Chapter Difficult Lesson, A Split of Will, And a Messenger
Palliza was in her garden when he rode up on an okapi that Camilla had graciously let him borrow. Jrash had only spent a brief hour at the inn, explaining that there was some urgency. The woman was still withdrawn from the bizarre circumstances surrounding the loss of her maid, and acquiesced with minimal urging.
His grandmother did not glance up as she grasped a root vegetable and pulled it up, brushing it off to set aside in the wicker basket by her side.
He stood awkwardly for a moment, holding Ramoth in his arms. As he opened his mouth, she spoke quietly.
“Did she take a life to gain that size?”
Jrash sucked in his breath and tensed, feeling Ramoth begin to tremble and try to shrink into his arms. His fingers stroked her fur, and let his breath out slowly.
“The Blight has returned. She did not take what was already gone.”
Palliza closed her eyes briefly. An elegant hand webbed in wrinkles swiped at the hair in her face, leaving behind a streak of dirt on her cheek.
When she opened her eyes to stare at the progeny of her direct line, they were hard and full of worry. He is barely sixteen. She thought. “The Protectora will not see things that way.”
A moment passed, and Jrash felt the last vestiges of his fortitude dissolve. “Palli- I don’t know what to doo-!” The last word was drawn out into a pitiful wail as he broke down into tears.
Palliza stood swiftly to embrace her grandson, enveloping both the boy and his Daroul turned Aya’Chin. The creature remained stiff at first, but eventually melded into the caring arms of the Holder of Bonds.
Palliza poured water over the tea in her grandson's cup. Ramoth crouched on a low shelf, wingtips trembling as she watched her movements.
“I cannot stop the Protectora.” The stately woman set the ceramic kettle down, and seated herself across from Jrash as he shakily put his hands around the cup.
“I cannot stop them, but I can delay them.” She put a hand to her face. “Our kin in the northern Callio archipelago need to know the Blight is back, and they can also protect you.”
Jrash sat immobile, his eyes fixed on the steam rising from his tea. He had not seen his cousins since the death of his parents. His Aya’Chyn made a churling noise, and Palliza turned to regard the creature.
“You changed your own shape using the lifeblood of the blighted. Have you attempted to work with my grandson as his Will?” The Aya’Daroul’s hackles rose.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
Palliza let out a loud sigh. Jrash flinched.
“I need you to attempt to use your Will for me, right now.” Jrash jerked his eyes up in surprise. Ramoth’s ears went back.
“Wha- What do I do?”
“Focus on your tea, and imagine the tea essence being drawn upward and out of the water.” He stared at her for a moment, then looked down at his cup again.
A long moment passed, and nothing happened.
Palliza glanced at the daroul, and noted that her grandson’s Will was baring its teeth in a rictus, the wings slowly extending. Ramoth’s fur stood on end and seemed to glow.
Yet still nothing happened.
Jrash’s brows drew down and he began to scowl. His face flushed and his Aya’Daroul began to growl.
Palliza threw up her hand. “Enough!”
He blinked rapidly. “What?”
The woman stood swiftly and crossed to the crouched creature, and before Ramoth could react, she lifted it by the scruff of the neck. The wings beat furiously and the paws scrambled in the air, but Palliza took two steps to the open window and tossed Ramoth outside.
There was an offended yowl that cut off as Palliza pulled the window shut. Black feathers drifted and then dissipated into smoke.
“Your Will is not your own. So you are experiencing complications…” She rested her head against the pane of glass, closing her eyes in frustration.
“That makes no sense!” Jrash scrubbed his hair with a hand. “Ramoth is an extension of my Will.” His grandmother threw her head back and laughed.
The woman whispered something to herself and Jrash caught “...like her.”
“There were many instances of the Will of a Drakun Magi being at odds. It was considered an illness, or a weakness of mind.” Her eyes squeezed shut, then opened to regard Jrash.
“In this case, I do not think… that the fault lies in you. The issue arises from bonding a daroul that has lived free for the Gods only know how long.”
He battled for a moment with his confusion. Then a darker look crossed his face. “Must I subjugate my own Will?”
“NO!”
Jrash rocked back, startled by her vehemence.
There was a scrabbling at the window and Palliza blew out a loud breath. “Do not try to bottle up the wildness, like a cork in one of those Sei’Um soda drinks.” Her wrinkled hands gently caressed the window as Ramoth bared her teeth opposite her, clawing at the pane to get inside.
“If you do… then… pop.” She slipped the catch while stepping aside.
Ramoth rocketed into the room, feathers and fur colliding with the table and upturning it and knocking everything to the floor. The vase that had been atop the table burst open in a shower of ceramic shards as it hit the floor. Palliza stared meaningfully at her grandson. Jrash covered his eyes and sobbed.
“What am I supposed to do?”
He is so very young. Palliza thought sadly.
He felt her hand on his shoulder, and the gentle squeeze was reassuring. He opened his eyes to watch her stoop down next to Ramoth, who lay huddled in a shivering ball of rigid fur and feathers.
Her fingers slowly reached down, and the daroul hissed softly. The woman ignored the hostility and gently stroked the side of the creature's head.
“You must learn to grow and bond with this daroul… to form a union of the opposing forces within your Will.” Ramoth nipped at her and she dropped her hand and sighed.
“Child, I cannot do this for you. But you must love yourself, and love your Will. Teach it to be an Aya’Chyn.” She held out her hand to Jrash, and drew him down next to her after he hesitantly took her hand.
“Breathe and calm yourself, draw in your breath a count of seven, hold for three, and then out for seven.” Jrash started the exercise and stuttered his breathing a few times before maintaining the rhythm.
Palliza drew his hand forward to touch Ramoth. “Now visualize Ramoth breathing with you.” She drew his hand down Ramoth’s back and it flinched violently.
As Jrash breathed and concentrated, his Aya’daroul visibly relaxed. But then…quietly…
I will not submit.
Palliza breathed out, about to admonish the stubborn creature- but Jrash spoke. “It's not about subjugation. Ramoth, I want to grow with you and do great things… please hear my thoughts and know it to be true…”
The Aya’Daroul stared into his eyes. She seemed taken aback by his words. Time seemed to stretch for them both. Ramoth closed her eyes and Jrash stroked her back.
Perhaps I will learn something from the child of the Holder of Bonds.
Jrash did not see his grandmother roll her eyes as she got up to set the room back to rights.
Several hundred miles away, an exhausted mounted messenger from Auscilla nearly collapsed from his okapi. The station aid assisted him down from his mount.
“What is so urgent that you nearly kill yourself and your mount!” The man held the messenger's shoulder and held back more words as he took in how pale the person's face was.
The messenger shook their head, and stammered, “Pro-protectora must know!” A soft gasp of breath followed. “Blight! In Auscilla!” The station aid gaped in disbelief.
The messenger covered their face, then looked up. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but everyone needs to know.”
“Yes, the Blight reemerging is-”
“NO- I’ve also been sent to report that there is a new Drakunmagi!”
The station aid blanched in fear.
“Let me get you onto the shuttle. You can rest in the sleeper cab and be in Temp’Allah before nightfall. The Protectora must know.”