allowed terror for her submissive's life to predicate her action? What was she to make of such a creature? Cool consideration, now that the event was past, indicated that allowing Rool Tiazan to destroy himself was the course of reason.
For herself... Reason told her that a dominant who could not assert her dominion, who had lost the Iloheen the use of one of the precious zaliata —so flawed a being was unworthy of carrying out the great work, no matter how many Dooms she had evaded.
And it was fear that she felt, there at her core, as she contemplated her own destruction. Contrary to her training, she did not vanquish it, but drew it close and examined it.
Seen thus, it was a thing of many facets; a dark jewel turning beneath the weight of her regard.
One facet was that fear awakened in a base creature at the imminence of its own death. Another facet—and greater—was fear of Rool Tiazan's destruction.
The very emotion which had motivated her interference in his attempted escape.
The very emotion which had fueled her rage after she had made him safe, and prompted her to punish him more stringently than his error had warranted.
She paused to study that last, detecting shame at her use of force. Yet, it had been no error, but a deliberate attempt to distract her so that he might escape her domination. Surely such rebellion merited punishment, stern and deliberate?
And yet again—he had been no mere tumzaliat , bred in captivity, but a free zaliata , proud and willful. He had acted as his emotions had dictated, as base creatures must. As his dominant, it was her part to—
Noise disturbed her thought; loud and ill-shaped, it grew progressively more annoying until, abruptly, a Shadow fell across her perception. Immediately, she quit her core, returned fully to her envelope, rose onto bare feet and bowed.
Edonai.
There was no return greeting, but a shock of pain as a data module was forced into her consciousness, displaying a dizzying view of the greater aetherium, the zaliata at their dancing. The image narrowed until it had isolated one particular creature: Not so large as some, but densely structured, the pattern of its emanations controlled, its colors deep and cunning, resonating through every spectrum she was able to sense, and surely well beyond.
As she watched, the zaliata danced, faster, and faster still. The ley lines flared briefly; undisturbed, the dancers continued to gyrate, but were not quite able to disguise the fact that one of their number was—gone.
Fear whispered; she dominated it and dared to ask a question.
When?
Rouse your submissive , the Iloheen ordered
A second question stirred; she suppressed it and hid the shadow of the act in the bustle of waking Rool Tiazan.
Roughly, she stripped the blanket away and vanquished it.
Rool Tiazan , she sent, sharp enough to cut—and perhaps to warn. We are commanded .
He gained such consciousness as the vessel permitted, came to his feet with alacrity and bowed, his hair swirling in the ice-thickened air.
Remove your influence, came the command. I would examine it of itself alone.
Fear licked at her core; a tiny flame, easily extinguished. Slowly, carefully, she withdrew her protections. Rool Tiazan felt her slip away from him, and straightened, eyes wide, the pulse fluttering at the base of his throat. She turned her face aside and withdrew as she had been commanded, but not before she had seen the ice forming on his smooth, naked dermis.
From the vantage of the second plane, she beheld the Shadow, stretching above and below until it vanished from her puny understanding. Opposing—near engulfed by—it was a faint stain of muddy light, scarce strong enough to penetrate the loftier planes.
Fear flared; she thrust it aside and bent all her perceptions to the Shadow, striving to see through it, seeking her submissive, the rippling fires of his essence—and realized with a shock that the muddy emittance was he.
Reveal
For herself... Reason told her that a dominant who could not assert her dominion, who had lost the Iloheen the use of one of the precious zaliata —so flawed a being was unworthy of carrying out the great work, no matter how many Dooms she had evaded.
And it was fear that she felt, there at her core, as she contemplated her own destruction. Contrary to her training, she did not vanquish it, but drew it close and examined it.
Seen thus, it was a thing of many facets; a dark jewel turning beneath the weight of her regard.
One facet was that fear awakened in a base creature at the imminence of its own death. Another facet—and greater—was fear of Rool Tiazan's destruction.
The very emotion which had motivated her interference in his attempted escape.
The very emotion which had fueled her rage after she had made him safe, and prompted her to punish him more stringently than his error had warranted.
She paused to study that last, detecting shame at her use of force. Yet, it had been no error, but a deliberate attempt to distract her so that he might escape her domination. Surely such rebellion merited punishment, stern and deliberate?
And yet again—he had been no mere tumzaliat , bred in captivity, but a free zaliata , proud and willful. He had acted as his emotions had dictated, as base creatures must. As his dominant, it was her part to—
Noise disturbed her thought; loud and ill-shaped, it grew progressively more annoying until, abruptly, a Shadow fell across her perception. Immediately, she quit her core, returned fully to her envelope, rose onto bare feet and bowed.
Edonai.
There was no return greeting, but a shock of pain as a data module was forced into her consciousness, displaying a dizzying view of the greater aetherium, the zaliata at their dancing. The image narrowed until it had isolated one particular creature: Not so large as some, but densely structured, the pattern of its emanations controlled, its colors deep and cunning, resonating through every spectrum she was able to sense, and surely well beyond.
As she watched, the zaliata danced, faster, and faster still. The ley lines flared briefly; undisturbed, the dancers continued to gyrate, but were not quite able to disguise the fact that one of their number was—gone.
Fear whispered; she dominated it and dared to ask a question.
When?
Rouse your submissive , the Iloheen ordered
A second question stirred; she suppressed it and hid the shadow of the act in the bustle of waking Rool Tiazan.
Roughly, she stripped the blanket away and vanquished it.
Rool Tiazan , she sent, sharp enough to cut—and perhaps to warn. We are commanded .
He gained such consciousness as the vessel permitted, came to his feet with alacrity and bowed, his hair swirling in the ice-thickened air.
Remove your influence, came the command. I would examine it of itself alone.
Fear licked at her core; a tiny flame, easily extinguished. Slowly, carefully, she withdrew her protections. Rool Tiazan felt her slip away from him, and straightened, eyes wide, the pulse fluttering at the base of his throat. She turned her face aside and withdrew as she had been commanded, but not before she had seen the ice forming on his smooth, naked dermis.
From the vantage of the second plane, she beheld the Shadow, stretching above and below until it vanished from her puny understanding. Opposing—near engulfed by—it was a faint stain of muddy light, scarce strong enough to penetrate the loftier planes.
Fear flared; she thrust it aside and bent all her perceptions to the Shadow, striving to see through it, seeking her submissive, the rippling fires of his essence—and realized with a shock that the muddy emittance was he.
Reveal
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