Where intricate, colorful rugs covered the inside of Zayla’s tent, Macien’s looked as simple as the healing tent Lilau lived in. Nothing but leather hanging from poles. The way Radai talked about Macien, Lilau wondered how much of the simplicity was from being in a less exulted position, and how much was from seeing less comfortable housing as yet another method of training. It was a mindset Lilau could understand.

Makotae pranced beside Lilau as she neared the entrance flap to Macien’s tent. I’m ready for more training, as well. Do you think she’ll include me?

If not, I’m sure you can go on a run while I train.

I’d better hurry then. The sun is getting hot.

Lilau nodded in agreement and focused on the flap in front of her. “Weapons Master Macien. I am here to train.”

Her answer came from behind. “She’s out training already.”

Lilau turned to see Radai approaching with a curious look on his face. “Does this mean you’ve decided to stay?”

That answered Lilau’s question of whether or not Macien had warned him off at the cooking fire. Not that she blamed the Weapons Master. No sense wasting time on someone half gone. “Yes, I have.”

“Good. Even though that still means we can’t have our morning talks anymore.” Radai made a show of sighing and shrugging. “Macien would skin me if I kept one of her trainees from their morning duties, so I’ll see you at the cooking fire tonight.” An odd lilt entered his voice, framing his sentence halfway between a question and a statement.

“I’ll be there.”

“Good.”

Makotae piped in as Radai turned to leave. You should ask him where Macien is training.

Lilau relayed Makotae’s question, and got a vague, but workable, direction from Radai. She thanked him and pulled herself onto Makotae’s back. Talking to Radai had caused an odd itch under her skin. One she planned to expel with hard exercise.

The training area looked little different from the rest of the desert. Dust, sun, and heat in equal measure in all directions, an appreciable, but not long, ways away from the Silent Hunter’s camp. Macien stood at the center of a loose semi-circle, consisting of the hunters who had escorted Lilau to Narasten, as well as a few others. All were clothed head to toe in the near identical thin, flowing robes of the Cat Tribe. Each pale silhouette blended in well with the surrounding sand.

Macien had been shouting at those in attendance, but quieted as she noticed Makotae approaching. “I see you’ve decided to join us. A bit late, but I can overlook that for today.”

The command in her tone made Lilau’s muscles tense. I need this training. Don’t lash out.

Unless you need to, Makotae added.

Macien ignored Lilau’s silence and turned back to the trainees. “Continue your drills. Sets one, two, three. Ten times each.”

The trainees rushed to obey, finding partners and drawing long, curved weapons Lilau had learned were called ‘sabers’.

“As for you.” Macien flowed around a sparring pair toward Lilau. “You came with a bow and dagger at your side. Let’s start with one of those, shall we?”

She pulled a dagger from the folds of her robe and held it out by the tip of the blade. The silver blade, in contrast to the sabers clashing around them, was perfectly straight. It stretched nearly twice the length of Lilau’s hand, and a third across.

A groove ran down the center, which, along with the tapering edge, reminded Lilau of a leaf. The hilt shone off-white in the sun. Bone, with carved symbols down its length.

Lilau took it carefully. Its hilt was a bit too large, the weight a bit too heavy in the front. Clearly made for someone larger. She clamped her hand around it. A feeling of power she hadn’t felt in months rushed through her. She had teeth again.

One side of Macien’s mouth quirked up in a small smile as she produced an almost identical dagger. “Dagger set one. Watch me. Do as I do until it becomes instinct.”

*****

Lilau shifted closer to the cooking fire. Her muscles groaned in protest. The retreat of the sun rapidly cooled the air, something she’d normally revel in. Tonight, she just felt like she’d been beaten. Macien hadn’t touched her, unlike some of the other trainees, nor had anyone else, yet the simple, constant repetition of the dagger attacks and parries she’d learned proved more than enough to tax her unconditioned body.

Radai returned with their bowls, handing one to her as he settled next to her. “I’d say it gets better, but it never did for me.”

Lilau frowned. “I thought you didn’t train with Macien.”

“Oh, I did. Leader Zayla commanded it. Only after I proved how inept I am at fighting did she back down and let me return to my true passion.”

“Storytelling?”

“Exactly. I’ve been told I have a flair for it. What do you think?”

“Macien doesn’t seem to be one to give up easily,” Lilau said, ignoring his question. “What did you do to get out of training?”

“Oh… uh….” Radai rubbed the back of his neck. “I… might have passed out. More than once.”

“Passed out?”

“I don’t cool off easy, and Macien is allergic to breaks.”

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Lilau raised an eyebrow, but decided not to pursue the subject. What others were or were not capable of wasn’t her concern. Besides, Macien had kept them all moving for nearly the entire training session. A fact echoed in her tightening muscles. “Right.”

Radai glanced at his stew, primarily musky goat this time, then back at Lilau, his eyes searching.

Lilau’s skin crawled in response. “What?”

“I heard you spoke to Narasten.”

The way he said it was calm, collected, almost uninterested. The opposite of everything Radai stood for, and a sure sign his interest couldn’t be higher.

“A Fokla claiming to be Narasten,” Lilau said. “While I’ve been told the description fits, I don’t have any way of knowing for sure.”

“A Fokla can lie?” Radai leaned forward, eyes wide.

“Yes.”

He waited for her to continue. A silence stretched between them, growing heavy enough Lilau hoped he’d get the idea and let her eat in peace.

“What did Narasten look like?”

Lilau sighed. It looked like she wasn’t getting rid of the storyteller until she told a story of her own.

By the end of her tale, Makotae had returned, their food had cooled, and Radai’s eyes had grown as round as a small child’s on their first trip out of the village.

“You’re really going to train with Narasten?”

“Yes. After I eat.”

Radai looked down at his bowl as if it had appeared on its own. “Eat. Of course. Sorry.”

At least he seems excited. Makotae huffed from his lounging spot a few feet away. He looked far better than Lilau felt, mainly because Macien had left him alone, although she promised mounted combat training in the future.

The discomfort of conversation had faded enough to let her stomach growl. Loudly. Lilau shoveled food into her mouth. He should be concerned, like everyone else.

It is smarter.

Perhaps being a storyteller requires less survival instinct.

Then there’s little wonder why he’s the first one I’ve met.

*****

Narasten stood before Lilau, the Fokla’s light a star in the dark night. Makotae paced the perimeter, still grumbling about her decision to come out into the desert alone to meet a powerful Fokla neither of them trusted.

Despite Makotae’s complaints, Lilau knew this was something she had to do by herself. Already she could feel some of the tension in her muscles melt away, despite leaving her essence-sapping medallion in her tent. It had been so long since she and Makotae had been away from people, she’d almost forgotten what it was like to relax. Not that she could relax completely.

Close your eyes and seek the fire which burns within you. Narasten’s thoughts brushed past, a hot breeze in the coolness.

Lilau rested her hands on her knees, her crossed-legged sitting position as comfortable as she could manage. She closed her eyes and reached down. The ember in her core leaped into a small flame. She jerked away.

No. Stay. Do not run from the fire. Absorb the heat. Radiate it outward into the night.

Last time that happened, it was less radiating, more exploding.

Because you did not make it happen. Control the essence, or it will control you.

Lilau gritted her teeth, told Makotae to back up more, then did as Narasten asked.

She imagined herself one of the sun-baked rocks in the desert. The fire of the sun heated her to boiling even as she exuded enough heat to burn. The fire in her core built, pushing under her skin, threatening to burst. Out!

The pressure lessened, and the surrounding desert lit up. Gray covered the dirt, specks of brighter colors dancing on the surface and in its depths. Farther below, a larger blot of color in the shape of a burrowing lizard, scrambled about its tunnel as it attended to its nightly needs. Glittering dots darted through the air as insects danced.

Her newfound sight encased her like a bubble, reaching out a couple of body lengths in any direction. It was strange, yet somehow natural, much like her ability to learn languages. Perhaps it was another ability she’d been born with, but simply hadn’t known how to do? No. That made little sense. All of it stemmed from the meddling of Fokla.

Focus.

The heat flared. The pressure under Lilau’s skin intensified, setting fire to her skin. No, no, no. Her eyes flew open, then clamped shut. The bubble had popped, replaced by a world as bright as the sun. The essence spiraled out of control.

It rushed out of her, but not as an explosion. It flowed toward Narasten as if caught in a raging river, leaving Lilau’s inner fire a dull glow, and her limbs heavy.

It reacts to your negative emotions.

Surprise tinged Narasten’s thoughts. Lilau opened her eyes. It took far more energy than she expected. She glared at Narasten. Why do you sound surprised? I thought you knew how to handle essence.

I am nothing but essence, child. I’m filled with more every day. Of course I know how to control it, or I wouldn’t be standing here.

Then what’s the problem?

Your essence reacts like a wounded animal. The smallest threat causes it to lash out with all its might. You lack even the simplest command of it.

Lilau gritted her teeth, choking back a vitriolic response. Narasten didn’t need to know that fact was the only reason she’d come back, or that a ‘helpful’ Fokla stabbing her in the back had caused her sudden jump in power. I got this power… quickly. Spirit Poisoning, Inalia said.

Spirit Poisoning kills those without the innate ability to use essence, and cripples nearly all who can. The fact you’re hale is a testament to the blood flowing through your veins. Are you saying you’ve had no training in controlling essence?

Narasten was digging, and Lilau didn’t like it. It didn’t need to know about her past to teach her, and she had no desire to share.

Your heart is closed, Rae-Lini. You do not wish to share your pain with me. That is fine. But if you are to ever find happiness, you must learn to let others in.

Lilau let out a clipped, bitter laugh. For a supposed Guardian with essence forced down its throat, it sure acted gullible. Letting people in leads to more pain, Narasten. I’d thought you’d have that figured out even better than I do.

My condition arises from my own failings, which I mistakenly taught my children. A parent must take responsibility.

I am no mother.

No. You have clearly suffered at the hands of others, and I believe your blame is well-placed. Yet how long will you continue to let others hurt you?

You are the one suggesting I do.

I suggested you finally find peace. You wish to help others, yet hate to let them help you. You live on the outside. Always looking in, always longing. Your suffering continues as long as the walls you’ve built, the walls those who hurt you made you build, stay in place.

Lilau stood up and dusted herself off. She didn’t need to listen to this drivel. If Narasten would not teach her what she needed to know, she’d rather be elsewhere.

You shun authority. I do not wish to hold power over you. If you would stay, I can give you the power you desire. The power to control what is within, and to control that which is without.

Lilau snorted. For not wanting to hold power, the Fokla sure liked to lecture.

If it really is a Guardian, it’s the first one to not try to kill us on sight, Makotae offered.

Apparently, Narasten wasn’t the only one giving out unwanted advice. I didn’t come here for relationship advice, Makotae.

Fair enough. He receded from her mind.

Narasten had fallen silent as well, settling back on its haunches with its front paws crossed, solidifying its appearance as a massive, glowing cat. Its face remained placid.

What would you do if I leave?

I would mourn the loss of what could have been.

And if I stay?

Perhaps I may gain some measure of atonement.

You’d be the first Fokla I’ve seen to care about such things.

A pity, then.

They stared at each other for a moment longer as something familiar built in Lilau. The Fokla needed her, Zayla’s camp needed her. If Narasten was to be believed, the entire Cat Tribe lands needed her. The compulsion grew until it settled like an inescapable trap over her mind. She would stay, learn, help, even if it cost her in the end. She had to.