The Guardians of the Forest: Book Two by Kelly Napoli
CHAPTER 48
RESPONSIBILITY
Kiethara leaned against the nearest tree, breathing heavily. Her entire torso throbbed, along with her head. A wave of exhaustion washed over her.
She refused to look in Markii’s direction. She did not want to see the body that lied at his feet. A burnt smell filled her nostrils, making her stomach churn. It was all she could do to keep from retching on the forest floor.
She heard Markii’s footsteps. He paused a foot away from her. She refused to look up at him, preferring instead to stare at his boots, partly because she feared glancing at the dead body if she moved her eyes, partly because she did not want him to see her pale features. She was supposed to be stronger than him.
“How hurt are you?” he suddenly asked.
Reflexively, she looked up. There was no change in his features, which, surprisingly, was slightly mollifying. At least he did not care if she was weak.
“Fine,” she managed.
Markii scrutinized her. “Anything broken?”
“No, only bruised,” she reassured him. They were already beginning to show. “And you?”
Markii shook his head. “The cut was too shallow to do any real damage.”
Kiethara looked at him doubtfully. She knew that she felt horrible, so shouldn’t he? It had been a grueling fight regardless of its outcome and, even though he seemed to be more stone than man, she felt the urge to please him. “I still think you should drink something. I can show you to my lake…”
“Later,” he said. “I need to take care of this body.”
Kiethara’s stomach rolled again at the thought. She could not imagine glancing at it without being sick, let alone “taking care of it.” She took a deep breath. “Should we bury it, or…?”
“I will take care of it,” he repeated with emphasis. “You need a drink more than I do. Go rest; I’ll handle it.”
Kiethara was far too tired to feel any wounded pride at his blunt words. And for some reason, she did not mind taking orders from Markii. There was no faster way to bring two people together than a battle for their lives and, now that she knew who he was, she did not think he talked in any other way. His orders came out uncaring, but she could feel that the intention behind them was concern.
“I’ll meet you back in the clearing with the hammock,” she said.
She did not wait for a response. Maybe she was being rude, for he had just saved her—in more ways than one—but a new impetus drove her. She blasted off the ground with all the force she could muster and flew at a speed that would humble even Gandador. She used her connection to guide her, deciding to fly with her eyes closed. The cool wind on her face eased the rocking of her stomach.
Finally, she reached the center of the forest.
“Aaron!” she cried, her voice shrill and demanding.
A light filled the clearing, but she was once again derailed by how dull it was. Only as bright as the light of the sun that came muffled from a cloud.
She pushed the thought from her mind. She could not deal with Aaron’s anger and have a conversation with him.
“Kiethara,” he said as he appeared. She stifled a gasp. He was light enough that she could make out the shapes of the trees behind him. Once again, she had to push her burning curiosity to the back of her mind.
“Explain. Now.”
“His name is Swallin, as he told you. He uses—or used—magic in ways that Gandador has not even begun to touch.”
“Those illusions…what are they?”
“It is a manipulation of darker magic that even I had never heard off. Swallin discovered it by accident himself. He had a hard past; a dead father and a mother who expected too much from him. His mother was just as arrogant and immature as he was, and when she died too…Swallin snapped. He hated his mother, but he couldn’t face himself to deal with her absence. He tried to use his powers to bring her back, and that’s what led to the illusions. He went years thinking the image he had created of his mother was actually her.”
Kiethara didn’t bother asking him how he knew all this. “How does it work, though? What emotion triggers that?”
“Malice, bitterness. Mix that with rage and grief, and you have a whole new feeling. A new power. He can revisit these emotions so easily that they hardly take him any focus at all anymore, just like your shield, Kiethara. You weren’t ready for Gandador when you first saw him, but he created a fear in you that gave you what you needed, but not one that you were likely to forget.”
“Is that the secret behind our skills?” she said, laughing without humor. “A tragic past?”
“I suppose that’s what you could call it. But it’s not always a curse. Take your mother, for example. Happiness and love were her constant companions. There wasn’t a guardian, not even you, I’m sorry to say, who created potions better than she did. She had the right emotion for it, and it became so natural to her, like flying. She created exotic flower after exotic flower, concocting new potions every time. Your silver potion was actually discovered by your mother.”
“Really?” Kiethara glanced down at her vine belt. Her surprise simmered into annoyance when she was reminded of her empty bottle that held the very liquid they were discussing.
“Yes,” Aaron said in a voice that told her that his thoughts were in the past. “Magic has changed. Magic is changing. Every guardian is different, every emotion unique. No two people ever feel the exact same way for the exact same reasons. This is making magic much more complex than it ever has been before.”
Kiethara pursed her lips and drifted towards the guardian’s lake. She stuck her bare feet into the glistening water, wiggling her toes as it cooled her flesh immediately.
“How did I beat him?” she asked. “So fast…?”
“Markii,” he answered simply. “Swallin had made up his plan involving you, and only you. It looked as though it would have been air-tight; he certainly seems to be one to go over the details to perfection. If you had been by yourself, it would not have turned out nearly as well as it had this time.”
“As well as it had? I burned the man alive,” she shuddered.
“You had reason to,” Aaron said gently. “And you were angry. No one can blame you.”
“Angry? My hands burst into flames when I’m angry. Those were no little flames.”
“Kiethara, you are still getting used to your connection and the excess amount of power that comes with it. You are going to have some stronger reactions than you would normally expect. Time and practice are the only answers.”
Kiethara stared hard at the water, watching the surface ripple as she moved her feet. “If Markii had not been there…I would have let him burn.”
“Having an aversion to killing is not something to be ashamed of. Markii is strong, yes, but you never know what he is hiding so desperately under the surface.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to be like him,” she mumbled. “No emotion, no weakness. Do you see how intimidating he is? Imagine me walking up to Gandador like that…”
“Kiethara, the entire basis of your being resides in your emotions. I bid you luck if you attempt such tactics.”
Kiethara allowed herself a quick smile. “I’m tired of Gandador reading my face all the time, though.”
“It’s either that or trying to fight him without any magic at all. Why else do you think Markii doesn’t use magic? His tribe does, all except for him. He’s incredibly distant from the rest of the tribe. Well, except for Durga.”
This time Kiethara could not help herself. “How in the world do you know all this?”
“I’m dead, Kiethara, and the dead hear far more than the living. Not to mention my power and position in the forest.”
Kiethara swirled her fingers in the water, pondering Aaron’s words. Under what seemed to be an explanation, she sensed that there was something else concealed, something exclusive. “That answer needs more explaining.”
“That will be explained at a different time. Too soon, Kiethara,” he said. She r
epressed a scowl.
Where her newly found patience was coming from, she had no idea. She was too occupied with appreciating the peace around her. The water soothed her skin and the quiet atmosphere soothed her thoughts, which bounced around in her skull like a million buzzing bees. She felt safe here with Aaron; his presence had always been a warm blanket to her, melting away each and every fear that she had for the moment. She had forgotten how much she really relied on him, how prominent he had always been to her, even when his advice got under her skin.
She could not find the will to get up. She did not want to leave the one blissful moment of her day so far. She did not enjoy the idea of accommodating Markii anymore, especially when she thought of him as “taking care of the body.” How could he look at it without tossing his innards as she had almost done?
“You are not a monster, Kiethara.”
“Maybe not,” she said. “But what kind of guardian am I if I can’t take care of my enemies?”
“One that doesn’t let the power get to her head,” he answered promptly. “Having a weakness can be seen as a blessing. Try to focus on what you did accomplish today. Not only did you utilize your connection, but you also excelled at the skills that required no magic at all. You used everything from your training, and that is very wise.”
“I don’t think we see eye to eye, Aaron. I should be using the skills that require magic more and more! Gandador—”
“Gandador,” he interrupted. “Is not the sole enemy of the forest. Someone out there still has that cursed jewel that you had the misfortune of encountering. So when you are forced to fight them without any power at all, you will be grateful that you spent longer practicing and using your sword than the water element.”
Her heart sunk at the idea of that necklace.
“But people use strong abilities that I don’t have!” she continued. “Gandador can create pain that can suffocate me, and he doesn’t even move a finger!”
“You were never promised that this would be easy, Kiethara. The trick with those abilities is that they take a lot of magic, too much for Gandador to afford. I cannot promise you that he won’t do it again, but if he does, Gandador won’t be able to keep it up for long. If he loses too much of his power too quickly, it would be more than easy for you to take him down. I don’t think he will risk that very often, if at all, again.”
“He did them before without a problem, I don’t see why he wouldn’t do it again,” she disagreed.
“He did them then because he didn’t fear you,” he said. “He did them because he believed that even with the loss of magic, you would still be an easy target to acquire. The last time he used it, he couldn’t hold on for long, and when you were able to continue fighting afterwards, it completely derailed his plan. Now that he knows that you are strong enough to withstand it, he cannot afford to drain his powers in such a way again.”
“Ah.” Aaron’s words finally clicked in her head. And she had to admit, sometimes his unfailing logic and ability to know more than he should made her feel a little better. He knew just how to sooth her worries or calm her fears, irrational or not.
Well, most of them.
“So even if these extra abilities they all have don’t help them very much, I’m still not able to kill him,” she admitted, looking up at Aaron.
Aaron sighed—a low, worn sound. She wondered if her question irked him.
“Kiethara, you are a beloved daughter to me, and a worthy descendant of my line, of my power. Being a guardian is a greater responsibility than anything else in this world and, unfortunately, it requires much. I loath asking this of you—you have no idea—but you have to kill him. There is no other option. I’m sorry.”
Kiethara never thought he could say yes, stop sniffling and kill the man in so many words. And yet…
She could not stop selfishly hoping that she wouldn’t have to do it. Like today, she had practically prayed that someone else would take the task from her hand. It was a horribly selfish whim. Anyone facing her father was surely facing death.
“Its fine, Aaron,” she sighed, pulling herself up out of the water. The good feeling vanished.
“You did well today, Kiethara,” he extolled. “You saved the forest.”
“I suppose,” she said tiredly. “But isn’t that included in the ‘great responsibility?’”
Aaron chuckled. “Yes, it definitely is.”
“That’s what I thought,” Kiethara said, turning her back to Aaron to hide a small smile.
“Take it easy and enjoy the rest of your day,” Aaron said in farewell. Kiethara looked up at the sky. The sun was still high above them. Could it really be only noon?
“Thank you,” she whispered to the now empty clearing. With Aaron’s absence came the same sense of dread that haunted her daily now, churning her stomach just as easily as the thought of a dead body, picking up the wind around her. Stray leaves and strands of her hair were pulled away in its grasp, whisking through the crystal clear air of the forest. She kicked off the ground and headed towards her clearing.
Markii was not there yet and she tried not to focus too hard on that fact. Instead, she plopped down on the emerald green grass and waved her hand over it. Strawberries spread quickly, staining the grass with their luscious red.
What if Markii didn’t like strawberries? Frowning at that possibility, she looked up at the tree above her. Apples and oranges bloomed off the branches and, with a tug of the wind, they fell all around her. There, he had to like at least one of those. Maybe she should grow potatoes, too…They were not her favorite, but they could be his.
Her worries were cut short as he entered the clearing. There was absolutely no change in his appearance, except for a sheathed sword and a little more dirt on his boots.
She looked up at his tall figure as he stopped in front of her. “Hungry?”
He looked down at her. His expression remained intense, but he seemed to be contemplating sitting on the forest floor. Well, it was not as if she had a chair to offer him. It was the ground or a tree.
He did sit, finally, leaning against the other tree that supported her hammock. He grabbed an orange and started peeling it.
They ate in silence for a moment; the morning’s events had made them both exhausted and hungry. It was not exactly uncomfortable, but Kiethara had something she wanted to say.
“I’m sorry this happened,” she said. “You probably didn’t come here expecting a battle.”
“No,” he said.
She fidgeted. His response had not really given her all that much to say.
“So why…exactly…did you come here?”
“Durga,” he answered curtly. “She is too weak to travel, but she worries about you. I came here to ease her worries and assist you in any way I could.”
Kiethara was momentarily touched by such kindness. Her heart ached at the thought of Durga fretting about her, like the mother she never had.
“Is Durga ill?” she asked fearfully.
“A bit,” he said. “She’s not as fast or as strong as she was. Age, eventually, takes its toll on willpower.”
Although Markii’s voice was as emotionless as the rest of him, she almost imagined his words to hint at admiration. Aaron was right; there was something between Durga and Markii that consisted of more than an old woman who had a young man protecting her.
“I’m sorry,” Kiethara whispered. “If there is anything I can do—”
Kiethara gasped. There was something she could do! Thank goodness she remembered it…
Reaching down, she unhooked the glass bottle filled with a deep, golden liquid from her vine belt. She had never used this potion before. She hadn’t even made it…
A seven year old Kiethara sat cross-legged in the center of the forest. A brighter Spirit of Aaron stood over her.
“Kiethara,” he had started. “I need to give you something.”
She had looked up at him in confusion. “Okay…?”
“Every guardian has
been equipped with this and, when the time came where they needed it, it came to be a great help,” he bent down so their faces were almost level. Her navy blue eyes were wide. “But you need to take good care of it.”
She nodded vigorously.
“I trust you,” he continued. “So I’m giving it to you know, even though much guardians don’t carry it at your age.”
“What is it?” she had demanded, bouncing and eager.
Aaron chuckled and then held out the item in question.
Little Kiethara had squealed in delight at the vine belt he held. She grabbed it and pulled it around her waist, fumbling to tie the abnormally thick and strong vines. She jumped up from her sitting position, and the belt slipped right off of her and onto the ground around her feet.
Aaron bent down and picked it up, tying it around her waist himself. “Now, this isn’t just some forest finery you get to wear. It will never die, wither, or break.”
She nodded. “But why do I need it?”
“To hold this,” he said, holding out a glass bottle. Golden liquid swirled inside it, as though he had been able to bottle precious metal. Her eyes had grown even wider.
Aaron tucked the bottle in between the twisting vines. He fidgeted it a couple times to make sure it wouldn’t fall off, and then he stood up.
“Keep that safe.” he warned her. “It’s a potion. Eventually, you will start making your own potions, but for now, keep this one safe. It is extremely difficult to make and should not be used unless necessary.”
“Yes, Aaron,” she promised. “But what does it do?”
“It heals any serious or fatal illness,” he had explained. “You will get sick, but if you ever get an illness that threatens your life, you must use it. A guardian cannot afford to be bed ridden.”
Kiethara’s face fell. “Is that all?”
Aaron chuckled. “I’m afraid so. Have a good day, Kiethara…”
Little seven-year-old Kiethara had waddled off into the rest of the forest, now accompanied with a new and powerful companion.
RESPONSIBILITY
Kiethara leaned against the nearest tree, breathing heavily. Her entire torso throbbed, along with her head. A wave of exhaustion washed over her.
She refused to look in Markii’s direction. She did not want to see the body that lied at his feet. A burnt smell filled her nostrils, making her stomach churn. It was all she could do to keep from retching on the forest floor.
She heard Markii’s footsteps. He paused a foot away from her. She refused to look up at him, preferring instead to stare at his boots, partly because she feared glancing at the dead body if she moved her eyes, partly because she did not want him to see her pale features. She was supposed to be stronger than him.
“How hurt are you?” he suddenly asked.
Reflexively, she looked up. There was no change in his features, which, surprisingly, was slightly mollifying. At least he did not care if she was weak.
“Fine,” she managed.
Markii scrutinized her. “Anything broken?”
“No, only bruised,” she reassured him. They were already beginning to show. “And you?”
Markii shook his head. “The cut was too shallow to do any real damage.”
Kiethara looked at him doubtfully. She knew that she felt horrible, so shouldn’t he? It had been a grueling fight regardless of its outcome and, even though he seemed to be more stone than man, she felt the urge to please him. “I still think you should drink something. I can show you to my lake…”
“Later,” he said. “I need to take care of this body.”
Kiethara’s stomach rolled again at the thought. She could not imagine glancing at it without being sick, let alone “taking care of it.” She took a deep breath. “Should we bury it, or…?”
“I will take care of it,” he repeated with emphasis. “You need a drink more than I do. Go rest; I’ll handle it.”
Kiethara was far too tired to feel any wounded pride at his blunt words. And for some reason, she did not mind taking orders from Markii. There was no faster way to bring two people together than a battle for their lives and, now that she knew who he was, she did not think he talked in any other way. His orders came out uncaring, but she could feel that the intention behind them was concern.
“I’ll meet you back in the clearing with the hammock,” she said.
She did not wait for a response. Maybe she was being rude, for he had just saved her—in more ways than one—but a new impetus drove her. She blasted off the ground with all the force she could muster and flew at a speed that would humble even Gandador. She used her connection to guide her, deciding to fly with her eyes closed. The cool wind on her face eased the rocking of her stomach.
Finally, she reached the center of the forest.
“Aaron!” she cried, her voice shrill and demanding.
A light filled the clearing, but she was once again derailed by how dull it was. Only as bright as the light of the sun that came muffled from a cloud.
She pushed the thought from her mind. She could not deal with Aaron’s anger and have a conversation with him.
“Kiethara,” he said as he appeared. She stifled a gasp. He was light enough that she could make out the shapes of the trees behind him. Once again, she had to push her burning curiosity to the back of her mind.
“Explain. Now.”
“His name is Swallin, as he told you. He uses—or used—magic in ways that Gandador has not even begun to touch.”
“Those illusions…what are they?”
“It is a manipulation of darker magic that even I had never heard off. Swallin discovered it by accident himself. He had a hard past; a dead father and a mother who expected too much from him. His mother was just as arrogant and immature as he was, and when she died too…Swallin snapped. He hated his mother, but he couldn’t face himself to deal with her absence. He tried to use his powers to bring her back, and that’s what led to the illusions. He went years thinking the image he had created of his mother was actually her.”
Kiethara didn’t bother asking him how he knew all this. “How does it work, though? What emotion triggers that?”
“Malice, bitterness. Mix that with rage and grief, and you have a whole new feeling. A new power. He can revisit these emotions so easily that they hardly take him any focus at all anymore, just like your shield, Kiethara. You weren’t ready for Gandador when you first saw him, but he created a fear in you that gave you what you needed, but not one that you were likely to forget.”
“Is that the secret behind our skills?” she said, laughing without humor. “A tragic past?”
“I suppose that’s what you could call it. But it’s not always a curse. Take your mother, for example. Happiness and love were her constant companions. There wasn’t a guardian, not even you, I’m sorry to say, who created potions better than she did. She had the right emotion for it, and it became so natural to her, like flying. She created exotic flower after exotic flower, concocting new potions every time. Your silver potion was actually discovered by your mother.”
“Really?” Kiethara glanced down at her vine belt. Her surprise simmered into annoyance when she was reminded of her empty bottle that held the very liquid they were discussing.
“Yes,” Aaron said in a voice that told her that his thoughts were in the past. “Magic has changed. Magic is changing. Every guardian is different, every emotion unique. No two people ever feel the exact same way for the exact same reasons. This is making magic much more complex than it ever has been before.”
Kiethara pursed her lips and drifted towards the guardian’s lake. She stuck her bare feet into the glistening water, wiggling her toes as it cooled her flesh immediately.
“How did I beat him?” she asked. “So fast…?”
“Markii,” he answered simply. “Swallin had made up his plan involving you, and only you. It looked as though it would have been air-tight; he certainly seems to be one to go over the details to perfection. If you had been by yourself, it would not have turned out nearly as well as it had this time.”
“As well as it had? I burned the man alive,” she shuddered.
“You had reason to,” Aaron said gently. “And you were angry. No one can blame you.”
“Angry? My hands burst into flames when I’m angry. Those were no little flames.”
“Kiethara, you are still getting used to your connection and the excess amount of power that comes with it. You are going to have some stronger reactions than you would normally expect. Time and practice are the only answers.”
Kiethara stared hard at the water, watching the surface ripple as she moved her feet. “If Markii had not been there…I would have let him burn.”
“Having an aversion to killing is not something to be ashamed of. Markii is strong, yes, but you never know what he is hiding so desperately under the surface.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to be like him,” she mumbled. “No emotion, no weakness. Do you see how intimidating he is? Imagine me walking up to Gandador like that…”
“Kiethara, the entire basis of your being resides in your emotions. I bid you luck if you attempt such tactics.”
Kiethara allowed herself a quick smile. “I’m tired of Gandador reading my face all the time, though.”
“It’s either that or trying to fight him without any magic at all. Why else do you think Markii doesn’t use magic? His tribe does, all except for him. He’s incredibly distant from the rest of the tribe. Well, except for Durga.”
This time Kiethara could not help herself. “How in the world do you know all this?”
“I’m dead, Kiethara, and the dead hear far more than the living. Not to mention my power and position in the forest.”
Kiethara swirled her fingers in the water, pondering Aaron’s words. Under what seemed to be an explanation, she sensed that there was something else concealed, something exclusive. “That answer needs more explaining.”
“That will be explained at a different time. Too soon, Kiethara,” he said. She r
Where her newly found patience was coming from, she had no idea. She was too occupied with appreciating the peace around her. The water soothed her skin and the quiet atmosphere soothed her thoughts, which bounced around in her skull like a million buzzing bees. She felt safe here with Aaron; his presence had always been a warm blanket to her, melting away each and every fear that she had for the moment. She had forgotten how much she really relied on him, how prominent he had always been to her, even when his advice got under her skin.
She could not find the will to get up. She did not want to leave the one blissful moment of her day so far. She did not enjoy the idea of accommodating Markii anymore, especially when she thought of him as “taking care of the body.” How could he look at it without tossing his innards as she had almost done?
“You are not a monster, Kiethara.”
“Maybe not,” she said. “But what kind of guardian am I if I can’t take care of my enemies?”
“One that doesn’t let the power get to her head,” he answered promptly. “Having a weakness can be seen as a blessing. Try to focus on what you did accomplish today. Not only did you utilize your connection, but you also excelled at the skills that required no magic at all. You used everything from your training, and that is very wise.”
“I don’t think we see eye to eye, Aaron. I should be using the skills that require magic more and more! Gandador—”
“Gandador,” he interrupted. “Is not the sole enemy of the forest. Someone out there still has that cursed jewel that you had the misfortune of encountering. So when you are forced to fight them without any power at all, you will be grateful that you spent longer practicing and using your sword than the water element.”
Her heart sunk at the idea of that necklace.
“But people use strong abilities that I don’t have!” she continued. “Gandador can create pain that can suffocate me, and he doesn’t even move a finger!”
“You were never promised that this would be easy, Kiethara. The trick with those abilities is that they take a lot of magic, too much for Gandador to afford. I cannot promise you that he won’t do it again, but if he does, Gandador won’t be able to keep it up for long. If he loses too much of his power too quickly, it would be more than easy for you to take him down. I don’t think he will risk that very often, if at all, again.”
“He did them before without a problem, I don’t see why he wouldn’t do it again,” she disagreed.
“He did them then because he didn’t fear you,” he said. “He did them because he believed that even with the loss of magic, you would still be an easy target to acquire. The last time he used it, he couldn’t hold on for long, and when you were able to continue fighting afterwards, it completely derailed his plan. Now that he knows that you are strong enough to withstand it, he cannot afford to drain his powers in such a way again.”
“Ah.” Aaron’s words finally clicked in her head. And she had to admit, sometimes his unfailing logic and ability to know more than he should made her feel a little better. He knew just how to sooth her worries or calm her fears, irrational or not.
Well, most of them.
“So even if these extra abilities they all have don’t help them very much, I’m still not able to kill him,” she admitted, looking up at Aaron.
Aaron sighed—a low, worn sound. She wondered if her question irked him.
“Kiethara, you are a beloved daughter to me, and a worthy descendant of my line, of my power. Being a guardian is a greater responsibility than anything else in this world and, unfortunately, it requires much. I loath asking this of you—you have no idea—but you have to kill him. There is no other option. I’m sorry.”
Kiethara never thought he could say yes, stop sniffling and kill the man in so many words. And yet…
She could not stop selfishly hoping that she wouldn’t have to do it. Like today, she had practically prayed that someone else would take the task from her hand. It was a horribly selfish whim. Anyone facing her father was surely facing death.
“Its fine, Aaron,” she sighed, pulling herself up out of the water. The good feeling vanished.
“You did well today, Kiethara,” he extolled. “You saved the forest.”
“I suppose,” she said tiredly. “But isn’t that included in the ‘great responsibility?’”
Aaron chuckled. “Yes, it definitely is.”
“That’s what I thought,” Kiethara said, turning her back to Aaron to hide a small smile.
“Take it easy and enjoy the rest of your day,” Aaron said in farewell. Kiethara looked up at the sky. The sun was still high above them. Could it really be only noon?
“Thank you,” she whispered to the now empty clearing. With Aaron’s absence came the same sense of dread that haunted her daily now, churning her stomach just as easily as the thought of a dead body, picking up the wind around her. Stray leaves and strands of her hair were pulled away in its grasp, whisking through the crystal clear air of the forest. She kicked off the ground and headed towards her clearing.
Markii was not there yet and she tried not to focus too hard on that fact. Instead, she plopped down on the emerald green grass and waved her hand over it. Strawberries spread quickly, staining the grass with their luscious red.
What if Markii didn’t like strawberries? Frowning at that possibility, she looked up at the tree above her. Apples and oranges bloomed off the branches and, with a tug of the wind, they fell all around her. There, he had to like at least one of those. Maybe she should grow potatoes, too…They were not her favorite, but they could be his.
Her worries were cut short as he entered the clearing. There was absolutely no change in his appearance, except for a sheathed sword and a little more dirt on his boots.
She looked up at his tall figure as he stopped in front of her. “Hungry?”
He looked down at her. His expression remained intense, but he seemed to be contemplating sitting on the forest floor. Well, it was not as if she had a chair to offer him. It was the ground or a tree.
He did sit, finally, leaning against the other tree that supported her hammock. He grabbed an orange and started peeling it.
They ate in silence for a moment; the morning’s events had made them both exhausted and hungry. It was not exactly uncomfortable, but Kiethara had something she wanted to say.
“I’m sorry this happened,” she said. “You probably didn’t come here expecting a battle.”
“No,” he said.
She fidgeted. His response had not really given her all that much to say.
“So why…exactly…did you come here?”
“Durga,” he answered curtly. “She is too weak to travel, but she worries about you. I came here to ease her worries and assist you in any way I could.”
Kiethara was momentarily touched by such kindness. Her heart ached at the thought of Durga fretting about her, like the mother she never had.
“Is Durga ill?” she asked fearfully.
“A bit,” he said. “She’s not as fast or as strong as she was. Age, eventually, takes its toll on willpower.”
Although Markii’s voice was as emotionless as the rest of him, she almost imagined his words to hint at admiration. Aaron was right; there was something between Durga and Markii that consisted of more than an old woman who had a young man protecting her.
“I’m sorry,” Kiethara whispered. “If there is anything I can do—”
Kiethara gasped. There was something she could do! Thank goodness she remembered it…
Reaching down, she unhooked the glass bottle filled with a deep, golden liquid from her vine belt. She had never used this potion before. She hadn’t even made it…
A seven year old Kiethara sat cross-legged in the center of the forest. A brighter Spirit of Aaron stood over her.
“Kiethara,” he had started. “I need to give you something.”
She had looked up at him in confusion. “Okay…?”
“Every guardian has
She nodded vigorously.
“I trust you,” he continued. “So I’m giving it to you know, even though much guardians don’t carry it at your age.”
“What is it?” she had demanded, bouncing and eager.
Aaron chuckled and then held out the item in question.
Little Kiethara had squealed in delight at the vine belt he held. She grabbed it and pulled it around her waist, fumbling to tie the abnormally thick and strong vines. She jumped up from her sitting position, and the belt slipped right off of her and onto the ground around her feet.
Aaron bent down and picked it up, tying it around her waist himself. “Now, this isn’t just some forest finery you get to wear. It will never die, wither, or break.”
She nodded. “But why do I need it?”
“To hold this,” he said, holding out a glass bottle. Golden liquid swirled inside it, as though he had been able to bottle precious metal. Her eyes had grown even wider.
Aaron tucked the bottle in between the twisting vines. He fidgeted it a couple times to make sure it wouldn’t fall off, and then he stood up.
“Keep that safe.” he warned her. “It’s a potion. Eventually, you will start making your own potions, but for now, keep this one safe. It is extremely difficult to make and should not be used unless necessary.”
“Yes, Aaron,” she promised. “But what does it do?”
“It heals any serious or fatal illness,” he had explained. “You will get sick, but if you ever get an illness that threatens your life, you must use it. A guardian cannot afford to be bed ridden.”
Kiethara’s face fell. “Is that all?”
Aaron chuckled. “I’m afraid so. Have a good day, Kiethara…”
Little seven-year-old Kiethara had waddled off into the rest of the forest, now accompanied with a new and powerful companion.