He nodded.

Kiethara looked up at Navadar's stony face nervously. "Markii is a friend of mine...and he's offered to stay here and help us."

"He did?" Navadar asked, finally speaking.

"Yes."

"Wonderful!" Camella clapped, making Kiethara jump. "The more help, the better. We should explain to him our plans, should we not?"

"That's just what was doing before you came. What happened to hunting?"

"Oh, the deer got away," Camella said dismissively. "I don't think we'll be able to catch anything before dinner time. We might have time to catch some fish, though."

Kiethara did some very quick thinking. She desperately needed to talk to Camella alone, but that meant leaving Markii and Navadar alone. She quickly banished that idea from her head. On the other hand, she needed to speak to Navadar alone, for his chiseled features were almost as hard as Markii's were.

"Why don't Navadar and I go figure out a meal, while you and Markii set up here? Maybe you could find a place for him to sleep, to..." Kiethara prayed silently that Camella would know to keep him far, far away from where Navadar slept.

"Perfect," she grinned. Kiethara unhooked herself from Navadar's arm, but she grabbed his hand and began pulling him out of the clearing. Before they entered the trees, she shot Camella a look she hoped could explain the situation. Camella flashed an understanding wink and relief flooded through Kiethara. She did not know what she would do without her friend.

As soon as the two of them had walked a reasonable distance Kiethara stopped their pace.

"Navadar."

He turned to look at her, his eyebrows meshed over his green eyes. She crossed her arms.

"Listen, Navadar—"

"I don't like it," he said flatly.

"Well, I can see that. There's no reason for you not to, though."

"There's every reason not to like it!"

"Explain them to me, then," she said angrily. "Because I can't find any for the life of me!"

"Well, I mean, just look at him!" he began wildly. "He's more stone than he is human! It just doesn't feel right, having him here. I don't trust him."

"You don't trust him with what?" she asked coolly.

That threw him for a moment. Perhaps it was the way she had asked the question; she wanted specifics. She felt a thrill of smugness as she watched Navadar struggle to conjure them.

"I don't trust him with the fight," he finally decided. "It seems like he'll turn on us at any moment. He's probably working for Gandador, or being enchanted by him!"

Kiethara snorted. She had given him that idea when she had tried to explain why Aaron had not trusted him. "Markii doesn't use magic, either. He's just as immune to that as you are."

"He could still betray us!"

"I've fought by his side before," she reminded him. "He killed Swallin for me. He helped protect the forest. Just as you have."

"He's only fought Swallin. Camella and I have both dealt with Gandador. This Markii has no idea what's he in for," Navadar said hotly.

"All right, this is getting ridiculous," Kiethara interrupted. "Markii is perfectly capable for this fight. He's proven his loyalty, just as I thought I have proven mine."

"What does that mean?" Navadar blinked, confused.

"Navadar, don't pretend. I know what this is about. I'm hurt that you have such little faith in me! You are the only man in my life, and I'm not about to change that."

Navadar scowled and reddened, but he did not back down. "It's not you I don't trust, it's him."

"Well, I do," she said with a tone that rang with finality. "And if you trust my judgment, so should you."

He looked as though he was going to continue arguing, but instead he seemed to swallow his words. He exhaled and nodded.

"Thank you," she exhaled, relaxing. "Now work your magic and do that horrid act of catching dinner."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Don't look at me like that. I don't kill squirrels."

"Neither do I. You can't eat squirrels, Kiethara."

She sighed and dropped herself to the grass, closing her eyes. "Thank goodness for that, then."

Navadar chuckled and knelt down next to her.

"You look tired," he murmured, brushing her hair from her face.

"Mm," she agreed, turning her head towards him. "We still have a lot of work to do."

"Perhaps," he said, tracing her thin lips with his fingers. "But we'll get it done, Kiethara, I promise. You need not stress yourself out about it. You're not alone."

"I'll try to keep that in mind as I look to the skies, waiting for Gandador's fire balls to rain down on our heads," she mumbled.

"Haven't we talked about you and this bleak attitude of yours before? Where's the bright optimism I taught you?" he asked.

She laughed, remembering the conversation they had had so long ago, after the fire.

"That's better. Now, let me go get us some dinner."

"All right."

He left her there, lying on the forest floor. She looked up at the canopy above her, unable to diminish the uneasy, restless feeling she had in her chest. A list of priorities ran through her head, seeming more looming after every passing second. She felt it in her chest; Gandador's attack was lurking in the immense shadows.

She would not get any rest until this was over.

Whether that rest would be eternal or not, she did not know.

CHAPTER 64

### TRUST

Markii—much to Kiethara's and Camella's delight, as well as to Navadar's immense irritation—supplied them with numerous ideas to help perfect their strategies. He might have only come clad with the sword on his back, but hidden in his heritage were techniques and skills he had been blessed with by his tribe. During dinner, some of his suggestions set three pairs of eyes wide in awe. Whoever this anonymous tribe was, Kiethara could tell that their culture, seemingly similar to Redawn, was in fact much different.

For instance, Markii explained to them that clay was a particularly useful substance to utilize. He knew several different methods in molding it, heating it, and manipulating it into practical weapons. Balls of hardened clay turned out to be very deadly, especially when covered in sharpened bamboo needles. Clay could also be used to make arrow tips, which Navadar required. It could even be used as a shield, although not one that would last for very long. What really made the substance valuable, though, was its availability. He was certain that the forest floor would have plenty of clay to offer them.

They had continued the topic of weapons throughout the remainder of the meal. Kiethara nodded and smiled as they brainstormed more and more possibilities, but she could not help from feeling dismayed. Not one of the weapons they were discussing involved magic.

Of course, she knew that Navadar and Markii did not use magic. Only Camella did, and a scant amount at that. Still, when she agreed to let them help her, she had not expected this. Plans that pulled further and further away from magic and potions and more towards...well, useless devices, in her opinion. She knew the value of a sword, but its value came to play only in certain situations. When there was no magic, she needed a blade. For the most part, she used it paired _with_ magic.

Did they not see the flaws in their tactics? Did they not realize that her father could disintegrate the arrow before it was released, render them incapable from lifting a blade, or dodge their missiles by simply disappearing? It was a battle of power, and she could see no power in objects of clay and steel. But how could she tell them that?

There was another dilemma she faced as well. Aaron had told her not to reveal her training or techniques carelessly, as her mother had. It had consequences. Did that apply here, though? Kiethara desperately wanted to show them her training, so they could grasp what they were up against. Maybe she could even teach Camella a few tricks. It was a question of trust and common sense to give her friends a better chance, or loyalty to Aaron.

She chewed it over all night. She tossed in her hammock, Camella's light snore unable to lull her into the deep sleep it normally did. Aaron's stressed warnings resounded in her every thought, yet they were shadowed by a small voice of reason. _Reason_.

Everything happened for a reason. How long had it been since she had applied her favorite proverb? She smiled softly at the night as she began to see points of reason, like stars lighting up on a darkening horizon. Had she met Camella's grandfather so she could have his granddaughter's help now? Did Durga die in time for Markii's unwavering allegiance to turn from protecting her to aiding the forest?

Why had Aaron left her?

That one was a little harder for her to answer. It was almost as hard as the question of whether she should reveal her training to them or not.

By morning she had her answer.

Markii was sleeping around the same area that Navadar was. Kiethara had had no hand in it—it had been all Camella's doing. She had insisted that it was more convenient, in case the girls ever had to get to them quickly. Markii had made no comment as per usual, but she had heard Navadar's teeth grinding together.

So Kiethara had to wait for them to arrive in her clearing before she could make her announcement. She fidgeted as dawn turned into a bright, beautiful morning.

"You're up early," Camella yawned, lifting herself off the ground with a groan.

"When do you think—" she began to ask, but then just then the men walked through the trees.

"Navadar! Markii!" she called with a smile.

"Good morning," Navadar said as he walked over to her. Markii stopped at the fringe of the trees. "You look a little...keyed up."

Kiethara just nodded. She was practically bouncing on her heels. "Can everyone gather around?"

Navadar and Camella were quick to stand before her, but Markii was not. His gray eyes narrowed the tiniest bit.

Camella crossed her arms and coughed conspicuously. Her eyes narrowed, too, as her gaze focused solely on Markii. She coughed again, so loud and obnoxious that Navadar had to stifle his laughter with his fist. Kiethara bit her lip.

Markii's restless gaze stopped on Camella for a brief second before he approached their group with unmistakable caution. Camella sighed and rolled her eyes, turning back to Kiethara with a raised eyebrow.

This time, it was Kiethara trying to stifle laughter. She knew the two of them would never get used to Markii's extreme behavior. She had a hard time swallowing it sometimes, too.

"Everyone's here now, ma'am!" Camella declared, clicking her heels.

"Thank you, General," Kiethara said, rolling her eyes.

"Is that my rank?" she asked excitedly.

"Um..."

"Does Navadar have a rank?"

"I don't know..."

"Does that mean I'm superior to him?"

"What?"

"I'll take that as a yes," she confirmed, turning to Navadar. "Now that we've established that you're my subordinate—"

"I am not your subordinate!" Navadar argued. "Let's establish _that_ —"

"Guys!" Kiethara yelled, exasperated. "We are so beyond the point right now it's not even funny."

They both ducked their heads.

"Pay attention," Camella hissed at Navadar, slapping him upside the head. Navadar elbowed her.

"Aye," Kiethara moaned, placing her head in her hands.

"Our apologies," Camella told her. "What is it?"

"Well, here's the thing..." Kiethara took a deep breath. "I really admire and appreciate the work we've done so far. Truly, I do. But I think we're straying too far away from the real weapon that is going to be used—magic."

"Navadar and Markii don't use magic," Camella reminded her quietly.

"I know," she said. "But I still think that perhaps if I show you my own power, the techniques that Aaron taught me, it could help. Maybe once you see what you're up against, you will be better suited to avoid it."

"That makes sense," Navadar coincided.

"It's smart," Markii added suddenly. Kiethara smiled. It took so much to gain his approval.

"I want to do this fast. Gandador can come sweeping in at any moment. Go sit by my hammock and we can get started."

They complied—somewhat at least. Camella threw herself to the assigned seating, and Navadar sat besides her, leaning against one of the two trees with one leg out and one bent. Markii, however, went to stand next to the tree on the other side of the hammock, Kiethara sighed softly.

She thought hard for a second. How could she condense everything Aaron had taught her into a day's lecture?

"All right," she began. "There are four elements—"

"Earth, water, wind, and fire," Camella interjected.

"Right, which are controlled by—"

"Emotions," Navadar interrupted with a crooked grin.

"Right again," Kiethara smiled. "You're more informed than I would have ventured to guess."

"We're not that thick," Camella noted.

"What Camella probably meant to say," Navadar said, throwing a hard glance at Camella. "Is that we've paid attention."

"We'll see about that," she grinned. "Now, let's get into specifics. Someone throw me an emotion."

"Anger!" Camella called at once.

Kiethara's hands burst into flames. The flames were tamed, though, not fueled by any anger. She was too well practiced to need emotion to accomplish that; however, she wanted to show them what she could really do.

"Someone make me mad," she asked.

"I volunteer Navadar."

Navadar shot Camella an annoyed look.

"Well, get on with it," she urged.

He sighed. "How am I supposed to make you mad? And why is it necessary?"

"It's necessary because I want you to witness the extent of every aspect of magic."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"Your worst," she challenged, raising an eyebrow and putting a hand on her hip.

He gazed at her for a long moment, thinking. Then his smile widened.

"Why don't we demonstrate a different emotion?" he murmured.

Navadar stepped forward until he was a mere inch before her face. Kiethara could feel her cheeks burning into a deep pink as he touched his nose to hers. For a moment, she was lost in the depth of his eyes...

She then remembered that they were not alone, that Camella and Markii were observing this display only a few yards away. Embarrassment flooded through her.

"There," Navadar said triumphantly, stepping to the side. Camella laughed heartily.

"Brilliant!"

Kiethara looked down. Of course, she was invisible. Navadar's sudden display of affection was merely a tease.

If that's the way he wanted it...

She dropped her sword belt and her vine belt. Navadar's eyes widened and he took a step back apprehensively.

"What's going on?" Camella demanded.

"Kiethara?" Navadar asked warily.

Kiethara took a couple of steps backward, just to make sure. She was going to show them how serious she was trying to be. A good scare might be the only way to accomplish that.

She closed her eyes and focused hard on a face that never failed to make her angry: Sinsenta's. She remembered his taunts, his jeers, and used them to form the depth of the emotion she needed.

A pillar of fire literally exploded from her upraised hands, shooting twenty feet in the air. The heat was painful from where she stood, the flames thick. She did not keep it up for long, but it was just enough.

Navadar skidded back a good few feet as Camella emitted a shriek, jumping up. Only Markii remained completely still. She watched him in astonishment as his eyes narrowed and his arms crossed nonchalantly. He had no other reaction. Did he ever scare?

Kiethara silently stalked towards him, gliding an inch above the grass. She held her breath, allowing the wind to rustle the trees around her.

"Navadar, where is she?" Camella asked nervously.

"H-How am I supposed to know?" he stuttered, scanning the clearing. "Kiethara, we get it. Turn visible, please..."

She did not think they did. Especially Markii. She was getting a bit annoyed at his confidence. She wanted to see it shaken.

As soon as she got closer to him, however, his vigilant eyes—which had been roaming—froze and narrowed in on her. She looked down to check to see if she had turned visible. How did he do that? Slowly, she eased herself up and around him.

She raised her finger to the back of his neck and created a small spark of flame.

Markii's sword was whistling through the air before she had realized it had been unsheathed. She barely managed to avoid the blade as she ducked to the side.

Anger sparked by pride roared inside her. He had almost killed her! And she still saw no fear!

Kiethara's leg swung around and planted itself in the small of his back before he could recover from his swing. He grunted as he stumbled forward, but he still managed to turn and grab her arm in reaction. She had not realized that she had turned visible.

Again, her leg flew up until it made contact with his chin. He let go of her, and before he could do anything else, she set her hands on fire and shoved him to the ground.

In the same swift, instinctive motion she placed her knee on his chest and her burning hands by his neck.

The clearing was silent.

Breathing heavily, she stood up. It took her a moment to set her hands back to their normal state.

Markii was propping himself up on his elbows, spitting a tooth out of his mouth. Sick satisfaction washed through her.

Kiethara finally lifted her head to meet Navadar's and Camella's shocked gazes. Navadar was biting his lip, as though struggling with some internal battle. Camella's jaw had dropped wide.

"There," Kiethara said, breathing heavily. "Perhaps now you'll take me seriously."

"We were taking you seriously," Camella whispered.

"Not seriously enough," she growled. "Some of us seem to still believe that their methods are superior to my magic."

Markii was getting up now.

"Magic is the remedy to the incompetent," he said bluntly.

"Incompetent?" she asked in disbelief. "How can you say that after our fight with Swallin?"

"That's exactly my point," he told her. "I beat his delusions without magic. You fell for them. I applied the final blow, and only with my blade. Fighting was never meant to be tangled with magic."

"Fighting has been involved with magic since the dawn of time!"

"For all you know. Magic is unnecessary."

"Durga used magic!"

"For health purposes, and nothing else," he countered. "What magic is supposed to be used for: domestic uses."

" _Domestic uses?_ How can you fight for the forest if that's what you truly believe?"

"I don't want magic to fall into the wrong hands, or to be destroyed," he said evenly. "I want someone wise and discerning to guard it. You fit that requirement; however, as for the actual fight, I don't think magic is enough to win it. It's just a lot of flare, flash, and bang. Excessive, unnecessary."

"Flare. Flash. Bang," Kiethara repeated in a dead voice. "Flare, flash, and bang?"

Navadar decided to intercede.

"Markii," he said angrily. "Watch yourself—"

"Kiethara!" Camella called worriedly.

Kiethara gritted her teeth and closed her eyes against the sudden surge of emotion and power. She felt as though she was going to explode. She could see her crystals glowing brightly behind her lids.

"Are you okay?" Navadar asked.

Kiethara opened her eyes. "I need a moment."

Without waiting for an answer, she blasted off the ground. It was such a relief to release the magic that had built up inside her. For a moment, she thought of nothing other than the strong winds in her hair and the sun in her face.

After a moment of fierce acceleration, she slowed. She was so high up and, below her, the horizon stretched far. It reminded her of the first time she had been enlightened to the true size of the forest. She closed her eyes and roamed the vastness with her mind, losing herself deep within her connection.

Markii was no longer in her clearing. He was headed east, back towards where he and Navadar slept. He was alone.

Kiethara threw herself into a sudden dive, her stomach plummeting in tune with her altitude. Just before she reached the tops of the trees she pulled herself up and swept gracefully over the leaves. When she reached Markii, she dived beneath the canopy.

She landed on the balls of her feet a mere foot behind him.

He froze, his hand shooting to his back.

"Don't bother," she said coolly. "I don't feel like laying you on your back again."

Markii turned around. His face was emotionless, but still intense.

"Listen, I'm sorry that I lost control," Kiethara sighed, uncrossing her arms. "Your words...they took me by surprise."

He nodded.

"I didn't know you felt that way about magic. I realize now that I don't know much about your opinions, due to the fact that you don't voice them."

"Opinions—"

"Are unnecessary?" she guessed. "I hope our little spat proved that opinion wrong. I need to know what you think. I need to know why you are here—the whole truth, not certain parts of it. I need to be able to trust you."

"You can trust me," he said evenly. "I will not do anything to harm you."

"That's not—"

"Listen," he said abruptly. "Why I am fighting for the forest...that shouldn't matter so much to you. Just take comfort in the fact that I am. Gandador has hurt a lot of people, but in very different ways. Just as different wounds have different remedies, I have different motives. Just as different remedies have different supplies, I have different fighting techniques. Just as Navadar has, just as Camella has."

"They aren't—"

"They fear you," he interjected. "They love you. I don't want to offend you, but I hold neither of those for you."

Kiethara smiled softly. "You're a rational man, Markii. I can't argue with that."

"Rational men," he said. "Can be trusted."

CHAPTER 65

### ESTABLISHED

A pattern was finally established.

A rhythm seemed to coincide to their days. After her little spat with Markii was resolved, she hurriedly made her way through the rest of her training. She could tell she had unnerved Navadar and Camella, though. They paid strict attention to every word she said, making sure to show complete consideration to her demonstrations. Their puppy-dog devotion made her feel guilty for her loss of control. She had wanted to get them to realize the danger, not make them feel like they had to address her with reverence.

She got through it as quickly as she could, though. She wanted to get them on a defensive mode, to be ready to use everything Kiethara had taught them in a blink of an eye. She established the positions they needed to hold to surprise the enemy—Camella in the tree tops, Navadar crouched in the thick of the bushes, and Markii hidden in a hallow of a tree.

For the next few weeks, everything went smoothly. None of them strayed far from their designated positions. They slept there, they ate there, and they trained there.

Kiethara did not have an appointed position, however, and she was free to roam as she pleased. It was a good thing, for it allowed her to keep her friends from going crazy. She rotated frequently, bringing along with her company food and water that they needed. She kept them well informed and provided communication, which was critical to any efficient plan. She checked on their weapons, refurbished their supplies, trained with them...all the while, she was dangling as bait for Gandador's much anticipated attack.

One rather dreary day, Kiethara was making her way to Camella's outpost. The sky was blanketed with a light gray, intermittent raindrops dropping from the canopy above, only a few managing to find their way down and splash upon her head.

"Kiethara!" Camella called exuberantly, somehow managing to bounce with energy even though she was crouched in a tree. Kiethara smirked. Her friend did not do too well alone.

With swift, practiced movements, she pulled herself into the tree and next to Camella.

"Good morning, princess."

"Princess?" Camella exclaimed. " _Princess?_ Do you want me to explain to you everything that's wrong with that statement?"

Kiethara regarded her reaction warily. "I'm not sure."

She did anyway. "First off, you have the run of the place. If I was in charge, I wouldn't be assigned to a stinking tree."

"I thought you volunteered for this position!"

"Well, yes, that's because it was the best out of the three. At least I'm not _inside_ a tree, like poor Markii."

"He's not—"

"Second," Camella interrupted. "I would have a palace, not just a hammock in a clearing."

Kiethara stuck her tongue out.

"And finally, you're the one who has a Prince Charming," she winked. Kiethara rolled her eyes.

"How is dear Navadar?"

"Good," Kiethara said with a soft smile.

"What on earth does that look on your face mean?" Camella giggled. "Pray tell!"

"That's the thing—I don't know," she sighed. "Tell me, how would we be if I lived in the kingdoms?"

"In Redawn?" she clarified. "Well, you would catch his eye, or at least something would. Your title, wealth, family...then he would court you. Escort you to all your daily activities. After at least a few weeks of this, he would propose publicly. You would say yes, a wedding would be set, and then you would marry."

"That doesn't sound as... _romantic_ as it really happened," Kiethara frowned.

"Oh, good heavens, no! Half of those types of marriages are arranged."

"Arranged?"

"Predetermined, usually by the father of the daughter. Daughters never get a say in the matter."

"That's horrid!"

"Absolutely," Camella agreed. "Which is why what you and Navadar have is so amazing! It's so _free_. I'm jealous."

"That's exactly my point; I don't know what we have! Do you think we will get married?"

Camella bit her lip. "I don't know. Have you talked about it?"

"No."

"Maybe you should."

"No!"

"Why not?"

"I can't do that..." she whispered. "What if he doesn't want to?"

"Why on earth would he not?" she asked in surprise.

"I have a few reasons," Kiethara sighed glumly. "I have no wealth, no title, and no family."

"I'm sure that doesn't matter to him," Camella said quickly.

"Maybe, maybe not. Another thing...sometimes, I'm scared that I'm just here for his convenience. His wish for adventure fulfilled, with an added bonus," she grimaced.

"That's not true!"

"It could be."

Camella raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think that?"

"No," Kiethara admitted.

"Atta girl!" Camella praised cheerfully. "Enough with this self doubt! The harder you play nonchalance, the harder he'll come panting after you. Heck, he might even propose."

"Have you had some experience in this area or something?" she grinned.

"Not yet, dearie," she sighed.

"You will."

Camella smiled with brilliant teeth. "Oh, I know that. I was thinking about Markii, but after I watched you lay him on his backside like that, I'm not so sure."

"Markii?" Kiethara asked in surprise.

Camella reddened slightly. "Sure, I mean, he is a man."

"He's a stone cold rock devoid of any warmth! The complete opposite of you."

"I think there's more to him than that," she mused happily.

Kiethara regarded her friend doubtfully. "I've tried to get through to him on countless occasions. He's so...empty, sometimes. It's intimidating! And I'm never intimidated."

It felt good to get that off her chest. It felt like she was admitting some humiliating weakness.

"I know what you mean," Camella nodded. "But there's something there...and every day he spends with us, it comes closer to the surface. One day, it will come. Something will force it out, and there will be no stopping it!"

"Are you planning on being that something?" Kiethara asked slyly.

"Maybe," Camella grinned. "If I wasn't stuck in a tree!"

Kiethara laughed and slid off the tree. "I'll go convey your heartfelt request to him."

"Oh, no you won't!" Camella gasped.

"Don't worry," she said, rolling her eyes. "I'm headed to Navadar. I'm sure he'll be much more interested in your heartfelt request than Markii will be."

Camella grinned. "Make sure you give him my love. Of course, he'll probably be too distracted by your lustrous body to pay any attention."

"Shut up!" Kiethara threw an orange at her friend.

"What was that?!"

"Your breakfast!" she called over her shoulder.

"Wait! I have something else for you to tell Navadar!"

Kiethara turned suspiciously. "Oh?"

"Tell him 'she wants a knee.' Make sure you tell him I said it."

"A knee? What does that mean?"

"Ask him!" Camella giggled, waving farewell to her.

Brow furrowing, Kiethara walked towards Navadar's post. She took her time, too nervous to fly. Visiting him always sparked some butterflies in her stomach, but today there seemed to be many more. Camella's advice as well as her message ran through her mind over and over. A knee...no conversation with Aaron, or experience in the kingdoms, enlightened her to the meaning of "a knee."

Finally Kiethara curved her way to a bushy area north of her clearing. Her trained eye could barely make out Navadar's form, clad in green and laying in the thick of the bushes.

Silently, she slunk down to her belly in the tall grass. Stealthily, she crawled into the clump, maneuvering between the botany. She had to go very slowly to avoid unnecessary noise, but eventually she managed to wriggle her way to about two feet from Navadar's right.

With a small smile to herself, she crossed her arms and rested her chin on them. She gazed upon her boy, his eyes glazed over as he stared at nothing. He was in his own world.

Kiethara counted to a hundred in her head. And again. She got bored with that, and instead studied his lovely features.

Then, finally, his eyes roamed in her direction. She gazed back at him evenly. It took him a moment to realize what he was seeing—she watched his glazed eyes slowly focus in on her navy blues, his brow furrowing...

He gasped, and she smiled.

"How long have you been there?" he asked in a breathless voice.

She shrugged. "A while."

He chuckled. "You never fail to amaze me."

She smiled hugely in response to his favorite line.

"Anything new?"

"Nope," she sighed. "Maybe he died."

"I thought you said you didn't have that type of luck," he teased.

"And I thought you were the optimist!"

"It's hard to see a bright side when all you can see is the inside of a bush."

Kiethara rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't you start. Camella gave me the same thing."

"For once I can't help but agree with her."

"Oh, she has a couple messages for you."

"Does she?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Mm," Kiethara mumbled, pursing her lips.

"You look worried," he laughed. "They can't be that bad, can they?"

"Not...necessarily," she said slowly.

"What did she say?" he asked, still grinning. "Don't worry, I won't care either way."

"It's not that," she said quickly. "The problem is that I don't understand them."

"Just tell me," he urged.

"She wanted me to pass on her love," she began.

"Is that what you're worried about?" he asked. "Kiethara, she doesn't mean that literally, she's teasing—"

"No, no, I understand that part." she interrupted. "It's the second part."

"What is it?" he asked, wary now.

"Okay," Kiethara huffed. "She said, 'she wants a knee.'"

Navadar was quiet for a moment. Kiethara looked up at him to catch his eyes regarding her. His gaze was so thoughtful, so deep...She could not look away. Her crystals glowed nervously.

"A knee?" he repeated softly.

"Yes," she affirmed, watching his reaction. There was some underlying emotion brewing inside him, but she did not recognize it.

Navadar did not say anything for a long moment, his eyes appraising her. He was not smiling—his lips were pursed thoughtfully—but there seemed to be a deep joy in his features.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Kiethara demanded, forehead creasing in worry.

A grin lit up his face, revealing a fiercer emotion than she had expected. "No reason."

"What does it mean?" she stressed.

Navadar hesitated. "What exactly did she tell you?"

"Camella?" she asked in confusion. "She said exactly what I told you."

"That's it?"

"She said you would explain it to me," she pointed out.

"How about I explain it to you after this mess with Gandador?" he suggested shrewdly.

"But what if I die?" she wined, and Navadar laughed at her contradicting tone and words.

"It gives you more incentive to stay alive," he noted.

"But it could be a month until he comes!"

"I am _not_ staying in this bush for a month."

"Oh, really?"

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"It's so dull," he complained.

"What if I said I could make the bush a little more interesting?" she asked with a tiny smirk.

His eyes ran her up and down, a wicked spark in them. "Is that so?"

"Quite," she teased, sliding out of the bush.

"Hey!" he called after her, sliding out as well. He caught her just as she made it to her knees.

Their lips met with a feeling of quiet elation. His hand took hold of her hair as the other slid down her back. Her own hands took hold of his shoulders and pulled him closer.

Again, Kiethara could not believe the feelings that ignited inside of her. A burning fire of desire raced through her veins, her stomach fluttering fiercely. She used her hands to push him back down into the bush. They broke apart—only because of the necessity to breathe—and she inhaled his musky scent.

Her hands explored his chest, his broad shoulders...His hands explored her body as well.

His hand took her thigh and hitched it onto his hip. Kiethara pressed herself to him with all of her might. All she wanted to do was somehow get closer, to mold herself into him. Not an inch separated them, but she still felt as though they were miles apart.

They broke apart once more, gasping. Before she could recover and find his lips again, the hands in her hair became restraints. She looked up at him, confused, breathing labored.

"You..." he gasped. "Are much too tempting."

Her skin felt like it was on fire. "You haven't seen anything yet."

"That's what I'm afraid of," he huffed. The two of them relaxed their extreme positions, Kiethara laying her head on his chest.

He stroked her hair as their heart beats slowed in unison. She closed her eyes, content with falling asleep to the rhythm of his rising chest...

"After, when this mess is over," he began, but then hesitated. She waited. "I want you to know that I'm not going anywhere."

Kiethara's breathing stopped in sync with her heart as her stomach flipped. These were the words that she had been waiting for...She raised her head slightly so she could look into his eyes.

He looked back and stroked her face. His expression was so tender her stomach panged.

"I love you," he told her. "And because of that, I want to establish a life for us. Together."

"I want that too," she whispered, navy blue eyes wide.

"Good," he smiled. "I promise, you won't be disappointed."

"Navadar, you've never disappointed me," she said fiercely.

"That's not true," he said, shaking his head somberly. "When you came to Redawn...how you left...That wasn't right."

"That wasn't...I mean, it wasn't your fault," she struggled, looking for the right words.

"Of course it was—"

Kiethara put her fingers to his lips, silencing his protests. "Hush, Navadar, you are guilty of nothing."

He kissed her fingers lightly.

"I want you to be prepared, though, and not disappointed," she said. "I can't leave the forest. So if you do establish something with me, you're establishing a life here."

"Oh, I know that," he assured her, his smile lopsided. "That's what I want. I'll still visit Redawn from time to time, for my father, but other than that, everything I need is here."

"I'm not sure you fully comprehend what this entitles," she frowned. "For example, this bush...you'll be seeing a lot more of them."

"I think the bush is growing on me, actually."

There was something else Kiethara wanted to say, but she could not find the right words...How do you bring the idea of children up? But it was Navadar under her, and he alone truly understood...She took a deep breath.

"Also, in the future...when—I mean, if—we have children, we can only have one," she explained. "One, destined to be the guardian forever."

"One?"

"Aaron told me stories of guardians who had more than one child. The other children get jealous, fueds broke out...turmoil is inevitable in that situation."

Navadar nodded slowly. She let her words sink in. She considered briefly, so briefly that the thought had no time to fully form, about setting him free. Telling him to go start a family in Redawn, with someone who had a fortune, a name...But she was selfish. She needed Navadar.

Not to mention the thought of him and another woman made her crystals glow in tune with her anger.

"I understand, Kiethara," he smiled. "I'm prepared."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, even though you manage to take me by surprise."

Kiethara rolled her eyes and pulled herself into a sitting position.

"Where are you going?" he protested.

"Markii," she told him, pulling a leaf from her hair. "I must make my rounds. I'll be back later, though."

"You better."

She waved her hand, and the ground burst to life. "Eat. I'll be back."

With that, she kicked off into the air.

The grass beneath her feet tickled as she landed at Markii's outcropping.

"Markii?

Silently, he appeared out from a much mangled tree. She knew where he had come from—the massive roots created a man-sized gap that was the perfect hiding place.

"Good morning," she told him. He stretched.

"Are you tired of your hole?" she asked, hoping to force a response out of him.

"I've been in worse," he shrugged.

"That's...comforting," she said awkwardly. It sounded like a question.

"Any activity?" he asked.

"No," she sighed.

"He's still out there," Markii said, beating her to the punch.

"Oh, I know," she told him. "I feel it. Even if twenty years pass, I'll still be on red alert."

"As you should be."

Kiethara bit back a fiery retort. She did not like being told what to do. She would have never made a good slave.

"Are you holding out?" she asked.

"I am fine."

"Here," she said, waving her hand again. "Eat. Keep up your strength."

He nodded his thanks.

"I'll be back," she told him before taking off. It was a relief to be in the air. Kiethara was the only one who could tolerate Markii's extreme behavior, but sometimes it was more than even she could handle.

### ***

Kiethara's day continued like this, following the established pattern. She felt bad, for the other three were having a hard time staying put in their places. But surprise was an element they needed, one they could not afford to lose. Not even for the greatest discomfort.

Those three were not her only company. Tinya visited her often, in a completely different world...

Kiethara was climbing a mountain.

At least, that's what she thought it was. The only thing she could truly make out was the sheer, stone cliff to which she was clinging. Everything above her was obscured by fog. Everything below her was crystal clear. But not altogether pleasant.

She reached above her, groping for something to hold on to. She caught a jagged outcropping of rock just in time, almost losing her balance. Somehow, she knew that if she did, the world would shatter around her. The thought did not bother her.

_Are you ready?_ Tinya whispered.

Kiethara considered chiding the voice for breaking her concentration, but the annoyance that should have been there was missing. Then, pausing in her climb, she considered the question.

It seemed...so familiar. She felt that Tinya, or someone, had asked her this before. Was she ready? Prepared? Kiethara pursed her lips at the wave of déjà vu.

_Well?_ she demanded.

Kiethara shrugged and pulled herself up another foot. She did not remember what she was supposed to be ready for.

Tinya's anger at her ignorance and lack of interest was so strong that it shook Kiethara. The potent emotion was like a slap in the face, sparking her own emotion and memory.

Are you ready...Ready for Gandador? Ready for the fight? Ready for...

This.

At the sound of Tinya's voice, Kiethara was thrown off the cliff face. She had been right. As she fell, the images around her shattered like glass, breaking into rugged pieces.

Right before she hit the ground, she heard the voice whisper:

Are you ready for the end?

CHAPTER 66

### BEAUTIFULLY BROKEN

It all happened very quickly, faster than it took her dream world to shatter. And, in essence, now her real world was on the brink of shattering as well.

_Are you ready?_ the voice continued to sound in her head, almost too perfect to be a memory.

She was. She had been. Every detail and possibility had been discussed, every move practiced. She had been utterly prepared for what was to come.

But it was so much different, so much more intense, when it came.

Kiethara's eyes snapped open as the connection in her head blazed. She could sense them before she saw them and she tried not to focus on the fact that the presences had a lot of magic to themselves. More then she had ever felt before in one person, except for Aaron.

Tryke was to her right, arms crossed and expression dark. His numerous piercing made her stomach crawl. Had they seemed that menacing before?

Sinsenta stood to her left. Her crystals glowed in tune to the spark of her anger, his arrogant expression the fuel to her fire. She knew that as long as his face was in her view, she would have no issue using the fire element.

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. Her scars tingled ominously.

"Much," she said, her voice hoarse.

His eyebrows shot up. "Did you miss me?"

"That's like asking a farmer if he misses his rabid dog."

"Why, I'm sure the farmer loved that dog before he became infected," Gandador said, lips twitching. "Like family."

"I suppose it depends on what type of dog it was."

Gandador stepped forward. "The best there is."

"Enough play," Kiethara growled. "I'm done."

"Well, if you would prefer to no longer prolong the inevitable, be my guest."

"Yes, I'd rather have you die sooner."

"The forest will burn, you will burn, and the power will be mine," he whispered softly.

Her eyes narrowed. "It can't happen! Magic cannot be earned by war. Destroying who and what contains it will not set it free."

"We will see," he promised. "Either way, you die."

Kiethara smiled. It seemed like they had come full circle.

"You're awfully quiet," Kiethara noted, turning to look at Sinsenta. "Does your face hurt?"

His scarred face scowled at her, and he took a menacing step forward. "Yours is about to..."

Gandador held up his hand, and Sinsenta fell quiet. Obedient little puppy. She laughed.

"Does he roll over, too?" she asked.

A torrent of flames collided with her shield with a surprising amount of force. She jumped and the sphere flickered—for just a second she felt its intense heat. She gritted her teeth and concentrated on holding it up. It was not as if she did not have enough fear to use.

"Sinsenta," Gandador warned. "Don't let her taunt you."

"Yes, Sinsenta," she mocked. "Don't mind me."

"Permission to kill?" he growled.

"Denied," Gandador chuckled. "That honor will be mine."

As they were talking, Kiethara was calculating, trying to muster up some courage. She needed to attack now, so she could lead them to the traps she had set up. One for each of them.

Something in her, however, kept her feet locked to the ground. She wanted to keep them talking, she wanted more time. She swallowed back bile.

"How's Navadar?" Gandador asked politely. She scowled.

"Perfect," she said. "Perhaps when this is over I'll go visit him."

"Perhaps I will," he threatened.

"Do," she spat. "I'd like to see what he would do to you."

Gandador looked highly amused. "The boy wouldn't dare. He has no magic!"

"You don't need magic to love," she pointed out. "And if I'm gone, he'll have love to avenge."

"Sweet," he said. "But childish."

"The guardians have always been children," Sinsenta spat.

"Oh, no," Gandador disagreed. "Most of them have been, but she—"

Kiethara's shield exploded.

The golden sphere erupted, interrupting Gandador's sentence. The force of it sent Sinsenta and Tryke flying towards the trees, but Gandador flattened himself to the ground, a thick spruce coming up from the ground in front of him.

She cursed silently. How in the world did he have such reflexes?

She wasted no time in taking off to the forest behind her, towards Camella. After a few bounds she entered the air and raced between the limbs, her mind informing her that the three of them were in hot pursuit.

There was one she was more interested in—Tryke, who was to her right. She shifted her course so that he was mere feet behind her, dropping to her feet so he could easily follow her movements. She felt Camella's presence up ahead. Only a couple more yards to the trap.

Kiethara suddenly dived to the side, landing hard on the dirt and the grass that quickly brought her to a halt.

She looked up in time to see Tryke's head slip into the poisoned noose that Camella was dangling from the tree. He gagged as his forward momentum pulled the rope tighter, thrashing against its grip. He let out a gargled scream as the potion began to work its magic.

"No!"

The roar came from one of the two men who were raging down on her. Gandador, with his black cloak billowing, jumped over her, sword drawn. Sinsenta jumped directly on her.

He grabbed one of her arms, but with the other Kiethara hooked him in the face. She would never be held on the ground by him again.

It was not enough, though, for she only managed to turn onto her side. Spitting blood into her face, he made a grab for her other hand. She focused her energy and flames appeared at the exact same second as Sinsenta's did.

They both screamed and pulled away from each other—Sinsenta to the side and Kiethara to the air. She was there for only a moment when something heavy smacked her into her and sent her back into the nearest tree.

It was Camella. With a gasp, Camella rolled off of her and the two girls rolled to their feet. Ears ringing, heart pounding, Kiethara tried to gather herself and take in her surroundings.

Gandador was working over Tryke. The noose had been torn and thrown to the ground, but Tryke was still turning blue. Gandador was hunched over him, and as soon as Kiethara heard the clink of a glass bottle she knew what he was doing.

"Get Sinsenta!" Kiethara barked at her friend, blasting towards the other two. At full speed, she collided with Gandador.

He grunted, and together they tumbled into the high grass. She realized quickly that it was not the best position she could have put herself into, but all the while she prayed she had been quick enough. Please, let Tryke be dying...

When their teeth-chattering motion stopped, she looked up just in time to have her hopes smashed.

Sinsenta must have told Gandador what had happened to him and Gandador must have been familiar with the potion from her mother. Perhaps another reason why it had taken him so long to return: he had cooked up remedies to her poisons. Did that mean that her other potion was useless? Would the violet poison soaked into Navadar's arrow tips be enough, or would Gandador's own concoctions stop the liquid venom in its tracks?

Vines suddenly grabbed her and Kiethara realized too late that she had had her attention diverted for too long. Gandador was almost to his feet, his vines almost to her neck. She was furious with herself.

Once again, however, a miracle—a mystery—occurred.

Her whole body burst into hot, burning flames. She felt their powerful waves of heat and fell into what seemed to be a dulled sensation of what the true pain should have felt like. Aaron had told her that her crystals only protected her hands, which was why, until this point, they had only come from there.

Now, they were all over her.

Needless to say, the vines disintegrated. Shock rolled through her being, but she refused to be distracted by it. Instead, she threw herself onto a gaping Gandador.

He roared in real agony as she slammed him to the ground. Her hands sought his throat...

A wave of ice cold water suddenly threw her to the side, drowning her with its volume and velocity. The flames went out as she spluttered and coughed and, before she could get the water out of her eyes, someone landed a solid blow to her gut.

Her shield flew up and she blinked, dazed. It took her a fast moment to see that Tryke had fully recovered, and that that had been his wall of water. Behind him, a large area of the forest was dead and dry.

It was a stunning ability to achieve. Kiethara had lost a parent, but she could not even accomplish that. For one wild second, she wondered what could have possibly happened to him to make him so great at using water. What sorrow was necessary to do _that?_

Gandador was putting out the small flames that smoldered on his cloak. Her navy blue eyes flickered to Sinsenta.

Kiethara gasped. Camella was on his back, legs wrapped around his arms while her hands covered his eyes. She gritted her teeth, releasing an arm to reach down to her dagger.

Kiethara's shield disappeared as she dove towards them. Tryke made a move, but her tree shot up from the ground so fast that there was no way he could have avoided the missile. No one could use the earth element as she could.

Camella was thrown from Sinsenta, her one arm not strong enough to keep her hold. Kiethara unsheathed her own sword just in time to meet those of Sinsenta.

He crossed his daggers, catching her blade in their crevice. He pushed back, sending her stumbling. She regained her balance just in time to sink into a crouch and dodged another swipe of the dagger.

Kiethara lunged, swiped, rolled, and then flew. This maneuver had taken her weeks to master, but here she had it perfected. The butt of her sword cracked on Sinsenta's skull in a sickening way.

She felt him give way underneath her and felt a swooping sense of relief. She turned and pulled Camella to her feet.

"Listen," she told her wide-eyed friend. They only had seconds—the others were recovering. "Run to Markii as fast as you can! Go!"

Camella was very intuitive—her observant eyes saw where Kiethara's train of thought was headed. She took off without a pause or a question.

Kiethara took off to, in another direction.

In her head, she felt her spur-of-the-moment decision had the result she had hoped for. Gandador was after her, Tryke was after Camella, and Sinsenta was still on the ground, unconscious.

She knew it would be faster to fly, but Navadar needed advanced warning. She deliberately cracked twigs with her feet and beat branches as she sprinted by, all the while praying that Gandador would not decide to fly himself. He never wasted magic like that.

She sensed Navadar up ahead. She steeled herself to turn invisible and swing up into the branches, allowing him a clear shot.

She just needed to get closer...closer...now.

Her hands disappeared before her eyes as she reached up to grab a branch. Her fingers grazed it...

Something—someone—grabbed her dress from behind her and pulled her to the ground.

She yelped, turning visible. Gandador jumped over her and kept running.

What...?

Her stomach dropped; he must have figured what lay ahead. After Camella's presence, it was the obvious conclusion.

She leapt to her feet just in time to have a misfired arrow shoot through her wild, waist long hair. She gasped, flattening herself to the ground and rolling to the side. Kiethara eagerly pressed her back to the solid bark, welcoming the solid barrier.

And arrow struck the tree to her left. Holding her breath, she reached out quickly and yanked it out. The wooden tip was dampened still and she made sure to keep it away from her flesh as she scaled the tree and jumped into the air.

In mere seconds, she felt in her connection that she was over Gandador. Fear spiked her veins as she saw how close he was to Navadar. The wind howled fiercely.

She ducked down into the canopy. He heard her racket and his gaze flickered up just in time to see her spear-throw the arrow at him.

Kiethara could not believe her luck; she was also unable to decide if she should consider it good luck or bad. She nicked his right palm, causing him to curse violently.

Just then, Navadar jumped out of the bushes. His bow was already drawn and his quiver still held a decent amount of arrows. He closed one eye to aim.

Navadar's bow burst into flames. Kiethara and Navadar let out a cry at the same time. He dropped his weapon with a yelp as Kiethara sent her own pillar of fire directly at her father in fury.

He jumped out of the way, cradling his injured hand, pulling from his pocket another potion bottle. She gasped in anger. She would not let this happen again.

Flames erupted inside the long, slender glass vial.

The snuffed out quickly as they consumed all of the oxygen, but they left no potion in their wake. Gandador would not have any remedy for this poison!

"You little...!" he hissed. "Learn some new tricks, I see? Aaron teach you those, eh?"

Her teeth snapped together, but otherwise she kept her emotions hidden. She could not let Gandador see the pain, could not let him know that his greatest enemy was forever gone. She could not let him see her own surprise at her new skill. He must think she had been trained with these tactics already.

Where she was getting these inexplicable talents, she knew not. What she did know was that in times of strong emotion, in times of instinctive need, her powers assisted her with what was needed. She was a guardian, after all.

The thought made her smug and she made sure to show _that_ emotion on her face.

"This will be the last time you choose to fight a guardian," she told him, nodding towards his hand. It was starting to swell and turn a vivid pink.

"I'll kill you before the venom reaches my elbow!" he screamed, unsheathing his sword. Kiethara realized with a jolt she still held hers in her hand. Navadar suddenly jumped to her side, now holding the machete Camella had brought with her.

Gandador sneered at Navadar's display, twitching his fingers. He stepped forward as to swipe at Kiethara, but in mid-step he spun on his heel and chucked the blade at Navadar.

"No!"

The cry came from her mouth, and her fingers, as though sought by magnetic force, reached for him. She watched in utter relief as a golden sphere appeared around his precious self, the blade bouncing off as though it had hit a wall.

However, that left her well open for an attack from the man who had thrown the sword.

There was a sudden pressure on her arm. She tore her eyes away from Navadar to see Gandador's hand closing around her flesh.

Pain.

She opened her mouth to scream, but she could not hear anything over the ringing in her ears. She felt her limbs contorting, but she could not control their movement. Her vision flickered between a dark black and a vivid white.

Only one thought crossed her mind: this should not be happening. Aaron had told her that it cost him much magic to use this move.

She could not focus as another wave of torture broke over her. This could not go on for much longer, or she would die. But what if she did? Sickening fear jolted her along with the pain.

She was suddenly smacked with what felt like a solid, moving wall. It hurt, but on the other hand, the pain ceased. It was actually a relief.

She blinked and looked around. Navadar was frozen, shocked, and the shield around him had disappeared. Gandador lay on the ground a foot to her right.

Ah...Her shield must have expanded out...from around Navadar. At least he wasn't hurt.

Kiethara jumped to her feet.

Gandador suddenly spun on the ground, kicking her legs out from under her. She landed flat on her back, letting out a strange little huff as the wind was stolen from her.

She raised her head just enough to see something quite shocking. Navadar had shed the machete for Gandador's own sword and he held it high as he charged at him.

Gandador sprang to his feet and a wall of flames erupted between them. Navadar jumped back in alarm as Gandador smirked.

He then turned his attention to Kiethara, who lay by his feet. Realizing she was in trouble, she kicked her leg up. He snatched it before she could strike the fork of his legs, twisting her ankle painfully. She flipped over, her other leg striking his poisoned hand.

He let out a hiss and dropped her foot. She quickly scrambled away, pulling herself up with the help of a tree.

She was then slammed into it, bark scratching angrily at her cheek. She let out a muffled cry, thrashing. Gandador grabbed her wrists and shoved her again, reinforcing his position.

From her position, she could see Navadar behind the crackling flames, which were devouring the forest like an enraged beast. Their creator was no better, however, as he breathed these menacing words into her ear:

"Should I burn him alive, child?"

Flames appeared on Navadar's other side, surrounding him. There was hardly a foot between him and the flames. She saw him gulping for air, sweat already pouring from his forehead and neck.

"Or I could let him watch you die," he suggested. "Which would you prefer?"

"The question is," she gasped. "Which world would you rather destroy? Mine or his?"

"Why, both," he responded matter-of-factly.

"No!" Navadar wickedly screamed, and Kiethara's heart burst with panic. She strained her eyes, but it did not look like the fire had harmed him. Then she saw that his wide eyes were staring at her. The danger was not his danger. It was hers.

Gandador shifted and, in a moment of perfect clarity, she realized that he was going to kill her.

"Wait!" she cried. "Do you really want to die?"

There was a beat of stillness. Not silence, for the fire crackled obnoxiously, but she felt the movement behind her freeze. Her heart gave a painful beat, as though it knew that it would be its last.

"Now why would I want that?" he asked. A shift in his weight made her cringe into the tree.

"I didn't think you would," she gasped. "But you will if you keep this up. It's been the same way since you first returned here, hasn't it?"

More stillness. She had struck a cord.

Which made her think...

Had she really survived this entire time on mere luck and skill? Or had thee been something else to it? It was not difficult to see that Gandador had a few good opportunities to kill her already, but perhaps something else had held the fatal blow at bay. Was it fear? Reluctance?

"Tell me, which is it?" she asked aloud. "Was it fear of Aaron that had kept you all that time? Fear of him destroying you? Or was it simple reluctance to risk the end of this world for the sake of one you know not?"

The hands on her tightened.

"That's it, isn't it?" she asked, laughing in disbelief.

"I may hate him," Gandador growled. "But I am no fool. Aaron Pervel was a powerful man, and remains to be a powerful spirit. Not even you could ever amass the amount of power he has."

So Earthaphoria did not tell him everything, did not tell him the workings of a guardian's death. Did she know herself? She had not known Aaron, so it would have had to have been a parent to explain...

But it explained Gandador's fear. He still thought Aaron had the same amount of magic he had had all those years ago.

_Use it_ , a voice sounded in her head suddenly. _Wield your weapons._

Kiethara's eyes widened. It was Tinya.

_Stay focused_ , she warned.

But Kiethara was awake! She had never heard the voice while she was conscious.

It takes less power to reach you when your unconscious, but you need me.

_You'll fade,_ Kiethara thought in despair.

_Now you worry_ , she grumbled. _About the wrong things, too._

"Aaron...Aaron was a great guardian," she stuttered, trying to surpress her shock at Tinya's appearance and keep the thread of the conversation going. Her mind was spinning.

This was why she did not realize her mistake until her words were too far gone to take back.

"Was?" he asked.

_Oh, no,_ the voice whispered.

She was suddenly whipped around, her back slamming into the bark, her cheek throbbing as it was released. She stared into deep pits that had been made darker by the menacing light of victory that now played in his pupils.

He yanked her chin up.

"Child, do you mean to tell me he's _gone?_ " he hissed in fierce exultation.

Her eyes pricked, but she still tried to give a convincing answer.

"No."

"Liar," he said. "Poor girl, suffering the loss of—"

"Father," she interjected fiercely. "Loss of my father."

Gandador's eyes narrowed.

The silence was broken by a sudden battle grunt, and then Navadar collided with Gandador and sent the two men reeling.

Kiethara ducked out of the way as they came her towards her. She stepped behind Gandador and jumped on his back. Securing her grip, she ignited her entire body on fire again.

He roared and ran backwards. Her back cracked against a tree, snuffing the fire out, but leaving his cloak smoldering.

She reached down and grabbed Gandador's poisoned hand, which was now multiple colors and spreading to his wrist. She twisted it, and he let out a painful howl.

"Navadar, run! My clearing!" Kiethara panted, working to keep her grip.

Unlike Camella, Navadar did not do exactly what she said. Infuriatingly, he paused to ask her:

"Bur what—"

"GO!" she screamed harshly. Gandador's other hand came around and smacked her on the other side of her head.

Finally, Navadar took off through the trees. Gandador threw Kiethara off and tore after Navadar, a look of pure, undiluted evil decorating his features.

She blasted after him. For the shortest moment, she wondered why Gandador did not fly. He must be saving his power for another dose of pain...

When she was a foot away from him, she tumbled in the air and planted two bare, muddy feet on his shoulder blades. She threw her weight into it and he sank forward. As his body fell horizontally, she used him as a spring board, landing neatly on her feet right besides Navadar.

"Let's go," she huffed, a bit more kindly. She grabbed his hand and together they raced towards her clearing.

Camella, Markii, Tryke, and Sinsenta were already there.

And it was not going well.

Tryke and Markii were consumed in a fierce sword battle. Markii's skill and precociousness were uncanny, almost surreal; however, Tryke was using his magic. Despite what Markii claimed, the power gave him an advantage that left Markii bruised, beaten, and singed.

Camella was even worse. Her lip was bleeding profusely and her clothes were ripped and tattered. Criss-cross scratched litteres her skin, as well as some nasty burns. Her hair was wild, teeth clenched, and Kiethara sensed she had already expelled much of her magic. Sinsenta leered at Camella as they both swung daggers at each other. His, though, were on fire.

Kiethara let go of Navadar's hand and held her palms up. Her crystals glowed brightly, anger flared from the sight of her injured friends, and then two columns of fire burst at her enemies in a wave of heat.

The two men roared as they soared through the air. Markii and Camella's head snapped up in unison to gaze at Kiethara with profound relief, although it was not as obvious on Markii's features.

Kiethara grabbed Navadar and yanked him to the middle of the clearing, the other two quick to converge on them. As soon as they were together, Kiethara held her hand high and her shield appeared.

Camella braced her hands on her knees, panting. Markii flexed his fingers, cracking his knuckles.

"Is everyone okay?" Kiethara asked.

"Yes," Camella gasped.

"How unfortunate..."

Gandador had made it to the clearing. Kiethara spun on her heel to evaluate the situation. Sinsenta and Tryke were rising to their feet. They were surrounded.

Kiethara blinked, her eyes stinging as she tried to focus on the shapes around her. She ran a hand over her forehead and it came back stained crimson. When did that happen?

"Are _you_ okay?" Camella asked. Kiethara smiled in response.

She clutched her sword and checked her vine belt. She still had her healing potion.

"Is anyone seriously injured?" she asked.

"You," Navadar said, gently stroking her forehead.

"Anyone else?" she sighed in exasperation.

They all shook their heads. Navadar huffed indignantly.

"So Aaron is gone!" Gandador cried in elation. Kiethara flinched violently.

"Gone!" he cried again. He gestured to a nearby tree, which promptly burst into flames. Kiethara was sickened—she had never seen him so happy.

"Is he really?" Sinsenta asked.

"Oh, yes," Gandador answered. "You can see it in the child's eyes. _I_ can't even create a pain so deep in her."

"Pain like this can only come from love," she said evenly.

"That's why I was planning on killing Navadar," he pointed out.

Her teeth snapped together, her hands bursting into flames. Camella jumped.

"The tree is still burning..." Markii mumbled.

Kiethara started. Markii was right. She remembered the flames that had surrounded Navadar, and suddenly, her connection blazed. But not with a presence; it was a subtle warning, almost, of the other flames present in the forest. Closing her eyes and praying it would work, she used Gandador's words as power to pull water from the forest, using only her connection to see the two areas of flames. Feeling rather than witnessing, she doused the conflagrations quickly.

"That boy..." Tryke mused suddenly. Kiethara blinked in surprise. She was fairly certain it was the first time he had spoken.

"Yes, he's quite annoying. The lot of them are."

"No, no...His clothing, his accent...it's very familiar."

Besides her, Markii tensed.

"I believe I pillaged his tribe not a week ago!"

Camella gasped next to her, Navadar inhaled sharply, and Kiethara's mouth fell open in horror. Markii, however, remained unnaturally stiff.

In front of her, a horrid smirk was spreading across Gandador's face.

"Excellent. Now you can finish the thing properly."

"If he's anything like the others, it should be fairly easy."

_Wham_.

Kiethara's teeth vibrated in tune to her shield—Markii had struck his sword against the inside of it. She turned to look at him, and what she saw was enough to make the golden sphere disappear.

It could not be, yet it was. Markii's features were alight with a blazing emotion that changed his entire appearance. A moment before, he had only been intense. His gray eyes had been piercing, his eyebrows straight, and his muscles tense. A countenance that had never varied. A steel that remained as solid as it was strong.

Now, the steel had melted.

Melted by a burning, white-hot rage that lit his face. The heat seeped his eyebrows, mashing them together. It seeped to his mouth, pulling his lips into a gnarled grimace, as though the muscle were not familiar with being used.

This new Markii was magnificent as he was utterly terrifying. Before, he had simply been unadulterated power. Now his inhumane skill was made, if possible, fiercer with the new display of emotion, the new motivation that took complete control. As Kiethara beheld the miracle before her, she doubted that even Aaron had experienced anything equivalent to the chaos that was bursting from him.

As her shield disappeared, he flung himself at Tryke with a war cry. Markii had never made a boisterous sound before this.

"No, Mar—"

Her own cry was cut off by a great force slamming her from behind. She fell face first onto the dirt.

"Get off her!" Navadar cried, and the pressure on her was released. She gasped as the air rushed back into her lungs, pulling her nose and mouth from the ground.

Her head had barely risen an inch when a boot hit her clear across the skull. Stars flashed behind her eyelids, and it was pure chaos as she tried to roll away, anywhere, just to get some bearings. As soon as she had a new direction, something would smack her in the opposite direction.

There were many ways she could use her power, but fear of hitting more friend than foe kept them at bay. Her sword had been knocked from her hand and the ringing in her head made it impossible for her to focus on the presences in her connection...

And then something grabbed her arm and was dragging her across the grass.

"Come on..."Camella panted, pulling her to her feet. They locked eyes for a moment, both pairs silently conveying the same message: _good luck._

Camella took off to help Navadar, who was viscously pushing Sinsenta. Kiethara did not move. She could feel her father coming at her again, and she waited...

She ducked. His thick blade whistled a foot above her head and she spun, thrusting her foot at Gandador's shins. He stumbled, throwing out his sword arm to catch his balance. Kiethara saw her opportunity. She lunged and grabbed his wrists, working furiously to knock the sword from his grasp. His right arm came around, though, and captured her in a headlock, rattling her so hard that her teeth knocked together and she gave up her fight for his sword.

She was choking, that was for sure. She desperately tried to set herself on fire again, but as her vision blurred, she found it harder and harder to concentrate.

Lack of air was not that much different from a lack of magic. His strong arm almost had the same effect that cursed jewel had on her; it drained her heavily. But she had not experienced that for no reason, and because of it, she was well attuned at finding hidden reserves of strength.

She found no energy to find an emotion to fuel a power. She needed to do something that she was so well practiced with, so familiar with, that she did not need an emotion to use it...something that she could do—had done—in her sleep...

Her crystals glowed brightly as innumerable white roses blossomed up from the ground. Almost too beautiful for the grotesque task they were performing, they began to consume the two of them. Kiethara felt their thorns pricking her exposed skin. Gandador's arm loosed in surprise...

_Bam!_ She struck his elbow and he grunted in pain. She slipped from his paws and from the monster bush of roses, which were still blooming at an alarming rate.

"Get these accursed things off of me!" he yelled, though it was quite muffled, for the roses had stretched above his head.

Breathing heavily, she turned to Markii's fight. His back was to her, and for that she was almost grateful. His new demeanor was unnerving—as unnerving as his steel hard countenance had been when she had first met him.

She swept up her sword and made towards the two of them.

"Argh!"

That had been her only warning, but it still had not been enough. She turned to see that Gandador had sunk to drastic measures to get free. He had set himself—and the bush of roses—on fire. They disintegrated quickly, but it left him aflame in the process.

She changed course back to the bloody and burnt mastermind, but he disappeared. Her heart froze, and then her mother's legend rang in her head...too slowly, she spun on her heel.

He was already behind her. His arm came down in a swift motion, striking her clear across the face. She staggered back and, before she could recover, he planted his foot in her chest with all the force he could muster.

The first thing she registered, as she flew several feet in the air, was a collection of gasps that echoed throughout her clearing. It sounded odd.

Then, as she hit the ground and skidded to a stop, she registered the ripples of agony. She drew in a rattling breath. The pain coming from her ribs stabbed at her heart.

Her heart.

At that moment she became painfully aware of it. It was so loud, drowning out every other sound in the forest. Suddenly, it seemed time slowed remarkably, as if it had paced itself to the crawling beats of her heart.

Ba-Dump.

In slow motion it seemed, she raised her head, fire in her chest. The first thing she saw through the waving grass, for a sudden wind had picked up, was Gandador. He stood ten feet from her, smirking down at her with cold, amused eyes.

Ba-Dump.

She turned her head to the right. Navadar was looking over his shoulder, bloody machete half-way raised and his mouth opened in a silent exclamation. Silent, just as Sinsenta's obvious sneering laugh. He was facing her like Gandador. Both men were very bloody.

There was one missing from that group.

Kiethara's stomach dropped astonishingly fast, considering the disorienting procession of things.

Camella was lying on the ground, eagle-spread and bleeding from her temple. Kiethara's breath left in a very slow, shallow whoosh. She felt no relief as she watched Camella's chest rise slowly, for she had never seen her friend so still. It was eerie, it was unnatural, and it sparked a fire inside her.

It was not pain, although that was so ever present. It was a stabbing pang that she could tentatively call murder. Murder directed at Sinsenta's blue and brown eyes, which gazed at her with unsuppressed glee as she raised her panic-stricken face from Camella's stricken form.

The fight was going badly for them, and by the look of Sinsenta's gloating confidence, it would be over soon.

Ba-Dump.

Now riddled with more things than pain, she rolled her head in the other direction, towards Markii.

He was still standing. He held his sword out in front of him, grasped firmly with two hands. Shockingly there was a brilliant, breath-taking smile on his face. His teeth were a dazzling white, a beautiful contrast to his dark hair and eyes. The smile was morphing as she watched him—into one of triumph.

Triumph, because his blade was running itself forward, dragging through the sun's rays, and impaling itself in Tryke's chest. Tryke's back was to her, but she watched his head roll back in a silent scream. As slow as a falling leaf, Tryke's sword fell into the grass and the water he had been using as an additional weapon splashed to the forest floor.

Tryke made his way down to the ground, too. Dead.

Markii threw back his head and laughed. It was the only sound that could reach her past the loud pounding of her heart. It was voluminous and passionate. He had fulfilled his duty. He had destroyed an adversary. He had protected his tribe.

Ba-Dump.

Instinct called her eyes to flicker back to Gandador. He, too, had been watching Markii. They locked eyes for a moment, staring at one another with, what felt like to her, was understanding. Their eyes only remained locked for a fraction of a second, before they both turned back to Navadar and Sinsenta.

Ba-Dump.

Sinsenta seemed to have placed a well aimed strike at Navadar, who was clutching his crimson shoulder. Then, the butt of the stained dagger rose and fell. Navadar collapsed, though not yet unconscious, unable to defend himself from the flames above. These flames were only dully burning on the daggers, for the anger needed to fuel them was overshadowed by the immense triumph that Sinsenta was now feeling. Like Markii, he seemed to have realized that he had won.

Ba-Dump.

Pain—horrible rushing, suffocating, stabbing, inflaming, freezing _agony_ —exploded inside her chest. It was worse than before; not only did her ribs burn more fiercely than they had seconds after the blow, but now her heart was laden with the image before her.

She realized she was screaming with her hands clawing at the dirt in front of her. She could not hear her scream, she could not get up fast enough, but she could warn someone to help. Someone who had already defeated his foe.

Her eyes met Gandador's once more.

Ba-Dump.

They both glanced at Markii, at his laughing face. He was laughing at Tryke's body, which was bleeding onto the freshly bent grass. Markii was not being observant. He did not see that Navadar needed help. He was not seeing enough.

Gandador smirked.

Ba-Dump.

A flick of the wrist and his blade was soaring through the air. As though it were some magnificent eagle, it ripped through the air towards its target, its prey. It went slow enough that Kiethara could follow it with her eyes.

Ba-Dump.

It impaled itself right into Markii's chest. His laugh was cut off with a strangled gurgle, blood spurting from his mouth. The red seemed so bright against Markii's dull grays, greens, and blacks. His eyes were no longer narrowed in what had been his usual intensity, but they were wide with shock. His muscles, for the first time, relaxed.

In death, he became weak. In emotion, he had made himself vulnerable. Markii had kept his feelings, his opinions, everything to himself. Hidden from foe and friend, to protect himself. To guard himself in the most efficient way and, to an extent, his tribe. He had been right to, for their freedom had cost him his life. One glorious moment of seeing a true Markii, and then he was on his knees.

BA-DUMP!

She exploded. She burst.

Sound, speed, smell...It came back to her as though a wall between she and it had been shattered. Everything that had transpired before had taken place in about a minute, but that one moment had been filled with so much it had been cut out of the normal pace of things.

For some reason, her pain seemed to double. She realized now that the reason she could not have moved was due to simple shock from the breaking of ribs. Nonetheless, she rose to her feet now with no hesitation. An ear-splitting stentorian scream bubbled to her lips and she let it out with piercing volume. She roared in her anguish and anger. The sight of her friends littered around her, dead and dying, made her see red. Her crystals were blinding as she felt emotion course through her veins at a level she had never experienced before. There was a bone-deep sorrow she felt in Markii's death. There was an unhindered fear pounding to the rhythm of her heart, her subconscious telling her she would die. Rage banged in her ears and sent a blood-lust through her, towards the man before her. Towards Sinsenta, who had paused in his attack to look up at her. There was even joy inside her—joy when she saw his eyes widen in panic at the sight of her.

With all of this emotion came a massive amount of power. She could not stop herself from drinking it in from the forest around her. Her crystals were two suns on her wrists and the eyes in her sockets glowed just as bright. She was alien and uncontrollable. The magic took control of her, swelling inside her, so much that she felt her feet slowly lift off the ground as she rose upwards.

It was all just too much. Her arms spread outwards and her chest arched forward. She threw back her head and burst.

In an instant, she had been devastatingly torn apart.

Beautifully broken.

It thrummed out in waves. It was pure magic, not transformed into anything or manipulated by anyone. Her emotion had turned her into an outlet for the wild power, and it did not hesitate to pour forth in magnificent volume.

Kiethara could not stop it. It was endless, for the magic was endless. Only Aaron's constricting arms had ever reined this in. But Aaron was not here; she had disobeyed him. She had let herself get overwhelmed.

She was lost to a magical bust.

Hours, minutes, days, seconds, moments...Time meant nothing. All she knew was that it felt so good to let it run free from her. Such a relief, like letting out a breath she had been holding in for some time. A breath, however, that would never run dry.

Finally, though, a small part of her sanity was able to grab a hold of her. A small part of her humanity. It was talking to her, too.

_Calm down!_ it whispered.

She could not. She could not find any control. She could not do anything. All she saw was white.

_Listen to me,_ it snapped. _Your emotions need to be reigned in. Navadar is still alive. Go save him._

Navadar...that rang a bell. Her vision flickered, the light dimming, yet the magic fought against any form of restraint.

_You control it,_ the voice reminded her.

That was right. She was a guardian.

_Go on now,_ it said. _Reign it in._

She did not know how.

_Find a reason_.

Reason. Everything happened for a reason.

It relented, and she grabbed hold of her sanity. She found her sight, found her control over the wicked power. She breathed in deep gasping breaths as her crystals simmered down. She fell with a thump to the forest floor.

She lay there for a moment, gasping, more pain coursing through her than she had ever experienced before.

_Well done,_ the faintest voice in her head murmured. _You are...guardian..._

The voice abruptly cut off as a presence in her head vanished. She had not realized it was there until it was gone. It felt wrong, as though she were missing some essential part of herself. It felt hollow, sad.

Taking in air through her gritted teeth, she dragged herself to her feet. Her watery eyes took in Camella's still form, lying right next to Sinsenta. Surprisingly, Kiethara felt no shock in seeing him dead. Camella's chest rose shallowly.

Navadar was alive, too. He was fighting to get to his feet, for he seemed to be in as much pain as she was. His eyes made contact with hers.

She looked away, towards Gandador. He was still alive, and he, too, was making his way to his feet.

No. Not again.

Dragging herself forward by only sheer will, she bent to pick up her sword. She had no magic left in her. No strength but to do this.

She limped towards him. He grunted in pain, shaking. His sword was still in Markii, out of his reach. She smirked down at the pale, pitiful creature that was all that remained of Gandador.

He looked up at her as though he wanted to say something. All that he managed to do, though, was pull his features into a crippled grimace. He knew, just as she did, that she had won.

So this was what victory felt like, she thought dully. This was what it truly meant to be a guardian.

With that, Kiethara raised her sword back slightly. Her hands shook.

And then she plunged it into his heart.

He grunted, his hands flying to grab her wrists. He squeezed her bracelets, as though he wanted to yank the sword out of him. But before he could, the menacing eyes turned colder than they had ever been before. She had finally defeated Gandador. She had finally avenged her mother.

Kiethara pulled her sword from him and stepped back. She threw her head back in triumph, smiling up at the sun, at Aaron, before she collapsed.

For she had been beautifully broken.

CHAPTER 67

### REASON

Kiethara breathed in deeply and looked up at the sky.

She was standing in the middle of her clearing. One hand was placed upon the pommel of her sword, the other on her vine belt, which was empty. Her waist long brown hair fluttered in a warm breeze; a breeze, for once, that was natural, and not caused by fear. No, far from fear, there was a rich sense of peace dancing in the air. Her navy blue eyes looked up at the cloudless sky, unclouded themselves.

It was as though the other day had just been a dream. It was as though Gandador had not even returned to the forest all those months ago. She did not even have a mark on her skin to prove his existence. Not even a scar.

All of this serenity—her bodiless clearing, unscathed skin—was due to Navadar. She would have felt that the last year or so had not occurred at all if it were not for his presence. If she had not met him, all that time ago, she would not be standing here with nothing to do but enjoy the forest around her. If it were not for him saving her life for the umpteenth time, there would be no forest to enjoy.

After she had killed Gandador, she had collapsed. She would have continued onto oblivion, slowly but surely, if Navadar had not been there, if he had not had the strength and wits about him to grab her last remaining potion. He had poured it all over her in his desperation to revive her, pouring it in her wounds, in her mouth, and on her perfectly fine skin as well. The result of that potion on scar tissue, evidently, was skin as smooth and as flawless as a small child's. She had not known this until now, until the end, but somehow that seemed to fit. She could get rid of everything at once. And she had.

Camella, thank goodness, was all right as well. She had only been knocked out and not seriously wounded. She was sleeping on the banks on the guardian's lake, next to Navadar. Kiethara had not had the heart to wake them.

She herself had woken up inside the lake. She supposed—her memory was fuzzy on the finer points—that Navadar had put her in after using the potion. Too right he had, for she had had no magic left. It really made her think...back to when the forest had caught on fire. That day had certainly caused a lot of damage, but that might not have been the only thing it caused. Aaron had trusted Navadar after that. She had learned then how to put out a fire, a skill she had used more than once in the final battle. And because of it, Navadar had known to put her in the lake.

Her own adage resounded in her ears. Did it apply to everything, though? Why had Markii died?

She already knew that answer. Seeing that, coupled with seeing Navadar about to receive his own death blow, had been just enough to send her over the edge. The magical burst had been everything Aaron had warned her about and more. It had been a surge of power she had needed, though, to end things.

And that was why Tinya had been there, all this time. It might be a stretch, but perhaps that was why the poor girl had died. To help another guardian, to bring her back to herself before she could destroy more than just her enemies. In the end, it had been Tinya who protected the forest. She had been given the opportunity that she had been denied all those years ago.

But why had the blast only killed Sinsenta, and not Gandador? Why did she have to have the feeling of murder on her hands? Righteous murder, one might call it, but murder all the same. She would never forget the feeling of her sword plunging into him...

Yet she felt like she had accomplished her duty to Aaron. It felt as though she had avenged him. Aaron had said, a long time ago, that he would have never asked her to commit such a crime; however, she was glad he had. It was her gift to him. So maybe that was why.

_Thud, thud, thud._ She smiled as she felt Navadar approach her from behind. His arm snaked around her waist as his chin rested on her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" he whispered in her ear.

"Perfect," she said, not bothering to look away from the sky. "Everything is perfect."

Everything was perfect, because, well—

Everything happened for a reason.
Acknowledgements

It quickly became obvious to me, as I began writing Kiethara's story, that her legend was one that I had craved since I was a little girl. As I grew, the idea of her grew with me. Kiethara is strong. She is confident. She is dedicated. She is trustworthy. She has a concrete sense of right and wrong. She is passionate. These characteristics are inspired by her position of power; in my world, however, they were inspired by people. I would like to take this time to thank a few of them.

My good friend and daily inspiration, Kira Chang, is stong. She never fails to step in when I finally admit that I need help (the cover of this book would not be nearly as magical without her) and always sticks fast to the course that she lays out for herself. She has given me the confidence I need to pursue my dreams, a task that is made especially easier knowing that she is in my corner.

Robyn Mooney, my cross country and life coach, is dedicated. She inspired me to be dedicated to my sport, to my health, and to the things that made me happy. No matter what the weather holds—take that both metaphorically and figuratively—she is the reason I go the extra mile. I thank her for that, as well as the edits she provided me for this second book.

My good friend Jody Masch is trustworthy. Many people promise to read a book, but she went above and beyond what I asked from her and helped Kiethara's story grow. Kiethara had to protect a great deal with no immediate reward in sight; I have never seen anyone graciously help other as well as Jody does.

While I'm being so open, I have to acknowledge the fact that this book may not have been without my brother, Chris. Anytime I became frustrated or suffered from a severe case of writer's block, he was the one I would go to and scream ideas at for a good hour or two until something stuck. There were not many people I trusted to talk to while I was developing this story, but Chris has always had a true sense of right and wrong, and I knew he would never betray my ideas to someone else.

Emily, my fated twin, taught me to be passionate. There is no act, big or small, that she does without passion. WhenI felt defeated, or angry, she is always there to remind me that no dream should ever be dismissed in the face of adversity.

Anyone who has reviewed this series online, anyone who has read it, anyone who loves Kiethara as much as I do...thank you for giving my story a chance.

Of course, the glory of it all is to God.
About the Author

Kelly Napoli is still working towards her Evironmental Engineering degree at the University of Florida, with a minor in English in sight. Between the demands of a student, an author, and an active member of her sorority, she finds time to dream up new book ideas while training for her fourth half-marathon and first marathon. She does not plan to quit writing any time soon—whether Kiethara's legend continues or not will be up to the readers.

