Shadow Blade, Chapter XIX: Touch of the Spirit

Shadow Blade, Chapter XIX: Touch of the Spirit

Chapter XIX: Touch of the Spirit

"Everybody up!" a voice shouted urgently in the distance. Rue looked frantically around for its source amidst the psychotic whirl of ever-shifting colors and half-impossible forms--was that Thorn in the depths of the forest with its trees of such surreal proportions? But he looked so young...it couldn't be...how could his face have remained unchanged over the years--his hair might be lightening by now--

The Guardian Aruna snapped awake. All light and color vanished in an instant, leaving a much saner world where night and day were distinguished by what she could hear, smell, and feel. Someone rapped at the door. "Aruna--enclave meeting now!" Mind still lodged between worlds, Rue strained her ears for the sounds of the morning birds. They, and the scent of the morning meal, were conspicuously absent. Whatever it was, it had to be serious for Thorn to roust the Guardians in the middle of the night.

Thorn had to have an answer, Rue realized. "I'll be right there!" She had the distinct feeling Thorn would tolerate no delay, not even to change into a robe or riding tunic.

Stepping out into the corridor, Aruna was greeted by a cacophony of hushed voices: Guardians wildly speculating, griping, or both, and a few confused family members fretting at the sudden summoning of their kin. At that thought Rue realized what a sight she must be in her nightclothes, sword buckled on and cloak clasped over all of this, her hair disheveled--and blindfold still tied securely over her eyes. Even seven months after discovering the loss of her sight, she still found it difficult to sleep without it...and it also spared her from that moment in which she might, in waking from a dream, open her eyes to the sudden shock that came of forgetting that she was blind.

Kalle called her name and invited her to sit next to him when she arrived at the Great Hall. "I hardly know how I got here," Kalle blearily mumbled. "I think I just followed my homing instinct the whole way--it feels like the only part of me that's awake..." The gentle pull of the homing instinct was omnipresent for a Guardian in waking, functioning regardless of physical or environmental conditions--Aruna had come to think of this mental beacon as a third symbol of her membership in the Order along with her sword and sash.

"I know how you feel," Rue sympathized. "You know, I bet Thorn's going to be even worse off in the morning. He probably won't sleep at all after whatever this is--even if Erik or Grandfather ordered him, he'd just go to his quarters and toss and turn, or pace around until he heard the kitchen staff head for the dining hall."

"Sounds like him," Kalle agreed. The young navigator lowered his voice to a near whisper, setting a hand on Rue's shoulder as he leaned closer. She smiled dreamily, only half-aware of her expression. His breath tickled her ear as he spoke. "I'll be honest--he's still not my favorite person in the enclave. But I had a feeling it wouldn't hurt for you two to settle your issues with each other..."

"We have," Rue answered succinctly, unsure of just how much Kalle knew and unwilling to break the rule of silence to ask.

"Come to order!" called the Elder Guardian and the gathering fell silent. "We have been joined by one of our brothers from the Boenmarsch enclave. On behalf of the Enclave of Erchandemur, I bid you welcome, Johannes." While he had already greeted Johannes privately, Aruna expected, this ritual greeting was designed to allow the enclave to hear the visitor's voice.

"I accept your gracious welcome, Elder, and I thank you," Johannes replied. "I am at your command." Rue felt a twinge in her stomach the Boenmarsch Guardian's accent--the distinctive replacement of the "chs" sound with an "x" reminded her of her mother.

The Elder continued, "Johannes may be wintering with us, depending on how conditions look next week. He specializes in the arts of hand-to-hand and dagger combat--you may meet him in some of your classes for the duration of his stay. Johannes, I will assign a few of our students to familiarize you with the Keep, if you wish...I believe our young prospects should hear from the wisdom of another enclave." Johannes murmured his thanks and acceptance.

The Elder Guardian then announced, "Regrettably, it is for a dire reason that Johannes is here. The plight of the Boenmarsch people is now grave, and Johannes was sent because the sighted couriers are no longer able to pass through the battle lines without great danger to their lives. We...and blood-mages, we must assume...are now the only ones traveling back and forth unimpeded from the Istaltic-controlled territories. Johannes--I shall now ask you to detail the situation as you were last aware of it.

The Boenmarsch Guardian's tone was deep with solemnity yet soft; Rue strained to pick out all of his words as he told his ominous tale. "Verchen is on the verge of falling. The refugees who will arrive in the morning, and who will be wintering at Erchandemur Keep, are the last group I know of to make it out before Istaltic forces encircled the city. Verchen is now cut off from the rest of the world. Our enclave has been sending blockade runners in and out with foodstuffs to do what little we can to ward off a famine...but that day will almost certainly come if the Istallans aren't driven out soon. What's more, the Istallans have been helping themselves to the residents' crops outside the city walls. It will be a rough winter no matter what, whether the Aramansch League can break the siege or not. Some of my comrades at home have sworn themselves to the defense. I ask for your prayers for the people of Verchen; they are desperately needed.

"I also request that some members of this enclave be prepared to aid the incoming refugees with your hospitality. Not all of you are old enough to realize the effect your presence can have on the frightened and hopeless. These people do not know if their husbands, sons, and fathers will live long enough for them to meet again. They have only what they can carry, and even though our lands speak much the same language, this is a foreign place to them. Some have heard and seen terrible things. And I believe a few among them are in need of instruction the Order can offer." Disease, malnutrition, or injury had weakened or stolen the sight of a few of the refugees, Rue realized. While the Guardians did not teach their combat techniques to uninitiated adults, from time to time the enclave had given practical instruction and moral support to such people that would aid them in their new lives in darkness.

The Elder Guardian spoke once more. "That is one of the reasons you have been summoned at this hour; assignments must be made in preparation to receive our guests. Also--you must be aware of the heightened danger of Istaltic raids into Araman. Erchandemur Keep may be a target of such raids because both it and Verchen are along the Trans-Aramansch Road. Now...I'll ask some of you to remain behind. The rest will be free to go when I complete the list. Erik, Tarad, Kirian, Imrir, and Aruna," Michael called, "you'll comprise the first group. Thorn, Ludovico, and Alleric--you'll comprise the second." When the Elder went silent, Kalle bade Rue farewell for the night and she made her way forward to see what Grandfather Michael had in mind.

Thorn's triad, it turned out, would spend time the next day in discussion with Johannes about possible scenarios that might play out after Verchen's fall in light of the intelligence the enclave had. Johannes himself was exhausted from his journey and anxious to rest, but before excusing himself, he could not resist inquiring, "Which of you is Aruna Sherenaanei?"

"I am, sir," Rue replied in muted tones, startled by the surname that she dared not use outside the confines of the Guardians' halls.

He placed his hands on her shoulders in the Guardian's equivalent of a handshake, and Rue reciprocated. "I commend your bravery," said the Boenmarsch Guardian. "We have said many a prayer for your peace in Paschbuehn."

"Thank you..." Her voice trailed off, unsure how else to respond to this notoriety.

Aruna sensed through the gentleness of Johannes' touch that he was smiling at her. "I won't detain you any further, Aruna...I am as anxious to sleep as you must be. But if it isn't too much trouble...could we talk a bit at the morning meal? I can't help a bit of curiosity..."

"It's no trouble," Rue answered out of politeness, hoping Johannes would not discern the reticence in her voice. Thorn conveniently chose that moment to introduce himself to the Boenmarsch Guardian. She gave an inward sigh of relief as Grandfather Michael turned his attention back to the group he had named to accompany him.

"We will be dealing with the refugees tomorrow," he said. "While we won't really be adhering to a formal triad structure, I'd like Kirian and Rue with me, and Erik to work with Tarad and Imrir. That gives each triad one who is familiar with Boenmar, and also one member who has known sight--you may be called upon to teach. Please remember where our limits are with regard to what techniques you may share...and Rue, I'm sure you've already thought of this, but it won't do to let people realize how old you were before you lost your sight."

"I won't," she promised.

"Of course," Grandfather Michael agreed as he gave her a quick hug. "Now go on back to sleep. We have a big day ahead of us."



"Welcome to Araman," the Elder Guardian announced to the group of thirty-six refugees, mostly women and children with a few elderly men and one soldier who had been struck unconscious in battle and awoken to total darkness. "My name is Michael, Elder Guardian. You're among friends here. I can't guarantee that the Istallans won't cross the border, but I can promise you that I and the warriors with me will do our utmost to protect you if need be. The armies of our king are also dedicated to the protection of Erchandemur and the Keep in particular. I pray that you will all find some peace and comfort here. Please don't hesitate to let us know of your needs; we can see to it that anyone in need of a healer or a priest gets to one, and we of the Order of Guardians offer to remember the names of your loved ones. We may not be able to get you word of all, or any of them, but you'll have our prayers.

"There is one more thing we Guardians can offer. If there is any among you who has lost or is losing his sight, or was born without it, we are more than willing to offer our advice to any who ask." With that, the Elder lightly clapped his hands and turned towards the Guardians, saying, "Each of you take a group of six or so, and listen to their concerns." The five assented.

An elderly woman, exhausted by her journey, tottered slowly over towards Aruna, delicately reaching out to touch her robe as if in the presence of a Keilin. "I never thought I'd live to see a woman warrior," she rasped, her voice reminding Rue of the rustling of the autumn leaves. Please, pray with me for my sons, Farin and Bezlehl Sohrvanei...they stayed behind in the city. Their wives and children, too...they fled a few weeks before I did--I don't know if they've gone ahead to Brichtal or where they are. Please, Nenei Katurje..." She set her trembling hand on Aruna's shoulder as she sniffed back tears.

Rue felt an ominous lump forming in her own throat. Lord, give me strength for their sake, she prayed as the full meaning of Johannes' words sank in. She felt immensely unworthy of this degree of admiration. "Wife of Sohrvan," she began gently, "would you please share your name with me, to guide me in my prayers and inquiries? And if there are more names, please tell me."

"Ludja," she replied. "Bless you, Nenei Katurje!" At that, Ludja could no longer restrain her sorrow and as she wept, Aruna simply clasped her gnarled, callused hands and repeated each name as she committed it to memory.

There were, however, a few spots of levity amidst the tears. Erik, to no one's surprise, had quickly became a favorite of the small children--children who had enjoyed few opportunities to play during their arduous flight into exile. The marksman took great delight in demonstrating his abilities to track them and then snatch them up one by one and tickle them so that their shrieks and giggles wound in and out among the tears and the tragic stories of those for whom innocence was but a figment of the distant past. Erik also took the time to answer as many of the children's questions as he could--including some that the adults first thought to reprimand them for.

He took aside a young mother who had been particularly aghast at her son's question--what's wrong with their eyes? "Most often when a child asks," he assured her, "when he's that young it's because he truly wants to understand. He'll learn a more proper way when he gets older...but he's too innocent at that age to mean any harm; that I well know. I recognize the tone; I hear it in some of my more promising students when they're trying to work through something. Not every Guardian feels the same way about this, but I'll take a silly question over the silent treatment any day. All I ask is that you tell your son to look for me next time he has questions." He paused for a moment. "Actually, that goes for you, too. I suspect you have a few."

"What--what makes you think...?" the young woman sputtered. Erik held his silence. "How did you know?" she finally conceded.

"I am a father," he replied in a gentle tone made all the more so by the lilting Reúhel cadence of his speech. "When you rebuke your son, is it not an echo of your own thoughts and fears?"



"I wish he and Thorn could've talked," Rue whispered to Kalle over the midday meal. "But you know how he feels. They're very similar, Anton and Thorn."

"Except from what you've told me, Anton's a lot more bitter than I've ever known Thorn to be," Kalle observed.

Aruna sighed, remembering Anton's first, snide comment after her initial approach--how could you understand? Although she had alluded to having had her sight in younger years, what had truly stung was the realization that in the most complete sense, she did not understand. The overwhelming, unexpected shock of waking in the chaos of battle without any way to see what was happening around him or how to rescue himself from his situation was foreign to her. Even Kalle knew the fear more intimately than she for whom everything had been so carefully controlled. "I can't really blame him," Rue admitted. "He hasn't had very much time...and think of what's happening to his home. It's as if he thinks it's his fault that he can't be back there fighting--as if he hasn't given enough already. Maybe...I don't know--but I could try to ask Thorn about seeing Anton."

"Good luck...I'd give you a better shot than most, but you'll need it," her friend warned. "I'm not so sure it would work, anyway...if Anton would listen. You should try again yourself tomorrow, see how it goes. At least he knows your voice." Kalle paused to drain the rest of his soup. "You told me Imrir's been working with a boy...how old?"

"About thirteen," Rue answered. "It's been kind of a gradual thing for him, but his mother, bless her, seems not to have a very good idea of what to do with him. He still sees a little, but he could really do with learning to use a cane or staff."

At that moment, Grandfather Michael tapped Rue on the shoulder. "Pardon me for interrupting, but have you finished eating, Rue?" When she replied that she had, he said, "I apologize for taking her away, Kalle, but I have news for her." Rue stood and Grandfather Michael wrapped his arm around her, drawing her to his side. Rue smiled at his warmth. "We've determined a specialty for you, Rue," he informed her as he led her in the direction of his quarters. "This is an expertise our enclave has lacked for a long time, but the greater the threat of war in Araman grows, the more necessary it becomes."

He stopped and pulled the door open with its familiar creak like the mewling of an inquisitive cat. Once inside, the pair of Guardians sat side-by-side on the divan. "I know this will come as a shock, but Erik and I have made arrangements for you to train with Eridia Vardesei in the healing arts."

Rue blinked at the unwavering darkness and her stomach seemed to twist violently upon itself. Her skin prickled and her heart pounded so loudly that she feared Grandfather Michael would both feel and hear it. "What...I don't understand--that's Zarine's apprentice... and me--a healer--I thought I was supposed to be a Guardian...!"

"Oh, Rue...you are, absolutely, you will always be a Guardian above all else. You'll only be studying once a week with Eridia--not like before. This doesn't take away from your Guardianship, not at all...the Keilin Akerius was no less of a Guardian for his healing gift--"

"But I'm not like him--I don't have a Spirit-gift..."

Grandfather Michael pulled her a bit more tightly to his side at that. "You have experience," he emphasized, "even though it's been awhile--very valuable experience. I know what's troubling you, dear...I would never set my daughter up to walk into a poisonous situation, and that's why I asked specifically that Eridia be your instructor, not Zarine. I don't imagine Zarine will want to be around much anyway, if at all...so try not to worry. No one is expecting you to become a full healer anyhow. What I hope is that you can learn some useful skills to apply in the field. And Eridia will be kind...she's not quite fifteen and most likely she'll defer to your age. Rest assured, though, she knows all that you'd need at this stage. I'm sure you realize that you'll have to get acclimated to everything anew."

"How do I diagnose a patient or measure out the ingredients for an elixir blind? The Keilin Akerius had special powers..."

"Don't worry," Grandfather Michael replied. "It's been done since the Keilin's time, and I've demonstrated a few of our basic teaching techniques to Eridia. I'm looking out for you, Rue...I made sure to speak with her myself to see what kind of person she is. Now, I must ask you to agree to this. You do have some say in this, but I strongly encourage it; Erik and Thorn agree on the need for healing skills in the enclave. You also have strong recommendations from Kirian--and Alleric. They believe you have the skill and the instinct to save lives on the battlefield."

Aruna held her silence for several long seconds, which stretched into almost a full minute. In her mind she beheld her final image of Zarine--contemptuously sneering at the "crazy" girl whom she could not believe had the slightest comprehension of what she was about to do. Now she had marked herself forever as a Guardian. Even without the same level of expectation that had been on her before, and even without Zarine as her instructor, the thought of returning to the venue of such torment brought a bitter taste to her mouth. Yet if Alleric could endorse her in spite of his imperfect recovery...Rue shook her head slowly, but even as she did, the words she heard emerging from her mouth were, "I agree."

"Good girl," Grandfather Michael intoned as soothingly as he could, gently massaging her tensed shoulder. "I'll see if Eridia can start with you next week, Saturday morning."

Rue sighed, bemused at her own assent. Rue reached up with her right hand to his face, placing her fingers upon his cheek with her thumb resting on the corner of his lips. Grandfather Michael responded obligingly with a smile, and she couldn't help reciprocating when she detected the light scraping of stubble at the movement. For a moment she directed her unseeing eyes towards his face--then focused her mind once more upon her tactile impressions. I am a Guardian, she thought insistently.



The early morning dew brought a clammy chill to Rue's feet as she ran across the practice field. All of those parts of her mind not occupied with tracking her position or sensing potential obstacles were at work on an experiment. Its object was simple--to verify the permanence of a strange phenomenon that she had first noticed the day the refugees arrived. A young serving maid had entered the entrance hall of the Keep where the guests were being received, bringing with her a delightful aroma of freshly baked bread. As the scent had teased at Rue's nostrils, somewhere in the back of her mind had materialized an impression rather like a beam of sunlight streaming through the clouds. She had quickly forgotten the fleeting abstraction until later that day, the same thing had occurred unbidden the instant she caught a whiff of baking bread loaves on her way past the kitchen.

Rue struggled not to turn her mind towards these incidents as she ran, seeking to lose herself in thought. Slowly she narrowed her awareness down as far as she dared, turning her mind instead towards the homing instinct from which she could derive the cardinal directions. Then she inhaled deeply through her nose. There were the invigorating scents of thriving grass and fertile soil--and in the back of her mind, unbidden, formless flashes of cloud-white and a deep wine-red, mingling together yet distinctly separate entities. It's really happening, she thought with apprehension. Am I hallucinating after being without colors for so long? Am I losing my mind? Some of the color associations defied all logic, nor would she have chosen some of them on her own--there seemed to be hardly any rationality to them other than a vague correlation between richness and intensity of scent and the depth and brightness of the associated mental color.

Her adoptive grandfather was waiting, as he often did, at the entrance to the Guardians' Great Hall, sensing the time at which Rue would finish with the aid of many years of habit. It was only with great reluctance that Rue resolved to tell Grandfather Michael of this strange reaction. The instant Rue began to speak, she heard him draw in a sharp breath. "Come with me into the field where we can have some privacy--then describe exactly what's happening, as best as you can. Don't try to 'translate' it...I needn't be able to understand it firsthand. I need the description with all of the visual terms intact."

Even without having to process her experience in terms that Grandfather Michael would relate to directly, Aruna discovered that even to describe it as if to a sighted person was almost completely impossible. "It's not my eyes," she finally concluded. "I can look without a blindfold to where I know the sun is, and I don't see it or feel as if my eyes are trying to respond. But it keeps happening--please, did Kestrel or any of the others ever go through this? Will it get worse?"

"Actually..." Grandfather Michael's voice trembled with awe. "I may be completely mistaken, but this may be what we call the 'inner sight'--not an illness or delusion at all, but a Spirit-gift. We'll need to speak to the priest about this--and Thorn." Rue raised an eyebrow at this and made a small, closemouthed sound of perplexity. "You'll understand when we get together," he promised.



Thorn spoke in tones barely above a whisper, almost all of the sharpness of his voice vanished in wonderment. "It must be. It can be nothing but the inner sight, Brother--a different form of it, to be sure, but her words ring true to me."

The priest replied slowly, still deep in thought. "Aruna, tell me--have you felt since your initiation any conviction that you were not to be a Guardian, any regrets?"

"N-no," she mumbled. Then, almost involuntarily, she explained, "I miss my sight...I miss the colors, and I want so much to see Grandfather's smile, just once--yet I had to do this..."

"Sacrifices always bring pain--just think of our Savior's anguish when the time came near for the Intervention. But like you, He knew He couldn't go back, not with two worlds...maybe more...to redeem. Don't condemn yourself for that feeling; it's natural. Now, Aruna, let me tell you why I believe you have indeed received this gift of the Spirit." He reached out and placed his smooth fingers upon Rue's hand. "You have shown intense dedication--endured loss and sorrow, and altered how you live every waking moment. God knows your pain as if it were His...but restoring your sight is something He will not do for you, out of His love. You know the danger you could be in if He opened your eyes." Rue nodded solemnly at this; the priest squeezed her hand to remind her that he had seen the gesture. "Thus, I believe He has given you this as a means of comfort, a way for you to experience colors without seeing. I also believe this--as with any gift of God--will be of use in your service to Him somehow. That is something we can work on discerning later, but for now, please put aside all doubts of your sanity...and rejoice!"

"Thank you, Brother!" A smile crept crookedly across Rue's face as she closed her eyes to receive the priest's benediction.

After the priest's blessing, Thorn offered his own expression of gratitude. "Only You, my Lord, can know the depth of my celebration in the knowledge of this gift You have bestowed upon Aruna. I thank You once more that when I was ready, You gave to me the inner sight of sound--and that now You give us each other in this new way, that we may speak of these blessings as those who know them intimately. Even my deepest love could never repay You. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit--amen."

Now Aruna understood how it was that Thorn's hearing seemed so much keener than even his fellow Guardians, yet he had always insisted that it had nothing to do with the sharpness of his ears themselves. The strategist clasped Rue's hands tightly within his; she felt a tear forming in her eye, joined by the taste of salt. Thorn's next words emerged from a tightened throat--rough with unshed tears of joy. "He gave you the colors...oh, Rue...I..." Thorn paused, drawing in a measured breath. His hands chilled slightly in hers. "I honor your destiny."

Rue gasped faintly. "Oh, God...Thorn, please...you don't have to--"

"Stop!" he hissed desperately as if in agony, pulling Rue to her feet as quickly as he dared. Then, with a swiftness that suggested equal parts fear that Aruna might recoil from him and fear of his own outpouring of emotion, he took Rue into his powerful embrace. She felt a shudder run through his body--an act of suppression that she realized must have become almost instinct to him as he fought down the futile impulse to weep. Resting her ear against his chest, she returned his caress.

Aruna inhaled slowly--and there they were: the airy-white scent of grass, and of earth, crimson like wine.