Closed [The Wildlands] Running Blind (Abashai)

[Nya Winters]

He didn't remember? The Kelvic could have easily severed his head from his shoulders for the casual way he tossed out that information. Arrogant. He was arrogant. But it wasn't surprising. Ravok had done that to people. It had either torn them apart and battered them down or boosted them up with a false sense of themselves and made them the worst sort of terror. Nya was unsure which Abashai was. She could feel his thoughts, his feelings, but he was uncommitted and his thoughts had no real manifestation as far as she could tell. He was level headed and dispassionate. He wanted the baby but he didn't seem afraid of her. Nya didn't care. She shut out his thoughts and feelings easily. She was no voyeur on the warrior's life or his mind. She wasn't sure why she could feel his thinking, but it didn't disturb her - almost as if she'd known at one time and a part of her still remembered - so it wasn't that big of a deal now.

Nya rose then, leaving the child bundled at her feet. She glanced at Abashai through her tangled mess of hair, and then turned her back on him and walked off. She always camped by water, not on top of it, but near enough to be out of the sight and smell of those coming to utilize whatever stream or body of water she'd found. She took with her a bar of soap from her backpack, and simply left him with the child. Nya wasn't worried he'd take the child. She wasn't worried he'd harm the infant. So she walked away, leaving Abashai to deal with the boy while she dealt with herself.

She stripped off her clothing at the stream, liberally used the soap on them and washed everything - as thread bare thin as it was. Then she hung it up in a tree overlooking the stream with the intentions of letting it dry, knowing it more likely to freeze in the cold. She was freezing in the cold as well standing naked in the stream and washing her skin. Her hair was almost impossible but she gave it an attempt missing the servant girl who would comb and dress it daily. When it was clean but no less tangled, Nya shifted into her forest cat form in a slow hesitant way. She ranged up and down the stream looking for scent before coming across deer sign and following it. Scat lay about, literally telling her which way the deer were headed and how far away they were.

Nya stalked them the most of the rest of the evening, sneaking up on them when they had bedded down for the night. The Forest cat had forgotten what it was like to get down wind and belly crawl through the forest slowly edging closer and closer to the resting deer. When she was close enough for a couple of bold bounding pounces, she launched herself, coming down on one deer and snaping its neck hastily. The other deer were scattering, but she wasn't about to let them get far. Lifting her head from where she caught and snapped the deer's neck in her mouth, she let her motion carry her onward and lunged into the scattering panicked herd. Outstretched swipes missed two deer still lingering in the confusion so the forest cat had to bound upwards and out having to give chase to another one that looked fat and slower than most. She buckled down and ran, digging her paws into the forest duft. But the deer was making its escape, all but free until it misjudged and bounded into a tree that tangled it. Nya saw its mistake, the way it had shied from a shadow instead of darting through it and launched herself. She took the slightly stunned deer down, killing it neatly as well.

Panting, she laid down with the kill for a moment to catch her breath, then picked up the deer in her mouth and carried it back to where the first lay dead. Fumbling and fussing, she managed to load both carcasses over her shoulders, shrugging them into a comfortable position, and then headed back towards her meager camp and the man that waited there. She took her time, going slowly, balancing her load. Then, once she was on the fringes of the camp, she paused...

Stepping out into the light, she shrugged off one of the deer near Abashai then turned, sniffing at the sleeping baby, and then moved to the other side of the fire where she dumped the other carcass and laid down. She began feeding on it immediately, chewing on the leg bones, crunching them up in her great teeth and swallowing them whole. She didn't pick through the fur and bones, but just slowly and methodically chewed up everything, eating it the whole of the corpse, everything but the offal which she threw on the fire.

[Abashai]

Nya's response was unmistakable. Anger and disgust, the emotions that crossed the bizarre link between them assured Abashai that the Kelvic was indeed the victim of his great transgression, and even more...she remembered. It was a revelation he had already assumed, but looking at the disheveled woman, to look first hand upon the victim of his profound betrayal in full realization, to feel the thinly veiled spite that she harbored for him, laid a stone-like weight on his chest.

Nya stalked off, no longer threatened by Abashai or his intent to take the baby, as if he were not worth the bother, he thought. The tightness in the Benshiran's chest persisted, a nagging, hot pain that he resisted. Stepping toward the child, Shai knelt down, carefully lifting the sleeping baby into his arms, cradling him closely. The child was clean, head to toe, and Shai was sure he was kept so by Nya's bathing tongue. With black hair, his son had his mother's light skin, but his father's crystal clear blue-green eyes. The cherub-like features of the sleeping boy split the stone of pain in the father's chest, as if a flood had built up behind it and burst it apart. Abashai could finally hold his son. Kialandra and Nya could no longer keep him from his child. Sychar was the only thing in his life he understood, all that he knew was real. The rest was lies and deception and confusion and mystery. The man hunkered down over the bundled baby, rocking slowly, humming some traditional Beshiran lullaby he didn't know he remembered.

After many chimes passed and the sun began to set, Abashai reluctantly set the baby down again in the soft grass, still slumbering. He moved his gear into the camp, separating it from Nya's by some distance, and herded the goats closer to encampment. After stoking the fire, Shai gathered a few more pieces of wood scattered close by. As he fueled the flames, blowing on embers to quicken the fire again, Abashai's mood sunk into a pensive quiet. Since leaving Ravok, he had toiled mentally over the cracks of truth that had opened in the deception covering his mind like a carapace. The Benshiran knew Kialandra kept things from him, even lied to him. Impressions of Nya Winters haunted him, significant but unexplained.

But in the few bells since he came upon the Kelvic and the baby, Abashai had received revelation as if standing under a waterfall with his mouth opened. In the quiet of the twilight, the sober mind of the benshiran began to piece together his past. They had been bondmates, a consensual union between them. Watching Nya swim nude in a pool, the forest cat fighting a Talderian bull elk, the gift of a saddle custom made to fit Nya, each recollection nursed from his subconscious with effort. Each memory, linked to the next, released more of his soul, revealing as well the kind of man he had become.

Sitting by the fire, the baby next to him, Abashai opened his hands, examining his palms, fingers curling to brush the thin scars at the heel of each, carefully cut to avoid marring the marks of Yahal. Without much effort he suddenly conjured a small measure of res into one palm, forming a miza-sized amount of sand, which he poured out onto the ground. Abashai remembered the induction, the intimate flow of res between them, the night of revealed secrets and...

Fumbling at the buttons of his shirt, Abashai opened up the garment to expose his chest. In light of the waning sun and waxing fire, the Benshiran looked down at the mark below his sternum. It was the Lacun mark of an ended union, death or separation from someone to whom he had committed his life. The design featured a stylized feline, a predator graceful and powerful. It had been his wife, it had been Nya. Then the dark recollection began.

The prison. They had been on an important journey, but taken to the prison by the Ebonstryfe. Sweat beaded up on Abashai's brow as the hidden mental images broke free in his mind's eye. Attempts to comfort one another in torment, separation, pain, lies. They hurt her, broke her...made him watch. Kialandra was there, shaping him, manipulating him. They made Nya helpless and useless..in the end...he remembered, the line of men taking her, she was a mindless husk of a person, he had thought, doomed, he had been told. Release her, let her go, it is better for her, they had said. And Abashai did...he turned his back on Nya Winters, pulled his love and support and his being away from her. But she was very much aware. Then he heard it, in his head as strongly as he had that day...Nya came alive, screaming for her mate as she was dragged away,

"...why? Abashai why?..."

Abashai's stomach lurched, and he threw himself to his hands and knees, vomiting in the grass. He kept wretching until he heaved up bile. It kept echoing in his head...

"...why? Abashai why?..."

He groaned mournfully, spitting the vomit from his mouth. Anger, horror, guilt and pain boiled over his soul. His hands clutched his hair at the sides of his head. Abashai had made Nya what she was. He had let them break her and then he destroyed her.

"Bastards!" He cried aloud, waking the baby. More words formed on his lips, Shiber curses and worse, but all that spilled forth were plaintive growls. Abashai pressed his face into the dirt, the dry autumn grass muting his abject mourning and fuming rage. As the traitor expelled his helplessness against the ground, Sychar squirmed on his blankets, gurgling and cooing. Panting, Abashai raised himself and looked down at his son. As the man looked upon his innocent son, he wrestled with his seething agony until it was forged into resolve. They would not win...he had escaped, Kialandra was dead, Rhysol be damned. He had his son.

And then there was Nya. Though the affections they had shared had were not rekindled, there was a tangible connection, and with the profound regret he experienced at the memory of his treachery, latent feelings had surfaced. Nya was no longer just a key to his past, she was his past. The Kelvic may hate him, even despise him, but he could not let Nya Winters slip away either. There was a significance to them, when they were together. Abashai had to know what it was. He owed Nya, he owed her anything he could give her.

The Benshiran felt stripped. A dank cloak of deceit had been shredded, but what he was underneath was still confusing and incomplete. One thing was certain, he was no longer the lackey of Black Sun, nor the victim of ignorance. Abashai had been the strength of the bonded pair, though he didn't realize it at the time. It was his natural resolve that bubbled to the surface, and he stood, planting his feet in a firm, almost defiant posture. The Benshiran's hands lifted again, palms up, again examining the shiber characters etched into his skin, divine marks Kialandra could not erase. Hands lifted to the sky, palms up, head tilted back, Abashai lifted his voice, native shiber spilling from his lips as he offered up a prayer to a neglected god.

Once his supplications were made, Abashai settled again by the fire. The baby stirred now, and Abashai picked him up and placed him in his lap. Chimes were lost as the Benshiran stared into the fire, allowing the dancing flames to nearly entrance him. A subtle brushing of grass drew his attention to the approaching dire forest cat, the Kelvic dropping a deer nearby, dragging the second kill to the other side of the fire, where she began to devour the prey. Setting the baby down, Abashai retrieved a small dagger from his pack. Pulling off the sheath, he gave it to his son, who fumbled with it between tiny, chubby fingers, ogling the designs stamped into the leather. It had been a gift...from her.

No words were spoken, the only sounds were the crunching and tearing of flesh and bone as Nya ate and Abashai dressed the deer she had given him. The Benshiran sliced off several hunks of lean meat, piercing them with a sharpened stick and leaning the flesh over the fire. The entrails from his deer were tossed in the fire as well.

By the time he had prepared his carcass, Nya had all but consumed her animal, and Abashai checked on the baby before circling the fire to approach the Kelvic. She was large and menacing, even lounging by the fireside, but as beautiful as she was his new found memories.

"I remember." His voice was firm, but reverent. "I remember what happened, and what I did. I remember it all...Nya." He reached to unbutton his shirt again, pulling open the garment to reveal her Lacun mark on his chest. Words failed the Benshiran. No simple spoken apology could erase the crime, what words could appease the seasons of torment he had left her to endure alone? What love they once shared was either gone, or buried deep in their damaged souls. That did not concern Abashai at the moment. Earning Nya's trust and forgiveness would be a long enough journey as it was. But he had resolved to do just that. The repentant Chaon knew there was more between he and the Kelvic, much more, that needed to be uncovered. Nya Winters was not just his past...something told him she was his future as well.

OOCSorry it is so long...maybe trying to do too much in one post.

[Nya Winters]

Nya looked up from where she was chewing on the last of the skull of the deer. He could sense she was focused on getting to the brains, slowly, taking her time... trying to distract herself from every emotion he felt, every thought that blazed through his mind as he sat on the opposite side of the fire cooking his meat and beating himself up over things Nya knew he could not control.

She heard his words but made no response.

The cat nosed the skull away, briefly pawing at a horn and then discarding it. She was full, even though she would have chewed and forced down the skull anyhow. It felt good, the act of eating, and was calming in its own primitive way. It was hard for her to be human when she was so fully a cat. Being the cat was what had protected her. Even now it was still protecting her. Nya rose, stretched and belched in a way that a human would find offensive. But her cat senses took satisfaction in it. She stretched one paw out then the other, leaning downward and stretching. Her stomach was distended and she liked the feeling of being painfully full. She pushed forward, leaving her hind legs back and stretched that way as well. Her tail snapped, her spine popped, and even more pleasure coursed through her. Full. Free. Content.

She stalked around the fire, passed where Abashai stood before her, and the storm in his mind, and picked up the baby in her mouth. She circled once, twice, then laid down in a nice ball, tucking the child in by her belly fur. She swiped his forehead with her tongue and brought her tail up so it thumped the ground a few feet away. Then she started purring lightly, settling her head so she could stare at the child unblinkingly, her brlndled fur vanishing into the quickly falling darkness.

The cat let all the tension drain out of her. She let all of Abashai's emotions go too. They weren't hers. They had no place in her life. She'd seen the marks and truthfully had no understanding of what they meant. He might have thought she remembered everything, but the truth was she did not. The forest cat did, but her memories were disjointed and slanted with the opinion that humans were worse than animals.

When she spoke, her voice was clear and human in his mind. They'd both forgotten they could do it. But the cat remembered. And it was in many ways the cat that spoke to Abashai, not in fact his human wife. And thought he cat had once considered him her mate and her equal, the lines were blurred now and lost in pain and fear and all of Rhysol's influence.

"I remember being in a cage and neither of us having much choice or control over what happened to us and what we did. The way humans think, beasts should be in cages. But in this case, the beasts were outside and the educated and wise locked within. I do not remember what that mark on your sternum means. But I remember you getting quite a few of those scars. I know those marks are important to my humanity and to your feelings. But they mean little now, Shai. What has meaning is the wind and the food in our stomachs and that we are without bars. You should be grateful for the small things. I know I am." The cat said with a slow deliberate glance at him. Her stare was heavy with the weight of her judgement, and tinged as it was with Chaon, that judgement was no judgement at all.

The voice in his head was inescapable.

"Look forward. I will not be caught again. Sleep if you want. I will watch through the night. This child, this little one, will not belong to them the way we belonged to them. She did something to him. That woman you were with. He stinks of power no child should have. They will want him back. I do not know why he smells off, and I can not find any marks on him. But even the winds say he is not normal. I feel worry for him. I want to go to the Fortress city and talk to the people there. I remember a lab and doing great things with magic. I need to relearn that art. There are powerful things we have and can find. After seeing the Black Sun I know they must be stopped. The Knights will oppose them. I will seek refuge with them for the child and myself... you too if you come. And in exchange I will tell them what I know and what I can learn. And I will give to them what I can find for them to help in the battles that will come in the now and in the future." Nya said, her eyes moving from Shai's form to the child's tiny sleeping form.

One of his arms had wiggled free from his swaddling cloths and he was busy fisting his hand in Nya's fur - painfully - though she ignored it.

"You of all people..." her words echoed in his mind. Strong. They were strong words, not the words of the broken human Nya sometimes let see the light of day. "... should know the past is not something we can change. We can only control the future." She said softly.

But he could feel her lies. He could physically feel the strength at the forefront, but tilting his head or forcing his concentration, he could feel something else within the resonance of her sound. Underlying the cat was fear and pain. Underlying that was the sensation of continued abuse. Concentrating even harder he could feel the iron ring afixed around his neck, holding his head chained inches from the stone ground. He could feel the bare stone of the prison digging into his raw battered knees as he was forced to kneel, vulnerable, and ready for the abuse that had happened. He could almost feel the man standing in the adjacent cell watching dispassionately as stranger after stranger came in and laughed at the bound kelvic then used her body for their pleasure.

The cat was brave and fierce and protective. But he could feel the battered human shivering in the back of her mind still quietly begging for death. The cat never let on. It was as if that Nya didn't exist for her. It was as if she refused to let that humanity free because of its broken weakened state. It was as if the cat rejected it utterly. Abashai was dealing with the forest cat and her alone, not the human. The human, as of right then, was not something anyone wanted to deal with. Not really.

[Abashai]

Abashai knew well enough the cat could understand him. He knew Nya the woman and Nya the cat were one. Yet, As he addressed her for the first time in her feline shape, What he sensed from her was far from the anger and thinly veiled despair the woman Nya had effused. All he felt from the great forest cat was the intent required to extract every bit of the brain from the cracked deer skull. She offered no response to his confession, as if she were truly just an animal devouring her prey with little concern for the man that watched her.

Likewise, with leisure the Kelvic finished her meal, stretched and strode past Abashai to the baby. Without concern for the father, Nya plucked up the baby and bedded down with the infant securely within her protection. Abashai held his peace, for Nya did not seem willing to breach the subject further, even as the Benshiran felt some arcane need to make peace with the wretched history that brought them to his place. The woman Nya was lean,hungry and begrudgingly aware of her need for his help. The haughty cat, her belly full, bore an air of self-assurance and disregard for her former bondmate.

Abashai turned, intending to make his bed some distance away, when her voice came to him. Immediately, the man knew she had not shifted, for he did not hear her with his ears. The voice echoed in his mind, a long-forgotten tone that at once felt startling, and then as familiar as his own thoughts. His eyes met hers, curious crystalline blue-green captured by hard, intense moss greens that caught the reflection of the firelight. The monologue was lucid and coherent, unlike the woman's had been, riddled with human emotion. The Forest Cat's words lacked sentiment, acknowledging what they had suffered, but dwelling no longer on its detail. With a determination, Nya professed the past as what it was, passed.

Abashai had assumed the fleeing woman had no real plan, from the moment he began to pursue her. But there was a plan. Nya spoke with intelligence and wisdom, not of human taint, but with the pragmatism of an animal mind. She unraveled a stream of thought, a course that was not designed with him included, but was offered to him if he chose. How did she know the baby had been 'touched' with something? They would come after his son? Even as Nya revealed her plans to go to Syliras, Abashai knew he must go with her. His spirit adamantly opposed any alternative.

Nya's voice was unyielding in his head, confident and strong. In it was a primal wisdom he remembered, blunt and uncolored. There was judgement too. Not for his past sins, but for letting foolish human sentiment about fixing the past distract from moving his life forward. Nya had purpose, and he should too, or be useless.

But that was not all. As Abashai stared into the predator's gaze, his conscience felt at undertow. Faint at first, but contrary to the Cat's commanding presentation. His glare narrowed as he drew on the string of that quiet voice, straining to hear it again. Partial images hooked and tugged at his being. Yes, the iron collar, the restraint, the Black Sun Kelvic, and Nya...used by man after man. Pain, Fear. He let go it and the powerful presence of the cat enveloped the haunting of the past that she had not released.

It felt wrong. Abashai knew it was not right. Nya had been of two bodies, but one mind. This felt different. Nya was not two people, but she was split. Nya's former mate knew the Kelvic was a survivor. Nya knew what had to be done to pursue her purpose, but she could not let unstable human emotion jeopardize her goals. Nya the woman was shut away. It was disheartening to Abashai, and concerning. He required the woman, what remained of her humanity. The cat said marks and feelings and what they had once been did not matter, and for her purposes, they did not. But Abashai was a man, he would not be satisfied just moving on. A cat knew what she was, instinct told her all she needed to be. Abashai was a soul who could not unleash his full potential until he understood where he came from, what he knew. The woman Nya was still a key.

Abashai strove to conceal his discovery. It would do him no good to confront the cat about it now. Without effort, his resolute voice resounded in the cat's awareness. "No, I can't change the past. But there is power to control the future in the knowing of it." He turned to pull the meat away from the fire. "I will go with you to Syliras. I have no love for the Black Sun now, and if they seek my s...the baby, I will oppose them in every way. We knew people in the city, though I don't remember any lab. You will need my help."

Abashai pushed Nya no further, taking his charred meat to the area he had chosen to bed down. His eyes lifted frequently to the large, dark shape of the Kelvic, curled around his child. After consuming his dinner, Abashai reluctantly laid out his bed roll, placed his weapons close at hand, and pulled the blanket over himself.

[Nya Winters]

As she promised, Nya watched Abashai all through the night. She kept the baby warm, feeding him when he woke - which was a lot easier now that she wasn't half starved - and eating a few more times herself. Towards dawn, though the sky hadn't started to lighten yet, she dozed lightly. The man's words haunted her.

"No, I can't change the past. But there is power to control the future in the knowing of it."

And the truth of it was his presence comforted her. There was no more frantic pacing the confines of her chosen camp. There was no more habitual scenting the air every few minutes or total silence listening for the presence of intruders. She was well able to relax, and in those early morning hours when the man seemingly slept deeply, Nya allowed the shivering fearful thing inside of her to merge slightly with her. Cat and human touched, just briefly, and the memories flooded her mind. She watched them as if she were watching someone else's life. She knew his name - the ones current and the ones past - and listened as the human whispered in her mind.

Once, when the sky finally lightened, she reached a paw out in Abashai's direction, extending her claws and digging them into the dirt. She was fully awaken then, almost human, and in her mind it wasn't a furred paw with razor sharp claws almost as big as his head. Instead it was a human hand simply wanting to stroke the blackness of his hair off his brow and watch him sleep. There was no way to touch him, to reach him, from where they lay some distance from each other... but in her mind she did it. The human woman did, that is, forcing the cat to do her bidding for a moment.

The cat shook her head, angry, and sniffed the baby.

They sat together, the three of them... a forest cat, a human, and a baby... watching Abashai's restless sleep until the sky changed color. Then, yawning, she tilted her head back and roared to the sun, greeting each day in standard forest cat style, letting the wild things of Sylira know she was up and hungry. She huffed, roared, and huffed again, roaring a second then third time from where she sat, then listened to see if any other forest cats returned her call. None did, no one challenging her right to be there. She nuzzled the baby aside, making sure he was wrapped well, and shifted her shape. Not bothering with clothing, she bent by the fire and began to add more sticks to it, getting it warm again. She shivered in the cold until the fire stoked back up, hating the fact that humans had such little fur. Nya had gained weight in her capacity as pet and protector, having been well fed in the Nitrozen household and well groomed. And while her face had taken on hollows since her flight, there was only a slight evidence in her fully exposed body that she'd not had enough to eat lately.

Scarred but beautiful, the woman was muscled in a way that carved her beauty even deeper. Her hair fell tangled, still growing out from where she'd cut it off in a fit of rage for the master who had claimed she'd had lice. It now bounced around her chin, slightly lower, where it brindled with color it had lost during their imprisonment.

Nya, accustomed to traveling with Shai whether or not she remembered, automatically dug a tea pot out of his pack, went to find water, and put it on to boil - adding the tea to steep by smell. She found things mostly by smell these days, trusting the cats gifts more than the humans eyes. And when she was done and she was sure Abashai was awake, she would softly and gently say.

"I remembered more. Watching you, smelling you... " She started speaking softly. She was all cat now, practical and pragmatic. "Once, not so long ago, you killed me. I was carrying your child inside. You drove a dagger through my heart to end the life of a creature that was so old no one had ever been able to harm it. But it had infused itself in me, within me, to try to eat me alive and when you killed me you killed it and rid the world of a great evil." She said soflty.

"Do you remember?" She asked, then continued on as if she hadn't even spoken."But I didn't die. Even with a dagger through my heart, I still lived. I lived because the Gods gave you a choice and let you split you soul. You gave me your soul when mine was damaged and I gave you part of my damaged soul. That is why you were so easily broken. You already were. I lived because you sacrificed. And still the creature was taken from the world and it was safer. But when you gave up your soul, you gave up your human lifespan. You dwell on my terms now. You're life will only be as long as mine. Mine will only be as long as yours. When we were imprisoned you forgot. That woman, that woman who had this child... did not know. Your life and mine are entwined. I remember this. You and I ... we are supposed to be together. We did something... no I did something terrible in a life long past. I was a powerful mage, Tallshade, and you were her companion... her lover. I made things that are still loose in the world. I go to Syliras to remember more about being her. I go to Syliras to gift the Knights with that which is still loose in the world if we can find the items. They will give us what we want in exchange for these things, Abashai. I need your help for this. In this..." She said suddenly.

Then she bent over the baby, picking him up still wrapped in Abashai's shirt. She sent him a look that was as clear to him as if she'd spoke the words. "Do you understand?"

[Abashai]

The ongoing discovery of the Abashai-that-was found that day's revelations far exceeded any glimpses garnered since the night Nya killed Kialandra and kidnapped the baby. Such was the volume of memories, information and relearned emotions, that even the Benshiran's sleep could not suppress the Chaon's re-education. Shai's dreams were no longer fictional concoctions of his imagination, but the retelling of stories, the stringing together of individual remembrances into chapters. Hunting and making love, quarrels and laughter, frustration of human versus animal, dealing death and licking wounds. Some were frightening and did not make sense, like his own hand stabbing Nya with a Konti dagger. They were incomplete still, lacking in the grander narrations of their lives, details of a divine quest, the source of a connection that went beyond even bondmates and lovers, the reason why he referred to himself by many names.

The storytelling came to a startling halt when the roar of the great cat split the morning sky. Abashai was so startled he bolted upright, his hand grasping the hilt of his khopesh before his eyes could fly open. Nya's cry resounded again, and with a sigh, the man laid back down, staring at the sky. Fresh still were the dreams, and in his waking, the powerful effect of the memories lingered still.

After a chime, Abashai turned his head to looked again towards the fire. The baby lay quietly aside, safe and sound, but Nya had shifted. Brushing a stray curl of raven hair from his face, the Benshiran watched her tend to the fire. He could not deny the pleasure he found in looking upon her, the curves of her figure so familiar he could feel them under his hand. Nya did not possess the overgenerous swells of a city-dweller, her physique leaner and contoured with muscle. Her skin was marred, adorned with scars he could almost count without looking. The man knew he had once found them appealing, and still did. Feral was how Abashai would describe her beauty, not to the taste of some, but to her former mate, it was an appeal that the torment of the Black Sun had not stripped away, the attraction a lingering distraction he indulged in for only a moment. Shai shook his head, settling his dark mane around his head and shoulders.

She made tea. Yes, she always made him tea in the morning...or had. It was not the kind he preferred from Yahebah or Ahnatep, but he had traded an iron dagger for the northern tea leaves from some Rhysol pilgrims bound for Ravok. It was profoundly surreal watching the nude woman perform the simple task, as if he watched a play he had known by heart, the main character portrayed by a close childhood friend he had not seen in years.

Abashai rolled to his feet, stretching, scanning the landscape around them, when the Kelvic's alto voice carried across the fire. His crystalline gaze did not stray from her mossy green eyes as her own words seeped in and fill the voids in the rickety structure of his memory, his recollection and her sincerity confirming it all as canon truth. The missing details, names and places, were not important at the moment. What mattered was the confirmation of his supposition. Nya and he were supposed to be together, in fact, were entangled in one another so intimately that even Rhysol's minions could not severe the supernatural bond. The truth they both faced was that they not only were supposed to be together, they had to be. Their very lives depended on one another.

If Nya experienced any emotional connections to Abashai as she revealed what she knew, she shielded them well. But Abashai felt his own, echoes of stronger sentiment towards Nya, affections birthed lifetimes ago for Tallshade and lived out time and time again over the ages, surviving the scourge of torture and brainwashing. Such feelings were kept in close for the moment, though whether Nya had detected them he could not tell.

Clear blue-green gaze still resting on the woman, Abashai nodded at her unspoken question. "I remember much, more every minute we are together. I know it's all true. I am already forgetting the man she created, the liar that left you." He stepped closer to Nya, gazing down at her, then to the child in her arms. "We have divine purpose, you and I. Whatever we are, or become, we have to be together to accomplish it. It is foolish for me to consider any other course. Besides, I want to go with you." His Benshiran features, still noble and ruggedly handsome, lifted again to Nya.

His chest swelled with the gravity of his intent, unable to deny the buried devotion he once harbored for the Kelvic woman, the commitment that began with Areesa Tallshade. Abashai was a man of control, but his heart was passionate, and had compelled him at times to act upon his emotions spontaneously. The two of them were intimate strangers. He and Nya no longer had the Kelvic bond, though even now Abashai sensed its tug. The love they once shared had been systematically dismantled, but Shai's own whispering soul hinted that it was not dead. Still, Abashai felt compelled to bind himself to Nya somehow, to make manifest to his companion his intent to see things through.

The Benshiran's deep voice, thick with his desert accent, rose with conviction. "I vow myself to you, Nya. For the duration of this quest, I will do all in my power to bring our purposes to their completion, to help, protect and advise you as I have in this life and those past. What becomes of us beyond that, time will tell."

Abashai's piercing gaze lingered upon Nya for a moment before turning to look at the rekindled fire. "Nyka is not far. I crossed a road and some traders heading there two days ago. We can get supplies, winter gear, things for the baby, maybe a horse. It will be a long journey in Winter, but if we are to be of any help to the Sylirans, we can't afford to winter in a city. Ravok's hostile intentions against Syliras come closer to reality. You and I are more than able to make the journey, and together we can care for the child along the way. We can make Syliras by late Winter or early Spring."

Looking back at Nya, Abashai shrugged off his coat and stepped closer to the woman, draping the garment across her shoulders. "also...I want to change the baby's name...the witch named him Sychar. We need to give him a new name."