Chapter 10 Mystic Encounter

That night I have a dream of a dark-skinned creature walking out of the woods. The creature is at least three times the size of a human, and has wings, hanging on both sides of his body. The wings are huge, so they must be heavy, but they do not look it, maybe because they are transparent, as if made of light-purple glass.

It comes closer and I discern a more or less human-looking face with the eyes, studying me intently. His eyes constantly change color across the whole spectrum from red to blue and back. It stretches something that looks like a hand and touches me. I scream with fear and wake up.

Morning is cloudy and the ride home is uneventful. If Dara’s knights went looking for Aret that night, they missed him, as well as me. I am no longer worried – by now Aret and Iris were warned enough to instill a sense of urgency to put as much distance as possible between them and the pursuit.

I enter Deikeren through the Northern gates, and Sarji snorts angrily. His thought form is fear. He was here before, and something bad happened to him or, possibly, a master he loved. This horse is full or mysteries.

The streets are full of people. I dismount not to stick out of the crowd, and try to make my way home when an old woman stumbles, and falls to the ground.

I would’ve never noticed her, if she did not fall like this. Most of the folks continue to walk by. The day is getting hotter, and no one cares for anyone, but themselves on this dusty, narrow street. I should do the same, but instead I walk up and help the woman get up. She is thin, even emaciated, dressed in rags. I steady her up by holding her by her arm. The arm feels like a twig under the grayish, worn out sleeve.

The woman’s long, wavy hair is bloody, because she hit her head on the cobblestones when she fell. She touches a gash on her forehead with her free hand and moans almost inaudibly.

“Henessada! There you are!” Two men approach us quickly, pushing through the multicolored crowd.

Sarji whines loudly at the sight of these guys. Who knows what this horse is thinking! Sometimes I feel he is involved in this process more than some people!

However today I agree with my four-legged friend – there is something to look at! These men appear foreign, and are dressed in a weird manner. But the most important thing is that they have long scarves wrapped around their necks, tied in a knot somewhere in the middle of their backs.

It’s a Tirran scarf, signifying that the man, wearing it is a “yer”, someone who married another man.

“What happened?” Asks me one of these guys. He is tall with an aged face full of wrinkles, that do not make him look old, though, just mature.

“She fell.” I answer. “Please take her, I must be going now.”

The second, younger man grabs Henessada by the shoulders, as she is so unsteady on her feet.

“Remember this boy, Midlandori” She says “He will be coming for you quite shortly.”

The older man, named Midlandori, looks at me intently, and frowns.

Sarji wants to go, and pulls me away.

“The winged creature is after you!” Henessada whispers.

I can barely hear her in the rumble of the crowd, and realize that she is psychic.

“No, that’s my friend Immaul”.

“I’m not talking about arkchil. Beware. His craft is hanging over this city, unseen by any of you fools.”

“Come on!” Midlandori and the young man nudge Henessada to move on.

They leave, and I stand in the middle of the street, constantly pushed by passersby and various vendors, with baskets full of goods, produce, and God knows what else.

Her words stun me into a stupor. I remember my dream last night in the forest.

“It was not a dream, he was there for real! What is that thing? Who is he, Immaul?” I think, knowing, that my friend can hear my thoughts anywhere, even is he is not here right now.

There is no answer for a while. Sarji snorts. He is hungry and thirsty, and I need to take care of him, but I’m so scared, I can’t move. Finally I hear Immaul’s voice in my head:

“I can’t tell you, Demi… And I can’t protect you.”

Nice going! OK, let’s just get home.

The sun hides behind gray clouds that spell almost imminent rain, as I come to my house. My father is walking out to get into the carriage, and starts crying at the sight of me. He rushes to hug me tightly and lovingly. Wow, where did that come from?!

“Demi! You did not die! Dara’s messenger told us you were killed in the forest of Shenelezis valley! We were going to go… get the body to bury you!!!” Mevild breaks down, and hugs me even stronger.

I notice that Letaluan looks out of the carriage’s window, and his face is not happy, to put it mildly. He wanted me gone. This man has plenty of reasons.

There is not anything I could not bend with my will. Now I know that if I wished him dead, he would be dead. But I have compassion for this man. He is tormented by temptations, vices, bad habits. He looks fine on the outside, but on the inside he is a rotten apple, full of crawling worms, eating him alive. I’m not offended that he lusts for me. I’m not worried that he wants my father’s money, and hates me for being an heir. Let him be.

Where is my Dotristiar? I hope they did not sell him, or something.

Servants come out of the house, hearing the commotion. Natakruna, a young girl of about ten, runs with a smile through her tears. She has a crush on me. A bad one. Her mother is wasting her breath telling her, that she will not be able to marry her master’s son. But the girl is strong, stubborn, and painfully in love. I hug her, inhale the smell of her sun-drenched hair, feel the warmth of her hands, and realize that she will go where I go. Fine with me!

I leave Sarji to the care of stable men, and go to look for my teacher.

He is in my room, crestfallen and distraught. He has not eaten or slept in two days.

The gusty wind picks up, and flies in the open window. Dot’s raven-black hair is blown off his face, but he does not move, stricken with grief of his loss. He does not even care about his fate. The news of my death had already killed him.

I come and hug him from behind. Dot does not move at first, and then he turns his head, and his eyes grow wide with disbelief.

“You… you’re alive?” He grabs me, and just does not let go.

We sit like that, enjoying the wind, the life, and our connection.

“I was ordered to chase two men in love. If I tracked them down, at least one of them would’ve been killed. However you and I would’ve entered the service of a wealthy man, who could’ve given you freedom.”

“Did you?” Dot presses his lips together, waiting for an answer nervously.

“No. I could not betray our brothers.”

“Good!” My teacher breathes a sigh of relief. “I don’t need freedom at this price.”

“Me neither, my friend, me neither.”

It starts to rain. Streams of sparkling water are infused with information it collected for millions of years on Earth and elsewhere. It whispers of things unknown and places unseen. Sometimes long gone, sometimes yet to come.

It takes with it all my worries but for one – who is that creature with amethyst-purple wings, and how do I manage to attract so much trouble so fast?

My father is nice to me all day. It’s a short reprieve, but I’m grateful. In the evening I go to the stables to visit with my buddy. Sarji is happy to see me, and they took good care of him. There is barely any trace of the arrow wounds. Just a small scar on his belly.

“It won’t affect your beauty!” I smile, touching the scar, amazed at what my “parasite” can do. Weird stuff. I need to experiment more to see what else I’m capable of.

“I need your help!” I hear suddenly from behind.

Turning quickly I find Letaluan. He crept up so quietly. Why? He looks upset, though.

Sarji looks at my father’s favorite servant. His gaze is haunting, almost all-seeing. This horse went through tremendous change ever since I have shared my energy with him. He is evolving mentally more than physically. Sarji sends me a thought form reading something like this: “Beware. Nothing good can come out of this.”