Chapter Six #2
Rain spun on his heel and put several long steps between them. The shei’tan in him was torn between protecting his beloved from the pain it would cause her to save the rasa and the pain it would cause her if she did not.
The Tairen Soul in him cast the deciding vote.
Though he wanted desperately to deny it, he knew Bel was right. The Fading Lands would need every warrior who yet lived—most
likely even the mates and truemates—to defeat the Eld when open war broke out, but the souls of these rasa were already so damaged, they would die or fall to darkness after the first or second battle.
The Defender of the Fey could not afford to lose the oldest and most experienced Fey warriors—and, in truth, neither could Ellysetta’s truemate.
Because all talk of gifts and the gods’ intent aside, one hard, simple truth could not be denied, and that one truth canceled
out every other concern.
If the Eld came and the Fey were not strong enough to defeat them, a torment far worse than sharing a rasa’s pain would befall Ellysetta.
Rain spun back around to face his truemate and her two lu’tans. A muscle ticked in his clenched jaw. Just because he’d made the decision didn’t mean he had to like it. “Very well, shei’tani,” he bit out. “As you insist upon this, let us see it done.” He put a hand out.
“Wait,” Tajik said. “If the Feyreisa is going to do this, I would add my own strength to all of yours to help her.” He withdrew
a black Fey’cha from his chest straps and dropped to one knee. “Of my own free will, Ellysetta Feyreisa, I pledge my life
and my soul to your protection. None shall harm you while in life or death I have power to prevent it.” He drew his dagger
across his palm and let six drops of the welling blood fall upon the blade. “This I do swear with my own life’s blood, in
Fire and Air and Earth and Water, in Spirit and in Azrahn, the magic never to be called. I do ask that this pledge be witnessed.”
“You are the last of your line, vel Sibboreh,” Rain said. “Will you not keep your bond for your own truemate?”
“If the gods judge me worthy of a shei’tani, they will ensure I meet her in my next life. For now, lute’asheiva is my right, and I claim it.”
“Then I will not deny you, my brother.” Rain nodded. “Your bond is witnessed.”
“Witnessed,” Gaelen and Bel echoed.
The blade flashed bright in vel Sibboreh’s grip.
He passed a hand, glowing with green Earth, over the naked blade.
When he was done, the sharp glint of steel had been covered by a decorative golden sheath shaped like a sword of flame.
Tajik handed the sheathed blade to Ellysetta.
“Your shei’tan will always be your first protector, kem’falla, but know that I am another.
Through this life and its death until I come to the world again, I am yours. ” He bowed low.
“Miora felah, ti’Feyreisa.”
Ellysetta stared at the sheathed blade in her hand, the third such bloodsworn blade now in her possession, then frowned at
the Fey who’d given it to her. “What did Rain mean just now when he asked you about keeping your bond for your own truemate?”
She turned to her mate. “Rain?”
Halfway hoping the knowledge would make her change her mind about blessing the rasa, Rain spread his hands and gave her the blunt truth. “Shei’tanitsa bond cannot form where any other holds sway. Tajik, Bel, and Gaelen have bloodsworn their souls to your service. That vow
is binding in this life and the death that follows, which means there can be no shei’tanitsa bond for them until they are born again. A truemate’s heart cannot be divided.”
She swallowed and turned horrified eyes towards Bel, Gaelen, and Tajik. “You knew this, yet still you bloodswore yourselves
to me? Why would you do such a thing?”
“Ellysetta, kem’falla, this is no burden,” Bel said. “You restored our souls. Of course we pledged them to your service.”
“But to give up any chance of a truemate of your own . . .”
“In this life only, kem’falla,” Gaelen said.
“We will be born to live again. Until then, we are free to accept love if we find it. The bonds of e’tanitsa are no less worthy and no less welcome to a Fey’s heart, and for a warrior who has lived centuries unable to touch a fellana without causing her pain, even e’tanitsa love is a blessing beyond measure. ”
“But—”
“All great gifts come with a price, kem’falla,” Gaelen said. “All choices come with consequence. And all Fey accept that.”
“All men of honor, at least,” Tajik said, giving Gaelen a pointed look. Gaelen’s eyes narrowed.
Ignoring him, the Fey general cast out a hand towards the silvery white walls of Chakai on the other side of Taloth’Liera.
“The rasa sleep there, kem’Feyreisa. If you still wish to bless them, I would ask you to begin with a particular two.”
“I . . .” Ellysetta hesitated. She had never considered what cost her actions would have on the men she blessed. She’d thought
only to stop their pain. And, all right, yes, some vain part of her liked seeing the wonder and joy on the warriors’ faces
when they realized the torment of all the lives they’d taken was gone. But how could she offer such healing now, knowing what
price they would feel compelled to pay?
“I don’t want to rob them of their hope for a truemate. It’s bad enough I did that to you three without knowing it.”
“Do not berate yourself for healing our souls, Ellysetta,” Bel said. “The Fey number a mere forty thousand. If there were
truemates to be had for us, we already would have found them.”
“Yet Rain found me, and Adrial found Talisa,” she pointed out. Though the ill-fated truemating of Air master Adrial vel Arquinas
to Great Lord Cannevar Barrial’s married daughter could only end badly—King Dorian had upheld the marriage rights of Talisa’s
husband, so Adrial could not claim her—Talisa Barrial diSebourne’s mortal-born soul had nonetheless called a Fey’s. “There
could be more truemates in Celieria just waiting for their Fey to find them.”
“The odds are unlikely, Ellysetta,” Bel said gently. “How many other Celierian women descend from both Fey and Elvish blood,
as she does? Nei, the rasa have already lost all but the smallest flicker of hope. Most of them will perish before their next battle’s end—they are
that close to shadow.”
Rain shifted restlessly, and a low growl rumbled in his throat. “Which will in no way reflect on Ellysetta,” he said, giving
Bel a hard look. “The rasa live and die by the gods’ decree, as they always have.” He gripped Ellysetta’s shoulders. “Shei’tani, if you are having doubts, then do not do this. The Eye of Truth said your purpose was to save the tairen; it said nothing
about restoring light to the rasa. If the pain of their presence disturbs you too much, we can leave for Fey’Bahren now, without delay.”
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and troubled. “Is Bel right? Will those men die if I don’t heal them?”
Right at that moment, Rain could cheerfully have put his hands around his best friend’s throat and squeezed until his eyes
popped. ?Bel, my brother, what flaming maggot in your brain possessed you to tell her that??
?I should have let her think she’s stolen our hope instead?? Outrage colored Bel’s voice. ?What she can do is a miracle sent from the gods. I won’t let her berate herself for it. Besides, you know as well as I do
how many of the rasa cling to honor by the merest thread.?
?You are supposed to protect her from pain, not encourage her to embrace it!?
?And which do you think will be worse? The pain of knowing the rasa will have no truemates in this life, or the pain of knowing
they chose sheisan’dahlein or slipped down the Dark Path when she could have healed them and did not??
“Rain?” Ellysetta shook herself free of his grip and frowned up at him. “Answer me. Will the rasa die in the next battle if I don’t heal them?”
His lips drew back, baring clenched teeth. He wished he could lie. He would lie to her now, if he could. But he was Fey, and
Fey did not lie. “They live here, far from other Fey, because the shadow lies so dark upon them. If war comes, they will not
survive it. At least not as Fey.”
The admission hit her like a blow. She flinched and her face went pale.
Then she caught herself, and Rain saw the reaction he’d been dreading.
Her slender spine went stiff and straight.
Her shoulders squared. Her jaw clenched, then lifted with a determined tilt.
The small, now-familiar gestures made him want to shred things, starting with Bel and Gaelen.
Ellysetta Feyreisa had made her choice.
“Take me to the rasa.”
When Rain held out his wrist so she could put her hand upon it, she looked startled.
“You don’t need to come with us, Rain. You’ve already said it will be too difficult for you.”
Only then did he realize how little she understood. “I am your shei’tan, Ellysetta. What choices you make, you make for both of us.”
The rasa, when they heard the reason Ellysetta had come, were horrified. Like Tajik, they refused to let her touch them at first,
unwilling to inflict their pain upon her, until Tajik rounded up two grim-eyed Fey and hauled them to the front of the warriors’
barracks to stand before Ellysetta. They were the oldest of the rasa, warriors the same age as Bel and Tajik, and they well remembered the destruction of the Mage Wars.
“The Mages have returned,” Tajik told them, “and war will soon be upon us. The Fading Lands will need all her sons. The Feyreisa
can heal your soul so you may live and fight like a Fey whose steel has yet to taste its first enemy’s blood.” On the Warriors’
Path, he added, ?I know it is hard, but accept this gift, my brothers, so we may live and fight together as once we did.? With grim ferocity, he added, ?I need you with me, beyond the first battle, to drench the earth in Mage blood and avenge the deaths of those we loved.?