| Seer sat on the ground beneath a huge marble pillar - a remnant of the religion from the lost world. She stared at her stars, singing softly. Her voice echoed eerily as she went through the pitches of the sad, slow Mage Song called Moldenahkar - Clearing the Mind. Her senses were on edge as she hugged her knees, rocking slowly. She heard footfalls behind her, but didn’t need to identify them. "Mal’kenar," Dharin spoke softly, using her real name. "We need to talk." The thought occurred to the Seer that Children of the Moon were masters of understatement. Her song stopped, and the air fell suddenly still. She breathed softly, and nodded once. "I wanted to give you time to think, to accept all of what I have said. My past, before the Magi, before you…" She paused, looking up into his eyes. "I said I have no regrets, but I lied." She believed to the core of her being that knowing the Tracker next to her had caused her to become a better person. Dharin sat down next to her, leaning his back against the massive pillar. "It isn’t your past that concerns me, not really. Why didn’t you say anything about the Jihann?" "I didn’t know,” she admitted. "I found out only a year ago, when I questioned the Acharya about my robes. They always changed colour where they had touched my skin. Then he explained about the Jihann taking over, and how all Magi die - how I will die." "I will not stand by and allow you to die like that. I won’t let you turn to stone, and crumble with time," Dharin promised. "I swear by these stars," he flicked his eyes heavenward, "I will not let your death be painful." "Dharin," Seer began sadly, placing a hand on his knee. "Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Do not set yourself up to be hurt." "It would seem that is all I have done since I was born," Dharin countered more harshly than he meant to. "My parents, Kelnai, you…" He sighed. "Sometimes it seems as if hurt is all my ‘stars’ hold for me." "Your parents? What happened to them?" Seer had always assumed that Dharin’s childhood had been relatively normal. He certainly was. "They died in a resistance when I was young, and I was sent to Shanra to begin training as a Tracker." The night was still again. Dharin looked at Seer’s hand resting on his knee, afraid to take it, afraid to move it - afraid. "There has to be something more than just hurt," Seer whispered. "There has to be something better." She caught a glimpse of a light in the back of her mind, golden like a bright sun – not the dying sun of this world. "You’re suddenly an optimist." Dharin didn’t mean it to sound so cold. "I’ve had time to think," Seer took her hand from his knee. "Recent events have opened my eyes," she shuddered, remembering her mother’s voice. "Made me into the Seer I am supposed to be. I am not immortal, or invincible - I am dispensible and replaceable. If I died tomorrow, I cannot think of a single thing I have done that I am completely and honestly proud of. I want to believe that this is going to be a world where there can be more than just hurt, especially for you." "If I let you go, I get hurt. If you leave and I follow, I’ll lose one of my best friends, and hurt. If I ask you to stay because I’m selfish, you die. There is no way to win in this world. All our choices inevitably end in pain." He laughed briefly, desperately. "Then we can find other choices. Dharin," Seer spoke with a hint of desperation. "I hate what I am here, I loathe this power, these dreams, and these visions." She began rocking herself again. "I would take them away if I could." Insects chirped uneasily, most likely wondering if it was safe to be in this covered valley again. "You don’t want them," Seer promised. "You couldn’t take them, and if you could would immediately regret it. The Rite would take years to learn, a misplaced inflection would rip you to shreds." "There is a way?" Dharin became suddenly more attentive. "Did you hear anything I just said?" Seer demanded sadly. "It would kill you," she spoke slowly to emphasize the importance of that statement. "Your nerves would liquefy from the amount of Cair’leih running rampant through you. You would never be able to control it, your voice could never hold the pitch, and you would die, painfully." Dharin had always had extreme difficulty mastering the most basic of Defense Rites for Trackers; he was nearly tone-deaf. "Why does pitch matter?" Dharin blinked at the stars sullenly. "That is simply the way it is, the way it has always been. Almost all Magi are female. The male Mage that travels with us, Corridan, is one of only fifteen male Magi. You and Jenya can assist with a few Rites, but your voices could never perfect the Magi Songs." Seer winced and stared off to her left as a new vision showed her the pain of wars past, fought here. Massive brutes made of metal exploding, a man known as the Leader killing parents and children by burning them alive – atrocities that the Acharya had forbidden even for the demons from the Rift. "I want to take the pain away, Seer." Dharin got no response from Seer. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Mal’kenar?" "You cannot take it away, Dharin. No matter how pure your intentions, you would not succeed. It is always here," she pointed to her heart sadly. "It always has to be. I do not deserve to live a painless life, and I…" she fell silent for an instant. "I once loved being a Mage, feeling more power racing through my veins than twenty Magi could ever hope to sense. And now that power lust is killing me, inside and out. I loathe what I am becoming, a creature that takes such pleasure in death and fear," she grimaced, remembering the delight with which she had watched Kelnai weep those viscous tears. "I hate what I am, but it may be too late for me to learn to become anything else." Dharin nodded, struggling to accept the shaking of all he had believed in. The woman he’d loved for years was neither invincible nor immortal; she was dying. "If it is killing you, then we will leave," he whispered. "Perhaps your family didn’t deserve to die," he didn’t honestly believe that. A family that took its frustrations out on a child with such sickly glee deserved worse than death. "But neither do you. Doubt what you will, but never doubt your right to live." There was a long silence, and all was peacefully still. After a few moments, the insects began to sing, keeping tune with the breathing of the two Cleansers choosing their paths. Seer raised her voice to the night again, the words of Moldenahkar echoing softly, reverberating through the souls of all beings present. Dharin nodded in time with the Magi Song, understanding the words without understanding anything at all. He closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the sadness behind the necessity of this Rite. Seer - Mal’kenar was, for all her power, as helpless and lost as he was. Their stars had fallen away, hiding behind dark clouds that gathered over their heads, and were offering no guidance. A tear came to Dharin’s eye, hearing Mal’kenar reject loneliness with such melancholy passion. Her song lasted only a couple of minutes but, keeping his eyes closed, Dharin felt as if he’d been given eons to examine the actions he’d taken in his life, and where they had led him. Mal’kenar’s song, however brief, gave him a priceless gift: the chance to analyze his choices, his motives, and his soul. That was the true purpose of the Rite of Moldenahkar, to allow the Mage singing and those around her, to determine who they truly were, and what they honestly wished to be. The Rite stopped. Seer breathed softly, and stood up. "We should leave the Cleansers soon." The insects fell silent. Dharin stood somberly, and looked to the sky. Slowly, the clouds fell away, and the stars twinkled their approval. Dharin put his arm around Mal’kenar’s shoulders. They walked back slowly to their carts, each deciding how to face their pasts, and their future but comforted by the feeling that they were no longer utterly alone. |