All Things Begin - The Anmah Series Book 1

As the darkness grew less and the trees around him changed from black to gray sentinels, Ga’briyel knew it was almost time. He left Sophyra to make a torch, and stood silently at her pyre facing east so that he would know the moment of first light. The minutes crept along, and before he had to burn his heart to ashes, Dinton, Tero, and Mathi were standing opposite him, lending him what little support they could. Tero was holding Mathi close to him, and the boy was crying softly, his head on the captain’s side.

Finally, it was first light.

He stepped forward with the torch, lit it at the fire, and moved back to the pyre. He hung his head and whispered, “I am so sorry, my heart. I should have been here to protect you.” He looked up and tried to stretch his arm out to light the pyre, but it would not move. His hand shook as he tried to force himself to light the wood. Finally, he dropped to his knees and sobbed, “I cannot!”

Dinton moved to him and put his hand on the torch. “I will do it, my friend. Let me help you.”

Ga’briyel just nodded and relinquished the torch. He knelt on the ground and buried his face in his hands. He could not watch the woman he loved go up in flames. He heard the crackle of the wood as Dinton lit it, and his stomach lurched. He turned and crawled away a few paces and emptied what little there was in his stomach. As he stayed there on hands and knees, he thought of what he had decided to do. He could not live without her. Once the pyre was blazing fully, he would kill himself by throwing himself on it. The world be damned.

Suddenly, he heard Tero gasp.“Did you see that?”

“See what?” Dinton asked softly.

“I swear to Yisu I saw her move.”

Ga’briyel brought his head up, a sliver of hope working its way underneath the blanket of grief that was crushing him.

“That is impossible,” Dinton was saying.

“Why?” Tero said excitedly. “Why could she not be Anmah?”

Ga’briyel turned around, still on the ground, his eyes fixed on the pyre. The flames were licking at the uppermost layer of wood, and he carefully watched the body, as did the other two.

“Ma’ikel said hundreds of years between Anmah,” Ga’briyel whispered. “It has only been fifteen.”At that moment, all of the men caught their breath when there was an unmistakable ripple underneath the cloak.“Get her off!” Ga’briyel roared as he jumped to his feet and rushed to the pyre. He was on the opposite side from his friends, and he gave Sophyra a shove that sent her rolling off into their arms. He ran around the flames just as they were placing her on the ground. Mathi was standing next to her, wringing his hands.

“Is she really alive, Captain Mistri?”

“Please, please,” Ga’briyel whispered over and over as he frantically unwound his cloak. His friends stepped back. “Yisu, please, please.”

He could definitely feel movement as he finished unwrapping the cloak from Sophyra’s head, and he sobbed when he saw violet eyes open and lock on his own.

“Ga’briyel? What happened? Why am I all wrapped up?”

Reaching out a trembling hand, he touched Sophyra’s face just to reassure himself that she was real and not a figment of his wishful thinking. Then he scooted close to her, helped her get her arms free, and sat her up. She held his cloak beneath her arms to cover herself, and he trailed his fingertips over her arms. Finally, he took her face in his hands and stared at her in disbelief.

“You are alive,” he breathed, and he kissed her softly. “Holy Yisu, you are alive.”

Sophyra frowned. “I was dead, yes?”

Ga’briyel nodded and then smiled brightly, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “And now you are not,” he said. “You are Anmah, like me.”

Her frown deepened. “How is that possible? There should not be another Anmah for hundreds of years.”

“I do not know,” he answered happily, “but you are. The eyes do not lie.” He trailed his finger along her neck where there used to be a gaping wound. “Neither does a healing like this.”

“Yisu could not very well let you die, could He?”

Ga’briyel stood quickly, bringing Sophyra with him as a deep voice came from the edge of the clearing. He held her to his side and said, “Mathi, go back by the captains, please.”

As the boy did as he asked, Dinton asked, “What is happening, Ga’briyel?” His voice was not quite steady.

“We are about to have a visitation,” Ga’briyel said quietly.

“Ga’briyel, I can leave you alone,” Sophyra whispered.

“Not a chance,” Ga’briyel said, pulling her closer as he stood straighter. “Show yourself, Debaduta!”

A glow appeared in front of them, and Sophyra tensed as it formed into the same Debaduta that had visited Ga’briyel before.

“A third time?”

The Debaduta shrugged as he walked toward them. “As I said, things are happening that have never happened before.” He gestured at Sophyra. “She stands here alive as proof of that.”

“Did you have anything to do with that?”

“Me? Only to the extent that I gave Yisu my opinion. Apparently, He listened.”

“And what was your opinion?”

“That you would really do it, and that the world would be doomed if you did.”

“Do what?” Tero asked from behind Ga’briyel.

The Debaduta looked at him and narrowed his eyes. “Yet another first,” he muttered.

“What is that?” Ga’briyel asked.

“Never before has a Debaduta appeared to this many people at once. I would not have done it with you and the boy if it had not been absolutely necessary to keep him alive.” The Debaduta stopped and tilted his head to one side. Ga’briyel knew he was listening to Yisu. A look of surprise flashed across the spirit's face, but then he became as stoic as ever. “I now have a name as well,” he said softly, and then he looked at Ga’briyel. “You may refer to me as Telantes. Yisu has decided that if I am to be helping you, I should have a name.”

“You did not answer my question,” Tero put in. “What was Ga’briyel going to do?”

“That is for him to tell you if he chooses. I am here for another reason. The five of you must immediately return to Grama. The people you left there are confused and scared, and there is only one old woman to guide them. They need your help.” Telantes looked at Ga’briyel and narrowed his eyes. “You,” he said, pointing at him, “need to be less selfish. You need to remember that the world depends on you, and you do not have the luxury of doing only what you want. No matter how painful the alternative is.” He nodded at Sophyra. “She is not supposed to be here, but your decision made this necessary. Do not waste this gift you have forced the Creator to give you. Use it to make you stronger. And remember, the Daitya can kill her as easily as a mortal human. If that happens, you cannot let yourself give in to narrow-minded desires again.”

Ga’briyel felt like he was seven years old again, listening to his father lecture him after he threw a tantrum in the training grounds because one of the older boys had beaten him in a fight. As he had done with his father then, he now stood straight and looked Telantes in the eye.

“You are right,” he said. “I should never have made that decision. I am not sure I would have followed through with it anyway.”

“Oh, you would have,” Telantes said, clasping the Anmah on the shoulder, “and Sayatan would have won. You are all that stands between him and the world, Ga’briyel. Never forget that.”

“I will not. Never again, I promise.”

Telantes scoffed. “Human promises do not hold much weight with me, but I will take it in the spirit in which it was given. Now, go to Grama. Ask for Nikale; she will help you help the others.”

He drifted backward and diminished until there was nothing but the wind in the trees. Ga’briyel stared at the empty forest for a moment, and then he turned to the others, his arm still around Sophyra.

“Put out the pyre and break camp. We go to Grama.” The others nodded and quickly set about to do as he said. Ga’briyel led Sophyra to her saddlebags and was about to tell her to dress, but then he pulled her into his arms. “Forgive me, my heart,” he whispered in her ear. “Please forgive me.”

“For what, Ga’briyel? You could not have known what would happen. There was no reason for you to think anything would happen to me. Besides, I am Anmah now, so it does not even matter.”

He caught his breath, and everything Telantes had said settled into his brain like a sack of bricks. He had known something would happen, and when it did, he had been selfish and childish and wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong. The words he wanted to say to Sophyra stayed in his throat. He wanted to tell her that Yisu had told him someone would die, but he was afraid she would hate him for not protecting her. He wanted to tell her that the only reason she was Anmah was because he could not live without her, that he had been willing to hand the entire world over to Sayatan rather than let her go, but he knew she would not understand, so he stepped away from her and said coldly, “Get dressed. We need to leave.” He started to move toward Kumar, but she grabbed his arm. He stopped but did not look at her.

"Ga’briyel? What is the matter?”

Unshed tears of dishonor and shame burned his eyes, and he shook his head silently before pulling his arm from her grasp and walking away. Dinton and Tero watched him as he saddled Kumar, but they said nothing. He shut everyone’s thoughts away behind a wall thick enough to survive any amount of battering, but he could not avoid feeling their worry. Worry for him, and Sophyra’s was the strongest. It slithered over and around him like a serpent, hissing in his ear and tormenting him with its accusing stare. He deserved the torment, though, and he finished saddling Kumar. When he moved back to Sophyra to get his saddlebags, she stepped in front of him and put her hands on his chest.

“Talk to me,” she said softly, and he felt her worry intensify tenfold.

He took her wrists in his hands and pushed her away from him. He gritted his teeth painfully and looked into her violet Anmah eyes. His own eyes blazed brightly with guilt and self-disgust. Without a word, he grabbed his bags and turned from her. He slung them behind his saddle and mounted his horse. It was only then that he realized he did not have his sword. He looked around the camp.

“Looking for this, Captain Mistri?”

He swung Kumar around at the angry words. Dinton was standing a few paces away with Ga’briyel’s sword laid across his open palms. Kicking Kumar into motion, the Anmah closed the distance between them, reached down, and took the hilt. He nodded his gratitude, slid the blade into its scabbard, and turned his horse toward Grama. Without waiting for the others, he dug in his heels.

"Ga’briyel! Wait!”

Once again, he ignored Dinton’s calls and continued toward the town. He did not want to talk to anyone, did not want to admit his disgrace, his stupidity. He had only gotten a short distance when Dinton maneuvered Shala through the trees and stopped in his path. Ga’briyel had no choice but to pull Kumar to a halt.

“What do you think you are doing, Anmah?”

“Let me by, Dinton,” he growled.

“No! Not until you explain your behavior toward Sophyra.”

“I do not have to explain anything to you, Captain Sikara! You follow my orders, remember? Now get out of my way!”

“This has nothing to do with orders, and you know it! Use your blasted ability, Mistri, and maybe you will realize what you just left behind you.”

Ga’briyel snarled at his friend. “I know what is back there, Sikara, and if Sophyra hates me, it is no more than I deserve.”

Dinton’s eyes went wide. “Hates you? What are you talking about? She does not hate you. She thinks you do not love her anymore because she is Anmah like you. She is devastated! What did you say to her?”

Speaking each word distinctly and with enough ice to freeze flames, Ga’briyel said, ”Move, Captain, or I will move you.”

His friend stared at him for a moment, his lip curled in contempt, but then he backed Shala to the side. Ga’briyel urged Kumar forward, and the horse complied. He moved as quickly as possible through the dense trees, and the others kept their distance behind him. At one point, just before he broke through the forest to the lip of the valley, Ga’briyel opened his mind to Sophyra, but when he realized she was sobbing uncontrollably, he forced it closed again. When the last of the trees were behind him, he spun Kumar around. The other three horses stood side by side. Dinton and Tero glared at him, Sophyra had her head down, and Mathi sat silently behind her saddle, his eyes wide and full of confusion.

“Stay here,” he told the captains, and when Tero opened his mouth, he snarled. “Son of a goat, Captain, shut it! I said stay here!”

“No, Captain,” Tero answered stiffly. “I will not let you go down there alone to possibly be killed. You do not know what to expect from these people.”

Ga’briyel spat out a harsh laugh. “Killed? That is funny. What could they do to me? Burn me? I have not died that way yet. An arrow? I suppose that would work for me just as well as those guards we killed.” He stabbed a finger at Sophyra. “She did not even believe Anmah were real! That horeson who had her did not know what I was! What makes you think the people down there will? Even if they kill me, I will be fine tomorrow. Now stay here! All of you!”

Without waiting to see if they obeyed, Ga’briyel spun Kumar around and galloped down the slope into the valley. He raced through the gates and continued into the square. The few women and children who were in the streets scattered at his approach, but he barely noticed them. He reined in his horse in the middle of the town and stood in his stirrups.

“Where is Nikale?” he shouted. “Nikale! Come out!”

A quiet shuffle came from his right, and when he turned in that direction, he saw an old woman step out from the doorway of a gray stone building. Her wispy white hair was plaited down her back, and her face was a mass of wrinkles, but her dark eyes were bright and intelligent. She was clothed in a rough canvas dress almost the same color as the stone, and around her waist was a belt hung with dozens of pouches and small bags.

“I am Nikale,” she said, her voice stronger than her frail body would have suggested. “Who are you?”

He slid from the saddle. Nikale was shorter than Sophyra, and he had to look down at her. “My name is Ga’briyel Mistri. I was told to talk to you after all your men were dead.”

She closed one eye and peered at him intently with the other. “Who told you that?”

“A Debaduta. His name is Telantes.”

“You lie. Debaduta have no names.”

Ga’briyel clenched his teeth as his hand drifted to his hip. “This one does. And never call me a liar, woman!”

“What does he look like?”

With a sigh, he said, “He is taller than me and dressed all in white. He visited me once in my dreams and twice while I was awake.”

She nodded slowly. “It may be as you say, Anmah, but then again, someone may have told you about the Debaduta. How am I to know?”

The use of his title surprised him. “You know what I am?”

“Of course I do, child. I am not an idiot.”

“And I am not a liar. What I tell you is the truth.” He frowned when he heard the sound of horseshoes on cobblestones, and his head slowly turned toward the main entrance of the town. Sure enough, Dinton and Tero guided their horses through the crowd that had formed around him and the old woman. Sophyra followed, but she stayed near the buildings away from him. Gasps filled the air as women finally recognized the men who had killed their husbands and sons.

He turned back to Nikale, ignoring his friends. “Listen, I was told to come to you to help you with the women, children, and slaves left here, so here I am. What needs to be done?”

The woman was about to answer when a small girl, maybe five or six years old, tugged on her skirts. Nikale bent down, and the girl whispered in her ear.

“I think so, dear. Why?”

The girl did not answer but instead stepped up to Ga’briyel. “Did you kill my baba?”

Ga’briyel squatted down in front of her. “Probably.”

“Are you going to kill me, too?”

He frowned and looked up at Nikale. “Is that what she asked you? You think I am going to kill her?”

“No,” the old woman answered. “She asked if you killed her baba. If you were going to kill the rest of us, you would have done it last night.”

His frown deepened, and the little girl shied away from him when he looked back at her. “I am not going to kill anyone here, little one. I...” He glanced up at his friends and his heart. “We are here to help you.”

She stared at him for a moment as if weighing his words, and then she bowed her head. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Killing my baba. He was mean. He hurt me.” She turned around and pulled her nightshirt over her shoulder. A dark purple bruise peeked out from beneath the white fabric.

Ga’briyel could not stop a low rumble from escaping him. “Why did he do that?”

The girl faced him. “I did not get his boots clean enough, and he kicked me.”

He wanted to ask more, but instead, he stood up and looked at Nikale. “Does everyone feel the same?”

She studied him for a moment. “For the most part. There are a few boys who would like to kill you, but they will get over it once they realize they will not be hurt anymore.”

He closed his eyes and let the emotions of the townspeople wash over him. He felt a few flames of anger, no doubt from the boys she mentioned, and there was a good portion of suffocating fear. He could still feel the worry from his companions slithering around him, but by far, the sensation that overwhelmed all the others was that of a soft breeze caressing him, brushing his hair lightly and surrounding him in what felt almost like a hug. He knew it for what it was. Gratitude. He opened his eyes.

“What is your position in this town, Nikale?”

“Me? Nothing official. I am just an old woman who knows about herbs and medicines and people.”

“Are you a slave?”

“No. My husband was overseer of Grama for over fifty years until he died. Because of that, I am a citizen, not a slave.”

Ga’briyel nodded. “How can we help you? Telantes said you needed help.”

The old woman’s eyes narrowed. “You killed all our men and now you want to help us? Why?”

The Anmah sighed. “Look, I am just doing what I was told. If you do not want my help, that is fine with me.” He turned toward his horse, but a new voice stopped him with his foot in the stirrup.

“Wait! Do not go, please.”

He dropped his foot and faced the woman as she pushed her way through the crowd. She was about as tall as Sophyra, and her hair was as black as coal. She stopped in front of him and dropped to her knees.

“Oh, for Yisu’s sake,” he groaned. “Stand up.”

She did, but she kept her eyes on the ground. “Please do not go, sir. Nikale is old and stubborn, but we do need your help. There are raiding parties that are due back soon, and they will kill us all if they think we rebelled and slaughtered our men. Please stay and protect us.”

“How many parties?”

“I do not know for sure. Only the warriors knew that, but I think there are five.”

“How many men in each party?”

“Anywhere between five and twenty.”

“Do you know when they are due back?”

“All within the next sennight, sir. That is when the Feast of Yud’dha begins, and they will all be back for that.”

“Feast of Yud’dha? What is that?”

"It is two sennights of feasts and fighting and competitions to celebrate the successful raids this year. They would not miss it.”

Ga’briyel looked at Dinton and Tero, and they both nodded. “Fine,” he said, turning back to the woman. “We will stay. Is there anything we can help with until they return?”

Nikale spoke up. “You could help us with the bodies you left behind. There are a lot of them, after all.”

The Anmah glared at her. “And what would you like us to do with them?”

She pointed to the east. “There’s a large space outside the town where you could leave them. We do not have enough land to bury them.”

“Yes, Nikale,” he said sarcastically, bowing from the waist. “Whatever you say.”

She snorted. “No need to be rude, boy.”

He felt her disapproval like a whip across his shoulders. He knew he should apologize for his behavior, but he did not. He was still upset about Sophyra, and this old woman’s attitude toward what he saw as a willingness to help was not making his mood any better. He turned his back on her.

“Dinton, Tero, we have got work to do.”

They dismounted, and the three men walked to the nearest bodies. They just happened to be the men who had killed Sophyra, and Ga’briyel growled. He could not make himself touch them, so he left them to his friends and hoisted a third body over his shoulder. “Show me this space, Nikale.”

The old woman nodded and walked in front of him out of the town. Dinton and Tero picked up the other two bodies and followed him. About a hundred paces from the gates, Nikale stopped in a dirt clearing that was surrounded by logs.

“What is this place?” Tero asked as he laid his body down in the center of the clearing.

“It is where the competitions would have taken place for the feast had you not been here. It is where several slaves would have died and where the newest men would have taken their rightful places within the town. It is where they would have taken their first public conquest of a woman so that everyone would know they were men.”

“Public conquest?” Dinton said as he put his body in the center of the clearing next to Tero’s. “What does that mean?”

The old woman looked at him like he was dense. “It means that they take their women in public. Where everyone can see their prowess.”

Dinton looked at her in confusion for a moment, and then understanding slapped him in the face. “Oh,” he said, blushing.

“Yes,” Nikale said, smiling slightly. “Now, if you gentlemen can handle this, I have to figure out who is going to be in charge now. You have left us in quite a state, Ga’briyel Mistri.”

The Anmah frowned at her back as she walked away, but he turned the frown on Dinton when the latter stepped in front of him.

"What is going on with you?” his friend asked.

“I do not want to talk about it,” Ga’briyel grumbled as he tried to step around Dinton. He glared at his friend when he moved to stop him.

“I do not care. You are going to talk about it.”

“Get out of my way, Dinton, or that punch to the jaw will have felt like a kiss.” Ga’briyel’s voice was low, but his eyes were glowing, and Tero stepped between them.

“Let him go, Dinton,” the older man said. “Leave him be.”

Ga’briyel glared at both of them and walked back to the town. He clearly heard the conversation that continued without him, though.

“Tero, he is got to talk about it!”

“I know he does, but not now. I do not know what happened between him and Sophyra, but it is between them. He will talk when he is ready. Let us just get this job done.”

“Fine, but he is really starting to make me mad.”

“Trust me, my friend, you are not the only one. I will most definitely be elsewhere when Sophyra finally corners him.”

That was all he heard. The others became silent as they hauled bodies from the town to the clearing. Four hours later, they were finished, and Ga’briyel quickly fashioned a torch, lit it with his flint and steel, and laid it against the bodies in several places around the perimeter of the pile. He did not know if they would burn or not, but he had to try. He could not just let them rot in the sun however much he wanted to.

All three captains were covered in blood and stank like a midden heap. When they walked back to the town after laying down the last three bodies, they were surprised to see Sophyra and two other women waiting for them. Mathi was nowhere to be seen.

One of the women said, “We have baths ready for you, Captains, and a meal for afterwards. If you will follow us, please?”

Dinton and Tero did so immediately, but Ga’briyel stopped and stared at Sophyra. He kept his mind closed to her, but he felt her anger and her confusion and her pain suffocating him as she stared back silently. Then she spun and followed the others. He sighed deeply and trudged after her.

His friends were led to two different homes, and the women gestured inside before leaving. Sophyra led Ga’briyel to a third home, but she entered before he did. With another sigh, he stepped inside. A wooden washtub was in the middle of the room, the water steaming. Next to it was a towel, soap, and his saddlebags. He paused when Sophyra stood next to the tub.

“Are you staying?” he asked as he pulled his bloody shirt over his head.

“Do you want me to?” Her voice was icy, but he felt her tears wash over him like a flood, and he ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

“Yes, I want you to stay,” he said, looking at her. The tears were dripping down her cheeks, and his chest tightened.

“Why?”

He took a step toward her but stopped when she stiffened.

"Sophyra, I...” Her bottom lip trembled, and he reached out a hand toward her. “My heart, I am so sorry.” She did not move, and he dropped his hand.

“What are you sorry for, Ga’briyel? Ignoring me? Hurting me? Forcing Yisu to make me Anmah? What?”

“All but the last and more.” He took another step toward her, and this time, she did not react. He moved closer and dropped to his knees in front of her. She gasped, but he just covered his face with his hands. “I knew, Sophyra. I knew that one of you was going to die. Yisu Himself told me it would happen. But I swear, I did not think it was going to be you! I am so sorry for not protecting you. I promised to protect you, and those men...” He felt his own tears seeping through his fingers. “I am sorry.”

He shuddered when he felt her arms around his shoulders. When she pulled his head to her chest, he began to sob. “My love,” she whispered, ”it is not your fault. It was Yisu’s will. Stop blaming yourself.”

Shaking his head, he clung to her. “It is my fault. I should have taken you with us. I left you there alone.”

She kissed the top of his head, and he fisted his hands in her dress. “But I am Anmah now, Ga’briyel, so it all turned out for the best.”

“Only because I could not live without you,” he said softly.

“What?” She tried to push him back, but he held on to her too tightly. ”Ga’briyel, what do you mean?”

“Yisu made you Anmah to save my life,” he said bitterly. “I was going to kill myself.”

“No! Why would you do that?”

He took her face in his hands. “I love you, Sophyra. More than my life, more than the world, or at least I thought so last night. I was willing to let Sayatan win because I hurt too much to live without you. I did not think I could live without you. I still do not think I can. No matter what Telantes says. No matter the promises I make. If you die again, I think I will, too.”

“But I cannot die now,” she said, her brows furrowed in confusion.

“Only a Daitya can kill you. Like Kardag. They can kill you.”

“And you?”

He shook his head. “No. I am Sainika. For you, death by a Daitya’s hand would be permanent, but for me it is like any other. That is why I came back after Kardag poisoned me. You would not have.”

“Then there is only one solution,” she said with a smile.

“What is that?”

“You must teach me to fight. I do not want to be so vulnerable that you cannot do what needs to be done.” She leaned forward and kissed him. “Just promise me one thing.”

“Anything, my heart.”

“Do not ever shut me out again. Talk to me if something is bothering you.”

He nodded soberly. “I promise.” He kissed her soundly and then stood up, pulling her to her feet. He finished getting undressed and then climbed into the tub. He tried to pick up the soap, but she got to it first.

“Let me,” she said with a smile, and he relaxed as she began to clean him. Her hands were soft on his skin, but he could still feel the snakelike movement of her worry.

"What is wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said as she rinsed his back.

“Something is wrong. I can feel it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can feel people’s emotions, Sophyra, and I know you are worried about something.”

“Really? And what does worry feel like?” Her tone was light, but the slithering feeling increased.

“Like a snake sliding around my body. It is not pleasant.”

“What else can you feel?”

“Right now or any time?”

“Any time.”

He sighed. “Fear is itchy, like a woolen blanket. Hatred and anger are hot, like standing in front of an open furnace or next to a blacksmith’s forge. Evil is like rancid oil being dumped over my head or an uncontrollable itch in my brain.”

“Those are all negative emotions,” she said. “Can you not feel positive ones as well?”

“Of course I can. Love is like my mother’s arms holding me close. Passion is heat, not burning like hatred, but more like a hot summer day. Gratitude is like a soft breeze.” He looked into her eyes. “So, what are you worried about?”

Her violet eyes flared briefly. “You. I am worried that you are blaming yourself for things you had no control over.”

He was clean, so he reached for the towel. She handed it to him, and he stood up, stepped out of the tub, and wrapped it around his waist.

“I am to blame, Sophyra. I was stupid, selfish, and cruel.”

She put her hands on his bare chest. “That is true,” she said and smiled when he frowned down at her. “You were, but it has all worked out just fine, Ga’briyel. Let the blame and guilt go. You made some mistakes, but no real harm came from them.”

He leaned down and kissed her. “I suppose you are right, my heart.” Then he smiled. “I told you I could not live without you.”

“Do not joke about that,” she said, her smile slipping. “If something should happen to me, Yisu forbid, you have to go on. The world depends on you.”

“I know that,” he said more harshly than he intended. He spun away from her and moved to his saddlebags. “I am really getting tired of people reminding me.”As he got dressed, he could feel her anger building.“And now you are mad at me,” he grumbled, pulling on his boots.

“Yes, I am,” she snapped. “You said you were being selfish, but that does not even cover it! Yisu has chosen you to save the world, Ga’briyel, and you are whining about it like a little boy who does not want to learn his lessons!”

He turned toward her as he said, “You have no idea what it is like! I am only twenty-one years old, Sophyra! I do not know what I am doing! I do not know where to go from here, I do not know how I am supposed to save the world, I do not know anything except how to fight!” He knew he was shouting at her, but he could not stop. “You have no right to judge me for not wanting this!”

Her eyes shone brightly, and he would have known that it was anger that made them do so even had he not been able to feel it flowing off her in scorching waves. Her teeth were clenched, and her lips were pressed tightly together. She glared at him for a moment, and then, without a word, she left the house. Immediately after the door slammed shut behind her, Ga’briyel’s own anger fled from him, and he sank to the floor and hugged his knees to his chest.

"What is wrong, Ga’briyel?” Dinton’s voice in the doorway did not even cause him to look up. ”Sophyra looked pretty upset just now.”

“She does not understand. You do not understand. No one does.”

His friend sat next to him on the floor. “Understand what?”

Ga’briyel shook his head and stared at the floor.

“Talk to me.”

Not looking at him, Ga’briyel said, “No one understands how scared I am.”

Dinton caught his breath. “Scared? Of what? Nothing can hurt you.”

"That is where you are wrong. I may not be able to die permanently, but I can be hurt. Physically and otherwise. I have had thirteen deaths, Dinton, and I remember each and every one of them. And all of them were horrendously painful except the lightning strike. But none of them hurt half as much as when I thought I would have to live without Sophyra. That almost killed me. Permanently. I was going to throw myself on her pyre and die. I do not want to die again, and I know I will. But I am scared of losing one of you. That would be more painful than any death could be. And I am terrified that I will make some colossal mistake and the world will be destroyed because of it.”

Dinton rested his elbows on his knees. “You are usually so self-assured and confident that I often forget that you are younger than I am, my friend. But now, let me give you the wealth of my experience, being the elder of the two of us.” Ga’briyel gave a wry chuckle at that, but Dinton continued seriously. “Even had we stayed in Torkeln, there is no guarantee that one of us would not have fallen from a wall or died in a training accident. At least during this trip you met Sophyra and fell in love with her, and we did good for Grama and the villages of the plains, despite what some of the older boys here might think. There has always been a chance one of us could die. What makes it different now?”

“I do not know.”

“Well, I see no difference. And as for you making a world-ending mistake, I do not see that happening. Besides, Yisu stepped in to correct this mistake. What makes you think He will not do it again?”

“He will not,” Ga’briyel said. “I do not know how I know, but I do. The next stupid decision of mine could be fatal for a lot of people. Maybe for everyone.”

Dinton stood up and pulled the Anmah up with him. “That may be so, but you cannot expect to never make another mistake. After all,” he said with a smile, “you are still just a child.”

As Dinton had hoped, Ga’briyel smiled slightly. “I am. At least for an Anmah. And children do make mistakes every now and then. Rarely are they world-ending, though.”

“Tell you what,” Dinton said with a grin. “If I think you are making that kind of mistake, I will smack you and tell you to shape up. Agreed?”

Ga’briyel just nodded.

Dinton stepped back and cocked his head toward the door. “Come on. Everyone is waiting for you.”

“Who’s everyone?”

“The entire town, Ga’briyel. Except for a few boys, they all want to thank you.”

Ga’briyel groaned as he followed his friend outside. He supposed he would have to get used to this kind of attention, but he did not have to like it.