OASIS

Oasis
         Aria and Raemus traveled north from Volaria, into the desert. There was an oasis there, about a two hour ride away, that Aria knew from her short and convoluted childhood. It was surrounded by mountains in a hidden valley that was said to be haunted. The lake there was fed from an underground spring that came down from high in the impassable Eastern Lonelies, which were undoubtedly haunted. The nomads didn’t go there from fear of spirits, and also because it was nearly impossible to get to. Aria had only stumbled on it accidentally, some time ago, while trying to get out of a sand storm, and finding the secret tunnel. She’d been afraid, at the time, to venture any further into the tunnel, but often wondered how different her life would have been if she had. The tunnel to the oasis was unfriendly, dark, and treacherous, but with a little light and a little help from her sure footed steed, the trip was well worth it.
         Raemus lifted his head to the west, whickering softly. He could smell the cool, clear water just on the other side of the sheer rock wall to their right. Aria patted his coal black neck and smiled.
         “We’re almost there.” Raemus nodded and navigated through the boulders that scattered the ground. Aria swore that he was more human than most of the people she knew, with the exception of David, of course.
         They came to a crack in the mountain, hidden behind some low, scrubby desert plants, and Aria jumped down. She didn’t bother holding his reins, because she knew he would never leave her. She stuck her fingers in the crack and pulled. A huge slab of rock, taller than either of them, swung easily outward, like a door on oiled hinges, and revealed the cave it protected. As she always did when coming here, Aria wondered if this was another of the elves fancy, otherworldly technology that they were always bragging about. She snorted and thought Cars and moving pictures. Really.
         Raemus did a little dance of joy as he trotted into the tunnel and Aria slid the rock back into place behind them. The cool, calm, darkness enveloped them. Aria climbed back up on Raemus’s back and lit her spark stick. The tiny glow didn’t extend beyond her hand, but she reached into her bag, brought out a glass ball, and put the spark inside. The oil in the ball lit, and they were immediately bathed in the warm, golden glow. A sweet, flowery breeze met them, tousling Raemus’s mane, and he began to carefully pick his way through the rocks. Suddenly, in mid step, he froze, nostrils flaring to catch a scent.
         “What is it?” Aria whispered. Raemus turned his head to left and inhaled deeply. Aria held up her ball of light, but it couldn’t quite penetrate into the deep corners of the cave. She could swear, though, that there was a figure lying prone on the ground. She slid down from Raemus’s back, and he whipped his head around, nearly knocking her off her feet.
         “Relax.” She patted his nose absently. In one hand she held the light, and the other rested on the hilt of her sword as she crept toward the figure, horse on her heels. There was a person there, a man, lying face down in the rubble, arms splayed as if he had fallen. He had no shirt, or shoes, only a pair of black riding pants that looked as if they’d seen better days. His skin was too light to be a nomad, though it was hard to tell with the angry red burn that covered most of it. His head was shaved, but not tattooed as a leader’s would be. Aria squatted a few feet from the man, Raemus hanging over her shoulder, ready to trample him if he tried anything funny.
         “Hello?” She asked quietly. The man didn’t stir. She couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not, so she scooted closer. “Hello?” She set the light on the ground by her boots and reached for the man’s neck. There was a pulse, albeit a faint one. He was very hot, and dry, and she pulled her hand away quickly.
         “He’s alive, but just barely.” Aria stood and reached into her bag, pulling out the canteen and a strip of cloth, which she soaked with the cold water. Squatting next to him again, she wondered how he had come to be there. Maybe he had been put there. He still hadn’t moved.
         “I’m going to put some water on you.” He didn’t stir. Aria placed the wet cloth on his head and sat down next to him. She didn’t think he was much of a threat, even if he sprang to his feet from the coolness of the water on his bald head. Aria looked up at Raemus, who was still agitated.
         “What do we do now?” The horse snorted; his answer, very clearly, was We leave him here, that’s what we do. He took a step back and turned.
         “No. Absolutely not.” The horse paused, then hung his head and turned back to his mistress. He knew her better than anyone, and he knew she wouldn’t leave this stranger to die alone. He rolled his eyes and lay down on his belly. Aria eyed him skeptically, then looked back at the man. He was very muscular, about five and a half feet tall, and she placed his weight at somewhere around 170 lbs. He still hadn’t moved, and Aria knew that the longer he laid there unconscious, the less likely he would be to survive. She sighed.
         “Well, at least come a little closer. I can’t drag him all the way over there.” Raemus narrowed his eyes at her, but he rose to his feet and came closer, nearly lying on the man. Aria stood and walked around them, looking at the problem from all angles. If she could lift his torso and drape it over the saddle, the rest of his body would be lifted when Raemus stood. Grabbing the man’s wrists, she pulled with all her strength. He moved slightly, but Aria grimaced when she heard the sound of his skin scraping on the pebbles beneath him. The poor guy would be skinned alive before he ever got on the horse. She gently put his arms back down and watched in fascination as the glaring white of her handprints slowly faded into the bright red of his skin. That gave her an idea.
         “This isn’t going to work.” Raemus snorted, as if to say I could have told you that. Aria braced herself to run or fight, and slapped the man on his broad back as hard as she could. He came to with a yell that sent Raemus to his feet in an instant. Aria watched the man carefully as he moaned and turned over on his side. He froze as their eyes met.
         “I’m sorry,” Aria said quietly, “but you have to get on my horse if you want to live.”
         “Water.” The man croaked, and closed his eyes. Aria opened the canteen and carefully crept to the man’s side. He opened his eyes again, and Aria felt a strange, unsettling shock fly up her spine. The man was very handsome, his eyes the color of the pumpkin moon. She held the canteen for him, and he stared at her as she dribbled water into the corner of his mouth.
         “Not too much. Not now. You have to get on the horse. I can take better care of you at the oasis.” She pulled the scrap of cloth off his head. It was already almost dry, so she poured more water on it and wiped his face. He shivered and gave a sigh of pleasure, reaching up to touch her hand. Aria paused, forcing her sword hand not to do its murderous job. The guy was obviously not trying to hurt her, he only wanted to touch the hand of his savior. As if he could read her mind, his cracked lips parted.
         “Angel.” He whispered. He was going out again.
         “Come on.” Aria grabbed his hand and pulled gently. “You have to try.” The man looked at Raemus and his eyes widened, but he put his hand on the ground and tried to push himself up.
         “I’ll help you.” Aria got her arms beneath his chest, as careful as she could to avoid his burns. He gasped, tried to get to get to his knees, and collapsed.
         “Can’t.” He groaned, and Aria cursed silently.
         “If you don’t get up, and get on my horse right now, I’m going to leave you here, and you’re going to die. I don’t want to do that, do you?” The man shook his head, and a small tear slipped down his cheek. Aria felt horrible, but there was no time to waste. “Now get up, and let’s go, and I won’t have to yell at you anymore.” She was very near tears herself. Something about the man made her hate herself for threatening to leave him. In a way, he reminded her of Derrick, David’s long dead brother.
         The man nodded, as if answering some inner question, and held out his hand to her. She took it in both her own, abandoning any thoughts of needing one hand for her sword. She pulled as hard as she could, and he practically flung himself at her. She caught and steadied him warily. He was taller than she’d first thought; her head barely came to his chest, and she was afraid he would topple over and kill her. There was no way she could keep him from falling now.
         “Oh, God,” she groaned. Luckily Raemus was right there, and Aria turned the man and pushed. He landed on the saddle dizzily, and Aria had to grab his hands again to keep him from keeling over backward. Once he was balanced, she grabbed his leg and threw it over Raemus’s neck. The man held on, but looked at her with his strange, beautiful eyes full of sorrow. Aria shook her head.
         “I’m not going to let you fall.” She hopped on behind him, ignoring his hiss of pain as she pressed herself to his burned skin. Raemus carefully rose to his feet, and the man swayed drunkenly in the saddle. Aria held tightly, whispering a little prayer. The tunnel ahead was at a 45 degree angle down, filled with treacherous loose rocks, and there was one place where Raemus had to jump. Aria sighed. They would just have to burn that bridge when they got there.
         As Raemus began the journey to the oasis, the man held on as well as he could. Aria poured more water on his head, trying desperately to lower his body temperature. He actually seemed to be cooling down a little, and was somewhat more responsive. They traveled on without talking, the only sound Raemus’s hooves, their mingled breathing, and the occasional sound of pebbles falling into unseen holes. A few minutes into the trek, Raemus stopped, turning his head to look at Aria. This was the spot where he had to jump. The crevasse was only about seven feet wide, but was deeper than any light could penetrate. If they fell, there would be no climbing out of that hole. Aria knew she would have to hold on to the man when they jumped, or he would surely fly out of the saddle, but she was worried about her horse having to make the jump with two people on his back. He tossed his head arrogantly, waiting for her command. She nodded in resignation and turned him. There was 10 feet of clear ground, to give them a running start. She could feel the man’s strength draining away as he struggled to stay conscious.
         “Stay awake.” She snapped. He jerked upright, hands clenching on the reins. “Let’s do this.” Raemus neighed loudly, echoing in the small space, and took off. Aria felt the man tense against her chest, felt the horse’s muscles bunch up beneath her, and prepared for the jump, wrapping both her arms around the stranger in front of her. They sailed through the air, landing cleanly on the other side, and the man stayed in the saddle. Now it was smooth sailing, a turn in the tunnel, and they walked out into bright sunshine. The man gasped and raised an arm to shield his eyes, swaying. Raemus quickly walked under the canopy of a huge desert palm and lay down again. Although Aria tried to get him down gently, the stranger fell, quite gracelessly, into a heap beneath the tree. Aria grimaced, but to her surprise, the man was looking up at her with a smile. He had nice, even, white teeth, and she couldn’t help but smile back at him. Raemus jumped up and shook himself, and Aria could tell that he wanted to swim in the cool lake. She untied the bags from his saddle, and then removed the saddle itself, and he kicked his heels in the air and ran, without a single glance backward. He wasn’t going to let anything ruin his vacation. Aria laughed and turned back to the man, who watched her silently. She hadn’t planned on nursing anyone back to health this week, but as the saying went, there would be water if God willed it. She sat down in the sand next to him, pulled out the canteen again, and held it to his lips. He let it run down his face for a moment before taking a drink. Aria tried to look out at the valley and watch Raemus splashing like a colt in the shallows of the lake, but she found herself studying the stranger’s face instead. He had a strong jaw with a short growth of dark stubble, his skin smooth and unlined. She watched the muscles of his neck pulse as he sipped at the water. He looked up, caught her staring at him, and smiled again, letting the water drip down his face and onto his chest. It was strange, but it seemed like his sunburn was already fading. She placed the bag of bedding beneath his head and sat back against the tree, closing her eyes. The cool air and shade, coupled with the sounds of Raemus playing in the water and physical exhaustion lulled her into a kind of trance, and she was surprised when she heard the man speak.
         “Who are you?” His voice was deep and raspy from dehydration. Aria opened her eyes. He was looking at her with a mixture of reverence and nausea.
         “My name is Aria. You should let your throat rest.” She closed her eyes again, and before she knew it, she’d drifted off into a dream.
         In the dream, she and Raemus were walking through the desert at night. The moon was huge and red, a bad omen if ever there was one, and suddenly they came upon a man kneeling in the sand. He looked familiar, but her sleeping mind couldn’t place him. He seemed to be praying, hands together in front of his chest, but as they approached, he stood, holding out his arms to them. Each hand glowed with violet flame, and a matching bonfire burned in the sand behind him. He bowed, saying nothing, and began to slowly dance around the fire. His body moved fluidly as he revolved and gyrated, and every time his hands came near the fire, purple and gold lightening shot from his palms and mingled with it. He danced with his eyes closed, never missing a step. As he came around in front of her, she became aware that he was humming, something unknown yet achingly familiar. Aria’s vision doubled as her eyes filled with tears, and she had to close them. Her heart felt like it would burst in her chest, her breathing ragged. She wondered why the song made her feel like dying and singing at the same time. She wondered if maybe her mother had hummed this same song to her in the cradle. She would only have had a short time to sing it. Suddenly a cold wind blew through her, and she snapped her eyes open. The man had ended his strange dance, and was smiling up at her, arms open. Aria wiped the tears from her face, but couldn’t bring herself to smile back. The man spoke.
         “It is the song of life; inexplicably beautiful and heartbreaking, at once. You must learn the words, my precious one.” With that, he took one step backward, into the fire. Aria started to jump down and pull him from it, but before she could do anything, he was consumed with purple flame, which dissipated with the passing breeze. The fire was gone, had never been there, it seemed, but her ears were filled with the song, her heart full of anguish for the loss of him. Silly, she thought. She didn’t even know who he was, but his leaving had created a chasm within her. She burst into tears, in the middle of the desert, and felt somehow comforted when the coyotes began to howl with her.

         Aria awoke with a start. Someone was tapping on her arm and saying her name. She reached for her sword before she had a chance to register where she was or who she was with. Her eyes opened, met the stranger’s, and she relaxed. He had one hand on her arm, the canteen in the other, and his expression was worried. Aria leaned back against the palm tree, and was surprised to feel warm, moist trails down her face. She touched her cheek and her fingers came away wet with tears, which she swiped away angrily, and shrugged the man’s hand off her arm. He lay back, sipping from the canteen, watching Aria carefully. Her eyes, which were usually a spectacular amethyst, were stormy and dark, almost black. She’d been crying in her dream, calling out for someone, begging them not to leave. Her horse had seemed to hear her, and he came over to stand beside her. Aria blinked, seemed to come back to herself, and used the stallion’s long black mane to pull herself to her feet. She held out her hand for the canteen, and when he handed it to her, she started walking toward the lake, the horse at her side. The stranger marveled at her control of the steed; it seemed like he understood everything she said, and cared about her feelings. Watching the two of them splash in the water with something like envy, he was afraid that he’d already become helplessly attached to his beautiful, mysterious rescuer. Something had clicked inside him, close to death as he was, when their eyes had met the first time, something ancient and overpowering. The sense that she was his destiny was overwhelming. He saw her start to turn her head toward him, and he quickly looked away, up at the canopy of lacy leaves above him. A moment later, he heard her footsteps approaching, and closed his eyes.
         Aria’s shadow fell across the stranger.
         “Here’s some more water.” She said, leaning over to hand him the canteen. In her hand was a bouquet of small yellow flowers with long, stringy stems. As he took the water from her, she sat down and began plucking the petals. He thought of the old children’s game of She loves me, she loves me not, and he must have had a strange expression because she laughed.
         “Butterbomb.” She explained, rummaging in her bag. She came out with a square, silver tray. “The flowers are poison, but the stems make a tea that will give you energy and help you heal faster.” She looked up at him and paused in crushing the long green stems, slightly bewildered. His sunburn seemed to be almost completely gone, leaving his skin with a healthy golden glow. He continued to watch her silently, constantly sipping water. Aria shook her head and started smashing the stems in earnest, creating a puddle of dark green liquid in the center of her mirror-like tray. When she was done with that, she reached into the bag again, this time retrieving a small tin cup. The man made a sound which could have been a laugh and Aria cocked her eyebrow at him. He was smiling.
         “Is there anything you don’t have in there?” He asked quietly. Aria shook her head.
         “I had an elf for a teacher. We believe in being prepared.” She scraped the green goo into the cup and took the canteen from him, mixing water with the crushed stems and swirling it around.
         “What does it taste like?” He wrinkled his lip in disgust when she handed it to him. He caught a whiff of the bitter scent and felt his stomach roll. Aria shrugged.
         “I guess you’ll find out, huh? Bottoms up.” She made a drinking gesture and grinned. The man rolled his eyes and tossed the concoction down his throat, completely prepared to throw it back up. He was startled when it went down and all he tasted was the sweetness of fresh, warm milk. His heart immediately began to race, and he sat up, much more abruptly than he meant to. Little silver stars danced in his vision as he swayed, body tingling. Aria reached over and steadied him, smiling.
         “I might have made that one a little strong.” The smile faded as they studied each other, face to face, in silence. Finally, she cleared her throat let go of his arm.
         “So,“ she said nonchalantly, “you know my name…” The sentence trailed off into a question. For some reason, she couldn’t seem to look away from his unblinking eyes. She could see now that they weren’t orange, but gold, with little flecks of black and brown. Her stomach felt funny. She took the cup from him, pulling her gaze away from his, and began crushing up more of the stems to make herself some tea.
         “What do you want to call me?”
         Aria coughed and felt her cheeks grow red, which infuriated her. She’d had to literally bite her tongue to keep from blurting out ‘Derrick’. The stems were reduced to a smear in her angry hands.
         “I want to call you Jackass, for some reason.” She growled. A shadow of a smile touched the corners of the man’s lips.
         “Close. It’s Brynn. I can see where there might be some confusion.” He held out his hand to her, and she took it hesitantly, wondering at how it swallowed hers. And yes, the sunburn was definitely gone now, had left without a trace. Brynn brushed his lips over her knuckles, a twist on a polite, customary gesture, sending a chill up Aria’s spine that caused her to snatch her hand from his. She poured water into the cup and swirled the mixture around before belting it back. Brynn watched as her pupils dilated, turning her eyes once again to a turbulent, near black. Aria stood, in one fluid motion, and walked away quickly. Walking up to another palm, she looked up into its giant fronds and after standing there for a moment, she grabbed the trunk and shimmied up the tree like it was nothing. Brynn had to shield his sensitive eyes from the glaring, late afternoon sun to watch her as she began to chop the huge leaves from the plant with her sword. They fell to the ground below in graceful arcs, until there was a good four foot pile beneath. Aria sheathed her sword and made sure it was tied down, and then jumped into the pile of leaves with a yell. Brynn laughed in surprise, but had to take a sip of water before it dissolved into a cough. His new companion was a steady stream of interesting, it seemed. She began collecting the palm fronds and dragging them to their little camp site, but they were so big that she could only carry two at a time. The first pile she made right beside him, and when it was several leaves thick she held out her hand to him.
         “Most comfortable bed you’ll ever sleep in.” She said quietly. He took her hand and scooted onto the makeshift cot. She was right; it was the most comfortable bed he’d ever had, and it smelled citrusy, like lemons. Aria began to build her own bed, several feet away from his. When that was laid out, she began to dig a shallow hole in the sand between them, and lined it with fist sized rocks. Brynn saw she was slick with sweat and felt a pang of guilt. She shouldn’t be taking care of him. He started to get to his knees, but Aria pushed him back with a frown.
         “Let me help.”
         “No. I’m almost done, anyway.” She took a long drink from the canteen and set off again, this time to gather firewood. Soon Aria returned with a pile of sticks, bark, and dried out palm leaves, which she threw in the little hole she’d made, before sitting back down. Wiping sweat from her forehead with an arm, she took another drink. Brynn stared at her until she turned to him angrily.
         “What?”
         “Please let me do something.” He sat back up, more carefully this time. The light was fading fast, and with the coming night a chill breeze blew. He shivered involuntarily.
         “You can sit there and stop bugging me. That would be something.” Their eyes met again, and she almost smiled at him, but not quite. Instead, she pulled out her little spark stick again, to make the fire.
         “Wait.” He grabbed her wrist, and she tensed. “This I can do.” He placed his palms together and closed his eyes. Aria sighed. Maybe she could just light it while his eyes were closed…
         To her amazement, his hands began to glow with a golden light. He reached out to the pile of kindling, palms down, and very gently touched the topmost branch. It began smoldering, and a few seconds later, their fire was blazing. When Brynn opened his eyes, he was delighted to see Aria staring into the fire, mouth agape. She looked over at him slowly, realized her mouth was open and snapped it shut. She had an expression of childlike wonder for a second before the more familiar mysterious cynicism returned, and Brynn thought I did that to her.
         “Who are you really?” Aria asked Brynn, who was no longer the stranger. He smiled with his heart thumping painfully in his chest.
         “I’m just Brynn.” His voice was thick, so Aria passed him the canteen, thinking his throat was dry. He took it gratefully and tipped it back, feeling silly and sentimental. He was not a person who succumbed so easily to the opposite sex, but she had him hooked, innocence masquerading as a warrior. He had no doubt she could fillet him in an instant, but he had an idea it would be like getting slaughtered by a bunny, confusing and unexpected. She was so sweet, yet there was such a volatile spirit lurking beneath her cool exterior. He wanted to know all there was to know about her.
         The fire was warm as the day quickly slipped away. Raemus came out of the dark like a ghost, to stand by his mistress, who found a parsimmon apple in her bag. The horse chewed thoughtfully on it while staring at Brynn, who stared back.
         “He’s a magnificent stallion.” He told Aria. Gazing into the golden flames he had conjured, she agreed with a barely perceptible nod.
         “He was a gift from…a friend.” Aria took a sip of water from the canteen. The Butterbomb tea had worn off in the middle of foraging for wood, and she was exhausted. The flames were playing tricks on her mind, and something was gnawing at the back of her thoughts like a weasel. Something to do with a dream.
         “A good friend?” Brynn asked, nonchalantly lying back on his bed of leaves, arms crossed beneath his head, looking up at the vast expanse of space. The stars were fantastic, inconceivable in number, and so bright that the fingernail half moon was dimmed. After a few moments of marveling at this beauty, he realized that Aria hadn’t answered, and turned slightly to look at her. She was glaring back, brows furrowed.
         “Yes, a good friend. The same friend who set me free.” Aria pulled down the high collar of her black dragonscale armor and leaned forward. Brynn sat up, squinting through the smoke. She had a slave tattoo encircling her throat, but there was a sword cutting through one side of the barbed wire, changing her from slave to citizen. Brynn was horrified by the sight of it. He knew what slaves went through, had fought against owning them in his homeland. Meeting her eyes with his own, he watched the anger from moments before soften and disappear as she pulled her collar back up and sat back.
         “Don’t feel sorry for me.” She warned. Raemus turned and touched her face with his, an incredibly tender gesture for a horse to make. Aria closed her eyes and nuzzled the stallion. “My friend was a king. My life has been very rich and very…rewarding.” She nodded and opened her eyes, looking up at the same sky that had fascinated Brynn.
         “Is there anything else you’d like to know?”
         “I’d like to know everything.”
         Something in the tone of his voice made her snap her gaze away from the heavens. He was up on one elbow, his strange, golden eyes intense, locked on her. He seemed so sincere in his desire to know her, she felt a bizarre warmth flood her stomach, and suddenly, all she could see were his eyes. Aria felt wholly connected to him at that moment, connected to everything, the stars, the breeze that blew through her ethereal body, even the lemony leaves beneath her. As suddenly as it came on, it vanished, and she blinked, laughing shakily.
         “Please.” She giggled and rolled over, away from the fire. “That’s not very nice. I’m going to sleep now.” She didn’t want him to see the way that all the blood had drained from her face. For that one moment, she’d felt truly important, completely treasured by a universe she thought had forgotten her. A tear trickled down her cheek. The dream she’d had earlier seemed more pertinent than ever. If only she could remember it.
         “I was serious.” She heard him mumble from the other side of the fire, but pretended not to hear. Staring out at the darkened water, she waited for the telltale sound of Brynn lying back down, and after a few moments, she heard him rustling around in his bed of leaves. After what seemed like hours, his breathing began to slow, becoming deep and even as he finally fell asleep. Aria quietly got to her feet and stretched. She felt hollow and alone, and the exhaustion was gone, whisked away on a breeze, replaced with a bitter wakefulness. The mountains that protected the serene oasis crowded in, making her feel claustrophobic, and she silently cursed this man who made her head spin and changed her perception of heaven. Aria stripped off her armor, leaving on the thin, sleeveless cotton shirt and underwear, and ran to the water. In all the excitement, she’d forgotten to bathe. She didn’t bother testing the water, just dove in, head first. As Aria surfaced, she thought about diving into things. Always head first. Maybe that’s not so wise, little one. It was funny how advice to herself always took on the voice of Phillipe, her mentor, former General of Volaria’s army. Hearing his voice in her head filled her with longing. She really missed him. This vacation was turning out to be not so relaxing.
              As her head broke the waters surface and she wiped her face, she saw that Raemus had come to stand at the edge of the lake. He watched her with a solemn, sad expression, head down, and whickered softly. His expression filled Aria’s heart with a nameless, senseless sorrow. Her eyes filled with tears, and she wanted to comfort her friend, but was enraged by her inability to place the emotion. Angrily, she dove down again, as deep as she dared. The light from the stars would not penetrate that deeply; she was surrounded by warm, black silence. Aria waited until her lungs burned and her heart throbbed in her temples before heading back to the surface. The horse stood there as before, but when he saw her come back up, he turned and slowly walked back toward the guttering campfire. He looked once over his shoulder and swished his tail. After a moment, Aria sighed and pulled herself from the enticing womblike warmth of the water. She knew she had to build up the fire or it would gutter out completely. The wind that raked her body was cold as she pulled on her armor and riding pants and began to gather more wood and leaves. Brynn hadn’t moved; he appeared to be deep in sleep, but when she dropped an armful of sticks on the fire and it crackled, and grew, he threw an arm over his face to block the light, and continued his deep, even breathing. Now Aria’s exhaustion was returning, creeping in like a thief, and she sat down on her makeshift bed, next to where Raemus stood. She looked up at him, and he looked back dolefully.
         “What?” She hissed. This was the first time she could remember being short with him. “What is your problem?” Raemus whistled quietly, and Aria instantly regretted her anger. She dug into one of the bags, pulled out a handful of parsimmon apples, and laid them at the stallion’s hooves. He looked into her eyes for a moment before stretching his neck down and crunching into an apple. Aria’s stomach growled, but she felt detached, distanced from her own body. This trip was supposed to have been about relaxing, unwinding, and finding herself, but it had turned into questioning and unnamed, pointless emotions coming from God only knew where. She felt sad and angry and she didn’t know why. Even her horse was sorrowful and not himself. It was ridiculous. Aria made a decision as she combed her hair out by the fire. As soon as Brynn was well enough to travel, she was leaving. He could come along if he wanted, but if not, she would bid him goodbye.
         Raemus munched his apples in quiet contemplation and watched his mistress. Her state of mind constantly worried him. She could go from perfectly content to furious in record speed. Always concerned with others, she was, and it took a heavy toll on her health, though she didn’t realize it. It terrified him to think that she might become enraged and never come back; she would just take her fury with her to the bottom of the sea. At present, he felt a deep confusion, mixed with anger and sadness, but also an all encompassing wave of love, which formed a troubled, tangled web over her whole being. Raemus wished he could do something for her, but he supposed that being there to watch and protect her was all he could do. She deserved some kind of peace of mind, some kind of temporary sanity. He walked away to the waters edge, to get a drink and think of some way to help her.
         

         Aria sat cross legged beside the fire, eyes squinting through the smoke, watching Brynn as he slept. He was a mystery, and he evoked curious feelings within her. She loved David with all of her being, would never leave him unless forced, but she was beginning to fill with a tenderness for Brynn, a closeness that made no sense. She wanted to reach out and brush the clinging grains of sand from his tan skin, maybe curl up against his warm back and feel safe for just a little while, but as she contemplated doing that, she couldn’t help but feel she was betraying David. His sweet azure eyes haunted her, and even though he didn’t feel the same as she, there was no one else in the world for her. Or was there?
She gave no indication of how unnerved she was when she suddenly realized that he was watching her, a slight smile on his face. Once again, she wondered where he’d come from, what circumstance had led to their meeting. Without thinking, the words came out of her mouth.
            “Where are you from?” The smile slid from his lips, and he sat up to face her across the fire.
            “I was born in Meadorr. My father was Captain of the Queen’s Army.” Brynn looked down at the palms of his hands, and for the first time, Aria noticed how scarred they were. They were crisscrossed with angry lumps and gouges, but she didn’t find them ugly; in fact, she felt a rush of affection, followed closely by rage, for whoever had done it to him. Brynn caught her angry expression and picked up a rock, rolling it between his palms. “When I was twelve, one of the stable boys knocked over a lamp and started a fire. My father rushed in to save the horses, but he didn’t care about the boy. I went in to try and save him.” Brynn paused, looking down so Aria couldn’t see his face. “His name was Jobe. He was my friend.” He said quietly. Aria was half hypnotized by the flames, and her anger, and she was startled when he spoke again.
            “I wasn’t able to save him, and my father was angry that I’d wasted my efforts on him. We lost three horses, and he blamed it on me. I left that night and never looked back.” Now his voice was so low and deep, she didn’t so much hear it as feel it in her chest. “I should have been able to save him. The fire shouldn’t have hurt me, but it did. I think the Gods marked me so I would always remember.” He looked up at her sharply. “It shouldn’t have hurt me. I have…powers.”
            “Powers.” Aria whispered, still transfixed by the flames and the deep, rolling rumble of his voice. “What kind of powers?”
            Brynn smiled, amused at the way she sounded like an innocent child at a magic show. Her eyes were dark, and he had the feeling she was somewhere else entirely. He was so charmed by her, he let down his guard, and snapped his fingers together, producing a tiny, brilliant purple flame. It danced between his fingers, reflecting in Aria’s fathomless eyes. She didn’t move, but a minute smile graced her beautiful lips.
          “How do you do that?” She was hunched over, arms wrapped around her legs, chin resting on her knees. She reached out slowly to touch the flame, and Brynn quickly snuffed it out. Aria frowned and seemed to come back to herself. The familiar, distrustful look was in her eyes, and he hated himself for putting it there.
          “It’s real fire, my dear. It burns hotter than you can imagine.” Brynn reached out his scarred hand to hers, taking it gently, disgusted by his deformity. “It was a gift from the Queen, when I was born. She held me in her arms and blessed me, protecting me from those who would seek to cause harm.” He smiled at the thought of the elven Queen cradling him. “She’d just lost one of her own, but she never lost hope.”
        “So what does it do, beside start bonfires?”
        Brynn stood with a flourish, and Aria marveled at his movements. If she hadn’t found him herself, she never would have believed that he had been dying in a cave earlier that day.
        “Madame,” he bowed to her and held out his arms to either side, upper body glowing gold in the flamelight. Aria was in awe, despite herself, and even Raemus was curious, and came out of the dark to watch this spectacle. “And Monsieur,” Brynn amended, bowing to the horse as well. Raemus and Aria shared a look that said He’s lost his mind. Aria laughed and patted his head as he lay down beside her.
        “Prepare to be astonished and enlightened, as the Amazing Brynn Torr attempts his latest magical feat.” He clapped his hands once, making Aria jump, and then he leaned in close to her. “Watch carefully.” She could feel the heat radiating from his skin, hotter than the fire. She stared at his hands as he held them out, and suddenly, with a smile, he burst into flames. Aria gasped and jumped to her feet, reaching for the canteen to put him out, but through the flames, which were slightly green, he grinned and waved a finger at her in an uh, uh, uh kind of gesture. Brynn spun around and jumped into the air, and Poof! He was gone.
Aria realized that her hands were at her mouth, holding in a scream, maybe, and that she hadn’t breathed in a few. She dropped her hands and took in a great, deep breath, and as she exhaled she said “Holy shit.”
        Raemus was on his feet behind her, very alarmed at the man’s disappearance, and was quite surprised when someone slapped him on the rump from behind. He spun, and reared, ready to trample, but it was Brynn, a wide smile on his handsome face. 
      “Whoa.” Brynn said quietly, patting the horse. He smelled slightly charred, but other than that, he seemed to be feeling even better than before he disappeared in a puff of slightly green tinged smoke. Aria clapped her hands together in delight and awe, and came around to inspect him.
      “Where did you go?” She asked, examining his skin and his worn leather pants. Brynn shrugged.
        “I’m not sure. I was just hoping I’d come back somewhere close. And soon.” He frowned. “Once, I came back and ten years had gone by, but it felt like only a moment to me. I’ve been practicing, though, and I think I’m getting better.” He took her hand as she looked into his golden eyes. His heart was pounding in his ears, and his stomach was rolling. It had nothing to do with his neat trick, but everything to do with Aria’s maddening amethyst eyes, so light they were almost lavender. She was so close, he could see hidden flecks of emerald green floating in them, and he had a sudden sense of déjà vu that threatened to sweep him away. Suddenly, he did what no one else had had the courage to do. Brynn took advantage of Aria’s astonishment and swept her into his arms, kissing her deeply. He wasn’t surprised at all when she pulled away and slapped him, but he was surprised to see a grin slowly surface, and a crimson blush crept out of the collar of her armor.
        “So if the fire doesn’t hurt you, how did you get that awful burn? Is that how you got in the cave? Did you come back there?” She was too amazed to be angry about the kiss, and he gave himself a mental high five for catching her at the right moment.
        “The sun can burn me. I was left in the desert to die, actually, tied to a rock, but after a couple of days, I worked myself free.” The carefree smile fell from his lips in an instant, his eyes hardening glittering specks. “I could smell the water. I could hear it. I just couldn’t get to it. I thought I was going to either die, or go crazy, and then I found the cave. I don’t remember anything after that.” Brynn ran a hand over the top of his skull in irritation. Aria’s expression was an interesting mix of fear, distrust, and amazement.
      “Who left you in the desert? What did you do?” At this, Brynne shook off the black cloud that had suddenly stolen upon him and laughed.
      “It was worth it. I’ve been traveling with a group of nomads for the past year, they call themselves ‘Ravage’. Assholes.” He shook his head. “I was setting slaves free. Sometimes I’d free two or three in a single day, and for a year, they had no idea how they kept getting away. One of them turned on me, though. Seems she had a thing going with the tribal leader.” Suddenly, his eyes narrowed, and cocked his head at her. “Why? What did you think I did?”
        “Well, how am I supposed to know? You could be a murderer, for all I know.” Aria’s hand fell to the hilt of her sword, to underline her point. Brynne glared at her, but couldn’t keep a straight face, and turned away, laughing.
        “Yeah, right. I seem like a murderer, do I?” He walked over to his bed and sat down, clearly amused. Aria and Raemus exchanged a glance before the stallion turned and walked away nonchalantly, as if to say I trust him, and Aria shrugged and sat down on her own little pile of leaves. She reached into a saddle bag and pulled out a bundle, tightly wrapped in leather. Brynne’s mouth began to water as he recognized the smell of meat. Another, smaller, bundle turned out to be a loaf of bread. 
      “How many slaves did you free?” She held them just out of his reach. Brynne’s jaw dropped in mock disbelief.
        “Are you threatening me?”
        Aria’s graceful brow arched as if he’d suggested she eat a rock.
        “No…” She handed him a chunk of bread and two big pieces of dried deer meat. “I just want to know how many slaves you freed.”
        Brynne chewed contemplatively before answering. Finally, he said, “Around four hundred.” Aria almost choked on her mouthful of bread.
        “Four hundred?” She coughed, grabbed the canteen and tilted it to the sky. When she stopped sputtering and met his eyes, hers were brimming with tears, but he couldn’t tell if they were from sentiment or choking.
      “That’s fantastic!” Her voice was raspy. “I’m sorry I threatened you.” A huge smile suddenly lit her face, the kind of smile he’d been wanting to see this whole time, and his heart literally skipped a beat. He smiled back, feeling giddy and numb.
      “That’s alright.” He heard himself say. Aria packed away her food and gave Brynne the canteen. He still felt tingly, like his whole body was waking, and he couldn’t seem to look away from her face. The smile still played around the edges of her lips as she lay down on her side, one arm under her head like a pillow.
      “I guess you’re an okay guy, Brynne.” Another wave of numbness rolled across his body, making him shiver as it raced up his spine. She hadn’t said his name since they’d met. She closed her eyes, and still he couldn’t look away, enchanted by a single word. Surely she was some kind of witch, with some pretty tricks of her own.