Sylvia enjoyed a few quiet days at home. Cian asked every two hours if her hurt was better, and she patiently explained that she was getting better all the time, but it would be a few days still. Aidan enjoyed running and falling into the piles of leaves Cian piled together for him during an afternoon outing. This particular time out in the seasons colors was mostly spent with Sylvia lying on the forest floor while her sons covered her with leaves, then pretended to be scared when her arms would come rising from the depths.

As she repeated the ghostly wail while pushing her hands up from the mass, Cian and Aidan alternately squealing and giggling, a hand grabbed at hers. Bolt upright she sat, paid for with a stab of pain to her side. She saw Kieran standing over her. Her panic turned into laughter and required her to hold her side as Kieran helped her to her feet.

?You were scared, mama!? Cian rolled with wild laughter.

Kieran plucked leaves and debris from her hair, ?Thought you might need rescuing from the little hellions. You?ve spent all your waking hours in their company.?

A kiss shared, Sylvia whispered, ?Not all of them, as you well know.? Indeed, they had shared many hours together as well and curled up with one another talked of the days and matters that filled those days. ?But, yes, thank you. I?ve been buried in leaves enough for one day.?

She leaned against him as they walked on down the forest path west of their home. ?It is about time, is it not?? Kieran whispered.

Only a nod as she watched the boys scamper about, oblivious of guards that kept vigil some distance from them. ?I?ll keep my shadow with me, though the idea of another going through what the last did?? she shook her head.

?They understand the risks and accept them just as you,? a smirk, ?and I do.? He kissed her again. ?Travel safely. From what you hinted with the discussions with your friends, this will be the way we live for some time to come.?

?I will be home in a week.?

Cian heard and came to his mother?s side, ?Mama, don?t go.?

Sylvia crouched down uneasily and kissed both her sons? foreheads, ?I?ll be back in a se?nnight. Then be here for some time. I have to go, Cian. Be a good boy. Have fun playing with Aidan, and I?ll be back before you know it.?

Cian did not look convinced and Aidan aped his brother. She stood and turned from them, gripping at the resolve now slipping so quickly from her, and stepped beyond.

She leaned against the ring barrier watching Ewan occasionally call out corrections or instruction as he and the men practiced. The cool late morning offered excellent weather for a long session, and it also encouraged travelers taking pleasure rides and strolls up from town.

Yearling Brook Manor, its name from the creek that ran across the back border of the land, was a nice half hour?s brisk walk from the edge of town. A long pathway of rubble rock, partly concealed by ash and oak trees along with shrubs and other greenery, connected the manor grounds to the main road. Typically only those traveling in some haste made their presence known by their sound along the main road. Very few visited the manor on purpose.

Today, however, the whispering crunch of footsteps announced a visitor. Sylvia turned to face the approach. A figure, well concealed by cloak and hood, walked in a slow hobbled pace. Tilting her head slightly, Sylvia realized she no longer heard the footsteps that just moments before signaled the person?s approach. She also realized the men had stopped practicing behind her. Ewan stepped up a pace from her left shoulder.

?Good day, traveler. What brings you to the manor?? Ewan called as the figure neared.

?Sylvia Nightshade brings me here. Her lessons are overdue,? the familiar voice spoke as blunt fingers pulled down the hood to reveal mystical blue eyes in an unnaturally aged face.

?Blazing pyres,? Sylvia muttered as she heard the hiss of Ewan?s swords drawn and the men following suit, ?Dreams come calling.?

The hours at the inn were well spent, though she felt the weariness of the time weighing upon her lids. She would pack for return to Yransea in the morning. With a wave to her guard as she stepped through the door of the manor house, she was brought up short by Atin just inside the door, ?Blazing pyres, Atin, you gave me a start.?

?Drinks and friends. It won?t help you learn the paths.?

She walked around him to the stairs, ?I do appreciate you patching up my hurt, but I must confess to lacking any idea as to your purpose here. And,? she added with a stern voice, ?You would be amazed at what I learn when working at the inn.?

?Amazed not. My purpose will become clear. We leave for your home tomorrow?? He stood as if a statue, unmoving with emotion to his features or twitches to his body. Still, he spoke with warmth, certainty comforted in patience.

?I am leaving for Yransea tomorrow. You are welcome to stay here, but I don?t trust you enough to bring you to my home.?
?Taking or bringing. I am there whether you see me or not.?

She scowled, ?That does not exactly comfort me.?

?Far more dangerous beings you have asked to visit your home than I.? He actually smiled.

Sylvia stepped closer to him, examining the mystical blend of blues to his eyes, ?The danger known is much less harmful than the unknown. You, Atin, are an unknown.? She felt no threat from him, and yet, ?Who are you??

"Sylvia," he spoke so softly, the age of his face dissolving like paint in water, grey hair metamorphisizing into night black, "you know my kind."

?I?m not little. I?m gonna be three.? His little chest puffed out. ?Aidan?s little. He?s napping.?

?Which is what you will be doing as soon as we return home,? she admonished and managed to ignore his pout and cut off any whining by turning to Kieran. ?How are you??

She felt his hand rest upon the small of her back. The loving touch she so often missed in her absence that didn?t require him hanging on her, but just a meaningful contact. ?Doing well as the land settles into another season of rest. My sisters and their husbands plan on joining us within the next week, so Mistress Nyla is in a rush and directing her staff like the commander of a warband.?

Sylvia chuckled and hopped up into the carriage that awaited them at the end of the docks, settled Cian on her lap and smiled teasingly to Kieran as he joined them. ?And do you have plans for while I?m here??

?That, Via, is a certainty.? His grin spoke volumes to her.

?Well, I do hope they will not interrupt our instruction.? Atin?s voice spoke simultaneously with the appearance of his body.

?Blazing pyres,? Sylvia cursed and pulled Cian close to protect him.

?Not a most welcoming greeting, I must say.? Atin looked down at the knife pointing at his throat held assuredly by Kieran.

?Kieran,? she sighed and released the squirming Cian who was all too eager to inspect the mysterious man, ?this is the?man who stitched up my wound, and calls himself, Atin.?

Kieran lowered the dagger most reluctantly, ?My thanks, sir.?

Atin, as cheerful and pleasant as if nothing had threatened his life, smiled, ?Do not mistake my assistance for selflessness. I have a reason to see she lives.?

?I have no need or desire for your throne, just Sylvia. She has a purpose, and being with you is not going to help her fulfill that. The only way,? spoken with the certainty of a man with power, ?is for her to join me, in every way. I can give her what she needs to fulfill that purpose.?

?You say she has a purpose, but you do not say what that is. What is that purpose??

Atin smiled as though he patronized a little child, ?She is not a broodmare for mortals, Kieran, though you treat her as such.? Kieran did not react to the bait, and Atin continued. ?She has a tempered spirit well suited to learning the mysteries between shadow and smoke; the paths of my realm that will help her in her battles. To keep her here is to condemn more people to die.?

?I do not see why you must take her to wife, though.? Kieran sticking to his point as the carriage entered the courtyard of the manor.

?Because she must focus wholly on her training, and only if I provide the elements her mortal form needs can I keep that focus. You should give her to me.?

That had done it. Kieran was ready to throttle the man, if he thought he could. ?Sylvia is a person, a woman with her own mind and body, and I do not give her or take her or anything else with her without her consent. She isn?t chattel.?

The smile on Atin?s face perplexed Kieran as did the words, ?Well, you have learned your lesson of late very well at least. Good, I will not have to work with both of you at once. I am glad of it.?

A test? Was that what it had been? Atin apparently thought the conversation over as he leapt from the carriage and smiled at the manor, ?Suitable.?

Atin woke Sylvia and Kieran abruptly early in the morning by appearing on the end of the bed. ?Blazing pyres, Atin, get out of the room.? Sylvia kicked at him as she pulled the covers up to her neck and held Kieran back from strangling the man.

?Sun?s up. You should be. Courtyard.? And he was gone.

?It?s like having cryptic notes read to you,? she scowled and moved to crawl out of bed.

?You aren?t going already? Even our sons have not risen, yet.? Kieran sighed and fell back against the pillows.

??Yet? being the operative word there, beloved. Besides, maybe today I?ll learn what Atin wants with me,? she smiled and moved to the dressing room where she ran a wet cloth over her body to wash and prepared for the day.

Kieran called from their bed, ?I don?t find that a good enough inducement to leaving my side.?

Laughing, Sylvia returned as she pulled the fitted vest over her tunic, ?Because you enjoy being woken up each morning by the surprise appearance of a stranger at the foot of our bed??

He threw a pillow at her, which she easily caught and threw back, and he growled, ?That is a good enough inducement.?

She braided her hair back as she watched him, with no little pleasure, drag himself out of bed and start his own preparations for dressing. ?Will you grant Cian?s request of you from last night??

His fine shoulders shrugged, ?I do not see why not. If he is interested, for some bizarre reason, to see the place where my parents are buried, then so be it.? He turned after pulling on his breeches, ?Though I do think this has some thing to do with his fear of your dying.?

A soft sigh, Sylvia rubbed at her temples, ?Aye, I have the same concern.? Then she felt his hands on her shoulders and smiled up at him, ?You will be careful with him, yes? Help him to understand??

?I always do, Via, to the best of my ability,? he kissed her forehead. ?But you had better get into the courtyard, or Atin will be hanging from our posterns.?

The goodbyes to her family had torn a new hole in her heart, but eventually, she hoped, they would all learn that it was simply the way life worked. As she felt the solidness of well trod earth beneath her feet after the lurch of traveling through the single direction Nexus portal from Yransea, she looked around and blinked with some surprise.

She had expected Atin to be standing there at the edge of the road with his usual grin, but the figure before her was barely smiling, and certainly unexpected, ?Kiema, how did you???

?How did I know?? She shrugged and took one of the Sylvia?s packs to her own shoulder as they started to walk. ?It is your day to return, and you usually arrive by noon. I have waited here for you.?

?Well, I thank you, but surely you have better things to do than wait around for me,? Sylvia had a sting in her gut that she knew what brought the lady here to wait at the edge of a distant road for her appearance.

?It has started again.? The statement a simple one and she did not look at Sylvia.

A grit of her teeth, Sylvia looked towards the cloudy sky, then a confusing blink, ?Wait, how do you know it has started? You can?t feel them.?

?I think, for a moment, with all the high emotions brewing in the inn, I sensed something?an aroma?if you will. The flicker of a concealed candle revealed briefly.? The Changling?s eyes were dark as pitch.

?I warned you,? Sylvia admonished. ?I told you to guard yourself. That it was only a matter of time before the inevitable happened.?

?Thank you, Sylvia, I do recall your words rather clearly.? Kiema spoke without malice and only a hint of sarcasm. In fact, it seemed as if she was speaking from saddened resignation. Sylvia also noticed she did not carry an instrument upon her, made more obvious by the lack of cloak or usual skirt she wore. No, the lady was dressed for travel, not unlike herself, in breeches, tunic, and vest.

They walked in silence, Sylvia trying to keep her scathing words at bay. It was Kiema who spoke again first as they turned up the gravel path of Yearling Brook manor, ?I should go now.?

?Will you return to Anria?? Sylvia watched the woman turn back down the path, the satchel she had carried left at Sylvia?s feet.

?No, I have some things here yet to do, and I have received no word from the Circelus of their plan to end the Sedlaral danger.?

?Will you still give in to your feelings??

?Yes, for now. It will hurt either way, won?t it??

?I am afraid it will.?

She said no more as she turned and walked away.

Not for the first time was Sylvia grateful that she had Kieran, and that nothing but death could break them apart.

"Frivolity over now. Back to work." Atin appeared in his usual manner, suddenly just a few steps behind Sylvia.

Exasperated, Sylvia turned from watching her sons play in the snow. "Atin, there are other events that need my attention."

"Particularly those in RhyDin, but it is time to leave there." He was not looking at her when he spoke, but smiling past her to where the boys played.

"When you say things like that, I begin to wonder if it is meant to convince me to stay just to defy you, or if you actually have some interest in someone's well being. You play too many games, Atin, for me to know for certain." She turned slowly for the manor, a signal to the guards and Miriam to take over supervision of the rambunctious boys.

He stayed at her side, but it did not seem as if he stepped, though his body made the appropriate motions, the movement was too smooth by half and no marks were left in the snow. "I do have interest in someone's well being. Someone you have not met, yet, but will if you heed my advice."

"More gambits in this game of yours," she said without malice. "The Winter Festival starts on the morrow. Many of my people will return for that time period."

"Break away from RhyDin, Sylvia. Too many here now drawn into the horrors of that land. Will you see it come here as well and suffocate this world?" Atin's mouth moved, but it was Kieran's voice she heard.

Her steps halted and she narrowed eyes on Atin. "I have ties there and I will not break those."

"And sacrifice lives around you, some already fallen, some not yet born, because of it."

"I am not that important," Sylvia scoffed and she walked on. "There are those who have the power to do more than I, like you, Atin. Why preach to me when you have strength beyond my comprehension."

"You are right, you are not important. Your fall will cause some heartache, but then you will be forgotten. So will I. So will we all."

He laughed gently as he watched Cian dash off to greet his mother with the abandon he could express. Age would soon force him to suppress such outward emotion, but not yet. Not for a few more years, Cian was still able to be the child he was. Then his wife turned to watch their son run off across the yard and he noticed the form of her body, the signs of pregnancy so clear that she must be at least a third of the way through. A spike of anger struck and fell away. Kieran felt he should have known, and it was that combined with the secrecy she had kept it from him that caused the gritting of his teeth and the sharpness of his voice. ?I suppose this is the way you inform me I am to be a father again??

?When you over react as you do, yes.? Oh how well he knew that flash in those violet eyes. She had her defenses up and ready for him. The welcoming shine had cooled to a keen sharpness of battle.

?We will talk of this elsewhere,? as he saw the approach of staff to take care of the luggage and horse.

Sylvia formally lifted her hand to indicate the path leading to the back of the grounds and the forest that lay beyond, ?Then shall we take a walk, my lord??

He winced at the formalness and felt his own stubbornness rise up like armor, bowing to her and pointedly taking steps before her towards the back of the grounds. Cian, he noted, was being regaled by stories of guards leading him to the barracks, where Ewan must be. The chill kept his temper only barely in check. Kieran tugged the cloak close about him and Sylvia kept a step or two behind him.

They walked in this stiff silence until they passed the orchards and met the edge of the forest. Sylvia called after him, ?I believe this will serve for our discussion.?

?Discussion?? he grinned and turned to face her. ?Let?s call a sword a sword, Via, this is going to be an argument.?

?Very well, an argument. Since it is your temper that started this, by all means, send the first volley.?

?My temper?! You kept things from me, though, I will admit I should have known: when you were sick, the tea, how tired you were. I thought it was just the stress of events. But you should have told me.? He spat out in quick succession the disconnected truths.

?Told you and then had you coddle me, keep me close, keep me away from here??

?Yes! Particularly away from here with its chaos and threats to every living thing. Let?s not mention the many unliving that walk its streets.? He paced around her, hands clasped behind his back, thumbs rubbed harshly over knuckles.

?I would like to clearly remind you that both of my previous pregnancies were spent mostly here in this land.? He saw that smile. She thought she had trapped him.

?Away from me. Do you want to be away from me, Sylvia??

?Don?t you dare,? she stepped into his pacing, he felt her hands upon his chest to stop him and his chest constricted. ?You sent me here this time. You sent me here last time to keep me from the possibilities of war waged on our doorstep.?

It broke him. He had sent her away. ?For your safety,? he whispered. ?But I knew about our sons then. You?ve kept this from me. Why??

?I don?t want that one,? Cian pouted up at his mother from where he snuggled against her in bed. In fact, all of them were in bed to read a story before time to sleep. Cian on her right, Aidan drifting already to sleep on her left and Kieran behind him, his length curled slightly on the smaller bed of his son.

?Aidan is nearly asleep. Let?s finish this one and then you and I will read one you?ve selected.? Logic rarely worked, but it seemed to appease him as he rested his head again on her arm as she finished the book.

A kiss to Aidan?s cheek before Kieran lifted the sleeping boy to take him to his own bed. ?Now my book,? Cian flopped the book onto his mother?s arms and pushed open the cover. Sylvia smiled and began the story, only to be interrupted part way through with something more than pointing out pictures, ?Why?s Master Ewan mad??

Sylvia frowned in confusion, ?What do you mean??

?No more laughing, even when I tried to stand on my head. Doesn?t he like me anymore??

?Cian,? she soothed, running her hand over his dark, brown hair, ?Master Corinsson likes you.?

Kieran returned with a questioning look at the perplexing words heard upon moving back to sit on the bed. Cian fumbled more under Kieran?s gaze, looking down at his hands curled up in the comforter. ?Because he?s got to. Because of you.?

?Now that?s not true, Cian.? Sylvia closed the book and pulled Cian up into a comforting hug. ?He has many things on his mind, but he likes you for you. This I promise.?

She could tell he was not convinced, and Kieran shared that intuitive understanding in a single look. Unwilling to let the moment draw out into something uncomfortable, she finished the book, and then gave Cian a kiss to his cheek when she moved off the bed. ?Don?t tell him, Mama. I don?t want him madder.?

?Good night, Cian. Sweet dreams.?

Kieran walked with her back to their rooms. Sylvia sighed, ?Ewan has become more somber of late, but I didn?t think Cian would notice.?

There was no response from her husband, but she could tell he was thinking on the matter.

Sylvia was not abandoned, not with the recruits, house staff, and others that claimed Yearling Brook as their home for the time being. Yet, she felt very much alone. Her head would not overrule the feeling. She knew there were friends in town, friends with troubles with which she could not help.

"You have me," Atin stood, having chosen a more youthful appearance this time, just behind her.

She did not jump as she would have but for the tingling sensation, like the hint of a breeze the floats one hair across her face, that she was now aware of his appearing. "I have nothing of you, Atin, if I had my choice. You only confuse and frustrate me, speaking in half truths and riddles, and I still do not know what you want from me."

"If there is something you need for repayment in saving my life," she turned as she questioned him, "Then ask it. I do not know if I can give it to you, but I will try. Just, please, stop confounding me."

Atin seemed wholly reluctant to comply with her plea, the spark of eyes ever young, held deeply onto hers. "You send your protector into brackish and thorny places. Places you used to go."

"I did, but that life is behind me now."

"You seek it still," he warned and took a step closer to her.

"I will not risk my child's life or disavow the promises made to my husband, whom I love," she was tired of continually driving that point home to this strange man.

Atin snapped fingers once and then walked around her, or more sense, prowled, "You will have to risk it. You will have to unmake vows, or things will become undone for your land."

"No more riddles!" She screamed.

His hands moved over her shoulders, the comforting sympathy that was in that touch kept her from driving them away. Hands continued on a path down her arms and folded across her, resting upon the curve of her belly. It was a tender and intimate hold that would have been deliciously desired if it had been Kieran, but from Atin it simply held comfort and a strange reassurance. "Let me stay by you and guide you. An ancient wrath is rising, and I need you as you will need me. Trust me some while longer. I cannot tell you all as you would wish to hear, but I know I can help."

She closed violet eyes, steeled her resolve and nodded.

Sylvia walked in the small orchard alone. The grounds of the manor were in their usual state of serene business. Kieran and the boys had returned back to Yransea some days back, and communication again came and went via letters and messengers.

It was time to test her gambit now that Kiema was back in Anria. The distances needed to be questioned and experimented, but with what Atin had been trying to show her, it seemed as if she understood partly what he meant and could use it in her own fashion.

Her fingers traced a line of the tree bark, feeling the texture and imagining the life that kept it growing and eventually producing fruit. Head tilting back to look up into the chaotic flutterings of new leaves and slender branches, she watched sunlight play peek-a-boo with her eyes. She let that moment draw her into a sleepy haze and sat beneath the tree. A slip between shadows and beams of light as one sees filaments of dust, and here she tried to find that world again where she first met Atin.

She let the call form as a thought and sent it to the empath. A very simple Can you hear me, Kiema?. She waited for an answer.

?Ilena, I think it might be best if you went back to Yransea for a time.? Sylvia sat back in her chair at the desk. She had been taking most of the morning informing which of the staff would be returning to Yransea. The rotation would be much more comprehensive this time, and not relying of volunteers as in the past. The news from home was this would be a very unusual time, not unlike the last War, with the arcane creeping its way from other nations into their daily lives. The more who had exposure to such routine of the mystical and bizarre, the less likely they would be to fright at shadows.

?I cannot say I am sad to go, my lady, but it has been an experience, that I can say for certain.? Ilena gave a curtsey and exited the parlor.

Sunlight streamed into the window at mid-morning and warmed her back as she leaned over the desk and reviewed the plans. More names checked away and others on review, she looked over her shoulder to the sun brightened fields before the manor. Ewan was making preparations among his recruits for his departure. When she had told him of her ideas, he seemed to take the idea of leaving fairly well, but, she supposed, he would give her nothing if he felt differently.

She turned back to find Atin?s head settled on the edge of her desk. ?Good morning, Atin.?

Atin looked disappointed, ?You did not even scold me for making it look as if it were just my head.? He rose to his feet to his full height.

?Why should I scold you for providing me the picture I have imagined oh so many nights?? A wry smile, ?But still, you may be of use, so I will not wish you to vanish just yet.?

?That is not up to you,? he beamed confidently.

Sylvia shook her head and gave him smile for smile, ?That is where you are very wrong, Atin. I can, and someday probably will, decide to call in some favors if you prove to be a nuisance. Or I just might deal with you myself and think you away.?

His face was so solemn, resigned, and yet a glimmer of pride, ?Well, then, you are not a hopeless cause yet.?

Sylvia studied her reflection and shook her head, "Can we not do something less obviously with child?"

"My lady," Master Gorlan snickered, "there is no hiding eight months, I am sorry. But does not the berry blue color suit you?"

"Only if I wish to look like a blueberry, which, trust me, I do not." She moved back behind the screen as did Lady Cera to assist with the undressing. Sylvia pitched her voice to Gorlan, "I had hoped you could have adjusted the green."

Both Cera and Gorlan gasped, but it was Cera that scolded, "Your Excellency knows that gown is only meant for official occasions and certainly not when you are carrying a child in during which times you are supposed to lessen your official events."

"Cera," Sylvia smiled and the woman looked fully prepared for a sharp reprimand for speaking so, but all Sylvia said was, "the lace is pinching me. Could you loosen it?"

A blink or two, "Oh yes, of course," and she went back to helping Sylvia get out of the gown.

"At this stage I think I am doomed to look like some fruit or another. What else have you for me, Master Gorlan?" The tired sigh could not be helped or hidden. There was no secret in this household that Sylvia hated the ritual of finding clothing for whatever special event that arose.

"I think we will avoid the red as that is decidedly inappropriate, and I do not think I could listen to you complain about looking like an apple."

Sylvia peeked around the screen, trying to balance the overbalance of her belly and keep to the modesty expected of her. How she missed just being herself and dressing herself in Yearling Brook. The return there would be good, though a darker thought wormed its way up to the front of her mind. Ewan would not be there. She had not heard from him at all since he went north. Gorlan brought her back out of her gloomy thoughts.

"I think this one will do nicely," he held out a gown of silk chiffon in rosey hue.

"It's pink!" Sylvia exclaimed horrified.

"It's rose," Gorlan calmly corrected as Cera came out to claim it. "The high waist will fit nicely, but the satin ties and pleated back will give some nice detail. Besides, I cannot think of a fruit that color."

Sylvia grumbled the entire time of the coloring as she and Cera managed to fit it on. With a glare at Gorlan, the man had been trying for years to put her in pink, she walked to the looking glass and sighed. Defeated. "Yes, Gorlan, you are right. This will do just fine."

The triumphant gleam in the man's eyes brought a laugh out of Sylvia. There would be no end to his ego now.