Velvet seats, well-cushioned and fixed to the floor, provided Masis, across from King Othrad, an easy recline while the rail-ship, the largest he had ever seen, with more than a dozen vessels linked together, rushed along, the constant hiss of air issuing from the wind-stones outside. The whole arrangement creaked and groaned as bumps shifted the vessel about. He had always wondered how wind could possibly move so much weight. Now that the linked wooden caravan creaked and swayed along the windtrack, moving at terrific speeds, he marveled that they would be able to get it all to stop.
Two days after this whole venture had been proposed he, Lady Kyla, King Othrad, Master Elwith and all the rest had boarded the rail-ship, heading for Monvé, another of the four forest duchies. The nightlings had said they would travel as quickly as they could at night to arrive when the others did. Masis could still detect remnants of their bitter, corroding aroma. Their hollow, gaping presence, in his mindeye impenetrable, disturbingly so, still at the forefront of his mind, that blackness into which he now knew his family's lifelight had disappeared. His jaw clenched at the thought, hands balling in his lap. His eyes, unfocused, stared down toward the floor, blurry lines and smudged colors dominating his vision.
"You know in these last few days," said King Othrad, forcing Masis from his thoughts, "I've never expressed my sympathy for your loss. We, the queen and I, were devastated when we heard the news. I had a great respect for both of your parents. They were two of the best people I'd ever known, and that's not some meaningless platitude. Your father lived to help those below him, and your mother, well, let's just say I can't think of a single person that wasn't in love with her."
Masis eyes, once filled with the brown blur of King Othrad's boots, had traveled to his face, watching the words as they left the monarch's mouth. Gentle. Reverent even. Somber blue streaks melted out from the core of his lifelight, sympathetically and sincerely bitter. Masis swallowed the tension that had built in his throat.
"Thank you," he said, managing to work the words out.
King Othrad nodded, lowering his gaze while rubbing his stubbled chin. "I... I know the pain you have been enduring over these past weeks and months. I've lost family as well. When I was your age, I lost my older brother in a hunting accident." He smiled with bittersweet nostalgia. "He would have been a good king... a better king."
Masis sat motionless, his mind finding no appropriate words to respond with.
King Othrad's eyes returned to Masis' face, slack with discomfort. "But you're probably thinking to yourself, 'this old fool doesn't know what he's talking about. I lost my entire family.'" Sighing, the king's shoulders sank. "And you're probably right. But unlike you, I never expected to inherit the throne or to marry my brothers betrothed," tearing up and his voice breaking, "or lose a child."
Eyes threatening to over spill their bounds, King Othrad squared his shoulders with a raspy, sniffling breath.
Masis sat stock still. The weighty impulse to extend a hand to his sovereign resided in his arm, just not the will. It remained where it sat on his leg. His eyes ricocheted about the compartment, always rebounding off the various objects then back to the king every other heartbeat.
Masis' muscles tensed with uncertainty. What in Manu's name am I supposed to do!
"Forgive me." The king harrumphed. "Forgive me. I've made you uncomfortable. It's a story most do not know. Some have wondered why my wife and I have gone so long without producing an heir. I'm sure even your parents must have talked about it on occasion."
Masis' mouth opened to speak but no words came.
"You don't need to make excuses," said King Othrad with a raised hand. "I'm sure there has been speculation on the matter from every quarter. You needn't try to deny it. The truth, that only few are privy to, is my wife was pregnant some years ago. But," lowering his voice, "it was not to be. The baby was lost and my wife nearly lost along with... her."
The king fell silent and his eyes collapsed with his dying words towards the ground. Hands clasped in his lap, tensing and relaxing, he shuffled his feet about.
Still Masis found nothing in his panicked, scurrying mind. The man now before him, choked with emotion, lifelight bleeding with melancholy blues and sickly greens, both bitter and spoiled at once, was not the king he had imagined all his life. When he had first met King Othrad as a boy, he had met a giant, powerful and wise, nigh unto a god. Even in subsequent years, as maturity sprouted in Masis and deity seemed to fade from the king, the man had still seemed monumental. But the person sitting in front of him now was surprisingly fleshy. Hot and feeble blood, that could run cold, coursed through his veins. Mortality's fatal mantle came to rest on the king's shoulder's in that instant for Masis, and that realization shook through his body.
King Othrad glanced up.
Masis coughed to cover his ponderings.
"That is why," said King Othrad, smiling with his lips pressed firmly together. "That is why I'm doing this now. The treaty and all other matters connected to it. I might not be able to leave an heir, but I can at least leave a legacy—a brighter future."
The nearly undetectable footfalls of another person, not to mention the familiar animal proportioned lifelight now bobbing into his mindeye, saved Masis from having to respond.
"Lady Kyla, did you need anything?" asked Masis, practically springing from his seat.
The steps hiccupped but continued. Lady Kyla descended into the space moments later, her dress replaced with her usual dark jerkin, leggings, and winigas. Her feet were bare. Her face harbored a twitch of annoyance.
The king rose from his seat, reaching a steadying hand up to a beam above his head. "Lady Kyla, I hope you're comfortable and the accommodations are to your liking."
"They'll do," she responded matter-of-factly. "I'm going to need Masis' help with something."
"Of course," said King Othrad, ignoring her familiarity with a squirming smile and coughed chuckle. "Is there anything else I might be able to offer to make the journey more to your liking?"
"Nothing."
She turned to go, but Masis coughed sharply to pull her back. He squinted his eyes at her before nodding his head toward the monarch.
He's the king, woman! He wanted to bark at her.
"But thank you, sir, for your kind offer," said Kyla, working the words out of her mouth like something caught between her teeth.
"My pleasure." King Othrad bowed his head. "But if there is anything..." His words trailed off as he brought his head up. Lady Kyla had already gone. He shook his head. "A fascinating woman that."
"That's one way to describe her," muttered Masis.
Chuckling, King Othrad gave him a paternal slap on the shoulder. "Best not keep her waiting. Keeping any woman waiting is dangerous, but I imagine that particular female could do far more damage than the rest."
"Sir, you have no idea," said Masis, ascending the stairs two at a time.
Coming into the light of the afternoon sun, summer rich air swirling through his hair, Masis shivered as the breeze chilled his damp shirt to a near frigid level. He had not realized how much he had sweated during his session with the king. Squinting at Wilo, hung low, golden, crisp, and lazy, Masis took in the burnished grain fields, awns heavy and ready for harvest, as they sped by. They had left behind the coast's green fields some time ago. Masis took a long pull of the summer air, heavy with pollen and heady with earth.
The Grand Palaces Beyond must be surrounded by constant summer, thought Masis, imagining his family playing in the gilded field before him.
Saret and Danya scurried about through the tall grass, giggling in their pursuit of each other. In his mind, Saret turned unbidden toward him, staring into his eyes. Her smile grew brighter as she gestured for Masis to join them.
Panic vibrated through his body and he shook his head, clearing the ghosts from his eyes. Hands grasping at the wood beam before him, Masis found he had moved to the vessel's railing without realizing his feet had carried him there. Hands still clutching the well-worked timber, Masis closed his eyes to the rippling fields and all their golden, hypnotic waves.
Someday, Masis thought. But not today...
"I have failed you, Masis Domrae." Lady Kyla's voice called out behind him, easily heard over the constant thrum of the wind.
Opening his eyes, the visions' effect falling from him, Masis turned and found Kyla balanced on the opposite railing. She held nothing to steady her balance but it never faltered, no matter the bumps or rocking. Like her demeanor, her lifelight did not waver, holding no spectrum of colors other than emotionless white.
Glancing to his right and left to find the other men on deck staring wide-eyed at the half-mad woman, Masis' eyebrow rose in query.
"Kyla, what are you doing?" His voice held little patience as though dealing with a child.
"What any teacher should do when they have failed their pupil and are no longer any use to them," she glanced back over her shoulder, "stepping out with dignity."
"Kyla stop playing games." Masis made to leave, acting nonchalant for the benefit of the men, but his heart had begun to canter.
She never plays games, he thought, forcing his muscles not to tighten.
"You see," said Kyla, eyes flashing with the light of the setting sun, "if I had truly taught you anything, you would know that this is not a game."
A flare of stubborn acidic orange radiated out of Kyla's lifelight.
"Kyla, what are you doing?" asked Masis, his tone lowering to just above the wind's white noise, unheard by the men but he knew easily detectable by her.
"What needs to be done." She cast her gaze behind her again. "I've failed, but that doesn't mean you will."
She stepped back. And fell.
Masis' heart sped to a gallop. Time slowed.
He took a step, a hand thrust out. Another step, faster, its force aching the bone. He bellowed.
The deckhands shouted as well.
Kyla's lower body disappeared behind the side of the vessel.
Two more steps thudded into the deck, a sprint now. He wasn't going to make it.
No. No! NO! Not again!
Kyla's body disappeared from sight, a scowl on her face.
Four more steps brought Masis slamming into the railing, doubling him at the middle as he scored the blurring ground below.
No body lay by the tracks.
He yanked his head back in the direction from which they had come. Nothing. Masis even failed to detect a flicker of her lifelight in his mindeye. Gaze panicked, breathing forgotten, Masis' eyes wildly roved about, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.
"Why, by Manu's light, do you have to be so ruddy difficult?!" Kyla's voice barked out behind him.
He tore about. Breath stolen. Every muscle trying to act at once.
Kyla stood on the opposite railing limned in sunlight. Hands on hips, lips pulled down at the corners, she jumped to the deck without a sound.
Masis smiled with relief, exhaling his too long held air. Lungs empty, his chest tightened and his smile snapped into a straight line. "What were you trying to do?! Were you trying to frighten us to death?! Because believe me it almost worked."
Kyla leaned back against the railing, an elbow propped on it and her opposite hand coming up to clasp about her wrist. "If you'd actually do what I wanted you to, I wouldn't have had to drag these men into our little training sessions."
Masis' jaw clenched shut. Shadow you!
The men grumbled, as they went back to their posts.
"Is everything alright up here?" asked King Othrad, poking his head up from below decks.
"No," said Masis.
"Yes," said Kyla at the same time.
King Othrad toggled between the pair for a few moments. "Right. Well, I can see you all have this under control. I'm going below for a snack. Would anyone care for something? No?"
He disappeared, not waiting for an answer.
Silence fell.
Wilo's rays shone into Masis' eyes, forcing him to squint while the fading light warmed his face. It did not need any assistance on that front. His cheeks pulsed with blood and the tips of his ears practically burned with it.
"What was I supposed to have learned this time, O Wise One?" asked Masis, lowering his tone but not his snarl. "How to prepare for your untimely death?"
"I would have hoped your previous experiences would have adequately prepared you for that eventuality," said Kyla, leaning her face back into Wilo's remaining presence, relaxing her muscles with contentment.
By Manu! Masis screamed in his head.
He jumped the distance between them in a single bound. Reaching a hand toward Kyla's throat, he forced his arm back to his side, jittery and jolting all the way down.
Kyla had not bothered to open her eyes. Most of the crew had looked at Masis' sudden movement. They averted their gazes just as quickly.
"Why didn't you do that to try and save me? Hmmm?" Kyla kept her eyes closed, face absorbing the sun's rays. "Now, imagine being able to cover that distance in less time. Imagine covering that same distance before your adversary had a chance to blink. Literally." She opened her eyes as she inclined her face toward Masis. "You may be the Warden, and your past experiences may have made you stronger and better motivated than most, but you are still incomplete. Until you learn to move between this plane and heofon, the Great Wolves' previous plane, you will be incomplete."
Spasms coursed through Masis' frame. He had very nearly shifted into his wolvan form but had ultimately wrestled his lifelight into an uneasy submission—it only waited to erupt within him.
"And how do I do that?" he asked, his voice tight. "The instinctual path obviously isn't working for me."
"You have to understand it's different for every Warden." Kyla pushed off from the railing. "The way I describe it is... it's like parting a screen that separates two rooms. It's that simple and that easy. The difficult part is drawing a veil that can't be seen or felt. That's why it's always done by instinct."
"Maybe if you'd have explained the idea to me before, my instincts would have known what route to take." The heat formerly possessing Masis began to disperse as his mind tried to understand the concept Kyla had put therein.
"Possibly." Kyla nodded, scenting the air before sighting down the long train of vessels, something having caught her attention. "But sometimes it is easier to do by instinct rather than by faith."
"Still you might want to try a different approach to this..." Masis' voice trailed off, as it became apparent Kyla no longer listened as she stared off down the line of berths. "Kyla? Kyla?! KYLA?!"
"Hmmm? What? Yes?" she said, turning back to Masis. "By all means contemplate that. I'm going to stretch my legs."
She strode away, leaping to the next vessel in the line when she came to the end of their own. She meandered rather than kept a straight course, moving from one side of the vessel to the other, but always she moved farther back.
Masis shook his head as he watched her progress, trying to blow away in residual frustration. Heading to the hatch to below decks, he cast his eyes toward her one more time. She had made it to the next vessel in the line.
Stretching her legs? Masis shrugged, shaking the last of his tension away. That snack idea the king had sounded good.
He descended below decks without another glance.
*DON'T FORGET TO VOTE*