| "Seer," a voice reached gently into Seer's nightmares. Not a single night went by where she slept peacefully. "Awaken, young one." Seer opened her eyes, forcing them to focus on the softly luminescent face before her, leaning over her pile of blankets. Acharya smiled gently, and brushed strands of Seer's opal hair away from her eyes. "You Called for me. We must talk." Nodding, she groggily rose from her blankets and covered her bare, pale skin with robes the same color as her hair. She stepped past Kelnai's sleeping form, and followed the Acharya outside, far from the carts. Thick clouds drifting across the skies made the night seem bleaker than most, save for a soft glow emanating from the Acharya's skin. There was not a single person in this world that even remotely resembled the Acharya. Few males were as tall as he, and even fewer men – if you could truly classify the Acharya as such - of this world wore their beards in the same style - short, just covering his chin. The hair on top of his head was short and spike-like from years of exposure to the Jihann Magicks. Every strand was a different color, shimmering from the luminescence of Acharya's skin. He wore onyx coloured robes, and his eyes shone with a sapphiric brilliance. The only word to appropriately describe the Acharya was godlike. "Why did you Call for me?" Acharya spoke gently, walking slowly beside Seer. "There may be a problem arising with Kelnai," she said, ignoring the wet, sticky fluid on the grass beneath her bare feet. Seer was unsure of whether she truly wished to see the Mage dead. "I assumed this might come, eventually. At her Kevahrin blessing, she screamed as if she were being torn apart. No Mage in nearly fifteen hundred years has screamed like she. Perhaps she is too squeamish for the power she tries to wield." Acharya sighed sadly. "What is the problem with her?" "She avoids work," Seer said honestly. "She picks fights with Dharin, and I admit I do not aid the situation much, but I believe she may be too unstable for Cair’leih. Her willpower seems unable to resist the Jihann’s influence, and I fear she may fall ill soon." The Acharya nodded, placing a hand on Seer’s back as she stumbled. "What colour are her tears?" Concern touched his eyes, even for those who began to fall. The world knew that it was the Acharya’s job to protect his people, even the weak. "Close to the same red as her hair, and thick as spoiled Qu’elba. It amazes me that she can weep at all anymore." "Then her Jihann holds more power than she." Acharya turned to look at Seer, moving his hand from her back to the side of her face. "And you," he smiled. "What colour are your tears?" Seer laughed, taking a small step backward. "It has been so long since I have wept, I would not know." Though she shied from Acharya’s affection, she still smiled. "What concern is it of yours?" Acharya laughed softly. "Your strength nearly matches mine," he smiled proudly, empathetically. Part of him understood how difficult it was to wield so much power, how fierce the struggle for control could be. "You gave up so much to get where you are. You are the best pupil, my favourite -" He paused, choosing his words carefully. His eyes glowed brightly as the clouds cleared from the skies, and the starlight caught on his unnaturally blue irises. "You are the most powerful Mage, other than myself, that this world has ever seen. You have long since passed the point where most Magi lose themselves to their Jihann; most do not last five years beyond their Kevahrin blessing. You have lived ten years as the second most powerful force of this world. I do not wish to lose you, especially not to the slow, painful death of a lost Jihann Mage." Seer laughed, almost bitter. "Kelnai believes you are only using all of the Magi - using me." "Well," Acharya conceded, "I am. I use the Magi and the Trackers to keep the world relatively peaceful. I must use you, because you are the best that I have. If it were not you, it would be someone else. But I am glad that it is you, because I consider you a friend, Seer." He placed a hand on her shoulder, ignoring the look in her eyes as the visions came, and let his voice become more serious. "There is a connection between us, I believe. We are so much alike. A few more centuries, you could become a God." Seer shook her head weakly, sadly. "That is not what I want. It is not… me." She looked at the ground and crossed her arms over her chest, shivering though it wasn’t cold. "What is you, then?" Acharya’s voice became slightly mocking, but still gentle. "What do you want out of this life?” "I just wish to be able to die happy." She brought her eyes back up to the Acharya’s, seeing the near shock on his face. "Yes, I do wish to die. I admire you," she let herself almost smile. "I admire your strength, your determination, and all the power you wield. It has always awed me that I am privileged enough to stand next to the being that closed the Rift, but I do not have the strength to live as long as you have, not without -" she stopped herself, and her eyes glistened with unspent tears. Clear tears. "Without Dharin," Acharya nodded. "I understand. A life as long as mine would be incomprehensibly difficult to face alone. Any life is difficult without people to care about." "About whom do you care?" The question was curious, not cold. "Forgive me, I just-" "Worry not, I know you meant no offense. I have no wife, but I have an entire world to care for and protect from innumerable evils. Pupils like you, and a world that needs me - these justify my existence. If you care for Dharin, then tell him." "Do you believe that to be wise?" Her tears began falling as she looked up at the stars. The Acharya drew her to himself, hugging her consolingly. "I know you fear being hurt. This comes with being human. But he cares for you, as much as anyone on this plane will. That much is obvious." Acharya spoke softly. "Too much is uncertain in this world, and no matter how much I try to prevent it, I may lose you one day. It is possible that I may lose you tomorrow, and Dharin would never know how you felt. Do you see?" He let her go, and she dried her tears, nodding. There was a pause, and they both looked to the bright, pulsing lights in the heavens for guidance. "What should I do about Kelnai?" Seer finally broke the silence. "If you believe it is necessary, lay her to rest. As I said, the death of a lost Mage is a slow, painful one. Spare her from this, if you perceive it is coming." Seer’s eyes widened slightly as she swung her focus back to Acharya’s face. "You are giving me permission to kill one of the Jihann Magi?" Suddenly Seer imagined that one day she too might be perceived as lost, weak. Seeing her eyes widen, Acharya fought an amused smile. "It is a privilege that I have granted no other Mage in the history of the Jihann. I trust your judgement as I trust my own. And worry not about other Magi being granted this permission. None of the others are strong or stable enough to attempt it, let alone wise enough to deserve it." "But one day, I too might outlive my usefulness." Acharya embraced Seer again, briefly. "You believe I answer to any Mage’s Call? You are valuable, and I hold you in high esteem, Seer. I will do my best to ensure that no harm comes to you from the hands or hearts of other Magi." Seer nodded, and allowed herself to smile, briefly. The Acharya’s attention was focused some place far away. He mouthed a word Seer did not quite catch; perhaps it was a name. "I must leave you now. There are matters that demand my attention. Sleep well, Seer." The Acharya looked heavenward, and lifted his arms to the stars. Seer turned her back on his fading form, and returned to her blankets and a restless, sorrowful sleep. |