He felt the heated bulk of the Rhawn jolt forward, led carefully by the determination of Father’s hand.

“I sure hope he knows where he’s going,” SoYa muttered, half to himself, half to the plume of white that tracked his breath in the cold air.

It felt as if the temperature had plummeted at least ten degrees with the last five steps the Apprentice had taken. Tall stone loomed far above his head, walls slick with the illusion of perpetual melting. It looked like someone had taken a white-hot sword and gutted the belly of the mountainside from end to end, and now they were proceeding down through the middle of this slice.

Footing was slick. It was all he and Father could do to ease Thorne down the slipping incline. The rhawn’s hooves clattered as they toiled, the sound amplified as it resounded back from the walls. The further down they went, the more the ground seemed to tilt, as if in attempt to funnel their party into the gaping maw of the Cleft below.

“Relax,” Father assured him. His own breath seemed to be more artistic somehow, fancy loops of white emerging from the hollow of the elder man’s collar. “There’s not many who can tread this Passage, but Kudako’s one of them.”

The sky had forgotten its color. The deep blues of the mild summer midday grew pale to the point of being clear. The plant life had long forsaken this area of stone, leaving the crown of the ravine baldly unadorned. Nowhere else had the Cleft been this inhospitable. Everything about it felt wrong. SoYa’s mind could feel the pressure closing in, like sinking underwater without breath.

And they were walking directly into the heart of it.

AsaHi gave a quiet yelp as she lost her footing, sliding down the incline past the struggling rhawn. SoYa’s first instinct was to release the reigns and reach for her. But Kudako was there in a reflex faster than the Apprentice’s eyes could follow, his big hand catching the back of her cloak, holding her fast. The girl stared back over her shoulder, breath coming in panicked whirls. Her scared green eyes reflected strangely under the colorless sky.

“Careful,” was all the Dragon told her.

Kudako seemed unaffected by the changes of the landscape, feet picking the path down the incline as if he had been there many times before. His ears stood perked, whole body a fluid stream of motion. His breath did not make patterns in the cold air.

The Dragon dutifully led them along the lip of the Cleft for a number of days before announcing they were nearing the Passage. Earlier that morning, they began securing all of their belongings under his supervision, Father stressing over and over the need to follow Kudako’s instructions to perfection.

SoYa thought it was against all common sense to put layers of heavy clothes on in the middle of warm weather. It was the nicest, clearest day they seen so far that summer. But the others followed the Dragon’s instructions. Even AsaHi, who shot Kudako’s back with a volley of skeptical looks as she wrapped a large red cloak over the top of her thick over-tunic. It hadn’t taken the group long to realize the wisdom of the Dragon’s commands. They all felt the unnatural chill seeping into their skin as Kudako led them to the Passage. The Breath of the Dead, Father called it.

The bottom of the incline was merciful. Rather than dumping them headlong, it flattened out into a small shelf of stone. Like the sky, the stone here lost its color, becoming a nauseous transparent hue. SoYa could feel his stomach clenching and unfolding as his frozen fingers clutched the reigns of the rhawn’s halter.

“Easy, Thorne. Easy there, we’ll have you over and on the other side before you know it,” Father was already fitting blinders over the creature’s slender head. His voice was coaxing, even to SoYa’s ears.

AsaHi crouched alarmingly close to the edge of the shelf, peering down into the mouth of the chasm below. She was a tiny speck of white and red against the vast backdrop of churning fog that rose from the Cleft and obscured the view of the other side.

If there is another side.

SoYa swallowed.

Father seems to believe that Kudako knows where he’s going. I don’t think there’s much of a choice at this point but to trust him.

“This is the Passage?” the girl glanced boldly down into the nothingness below. Her tone was level as she stated the obvious kink in the logic. “There’s no bridge or anything. How are we going to get across?”

“I will make the way,” Kudako informed her.

“Where do all the clouds come from?” AsaHi looked back at the three men, her slender hand detailing the wall of sickly fog that stood before them. Between them and their destination.

Clouds?  Only AsaHi could give it such a harmless name.

“The Breath,” Father said for the second time. Thankfully, this time, he left off the “dead” part.

“What is it?” the girl inquired, scooting back from the edge with a wary stare.

“It keeps things out of here. So nothing wanders across,” Kudako said simply, adjusting the strap of his pack without looking at her.

“Oh…” AsaHi didn’t look content with the insufficient answer.

“Truth is, we don’t really know what it is,” Father stepped in to cover for the Dragon’s lack of conversation. “This is the only point that the Breath occurs in the Cleft that we’ve observed. It is also the only point at which anyone can cross to the other side of the Cleft. So I doubt that it is a coincidence.”

Is anything coincidence when you’re dealing with the force of Lord Zemi?

SoYa had other questions on his mind. Namely, “So what does it do to ‘keep things out of here’?”

He almost imitated Kudako’s gruff demeanor with the repetition of the phrase. But he thought better of it and let the question lie in his own clear tone.

“Very cold. Can be toxic. Induces mind illusions,” the Dragon’s gold eyes fell heavily upon the Apprentice. His voice bit off each word with distaste.

For the first time, SoYa sensed that Kudako was the least enthusiastic of their group about making the cross into the Outterlands. He couldn’t help but wonder why.

“Toxic? Illusions?” AsaHi’s voice worried.

“Only if you breathe it too long,” Father reassured her. “And we don’t plan on hanging out here any longer than we have to.”

“Illusions come no matter what,” Kudako interrupted the gentle flow of the winged man’s words. His hand flicked out, dropping a strip of cloth at SoYa’s feet. Then one to AsaHi. “They come to anything that isn’t one of Lord Zemi’s kind. They are meant to induce fear and to cause the intruder to turn back.”

SoYa reached down and saw that the cloth was a blindfold. Something inside him welled, a feeling of insult.

Mind illusions? I should be able to fight those off, right?

“Blindfold?” AsaHi echoed his surprise.

Wouldn’t that prove to Father that I’m not weak? That I’m just as strong as TsuYa?

His thoughts made him bold enough to blurt, “I can handle this.”

“SoYa,” Father’s tone was stern. Plainly stating all in one word that the Apprentice could not handle it. That he would put the blindfold on, as instructed.

“Father, I can!” SoYa protested, trying to bend the steel of his father with watery words. “What’s the point in all the training you’ve put me through, otherwise?”

“SoYa,” Father said again. This time he followed it up. “There will be plenty of times to test your strength in the future. Now is not one of them.”

He’s still treating me like a child!

Kudako peered between father and son, a statue of silence.

Even after I’ve worked so hard in training. He won’t even acknowledge that I can hold my own yet!

SoYa’s fingers curled in the folds of the cloth. He could feel the heat of his flushed cheeks and the desire to push the argument further. But the soft weight of AsaHi’s gaze on him brought the Apprentice back to his senses. He watched as the girl silently unfolded her own cloth and strung it across her eyes, as an example to him. Even in obedience, the strength of her will did not seem to diminish.

The Apprentice’s shoulders drooped. “Yes, sir.”

Father’s expression was concerned despite the grudging obedience in the words. It looked as if he wanted to say something. But no words reached between them.

SoYa grit his teeth, turning his attention back to his rhawn.

“I’ll take care of Thorne’s crossing,” Father stated, with that uncanny way he had in sensing the unspoken. “You just hold on to the strap and don’t let go.”

Kudako knotted a slender bend of rope through the loop at his belt, wrapping the other end gently around one of AsaHi’s wrists. His voice was low as he knelt in front of her, checking to see if the girl’s blindfold was on properly. “Stay near me. I will lead you through.”

AsaHi dipped her head towards his voice, in the way that a blinded person nods.

No more words to waste. No more actions spared. Kudako turned and led the way towards the shelf’s edge. A hazy reflection of blue and gold walked under his feet, the red of AsaHi’s cloak trailing behind the procession.

“Father… what is he do–” SoYa protested, feeling a sudden uneasy jolt in the pit of his stomach.

“SoYa, put your blindfold on.”

But the Apprentice did not. His green eyes were fixed on the shapes making their way towards the looming maw of the Cleft. He felt his mouth parched dry with fear. Every inch of his being wanted to race out and pull AsaHi away from the drop. Only faith in his Father’s trust of the Dragon held him planted where he stood.

Kudako’s stride met the brink. The next one took him beyond where vaporous air churned. Nothingness.

And the nothingness ceased to be.

Utter shock swept through his body at the spectacle that painted out before them. Where there had only been air, Kudako’s boot made a print upon something solid. A soft, golden light seemed to spread from his form. It washed down around him, around AsaHi, illuminating a clear trail of solidity that had not been visible before.

SoYa couldn’t tell if it was a Passage created by magical means, rising to the whims of the Dragon Servant. Or if it was simply part of the stone, a transparent bridge across the void, not perceptible until cast in the right light. The Apprentice watched, still choked with the lingering after-effects of fear, listening to the soft patters of AsaHi’s footsteps growing more distant.

“Put your blindfold on,” Father repeated, urging Thorne forward. “We’ve got to cross now. Have to stay close to Kudako.”

Too stunned to argue, SoYa pulled the cloth over his face, obscuring his vision. The world became all sound and touch. He felt the heated bulk of the rhawn jolt forward, led carefully by the determination of Father’s hand.

Hedd-ynad!

At first, the Apprentice’s feet moved gingerly forward. The thought of being led across the yawning divide left his imagination running in frightened circles. Trusting his father as he did, his heart still beat in rapid patterns against his chest, reminding him constantly of the fate that lay far below.

“Relax, now,” his father’s voice was calm. SoYa couldn’t tell who the winged man was addressing. “Just a short walk and it will be behind us.”

Through the crack between his cheek and the blindfold, he could see a slit of golden light. His step faltered, knowing he was now on the impossible bridge. But no pause was allowed. He was led forward, grasping for the solid safety of Thorne’s side.

Relax…

The Apprentice held on to his father’s words, gathering his courage.

One foot. Next foot.

Step by step. The bridge was holding steady. They were moving forward. So far, they were safe.

“We’re nearing the Breath,” Kudako’s voice came from the other side of the darkness. A potent warning. “Stay together, we need to get through this as quickly as we can.”

“SoYa?” AsaHi’s voice. It sounded concerned, as if she needed to know that he was still out there somewhere.

“I’m okay,” he told her.

“Keep walking,” was Kudako’s reply.

Thorne clomped forward, the motion strangely heavy. The air grew suddenly bitter, even colder than it had been on the incline. The strip of light under the hem of SoYa’s blindfold dimmed, then faded completely. Instantly he missed it, not recognizing what little comfort it brought until it was gone.

~Father…~

Mindspeak. It came sudden, almost naturally. He didn’t want to alarm AsaHi with the fear that would have squelched from his spoken words.

-Keep moving, SoYa…-

The answer was distant. Distorted. It hardly felt like his father’s words.

Now there was only darkness seeping up from beneath the blindfold. SoYa could feel the motion of things drifting, brushing up against his arms and his legs. In his mind, he could sense it, the shadows of dead things walking next to him. His fingers were growing numb in the freeze. His mind began to blur, the pressure of dead air ripping at his lungs. He became unable to tell the lurch of Thorne from the passage of the shades.

A sudden snapping sound. The halter strap, having grown brittle in the cold, broke under the pressure of his hand. SoYa found himself set free to drift in the specter’s sea.

~Father!~ his mind shrieked as he stumbled forward blindly, reaching with both hands. Nothing but frozen air.  ~Father, wait! I can’t find you!~

A distant moaning rushed into his ears. It sounded diluted, full of sorrow, twisting around him in the cold, stagnant air.

“AsaHi?” SoYa’s voice was hoarse. His feet shuffled in the direction of the sound before pulling to a stop.

I can’t see a thing! I could go right over the edge and not even know it!

“Father!”

His breath ripped from his lungs. The Apprentice remembered what Kudako had said about the fog being toxic.

I can’t stay here!

He shuffled forward a few more steps, lost to the darkness of the blindfold.

But I can’t make it across if I can’t see!

“Father!” he shouted again, a frantic cry. The feeling of displaced motion swirled around him, as if the dead things were laughing at the futility of it all.

Hissing into the palms of his frozen hands to warm them, his fingers began to fumble. It was hard to separate the broken strap still twined around his hand from the cloth of the blindfold. Eventually, the Apprentice managed to wrench a finger under the flap and pull.

Vision unfolded around him as the cloth fell away. A churning mass of black cloud rose in vast pillars, blocking the view in every direction. But he could see the bridge at his feet, still glowing very faintly from the passage of the others.

There!

He saw no sign of the dead things that his mind sensed, as if peeling back the blindfold had vanquished the shapes. A thrill of victory rushed through him as he made his way forward on his own, blindfold dangling in one frozen hand.

I can do this!

The darkness began to part, slipping away as SoYa advanced, just as normal fog would. Determination rose within his chest, his footfalls becoming more certain upon the translucent bridge. He would find the rest of the party by his own means.

I told him I could handle it…

He wouldn’t cry out for his father’s help anymore.

“SoooYaaa?”

A shape began to take form in the shifting fog ahead of him. He heard the call of his name and saw the outline of wings. Instantly SoYa strode forward, knowing that he was missed and that Father turned back to look for him.

“I’m here! I’m okay!” the Apprentice shouted in return, a wave of relief rushing over him despite the triumph of his independence.

Wait till he sees…

“I told you I didn’t need to use the blindfo–”

The wings were the first thing SoYa saw. They unfolded like a living extension of the dark fog. These were not the gentle white of his father’s wings, they were blacker than the Breath that now reared up, billowing and crashing over the bridge in midnight waves.

SoYa choked, eyes widening as he fought to gain his composure. His vision blurred, the shadows shifting as the Apprentice’s mind scrabbled to focus. The rest of his body grew numb as the cold began to build around him, the only point of light left in the gale of black.

Marked!

The face. Pale grey with a sickly, unliving hue. Slitted eyes glittered, the only light a reflection upon the dark green orbs. A clawed-shaped mark was scrawled upon the side of its face, the lower left cheek. The hair was matted and black, like the wings–

Marked don’t have wings!

– the darkness broken by a thin shock of white hair, a bunched lock that hung down over one eye.

“SooooYaaa…” the voice, all too familiar. The grey face twisted into a dead grin with a manner of awareness that the other Marked had not possessed.

It did not advance any further. It did not need to. Mesmerized, image fit upon image, overlapping in SoYa’s mind.

“No,” a hoarse whisper came from between frozen lips. As he suddenly recognized the face, sickness welled up within the Apprentice’s stomach. He fought the revulsion that threatened to wrench him to his knees.

It’s not true!

The manner. The smirk. The voice, even distorted as it was.

This is just an illusion!

Blue robes. DuLlafn posed arrogantly in one hand.

This is just an illusion!

His brother. Taken… altered… one of the Marked!

Or… is it?

Within the moment of doubt, something within his mind gave. The vision grew, became overpowering. The Apprentice reeled, losing himself.

“TSUYA!!!!” a cry of horror ripped from SoYa’s throat.

Blindfold fluttering useless in one hand, he dropped to his knees and collapsed. The darkness rushed over him in a putrid swell from below.

~End Book Two~

A hoarse cry ripped from his lungs as one oily claw seized his neck.

It was raining down on the Mainland. SoYa found this fact puzzling because he had not expected it. It hadn’t been raining earlier in Ceiswyr.

Then again, it probably never rains up there. It must be one advantage of living in a city above the clouds.

Coming back to the ground was a strange sensation. He felt somehow more heavy-limbed and uncoordinated. Though he couldn’t understand why, back in the city, his mind had seemed more agile and light. He found himself missing it the moment he stepped foot on the ground.

There’s something about that place. It’s strange at first and takes time to adjust. But once you’ve been there for a while, it’s hard to come back down here.

A big splash of rain fell directly on his nose.

Not hard to understand why. It seems so dreadfully murky in comparison.

Then, it began to pour.

“Hedd-ynad!” the Apprentice jammed his cap down tightly over his ears. “We haven’t even been out here half a day and it’s already started raining on us. Isn’t that a sign of bad luck?”

“Luck is what you make it, SoYa,” Father smiled back over one shoulder. His wings were cupped over his head for protection. The rain slipped easily off the pristine feathers, never touching him.

“Superstition is for the simpleminded,” Kudako added gruffly. The Dragon’s steps were measured, falling softly upon the damp earth. Though he had no protection against the torrent from above, it didn’t bother him in the slightest.

AsaHi half-jogged to keep up with the grueling pace. She was the only one who thought to bring a hooded garment. Her green eyes peered out from under the shadows of the dull brown wool, face plainly speaking similar displeasure at the turn in the weather. SoYa wasn’t sure how the girl ended up traveling with them. Something very strange must have happened for Father and Kudako to both bend on the matter.

A rumble of thunder pealed over the sky, a deep threatening sound from the bellies of the low rolling clouds. Thorneblade balked, throwing back his head with a sharp snort.

“Come on,” SoYa coaxed the rhawn, fingers tightly gripping the halter’s lead. With a little struggling between the two, he managed to get the creature to continue down the rocky hillside. “I know you were never meant to be a packmule, but…”

He didn’t want to leave Thorne behind in the city. And as it turned out, it was much more convenient to bring the rhawn along to tote the supplies. They packed the poor creature with enough for what was expected to journey there and back.

It would have been so much easier if we all just rode.

That was his thought on the matter. But it didn’t happen.

There weren’t enough rhawn for all of them to ride, to start with. And secondly, there wasn’t a rhawn that was large enough for Kudako to mount. Not to mention that he sorely doubted the Dragon would ever let his pride stoop low enough to ride one of the “foul-fettered beasts.” Or so he called them.

It’s a wonder that he and Father get along so well. Everyone knows how much Father loves his rhawns.

It was the one and only thing that SoYa had been able to share with his father. Riding and grooming had been some of the best times that they spent together. TsuYa never had a love for the rhawn.

Tsu…

The Apprentice grimaced, trying to erase the memory of his brother’s pain-stricken face. TsuYa had been deeply hurt at the thought that Father would be leaving on such a sudden a journey, and that he could not join them.

It’s Lord Zemi’s orders, though. The only place Tsu can be protected is up in the city. Anywhere else, he runs the risk of being taken. And we can’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen no matter what.

The good-bye at the Gate that morning had been hard and taxing. SoYa could see that his father was just as reluctant to leave TsuYa. The winged man now held a constant expression of concern etched on his face.

Sometimes it hurt to see the attachment between TsuYa and Father, simply because they seemed to share a secret kind of bond. As much as SoYa was glad that Tsu’s heart was at ease, he couldn’t help wishing that their father might react the same way to himself.

I wonder if he would be doing the same thing… a journey all the way to the Outterlands. Would he be this concerned if it had been me nearly taken by Zerom instead of Tsu?

SoYa fixed his eyes on the gravely ground at his feet. Puddles were forming in the hollows. They were too murky to reflect anything but grey.

I shouldn’t think like that.

His soft green eyes flickered over towards the winged outline that strode purposely before him.

I shouldn’t, but I still do.

Thunder rolled through the valley once again.

Why they had taken a direct path into the hills of the mountains, SoYa couldn’t figure. This ground was much more rough to travel than if they had made a trek back out over the hills towards the plains. It seemed to eat up so much time.

The stones are bad on poor Thorne’s hooves, too.

Still, Kudako was their guide. He came from the Outterlands and knew how to get there. It was because of this that SoYa chose to keep his thoughts to himself. Like it or not, they were climbing through the hills.

Clouds of thick fog shifted down over the land. White ran in streams, lifting from the ground in a strange, hazy fascination. It poured down from the hillsides into the darkness of the hollow that dipped before their feet. Kudako’s ears flatted as their area of vision began to diminish. SoYa could feel Thorne growing restless and flighty under the firm touch of his hand.

“What’s wrong?” AsaHi whispered softly. She shot a nervous look back and forth between Kudako and Father. The silence pressed around them, devouring her words.

The Dragon gave a soft hiss, eyes narrowing into slits. It was obvious that something about the situation left him extremely uneasy. His words were straight and to the point, “We should not go through the ravine.”

Father paused, peering over at his friend. “Something down there that you know about and we don’t?”

“I am not sure. But I do not want to take that chance.”

“What’s the alternative?”

Kudako motioned towards the steep side of the small mountain that rose above their head.

“No way,” SoYa heard himself murmur.

“No way?” the Dragon gave the Apprentice a slow look.

SoYa straightened under the strange yellow-eyed stare. “It’s just that… Thorne… he won’t make it up something so sharp.”

“Which is why we should have left the smelly beast at home,” Kudako frowned.

“And who do you suppose would get to carry all the supplies for this trip, eh?” Father chided quietly. “It would make it much more difficult on us if we had to shoulder it on our backs.”

The warrior gave a low grunt.

“Any other alternative?”

“Not that I see.”

“Then I suppose we have to foot it through the chasm.”

“I do not like this,” Kudako’s voice grew in strength. “Visibility is next to none. It is a perfect setup for an ambush.”

SoYa shivered at the thought.

“Ambush?” the winged man scowled. “Who do you think is going to ambush us?”

“One can never tell, Zento,” the Dragon’s face was grave. “I doubt that the Marked that I fought earlier were the only ones.”

“But that was some days back,” AsaHi peeped.

“It does not matter,” Kudako answered. “Zerom knows that his hold on Tsu has been countered. But if he is smart, he will be expecting us to be doing exactly what we are doing right now. Likely, he has been waiting for us to leave the Ceiswyr all along.”

“You really think so?” SoYa squinted into the rain, his mind making frightening shapes from the scraggly trees in the distance.

“Look now,” Father interrupted quickly. “You’re scaring the kids. It’s not like there’s anything he can send after us that we can’t handle.”

As if on cue, a huge gust of wind flung past them, sending Thorne into a rearing fury. A haunting screech shattered, echoing off the stones from the darkness below. It was met and answered by a chorus of ghostly howls that rose then fell to silence from all around them.

“Spoke too soon,” the Dragon muttered, his weapon seeming to appear from nowhere. “Bringing us foul fortune as usual, Zento?”

“Hey, superstition is for the simpleminded, eh?” the winged man’s face had grown very serious. Pale light shimmered off the edge of his bhinod as he pulled it from his back.

AsaHi gave a frightened sound, clutching instantly at SoYa’s side.

“Wha… wha… what was that?” the Apprentice staggered back. He fought to gain control of the frightened rhawn and juggle AsaHi’s cling all at the same time.

“We are about to find out,” Kudako’s face was sharp and dangerous. He shook out the golden sheened bo-staff. The sections broke away into three pieces of sanbon nunchaku, each bound by heavy black chain.

Though frightened, SoYa reached across the packs on the rhawn’s back to retrieve his own staff. His fingers fumbled at the straps and he silently cursed himself for foolishly packing away his only weapon with the rest of the supplies.

Finally pulling it free, the Apprentice darted forward to the warriors’ side.

“SoYa!” Father’s voice was sharp. “Stay here!”

“But!” SoYa’s face contorted at the order.

“Watch over AsaHi and the supplies,” one finger thrust back to point at where AsaHi stood.

“I could help!” the Apprentice’s voice rose in frustration.

“That is helping,” Father was already making his way towards the crevice. His eyes flicked back over his shoulder once, voice crushing and firm, “And it would help even more if you stopped arguing and said ‘Yes sir’.”

SoYa shut his mouth with a click, “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” without another word, the winged man sprung forward into the shifting strands of haze. Kudako followed only a few leaps behind.

As the two of them vanished, SoYa’s grip on his staff tightened.

He still doesn’t trust me! Or maybe he doesn’t think I can handle it? Am I nothing but a child to him?

His knuckles grew white, hands trembling. He didn’t know if it was from fear or anger.

He might as well have just told me “Shut your mouth and do what you’re told!” I bet he would have let Tsu fight along side with him.

A soft touch brought him out of his dark thoughts. AsaHi’s hand was on his arm. Her fingers were shaking. Her face was pale and pleading. Her eyes round and luminous in the sallow light.

“SoYa,” her voice was hoarse. “Stay with me?”

The Apprentice swallowed. He could feel the resentment draining away almost instantly.

But it’s true… someone has to protect AsaHi. She looks so scared.

His gaze became more resolute as he nodded slowly, “I’m not going anywhere, so don’t worry. Okay?”

It was the first time in a long time that AsaHi looked at him with confidence and trust. The first time she turned to him for support. The first time that things felt just a little like they used to be…

I’ll prove to you that I can protect you, that I’m just as good as the rest of the big-shots around here. Even if you don’t believe in me anymore…

Sounds of battle rang from the darkness down below. He could hear the haunting cries of countless creatures as one after one fell. There was only silence from Kudako and Father — SoYa knew that during serious battle neither of them wasted breath on needless noise.

AsaHi’s expression became more and more horrified as the sounds lingered on, “Master Kudako was right. They were going to ambush us.”

“I don’t know. But, it looks like it,” SoYa’s voice was watery to his ears as he fought to keep the fear from showing on his face.

“Will they be alright?”

“Who? Father and Kudako?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sure. They’ve fought together for years, even before I was born.”

“So you know Master Kudako?” her words wavered. It was as if she was floundering to make conversation simply to push aside the pressing fear.

“Well, more or less,” SoYa frowned, shifting his weight from one foot to another. “He really doesn’t talk to too many other people than Father and Aunt SaRa.”

“I noticed…”

In a fit of tenseness, Thorne shook his mane out and gave a squeal. SoYa grasped the lead line with both hands trying to keep the rhawn from rearing up again. AsaHi stumbled back, not wanting to get in the way.

“Do you think he senses something?” her words were concerned.

“Yeah, the battle. He hears it just as well as we do, probably better.”

Thorne snorted, head jerking back hard on the lead. His squeals became more frantic as the sound of battle shifted in the ravine below. SoYa gritted his teeth, working with all his strength to keep the creature under control.

“Thorne! Now, calm down there, boy! Nothing’s going to–”

A low growl shifted through the air. AsaHi sidestepped straight into SoYa’s chest. The Apprentice startled, stumbling back as the two collided, hands slipping from the rhawn’s halter. With a wild scree, the creature swiveled around and bolted.

SoYa cried in horror, “Thorne, come back!”

AsaHi’s grip around his waist kept him from pursuing. A frightened whimper shivered through her body, her face turned away from the rising hills, “SoYa!”

His gaze darted up.

Three sets of black eyes glared down on them, all attention focused upon himself and AsaHi.

“Marked,” the girl whispered. She began backing away, holding so tightly to the Apprentice that she pulled him back with each shaky step.

These are the creatures Kudako was talking about. This is what Zerom is trying to turn Tsu into…

“I think… they were from Nefol, SoYa,” AsaHi’s face was ghostly white. “Look-see their clothing?”

“How can that be?” he choked.

A terrible sinking feeling rose in his heart as his mind slipped back to memories. Memories of the Council members who had mindlessly ringed TsuYa on the platform in the center of the school. The ones who had come at Aunt SaRa with glassy-eyed obedience.

“I don’t know… I don’t know… but it shouldn’t be this way!”

Anger flushed SoYa’s face.

Zerom…

One name that he had only known for such a short time. The one name that could be pointed to as the source of pain. For himself. For his brother. For the Apprentices that had once been his friends but were now…

“SoYa!” AsaHi’s screech broke through his thoughts.

The nearest creature leapt forward with speed so incredible that his eyes could hardly follow the motion.

“Run!” SoYa ducked back, jostling AsaHi out of the creature’s reach.

He could hear the sound of soft-padded footsteps echoing as the girl broke away at full speed. Terror gripped him as two of the dark shapes sprang from the rocks, darting after her on all fours.

Just as SoYa turned to follow, the weight of the first Marked bore down on him, slamming him on his back. A hoarse cry ripped from his lungs as one oily claw seized his neck. The other claw began tearing at his robe, ripping long shreds of cloth away. Fangs hissed warm, putrid breath into his face. The dead, black eyes reflected an image of SoYa’s horrified expression. The creature’s skin was so brittle and dry that grey patches stripped away as he wrestled to get out from under its weight.

He could distantly hear AsaHi’s scream echo his own.

No! AsaHi!

Desperation swelled within his chest, spreading through SoYa’s entire body with a sharp jolt. The pain was so intense that he nearly crumpled inward on himself. Sparks of light flew before his eyes. His mind contracted, then lashed out in a vast expansion of power. A shaft of pure rage channeled through him. It shattered the air with an enormous impact, ripping through the creature’s mind.

The Marked reeled back with a horrific cry. Its eyes misted over in a cold white color and began to bulge out ward from the building pressure within its head. Both claws left SoYa’s throat instantly. They flung up to rake frantically at its face, shredding patches of oily hair from its skull. Long trails of black ooze began to stream from its nose and ears.

With a firm kick, the Apprentice shoved the writhing creature away. SoYa scrambled backwards on his palms with a choking gasp. His hands shook as a retch heaved through his body. A murky puddle of darkness spread from where the Marked lay, crumpled and contorted. There was no motion left to its body, mirroring the sudden stillness of the mountainsides.

Silence had fallen in the ravine below.

SoYa forced himself to roll over on his stomach. His eyes flung across the distance as his voice rose in a hoarse croak, “AsaHi! Where are you!?”

The sound of a soft whimper drew his attention. Her pale, shimmering form was curled up into a frightened little ball next to the side of a stone outcropping. The two creatures that leapt for her were sprawled out on the ground a few feet away. The only motion was their final convulsions of death.

Their eyes were also cloudy white.

SoYa’s breath whistled between his dry lips. A terrible fear began to churn within his stomach. Pressing realization drew around him.

I… I did that… didn’t I?

AsaHi sat, arms crossed, watching the rift circle on small floating island. This was the spot she remembered appearing when they first entered the city of Ceiswyr. It was the only place she knew where people could return to the lands below.

I know you have to come back this way! I saw you and Zento leave… and I’ll be right here when you get back!

Her eyes narrowed.

Avoid me will you!

She hoisted herself into the swaying branches of the drooping feather tree next to the pond. Slowly, she swung her feet back and forth, taking small bites out of the buttery roll she had swiped from the kitchens when no one had been looking. Certainly no one would have wanted to see her sitting out there waiting on the Dreigiau for so long without food… thus, it was justified.

Dreigiau? Just look at me! I already think of him as the Dreigiau without question.

The girl watched ripples dance away from a straying leaf that had fallen into the pond. Her eyes squinted as she caught a change of light on the pond’s surface. The color of the sky had become a pale, hazy blue.

A pattern formed on the ground, one not unlike the runic engraving on the stone of the Rift Gate’s circle. As if being drawn by an invisible hand, the writing spread outward from the center. It traced gracefully up the trunks of the trees, under the surface of the water and across the grassy hills.

The girl hopped down from her perch, backing away as to not be caught inside the circle’s glow. She didn’t know what would happen if she passed over the lines. But one thing she had learned about magic, one never wanted to tempt it to find out.

As the blue light grew stronger, shapes appeared, standing inside of the circle. She only expected two of them to return — Zento and Kaze. Instead, a large group of people and two rhawn came through the Rift Gate. As their forms wavered and solidified, AsaHi crept forward, peering out from under the leaves.

Kaze stood there, cradling a winged figure gently within his arms. AsaHi could barely hear the soft words he spoke, the sounds shifting and dancing away from her mind just as they came to her ears. But all of that was lost upon her as she began to make out the features of…

Aunt SaRaYa!? What is she doing here? And why does she have…

She couldn’t help it. AsaHi was staring, face pale. Even though she had seen so many people with wings in the city, to see a familiar person so transformed was somehow overwhelming.

Aunt SaRa, too?

The older woman looked much worse for wear than the last time AsaHi had seen her. Her eyes were closed, face lined with exhaustion.

Zento stood next to them, hunched with the blue-robed body of another man over one shoulder. His face was taunt, making him look somehow older and more careworn than she remembered. The blue robes that the two men wore somehow contrasted, despite being the same color.

Daring to take a step out from her hiding place, everything around her shifted. AsaHi’s heart stopped cold in her chest. She hadn’t seen him standing there before, since he was was concealed on the other side of the rhawn’s bulk. Her eyes traced him over and over…

So…Ya?!

Something about him was different, but she couldn’t tell what. He certainly looked the same. Just a little splattered with the grime of a hard ride. The girl opened her mouth to speak as the light of the circle faded away. But no words came.

ZenToYa took a few wavering steps forward. His eyes turned gently to his son.

“Welcome to the city of Ceiswyr, SoYa,” the sound of pain cracked his tone. “I wanted you and Tsu to come here one day to be with me and your Aunt. But this was hardly the way I envisioned it happening.”

The man over Zento’s shoulder is… TsuYa?

Sudden concern gripped her.

What’s happened? Why do they all look like they’ve just been to the depths of the Lost Hills and back?

“AsaHi?!” that was the moment SoYa saw her.

She wanted to run out to greet him, hands flung wide until they fell around his neck in a soft embrace. But something about him was distant now. The way he looked at her gave her the feeling that he did not want to be touched.

What’s wrong with him?

AsaHi finally found her voice, “SoYa, are you okay?”

His reply was silence. The expression on his face was still soft, still gentle, but faded as if a great distance was put between them. He looked away, pretending to busy himself with the rhawn’s halter strap.

“Is that it? You’re not going to answer me?” she took another, more demanding step forward.

“AsaHi,” Kaze gave his familiar murmur.

The girl turned towards the big man. There was something wild about him, not unlike the first time they met. His eyes plainly spoke that there was more going on than she knew.

“Y-yes, Lord Zemi?” she heard herself stammer without meaning to.

The Dreigiau blanched, his voice watery as he forced the words out, “Will you please take SoYa to the guest quarters for a proper meal and bath? I would see to it myself except that the wounded need tending…”

“Of course,” AsaHi adverted her gaze.

She turned to SoYa and reached out her hand. Only a few weeks ago, he would have taken it and hugged her close. She yearned for that embrace more than anything as she felt the world of familiar strangers closing in around her. But it did not come.

She settled for merely motioning to him to follow her, “This way…”

The silence that rose in reply broke her heart.

The little girl slumped motionless over the back of the rhawn. She looked worse every time SoYa glanced up at her. Despite all the time that SaRa spent with the child in healing wraps and incantations, nothing seemed to be improving her situation.

No matter where we go, TsuYa will follow. And now that he’s taken up the robes of the High Guide, he has the Council of Nefol to support his actions. He could follow us into any town and simply demand our capture.

SoYa eased Thorne around a particularly steep pile of stone, weaving between the scraggly rock brush. Sweat stood on his brow under the rim of his cap. The climate in this area was a lot warmer than a mountain range should be.

After all, I am Athrylith. That, and Aunt SaRa’s wings, should be enough to turn people against us.

Aunt SaRa’s face was lined and grim, speaking measures of exhaustion and worry. Now and then, her head nodded, chin dipping to touch her chest.

“Are you okay?” he peered over one shoulder in concern.

“I’m…” the woman paused to catch her breath, “I’m fine. Just a tad tired. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

That’s true… we’ve been riding nearly non-stop. Not to mention every chance she gets, she’s been putting healing wards on the girl. It’s no wonder she’s about to pass out.

Then Aunt SaRa’s eyes turned to look along the path, hardening in determination, “Just a little further. Then we can all take a rest.”

She seems so certain. She claims a city is out here, yet, I haven’t seen roads or other people.

Just as the question passed through his mind, the sound of the rhawns’ hooves on the stone changed in pitch. Looking down, SoYa could see that the ground had leveled out into a wide hollowed area. The stone was perfectly round and inscribed with thousands of runes in a flowing, circular pattern.

The Apprentice couldn’t help but take a sharp hissing breath, “The Host Gate…”

“What was that, dear?” Aunt SaRa asked.

“This looks almost exactly like the…” SoYa stopped and craned his head back, eyes widening as they fixed upon the looming dragon statues above. He barked a proclamation, “It is!”

“Come on now, we’re almost there. I need you to stand in the circle, SoYa. Not much good in me leaving you here, now is there?”

“No, but…”

“If you really want to stay here, you can,” she gave him a droll face.

He scurried forward quickly, leading Thorne into the center of the circle.

“I thought not.”

SoYa watched in curiosity as the woman fitted blinders over the eyes of her steed.

“What are you doing?” he finally asked.

Aunt SaRa peered over at him, “In my experience, these Gates bother land creatures. I’d suggest you’d do the same for yours. They still won’t like it all too much, but it prevents them from leaving the circle. Or worse, halfway leaving the circle.”

“What happens then?” he asked in a wary tone.

“I doubt half a rhawn would be as useful as a whole one,” she answered in a conversational tone.

SoYa choked. Without further words, he slid the blinders over Thorne’s eyes.

Once that was done, Aunt SaRa gave a last long look around to see if all was in place. Then laying a steady hand on the girl’s leg, her eyes closed. Instantly the runes upon the stone floor leapt to life, shimmering a brilliant pale blue.

Hedd-ynad!! What sort of spell circle is this?

A chill of power rippled up through SoYa’s body from the earth. With an uncomfortable glance, he measured how far he was from the edge of the circle. Then, the Apprentice shuffled closer to his steed, weaving his fingers into the rhawn’s long black mane.

A momentary feeling of displacement churned through his stomach, forcing his eyes to squint shut. Though his feet did not leave the ground, his body grew lighter, until he felt as if he might float straight off the earth. As strange as it made his head feel, the sensation was not unpleasant.

Just as he felt ready to lift away, his whole body lurched. With a violent jerk downward, he felt himself dragged back. Eyes flipping open, he found himself still standing on the stony ground in the middle of the circle.

What?

Glancing over, he saw Aunt SaRa reel, then collapse against her white rhawn. A trickle of blood streamed from her forehead.

“Aunt SaRa!” he gave a choked cry, rushing to her side.

“You still call that thing our aunt?” a voice sneered from behind.

SoYa’s breath caught in his throat. His green eyes shifted to look at the blue-clad figure that stood just inside the crevice of the rocks. He recognized his brother instantly.

“Tsu!” he stammered. “What have you done to her?”

The man lifted his foot slowly from where the toe of his boot crossed the circle’s pattern. A sickly smile broke over his face, a smile that did not touch his dead-colored eyes.

“I’m sorry. It seems I broke her circle,” the chiding tone spoke anything but apology.

SoYa hissed, taking a step forward, “Haven’t you done enough damage? I can’t believe that you could-”

“Believe?” TsuYa snapped, taking a step forward in return. His face was wary, like a man approaching a snake. “Believe! I’m the one that can’t believe!”

“Tsu…”

“SoYa, my brother… the saint of saints… the good child…” a scowl accented the words. “All this time you were Athrylith!”

“Tsu, I swear to you,” he began to back away fearfully. “I didn’t hide it with evil intentions or use it to hurt anyone!”

“Oh, and I suppose what you did back at Nefol wasn’t hurting anyone? Over twenty of the Council, of which only four had halfway recovered when I left.”

SoYa’s grit his teeth, only a low groan escaping.

“For the love of Light, SoYa! If you weren’t guilty, why did you run? I have no choice but to take you back with me. For your sake. For my sake. For our father’s name!” TsuYa’s eyes suddenly lit with a deep shimmer of obsession.

The elder brother shook his head, caught between standing his ground and backing away. Any further would leave Aunt SaRa and the girl exposed. “It was Father that told me to keep it a secret!”

“You lie!”

“I do not! He knew! He knew and told me to never tell anyone… not even you!” the Athrylith snapped in return.

“Father would not allow a curse like you to thrive in Nefol!” TsuYa snarled.

“Obviously he didn’t think I was a curse!” SoYa retorted.

“Well, I do!” The sound of shifting metal revealed a cold, black curve of blade, reflecting darkly in the rising moonlight.

DuLlafn! Father’s old scythe! He took that along with the robes?

The curve of the long-hafted scythe leveled at SoYa’s head, a wicked intensity balanced upon TsuYa’s poise. Weaponless, the elder brother shifted backwards once more, both palms open in a pleading motion.

“Tsu… don’t…”

“Or what? What are you gonna do, brother?” his sneer came with a forward jab of the blade. “Will you take my mind, too?”

No… no… I couldn’t do that to you, Tsu.

The point of the scythe traced across the soft flesh of SoYa’s throat. Their eyes met, mirroring green on green. When TsuYa spoke next, the voice was not his own, “So weak… I gave you a chance to make the right choice. And all you did was run.”

SoYa’s breath caught sharply. His mind reeled back to the meeting in the forest, the thing that had looked and sounded like AsaHi, but had not been AsaHi at all. The voice had been the same as this. But as he stared into the distorted snarl in front of him, he knew that it was no trick this time — it was really his brother’s face.

A cold scoff gurgled TsuYa’s his throat, “You have so much power, but you are so weak. I could have given you these robes if you hadn’t resisted me. I could have given you all of Nefol if you weren’t such a fool.”

“You cannot give someone something they already own,” a strong voice rang out from above.

SoYa peered up at a silhouette perched on top of the coiled tail of one of the stone dragons. Even in the dim light, the eyes reflected brilliant, slitted green.

TsuYa wasn’t overjoyed with the appearance. “No one asked you! Just mind your own business.”

A deep-throated chuckle rang down from above, “My, my. Quite the confident one, aren’t we?”

It certainly doesn’t look as if he’s backup for Tsu. I wonder who…?

A snarl broke over the younger brother’s face, “I gave you a warning!”

“How kind. How about I give you a lesson in return?” an obvious grin was woven into the words.

SoYa’s eyes widened as the figure on the rock rose and stretched a pair of feathered wings into the starlit sky. With unimaginable speed, the shadow sprang, darting from rock to rock until it landed only feet away. Then one hand lifted in a practiced motion, followed by the sheen of metal as it flew, a curved blade attached to the end of a chain.

With a metallic ring, the blade swooped around, swinging wide of its target. Then with little show, it returned straight to the hand of the man who had thrown it.

He missed?

The smug look on TsuYa’s face spoke similar sentiments.

A glimmer of a grin crossed the stranger’s face as he fingered the chain. Eyes shifting down, SoYa realized…

The chain! He wrapped it around Tsu’s-

One quick jerk sent TsuYa reeling forward as his feet were swept from underneath him. With a surprised shout, the Apprentice fell face-first upon the stone. He managed to flip over on his back before the winged man sprang on him, pinning him to the ground with one foot.

The chained blade leveled at TsuYa’s nose. DuLlafn had fallen from his hand and lay out of reach. Frozen in fear, SoYa could only watch as the shadow towered over his brother, great wings extending wide in triumph.

“I thought your father would have taught you… sharp, pointy objects are not toys.”

A soft tingle fluttered through the Apprentice’s mind as the stranger leaned forward, withdrawing his weapon and lowering his face towards TsuYa’s. A shaft of light illuminated the silvery-white hair and familiar, laughing green eyes – a vision from his childhood that SoYa had not known for many years.

TsuYa choked, his face lined with disbelief.

“You could lose a hand to one of those, boy,” soft emotion shimmered in the winged man’s eyes.

“Fa…aaaaaather…?” TsuYa’s mouth opened, struggling to make the sound. As one hand lifted in longing, billowing darkness rose around his form. “Help me… please..!”

Their eyes locked. Their hands met. The air resounded with a sudden, silent impact. The boiling darkness gave a ghastly, rending screech. SoYa jumped back as the writhing shadows reeled away from his brother’s form and fled into the night on black wings. The screech echoed forebodingly from the growing twilight in the heavy sky.

Then TsuYa’s eyes fluttered and rolled back into his head as he fell limply into his father’s arms.

The young Apprentice turned to look at the wilted form of the girl slumping in the saddle in front of Aunt SaRa. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of her mouth and her breath came in rasping gasps, as if she was fighting for air.

His own concern rose in his reply, “They could be following us. Who knows how close. All they had to do is saddle up a few rhawns and they’d be on our trail in no time.”

“I know,” in a long graceful motion, the winged woman swung down from her mount’s back. Her expression was one of mystery. “But we have been traveling faster than your eye lets you believe.”

SoYa pursed his lips nervously.

“Besides, the rhawn need a break,” Aunt SaRa added lightly. “I know that your father taught you to treat your mount better than this.”

That’s true. I won’t see Thorne exhausted by my careless riding.

Weaving the reigns between his fingers, the Apprentice dismounted and ran one hand along the neck of his steed. Thorneblade had been a gift from his father.

If there was one love that the two shared, it was for the rhawn stallions. At an early age, SoYa learned how to ride and train the creatures. He knew their wild minds as well as their magnificent physical power and beauty. Next to the dragon-kin, the rhawn were by far the most noble creatures of the Inner Realms.

Aunt SaRa laid the girl out on her cloak. Other than a random soft-throated cry, the child made no sound the whole ride. Her face was flushed and feverish and SoYa could see that she had slipped into delirium.

The woman’s hands worked deftly, hovering inches above the broken remains of the girl’s bloody wings. A soft shimmer of white traced the outline of her palms. Her mouth moved with words of healing power, a rising and falling cadence of breath and light.

SoYa watched, keeping his distance. He knew about healing arts, however, the magic that the winged woman was casting was far beyond his scope. It made his eyes water to watch her, so he decided to stick to his own business and give the rhawn a good rubdown.

As the Apprentice’s hands ran along the flank of his steed, he fought against his wandering mind. Up until now, he had been so intent on simply getting the three of them away from the School that he didn’t have a chance to reflect on the dire consequences of their situation.

More than anything, his thoughts shied away from what he had done. He could still see the slack-jawed faces of the Council members, people that he knew since childhood, as he forced his will upon them. He could still hear the accusation in his brother’s voice as he uttered the single word that SoYa feared more than anything else.

Athrylith…

SoYa only ever used his power for small, harmless things. To trace the thought patterns of someone to find them over a distance. To sense the emotions of someone in grief to gain knowledge and lessen their pain. To help ease his brother off to sleep after a nightmare when he was a child.

Never had he taken control of another’s mind. This was not just one man, but over twenty all at once, and some were the most advanced magic users in Nefol. All immobilized. Just like that.

And what was worse…

After years of enduring the jeering and disappointed looks, after years of feeling last in his class, after years of failing in the eyes of Nefol, he had shown them all. Blown them all away. Left them standing in wide-eyed and open-mouthed awe.

And it felt so good.

How can you think like that?

SoYa removed his cap and ran his fingers through his hair.

How can you be proud of such a shameful display of power?

One part of him was elated that finally, after so many years, he was given the chance to show everyone that he was indeed the son of ZenToYa, a power to be reckoned with. Another part of him shunned the arrogance of such thinking. Yet another part was scared. By his own hand, he destroyed what little was left to his familiar life and became a hunted man.

AsaHi is gone. Aunt SaRa is some sort of who-knows-what. Father, whom I thought to be dead all these years, is somewhere still alive. And now TsuYa has gone absolutely mad… taking Father’s robes and control of the School to do some weird ritual.

He dropped his head forward.

And me, I’m not much better. Controlling the minds of other people with a power that shouldn’t even exist. And liking it!

A soft touch dropped on his shoulder. SoYa’s head jerked up, facing the figure of the winged woman. At first he wanted to pull away from her, a hissing whisper of loathing choking in his throat. Loathing for himself. Loathing for the now-changed form of his aunt, who was no longer what he always knew her to be.

Her hand tightened upon his shoulder. SoYa could feel it, once again, a parting of confusion replaced by clarity of mind.

The Apprentice blinked, shaking himself out, “What… what was that feeling?”

“He’s trying to take you, too.”

“Huh?” SoYa gave a questioning look. “Take me? Who?”

“The one that has taken Tsu’s mind,” Aunt SaRa gave a pained look. “I didn’t see it until it was too late. I’m so sorry.”

He waved his hands back and forth in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

The woman pursed her lips, a deep weariness wrinkling her brow. In that moment, she felt like the Aunt SaRa he had always known. “Do you think that Tsu would act this way of his own free will? Do you really think he would claim the position of High Guide like this?”

“I… don’t know,” SoYa admitted. “It always bugged him that I was the eldest and that I inherited the School. He never saw me fit for the position.”

“SoYa…”

“You can’t say it wasn’t true!” he protested, spilling out what had been unspoken all this time. “No one said it outright, but the feeling was there. Everyone thought I was weak and a disgrace to Father’s memory.”

“SoYa,” she said again, this time more firmly.

He looked away, finally answering her question, “No. It’s not like Tsu to do something like this.”

“Something has embedded itself in his mind,” Aunt SaRa spoke quietly. “I felt it for the first time when I confronted him today. I don’t know what it is, but I can tell you that TsuYa isn’t acting of his own will.”

The Apprentice jerked back from her touch, “He’s not that weak! Something can’t just come along and take control of him!”

“No, he’s not weak,” Aunt SaRa answered somberly. “But the darkness is just that powerful.”

“Isn’t there something, anything, we can do to help him?” SoYa swallowed.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “But I do know that the darkness wants you, too. And you can’t help Tsu if you allow yourself to be controlled. You must fight the thoughts and fear that rise in your heart. They are not of your own making.”

SoYa blinked up questioningly.

“I don’t even think that it was your impulse that led you to cast magic on those men,” Aunt SaRa gave him a long, quiet look. “It was not like you…”

“No,” he shook his head somberly. “That is my power, Aunt SaRa. I really am…”

“Athrylith?” she finished for him.

He nodded.

The woman sat stone-still, continuing to watch him.

“Do you… hate me?” SoYa finally asked, the silence growing too much for him.

“Of course not, SoYa,” she answered quietly, without a second of hesitation. Then she added, “I could ask you the same thing about my wings.”

The Apprentice took in a quick breath, studying her form. Her voice, her mannerisms, her gentleness… it was all the same as he remembered. Even with the wings.

“Do you think that I am the cursed creature your brother is forced to proclaim me to be?” she asked.

Their eyes met for a long moment. SoYa didn’t trust himself to answer.

“Everyone embraces their own secrets, SoYa. Some secrets are heavier to bear than others,” her voice came softly to his ears. “There will always be the frightened people who will shun what is different. But you have to go on loving those people, just the same.”

SoYa felt his chest tighten as Aunt SaRa uttered the words that his father used to speak.

“In the end, we are all nothing more than wanderers in the shadow of this world.”