TKC 253 and 254
“Lyra?” Damin says.
My sister turns her head to the fair man known to Lyra as Damin Mur. Iniri, of course, will know better. My curiosity soars, for I wonder how she will respond to his summons.
She blinks and then closes those mesmerising eyes. “Damin, we will talk later. At this point we have to focus on the battle ahead.”
Damin goes on staring at her. Lifting Siri’s hand from his shoulder, he rises. “No. I need to understand now.”
She draws breath, holds it, and then releases explosively. “Fine.” Glancing at Commander Gennerin, she says, “We will pick this up in a few minutes.”
Gennerin bows his head.
“Come with me, Damin,” she goes on and heads for the exit. “We do this outside; this sterile space does not allow for emotion. Enris, you better come with us.”
After punching the button that opens the door to the forest, she sweeps out. A queen; she is again as the royal daughter she always was. Swallowing, Damin follows, but he has lost his purpose, for his gait is uncertain.
“Prepare the men for the incursion,” I tell Gennerin, and follow the two receding forms.
With my sister leading the way, we wander deeper into the forest. As we are about to vanish from view, I gesture at two soldiers to unobtrusively follow us as guards. They fall in, silent and watchful. At least now I do not need to concern myself about what is behind. What lies ahead may be a different matter.
Under a massively spreading tree, Lyra comes to a halt. Damin hunkers, looking up at her, his fingers in a tight clasp to still inadvertent movement. Damin knows how the small gestures reveal one.
Lyra sits. It places her lower than Damin, but I am aware she chooses to do so deliberately. My sister ever was the student of the nature inherent to a soul.
I sit as well, my back to a tree trunk opposite. Not only does this allow them a measure of privacy, but I am able to watch for danger from the territory beyond us. Thus far, all is quiet.
“My name is Iniri,” my sister starts.
“That I have already gathered,” Damin mutters.
She huffs, but then lifts one hand in apology. “This is difficult for you, I am sorry.”
“It is. First Horin, a babe I saw the day after he was born, becomes this warrior over there. Enris has superseded Horin and it is surpassingly strange. Academically I understand the concept of souls returning, and yet to see it as a physical truth is uncomfortable. I wonder, for instance, where Horin is.” Damin pauses. He clears his throat. “If you are Iniri, where is Lyra?”
“The lives we lead before we are aware of our souls shape us. Horin still exists, as Lyra will ever be with me, but who we were first assumes the ascendant position. This is the way for all, not merely the Makar line.”
I smile. She stated it well.
Damin is unmoving, although his calves must be protesting his stance. “I have the clearest feeling you are telling me I am not merely Damin.”
“Only new souls can claim the host as original,” Iniri murmurs. “Iniri was original. Enris also, for beings then were scarce. You are not a new soul, Damin. You were not created originally for Massin.”
Damin’s head lowers. For many moments there is only silence.
“You are afraid to ask who you were,” Iniri says.
He lifts his head. “I am afraid I am losing you. Nothing else matters.”
My sister smiles then, a beautiful sight. “My love, this is not our first time together. You will not lose me.”