Wraeththu by Storm Constantine

Author:Storm Constantine
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2010-12-05T02:00:00+00:00

Arahal became my tutor. For the next few weeks I had to undertake the training that would raise my level. It had nothing to do with warfare as Varrish caste progression did, but was no less rigorous because of it. I suffered gruelling sessions of painful self-examination, when Arahal dispassionately sifted through my innermost feelings and beliefs. It was only through severe concentration that I managed to keep my thoughts about Seel to myself. I dreaded Arahal becoming aware of them. It was obvious that he knew I was keeping something back, but he also sensed the embarrassment surrounding those thoughts, so for the time being did not press me to reveal them. All he said was, "Guilt is a tool of destruction, Swift, remember that!" His voice full of dire warning. Some part of me really wanted to confess, but I feared Arahal's displeasure, more so because I thought he would not show it.

"Must you know everything about me?" I asked. He smiled.

"You are missing the point, Swift. I don't want to know everything about you, but I want you to."

In the evenings, I began to spend an hour in meditation. Everything seemed clearer then. I was pleasantly surprised how, when my mind was calm and ordered, it was so easy to summon up and control my innate powers. Now I could visualize with ease, which meant that I could now operate the special shields that the Gelaming used as a barrier at the entrance to their homes. I had only to visualize the force field to be there and no-one could pass through without my wanting them to.

After only a few days, Leef had moved out of our pavilion and gone to live with a group of hara he had made friends with, who, like ourselves and many other hara in Imbrilim, had come down from the north. I knew Leef was displeased that I had been absorbed into the elite of the Gelaming and he told me that he believed I had forgotten all about my old home and Terzian and Cal. He did not actually say it, but I'm sure he looked on me as some kind of traitor.

Perhaps I didn't think of my father and Cal as often as I should, but my mind was often full of Cobweb. I wanted to see him so much and he was so far away; our minds could not touch. We had always been near enough to each other for that, ever since I'd been born. Only now did I realize it and miss it. I used to wonder what he was doing and what Swithe and Moswell and Tyson were doing. Did Bryony ever think of me? Perhaps, in the garden, she could feel me near. At night, I liked to pretend I was back there, lying on the damp grass beside the lake; that place where things of importance had seemed to happen to me. Then I would feel like weeping, for I knew those times would never return.

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