Hawk Circles

Somewhere a crystal wind chime tinkled in the breeze. Before the tiger, a field of tall gold and purple flowers blazed under an azure sky. One hidden within the floral maze held his heart with tenderness.

A voice intruded, masculine and coarse. "Fresh fish from the River!"

Wolos do bring in the best catches, Tygra decided. The field before him disappeared as sky and fluffy clouds filled his sight. The coolness of the stone bench upon which he reclined chilled his orange and black fur, and pleasantly combated the heat of the seventh month. The deep relaxation of sleep dissipated. The tiger sat up slowly, his gaze directed down toward his feet as he swung his legs around. The grass tickled his soles. Right elbow resting on his knee, he leaned forward, and set his chin against his fist. He ran his left hand through his mane to dislodge the fuzziness still softening his brain. Something rippled unexpectedly across his consciousness.

A presence? He lifted his gaze. His son Altair stood before him, appraising him with emerald green eyes too wise for one so young.

Tygra smiled, but his serene mood swiftly evaporated. "You are supposed to be with Talitha!" he shouted with surprise as he leapt to his feet.

The cub angled his head in puzzlement before disappearing.

"Ten gods!" Tygra cried. He reached across the city with his mind, and called for his tenira. *Talitha!*

*Why such a fuss, dear one?* replied the white tigress.

*Altair!*

*He left the mystics' annex a moment ago with Cheetara.*

*He was to be with you this day, while Marcus stayed with Tril'i at the guard hall within Cats' Lair! Why did you let him go!*

*His mother wished the pleasure of his company. If you want to see your son, find her,* she answered tersely. *We are quite busy here. I will converse with you this evening.*

*Talitha!* he called repeatedly to no avail, for his mate had shielded herself from his telepathic pleas.

He had over reacted. Clearly the image of his son had been but a remnant from a drowsy brain still filtering dreams. But why Altair? he wondered.

"Sandals,"Tygra muttered to himself. His black o'ba'ti flapping against his legs, he raced into his house.

*****

The architect sat on the edge of a large foundation, and wondered why he could not easily locate Cheetara and his son in the city he had designed. People of different races swarmed the busy avenues. Tygra scratched his short white ruff in distraction. He could call to the historian with his mind, but preferred to respect Thunderan customs in dealing with those not blessed with telepathy. Because of his choice, he had allowed the afternoon to lengthen with waiting.

The tiger rose. I have wasted enough time today. Tir'shan insists that I must cultivate the pleasure of doing nothing and being in the moment. Tygra snorted. There was much I could have done today, rather than chase a nonexistent mystery. It took a moment for him to register the gentle tug on his o'ba'ti which ended his musings.

Altair. Tygra knelt, and placed his hands on the cub's shoulders, his son's warmth penetrating the short brown tunic he wore. Solid, not a phantom, he thought with satisfaction. "Where is your mother!" he exclaimed, realizing that his son was unescorted.

"With Tygra'a," Altair answered meekly.

"Why did they leave you alone?" Tygra asked, his alarm growing.

Altair shook his head. "Not. I left. Wanted you, Ta'sa'ba." He leaned against Tygra's chest.

The city he had created retreated.

*****

Tygra stood next to the field of flowers he had dreamt. A desert hawk lazily rode the thermals until he hovered high over the beautiful landscape. Somehow he knew the watchful bird to be his son. I should have named you Saqr, not Altair, he thought, for you are as swift and as bold a messenger as any falcon.

The sweet fragrance of the blossoms he had known on Thundera beckoned. He spied a path barely visible at the border of the field. Tygra took a step forward. He suddenly found himself reclining on a blanket woven in the red and umber wave patterns of southern Thundera. A pretty tigress playfully swatted his nose. The sleeve of her yellow silk robe fluttered. "You are not paying attention to me," Taija said. "So I won't play my harp for you anymore today."

It was the last summer that they had known love on Thundera. The field; the flowers; they were all the there to break his heart with the memory of those lost days with his first love. "Taija," he murmured. "Song of my heart." He lightly touched the streak of orange on her nose.

Above him the hawk cried; the vision faded.

*****

Altair still rested against his chest. His small body quaked. Tygra lifted his son up, and murmured words of comfort into his ear. He would consider what had transpired between them later.

"Altair!" the voice that shouted was his own, but did not emanate from him. His twin from another dimension struggled across the crowded plaza. "By all the gods, we had no notion that he had left us," Tygra'a gasped as he reached their side.

"Go, and tell his mother that he is here with me. I am taking him to my home," the architect stated flatly, not wishing to engage in conversation with the tiger who was still a relative stranger to him despite the fact that he wore his face. His curiosity had yet to trump his reluctance to investigate the other tiger's past fully.

Tygra'a's dark amber eyes widened slightly, whether in anger or surprise the architect did not care.

"So be it," he said abruptly, then turned on his heals and left.

Altair sighed, and tightened his hold on his father.

*Why are you distressed?* Talitha asked from afar, her concerned inquiry brushing his mind.

*Tend to your duties, my tenira. Send Tir'shan to the house, for I have questions for him concerning my son.*

*But what is going on?*

*I will converse with you this evening,* he responded, before closing the psychic connection.

The gentle buzz against his brain told him that Talitha was persistent in attempting to get through to him, but soon his mind quieted.

"All will be well, little one," Tygra said softly to his son as he carried him across the city. But he doubted the truth of his own words.

*****

He had judged well the placement of the windows in his cottage, for the cross breezes kept the house cool even during the warmest part of the day. Tygra looked upon his son who rested on his bed in the healing sleep he had placed upon him. I still cannot believe you are here, Altair. You favor me more with each passing day, he thought. But I suspect your mother is in evidence in you in more ways than the few spots that dot your fur, and that causes me worry. You are too young to bear whatever destiny the gods of Thundera have planned for you.

There was a gentle knock at the front door. Tygra rose from his chair, annoyed at the sudden stiffness that had gripped his muscles. No more sleeping on stone benches, he decided with irritation.

In the main chamber, a white tiger stood by the empty fireplace. Clad in an o'ba'ti that matched his sky blue eyes, Tir'shan presented a handsome and impressive figure more suited to a warrior than a mystic. Tygra gestured for his guest to sit. The giant lowered himself onto the largest chair. "Why have you summoned me?" he asked, regarding him with suspicion. "Talitha is a angry as any mutant with your dismissal."

"Because, without doubt, you are the greatest among us," Tygra said. The admission pained him. It was an uneasy peace that he had forged with the mystic that had desired Talitha, and if Thundera had not exploded, probably would have become her mate. Not addressing his tenira's fury, the architect continued, "I fear for my son, Altair."

The tension in the white tiger's body lessened as Tygra explained the events of the day. "You should have expressed your concerns to Talitha," Tir'shan chided.

How could I explain the dream to her without hurting her, the architect thought with dismay. Deep within my heart, desire for Taija still remains. Perhaps that is why I have avoided her all these suns since her arrival on Third Earth.

"Proud and foolish, tiger!" snapped Tir'shan, seemingly reading his mind from his expression. "That your son may have elicited your unexpected vision should be your only consideration! That he is exhibiting a special gift at such a young age is the issue, not your summer fantasy."

The hot blood of a clan lord boiled in Tygra, forming a molten river of irrationality winding through his normally cool and logical mind. He mentally recited the list of his ancestors until he tamed the rapids. He took a deep breath before he spoke to finish the exorcism of his hostility. He said, "At Altair's birth, no vibration of potential for psychic ability could be detected. I felt that perhaps because of his mixed heritage, he would never develop mind power."

Tir'shan stood. "Allow me to read him, my Lord Tygra, and maybe we will know."

His title always sounded like an insult when it fell from his rival's mouth. The river again threatened, but he pointed toward the bedroom instead.

"That is the most sensible thing I have heard all day!" Talitha snapped as she entered the cottage, a whirlwind wrapped in pale linen robes that favored a figure still ripe with curves from her last pregnancy. She threw down her healer's pouch on a side table, then swept past the males. "So let us all stop dreaming!"

*****

"It is still a puzzle how he took you back into your dream," Talitha remarked, breaking the uncomfortable silence between them. The female poured tea from a copper kettle into mugs. "No indicator for mind power pulses in Altair, and yet something clearly passed between you and him, Tygra."

"I should wake him now that Tir'shan is gone," Tygra said absently. "If I do not, he will be up all night, for his schedule will have been completely disrupted."

Talitha waved her hand. "I will take care of that, dear one. Have your tea."

Tygra studied the coil of steam that rose from the hot liquid. Talitha never stayed angry at him for long. Considering what she had endured because of him, he was grateful for her forgiving nature.

Laughter sounded, then Altair bounded into the main room. "I am hungry Ta'sa'ba!" he shrieked.

"He is so direct," Talitha stated with a smile before taking a sip of her tea.

It was as Tir'shan always said: He could not relax into the moment. The need for an answer consumed him over his son's desires. "Altair, why did you need me?" he asked the cub abruptly.

His son frowned. "Heard sad music."

"Tygra, he does not understand what you ask."

"Came to you. You make music happy," he added brightly. "Ta'sa'ba help?"

"What did you see when you touched me, Altair?"

The cub angled his head, his eyes looking to a place beyond the walls. "Thundera," he said with a whisper. "Enough of this," Talitha snarled. "You are scaring him." She took Altair by the hand. "Come. We are going back to the annex to fetch Ri. I have already taken advantage of the other mystics on duty today regarding her care."

Altair resisted her pull. "Hungry!"

"Let him be, Talitha."

"So you can torment him more!"

Talitha was always better with a bow than him. The arrow hurt. "So I can cook something for him to eat."

"You will not bother him further."

"I will return him to his mother after he has eaten his meal," Tygra said. But Altair has told me what I must do, and I will see to that matter afterwards, he resolved to himself.

The white tigress gathered her pouch filled with fragrant herbs. Her sapphire blue eyes regarded him intently. She said, "Love might make life difficult, but it must always be respected, Tygra."

As he watched her leave, Tygra wondered why the gods had favored him with such a perceptive tenira.

*****

It was the two swifts steps back that Taija took when she opened the door that informed Tygra of her shock. When her composure returned, the tigress gave him a slight nod of her head in greeting.

Once inside her cottage, they studied each other, and marked the effects of the many seasons that had slowly dissolved their youth. The only sound invading the space between them came from the conversations on the street that drifted through an open window, and the sparkling song of a crystal wind chime that hung nearby.

Tygra looked away first, his gaze falling on the old harp he knew so well leaning against the legs of a worn, padded chair. He could not stop the smile that formed on his face, nor the gentle shake of his head in disapproval. "And still you do not set your instrument upon its stand," he said with a fondness that softened his hardened heart.

The mahogany robe she wore favored her rich orange fur, and in the diminishing light of day, she gleamed. Taija laughed, her coloratura voice warm and vibrant. "And you, my Lord Tygra, never send a messenger to announce your pending arrival. You remain as unobservant of the social conventions as ever."

He took her in his arms before he could stop himself with logic and reason. He cursed his stupidity for not celebrating her survival. Love for the tigress who had awakened him to adulthood, despite all that had befallen him, had remained. He rode the emotion to the core of his being, and found it to be pure. His desire born of youth had transformed into something deeper for which he had no words to express. His life ascended to a higher level with the acceptance that her life was forever woven into the tapestry of his soul. Yet it was his wise tenira who had unflinchingly held a mirror up to him to reveal this truth. He revelled in his exquisite and vast love for his white tigress which had eclipsed all others. Now I understand what also must remain between you and Tir'shan, dear Talitha, he concluded. Forgive my jealousy of a love that rightly belongs to you.

Taija's long fingers hand delicately brushed his face, and broke his reverie. "Please sit," she said indicating another chair as she moved away. "It has been a long time since I have played for you."

It always began and ended with music of the harp. He favored her request, and let his mind rise and fall with the swirling tones that spoke of the complexity of life. When the music ended, he sighed deeply in resonance with the impermanence of the notes.

"You are truly a master," he declared.

She replied, "I have not yet reached a place of contentment with my music."

"If you did, you would die," Tygra huffed. "To strive and learn has always been a part of your nature. Boredom never suited you, Taija."

"Perhaps you are correct, Tygra," she said, "but I fear I have grown lazy with the passing of my teachers."

"You always surpassed them," he said, a serpent of anger slipping through his calmness, and disrupting it. It was because of her demanding teachers that she had left him. And yet, it was because of her teachers that she had become great.

"Why have you come to me now after so many months?" the tigress asked as she set the harp by her feet.

There was no way to explain without telling her everything that had occurred.

The sun had set by the time he had related the events of the day. Several floating glow balls now illuminated the main room. "Your son is sensitive," Taija said, her dark brown eyes reflecting many emotions. "Perhaps he heard me play in my courtyard. I have been searching for the song of Thundera in a melody that has eluded me. Today, I summoned on the strings a loss so painful that I could not continue playing."

"Altair asked for my help, Taija, to make the music not sad."

"To do that, Tygra, you would have to make me happy, for the melody I summoned reflects me, not Thundera."

To ask the next question would open many doors. His son's request threaded through his consciousness. Gods help us both, Altair, he thought as he reached an uncomfortable decision.

"Is there anything that I can do to help you, Taija?" he asked.

Her lips parted slightly in anticipation. There was something. That she would tell him remained uncertain until she said, "I had my revenge upon my teachers, Tygra, for forcing me to choose between you and my music. Long after you left my side, they insisted that I take a mate in order to pass along my gift to a new generation. I declined."

The possibility that he might have regained her before Thundera's destruction quickened the beating of his heart, and consumed him with anger. Damn those who sought perfection in her music! he fumed. Damn them for the pain they caused her. Damn me for adding to her distress. Yet he had to speak the truth. "You were my first, Taija. I will always have love for you. But the road we traveled together ended long ago. We cannot alter time, and enter that path again."

"But together we can find an antidote for the poison of revenge that I willingly drank. That will heal my sadness and ease my days."

"You speak in riddles, Taija!"

"Have you not heard what I have asked, my Lord Tygra?" she pleaded.

Spurred by desperation of her words, the solution blossomed in his mind. "All the gods of Thundera," he gasped.

"Will you consider blessing me, Tygra, as your station permits? A cub of mine will carry the potential for the gift of music."

"What of Su'ti?" he offered with a prayer that she would rescind her demand. "He is the Chi'ris'rin of the red tiger clan, not I. Unlike him, the blood of the white tiger race courses through my veins."

"Is it so much to ask for a cub to be conceived with love, and not through mere duty to the people? It matters not to me whether my cub has the blood of both the red and the white tiger races."

She had announced her feelings clearly. Another arrow had pierced his heart. Had she been with many other males after their days together? He doubted it. Her pleasant features, of which he had known every delightful quirk, had grown sorrowful with trial and sacrifice.

There was the price for his nobility paid in a life of service. Despite his formal bonding with Talitha, as a clan lord he could grant her request in accordance with custom. He had joined with Cheetara because they had believed that no one else had survived Thundera's destruction. Tygra shuddered at the memory of the distress he had suffered and had also caused from the historian's choice. Yet from that joining came Altair, and with him came mystery.

Love must be respected. Talitha's words. How had she known that Taija would one day call to him in this manner? How could he deny a gift of a cub to the Felinari because of his pride? How could he elude life and all its entanglements? If he did this, how could he ever speak against the possibility of his tenira entering Tir'shan's healing circle?

The answer to all of his questions was simple. He must be in the moment and free of all attachment to see clearly and act with the compassion of a mystic of the violet ray. Tygra, the son of a clan lord. Tygra, the architect. Perhaps today is the day that I truly embrace being Tygra, a mystic and priest of Mrísena. His heart skipped a beat. I do not know all the prayers and rituals that Tir'shan and Talitha keep pestering me to learn. And I am far behind them both in healing skill.

Tygra stood. With Talitha's love and companionship, he would never face any challenge alone. He said with a voice far too steady for one so nervous, "You must speak to Su'ti, and I will confer with Talitha. They must be in agreement for our joining to occur when the time of your fertility arrives."

Taija smiled.

*****

Tygra wandered the city until it had grown almost to late for him to seek sleep. As he entered his home, dancing shadows born of light seemed to him to be his ancestors discussing his plight with amusement. He had always preferred the flickering of candles to the steady glow of magical spheres. The night had grown cool, and he was thankful that Talitha had also seen to the hearth. He studied the flames that softly devoured the wood in the fireplace. Talitha was his hearthstone, strong enough to contain any conflagration his life would generate.

Tygra sank wearily onto his favorite chair. He had often wondered if his father had ever sired other cubs out of duty. Clan records would tell him. However, he had no desire to look into the books Su'ti held to discover the secrets they might reveal.

The kiss upon his mane was cloud light; the touch upon his shoulder lingered; the scent of summer blossoms cloaked him. Talitha settled on his lap. He opened his mind, and surrendered to the supreme comfort of her being.

Together they would greet the dawn.