Chapter 22: Tales of Other Journeys

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"Who is he? He's not from our tribe," Kairi squeals, springing out from behind a tree to question Evenfall after she and Talfryn have parted.

"What do you mean 'he'?" Evenfall asks, "I was just out for a walk..."

"I saw you, Evie," her half-sister insist, rolling her eyes, "You were with a boy, and not one from our village. If he were, I'd recognize him. I know all the boys."

Evenfall smiles a little at that; Kairi is much sought after by the young males in their village, and she gives them all just enough encouragement to keep them dangling about her like fish on a line. But her sister's discovery of her affair with Talfryn is no laughing matter, the dragons enforce a harsh punishment on mortals who chance to see them in their true form. Or so Ico has warned her, Evenfall has never heard of an actual incident between the dragon and human kinds, not in her lifetime. And she intends to keep it that way.

"Kairi, this is serious," Evenfall says, grabbing her sister's shoulder for emphasis, "He's one of the fair folk, like me. And they prize their secrecy. So you must never tell anyone what you saw."

"You don't have to be so mean about it," Kairi pouts, pushing Evenfall's finger out of her face, "I won't tell anyone I promise." A wicked smile spreads across her face, and she bounces as they start walking back to the village, "But it's so exciting, you have a lover. I want to know everything about him."

Evenfall frowns. Kairi means no ill, but her secret is not safe with her sister. Their mother will have it out of her in no time, and even her mother is no exception to the dragons' laws. If she doesn't do something, her relationship with Talfryn will be the destruction of her mother's people.

"What are you doing?" Kairi asks the spell she's casting lifts Evenfall a few feet above the ground.

"I'm truly sorry, sister," Evenfall answers sadly.

The glamour Evenfall weaves wraps around Kairi, takes hold of her mind, makes her forget.

"Why are we in the woods, at night?" Kairi asks after Evenfall lands back on her feet, her glamour completed.

"We went out to watch the stars," Evenfall tells her, "But you fell asleep."

"Of course," Kairi answers, confused. Then she laughs, "I should have just stayed in bed. Why do I let you talk me into these things?"

"Let's get back before anyone knows we were gone," Evenfall says, taking her sister's hand. Making Kairi forget the events of the evening was a simple enough glamour, but it takes its toll on Evenfall's conscience. It isn't right, she thinks, to take someone's memory, to play with their mind. Her father would disagree she's sure, and Ico would point out that she probably saved a lot of lives with this spell. That's why she did it, but it doesn't make her feel any better about it.

Time has changed Uvie and Ardax both, adding gray to their hair, wrinkles to their skin. They had two children together, raised them to near adulkthood.

"Kvornan is ready," Ardax says of their son, "I've worked with him, prepared him, and he's eaager to take his place as a spirit talker."

Uvie nods, knowing this was coming soon. Kvornan is much like his father, drawn to serve the tribe, a kind healer and a deep thinker.

"But he has your magic," Ardax says, almot as though he heard Uvie's thoughts. Sometimes she thinks he does, the way he responds to her moods and unspoken desires. "The first journey into the spirit realm is always dangerous, but your gift..."

He doesn't have to finish the thought, Uvie knows what he fears. She's told him about her own journey to the spirit realm, the only one she's ever made, how she acquired Auberon's heart, and the magic that became hers when she swallowed it. And she told him how the spirit realm endangered Auberon's life, how it choked him, made him weak, and how she's feared ever going back there herself, with Auberon's essence inside her. "Our children have the fae magic, from me," she says, "And that may endanger them in the spirit realm as well. Let me speak to Auberon; perhaps he can tell us of the danger they face."

Much time has passed since she last sought out her fairy lover. As her love for Ardax blossomed and deepened, her love for Auberon faded. Yet seeing him always rekindled that flame, and she ever felt the guilt of the betrayer when she'd visit him, even in this unreal realm of the dream.

Uvie laughs as she sees her smooth skin and dark hair, untouched by age. This truly is a dream, she thinks, and wonders if her youthful appearance is by Auberon's preference or her own.

"You are ever as I remember you, here," Auberon answers her unasked question, "You have come to see me. What do you need?"

Flowers fall from the skies like a gentle rain here in the realm of Auberon's dreaming. Uvie sits before the ancient fairy, once her lover and always beloved, though they have parted ways, the bond they share can never truly be broken. He is part of her, his heart is inside her. And that is why she's here.

"I've come to speak of the day I swallowed your heart," she says. He winces slightly, remembering the pain, "Because I have a piece of you inside me, I have not entered the spirit realm since that day. As you had told me, my children also carry your magic. My son is coming of age, and is preparing to make his first spirit journey..."

"You fear that that part of me which lives inside you, and in your children, will not be able to withstand the journey," Auberon says. "You fear that these spirits of yours will sense my magic inside your son, and try to take it from him as your mother tried to take it from you."

Uvie nods, crying as she remembers her mother and how she died.

Auberon pulls her close, resting his head on her shoulder, "My little love," he sighs, "Your kind and mine, we look much alike, and yet we are so different. The fae are magic, it is our essence, our being, and we cannot exist without it. Mortal beings like your people are life, that is your essence. And this world we share is made of both life and magic, and sustains us both. Your spirit realm is devoid of that magic, and it is no place for fae. But you, and your children, are mortal, despite having a bit of my magic within you, and have life's energy which will allow you to exist in your spirit realm, where I cannot."

"You think the spirits covet your magic, then?" Uvie wonders. When she'd captured Ico, Aven had said it was the spirits that told her to take her heart and eat it, to take her power.

"Your mother was wrong," Auberon says, "We fae are all different. My heart jewel was my own creation. Ico's power lies in her waters. I would not tell even you how to draw it from her, but your mother would have gained nothing by killing her and taking her heart. As for what these spirits want from us, or from you, I cannot say. I have never seen them, never heard of them before your kind came into these lands. But fear not, little love, you have taught your son and prepared him for the dangers he will face, have you not? The powr you have passed to him might attract peril, but it will also serve to protect him."

"The journey is different for each of us," Ardax says as he lays the bowl of haoma paste before his son, "The spirit realm has many sides and many forms. As you grow more practiced, more familiar with the realm, you can choose your point of entry. But where you enter on your first journey is up to chance, and the spirits."

"And I will meet my spirit guide there?" Kvornan asks.

"That is what usually happens. But you are different, you carry the magic of the fair folk, like your mother. It may be that there will be no spirit to guide you, and it may be that some sprits will be hostile, and try to take that magic from you. So, you must be alert, above all, wary of tricks."

"I am ready," Kvornan says, and takes the spirit paste from the bowl, and eats.

His father told him of barren wastes, snowy tundras, fertile meadows and dense woods, the corners of the spirit realm he had visited. He had told him of the spirits he'd met, ravens, horses, wolves, falcons. Never had he spoken of huts or humans, and yet this is what Kvornan finds when he first enters the spirit realm. He's inside what must be a very large hut, made of stone, watching a man drag a woman by the hair across the floor.

Both the man and the woman seem to look right at him but, but do not see him. The woman struggles to free herself, the man continues to drag her forward. The journey may be different for every spirit talker, but Kvornan is quite sure his journey falls far out of the realm of what anyone has ever experienced. None of his father's tales of his own journeys and the tales of other journeys passed down from spirit talker to spirit talker have ever involved anything in human form, no structures built of human hands. 

"You will bow to the Watcher, witch," the man snarls, throwing the woman to her knees in front of a decorated, carved stone. His voice, like his appearance, is other worldly. They don't appear to be made of flesh, but if they are spirits, they are not the kind Kvornan was taught about.

Kvornan noticed the small movements she made while huddled on her knees, watched her preparation, but the man is taken by surprise when she rises up to attack him.

The advantage surprise gave her does not last, however, and the man quickly regains the upper hand, holding a knife to her throat.

One swift slice, and it's over. The woman falls lifeless to the floor, and the man walks away, barely looking back at the death he delivered. Kvornan's healer's instinct sends him rushing to her aid, but there is no body here for him to heal, even if he could mend such a wound. Almost invisible, it's hard to see her features, but kneeling so close to her lifeless form, Kvornan looks ate her face, and thinks she resembles his mother, resembles himself. What is his place, and who are these people? he wonders.