Champions of Serenity: Destiny Fulfilled
Chapter Twelve

Chapter 12

“Tris! Tris!” Shrina shrieked as she ran into the cave. The cave had been the home of the Circle since last fall. It was actually a system of caves linked together and kept warm by natural hot springs in the back cavern. Most of the time, the Circle spent their days in the largest, front cavern as it looked out over the forest and had a nice smooth stone floor. Airidon had carved a large fire pit in the center of the floor and coaxed a vent hole to grow directly above it. The entrance was large and allowed enough light in the central cavern that didn’t need extra flame to read. Shrina was holding her yellow travel cloak by the hem staring at the stitches she had placed in it last autumn. Tris looked up from a scroll she was working on and sighed. She had come to appreciate Shrina for her talents and skills but her never ending curiosity and questions annoyed Tris to no end.

Korol wandered in from one of the back caves and whispered into Tris’s ear before fading to shadow behind her. “Don’t let her get to you, Leader Tris, she doesn’t really mean to be irritating.”

“Why don’t you follow your own advice, Korolwyn?” Tris said from the corner of her mouth. “If you stopped fading every time Shrelannasha came around she would probably stop chasing you.”

From his shadow, Korol just grinned and kept his distance from both Tris and the breathless Siblen. Shrina skidded to a stop in front of Tris, tears of distressed falling from her eyes. “Tris, they’re fading, what’s happening to them?”

Trisinda set down her quill and carefully put the stopper back into the bottle of ink and dusted the parchment with sand to protect what she had already written. Then she looked up at Shrina, standing over her. “What is fading, Shrelannasha?”

Thrusting her cloak under Tris’s nose, Shrina jabbed her finger into the hem and the runes that had been sewn into it. “There isn’t as much today as yesterday and tomorrow more will be gone. Did we do them wrong? Is the magic fading? Is someone stealing them?”

Airidon, Tyra, and Fini walked into the cave at that moment, attracted by Shrina’s shrieks. Dropping a newly killed buck, Airidon sat down opposite the fire from Tris and started to clean it. Fini set down two large buckets of fresh water and offered to help Airidon skin the carcass. Tyra poured herself a cup of the ever present tea and sat down to watch the men working.

After a moment, Shrina started again. “Tris, I know you know what is happening, why won’t you tell me?”

“Ladies, what’s going on?” Airidon asked, looking up from his chore, his dagger dripping with blood. The area that Airidon worked had been worn smooth and a rut was created to carry the blood out of the cave and into the soil to the side of the entrance. Just a few yards away was a stream that provided all the fresh water the Circle could want.

Shrina marched over to Airidon and thrust her cloak under his nose; once again jabbing the hem. “It’s the stitches, Airidon, they are fading and I want to know why. Is Handsome stealing them somehow?”

Rubbing her temples, Tris bowed her head. She set aside the lap table Airidon had carved for her to use and carefully gathered her writing supplies and put them into her cloak. “They can’t be stolen, Shrelannasha. And Handsome has nothing to do with their fading.” Standing, Tris walked over and rested her hand on Shrina’s shoulder, and looked down at Airidon.

“We put stitches in our boots, cloaks, and through the chains holding our stars. Why?” Tris asked, listening to that quiet voice in the back of her head she knew as Debra. For a moment, Tris wondered why Debra picked that moment to join with her and shrugged it off as unimportant.

Fini frowned as he finished peeling the hide from the deer, turning it inside out for cleaning. Taking out a sharpened shoulder blade, Fini began scraping the hide in preparation for curing. Along the wall behind where the meat was butchered were several hides tacked to the wall, aging before being made into useful items around the cave. Airidon scowled, carving the deer into quarters, as he tried to figure out just what it was Tris was asking of them.

“Gods above and below, what are Serenity’s gifts to us?” Tris demanded, allowing her anger to sound in her voice. She knew from being told over and over she needed to develop more patience, but at the moment she just wanted to slap the stupid off of her Circle’s faces. “Her shoes, her mantle, and her star. What were they each for? Youth and strength, power and knowledge, and immortality. Her shoes, our boots, her mantle, our cloaks, her star, our chains.” Tris kept her voice level, but the tones were clipped in her irritation.

Sitting on her haunches, Tris pulled the unburned end of a stick from the fire and blew out the other end. With the charred end, she started to draw on the stone near the fire. “Serenity knew she couldn’t just give us the gifts all at once, the magic would overwhelm us and kill us, so she had us place the spells in our boots, cloaks, and the chains. We used demon thread to make sure the spells were set and as we grew into each of the gifts, the runes giving them would fade. When the final stitches are gone, our time of peace is ended and we must return to battle and we will have all of Serenity’s gifts.”

Korol stepped from the shadows, studying his own cloak as he did. “So what you are saying, Leader Tris, is that we aren’t yet fully immortal and such, at least not until the stitches have faded? Why doesn’t Handsome just come in and kill us now, before the spells have time to set?”

“The spells are set, Korol and we are immortal now; the stars make that happen. When the stitches fade from the chains, the chains will be grafted into our flesh and can never be removed. We have the gifts, Korolwyn; we just need to finish growing into them. Debra’s Circle wasn’t given time to grow into their gifts and as I’m sure you all know now, they have had a very hard time dealing with it all. Since we are going to war much sooner than they are, Serenity didn’t want us handicapped in the same manner. We all know what happened to Debra because she hadn’t fully grown into her gifts. I need to take a walk.”

Tris stood and with a sigh, she was gone. The cave seemed smaller with her not there. Airidon looked at Shrina and shrugged. “I guess we know now what is happening with the stitches.” Then he turned back to the meat he and Fini were carving and whistled as he worked.

Outside the cave, spring was starting to come to the forest. The commonly used paths were already free of snow and were muddy messes on wet days. The streams and lakes were swollen with melted snow and speeding the water on its way south to the Emeron Ocean. Small snow flowers shot deep purple and rich golden buds through the remaining drifts and mud. New shoots of grass pushed toward the sunlight, joining fresh fronds of fern from the undergrowth.

Saplings that bowed under the weight of heavy winter snow stretched forth their branches gathering the glorious spring warmth. The simple winter birds were being challenged by the bright songbirds of summer for the sweetest tunes. Deep in the trees, snow still muffled all sound and struggled for dominance. A few of the sleeping animals were making tentative explorations away from their comfortable dens in search of a pre-spring meal.

Tris wandered down a few of the less frequently used paths, lost in thought and enjoying the sharp spice of the evergreens and the freezing crispness of the snow. When her feet stopped, she frowned, gathering her bearings. Looking around the glade, a tear slid down her face.

Spring had come to this place much sooner than the rest of the forest, as was customary. Tulips and daffodils were already in full bloom alongside the crocus, hyacinth, and faerie lace. Bright green shoots were growing from the many different roses and the gladiolas and hollyhocks were sending their stalks reaching for the sun. Grass and moss already covered the ground and ferns spread their fronds with impressive displays of verdant lace. In the center of the glade stood a magnificent weeping birch with creamy white bark and dark brown whorls making wonderful patterns along the trunk. Tiny emerald leaves were unfurling throughout the many branches.

Tris walked over and knelt between two of the roots and wrapped her arms around the ancient tree and wept. Her hot tears searing the ground where they fell and tiny snow star blossoms sprang to life where the drops landed.

“Drianne, gods above and below, I miss you. I want you back with me; I need you back with me. Noshtra is trying to help me, but without your guidance it is like getting only the stem of the flower and not the blossom. There is so much to tell you and so much I need to hear. Oh gods, please return to me as soon as you can.”

Wiping away the tears, Tris stood and looked out over Drianne’s gardens and allowed more tears to fall. A purple haze filled her sight, as Tris spun her magic around the sleeping flowers and sang them awake. A flurry of buttercups and violets sprang to life at Tris’s command, mingling with more faerie lace and sylph’s rose. Saplings that tried to move into the well-tended gardens were moved beyond the borders to fight for space in the forest.

Noshtra silently moved to stand next to Tris and gave a slight yelp as one of Drianne’s branches brushed a bit of snow from her back. The she-wolf’s eyes widened when the Dryad winked at her and then turned back to watch Tris play with the garden.

“Well, peacock, I must say those violets are an amazing shade of purple. Where did you get the pattern for the fire gold in their center?”

Tris spun around quickly; her eyes wide in surprise and going rapidly from purple to blue. “Drianne!” Reaching out, Tris wrapped her arms around the tree once more and held it tightly. “But how?”

The Dryad’s musical laughter filled the glade with sunlight and butterflies floated down from the skies to kiss the myriad of flowers. Songbirds filled Drianne’s branches and welcomed the Dryad back home. “You cried, Tris.” She answered. “I think we need a little more pink in that corner there.” Drianne said as she used her own magic to awaken a few more bulbs. “There, that is much better.”

“Wait a minute, Drianne; if all it took for you to return was for me to cry, then why didn’t you come back last fall? Or midwinter after Handsome invaded and Chaos almost killed Debra? I cried both of those times as well and nothing happened.”

“My poor little Peacock,” Drianne said and wrapped her branches around Tris and held her gently. “You are still so very young and know so little of your own peoples. I regret that I was unable to teach you more about them because I simply didn’t know about them until recently. Most Demons don’t cry, Tris, they can’t; only the most powerful Demons even have tear ducts. When a Demon has tear ducts and can produce tears it releases a very powerful magic that there is no fighting against. But, it takes a Demon to cry three times for something for it to happen. You have tear ducts, a gift from both of your parents, and because of Debra you know how to cry. Three times you have come and shed tears against my tree, demanding my return. Not even Greenbough himself was able to resist the pull of your magic and I was allowed to return to Sandeenai, the only Dryad currently here.”

Tris swayed as she heard about her Demon talent and would have fallen had not Drianne’s branches kept her upright. Heeding Noshtra’s advice, Tris sat down and took several deep breaths. When she could once again think logically, she looked up at Drianne. “What else have you learned in your absence?”

With a smile, Drianne enclosed her two heart-sisters in her branches and they spent the next few hours just catching up. Tris told about the two Circles and how they all got together. Noshtra spoke of the forest, awaking from winter. Drianne listened to both and shared what she had learned of both Circles, Tris, and the prophecy.

Jehro entered the cave and watched as Fini put a few herbs on the deer haunch before spitting it over the fire for dinner. Shrina was counting the patterns in her cloak and on her boots. Airidon and Tyra were sharpening their weapons. Meckin and Korol weren’t in the cave but were out somewhere in the forest.

“Has anyone seen Tris lately?” Jehro asked, turning back to look out into the trees. He was wearing his half-elf face and body, but traces of red shone in his golden locks. His delicate hand rested on the hilt of his fang and he pressed his other hand against the upper slant of the cave opening.

“Why, Jehro? Is something wrong?” Airidon asked, sliding his sword into his sheath and joining the Chameling at the mouth of the cave. Listening for any out of place sound, Airidon scanned the trees for signs of possible invaders.

“I don’t know, Airidon. I felt something, out in the forest, while I was running with Noshtra’s cubs and Meckin. It didn’t feel threatening, but right after it happened I couldn’t feel Tris’s life anywhere.” Jehro reached out with all his senses, searching for the bright blue dance of magic that told him where Tris was.

Airidon’s hand fell on Jehro’s shoulder and the Chameling turned to face the second in command. “What are you feeling now, Jehro?”

“The forest is happy. More and more animals are waking and venturing out, even though there is still deep snow in many parts of the woods. Where spring has a foothold along the paths and in the glades, more flowers than ever have opened their petals. If I could locate Tris I would say nothing is more peaceful than our forest right this minute. But in all of this, I can’t replace her.” Jehro turned worried eyes from Airidon back to the trees. “Meckin said not to worry; Noshtra was with Tris and if anyone can keep tabs of our Demon Elf it’s Noshtra. But I can’t replace Noshtra either. I think I’ll go out and try to replace her again. Something is happening and I just wish I knew what it was.” Before Airidon could say anything, Jehro turned into a wolf and dashed into the trees, his nose to the ground.

Drianne threw her branches high and took a deep breath of spring air. “Ah, it’s good to be back, but now it is time for me to sleep a little. It’s exhausting being drug back to Sandeenai through the power of Demon tears. I think I know now why Trisandar was so tired the first time he and Jaqukwen met.”

Tris looked at Drianne and frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll let Noshtra tell you the tale, I must sleep. Bring your Circle to me before you go into battle, Peacock.” Drianne said and went to sleep.

Tris turned to Noshtra, tilting her head to one side in question. Noshtra took a breath to gather her thoughts. “Well, Tris, your mother had been dreaming of your father for some time before they actually met. She used her magic to watch him and was drawn to his calm authority. She told me this in the final moments before your birth. Jaqukwen knew she had to meet this Trisandar and replace out if he were truly the man she thought him to be. She cried three times to meet Trisandar and to bring him here for that meeting.

“When Trisandar arrived, he was exhausted having traveled non-stop for a week to get here from Trinthalas because of the pull of the calling from Jaqukwen. He said he too had been dreaming of her and was happy to finally meet her as well. They spent several days here, well, not this glade but in this forest, talking and getting to know each other. They decided to risk having a child together in the hopes of bringing peace to both of their peoples. So Jaqukwen cried three times again; and they conceived you.” Noshtra lifted her head and listened to something on the wind. “I must go; I’ll see you later, Tris, happy spring.”

With even more on her mind, Tris wandered along the familiar paths of her home. She wondered about the glade where her parents had met and conceived her, and then she knew where it was and smiled. A thought crossed her mind and she giggled.

Gliding through the forest, an unconscious smile on her face, Tris plotted. She stopped and watched the spring birds flying home for the season. A family of rabbits ran across her path and dived into a thick thorn bush. Bees hummed, busily gathering pollen from the flowers poking through the mud and slush. For the first time since she returned, her forest felt like home. And the Elf in Tris was in control.

“Tris? Tris, are you okay?” A tree squirrel jumped down and as it landed, changed into the redheaded Chameling. He walked around her, his hand cupping his chin, studying her. “Something has changed. Has..., no they haven’t joined us. Airidon isn’t around. Okay, I give, what’s happened?”

Tris took a deep breath as she followed the path of new butterfly. She jumped when she saw Jehrones standing next to her. “Hello, my friend, when did you arrive? Don’t you just love spring? All the new flowers and young birds and the fresh green of life; it’s so intoxicating. Do you feel like singing a few songs, or playing a few dances? I have instruments handy.” Tris brought her eyebrows together in concern as Jehro paled. “Is there something wrong? Did you have a problem you wanted to discuss? Jehrones, sit down before you fall over.” Gently, she guided him to sit at the base of a tree.

“Tris, are you alright? You aren’t yourself? What’s happening?” the Chameling asked mentally, holding his head as if trying to stop it from falling off. Out loud he demanded, “Will you please stop trying to confuse me, Tris? I was coming to replace you, I felt your sorrow, and then I felt nothing and became worried. And now you’re talking like some lovesick teenager. What’s going on!?”

“My poor, heart brother, hasn’t anyone ever told you that following the thoughts of a woman are next to impossible. And for the record, I am still a teenager; I’ll be eighteen in two weeks.” Tris stood and swung her arms out, spinning around. Looking up, she watched as the treetops formed a dark green circle against the blue sky. “I’m happy, Jehrones Cinnabar, and I don’t care who knows it. Debra’s strong again, Airidon loves me, Shrelannasha is mellowing, and Drianne is back. Not even Handsome himself could steal my mood from me.” Tris dropped to the ground in front of her shocked friend and rocked on her hands and knees, a twinkle in her eyes. Looking away, listening to a mating call being answered; a smile grew on Tris’s face. Turning a sly grin to Jehro, she lifted her eyebrows. “I think I’ll take that stuffy little Dwarf of mine out somewhere and ravish him. Oh, Airidon,” she called in a singsong voice. Jumping up, Tris ran to the caves where the Circle had spent the winter.

“Poor Airidon,” Jehro groaned as he closed his eyes and leaned back against the tree. His head was in a whirlwind of confusion. In the time he had known Tris, he never even suspected there was a giddy side to her, as she was always so serious and headstrong. This was something so completely at odds with what he knew, he wondered if it might be a spell. Then he went over what she said again and stood up, racing for a certain glade in the heart of the forest to see for himself if it was true.

Except for the sudden explosion of flowers and butterflies, it appeared as it had all winter. Then he felt the presence that hadn’t been there before. It was subtle, gentle, yet unyielding in its strength of purpose. “Drianne?” he whispered, not really knowing what to expect.

Jehro took a step back when eyes opened in the trunk of the weeping birch. One of the whorls curled up and a soft, musical laugh sounded. “Yes, I am Drianne, and from your feel, you are the heart. Come forward, don’t be afraid.”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Lady Drianne, but Tris was acting so strange and I thought maybe you could shed some light on it.” Jehro said, stepping closer to the Dryad. “I’ve always wanted to meet a Dryad and have never had the chance. I’m Jehrones Cinnabar, Jehro to my friends.”

“And probably Jehrones to Tris who has the irritating habit of never using nicknames.” Drianne laughed and motioned with a branch for Jehro to take a seat. “Explaining Tris isn’t something I can do in a few short moments, so you might as well be comfortable.”

Chuckling, Jehro nodded and found a comfortable hollow to sit in while he listened to Drianne. He was surprised at the warmth and dryness of the moss he was sitting on, remarking that it was more summer growth than early spring.

“That is for Tris. Until this year, she hasn’t ever really spent time under shelter, no matter the time of year. I have always kept one small patch of moss warm and dry for her to sleep on. Noshtra and I thought she would die of exposure many times, but she just shrugged it off and shifted her form to something better able to handle the cold. Tris was always the stubborn one.” Drianne explained while she studied the Chameling. She gathered her thoughts, sifted through them, deciding which ones she would share with him.

“As for her current behavior, it is pretty typical of her during this season. Spring is the one time of year she gets to use her magical abilities to help shape the growth and feel of the forest. The rest of the time, she must use her magic for survival, hunting, and of late, battle. I have encouraged her to this use of her magic and so am used to the almost drunken state she lives in during the early spring. It’s a rather heady feeling, creating life from death.”

Jehro thought about it before saying anything. He could sense Drianne holding back, testing him. Up until she was forced to leave Sandeenai last autumn, Drianne had been Tris’s closest advisor where Noshtra had been a teacher, now Tris had others to fill the void that the Dryad and she-wolf had filled. He wondered how much of the holding back was due to jealousy. Nodding his head, he looked up at Drianne and smiled at her.

“I guess it would be, I didn’t think about it that way. I also think having her heart sister back with her has lifted a weight from her shoulders. And she is in love for the first time in her life. I suppose all of that would account for the sudden mood swings she’s been having today.”

“Tris is in love? Who is he?” Drianne asked, leaning a little closer to Jehro. When he chuckled at her, she had to giggle herself. “Well, I am a woman as well and I love a little harmless gossip, especially about my little peacock.”

“Peacock, eh? Yes, I can see that. His name is Airidon and he’s the second in command. He’s part Dwarf and part Human. Only Fini is taller than him and no one can hold a candle to his weapon prowess. He has red hair and green eyes and freckles across a nose that is all Dwarf. He’s only a little older than Tris herself but he has a wisdom that far outweighs his years. He likes to play with stone and wood, creating all kinds of things from them. He dotes on Tris and she adores him.”

Drianne sighed and relaxed back on her roots. “So he is a good man, it is more than I hoped for. You see, Jehro, heart of the Circle, I have always worried that Tris wouldn’t replace love or would replace it with a man who wouldn’t understand she has to have her gentle side nurtured. But you have put my heart at ease, for that I thank you. Where was Tris going when you left her?”

Jehro grinned wolfishly and waggled his eyebrows at Drianne. “She said, and I quote, ‘I think I’ll take that stuffy little Dwarf of mine out somewhere and ravish him. Oh, Airidon,’ and then she ran off toward the cave we’ve been living in.” Drianne laughed at Jehro’s mimicry of Tris’s voice and tone. “So your guess is as good as mine, Drianne.”

“Mine is probably better than yours only by the fact that I know the forest better than you do and I’ve known Tris her whole life and you for less than a year. You probably won’t see her or this Airidon for a day or two so don’t worry. Thank you for talking to me, Jehro, and I hope that we can become good friends.” Drianne said with a smile.

“I think that becoming good friends won’t be a problem. I think it will most likely be trying not to get under each other’s skin too badly.” Jehro said standing and dusting himself off. “You haven’t met Shrina yet, you’ll understand better when you have. Have a good nap, Drianne.” Whistling, he left the glade with a little more peace of mind than when he entered.

“Airidon, can you come out here a moment.” Tris called as she neared the cave. She had picked some faerie lace and woven it into her hair and its delicate scent complemented her current mood.

Airidon stuck his head out of the cave and grunted. “It will have to wait, Tris, I’m up to my elbows in blood from this deer. Jehro was looking for you; he seemed worried that something had happened to you.”

Frowning, Tris leaned against a tree by the stream and looked into the cave. She watched as Airidon finished hanging several chunks of meat to cure over the fire. Fini was rubbing one of his herb blends into the raw flesh as Airidon moved out of his way. It was something the two men had done many times in the past several months and Tris never once commented on how disgusting the odor of curing meat smelled to her. She had heard from the others that it smelled and tasted wonderful, she could never understand it.

As she waited and thought about what the two men were doing, she remembered a time in Savine. She had been trapped in a human body by a spell of Handsome’s creating. She remembered eating roasted meats and thinking they tasted good, even though the thought of it now gagged her. Also in the memories was how she had used special herbs to get the attention of Fini and the others in the Circle. Tris wondered if they ever thought of that time, as she did, and about what might have happened had things been different.

Pulling a bag of dried sylph’s rose from her cloak, she tossed it into the cave so it would hit Fini’s foot. He stopped what he was doing, looked at Tris and then at the bag. Bending over, he frowned as he picked it up and opened it. Lifting some of the fragrant herb to his nose, a laugh broke from him. “Never again will I smell sylph’s rose and not think of a barmaid named Dina. Thanks Tris.” Fini said, tucking the pouch into his belt and continued seasoning the meat for curing.

Airidon washed his hands in the one of the buckets Fini had brought up from the stream earlier. Drying them on a piece of hide, he walked out of the cave and over to Tris. “What was it you wanted?”

Tris pushed away from the tree and looked him over. He had never looked better to her, but she sensed his mind wasn’t really on being with her. His thoughts were working out what chores needed to be done next and trying to decide if gathering wood or water was more important at the moment.

“I just wanted to show you something in the forest, but if you are too busy to be bothered, forget it.” She started to walk off and felt his hand on her arm. Looking from his hand to his face, she lifted a brow. “Airidon, I’m not in the mood for your games. Remove your hand or I’m taking it with me.”

“Give me a minute to get my sword, Tris.” Airidon said after a moment and went back into the cave. He said something to Fini Tris didn’t hear as he slung his weapon around his waist and secured it. Fini nodded, looked at Tris, and then turned back to the spit he was turning. Airidon then joined Tris by the stream.

Without giving him a second look, Tris took off through the trees, going deeper and deeper into the forest. The silence of winter wrapped itself around them as they moved through deep snow under night dark trees. The fading light of day wasn’t able to penetrate the thickness of the evergreen boughs and chase away the shadows and cold. For a moment, Airidon wished he had taken his cloak as well, but he didn’t think they would be going this far into the forest. He was still a little unsure of it because of the stories he had heard all of his life about this part of Taniry.

“Tris, where are we going?” He asked. When she didn’t answer, he looked back into the gathering gloom and saw their foot prints fading from sight. “If you don’t tell me, I’m going to go back, Tris. I’m not in the mood for one of your games either.”

Tris looked back over her shoulder at him, irritated. “It’s just up ahead, Airidon, over the next rise.” She answered and then turned back and continued to lead the way through the trees. She listened and heard him take one step and then another and knew he would follow her.

Golden light from the last rays of the day’s sun broke through the trees and warmed the air so suddenly it was like a door opened. Airidon stepped past Tris into the glade and whistled in amazement. Spring was already here, in full bloom. A small stream bubbled to the surface and disappeared at the far end of the clearing. Moss and grass was thick and sweet with clover mixing with the ground covering. Bees buzzed in their rush to get back to a hive near the meadow before the sun went to bed and trapped them in the dark.

“What is this place?” Airidon asked, as he walked around marveling at each new discovery of spring. He picked a handful of forget-me-nots and buried his nose in them. “It’s like a little piece of heaven.”

“This is where my parents first met and where I was conceived. It’s where I was born.” Tris said softly, walking to Airidon’s side and resting her hand on his arm. “This place is protected from the uninvited by magic set in motion by my mother. Airidon, I want to celebrate spring, here, now, with you. Will you help me?”

Airidon looked into the brilliant blue eyes of his love and brushed a strand of golden red hair from her face. “All you had to do was ask, Trisinda Jaqukwen.” He whispered and then tenderly pulled her to him in an embrace. She lifted her face and shared an explosion of desire as their lips met.

“I love you, Airidon Cybrec.” Tris breathed as they broke the kiss. She felt Airidon’s arms tighten around her and his lips press hot kisses against her neck. She held him close, feeling her heart and breath racing as the slightest of his touches caused her skin to burn. Her fingers dug into his back as he found her earlobe and suckled it for a moment, his breath hot against her ear. “I love you, Trisinda Jaqukwen.” He replied.

Pulling back a little, he looked into her eyes and marveled at how very deep the blue was. He glanced down as she unbuckled his sword and let it drop and then back up into her face. A slow smile spread across his face as he watched Tris unlace her tunic.

Chaos wondered for a moment how Debra would react in such a situation. Then he laughed as he came to the conclusion this situation would never happen with Debra because she wouldn’t allow it. Then he sighed and wondered just what it would take for Debra to feel the pull of her Elven blood.

He chuckled as he watched Airidon’s surprise at Tris’s wild abandon to her celebration of spring. Chaos wondered if Airidon had a clue his serious Demon Elf was no more than a child and still had a lot of growing up to do. Well, soon the whole Circle would know.