In the Soup

The aroma that rose from the bubbling cauldron was delightful. The flames in the fireplace caused long shadows to dance across the damp stone walls. The tall Felinari'i used a long wooden spoon to stir the meat and vegetable concoction. "My mother would be proud," he cackled to himself as he kept his braided mane of black and white from accidentally dipping into the thick liquid. Ba'sir glanced at the female asleep on a wide bed. "I hope you will like this, Myr'an'dra."

His brow creased; a tight frown marred his refined features. Despite his hunger, he had rested again after his encounter with Ra'ri'trin, the mountain tiger lord he had disfigured. He had wondered if the rulers of this world would punish him, but they had chosen not to interfere with his decision.

Sheer cliffs and the sea isolated the small cottage where he and his fellow jan'nirri had sought refuge after their trials. To hunt for food would have required another transformation on his part into a flying form, but that had proved unnecessary. The asira'savi had not intended for them to starve. During the hours of darkness sustenance had magically appeared on the table set in the main room. The aliens had also displayed decorum. A trunk containing some of his clothing appeared by the hearth; he would not have to expend energy conjuring more. Because he had retained his thinner form, the garments were all too large. The layering of silks he wore kept away the chill.

The long hours of night now fought against a glow that would bring light back to the world of the Four-Forms. Leaving the soup to simmer, Ba'sir approached the bed, and sat next to the sleeping pantheress. Illuminated only by soft candle light, the female appeared weak and vulnerable. He assumed that the spell placed on her by the aliens allowed her body to attend to its natural functions in a manner that did not require his attentions. He tenderly brushed back her short black mane. "You have dreamt too long, Myr'an'dra," he whispered into her delicately pointed ears. "Come back to me. You have been avenged."

To his delight, her eyes fluttered, then opened. The blanket flew. Myr'an'dra had leapt off the bed, and had vaulted across the room in a spectacular display of acrobatic prowess before he could recite her name a second time. The naked female dropped into a defensive crouch, her long tail twitching nervously. Her warning growls spanned the distance between them.

Ba'sir hoped his heart would stop racing from both the surprise and excitement. He deepened his voice with reassurance, and said soothingly, "The gods have decided that you should live."

Despite the dimness of the room, he could detect a change in her posture as recognition seeped into her mind.

"How long?"

"Long enough."

The female's hands balled into fists. "Ra'ri'trin." She spat out the name like a curse.

"He has felt your power from afar."

Annoyance flared in her exotic almond eyes; the strength of her emotions deepened their emerald color.

"You did pledge to me," Ba'sir stated firmly to counter her anger. "I acted on your behalf."

She nodded reluctantly in agreement.

"Was your vow a lie?" he asked, his deep voice suddenly edged with disappointment.

"No. There is no future for me among my people. I am yours to command."

"Only if you wish it," Ba'sir said softly.

"I do, teacher," she snarled, but with respect. Myr'an'dra strode back toward the bed to reach for the blanket.

"Then, allow me." The tall mage steepled his fingers. His song carried wind and rain; night and sea. He sighed as he released a sphere of red that had formed above his hands. The globe hovered above Myr'an'dra, who eyed it suspiciously. It fragmented into scarlet droplets of light that bathed the jan'nirri. The wildly patterned silks that appeared on her thin body shed there own light. As the female moved, her shadows danced with joy. She appraised the mage. "Beautiful, but impractical," she said holding back a smile.

"I admit the bell sleeves are a bit overdone," he remarked with a grin.

"Not good for the soup I smell cooking."

"Not good at all," the mage answered before dissolving into laughter. When he regained his composure he began to sing. The female's clothing took a simpler form.

"Better," she commented.

"And still beautiful," Ba'sir answered.

The pantheress cocked her head, a retort ready on her lips, but with a casual wave of her hand, she dismissed the playful mood. She walked over to the hearth, and sat on the smaller of two wooden chairs.

Ba'sir padded across the stone floor, and seated himself across from her. "Never cling to the past," he stated calmly. "That is the greatest lesson that I have learned over these many seasons."

"And yet I see the past in your eyes," she answered with assurance.

The mage leaned back on his chair, then tapped the armrest. "You have named me teacher, but in truth, I have no claim to that honor."

"It is because you admit your mistakes that you do."

"And now you are with me. You have a chosen a road better than the one you had traveled." He expected a sharp reply, but none arrived.

The warm light softened the sadness in her folded hands. He hated to intrude upon her melancholy for it was necessary for her to bid farewell to all she had known. Yet, he needed to know if she would be truthful with him. He asked directly, "Whom did Ra'ri'trin wish to sacrifice?"

The response came without hesitation. "Mystic Tir'shan."

Ba'sir cursed, then said, "Thank the gods he is off-world for the moment, but we must get word to those of his temple."

"There is no need of that. Before I left for my meeting with the mountain tigers, I made arrangements for a note to be delivered to Te'sara, the leader of the mystics, and King Lir." She shrugged. "What they will do with the knowledge I have given them is their concern."

"And what of Tir'shan?"

"I did not know that I would still live. I can protect him if you so decree."

Ba'sir replied calmly, "He is a favorite of the serpents. As long as he lives on this world, he will not come to harm. It is on the new world where trouble looms." The mage made a broad sweep with his hand. "We will be amongst the stars by then; his people and the new king must protect him." The tension that had held him loosened. "You have done well, Myr'an'dra."

The pantheress explained harshly, "I was a fool to pledge to the mountain tigers. "It was easy enough to serve them as long as they fought amongst themselves. To supply them with intelligence concerning the royal court concerned me not, for King Lir rejected me." Her voice tightened with anger as she continued. "But to plot to destroy a mystic...that is when I knew that I had acted rashly in binding my honor to theirs."

She gripped the armrests in annoyance. "You know the jan'nirri code. I was prepared to die for failing to fulfill my oath to the mountain tigers. As Ni'tara would decree, they moved first by sending assassins. They freed me of my obligations and my conscience."

Her distress reached far down into his heart. Ba'sir leaned forward in his chair. "There will be no more talk of what has been, Myr'an'dra." He pointed to the cauldron. "You must be fortified. Regarding the future, we still have much to discuss."

The pantheress rose from the chair, then prostrated herself before the mage. "To learn from you I will pay whatever price you require."

Ba'sir lifted her up, and stood beside her. His arms wrapped around her narrow waist, and she did not protest. For a moment, he savored her youth and all the possibilities that lay before her. His road was a difficult one, but she was strong. As much as he would like to protect her from the hostility of the universe, it was not his place to choose for her.

"If you learn my magic, you will be tested as never before. In the end, for me to transmit the heart of the Power to you, you must sacrifice." He smiled knowingly. "In you the Power will develop far beyond what it has in me. Whatever burden you must carry, I will be there to help you." He ran his finger along her jaw tenderly. "I choose you as my heir."

The windows rattled ominously with the wind. A shiver ran through the female's body as she growled in acquiescence. Ba'sir hoped he could forgive himself for making the chains he had forged for her.