The Kieran Chronicles

CHAPTER SIX: THE HOUND OF BALTHASAR

After eating, we napped for a while, and then went to a corner of the tent where we had eaten and slept. We sat in a circle, and wolfdogs moved in around us, seeking attention. I was getting used to the solicitation; it was vastly different than before my transformation.

And Cassandra, her hands neatly in her lap, along with the big headed dog that rested his chin on one knee, looked at me significantly. “Trust Momaru to put it around that the NalKuymal are going to kill anyone that even looks like a NalKuymal. I know it’s not so, so we need to take care of this soon."

I nodded. “What of the Lupin?” These were a race of sentient, sapient werewolves, who lived as a people now. They themselves hated werewolves, and were not magickal nor cursed any more. They, too, should be warned; the NalKuymal had a mutual assistance alliance with them, and they were always welcome on Pier Island. “They don’t deserve to be massacred,” I finished.

Skeohar sighed, nodding. “I can contact a cousin about this; it is an excellent idea.” Then he asked what we should do first.

Cassandra looked at him, and echoed his sigh. “We need someone who can look at Kai here, and identify the culprit. That means someone with both psychic and magical ability."

I thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know many people here, Cass. The only one I met is that red-handed wizard. Simeon."

Cass thought about it. “I know of him, but I don’t know him well, so I’m not sure” She looked again at Ski. “I know you don’t know many mages, but who do you know?"

The dark-skinned warrior seemed to consider it, and then he said, “What of your own children? They are adult enough, and one of them is both a “kedar” and a mage.” The word “kedar” essentially meant psychic, whether or not trained. There was another that referred to a psychic trained as a NalKuymal, like me, but Ski was not about to identify them as such without knowing it first. Not everyone trained, especially outside of Pier Island, or NalKuymal society

Cassandra looked at Skeohar, and then grinned. “You’re right; I never thought of it. Well, we’re right close to the old keep. We’ll go."

We spent that afternoon, post-nap, going from clan area to clan area, and asking who wanted to go “with me,” as it were, to seek out the mage or mages who had changed me. By the time we had gotten to the piers at the northern area of Pier Island, we had gathered a force of ten others who had nothing better to do, and had gotten together some supplies, for the trip to a castle keep along a river called the Mother, that Cassandra had had built, where she helped a man once called Danon the Wise, rule this world.

Ylda was a special place; it was a world peopled by visitors who traveled via portals, sometimes in caves, open, mist-covered fields, deserted places on the sea itself, or other places where people had been known to disappear. Ylda’s was special because almost all of them there had come from somewhere else, to wind up on Ylda. Ylda was unusual because of this.

And people had come from many other worlds: Cassandra’s “earth” being only one of them. They settled in, took up residence, and made this planet their home.

When Cassandra “landed” here, as she once said to me, her savvy and knowledge, along with her natural magical power, made her a force to be reckoned with. And as often happens with people who have magical or even temporal power (the latter because of her charisma and leadership). As she gathered followers, she ended up carving out a place for her own, which grew, and eventually, all people on the world where Per Eyas, the archipelago resides, swore fealty to her and her ideals.

Once it was known that Ylda, Danon’s world and Erandi, Cassandra’s, were joined by psychic ties, the two ended up good friends, as did their leaders. Cassandra ended up establishing a second keep on the world we were on right then, abutting Danon’s castle keep.

And who is Danon the Wise? That would take too long to tell, but suffice it to say that he, like Cassandra, was wise and a strategist, along with being insanely powerful. They say that Danon, after establishing a rulership to rival anyone’s, ended up ascending to a peak unheard of in general, and was invited by the gods themselves to live with them, as one himself.

I don’t know if that is true, but no one had seen Danon for many years. It could be, for it was known by many people that the gods were real, and that they had many humans as their friends.

Somewhere along the way, Cassandra had performed magic to give Danon the Wise children, and these called her their mother. I had heard of them and their abilities, but had never met them.

We hired a ship for our members, and sailed towards the mainland continent where Cassandra castle was. After that, we switched to a flat bottomed barge, to sail up the river that the keep was at, at the beginning of the river itself. On the way up, I got acquainted with each individual warrior who had decided to come along. So, by the time we had finished the three weeks necessary to sail from the archipelago to the main continent, I probably knew everyone, and nearly everyone knew who I was, who I had been, and what we were up to.

Ylda was civilized to a degree that was unequalled by most other worlds. There were roads we could see from our vantage points on the barge, and it all seemed as though these cities were millennia old.

The barge was larger than the average, and we were only a few, really. So we spent time above deck sparring, or fighting without intent to harm (for fun). I learned to use techniques I had not previously known. It was a lot of fun. I even learned why Cassandra is feared even among her peers … she is that good.

It took nearly two weeks to get to the river’s birthplace. Once there, the barge dropped us off, and then picked up more passengers, to head back down the river. And we looked out towards the city itself.

It spanned the river, connected by both bridge and by barges. We offloaded our equipment (not much, mostly personal), and went towards the mountain, where the two castles sat. They were connected, as I could see, by a very high bridge that looked, at once, beautiful and functional.

We went through the city, and then Cassandra led us towards the mountain. We were met by regular patrols, but they said little when they saw Cassandra. Once there, we made our way up.

This led us to the keep, which we entered. And I noticed that Cassandra employed many NalKuymal herself. And I also saw something else.

Some of these wore no clanpin. This could mean only one thing: some of these NalKuymal had been asked to leave their clans, or had decided to do that themselves. This second possibility was remote. I wondered how she could do this for just one reason.

To a NalKuymal, under most circumstances, being asked to leave the clan meant you had broken an important law. I asked Cassandra about it.

She smiled. “Well, I knew you might notice. The truth is that these warriors are with me because they only did one thing"

She explained to me that there was a race of polymorphed cats, that had a society and culture, which called themselves the Narmal, and humans and elves called these Caitans.

Well, NalKuymal are dogs and dogs hate most cats, unless they’ve been raised in the same house. It was hate at first sight.

The elves didn’t approve, and they essentially told the two groups to stop it, and cooperate. Then the elves, in their infinite wisdom, created a treaty between the two. And it was decided that those who violated the treaty were to be evicted from the culture they loved so much. Since both the NalKuymal and the Caitans would rather die than be expelled, it was thought that this would dissuade them, it was thought to be settled.

But sometimes, it was not enough. The NalKuymal especially were like this: they were more stubborn than most. And their concepts of honour were interesting, to say the least.

While NalKuymal still hated the cats, as they called them, they were bound by the elves and the Caitans to obey the law. So they were bound to evict those NalKuymal individuals who broke the treaty law. And while they hated it like anything, they did it. And Cassandra, who loved the NalKuymal people so much, and who thought it unfair, took in any who wanted a place to live and work. It was almost like being home.
Skeohar accepted the situation, even though normally he was obliged not to deal with these outcasts, or even speak to them. He, like most others who visited Cassandra’s keep, knew the circumstances of their exile.

They came from different clans, as evidenced by their skin color and size differences.

In the keep were her children. We headed there almost immediately. On the way there, Cassandra was dogged by her seneschal, who always did this, said Skeohar, whenever she was home. Perhaps he thought she might leave if he waited for her to settle. Since Cassandra was known to be that way anyway, perhaps it was true.

Once inside, we discovered that only one daughter was there (Cassandra, and therefore Danon, had one son, named Dominic, and two daughters). It was the youngest daughter, named Dorilys who met us. And, after the usual affectionate demonstration, Cassandra explained what was up.

This daughter of a warrior queen (my opinion) turned her cool eyes to look at me, and also, into me. I allowed it, even though her aura was not precisely compatible or friendly to my own.

She looked first at me, then at her own mother. “Mother, the information is still there, but I will need quiet to figure it all out. Shall we adjourn to the workroom? It’s recalibrated to handle short disruptions of magick from NalKuymal. I had no problem with this myself, so we went up some stairs, and she had me sit in a chair in a small room.

She went into my mind, and read the leftover resonances of the mages who had cast the spell on me from far away. Then she used magic to tell who those resonances had belonged to. When it was all over, she was exhausted.

We left the workroom area, and we more or less amused ourselves while Dorilys rested and found the whereabouts of the culprit or culprits.

When it was all over, I knew faces, and auric fields, but the faces were unfamiliar to me. Dorilys told me that she did not know them either. As for Cassandra, her expression did not change, and she indicated with a strange serenity that was disturbing and even dangerous. She told me she had seen them before, in the presence of another mage, who I had brought in for arrest a long while ago. Then she told me something chilling: they were all blood mages.

First, let me explain: a blood mage uses the blood of himself, of animals or other people, to make his magic stronger and more effective. It was also a bad way to effect change, for it often placed the mage out of control with his magick. It also attracted imps, demons, and other chaotic creatures who loved to take control of others. This was bad. Every blood mage always said that they would never “lose control.” None had ever managed not to.

And then Cassandra proved her own ability by weaving a picture of the mage she was talking about, and I froze, for I knew him. He was an ancient wizard named simply Lothar.

No one knew anything of him, except he was much older than any other wizard, and yet still handsome. He had apprentices and followers, who might well worship him quite literally. The Wizard’s Council had discovered his little “game,” and had pronounced that if he ever did these things under their jurisdiction (which was the world of Erandi only, unfortunately, the world of the Council: called Iridian), they would have him arrested and punished. The punishment for doing such magic was death.

It’d been more than a year since I’d brought him… a year before my change. I found him, bound him myself, and brought him to the Wizard’s Council for judgment. They judged that the only thing they could do which might be effective was to kill him. This they did, and I suppose they believed his people would be in chaos.

Guess not.

The three mages were close friends of Lothar. Great. They had sworn, Cassandra had said, to bring to justice any involved. I guess that meant me. And what about the rest of Wizard’s Council? Maybe they didn’t have the power to manage it. At this point, who knew?

We almost picked up some of the exiles along the way, until Skeohar reminded them that outside this keep, he had an obligation to not associate with them, and that as a kah-merla, it would be bad for them to help me. It was a pity, since they all appeared to be quite good, but it couldn’t be helped. Cassandra didn’t like it, but after listening to Skeohar, she agreed. Reluctantly.

Dorilys did a magic spell (without me, of course), to find out where they had gone off to. Cassandra believed she could find them. I hoped so; they might do it again.

So we made plans to leave the keep, and head first to Iridian, and then Erandi. Erandi was more unsettled than Iridian, so we wanted to save the best for last.

It should never happen to anyone, and now that it had, it must never happen to anyone else.

The keep of Cassandra gave us warriors both elven and NalKuymal, the latter none of which were exiled: simply mercenaries working for Cassandra. Since she was one of the founding members of the Guild, it was appropriate. I myself had never been a member of the Guild.

So what was the Mercenaries Guild? Paying someone to guard you, or kill someone, or find a magickal item, or any number of other tasks, could be a risky thing. One never knew if the people you were hiring were reliable. Well, a small group of highly trained, reputable, fighters and mages started to become as well known as possible. After a while, their names became well-known. Everyone talked about how you could always count on them. And other warriors and wizards started to join their crew, under apprenticeship until their names were made, and it spread.

The group, now known as a Guild because they paid part of what they made to the group for maintenance and upkeep (guildhouses were established, and this required money) pretty much reminded many NalKuymal of a clan. Guild members were certified by the Guild as trustworthy, and those who proved false to their oaths were eliminated… often by killing them. It was no small thing to be a member of the Mercenaries’ Guild.

Was I a member? No, but many people of the group trusted me: no mean feat, I assure you.

Certain wealthy, ex-Mercenaries also provided for the Guild’s continuing efforts, and it spread from Erandi - where it was born - to Ylda, Iridian, Oerth, and etc.Even where the Aknowne Worlds’ Council did not hold sway, there were Guild Houses nearly everywhere, and I knew that Cassandra, Skeohar and the others would count on using them as we traveled.

So much the better, I thought. Tracking four mages through the worlds we traveled to would not be easy. But even so, I was looking forward to it.

Before we left, however, something happened. I was adopted by a four-footed friend. He was black-furred, about the size of a large wolf, and met me outside my room one morning, as though to say: “Well, are you ready for breakfast? Let’s go!"

I leaned way down, and then petted him for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few minutes. I saw the others headed towards the common room, so I asked him if he was coming. All the dogs, wolves and Elvish dogs - called kooshis - ate in the same room as the people, so it was a reasonable question.

Well, of course he was coming with me, and he established himself at my seat before I could say anything.

The other NalKuymal appeared amused; it seemed a little like they were expecting something like this to happen. I spent my breakfast paying attention to my new friend, and then went over to Skeohar, over at Cassandra’s table. “Ski,” I asked.

“Yes?” Skeohar seemed highly amused for some reason. “Like your friend?"

“Why is he following me?” I asked, for indeed, there he was behind me.

“He has adopted you. He needs a name.” As if to say: and that’s that.

“But he’s not mine, is he?” I asked. I wasn’t certain I could be responsible for myself, let alone someone or something else (NalKuymal considered the fourfooted kuymal or Lowell the same as any person, really, and often their instincts were trusted over themselves.).

Skeohar looked from the dogwolf to me, and smiled. “Actually, yes; he is.” Did he seem pleased? I could never tell with Ski

“Don’t I have a choice?” I asked rather whiningly. It seemed insufferable that my choices were being taken from me

“Certainly; you can tell him to go away, and he’ll probably go. But it’ll hurt his feelings, and I don’t think he’d adopt somebody who didn’t need him. We trust them in most things."

I had to keep remembering: NalKuymal --- the word meant “man-wolf,” and referred to the fact that they believed themselves descended from them. They were much like super-obedient children, around the mental age of a two-year or three-year old child, and their senses were even more acute than the NalKuymal were, which is something. Where had he come from? Why had he attached himself to me? Then I heard something from Skeohar. I turned and he spoke to me.

“Kai,” he said to me. “It is a very good thing this has happened; it’s a good sign. It means he thinks of you as one of us. It is like passing the test of adulthood."

So I hunkered down, and looked into his violet eyes, remembering a pair of lavender eyes belonging to Mara, who I recalled with great affection. Somewhere, I remembered that purple was the color of philosophy, and of teachers. Was somebody trying to tell me something? I fondled his ebony fur for a moment. “I’m not going anywhere fun,” I told him softly. “It’ll be hard work

The dog looked at me, and then he suddenly sneezed, as if to say, “so what?” Then he came forward slightly, and his silver tongue brushed my nose and then my cheek. ’There now; you’re mine,’ he seemed to say.

Cassandra smiled at me. “He’s one of the keep’s dogs; he just showed up one day without a person. You should name him; I don’t believe he has a name.” She paused, reading from a book while sitting close to Skeohar. “I think he’s cute."

But what to call him? For his fur? Or his eyes? What about Vangar, which meant “fanged one?” Dantar, for “toothed one?” THOSE were too obvious. I sighed. Then I thought of something and how he had chosen me out of everyone else: he must have been waiting for me. “Amazing,” I said almost absent-mindedly. I had never expected it. I scratched his cheeks and smiled at him. “How about ?” I asked.

“Why that?” Skeohar asked, curious.

I looked at him with a smile. “His adoption of me was a surprise, but if I called him that, he’ll react any time we are startled, since the word ‘kazu’ or’ kazua’ is said at such a time. So I thought I’d use the word ‘to astonish’ but change it a little bit, to make it unique. Esbahir means astonishing one, and he is. That’s why."

And Skeohar nodded, obviously pleased from the look of it. “Well done, I think.” He looked at the dogwolf. “Well now,” he said to him, “you’re named now."

Bahir, for his part, sat down, then dropped down to the ground, to roll over playfully. As if to say, “okay! Done deal!"

We left the next day. It was as though we couldn’t leave without Bahir. Well, maybe that was right.

We were met in Iridia by a representative from Wizard’s Council that wished to deal with the rogue mages themselves. And I told the man “I’ll need to ask my clanleader.” It felt strange to say that, somehow, but I had . And I thought about using one of our resident elven mages, but thought better of it. It was too ‘round about.

But one of our NalKuymal warriors was a son of the clanleader’s sister; she had married another clan, of course, but he could mentally contact his own mother, and she could get in contact easily with her brother (they were still very close).

We passed on the message to Zafra, with the request from the wizards. And it took only one day to get the clanleader’s message back: This is a private matter. We would rather do it ourselves.

The messenger went off away (so as not to be distracted from our magick-buffering mental energies), and communicated our answer to his superiors. And they asked him to ask us the fate of the criminal mages.

That was easy: “Death,” I said. “We have but few remedies for such dishonour."

Well, it seemed that this flew in the face of what they might have done, and besides, they were used to making their own judgments. “It seems as though you have already decided,” came the message from the entranced representative of the Wizards’ Council.

Over the last six months, I had spoken with my clanleader. He had heard from the other clans who had also had surprise clanmembers thrust upon them, and the consensus was clear, without indecision. So I answered as they had, not too long ago. “It is wrong, what they have done. We have a reputation to uphold, and our honour to defend. It is as though someone has said: ‘this is what the NalKuymal are.’ We are tired of being a scapegoat. They must be found, and made to pay.” I paused

And now Cassandra came forward; she was also tired of the whole thing. “Look,” she said agitatedly. “The NalKuymal have never said it was okay to do this, since, until these Transformations, only a NalKuymal born so acts or behaves correctly. Also, NalKuymal receive benefits by behaving as NalKuymal. There is a right and a wrong way to act. If it didn’t matter, then maybe it would be okay."

I added that the NalKuymal did not need to make these additional clanmembers welcome; but they did. “We could, instead, kill them outright."

The messenger seemed confused as he “listened” to the mages communicating with him. Then he looked directly at me. “You used to be a member of Council,” he said. “Why are you doing this?” Whether he was asking on his own, or from them, I didn’t know.

I sighed. “I am not qualified to hunt for them anymore,” I said. “I am no longer human; I am NalKuymal now. If they’re unhappy, then they should find the wizards before we do, and punish them themselves.” I looked at Cassandra, still standing next to me, looking miffed.

As we left his vicinity, the young man stepped back, gestured arcanely, and disappeared in a swirl of smoke and glitter. “Show off,” muttered Cassandra. “I hate it when they do that."

I approached the others, waiting patiently (sort of) for our return. “They want us to deliver the wizards to the Wizards’ Council for their own justice.” I held up my hand, when they protested. “I told them no."

The first two wizards We found on Iridia, the world on which both Councils were located. You see, Wizards’ Council and the Knowne World Council were separate; Wizards’ Council only encompassed Erandi and Iridia. Ylda, another member of the Known World Council, had not yet joined the former one.

When a world joined, every mage was enjoined to participate, and was told what entailed “not behaving.” You know, yes, I’ll be good and not try to take over the planet. No, I won’t turn the human population into orcs. Things like that.

As for their fields, the first’s magical field signature was fairly unique, as was the one of the other one. It took time to find them, but that was the easy part.

The city they lived near would not help us; to them, the citizens, these wizards had done nothing wrong. I had caused the death of their boon friend and co-wizard, so I deserved what had happened to me.

Joy. I feel much better now.

So we ended up on two fronts: Cassandra and the elven mages attacked the mages of Iridia, and the rest of us kept the angry citizens of their pet city away. We tried not to kill anyone, but to no avail. We made a mess; what more could we do? As members of the Wizards’ Council, they were informed they were at fault. It did not do any good.

It was determined that we should find the third and fourth mages before we were beset upon by the angry locals. We used magick to do that.

It’s like dousing for water, except the map is a little different. The third mage was on Erandi, which angered Cassandra no end.

Again, the Wizards’ Council tried to make a case for their own brand of justice. And Cassandra pointed out to them that Erandi was essentially her world. She had given it peace, and advancements. In return, most of the locals had given their loyalty to her, including an alliance with the NalKuymal, who were very upset by what had happened.

The Council wisely left us alone for this one.

And in the end, Cassandra ended up making this one regret his decision to aid Lothar. She alone took care of him. We all allowed that, since it was Cassandra’s place, even though we had been involved in the incident that had caused Cassandra’s anger.

As for the last mage, he could not be found through the field method; perhaps he was not where we could look, or where I or Cassandra or Skeohar had ever been. We three had been the dousers for the purposes of finding these mages. Dorilys had been the original douser, off of my field. So it should work, logically, but he could not be found.

Cassandra sighed. “He’s run far,” she groused. “We could put out a reward for him, or actually hire the Mercenaries’ Guild."

Skeohar nodded. “That widens the field, so to speak. Many are NalKuymal, and would welcome this chance to show humans they can’t just do what they please."

Then they both looked at me. Me, the victim. Me, the injured party. Me, who was certainly a little less upset about the whole thing. By now, I had few regrets. Why?

The NalKuymal had welcomed me into a family that spanned entire worlds… openly, and without much reservation. I could now see why they objected to what some mages could do: there were things mental power might do, but they did not and would not. It was a matter of principle to them, and a matter of honour.

Essentially, that put an end to it. Those who had done this thing had paid. But who was to say that it might not happen again? What happened then? What would we or any of the NalKuymal do?

And, indeed, neither Council wanted the standard response of the NalKuymal to stand as is. It just didn’t seem fair, they said ‘Behave or die?’ That just wasn’t fair!

I now understood the purpose of my having become NalKuymal. I had to explain. I, who had been a mage, now a “Nakmal”, had to go to Council, and explain it to everyone’s satisfaction

I wanted to go by myself at first; what harm could it do? But I was no longer certain that they would speak to me. Quite often, common citizens of the Known Worlds needed a wizard or mage sponsor or one from the Council in order to be seen.

Thinking of this, was when I decided to approach Cassandra. After the "Lothar" incident, Cassandra, her lover, her daughter and the guards of her Keep went back to that castle. So that was where I went.

And I approached as a visitor; I didn’t want to presume any sort of privilege due to past campaigns, or relations with the warriors of her guard. I went to the front gate of her castle, and asked to see her.

When the chamberlain came back, after receiving my request, she was behind him. She then waved him off impatiently, and looked at me mock-sternly. “Have I treated you poorly that you should act this way? Friends of mine don’t come in the front way. And you are my friend. And cousin to Skeohar’s sister, married into your clan. What is it?"

I explained my decision to her, and she nodded sagely. “You’re right; even though you’ve done much for both Councils, t’would seem that you should have a sponsor. I’m the right person for the job, no?"

“Thank you,” I said.

“Sure,” she grinned, “what are friends for, anyway?” Then she paused. “When do you want to go?"

The search and punishment of the first three rogue mages had taken nearly six months, due to finding them, and then chastising them. “As soon as possible,” I said. ”Springtime is almost a year away.” Of course, it wouldn’t be a good idea to go when certain individual cousins of mine (and maybe myself included) couldn’t think clearly, due to “spring fever,” remember? As a NalKuymal, I certainly recalled the possibilities.

Mara had given me an herbal compound to quell the spring fever while I’d been at the monastery, which had silenced her own. We had been only together so that we wouldn’t disturb the others, who had not been given anything of the sort. As for those who were either sick, injured, sterile, or those women and their partners who had given birth the previous year (and were therefore temporarily sterile), well, life went on as usual, without the fever. This year, however, I really needed to pay close attention to the turning of the seasons, as it were. Spring would be coming; even if I did not find anyone to marry, I should go home, and share my season with someone.

“Too true,” she said and smiled, though not unkindly. “I’ll summon the troops."

We took a smaller group than before, but the same type: some elves, and the rest NalKuymal, Skeohar, Cassandra, and myself.

The trip from Ylda to Iridia again required a little finesse, but wound up at the geo-portal just outside the capital city of Okadaya, where Council was. And as I had suspected, some discussion had already taken place about the NalKuymal's "unfair” treatment of humans taking the form of NalKuymals. I knew I had to go there, and talk.

And not only did they insist that I needed a sponsor, but one guard even doubted that I was once Kieran.

To which I informed them that “NalKuymal do not lie, friend; it goes against our faith."

The guard looked at me queerly, and she said, “Oh? What faith? ‘Tis said that Nakaimal (*yet another mispronunciation of the word) have no religion, worshipping no god But be that as it may, tis said that Master Kieran is dead."

Cassandra, who had been in the background, came forward “Guard, do you know who I am?"

The woman looked, gulped and then nodded. Seemed that Cassandra’s reputation was at work here.

Cassandra smiled sweetly, and nodded. “This man is telling you the truth. And I am sponsoring him to speak to Council. Can you please,” and here she smiled even sweeter, “tell them that we are here?"

The guard, eager to be away, nodded like a toy bobbing bird, and scuttled away to speak to Council. Another guard, of course, took her place, but he said nothing. I turned to Cassandra. “That was unnecessary,” I said. “I had ways of proving my claim There’s Simeon the Red, for example."

“But what fun is that?” she said softly. “I never have any fun at all sometimes,” she smiled at me. “Just trust me."

As for the last rogue mage, he had already died, through no fault of my own, or my comrades. In a way, it was a disappointment, for the Guild had to search for him just like the first three. And knowing he was most definitely dead didn’t put to rest the nightmares I had from time to time, feeling as though I had been taken apart piece by piece, and sewn back together again. I lived with them for a while, and attempted not to come awake screaming.

On the way to the Council, at our campsite, one morning, I did just that. And, surprise, Skeohar was at my side when I awoke, looking concerned. “Bad dream?” was all he said.

“Yes.” I felt raw, exposed, and actually felt bad about waking the others up.

Skeohar nodded. “I felt something from you that I have felt for a while now. It is what was made of you, isn't it? Do you regret it?"

“Actually, no,” I replied. “Skeohar, it’s the idea of being remade, not what I was made into. The lack of control over my own destiny…. Of being made brand new physically. It must have hurt. Yet I never felt it, so somehow it’s wrong. Do you understand?"

And to my relief, he nodded. “Yes, I do,” he said to me. “We NalKuymal believe that everything has a price. Yours, through no fault of your own, seems to be this dream… a way of making you feel the pain. But it’s over now."

It was then that I discovered a new idea that NalKuymal had been using for millennia to work through horrific events, or bad dreams, or the death of a loved one or friend. They called it Sorting. What the psychic healer did was let you see the event or dream from a safe distance, as though it was a picture book, until it took on the aspect of something that might have happened to somebody else.

Skeohar was specially trained in this technique, and he offered to help me. I was so tired of the pain, and the way I was letting this get to me that I agreed.

He found in me a record of the transformation, and let me experience it for myself. I found out that one of the insidious things was that no pain was felt. It was part of the spell. I saw it as though it was happening to another man. And all along, Skeohar was there with me, encouraging me to be strong, but supporting me, too, just in case.

Everyone else stayed away from the bedroll, keeping away from the meshing of fields & auras that might put them in the middle of it, too. When it was over, I no longer had the nightmare. What a wonderful thing to weather the bad experiences of life! I wished fervently that other races might be able to have this succor for themselves, but it required compatible auric fields, which also needed the ability to stand back, and view it dispassionately. Humans did not seem capable of this, at least not at this time.

Each time we had brought a mage to justice, we had rather doggedly taken souvenirs from the bodies, so that the Wizard’s Council would know we had extracted vengeance from them, and we sent an elfin messenger back with these items to Iridia to show the Council. I myself would have felt a bit strange to be going there.

And Cassandra, normally so chipper and glad to be out and about, was even a little silent, especially when she’d sent the evidence of the last mage’s death.

When I asked her what was wrong, she sighed. “I just know something will come of this. I’m not sure what, but every time official people are involved, it’s bad."

Now this: It took more than a week to get an appointment to see the Council this time, and my previous status with Wizards’ Council was not taken into account. I did not want any preferential treatment because of my past or what had happened to me.

After the last mage had been confirmed as dead, we had already received a letter of thanks from Wizards’ Council. They did not have a problem with what we did. Four less embarrassments and I knew they were happy with the result. They had invited me to attend Wizards’ Council, one last time, as their guest.

I had thought that might be a bit funny, so I had graciously declined. I realized I really didn’t belong there anymore.

Now: finally, the summons. And it was not because of what I had done, or what the four rogue mages had done, but because of the NalKuymal response. Regarding those who had transformed themselves, and those who had been transformed into NalKuymal, by others. They said it wasn’t fair.

I had spoken to Skeohar before going this time; I wanted him with me. And, although at first he’d declined, he finally agreed that at least he could show them his clan’s support. Besides, he might be able to answer the questions I didn’t know the answers to.

We entered the enormous, cavernous building right before noon (guess councilors needed their sleep). Our weapons were peace-bonded, and distance weapons were given over to friends who stayed outside. As always, those who entered Council Chamber were searched for any hidden spells, weapons, potions, or poisons. And swearing you were clean of such things was not good enough, a fact that irked NalKuymal no end. We even removed our cloaks to show that we only had our own personal short-range, melee weaponry (rapier, main gauche and daggers), and apparently, only NalKuymal were allowed to do this much. Long ago, once we had impressed the Council’s guards that no NalKuymal was armed with weapons beyond their own personal ones, we were allowed in the gigantic chamber. Cassandra was already in her seat, having arrived separately.

After living for nearly a year in smaller surroundings, this amphitheatre somehow seemed wasteful to me. I glanced at Skeohar, and he, too, was uneasy. Of course, his discomfiture was deeper seated than mine was, being inborn.

We were led to a elevated stage where there was a podium, and a number of seats. We faced the seats situated even higher than we were, and waited to be acknowledged. It didn’t take long.

Essentially, the sonorous speech told us that, while those who had been slain were rogue wizards, and therefore, subject to the laws of the worlds they lived on, this situation with those who had been transformed was not okay.

I looked at Skeohar. “Shall I speak?” I questioned him.

“Certainly,” he replied easily. “After all, you have a completely different viewpoint. Once, you came from outside. You understand.” And he gestured to the podium. I waited a moment, and then I spoke.

I had never been addressed by Council in its entirety before, so I really did not know what to expect. The suspense was ended by the standing of one individual, a man who quite frankly looked ancient to me. Obviously, he either didn’t know any youth spells, or didn’t believe in them. He spoke.

“I remember when Kieran here was introduced to our Council as someone who could be depended on in any hunt for wrongdoers. I am filled with sorrow for this horrible turn of events. You were once a powerful wizard yourself, so why are you supporting the attitudes by the NalKuymal?"

“Sir,” I began, “what exactly are you protesting? The changing of innocent people into NalKuymal, or the way these new NalKuymal are treated by the people of Per Eyas?” Well, I had to know one way or another.

He genuinely looked puzzled. “It is not fair to expect those who have been changed by someone else to behave like one of them or die. How is this fair?"

“Ah,” I said, “now I understand. You perceive it as a punishment of some kind. Well, that says something very… interesting about your perception of the NalKuymal themselves."

I paused, and then continued, “First, even as any member of any kingdom is expected to act in a certain way and to obey the laws of that country, so do the NalKuymal. And if anyone escaped into that nation, to avoid punishment from the place he flees from, it doesn’t matter. Everywhere, if you don’t follow the laws of the land, you are eventually punished. You can even die from such a problem. That’s exactly the same situation with the NalKuymal, as everyone who looks like this,” and here I gestured at my face, “is expected to. There’s no escape from this face. Wherever I go, I am treated like a NalKuymal, and expected to act like one"

Second, you are presuming that this is a punishment. The price I pay for being this way is worth it: my senses and powers are more alive than I have ever felt. The rules are simple: honour is all. I have accepted it already. I am not being punished.

“If this Council believes that what the NalKuymal is doing is a punishment, that is wrong. Every NalKuymal is expected to behave him or herself. Every NalKuymal, barring unforeseen circumstances, is expected to marry, for alliance and children. Each NalKuymal is expected to adhere to his clanleader’s will, and each clanleader is expected to do what is best for his clan. And any NalKuymal caught violating the way of their culture is reprimanded, and then made to pay for his or her mistake. It is the way of their world, even before they ever heard of these transformations."

I paused again, and then continued, “If you punish the NalKuymal for what they do, you will lose something of great value. Besides, you assume something. That we are punishing these transformations for becoming NalKuymal. It is nothing like that. We are welcomed into their midst. Our talents and skills are welcomed. We add to their number. We expand their diversity. They taught me how to become NalKuymal. I am not sorry. Thank you, members of the Council."

I sat down, amidst a great silence. I don’t believe they had expected that from me, who had once been a great wizard myself.

There was a great silence before the old wizard spoke. “Thank you…uh, Kieran of Balthasar. We shall notify you of our decision."

So what more could we do? We all went our separate ways, including Skeohar and Cassandra. For themselves, they went to another adventure, another horizon. I went home, to my people. What more could I do?

Finally, the Council of clanleaders were sent a scroll from the Wizards’ Council. It was the most cowardly decision I had ever seen. Essentially, it went like this: We neither support nor condemn the actions of the NalKuymal. And if they punish wizards for their transformation of humans into NalKuymal, we will not stop them. We will watch, and wait.” Humph. Weak. “Whatever you want. We reserve our right to change our minds if you punish someone we don’t want you to punish.” Whatever You say, sirs and ma’ms.

So the NalKuymal wrote their own statement, which they bid me take to Wizards’ Council, and they politely asked Cassandra if there were any other bodies of decision as far as mages were concerned. Not so far, she told them. But the word will go out, she said. The Wizards’ Council was a force of authority in more than just its immediate jurisdiction.

It felt a bit strange to be in the Council chamber again, especially now. I could almost hear the echoes of past mages calling to me, some in welcome, some in hate, for my part in their capture. I told myself that I really could hear none of this, but my memory wasn’t listening. Steadfastly, I moved down the long hall to the chamber itself. The guards, with only a little look, opened the doors for me as I approached.

They received me, as though they did not know me, and I went home.

This is a story that never ends. I made my plea, they erred on our side, and we went home.

Cassandra and her partner went adventuring. For all I know, they are having the time of their lives. If not, I hope they call us so we can help out with their fun. One never knows.

Eventually, I will enter the Mercenary’s Guild. But there is more training to be done, and I have much to learn.

But I am easy about that, and my current physical form. I do not want to be changed back, not any more, and maybe I never did. My clan accepts me, my clanleader approves of me, and the NalKuymal accept me. And that is enough for me.

“Tarl."

Sitting in the great hall, I look over to see Korban, my clanleader’s son. “Yes?"

“What are you thinking about?” he asked me.

“About the humans,” I replied. How easy it is now to call them so. It was as though I had never been one of them.

He sat next to me, which was a measure of his being comfortable with me, for auric field compatibility is not always a sure thing. “Will you ever go out again?” he wanted to know.

“Later,” I answered. “I still have much to learn.”

“Will you play for me?” Korban asked me. “Something Xlel? Or perhaps Elvish?"

“Of course, kah -Jifgar,” I answered. “I would be happy to please you."

“Don’t call me that,” he said, smiling. “I am not even eight years old yet.” Every NalKuymal born to every clan learned survival skills, and how to hunt while still very young, like many barbarian tribes, I was told long ago, and went out at eight years of age, to see if they knew these well. It was a first test of warriorship. Korban would be doing this in one year; it was something he was looking forward to. It meant he was a true Xlel.

“Kolothe says you are ready now,” I told him. “I have faith in you.” Kolothe, who I had met a year ago, it had turned out, was one of the teachers of survival skills; he was good with the young.

Korban looked at me. “Really? He never tells me what he thinks."

“He doesn’t want to make you lose your perspective,” I said. “You need to think, and remember the Law.” And, with that, I put my flute to lips, and began to play, as if to say: that’s the end of it. I realized I had truly come full circle. I was no longer a wolf-faced human in stranger’s clothes. I had truly become Xlel. I was a NalKuymal in truth. Soon, a new cycle would begin. I was ready for it.

Epilogue: “It’s Not Over Yet"

Bit by bit, little by little, the great hall of the Eresha was peopled by fewer and fewer of the people. Those who remained were distracted, to say the least. I watched as my kin became short tempered, and easily led away. Somehow, the time of spring had snuck up on us all without my knowing it, even though all others know it all too well.

“Tarl.” The voice was that of my own clanleader, Zafra. “Shall we talk?"

I was lying on the largest and most comfortable of all the couches, alone in the corner. I nodded, and stood. We headed for my house again, as before.

Once there, we headed up the stairs, to wind up at the living room couch. Zafra sat first, and I followed suit. He spoke first.

“Tarl,” he said in a patient steady voice. “I told you this day would come. Tell me you feel nothing at all."

Well, no, but I hadn’t been sure. No one told me what it would be like, after all. Funny, symbolically-laden dreams, a few mornings where I’d awoke with my hands either clutching the sheets or strangely moist… how could I have known? “Zafra,” I began, “I felt something, but I wasn’t positive…."

He actually smiled at me. “I should have approached you sooner, but I have no marriage for you.” He sighed sadly. “This problem is part my fault."

I cocked my head at Zafra. “But how is that so?” I asked. “You’ve done nothing wrong."

Zafra sighed again, this time frustrated. “Tarl, I am your clanleader. It’s my duty to find you a mate. But after what happened to my uncle so long ago…” Zafra trailed off, with a queer almost afraid look on his face. “I promised myself I would let each clanmember decide, if possible."

“It’s not your fault entirely,” I said back. “You have asked me if I found anyone interesting, and I haven’t. It’s partly my own fault.” I had served my turn at guarding the Eresha section of Pier Island over the last half-year, and had met others, many of different clans, but no one had interested me yet, at least not that way.

But Zafra would not be dissuaded. “I have heard from every clan we deal with, and every clanleader has said they would welcome an alliance with Eresha through you, Tarl. I was hoping you’d meet someone, I guess.” He sighed again. “So I did something you might not like.” A pause, then he said, “I got you a Temple woman, to guide you through your first season."

You know, no matter how often this happened, I was still taken aback whenever a NalKuymal did something like this: how could I understand? “Jifgar,” I said carefully, “I can still think. Perhaps it’ll be different with me."

But Zafra stood up assertively. “No, KaiJuval. You’ll accept her for the moment. It’s your first. I mean it. Just because you don’t really understand doesn’t mean it isn’t important.” And with that, Zafra turned on his heel, and left my house. I just sat there, and waited. For all I knew, she was here already.

After a moment, I also stood, and went to the door. No one met me there, so I went back to the great hall. I myself preferred to play my music among others. I played my flute, all alone. Despite my thoughts of what the clanleader might have done, it was still quite lonely just then, and I could have used a friend. No one really knew I was there; they were wrapped up in their own concerns.

Then I heard a quiet sound to my left; I remembered that there was another couch there, so I opened my eyes.

A lone woman sat there, her own eyes closed. She was dressed in stark white the color of death, and snow, and Order at its most profound. I hadn’t ever seen her before, and wondered what had happened to her, for I could tell she was very sad, for she wore her melancholy like a singular brooch on her tunic.

Still staring, I put my flute to lips, and before I knew quite what I was about, started playing a melancholy tune from long, long ago, by an elf who had lost his one great love (both lover and love were noble elf men, and it was a very sad story). As I watched her there, she seemed to take it in, and she sighed seemingly transfixed by the music.

I couldn’t stop playing; she couldn’t seem to stop listening. We were together, even though by ourselves. Yet she didn’t look my way, although I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

Ikemshe approached this woman dressed in snow. “Letta,” she simply said.

The woman opened her eyes, and looked at Ikemshe. “Yes?” she said, almost in a whisper (if I had been human, I never would have heard her). “Is she laid out now?"

Ikemshe nodded, and said, “Yes. We will wait her burning for the eleven days and I assume you’ll be staying in her old house.”

Again, the woman with the sad eyes nodded. “Where else should I go? I will go through her things, and decide what to keep for myself.” The woman Ikemshe had called Letta stood. “I’d like to go there now, thank you."

Ikemshe nodded. Then she looked around the hall, and her eyes settled on me. “Tarl,” she beckoned to me.

Well, what else was I doing? I got up and my dog and I approached them both. “Please take this woman to the house next to your own,” she told me.

I nodded respectfully. “Of course,” I said, and then turned to the woman. “This way, then.” Silently, we both left the great hall.

Someplace between the hall and her friend’s house (I wasn’t going to presume - all I knew was this friend was a woman, too), we acquired a kuymal (large as a dire wolf) whose fur was the color of finely minted silver, but with a whitish cast. She gave him a cursory pat on his huge head, but otherwise said nothing still. We ended up at what I had originally thought was an empty house. It was then that she spoke. “This one,” she simply said.

I nodded. “Thank you for that information,” I commented honestly, “for I had never seen anyone in this house before."

Letta looked at me directly. “You’re new here,” she said. “Were you born elsewhere?"

“Yes,” I answered, “In Balthasar.”Answer the question, I had been taught, by both my parents, and my NalKuymal teachers. Besides, we had little to do with one another right now. It was all she really needed to know at this moment.

Letta nodded, and almost smiled. “I have met those of our people born outside the hold, and it must be hard to live outside with so many kin not near.” She looked at me a little closely. “Do you find it so?"

I really had to think about it for a brief moment. Well, my lady, I hear it is, but my situation was, shall we say, unique.” Never lie, the old admonitions say. You should rather be starving, parched, naked, and filthy than lie. But I also didn’t want her to judge me.

But she said nothing more. “I thank you for helping me,” she said. “I wish to be alone just now.” I watched as she ascended the stairs, and disappeared into the house.

Who was she? Who was this friend of hers? How had this person died? My brain was burning with questions, but I didn’t follow her and ask her rude inquiries.

Instead, I went back to the hall, where - as I’d thought - Ikemshe was at the clanleader’s desk. Ikemshe had borne the clan a beautiful daughter, so as most of us, she had not gone into fertile season herself, but was only slightly distracted this year. I approached her, and cleared my throat.

Ikemshe started slightly. “Done, Tarl?” was all she said, but I’d been a little too quiet for Ikemshe's own good.

“Yes,” I answered. “Sorry."
“For what?” she asked me with a bit of a smile. “For surprising me? Good job,” she said sincerely. “What question may I answer?"

I smiled back, and nodded. “Leave it to you to know my mind better than even me,” I replied. “My question has to do with the young woman you called Letta."

Ikemshe looked in the direction of the doors of the clan hall, as if considering. “Her name is Ablettavaar, Tarl. She is from another clan, but her mind partner was Eresha."

I remembered Sarvan, my combat teacher. He’d had such a relationship; I remembered. “And her mindpartner is dead?” Immediately I felt sorry for her, for I knew that many NalKuymal simply lay down and died when “the other half of yourself” died. Either that, or they sometimes moved the planet itself to find a replacement.

It just happened that way sometimes. It was like a great love affair, but not necessarily with sex attached (although sometimes there was. The important part of the companionship was mental, not physical, after all). I really can’t explain a mind partner relationship, except inadequately. This woman and her partner had been like conjoined twins (which I’d seen once), but they were physically separated. The hole in her head must be devastating. “Ikemshe,” I said sincerely, “if she needs any help sorting out her partner’s things, or anything else, I would be honored to help."

She looked at me. “I’ll tell her, but she probably won’t want it.” A pause, then she continued, “Thank you all the same, Tarl."

I went to “my couch,” and I continued to play for myself. I closed my eyes, as usual, so as not to be distracted.

After a moment, I became aware of a new scent, so I opened my eyes. There, on the floor in front of me, was Letta's kuymal, his tongue lolling, obviously enjoying the music. What should I do?

I decided not to take him to his mistress, since she had made it plain that she wanted to be alone. Instead, I smiled at him in welcome. “Hello,” I simply said. I didn’t know his name, and he obviously wasn’t about to tell me, either. Oh well….

Eventually, I got tired -------darkness had crept in silently, and people had come in for dinner. I wasn’t really hungry, and had already gotten a snack for myself. What the two dogs, mine and Letta's , had done, I didn’t know… I hadn’t really been paying attention. I decided not to worry about it, and go to bed. I got up, and looked at Bahir. “You can come to bed with me if you want,” I said, “but you don’t have to.” And so saying, I left the two of them. I wasn’t responsible for the white one, so I didn’t say anything to him.

Slowly, with measured gait, I lumbered to my house. The lights at Letta's friend’s house were out, so I presumed she’d gone to bed. I went to my own, but hadn’t remembered leaving a light on in there….

…and I hadn’t. Letta, dressed in only tunic and breeches, was sitting on my living room couch. “I know about you,” she said. “Once you were Kieran."

Oh great, I thought; she probably didn’t like what “I had done to myself.” Many of the unknowing were of the opinion that kah-merla should be exterminated. Was she one of these? “If that’s a problem,” I said carefully, “we can discuss it.” This was a NalKuymal code phrase of sorts, for “we can ‘discuss’ it with blades instead of words.” The NalKuymal had a dueling code, as I’ve said before and it was my right to say this. I was thoroughly sick and tired of people from other clans, and human busybodies judging me. Then, quite suddenly, I remembered what wearing white might mean.

A person wearing white clothes, especially only white, was an examiner of all that was right and wrong with the culture, and its people. White was symbolic of Order, and all law. Quite literally, she could look right through me and know if anything was “Not right” about me: my body, my mind, or even my inner being. And, as a healer/examiner had once told me another lifetime ago, these wearers of white could and had killed that which was not fixable. I swallowed. Hard.

She actually smiled at me. “I see you’ve heard from others who think they have the right to object to your existence,” she said. “I thought you should know; I have seen within you, and find nothing wrong at all. You have a NalKuymal soul.” She nodded at me. “I have seen humans, too, who dress and act like Xlel, who wish they could change themselves into one. But they object to the very magick that might give them their heart’s desire, and this pains me.” Letta shook her head. “I also want you to know that you have talents and abilities that should be passed onto offspring. If you like, I can speak to my own clanleader regarding a contract."

Contract. Marriage contract, that is. “I appreciate your words, more than you might know. It means a great deal to me.” Then I shook my head. “But at this time, no. Thank you, really.” I paused, then remembered about her kuymal. “By the way, your four-footed friend was in the great hall, but he wasn’t bothering anyone. I thought you should know."

Letta nodded. “He’s unusually polite for a kuymal,” she said, “thank you.” And she bowed respectfully at me. “Good night to you.”

I found myself calling at her. “Wait,” I said.

She turned. “Yes?” she responded.

“If I might be so bold as to ask, I noticed you yourself are not married.” I said. “Why?"

She cocked her head at me, as though to ask me why I wanted to know. Then I suppose she decided that we had been talking about that, and only that. “Because I myself am mostly samnir, and my relationship with my adjur was enough for my clanleader at that time.” She paused, allowing me to ponder that for myself. “Now, I don’t know what my uncle will decide."

This small speech told me several things. #1: For the most part, she was neither interested in nor attracted to most men. I.e.: she was mostly a lesbian. NalKuymal had no problems with those born so, and generally tolerant with those who were mostly so. #2: her mind partner had been either lesbian herself, or bisexual, which 80% of NalKuymal were. #3: Her uncle was also her clanleader, and he had temporarily chosen to allow her mind partner to be like a marriage. I had noticed right away that she was of the Jredhas clan; even her indoor tunic had the symbolic totem animal of the clan… a twin-headed firebird or phoenix (two heads being symbolic of balance, of course). Very interesting. “I’m sorry,” I said politely,” that I asked such a personal question, but your talents are also worth passing on."

Again, she smiled at me courteously. “Thank you, sir, for your assessment,” she said. “My father and my uncle respected my choice of a partner, and wanted me happy. Besides, this way, they never lost my abilities as an examiner.”

Hmmm! Too true, for although married women left their birth clan for their husband’s, unmarried women did not. And probably, in so doing, they could both live in either clanhold, alternating between the Eresha and the Jredhas. Ingenious. “I wanted to be sure you knew this examiner’s opinion, rather than wondering, so that is why I came here. I should go now."

This time, I did not say anything; I let her go. And I went to my bed, to dream of running, and chasing female wolves and elven women, and clutch at my sheets to keep my wandering hands from touching my silvery skin seeking release. Contrary to my avowals to Zafra, springtime had found me.

As I dreamed, the women’s faces changed to one I had seen before. At first, Cassandra’s and then Letta's visage wore the clothes of elves, running together and laughing at one another pleasurably. I awoke, trying to wipe the dream from my memories, but to no avail. Why Cassandra? After a while of wracking my brain for a reason, I came upon one. Cassandra had been mostly lesbian, or samnir, and so was Ablettavaar. I had always thought Cassandra beautiful, and I was equating her with Ablettavaar/Letta. I was obsessing on her.

A dark, almost growling voice spoke to me: “Well, why not? She’s unmarried. You’re unmarried.” Why not indeed?

It’s not the habit of most NalKuymal men to be so aggressive, however, and I had never been so. I lay back down on my bed, sternly told myself to go to sleep! I dreamed….

….and my sleep was troubled. Besides, how should I approach her? Her clanleader? Probably not at this time, for he was quite frankly not thinking about anything more complicated than his own needs, unless he was thinking of his own wife’s. I got up that morning, dragged myself to the bathhouse underground. I washed, but not without trying
to scratch an itch that could not be satisfied by oneself.

Perhaps I should explain a little (without saying anything too blunt). Since field resonance is such an important part of sexual interplay, one should realize that self-gratification was a non-sequitur. It was a very human thing to do (which I had once been, of course. SIGH). In fact, only those individuals who were either samnir or mostly so might be able to satisfy the urges felt during spring by doing so… which I was not.

Remember, the purpose of spring was to further the species; all else was an “unnecessary treasure.” And, since the NalKuymal were not troubled with human morals or guilt, it was rare for even the unmarried to be alone during this time (it just wasn’t done. After all, why?).

As for married people, one was expected to stay faithful to one’s spouse, which was more a matter of alliance than morality. I know, it’s complicated; suffice it to say that NalKuymal are mostly biologically monogamous.

As for Letta , she was seen for the next week, usually alone and left alone by all save Ikemshe and her fourfoot, who I found out was named Kolta, which meant snow. Because I didn’t feel I should dare to approach her, I ended up just being around, mostly playing.

A lot of business just didn’t get done during spring; most rational decisions couldn’t be trusted. But some NalKuymal might not be fertile for reasons of health (a bad case of the flu was enough to throw the balance of the physical body off-center), or as I’ve said, because they had given birth the year before (this way, almost all children were at least two years apart). So, these kin were the ones who saw to the day-to-day business of the clans. Good thing, too, don’t you think?

Then, in the midst of all these hormones raging, Letta's partner was burned. Even though not invited, I showed up. After all, she had been my next door neighbor, even though we had never met. I felt like I should.

Outside of the clanwalls, there was a tiled arena on a slight plateau, surrounded by shorter walls, which was used for special occasions, including burnings and honour challenges. The latter was usually held here because of the lethal quality of mind-fire and lightnings or windstorms being thrown about. Here Letta's friend was laid on a great stone pyre, and surrounded with fragrant wood and suffused with pungent incense and oils.

I watched as a bouquet of silver roses were placed on her chest. Silver, I thought; I didn’t know they came in that colour. I observed as a mind-warrior came forward, his normally black and silver clothing surmounted by a stark white tabard, and he raised his arms, his aura flaring into the visible spectrum, and quite suddenly, a fire began in those roses.

Infused by the oils smelling of cedar and roses, the body caught rather quickly. Slowly, the small group of mourners silently left, some of them individually, and some in twos and threes. The only two, beside Letta and myself, who stayed was Ikemshe and Zafra. But finally, even they exited, to walk back to the clanhold within the walls.

My little voice, the demon of Balthasar (who’d always been so obedient) spoke to me with a whine. ‘Play,’ he seemed to say. ‘It would be a tribute to her memory. She liked elfish music.’

Without really thinking about it, I took my flute, and closed my eyes again, as I usually did. The song I’d been playing when first I’d met Letta came to my mind, so I played it. I lost myself in the music, not caring if anyone or even everyone had heard me. I had to; there was no choice, really.

When I was finished, I opened my eyes so that I could turn around and go home. But standing in front of me, was Ablettavaar. “Nicely done,” she said softly. “How did you know? That she loved the music of the elves?"

I flushed; I hadn’t expected her to be that close to me (I could smell her closeness). “I had heard she did,” I replied, not daring to stammer. “Besides, it was what I had played the first day I’d met you.” I paused, then asked her, “Did it bother you?"

“No,” she responded, “and I thank you for the tribute.” Letta paused, and then she continued, “I have a favor to ask of you."

My heart pounded; what could I say? “If I can do it, I will,” I replied. “Name it."

“I’m still going through my adjur’s things, and it’s hard today.” She sighed, and her voice was oh, so sad just then. “Would you come to my adjur’s house, and play for me while I do it? It would help a great deal."

Well, why not? “Of course,” I answered. Why not, indeed?

It was probably a good thing I didn’t know any suggestive songs, or I might have been tempted to play them. As it was, my tunes got me lost within the sound. My blood echoed in my ears, and my temperature was high. But I said nothing; what could I have said? The sound of my heartbeat was loud enough to drown out the music. But I said nothing… I just kept playing.

After a long while, the sounds of glass clinking, papers shuffling, and boxes being opened and closed seemed to stop, although I really couldn’t be sure. I simply couldn’t be certain what I might do if I tried talking to her; what raunchy nonsense might I say? Better I should say nothing.

A warm presence laid on my lap at the couch. Maybe it was her dog, or my own; Bahir often did that. I managed not to gasp, for my feelings were so involved just now. Instead, I managed to keep calm. How? I really have no idea. But I decided to open my eyes at the end of this song, and I did.

It wasn’t Kolta, or Bahir; it was Ablettavaar. Her cheek was placed lightly against my knees; she was just sitting on the floor in front of me, her breath coming slowly, evenly. When I stopped, she looked up. “You stopped,” she said, overstating the obvious.

It was too much; I couldn’t think. “Letta. Please.” I took in a ragged breath, hardly daring to move except for that. “Please don’t…"

“Am I abhorrent?” she asked. “Don’t you like me, even just a little?” Her voice was husky, and her breath was deep, and resonant. And she moved herself into a kneeling position, her face was close to my own.

I closed my eyes again. “That’s not very fair,” I tried to protest, “my brain isn’t in control just now.” I felt her lean towards me even more, so that I breathed in her exhaling. I could taste the meat she’d eaten that morning; I could smell the rose and ebony scent on her skin. Hellfire! I tried to think to myself, but only a low whine and growl combined came out. I could not have stopped myself just then, even if death might be the result.

Our minds moved towards one another; she welcomed me into her head. The place where intimacy is grounded was empty; she both wanted and needed me. What might happen afterwards, no one might know, and right then, I didn’t really care. My heartbeat pounded in my/our heads, and I/she reached out to enfold her within my/her arms. What would happen now?

I never got to my own house that day…or night. We did make it to the bed, which was big enough for two. Once started, the fever just overtook us both, and I knew she had to be just as unreasoning as I was. Later, perhaps, we might manage to think well enough for dinner….

…or maybe not. One of the older children, too young for such business, left food at her door, as though to say yes, we know what you are doing. Here, you need to eat. NalKuymal didn’t experience spring season until they were at least fourteen years of age. Often, the older of them, anywhere from eleven to around thirteen years old, ended up joining those who hadn’t gone into season, along with those struck sterile, in the normal, rational transactions of the NalKuymal people. Certainly, neither Letta nor I were any of those.

Days passed; I never saw the outside of my clanhold. No one came to see why; they probably didn’t care. Then one morning, I felt… different. I was still interested in her, but it seemed I could think again. Why?

“You’re attached to me,” came the quiet reply, in Letta's low voice. “I have become pregnant, and instinctively, you know this. It happens."

I couldn’t help myself; in a strange way, I was still so human! “I’m sorry,” I said, “I never intended…."

“I’m not sorry,” she said, her tone amused, not angry (like she might have been). “I meant what I said before; you are worth marrying. Do you mind my taking matters into my own hands?"

“But why?” I asked. “Did you intend…"

“Of course; until your body’s responses started to affect me, I hadn’t been in season myself."

Well, it sometimes happened that a NalKuymal, thrown into season early, might “encourage” her partner, not yet fertile, to become this way. “You meant it,” I said flatly, as if I couldn’t believe it. “Am I such a good catch as that, Letta ?"

“Yes.” The word, said all by itself like that, nearly sounded like a triumphant shout, for all the fact that it was said so quietly. “I like you; you like me. You’re quite powerful; our talents are very compatible. I would have to call myself a fool not to take advantage of this time of year. I never expected to meet you, but now that I have, I would be a fool to walk away from it.” Lying next to me, she moved closer, and wrapped her legs around my own. “Do you not want me?” she asked me sweetly.

“I am no fool,” I said, my voice shaking, as though I were cold. “You are quite a treasure.” I moved closer to her as she had to me, and we fell asleep.

Of course, I married her, having finally understood Zafra's comments about Bonding, and the nature of such things. And the temple woman, summoned to the clanhold for my needs, had to see to someone else’s situation; Letta didn’t believe in sharing

Now it’s over. And yet the cycle never ends… as it should be. Letta and I became the proud parents of a silver-haired, green eyed daughter with golden bronze skin. We named her for Letta’s adjur:Kahletaar, which means twin-hawk (a kenning for the twin-headed phoenix of legend). Somehow, it seemed appropriate, for was I not once reborn? Mostly, she has her mother’s talents. And the cycle goes on…