Sitara opened her eyes and looked around. She was in her own small room, alive and, better yet, not imprisoned.

She sat up in bed and noticed a small piece of paper next to her. The inside turned out to be blank. After a moment's consideration, she embraced her power and focused her will on the paper. Gilded letters appeared on its surface.

Omolara is satisfied. Meet tonight at the eighth bell.

Then it burst into flame. With a cry of surprise, Sitara dropped it. The paper disintegrated before reaching the bed.

She was safe. Her relief mingled with confusion while she struggled to recall the events of the day. The morning had passed too quickly. She'd been a wreck, unable to gather the courage to implant new thoughts in the keisara's mind with Omolara in attendance.

Then, as she brushed her majesty's golden hair, the keisara had surprised Sitara with some news. "Crown Prince Lievin is returning to Diodor tomorrow by ship. Omolara, you will transcribe a letter to my cousin Miren, who is still there in Hallvarr."

As the keisara dictated the letter, Sitara's mind raced. Had Masego known the keisara would be sending that letter? He must have. She shivered at the subtle mastery of his power. She needed to make sure she got on that ship to Diodor.

The solution was so simple, she nearly laughed. She needed to take the letter personally, but she dared not touch her gift with Omolara in the room.

If she failed, Masego would destroy her.

With the letter finished, Omolara excused herself to fetch an envelope. As soon as she left the room, Sitara reached for her gift.

It didn't respond.

She wanted to howl with frustration. She couldn’t bear to touch the power of darkness during the light of day, not when Omolara might return in seconds.

She redoubled her efforts, trying to calm her mind. Finally her gift came, but weak and hesitant. She seized on it and reached for the keisara's mind.

Those long nights spent breaching the keisara's will had developed in Sitara an affinity for the woman's mind, a deep understanding of how she thought. She easily linked to those thoughts and slipped a single idea into the current. Then she withdrew and drove her power away.

Several pounding heartbeats later, Omolara returned. As she sat down to finish preparing the letter, the keisara declared, "Sitara, I just had a thought. I will send you with Crown Prince Lievin. You will bear my letter and my love to my cousin."

Omolara looked up and frowned.

Barely able to breathe, Sitara managed a curtsy. "Are you sure, Your Majesty? I would hate to leave you for so long."

"Nonsense." The keisara gave a dismissive wave of one hand. "Omolara will attend me in your absence." After a moment's thought, she added, "I will give you another message for dear Miren, one I hesitate to write down."

Omolara seemed to relax, but as soon as they were excused, she pulled Sitara aside.

"Didn't you find the keisara's decision to send you to Diodor rather strange?"

Sitara frowned. "No, why?"

"Has she ever done anything like that before?"

"She has never sent me so far, no."

Omolara frowned again. "I must check the shields around the apartments."

"You're still planning to cast Truth on me later?"

“At the third bell.” Omolara smiled. "Have you ever experienced Truth?"

"No, but I hear it's very liberating."

"I'm glad you think of it that way." She lay a comforting hand on Sitara's shoulder. "Don’t worry, I won't forget."

Sitara had returned to her room and leaned against the door, so terrified she could barely stagger to her chair before her legs gave out.

Masego touched her mind.

What if Omolara senses this communication? she asked fearfully.

She will not. Now, open your mind to me.

What are you going to do?

You must surrender yourself completely to me. She will cast the Truth spell on you, but I will speak through your voice. I must have complete control to fool her.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

There was no alternative. Sitara had dropped her shields and forced herself to allow Masego into her mind. In their recent training, he had repeatedly driven his thoughts into her mind, but that had been different. This time he entered her mind and pushed her consciousness back into a tiny corner of herself.

The experience terrified her, and it took all her self-control to suppress the urge to drive him out. Then it was over and he possessed her.

She could not have regained control had she wanted to. She was a prisoner inside her own body. Panicked, she began to struggle, no longer caring how much she needed his help.

He held her captive and gently said, You will remember nothing.

Blackness descended over her.

He was right. A blank hole in her memory was all that remained of the time he possessed her. If only he had removed the memory of those first moments when he took possession of her.

She felt violated more completely than she ever could have imagined. Remiel had already violated her body and now Masego had violated her will with that terrifying spell. They had sullied everything that she was.

Sitara shuddered and hugged herself while cold chills rippled through her body. Masego had possessed her. He’d had access to every thought, every memory, every feeling. He had controlled her very body.

What had he done with it?

She stripped off her clothes, stood before the mirror and inspected herself carefully. There were no visible marks, but she would never be the same.

She dressed again and dried her tears.

Only with great effort did she force herself to slip away that evening to meet him. She didn’t want him touching her mind again. According to his note, they had fooled Omolara, and Sitara was grateful for that. She couldn’t bear to let him dominate her like that again. Better to die.

Could she stop him, though? She feared that she could not.

She realized then that she had made a mistake. Going to Remiel had been the wrong choice. Bajaran must not have realized how corrupt these co-revolutionaries were. The purity of his dream to salvage the empire was being twisted by Masego and Remiel.

How could such evil men bring about the positive changes she had dedicated her life to? They had violated her at every step, and they would do the same to the empire.

She had to get away, had to find a way to escape Masego’s influence. She would learn what she could from him, but only until she found a path to freedom. She could endure any torture they inflicted upon her with that goal fixed firm in her deepest heart.

She considered her plight as she traversed the long underground corridors beneath the palaces. She couldn't escape him here in Tamera, but she had already closed the door on the chance to escape to her homeland.

Sitara stopped abruptly as the answer came. Masego had provided her escape already. She would take that ship to Hallvarr, but she would never return.

Before she reached the sentinel tower and their regular mindlink meeting place, she buried her new plan deep in the recesses of her mind. She couldn't allow Masego in again or he might discover her secret. She held no illusions about how he would react to her planned deceit.

The first part of the lesson again focused on shielding, and she tried harder than ever. It was a painful failure.

She had learned so much, and the shields she placed around her mind were so much stronger and effective than before, but nothing proved good enough to resist him.

He battered her shields down easily and punished her, both mind and body, at each failure. At least he didn’t bother mining her thoughts. Perhaps after possessing her completely he thought he knew all her secrets.

You’re useless, he snapped in disgust, lashing her with his magic. He seared the inside of her mind and body as if with white-hot iron.

She screamed and writhed in pain, unable to form a coherent thought or rebuild her defenses.

He struck again, leaving her only barely conscious. I told you never to scream out loud. You have no discipline. I don’t know why I waste my time with you.

Defiant, she roused herself. What do you expect? No one could hold their tongue under that punishment.

Then perhaps you should shield yourself better, he mocked.

I’m trying!

You have so little vision. After a pause, he continued, I will demonstrate something since you are clearly not talented enough to figure it out for yourself. But this is the only time I will give you such assistance.

Thank you.

A student shouldn’t have to beg their teacher to actually teach. Masego’s grasp of the principles of instruction made no sense. If he was this twisted in other aspects of his life, she marveled that he could function at all.

Strike at me, he commanded.

Sitara did not hesitate. She gathered her will and unleashed a powerful dagger of magic, hoping to inflict a fraction of the pain upon him that he had just done to her. He deflected her blow easily. It accomplished nothing.

What did you learn?

That you’re stronger than me, she said sullenly.

No. Concentrate. Do it again.

Again she struck, but again he deflected the blow.

What did you learn?

When she did not answer, he snarled, You have one more attempt. I believe you will fail, but I hope you prove me wrong.

Instead of answering, she struck again. Since her power was so easily defeated when striking in a focused, dagger-like beam, she changed tactics. This time she slashed at his mind from the side, like a sword slicing across the face of an enemy.

Again her attack was deflected, but she felt something she hadn’t noticed before. She reached out again, but not to strike. Instead she extended her power gently to touch his shields like caressing fingers.

There.

Understanding came like a ray of light. It was so simple and yet so brilliant. She altered her own shields to match what he was doing.

What did you learn? he asked again, his voice gentler, approving.

Incredible. I would never have thought to angle my shields like that.

That is why you failed. You must use your imagination.

He struck without warning, but she was ready. Rather than holding her shields like a solid wall in an attempt to stop him with sheer strength, she angled them into a multi-faceted barrier that deflected his assault away.

It worked.

Even as she congratulated herself and reveled in the feeling of victory, he struck again. His second blow was slanted to strike a narrow section of her shield at right angles, thus negating the deflecting effect. Her shield crumpled under his focused power.

Much better, but remember that an experienced sentinel will alter his method of attack. You must be ready to alter your defenses.

I will, she promised.

You had better, because you’re not yet strong enough to fight a trained sentinel on equal footing. You must become smarter, more creative, or you will die.

Now, I will teach you two skills you will need for your journey.