Richard Tuttle - Island of Darkness

“Mistake,” pleaded MistyTrail, “you are overreacting. I just need time to understand what having a sister means to me. You cannot imagine what a shock this is for me. I have long believed that my family was dead. That was a hard burden for a young girl to learn to accept, but I did it. Now you show up, and I learn that I do have a family after all. You cannot just turn these emotions on and off at will. I am still struggling with the question of how this happened. Should I have been searching for you all of this time? Do we have any more family that we don’t know about? Can’t you understand the confusion that I am going through?”

“No, I can’t,” scowled Mistake as she leaped to her feet. “I have wasted my life looking for you, and all you can think of is what went wrong. If we do have any more family, I will leave the task of finding them to you. I have done more than my fair share.”

Tears welled up in MistyTrail’s eyes as Mistake fled from the garden. Within minutes she was crying up a storm. She felt a nudge as someone sat on the bench next to her. She wiped her eyes and looked over to see StarWind sitting alongside her.

“What happened?” StarWind asked softly.

“I don’t know,” MistyTrail sobbed. “Mistake wants me to feel about her as she does about me, but I cannot. I still can’t believe that I have a sister. For too many years I have pushed such thoughts out of my mind. I don’t know how to react to her, StarWind. How am I supposed to feel about a sister that I have never known?”

“I am not the right person to ask that question of,” shrugged StarWind as she reached out and put her arm around MistyTrail. “Perhaps it is how I felt about MoonFlow? She was the closest thing to a sister that I have ever experienced.”

“But you loved her,” frowned MistyTrail. “Everyone knows how close you two were. Is that how I am supposed to feel about Mistake?”

“You do not determine how to feel about a person in the same manner as you decide what to wear in the morning,” StarWind replied. “What you feel for any person is dictated by your heart. Don’t you like Mistake?”

“I like her a lot,” sobbed MistyTrail, “but that does not seem to be enough for her. I guess that I do not measure up to what she expected to find. She said some nasty things before she ran out of here. I think she hates me now.”

“She needs time to adjust, too,” soothed StarWind. “Have you ever wanted something so badly that you could not wait to get it?”

MistyTrail sat silently for a few moments before nodding. “I remember wanting to go on patrol by myself,” sniffed MistyTrail. “HawkShadow kept saying that I was not ready and wouldn’t let me go alone. I hated him for it.”

“Do you still hate HawkShadow?” questioned the Sakovan spy.

“Of course not,” MistyTrail answered. “I have no finer friend in all the Sakova.”

“So your emotions were clouded by your desire then?” smiled StarWind.

“Worse than that,” MistyTrail responded with the hint of a chuckle. “I performed miserably when he finally gave in and let me go out. I made just about every mistake I could possibly make. It was not just my emotions that were clouded. My judgment was as well. I don’t know how HawkShadow ever forgave me for that.”

“Then understand that Mistake’s emotions are clouding her judgment right now,” smiled StarWind. “Don’t let her words hurt you forever. Understand that she may have said things that really do not reflect on how she truly feels.”

“I will not hold her words against her,” promised MistyTrail, “but I still do not know how to react to her.”

“Then you should do what I do when I am confused about something,” suggested the Sakovan spy.

“What do you do?” inquired MistyTrail.

“I go to the temple and ask Kaltara for guidance,” smiled StarWind.

MistyTrail’s eyes brightened and a smile crept onto her lips. “That is exactly what I will do,” the small Sakovan smiled.

StarWind leaned against the rail fence of the practice yard in StarCity as she watched StormSong practicing against two opponents. As many times as the Sakovan spymaster had watched her friend spar, she was always amazed by the woman’s strength and endurance. Sweat soaked StormSong’s tunic, but she fought with a smile on her face. The two men fighting the female warrior were being worn down. StarWind could see it in their sluggish actions. They were getting tired and their reflexes had lost their quickness. With a sudden aggressive move, StormSong surged towards the two men, abandoning her defensive posture. Her wooden sword slapped the neck of one opponent while her leg snaked behind the other and toppled him to the ground. StormSong swung her sword away from the decapitated opponent and rested its tip at the throat of the fallen man while her legs straddled his body.

“Well done,” panted the defeated man as he gently pushed the tip of StormSong’s sword to one side. “I have learned much from this spar. I will be a better match the next time.”

StormSong smiled and extended a hand to the man to help him to his feet. “This spar was much better than the last,” she congratulated. “Soon I will be limited to fighting you two separately. Thank you for the spar.”

StormSong approached the fence and StarWind tossed her a towel.

“I always enjoy watching you spar,” grinned StarWind. “I am going to have to start watching you in the dining room. I want to eat what you eat.”

“It is not my diet,” laughed StormSong as she dried herself. “We both excel at what we do because we are doing what we love to do. You do not want to be like me any more than I want to be like you. I admire your intelligence and the way you handle a huge spy network. Nobody else could do the job you do. I just enjoy the art of fighting.”

“There is great truth in your words,” smiled StarWind. “Still, I very much enjoy watching you spar.”

“And I enjoy doing it,” grinned StormSong. “How was your trip to Khadora?”

“It was very interesting,” StarWind replied. “Emperor Marak is a most interesting man. I learned a great deal while I was up there.”

“I heard about him becoming the Emperor,” remarked StormSong. “In some ways I am delighted for him, but another part of me considers it a waste of his time.”

“A waste of his time?” echoed the Sakovan spymaster. “How can you say such a thing? He is the best thing to ever happen to Khadora. They will finally emerge as a true nation.”

“That is probably true,” shrugged StormSong, “but Marak is also the greatest fighter that I have ever known. That man was born to stand on the field of battle and whittle down his foes. I picture him standing victorious on a great battlefield, his enemies’ blood running down his upheld blade and staining the ground around his feet. I do not picture him in a crown, sitting at a desk with a pile of papers before him.”

“Your imagination is vivid,” chuckled StarWind. “I seriously doubt that Emperor Marak will spend much time in the Imperial Palace. He is a man of action as you describe. He will find a way to insert himself into whatever battle comes his way.”

“I will offer prayers to Kaltara for him,” smiled StormSong.

“The temple will become a busy place,” frowned StarWind as her mind drifted.

“What do you mean?” questioned StormSong.

“MistyTrail has been in the temple for two days now,” explained StarWind. “She was having trouble adjusting to having a sister. I suggested that she pray about it. She has not left the temple since. I take her food several times a day, but she barely touches it. I am worried about her.”