Sometimes Life Gives More Than You Ask

Sometimes Life Gives More Than You Ask
Shadoe Masters

This story takes place in the fantasy world of Naphyra, in the Empire of Araith. If you have any problems with the occasional Araithian terminology, please see the Glossary at the end.

2494-08-02

Rain!

Bastian's head lifted to look out the lattice-covered window just as the heavy drops of rain started to fall. She'd known it would rain today. For three days the dark clouds had threatened rain, and passed them by, but today - on this most important of days - today it had rained.

Her mother had promised she could ride to Jetura Runash with her father if he returned by today. But that would only happen if weather held out, so of course it had failed to do so, and it had waited until the trip was nearly begun to start. All from pure spite, she was sure.

"You all have your assignments," Scholar Pateya announced. "You had all better run before it starts raining in earnest."

Everyone quickly gathered their things and hurried for the door, but Bastian wasn't in such a hurry. If she couldn't accompany her father, she'd be stuck in the kitchens with her mother. And her sister Thiann was sure to be there, gloating.

Even Pateya was in a hurry to be gone as she hefted her materials and held the door for Bastian in a mute prompt to leave. Bastian quickened her steps and scooted out the door only to pause again as Pateya secured the door.

The scholar gave Bastian a look of sympathy. "Perhaps you'll be given extra time for your history essay," she suggested.

Even Pateya had noticed the change between the two sisters when Thiann turned sixteen and started wearing adult robes. Less than a year apart by birth, the two girls had been treated almost as twins their entire life. But when Thiann started wearing robes, suddenly she had adult responsibilities and had little time for Bastian, still wearing the jackets and trousers of a child.

And Thiann never missed an opportunity to remind her of it.

"Probably not," Bastian grumbled, stepping off the covered walkway to cross the yard. She'd only gone halfway when the clouds broke, drenching the yard - and Bastian - with water. Bastian broke into a run and darted for the compound.

"Perfect," Bastian whimpered as she made the dubious protection of the walkway. She'd have to put up with Thiann's jibes all afternoon, and arrive looking like a drenched groundling as well. Leaning her pack against the wall, she wrung out her clothes as best she could, and tried to do the same with her long black braid. She considered putting it up, but knew Thiann would only chide her about not being quite old enough for that style.

Best to not give her the opportunity.

Bastian glared at the clouds overhead and wondered of what use it could be to be one of just three independent homesteads practically against Jetura Runash's walls if she was never allowed to go there. She didn't understand why everyone was so interested in home. Less than two dozen buildings here, and all thoroughly explored by every resident over the age of six, and none of them ever wanted to go explore somewhere else! All she ever wanted to do was explore another slice of the world and she couldn't get a ride to the next farm. "Pathetic," she grumbled. "Now I'll probably never get new robes and I'll be forced to wear Thiann's castoffs for the rest of my life!" She kicked a pebble off the walkway and watched it splash into a puddle.

"Are you going to dawdle out here all day?" her sister's strident voice inquired as she jerked open the door behind Bastian.

"Probably," Bastian replied calmly, hoping she hadn't jumped too far when Thiann flung open the door. As her mother was always reminding her, the best way to combat Thiann was not to notice.

"There's no time for useless daydreams while there's work to be done," Thiann reminded her, tight-lipped.

Apparently, Thiann could quote their mother, too.

With a sigh she hoped Thiann didn't notice, Bastian took up her pack and started for the door. "Wouldn't have been responsible to come in dripping water all over the floor," she chided quietly as she passed Thiann. "You should know that by now." She was rewarded by Thiann's eyes narrowing and knew she'd scored a hit. At least now she'd be able to go about her duties with a smile.

###

Bastian chopped the last of the baroroot and swept it into the bowl with a flourish. Pateya's historical essay, combined with Bastian's look of mortal disappointment over losing out on her promised trip had been good for half the afternoon off, anyway, and with the last of the baroroot in the bowl, she was free! She slid the bowl onto Esater's counter, waved to the smiling cook, and spun toward the door.

Panir stood there, blocking the opening, scanning the room with a calculating eye. Bastian groaned. It was never a good thing when the Headman came into the kitchens. His eyes lit briefly on her and moved on, and Bastian let out the breath she'd been holding. She went to gather her things as Panir moved into the room, making a course through the chaos toward her mother, Miara. The two spoke in hushed tones, their faces serious, then their heads turned, as one, toward her.

Bastian went over recent events in her mind, trying to recall anything she might have done or failed to do that would incur Panir's wrath. Panir was a good Headman, and fair - everyone agreed on that - if a bit more demanding than most folks liked. She wasn't afraid of him, precisely, but he was a very large man, and his booming voice could be so very... loud. Especially when he was angry.

She couldn't think of anything she might have done that would draw the attention of the Headman himself, so she figured the man must have something to say and wanted all the "children" gone while he did. She shot Thiann a glance and smirked at her sister's worried expression. At least this was one area where being underage was a blessing. Hefting her pack to her shoulder, she hurried toward the door and had already stepped through when her mother's voice stopped her cold.

"Bastian," she called, her voice serene as ever. "A moment, please."

Bastian stopped just out of sight, briefly considering just continuing on her way as if she hadn't heard. She recognized that deliberately serene tone that her mother used when she was angry or afraid. A stab of fear went through her when she couldn't think of anything she'd done wrong recently. Maybe someone was hurt... She took a heavy breath. "Must've forgotten something," she assured herself, and turned to poke her head back through the door. "Mother?" she inquired, her tone innocent as a newborn.

Panir stepped toward her, followed by her mother and Thiann. "Come with us, child," Panir rumbled gently, putting a hand on her shoulder to lead her down the corridor toward the grand hall.

Bastian noted the hint of sympathy in Panir's eyes and the carefully neutral faces on her mother and Thiann. Her father must be hurt on the road to Jetura, she thought. But there hadn't already been time for an accident and a messenger's return, and certainly her mother would never be so still if her father'd been injured. And she was sure she hadn't done anything wrong!

They stepped into the hall and found it buzzing with excited conversation. Four families where there, all with worried expressions on their faces. The back corner of the room had been sectioned off with screens and everyone kept shooting worried glances toward them. Bastian spotted Lurie and Cren, two friends her own age, seated at the nearest table and gave them a questioning glance. Lurie shook her head sadly and turned again toward the screens at the back of the room.

If Lurie was worried, then something was definitely wrong. As her mind started spiraling through the endless possibilities for disaster, Panir settled the three of them at one of the tables with a reassuring pat on each woman's shoulder, then moved toward the back of the room, stopping at each family to give a word or two of encouragement.

Bastian turned toward her mother. "What's going on?" she demanded.

Her mother and Thiann exchanged an uneasy glance. "It's--" began her mother, but there came a commotion behind the screens and everyone turned toward them, collectively holding their breath.

Anders, a boy less than a year younger than herself, emerged from behind the screen looking pale and shaken, with blue mark across the width of his forehead. His mother darted forward with a cry to enfold him in her arms.

Bastian started to turn toward her mother for an explanation when she saw a flash of orange fabric from the screened section. Her eyes riveted at the screens as an orange-clad arm emerged and beckoned. "A donarin!" Bastian breathed.

Her mother put an arm around her shoulders. "You're fifteen," her mother said gently. "It's time for your testing." Thiann patted her hand.

The testing! Bastian swallowed hard. The donarin would test her to see if she had any latent magical ability. If she did, she'd be shipped off to one of their enclaves to be made into one of them.

Suddenly, the idea of leaving home was not all that attractive.

"It's just a formality," her mother reassured her. "A donarin hasn't chosen a child from here in three generations."

"No worries," Thiann added, still patting her hand.

Bastian turned slowly toward Thiann and her mother.

"What..." she began. She swallowed. "What happens back there?"

"It's been so long," Thiann said, "I hardly remember."

"Enough, Thiann," her mother scolded. "No one remembers. Not ever." she shot a glance toward the screens. "Unless they've got the taint, that is."

"But that won't happen to you," Thiann reassured her. "That sort of thing doesn’t happen here." She patted Bastian's hand absently, her eyes straying to the screen. "You'll be just fine."

A boy named Auls, who'd been the next to go behind the screens, emerged, the same blue mark across his forehead. His mother pulled him to her and rushed him out of the room. The donarin beckoned again and Lurie shot to her feet, struggling to hide her fear.

"No," Cren said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'll go next." He gave Bastian one last look, shrugged, and ambled toward the screen.

Lurie and Bastian shared a look, then turned to watch.

Bastian strained to hear something from behind the screens - the donarin chanting, or Cren's tortured gasps - but there was nothing. She turned to Thiann. "Does it hurt?"

Thiann exchanged a glance with her mother then looked back at Bastian. "I don't think so."

Bastian nodded and turned back to the screens. Then another question occurred to her. "What does..." she gestured toward her forehead. "That mark - what does it mean?"

"Don't you know anything?" Thiann said acerbically - back to her old self, Bastian noted. "The blue mark across means you're free of the taint."

There was a scraping of chairs and their heads whipped toward the screen. Cren came out, shaking, but bearing the blue mark. Bastian smiled. Lurie shot to her feet and hurried to him, throwing her arms around his neck. Bastian grinned - that was starting to become obvious.

After a moment, Lurie stepped away and went behind the screen.

Cren turned to Bastian, giving her an encouraging half-grin, then turned to the screen, as if willing a mark on Lurie.

It seemed to take forever, then suddenly, it was over, and Lurie was hurrying toward Cren, a mark across her forehead, too. Bastian smiled, both in relief and at the antics of her two friends, who probably would not remain unjoined for long after getting their adult robes.

Then she realized: it was her turn.

She stood slowly, feeling her mother and sister's hands falling away. She felt a moment's panic when her legs seemed to stop working all on their own, but then remembered that Thiann had gone through this two years ago, and she'd survived, so it couldn't be that bad. She'd never hear the end of it if she let herself be a doni-heart now.

Well aware of the eyes on her, she squared her shoulders and strode firmly toward the back of the room. She paused at the screen, and looked one last time at Thiann and her mother - now clinging desperately to each other - then rolled her eyes at Lurie in a show of bravado and stepped behind the screen.

There was very little of interest to see besides the figure dressed in orange from head to toe. Just the small table she'd always seen under the window, adorned with a single candle and a bench on either side. She didn't know what she'd expected to see. The priests used all manner of implements, but she supposed donarin couldn't be much like them. And the stories about donarin couldn't all be true.

She hoped.

"You must be Bastian Tyrea," the voice within the orange hood said. "Please sit here."

Female, then, Bastian thought as she lowered herself onto the nearest bench. The donarin wasn't tall, about her own height, so that explained things.

"Elbows on the table, please," she said, as she sat on the bench opposite and did the same.

Bastian lifted her arms to settle her elbows on the table, which was so small, she had to put her elbows almost on either side of the candle. That's when she noticed the candle wasn't like any candle she'd seen before. Instead of a dancing yellow flame, it held a steady, unwavering white light. Before she could think, her hand reached toward the flame, to touch it, see if it was real. The donarin chuckled and Bastian snatched her hand away, lest she be tainted by the donarin's magic.

Though not fast enough to fail to notice that the flame made no heat.

"Curious, I see," the donarin said. "I was also, at my testing." Her sleeves fell away as she raised her hands, palms toward Bastian. Her hands were the fine, soft hands of a young Family scion, giving lie to the white hair that escaped her hood. Not like her own roughened fingers.

"Curiosity is a fine trait," the donarin went on. "Useful to those who venture into the world."

Bastian's chin went up. "I haven't ventured into the world," she said. "Probably never leave this farm."

Bastian could see a flash of white teeth in the shadows of the donarin's hood. "We shall find out about that today, won't we?"

Bastian looked down, reminded that the next few minutes would determine her fate for life. She took a breath and let it out slowly. Three generations, she reminded herself.

The woman spoke briskly, with the air of someone reciting a much-used speech. "I am here to test you for latent donarin talent which will manifest itself within the next few years if it hasn't already. I will also test you at this time for a potential to be chosen by the sumar." She continued more naturally, "It won't take a moment and won't hurt a bit, so let's get started, shall we?"

Bastian nodded mutely and wondered why the woman was trying to set her at ease.

"Place your hands against mine..."

After only a brief hesitation, Bastian did so, and the donarin curled her fingers, locking Bastian's hands against hers. She stiffened and instinctively tried to pull away.

"Relax," the donarin said softly, and her voice seemed to echo in her head. "Just relax and look into my eyes..."

Bastian felt the tension leave her body as she looked into the woman's eyes. A frisson of fear went through her as the donarin tilted her head and the light fell on eyes whiter than the blindest oldster. She realized she couldn't tear her eyes away and her heart started hammering in her chest as if it would break free and run, leaving the rest of her behind.

The donarin spoke again, nonsense syllables, but Bastian's heart settled and a tingling started in her hands. The tingling spread up her arms and into her chest, then moved down until she was a mass of tingles all the way to her toes. Then it receded, as if whatever energy that caused it was being sucked back out of her through her hands. She felt the last of it leave her and mourned its loss, even as she felt relief at the donarin magic's passing.

The woman spoke again, and Bastian heard a sound. High and clear, like a crystal bell, or like a woman's voice, she wasn't sure.

When the sound faded, she blinked, shaking off a strange lethargy, and found that the donarin had already released her and was standing over her, only the bottom half of the woman's face not cloaked in shadow.

"Did I pass?" Bastian mumbled, working up some false bravado.

The woman smiled and nodded. "You passed," she said, reaching beside her to dip a finger into a pot she held. "But your adventure is just beginning." She reached a blue-stained finger out and drew a line from Bastian's hairline to her eyebrows. "You may go, but we'll talk more tomorrow," she continued, putting the lid on the pot after the blue stain seemed to slide from her fingers back into the pot.

"I don't think so," Bastian muttered to herself as she left. She had no intention of ever speaking to another donarin as long as she lived. She stepped out from behind the screen and grinned at Lurie and Cren. "I got a mark too," she announced.

Lurie's eyes widened, and she stared in mute horror at Bastian's mark.

"Kreck!" Cren said, loud enough for the whole room to hear. No one said a word of admonishment to him for the obscenity. She thought she heard Panir echo him.

She turned questioning eyes toward her mother and Thiann. Thiann shrieked. Her mother threw her apron over her head and sobbed into it.

"What?" Bastian said to the room at large.

###

Bastian scrubbed at her forehead with the brush Esater had for pots until she saw blood drip into the sink. She rinsed off the soap and blood while fumbling blindly for the mirror she'd filched from Thiann. She blinked away the moisture and peered into it, searching for signs of progress.

It was no use - the mark was still there.

She groaned.

"It won't wash off," Thiann said from the doorway. "Not for a days and days, anyway."

She sounded almost... nice. Bastian thought she preferred the snooty look-at-me-I'm-an-adult-and-you're-not sister to the you-poor-tainted-thing sister.

"Mine stayed for almost a month," Thiann continued. "Except mine was..."

"Going the other way. Yeah, I know."

Thiann touched a hand to Bastian's forehead, then reached for a cloth to dab at the drops of blood resulting from her overenthusiastic cleaning. "I've never seen a mark other than the kind everyone else got. Mother explained that there are three: the kind everyone else got, going across in blue, yours, signifying a potential sumar-tani, and an orange one - up and down like yours, indicating a donarin. At least yours is blue."

Bastian groaned, palmed Thiann's mirror, and stormed out of the bathing room. She went to the room the girls used to share, and flung herself down on the bed, belligerently crossing her hands behind her head. She tried to convince herself this was not happening.

Thiann followed at a slower pace, and sat at the foot of the bed. "It's not as bad as it seems," she said.

Bastian frowned at her. "You mean I'm not being sent away from my home and family and being sold to the sumar?"

Thiann smiled. "No..."

Bastian raised an eyebrow.

"Well, yes," Thiann admitted. "But, as usual, you're exaggerating the situation."

"I don't see how," Bastian muttered.

Thiann huffed a sigh. "Haven't you always wanted to go to Jetura Runash? Didn't you natter on about Jetura for hours and hours and hours and--"

"Yes! Yes, I did. I wanted to see Jetura and Swedris and maybe even Caradyn. I wanted to get out of this tiny little homestead and see something... else." Bastian blew out a breath, slamming her hands down on the bed. "Just not like this. Not as a... Whatever I am now."

Thiann rolled her eyes. "You are a potential sumar-tani."

"But I don't want to be a sumar-tani! I just want to be..."

"What?" Thiann prompted when Bastian didn't finish.

Bastian looked away. "I don't know. Just not... that."

Thiann took her hand. "I've known you all your life, Bastian. And I've always known you wouldn't always be here in this little homestead. You want adventure, excitement, travel - everything this place can't give you."

"But--"

Thiann held up a hand. "I'm not finished." She looked down at their joined hands, then back to Bastian. "I always knew you'd be disappointed. I've only been to Jetura once. Mama's only been there three times." Thiann’s voice hardened. "You know as well as I do what you've got to look forward to: marriage, babies, work. The best you could hope for is for papa to find you a man from a Runash who'd be willing to tell you stories about it sometimes."

Bastian looked away. As much as she'd always tried to ignore the truth of what she said, it was hard to deny her view of her future.

"At least now you'll see all those places you've always dreamed of. You'll be adventuring, seeing new places, meeting new people--"

"And then be a slave to the sumar."

"Not necessarily," Thiann countered. "You're just a potential sumar-tani. Not all the potential ones are enslaved. I've heard that only about half of the children sent to the sumar are chosen."

"And then what?" Bastian demanded, pulling her hands away from Thiann. "Should I come back here? With this?" She slammed a hand into her forehead.

"It will be long gone by then."

Bastian sat up in bed. "But the taint won't be gone! I'll always be the tainted girl. The outsider. The one that reminds everyone of the ugliness in the world."

"You can't think of it that way, Bastian. You'll always be welcome here." She reached for her sister's hand, but Bastian snatched it away and sat on the other side of the bed facing away from her.

"You don't understand, Thiann. You never will. They're already looking at me like I'm some kind of monster. Lurie's mother wouldn't even let her near me. You saw."

It was Thiann's turn to look away. When Lurie, Bastian's best friend, would have gone to Bastian, her mother held her back, then rushed her out of the room. "They'll forget," she said.

"Three generations ago, a woman named Jara was found with the taint. They didn't forget about her."

Thiann had nothing to say. They'd all heard the story about Jara. She got to her feet. "Mother will be in soon."

Bastian sat in the dark a long time after she left.

###

"It isn't going to be as bad as you seem to think," the donarin said. Her name was Soleon.

They sat in Panir's office the morning after her testing. It was trying to be a sunny morning, but the clouds were moving in fast, and the sunrise shone into the room through the window, giving a glow to the woman's long white hair. Without her orange robes, the donarin was surprisingly normal-seeming.

If one ignored the eyes, of course.

"You seem the type to want to get out in the world," she said with a smile. "Aren't you curious to find out what's out there?"

Bastian sighed. "I suppose so." She thought about it a moment and realized it was true. She was excited about the trip. She'd dreamed of little else but the adventures she'd have on the road. But the dreams always ended with her going into the mouth of a sumar. "It's the end of the trip that bothers me. What's the point of seeing the world if I'm to be trapped in a Hulda afterward?"

Soleon laughed. "You won't be trapped in a Hulda. Sutani go everywhere."

"I've never seen one," Bastian challenged.

"That's because you've never left this homestead. They visit the cities mostly. But they go to other Huldas, nearby towns, and they're often guests at the local Runash if their Hulda is near one."

"They let them in a Runash?"

"Of course." Soleon leaned forward across the desk. "You don't have a disease, Bastian. You have an inborn talent that may help you be compatible to a sumar. That's a good thing. We need the sumar. We need you."

That just brought up other fears. "What if I go there and I'm not chosen?"

"Then you have a decision to make. You can stay at the Hulda in another capacity, go to a nearby city, find a guild to accept you, or come back here."

"I don't think that will be possible," she muttered.

"You never know. I've heard of many potentials who've returned to their homes. But that isn't something you'll need to decide for some years yet. You will be at the Hulda for many litters, and if you aren't chosen, you can decide then. I recommend you keep in contact with your family in the meanwhile."

"If they'll write to me."

"I'm sure they will, Bastian. Your mother and sister haven't given up on you yet, and neither has Panir. Besides, there's no use worrying over future problems. You've got a journey to make."

Bastian looked up with interest at last. "I'm going to Rassien Hulda then?"

Soleon shook her head. "Rassien's nearest, but the journey through the mountains is too difficult, and going around will take too long. I'm sending you to Drynargha instead. It will mean a longer trip, but I'm sure you'll be able to get a ride with a hagati or take stage travel."

Bastian looked at her, amazed. "I'd never have money for stage travel."

Soleon giggled. "You'll need no money Bastian. You're a potential now. It is the duty of all good Araithian citizens to assist you in your journey however they can." She pulled a pouch out of the pack at her feet and opened it, dumping the contents on the desk. It included a parchment, a few sintis, and a large medallion. The medallion looked almost like the one Scholar Pateya wore as a sign of her rank in the guild. Soleon picked up the medallion and passed a hand over it. The surface seemed to turn molten. Soleon looked up at her and gave her a reassuring smile. "You may close your eyes for this if you'd like."

Bastian closed her eyes, but opened them immediately, curious about what the donarin was going to do.

While she watched, Soleon made motions with her finger above the medallion, as if she was writing. As she did, designs appeared on the molten surface of the medallion, then resolved themselves into letters. She recognized her own name, then Soleon's, Drynargha Hulda, and the date. There were other symbols that she didn't recognize at all, and assumed those were donarin symbols that no one but another donarin would be able to understand. Once that side was filled, she passed her hand over it again and the metal solidified. She flipped it over and did the same thing again there.

"All finished!" She said at last and stood, walking around Panir's big desk to her. She slipped a strip of leather through the hole at the top of the medallion and went behind Bastian to slip it around her neck.

Bastian felt a slight buzzing vibration when Soleon fastened the leather, but was more concerned about the coolness of the medallion where it touched her chest. Just a moment before it had been molten, but now it was solid and cool. She felt along the thong to find the knot but couldn't find one. She shot a glance to Soleon, but the donarin just smiled enigmatically.

"You will need to wear that at all times and display it wherever you go. It is your sword and shield. It will tell people who you are and where you're going. None will dare harm you while you're wearing that, and it cannot be removed by any but a donarin." She scooped up the sintis and put them back in the pouch then handed it to her. "Here is some money for you. It shouldn't be necessary, so use it only as a last resort. Otherwise, save it for anything you may want to buy once you get to the Hulda. Potentials are not given an allowance - only sutanis get that."

Bastian took the money. This was new. No one had ever given her money before. She could buy robes! She could hire a cart to take her to Jetura Runash. She could pay someone to take this mark off her head! Just as her mind started spinning through all the possibilities of her newfound wealth, Soleon was moving on.

She took up the parchment and unfolded it, but there was nothing written on it. Soleon stared at it a moment, though, and suddenly the parchment was covered. "Here is a map to the Hulda with your route clearly marked. You'll be going through Jetura Runash, where you should get some kind of transportation to Lyrinthoda. That shouldn't take more than a few zhumas. Then from Lyrinthoda to the Hulda should take even less. You'll be on the road just over a month if you're lucky." She leaned forward conspiratorially. "And nearly two months if you're very lucky. But take no more than two months - that is all the time you're given for your travel."

Bastian took the parchment, but gaped at her, puzzled.

"If you decide to, Bastian, you will have fun on your journey. You will meet interesting people and do fascinating things - something you never would have had a chance to do here in your little homestead. The world is a big, exciting place full of wondrous things that you can experience or avoid, as you choose."

"Did you have fun on your journey?" Bastian asked.

Soleon's smile faltered and turned sad. "Not on my journey, no. But I had an orange mark on my forehead, and people fear donarins."

"People fear sutanis too," Bastian pointed out. "Even potential ones."

"Yes, here they do, in isolated homesteads full of people who fear the outside world. But out there... there are other, bigger things to fear."

"Like donarins," Bastian suggested.

"Exactly," Soleon agreed with a smile.

###

Bastian stepped out of Panir's office to find Thiann there. She'd been listening at the door, of course. Not that Bastian was afraid that she'd heard anything. Most people spent half their lives trying to find out what happened behind Panir's thick door and no one had ever succeeded.

"Where's mother?" Bastian asked. Thiann and Miara had walked with her to Panir's office just at dawn to meet the donarin and prepare for her journey. The big man had told her the donarin awaited her inside, and he scurried away as if the donarin was something to fear. After their meeting, though, Bastian wasn't afraid of her. She looked behind her toward Soleon and felt startled a moment at finding her back in those orange robes, shrouded from head to foot, only the tips of her long white hair visible. Bastian had to admit she looked a bit frightening that way, even knowing what was underneath.

"She decided there were a few more things you'd need for the journey," Thiann explained.

"If she finds any more things I need I won't be able to walk," Bastian complained. She took the lead toward the outer door.

"She's a mess, of course," Thiann explained, following quickly, trying to avoid being too close to the donarin behind them. "She's just trying to keep herself from thinking."

"About me," Bastian finished. She wished she had some way to keep from thinking too. She'd spent most of the night - between dreams of being eaten - thinking, listening to the room, unsure if she was looking forward to her new life or if she was terrified. This morning she'd examined every face, every chair, every nail in the floors, hoping she wouldn't lose the memory of her home.

They reached the outer door and Bastian groaned. The clouds had moved in and it was raining again, naturally. If there'd been any justice in the world, it would have been a bright, sunny day full of cool breezes.

But then, if there was justice in the world, her mark would have been across.

Almost everyone was there to see her off - but none would come too close. She just saw a sea of worried faces. Wondering if they were going to be next, Bastian suspected.

Strong arms wound around her suddenly and she turned to cling to her mother as she hadn't done even as a child.

"You take this," her mother urged, pressing a package into her hands. Bastian stuffed it into her pack without looking. "And don't talk to strangers. Watch for your father on the road to Jetura. He should be coming back by now. Don't forget--"

But Panir stepped up to loom over them then, and Miara stepped back, a frightened expression on her face. Bastian understood her fear. Panir prided himself on his control of every aspect of the homestead and he certainly hadn't planned on this. But Panir's words surprised her.

"I know you'll make us all proud, Bastian," he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I'm sure you'll be chosen and defend our lands and people as good as any sumar-tani ever has."

Bastian blinked up at him in surprise. These were not the words she'd expected. If the collective gasp she'd heard from the people around them was any indication, no one else had expected them either. Then she realized Panir had his hand extended. Feeling very brave, suddenly, she grasped his wrist, her expression as solemn as his. "I'll... do my best to make you proud."

Then Panir's eyes slid to the side and she noticed Soleon nodding approvingly next to her. She realized the donarin must have requested that Panir say something to soften the disgrace of having the taint. She wondered if donarin magic was involved. She examined his face to see if she could detect any signs of donarin tampering. All she saw was Panir's usual slightly harried expression.

Then Panir pulled his arm away and surreptitiously wiped it on his pants. The donarin was definitely behind this, she decided.

But no one else had seen his disgust, so the people around them were more cheerful, at least. Lurie's mother even let go of her long enough for Lurie to rush forward and hug her fiercely.

"Write and tell us you're all right," the girl whispered. "But send the letters to Cren."

Cren was behind her and hugged them both. "Tell us everything that happens," he whispered. "I don't want to miss a thing."

"We should go," Soleon said, interrupting the last moment she'd ever have with her friends.

"We'll miss you," they said in unison as they stepped back. The two almost always thought together. Bastian would miss that about them.

Just as they got out of the way, Thiann and Miara rushed forward and linked their arms with her as Bastian started toward the gates.

"Don't stop at one of those taverns," Miara said. "And make sure you find clean places to sleep at night. There's no telling what kind of parasites some places have."

As Miara continued her litany of advice, she turned to Thiann. They rolled their eyes together.

Before she knew it, though, Miara's litany of advice sputtered to a halt because they'd reached the homestead's gates. She'd been outside the gates before, of course, working in the fields, gathering berries and nuts, all the usual things. But this time, leaving the gates meant leaving all the safety and comfort and familiarity behind. Out there was a big new world full of mystery and doubt. And she wasn't ready.

She hesitated, lingering over her goodbyes, hoping for just one more minute as a free person of Araith, before she left her home, never to return.

"And don't forget," Miara was saying. "You watch for your father on the way to Jetura. He shouldn't be far."

Bastian smiled. At least she would get a chance to say goodbye. Although what he'd think of this mark on her face, she couldn't guess.

She knew one thing for sure though: He'd have no part of this doni-hearted lingering. What's done is done, he'd say. Best count the eggs that's left.

Soleon stepped through the gates and turned with an expectant look for Bastian. After one last kiss to her forehead from Miara, Thiann darted in for a quick hug. Bastian scanned the crowd around them, waiting for anyone else to come forward, but no one did. She smiled weakly and waved, then turned to follow Soleon.

She felt something, walking through those gates. A pull and then a release, a band that snapped. As she fell into step beside Soleon, she knew she wouldn't be returning to her home. Now all she had was the unknown.

"It won't be as bad as you think," Soleon said after they'd been on the road for a while. "There's a whole world out there to explore. And you'll be able to see it all from the back of a sumar."

Bastian considered the donarin. "Have you ever been on the back of a sumar?"

She thought Soleon smiled. "Twice, actually."

"And they didn't eat you?"

"Obviously not," Soleon said with a chuckle.

Bastian scowled. "Was it very frightening?"

Soleon's hood nodded. "Very."

Bastian whimpered.

"But I'm told the sutani's aren't frightened when they ride."

They reached the top of the farthest hill Bastian had ever been to and she turned. A few more steps would take her out of sight of the homestead forever. It looked small from here, just a couple dozen buildings around a courtyard. She thought she saw her mother and Thiann waiting at the gates. With a last wave, she turned and followed Soleon, and in a few short steps, her home was out of sight. She had officially started a new life.

END


Introduction and Glossary for Araith

Araith is the central Empire of Naphyra. It is an Empire with 16 Provinces governed by the 16 Noble Families. It consists of a mainland flaked by the Hovan, Tuanchi, and Milachaven kingdoms, and a penninsula.

baroroot: a yellow, potato-like vegetable
Carradyn: Capital city of Araith
donarin: magic users feared and usually hated throughout Naphyra for their past excesses; illegal in Hovan territories and severely regulated in Araith, where they must wear orange robes when outside of their enclaves; useful only for running beacons and detecting potential sumar-tani and emerging donarins
doni-hearted: a doni is a lizard-like creature with wings; there are domestic and wild varieties; all are known for being skittish and cowardly; a derogatory term for a coward
Drynargha Hulda: A hulda in the southern Odraine Province
hagati: trader train
Hulda: enclaves for the sumar
Jetura: A Noble Province at the northeast of the Araithian peninsula; the Runash is located on the southeastern coast.
krecked: an obscenity; fucked in a particularly uncomfortable way
Lyrinthoda: A city in Odraine Province that guards the pass between the Lirem-tesh and Kalyr-tesh mountain ranges; it is considered the central gateway between the northern mainland and the southern peninsula of Araith.
Rassien Hulda: A hulda in the eastern Jetura Province
Runash: the principal residence and headquarters for a Noble Family; large farms with a support population
sinti: small denomination coins
sumar: large flying feline bred and trained as defense against the hudali or border defense
sumar-tani: riders and bondmates to the sumar
sutani: Short form of sumar-tani
Swedris: Province in northeast Araith
zhuma: a "week" of five days