Wrath of the White Tigress

Chapter 21

Once again, Arhrhakim roamed the lands of Pawan Kor. Hyrkas, Chaolis, and Lharro wore their hoods up more than necessary and they rode huddled together, cowed by open land and a vast sky. The night amazed them. On Vaalshimar, they had never seen so many stars, so clear and distinct. And their first sighting of the faint blue-green Eye Nebula shocked them since it perfectly matched the Eye of the Farseer hieroglyph. Chaolis surged with pride, Hyrkas as well. They passed their enthusiasm on to the others. Only Lharro, who missed his homeland, wasn't excited.

Though Zyrella's mood improved, she remained withdrawn. Twice she had sex with Ohzikar, but she wouldn't dare more than that. While it had restored the energy she had depleted against Salahn, it had sent Ohzikar into a morbid depression. He rarely spoke to anyone and was having trouble learning the palymfar arts from Jaska.

Zyrella again grew comfortable in Jaska's presence. Several times she spoke with him about the weather and terrain. She listened while he taught palymfar concepts to the others over their campfire at night. And she watched in the mornings, when despite the speed of their pace, Jaska took them through palymfar exercises and meditations. Whenever the mounts were resting, Jaska was teaching.

He was an excellent and patient instructor. That was clearly why the other palymfar had followed him with such devotion. Even while corrupted by Salahn's sorceries, he had cared about each of his students. His might have been the only love some of those men had ever received, even if he was brutal and harshly demanding of them.

~~~

On the tenth day, they reached the borderlands of the Sheflar Wastes, a pebbled expanse with little water, vegetation, or animal life. Once the Sheflar Wastes had been the primary homeland of the Eirsenda, but with their demise, so went the land that had nourished them.

They were two days out from the caravan post of Ekris, a town the rust-colored desert had swallowed decades ago. It was little more than a village now. Jaska placed their camp within a shallow ravine that held a tiny seep. That night, after Jaska finished his combat instructions, Zyrella approached him.

"Can I speak with you in private?"

"Of course."

She walked around the seep to the other end of the ravine, out of sight of the camp. She carried a small leather bag with her. "I'm sorry I've been distant."

"I understand."

"At least the pain makes us strong, right?"

"If it does then you and I must be the strongest people in the world."

"I hope so. We will need to be to stop a god." She lifted the bag. "I have a gift for you."

Jaska took the bag and looked within. His eyes grew large with astonishment as he looked upon a dozen qavra stones set within palymfar chokers. "Where did you get these?"

"From the Farseer. Remnants of the palymfar who chased us. I didn't want the others to see them because I didn't know if you would want them to have them."

"That's probably for the best. The spells require the most preparation and learning of all, far more than the combat maneuvers and meditations." He retied the bag. "Thank you, Zyrella."

She swept several strands of hair from her face. Under Avida's light, her pale skin shined with vitality. How, Jaska wondered, had he been cursed to fall in love with two sisters so much alike and yet so different?

"I'm having trouble with the new chakra meditations I learned," Jaska said. "Could you help me?"

"Of course." She smiled wryly. "I wasn't going to do anything else but mope about and think of things I cannot change."