A Little Magic Carefully Applied

Ba'sir stood in the shadow of a building and waited. The cold made his thin form shiver, the chill seeping beneath his hooded robe and ebony fur. The strong wind whipped the end of his braided black-white mane, which emerged from his cowl like a serpent. Darkness reigned again, with only the tightly packed buildings providing the scant candlelight that spilt into the maze of alleyways that divided the king's city. A few inquiries here and there; gems passing greedy hands; that was all that was required for his trap to be set for the mountain tiger chieftain. Having gained his enemy's name from his espionage increased his confidence. Ra'ri'trin will come, Ba'sir decided with certainty. Myr'an'dra will have her vengeance, and I will solve a mystery that has concerned me.

The jan'nirri female still slept in a cottage by the sea, her body healing from the vicious damage it had taken from the assassins sent to kill her. He had slept by her side on a wide soft bed until the many hours of sunlight had passed, and darkness once again reigned. Once he had awakened, he had considered his next action carefully. He had cried his desire to the sky, hoping that a mysria'savi, a floating cloud, would hear his plea. An atdira'savi, a being of the earth, had answered his prayer instead.

Zak'shan had taken his place guarding Myr'an'dra. The assistance had allowed him to return to the city. Perhaps the pantheress would not approve of his actions, but he had helped to save her life. She owed a debt to him, and this was how he had chosen to collect it.

The scent of spiced meat wafted into the alley. He had not eaten for some time, and was hungry. No meal until this is over, he thought, listening carefully for the footfalls of the enemy he sought. Your day will be most unpleasant, Ra'ri'trin, Ba'sir mused. You do not yet know that your two assassins, Tamil and Tsa'nir, have died by my Myr'an'dra's hands, and that will cause your destruction.

A light step made Ba'sir tense. A voice rasped in the dialect of the north. When no answer came, it snarled icy oaths. Ra'ri'trin approached, long sword drawn. A little closer my prey, Ba'sir prayed. Closer.

The mountain tiger, tall and imposing in his leather armor, looked at his surroundings in suspicion. He spat another curse, and turned to leave.

Ba'sir shouted. Red light burst from his hand until it encircled him and Ra'ri'trin. The magic he generated would keep the interfering world away until he snuffed it. Nothing could leave the sphere, and nothing could enter it. The tiger raised his weapon. The mage hummed. The warrior froze in place, his rage twisting his features. "I did not believe you to be so stupid," Ba'sir mocked. "Surely Tsa'nir told you what he had observed of my powers." The statement was a guess, but one which he hoped the tiger would prove correct.

The warrior snarled in the common tongue, "Tsa'nir failed in his last mission trying to slay you, shape-changer. He and Tamil together surely succeeded in their new task!"

Ba'sir narrowed his long green eyes. "Both died," he replied, satisfaction filling his heart. "I am here to reap Myr'an'dra's revenge."

"Then they succeeded, although they met death!" the tiger hissed with pride.

Let him think her dead, for that is what I want, Ba'sir thought. "She would take action against you if she could, for you failed in your oath to her. The fault lies with you."

"And you are a coward who hides behind his magic to fight!"

"You are not a jan'nirri," Ba'sir responded coldly, "and deserve no respect from me. You will give me answers."

"Never!"

"Who is to be sacrificed!" Ba'sir growled, not offering any other explanations.

Ra'ri'trin smirked. "Were she not dead, she would have told you!" he taunted. "We will take what we want, as we always have. One day, we will rule."

"Who is to be sacrificed!" Ba'sir repeated with increasing anger. He trusted that Myr'an'dra would tell him, but desired to hear it from Ra'ri'trin.

"I will never tell you mage. Let the innocent's death torment you!"

An innocent would die. The knowledge was sufficient to satisfy his concern, and further justify what he had planned. Ba'sir put his palms together and whispered. The tiger's neck bent back, but Ra'ri'trin held his scream against the pain. The mage set his hands on his narrow hips. "Who is to be sacrificed!" he asked again.

The choked reply rang clear. "Never!"

"I will show no mercy to one who has broken an oath with a jan'nirri." Ba'sir threw back his cowl. "See the true face of the one who is to destroy you.

The mountain tiger spit in contempt. "I have no fear of death!"

"Had you given me what I sought, I might have offered death against my better judgement," Ba'sir commented softly. Fear finally touched the warrior's amber eyes. The mage waited for him to relent, and reveal the information he had desired. When the answer had not come in the space of two breaths, Ba'sir sang softly.

Ra'ri'trin discovered that he could move. He swiftly lunged toward the mage, sword arcing. The first word of power that Ba'sir spoke caressed him, and in an instant, stole his sight. The warrior's sword fell upon the floor of scarlet light with a tinkling, cheery sound. Ra'ri'trin's hands covered the empty sockets where his eyes had been. The second word intensified his screams as a force tore his tongue from his mouth. The mountain tiger dropped to his knees.

The mage whistled, and the protective red light vanished in the flash. In the space between the seconds, Ba'sir slipped back into the shadows. A crowd had gathered beyond the perimeter where the light sphere had extended. The mob rushed forward. Confusion ensued with the grizzly discovery of the downed warrior. Using jan'nirri stealth the mage glided unseen past the people.

He crossed the city swiftly, the temple of V'sri'sar his destination. The snow leopard priest of the God of Love had vouched for him before King Lir. I owe you an explanation, Ryndi, before I continue on my night's work, he decided. I pray that I have not put you in any difficulty with my disappearance.

The narrow streets opened onto a plaza. The inviting torches of the temple drew him toward an encounter he dreaded more than his meeting with the mountain tiger. He would not have to wait long. The portico framed the silhouette of the Li'am'ra.

Ba'sir climbed the marbled steps. He bowed in greeting to the o'lathi. The slender priest gestured that he should enter, but remained silent. He followed her along the maze of corridors that snaked throughout the building until they reached a doorway covered with a filmy veil. She parted the curtain, and they entered her quarters.

"I know all," the hermaphrodite said, anger shaping her words. The priest seated herself on a high-backed chair, her long green robes concealing the incongruities of her anatomy.

Ba'sir stood before the fireplace, the dancing flames the only element of warmth to comfort him. "Is that why you judge me?" he replied, curious as to how the priest had gathered the information, but choosing not to ask.

"That you helped Myr'an'dra is your concern, not mine. What you did to Ra'ri'trin cannot be justified."

"We have different points of reference, you and I."

"And that is why you can no longer stay here."

Cast from two dwellings, Ba'sir! Who will give you refuge next, the mage thought with sarcasm. The priest's grey-green eyes offered no compromise. The desire that he had once possessed for Ryndi, and the opportunity to act upon it, had drifted irrevocably into the past. No matter. I chose correctly, and acted in accordance with jan'nirri ways, he decided. What remains now is to inform the King of my new abode by the sea. And for this, Ryndi will suffice. I grow tired of the games.

"You can tell King Lir what has transpired, and of my new home beyond the mountains," he said abruptly.

"That is something--"

He had not given the priest a chance to finish. He had begun the chant that would take him back to the one he had helped save. The room began to dissolve. The priest had moved from her chair too late. Her fluttering robes and protests vanished, replaced by the welcome murmurs of the sea.

Ba'sir knelt on the sand, exhausted by the magic he had wrought. His destiny had kept him away too long from his people. He no longer belonged. The insight pressed down upon him until tears finally came. A yearning for the world which had truly become his home engulfed him. When this is over, I am going to Xi Four, and the merriment and the feasting will be great!

He looked to the lights from the cottage. Will Myr'an'dra come with me? he wondered. Or will the king take her back in service if Ryndi intervenes. A shiver ran through him. Will the masters of this world exact a price for what I have done?

The mage leaned back on his legs. "I leave it to the gods to decide!" he shouted. "I am tired and hungry." He rose slowly, fatigue settling into his joints. How can I fill all the empty places, he wondered as he walked toward the light.