***
Kiethara opened her eyes. For some strange reason, she felt very alert. Alert, but not motivated to get out of her hammock. The sun warmed her skin in such a way that it caused her to want nothing more than to rock in her hammock for the rest of time.
She pursed her lips as she walked back and forth in the morning sun. Navadar had not remained long after their visit to the grave. Whether it was his reaction to her reaction to his words, or his sorrow for revisiting the memory of Trinnia, or his new commitments to his father, it had not ended on a happier note than it had started on. Frankly, she wondered if they could ever meet each other without a note of sorrow again.
She let out a soft sigh. She could not spend the next couple of months brooding over him until he came to visit next.
Now that she was finally alone in the forest again—it had been a full two days with company, reminding her of the strenuous time that she had had in the kingdoms—she could start thinking about what needed to be thought of. How would Gandador react to the news that she had killed his last pawn that he had sent on his ridiculous capture-the-guardian attempt? If he received the news, of course. Would he react right away, this time to take her life instead of her powers? Or would a possible fear keep him away for a good long while as he hatched some new far-fetched scheme?
All these questions bounced around in her skull. Hundreds upon hundreds of possibilities, all depending on thousands of different variables. The best she could do was be prepared—a tactic Aaron had done well to drill into her mind.
She was missing two of her original four potions. One of them she no longer had to worry about. That tiny golden potion had never served her and she doubted she would fall deathly ill any time soon. The other, however, she felt vulnerable without. She had used it twice and it had certainly saved her from a great deal of pain. She needed to remake it, today.
As far as training went, she might want to review some of her key lessons…sword lessons, the elements…Kiethara also wanted to discuss her newly discovered shield technique. Two shields at the same time should earn her some sort of praise from Aaron.
The idea of relaxing any longer was impossible; her pondering had stressfully reminded her of everything that needed to be done. Resentfully, she pulled herself out of the hammock and the warm sun she was bathing in and onto her feet.
After a quick stop to take a quick drink and to relieve herself, she headed towards the center of the forest.
“Good morning!” she called, flinging her arms wide. The shining, almost shimmering air of the clearing was catching, the sun only making it more inviting. It lightened her mood considerably.
“Good morning, Kiethara,” Aaron’s quiet yet powerful voice said, appearing to her left. The bright sun made him seem even dimmer in comparison.
“They’re all gone,” she sighed happily. It surprised her; she was usually longing for company.
Aaron chuckled. “Not becoming a hermit, I hope?”
“How in the world can you ask that question when we live in a forest that almost all of the world’s population is afraid to come near?”
“I thought you liked guests.”
“I enjoy having a guest,” she corrected. “Not two guests and an adversary.”
“A bit overwhelming?”
“Overwhelming?” she asked with a laugh. She knew Aaron was letting her vent, but she could not stop herself. “Navadar’s timing is truly incredible! If he doesn’t show up at the worst time, he doesn’t show up at all. Markii practically saves my life, and then he gets jumped by Navadar! Now here Navadar is, coming back for the first time after Trinnia’s death, to all this…Not to mention I just added another body to the soil of this forest. Thank goodness Markii didn’t tell me where he buried him, or there would be a new area of the forest where I couldn’t go!”
She took a breath. Should she tell Aaron about her new physiological fear of her mother’s clearing? She had barely been able to walk with Navadar yesterday.
Aaron, as always, seemed to know what she was thinking.
“It is not really surprising that Trinnia’s death has affected you as so,” he said gently.
“I’ve experienced death before,” she muttered.
“Yes,” he agreed. “But not like this. First, you can remember it. Second, you physically saw it. The way Gandador killed the poor girl was not very clean, either. No doubt it scarred you in some form or matter.”
“I can’t stop dreaming about it,” she admitted.
“As unfortunate as it might sound, that’s to be expected. Your mind—mentally—is dealing with the images while your heart is dealing with the grief.”
The fact that Aaron knew all of this did not surprise her; he was usually an expert on everything and anything.
“How can I stop them?” she asked in a whisper.
“By accepting it,” he said.
“Accepting it?” she asked, slightly annoyed. “She’s dead. What’s to accept?”
“When you went to the grave yesterday, you thought you were going as support for Navadar. But we both knew that if he had not been there, you would have never gone. You were leaning on him just as much as he was leaning on you.”
Kiethara fidgeted as her frustration mounted. She did not like being told she had any type of dependency.
“Trust me, if you can get yourself to go down by yourself, the dreams might lessen.”
“I already went,” she practically hissed. “With or without Navadar, it makes no difference. It’s Gandador’s fault—”
“What’s his fault?” Aaron interrupted in a polite tone. She stared at him blankly.
“Everything,” she answered slowly. Surely Aaron already knew that?
“But why is it Gandador’s fault that you’re having dreams about Trinnia?”
“He killed her!” she said loudly. Aaron was playing with her.
“Oh, and that itself is making you have these dreams?”
It took her a minute to understand what he was asking.
“He killed her right in front of me…gruesomely,” she added.
“That would explain one or two nightmares,” he reasoned. “Not reoccurring dreams. Why do you keep having them?”
“I don’t know!” she cried, exasperated.
“You keep thinking about it,” he offered as an answer.
She frowned. “Maybe…”
“Why do you keep thinking about it?”
“Because I…” she paused, and then swallowed. “I won’t let it go.”
“Exactly,” Aaron said. If he had any features, she knew he would be smiling in triumph. “Trinnia came to you to apologize. A great way to accept it would be to go visit her on your own time with your own motives.”
She pursed her lips, thinking, but there was no way to get around his logic. She took a breath through her nose, gathering strength to leave, but then Aaron’s voice rang out.
“Hold on for a moment, Kiethara,” he said, his tone souring in disapproval. She turned back around, confused.
“Oh?”
“There’s something I would like to discuss,” he said calmly, but she could sense a storm brewing under his demeanor.
“Yes?”
“Yesterday, you decided to give away a very valuable potion to a boy who didn’t need it.”
Kiethara let out a small gasp of comprehension before flinching. She had failed to remember what she had done and prepare herself for his reaction. And now she must suffer the consequences; however, she felt that she had good reasons behind her actions.
“He didn’t need it, but Durga did!” she said angrily.
“How do you know that?”
“What?” she asked. “What bizarre theory are you on about now?”
“What if he predicted that you were going to do something like that and then made up some ludicrous tale that Durga was sick just so he could get his hands on something?”
“Well, then, congratulations to him!” she cried, throwing her arms
up. “He has a potion that can do nothing but heal an illness. I shudder when I think about the amount of havoc he’ll wreck with that.”
“Have you taken the time to really consider the possible consequences?” he asked.
“What possible consequences could there be?”
“First, he leaves you one potion short. Whether you think an illness is a serious matter or not, it can still kill you. You’re not invincible, Kiethara.”
“Honestly, Aaron, the chances—”
“That you’ll survive for very long without the potion if you do get deathly ill are very slim,” he injected, cutting across her. “And that’s not all. He could figure out how to make it for himself, or he could sell it. If it gets publicly known in the kingdoms that you can cure disease, well, that could be very bad.”
“How so?” she demanded.
“Think about it, Kiethara, that potion is beyond what anybody can do. If people get a whiff of it…you really don’t understand. Disease kills loved ones, tears apart families…If people knew that you could stop all that horror they would flock to the forest! Could you imagine the millions of people, all driven by desperation, stamping into the forest and demanding that you make that potion?”
Kiethara gulped, but made no response.
“It would be a mess of panic, not to mention complete chaos. The forest would be torn apart in the process and Gandador would see it as a perfect opportunity to attack. You would be overwhelmed by a mob and then crushed by your opponent.”
Aaron’s words were followed by a heavy silence. All of that…just because she gave away a simple potion?
“That seems a bit extreme. I mean, a potion…” she muttered.
“Next time, Kiethara, please think before you make such a decision,” he told her in a worn voice.
“Yes, Aaron,” she replied in a subdued voice.
“Thank you.”
“Tired of me yet?” she asked with a wry smile.
“Ah, you know I could never be tired of you,” he sighed. “Gandador, perhaps…”
“You hate him to?” she asked eagerly.
“Hate? Maybe…” he mused. “He is not making my life—if we dare call it that—or my descendant’s life any easier. He’s fighting so hard to take what is rightfully mine away from my line. Hate is such a petty word, though.”
“Well, I hate him,” she said defiantly. “With a passion.”
“Don’t let hate cloud your judgment,” he warned.
“Judgment? I already know what he is!”
“I doubt Gandador knows what he is anymore,” Aaron said rather darkly.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I suppose we’ll find out soon enough,” he continued cagily.
“Fine,” she said coolly, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t tell me.”
“Anything else, Kiethara?” he asked, a smile in his voice.
“Yes,” she sighed. She didn’t want to discuss things with Aaron anymore, but her curiosity needed to be quenched.
“Oh?”
“Yesterday I put up two shields at the same time,” she explained. “How did I manage that?”
“Ah, yes,” Aaron said. “That was certainly impressive, Kiethara. I do not think any other guardian has ever become this accomplished at their shield.”
“Truly?” she asked. “I’m the only one?”
“Truly,” he said.
A feeling of immense satisfaction filled her. Becoming a full-time guardian at the age of three had not exactly given her the hope that she would accomplish anything outstanding. Her guidance came from the dead, whose appearances were becoming less and less frequent, not a parent who could be there at every moment.
Her story was pitiful, but according to Aaron, her magic was not.
“How you did it, I can’t say for sure,” he continued, “You were afraid, and I also think you were torn. Torn by your fear for both of the boys. That resulted in the two shields, I suppose.”
“Brilliant,” she said with a grin.
“It is,” Aaron agreed. “I want you to practice with this. Use trees as objects to shield, and every time you do it, switch to trees farther and farther apart.”
“Aren’t you going to train me with this?” she asked him, confused. Aaron always instructed her when she learned a new skill.
“Not this time, Kiethara. I think you’ll be able to handle this on your own,” Aaron hedged, seeming to shift uncomfortably.
Her earlier annoyance at Aaron flared up again. He became secretive at the most random of times, with no obvious pattern between the different topics. She could make neither rhyme nor reason out of it, but what she did know for certain was that Aaron still had things he was hiding. Her only question was whether it would come to haunt her as much as his previous one had.
“Well, then,” she said. “I’ll go handle it on my own, I suppose…”
“Do not forget to make your potions,” he continued as though he had not heard her. “Or potion, considering you only have one bottle now.”
“Good day, Aaron,” she muttered irritably, walking out of the clearing without a backwards glance. Was the only thing he could do was give her orders?
She stomped off back to her own clearing, her crystals glowing brightly.
Fine, she thought darkly, leave me to train on my own and brood over your snide hints. I’ll just follow along with a happy little smile and perform your orders like a faithful pet!
She reached her clearing and let out a small huff. She had to let go of her petty anger and realize what was important. Aaron had advised her to go visit Trinnia, and make a potion…
She looked off towards the west, where her mother’s meadow lay. Her navy blue eyes reflected on the view, delineating the staid image of the cherry blossom tree…and then she decided to throw herself down into the sun and close her eyes to the world around her.