“Elesiayah! Elesiayah,” Arabel’s childish voice called insistently as her little hands tugged determinedly at the thin blanket that covered Elesiayah in her narrow bed. “You have to get up now! Mama says it’s time!”

Elesiayah groaned and opened her emerald eyes. Arabel was kneeling on the bed beside her, her brown eyes wide as her expression flickered between excitement and stubborn insistence at Elesiayah’s refusal to cooperate with her. “I’m up, I’m up,” Elesiayah muttered around a yawn. “What’s your hurry, little one?”

“It’s your name day, Siayah! Don’t you ‘member?” Arabel bounced on the bed in excitement, her blond curls dancing around her angelic face.

Elesiayah blinked and jerked upright in the bed, her auburn hair falling in fiery waves around her shoulders. It was her name day! How could she have forgotten that? It was the reason she had been awake as Sister Moon made the first half of her trek across the sky.

Indeed, it was the reason she had been awake for the past thirteen treks. Her devotions in preparation of the ceremony had demanded that she spend that time in reflection of the gifts she had already been granted and in preparation of those to come. Because she had already been granted the Gift of Peace and of Sight, her devotions had lasted hours longer than most. Her mama was sure she was destined for greatness and had steadfastly refused to allow her to shirk the responsibility of those nightly devotions in the least little way.

Elesiayah sighed and rolled her neck to ease the tightness that the past thirteen nights of communion with Sister Moon, coupled with the few hours of uneasy sleep she had snatched, had sank deep into her muscles. She tossed the blankets back and climbed to her feet, wincing slightly as the cool air in the room nipped at her. She had been so too tired after her devotions to bother with the fire. She regretted that now.

The scent in the sky last night had promised snow and if the air in the room was any indication, it was snowing, indeed. “Not at all a good day to go trooping through the forest in naught but my skin.” She remarked dryly and ruffled Arabel’s hair.

Her little sister giggled. “Mama says it’s just another sign of your destiny, Siayah.”

“Does she?” Elesiayah did not doubt that. Everything was a sign to Mama these last weeks. “Where is Mama, little sister?”

“Right here,” Lisette answered, sailing into the room, a steaming cup of tea held before her. “Why aren’t you ready yet?” she stared at her eldest daughter, frowning. “We must hurry.”

Elesiayah opened her mouth to argue and closed it again with a mental shake of her head. Arguing with her mother would get her nowhere, not today at any rate. Lisette had been looking forward to this day since Elesiayah had first granted Peace as a little girl. There would be no reasoning with her today. “Yes mama,’ she said instead and quickly removed her nightrail. It was no more over her head than she began shivering.

Lisette set the steaming cup of tea on the dresser and ushered Elesiayah forward. “There’s no time for a fire now, dear. Sit and drink your tea while I draw the symbols.”

Elesiayah sat, grabbing for the warmth of the tea as she did. “What hour is it?”

“Seven,” her little sister chirped and skipped across the room to the paints, her hazel eyes shining.

Elesiayah smiled fondly at her. Arabel was as excited at her own small role in the ceremony as her mother was at the ceremony in general. As was the custom when one was granted leave to visit the Eye, Elesiayah had been allowed to choose one attendant, aside from her mama, to make the trek from the village to Al’kiaan- the Eye- with her. While she could have chosen from any number of friends, she would never have done so. It was her little sister’s right to play a part in this ceremony and Elesiayah would not have dreamed of denying her that. It would have broken Arabel’s little heart to be excluded from something so important.

“Yes seven,” Lisette confirmed and quickly ran the brush through Elesiayah’s hair before setting it aside and picking up the thin paint brush. Arabel extended the paint before her. Lisette closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath. Her eyes popped open as quickly as they had closed and she dipped the brush into the paint and made several deft strokes over Elesiayah’s heart. “We start for the forest at the first chime of eight.”

Elesiayah sighed inwardly but held her tongue. Walking nude through the snow on three hours of sleep to Al’kiaan was not a task she relished undertaking this morning. Her dreams had left her feeling oddly out of sorts and in truth, she was rather terrified of the tasks Al’kiaan would set before her. As much as she did not want to disappoint her mother, she did not seek greatness either. All she wanted was to be surrounded by people she loved and to be of service to them.

For years she had dreamed of a dark warrior Feyahni claiming her as his own, but that had not happened and she had finally come to the realization that those dreams were exactly that. Dreams. They were not visions destined for truth as many of her visions were. She was meant for something else. And no matter what those dreams repeatedly told her, it was not a Feyahni warrior claiming her that lay in store for her.

That the dreams continued clamoring despite that knowledge disturbed her. They should have stopped upon the realization that it was not to be. Instead, they continued to haunt her sleep as they had for years. Not once in all of those years that the dreams had visited her- nightly more often than not- had she spoken of them. They were hers and hers alone. That made them inviolate in some way she could not have said had it been required of her. Something seemed to almost whisper that she not speak of those dreams; something told her to clutch them to her heart and tell no one. Danger and destruction, that whisper said, would not wait long if she let them slip free of her mind.

Elesiayah was Riyhna enough to know that heeding those whispers was non negotiable. She may have been mortal, but she had been raised at the foot of the Valhyra Mountains where the Riyhna dwelled and she followed the Riyhna mysticism as much as anyone. In truth, she followed it more so than others, for mama demanded that it was the will of the Gods that Elesiayah pay homage to the Riyhna teachings as thanks for the Gifts that had been bestowed upon her.

Elesiayah accepted those Gifts and the Magick they brought her, but the greatness her mama said was to be hers? That worried her as much as the continuation of those dreams. Greatness demanded sacrifice and Elesiayah had never been good at that. She gave it grudgingly, but her heart always cried out for all of it. She did not want the sorrows and heartaches that came with greatness anymore than she wanted the greatness itself. She had enough sorrows and heartaches to last her a lifetime. She would have to be far more foolish than she was to yearn for more knowing the devastations more would bring to her.

“Are you ready, Siayah?” Lisette asked and drew the next set of marks; twin drakons curling around Elesiayah’s left arm. They were the symbol of the Mother, of the Father, of power, might and magick. All of those things that made this world what it was and gave this particular journey some greater sense of meaning and purpose.

Not that it really needed any greater meaning or purpose. Elesiayah was the first in twenty years to be granted leave to visit the Eye; the first in all of those years to be granted those Gifts that made her worthy of a visit to the Eye. She should have been proud. She should have been eager. “No,” Elesiayah admitted with a heavy sigh. She was not ready, not ready by half.

“Why not, Siayah?” Arabel patted her right hand, attempting in her own little way to give Elesiayah a little peace of mind, a little comfort. Arabel would be an amazing woman one day. Elesiayah was sure of that much.

She smiled at her little sister again. “I’m afraid, little sister.”

“Of what, love?” Mama stopped painting to stare at her daughter, her hazel eyes two warm lights of concern.

“In truth? I know not.” She didn’t know, not really. Well, she did know, but she had no clue how to start sorting those fears into some rational and explicable pile that her mother would understand. “I suppose I’m just being silly, Mama.”

Lisette examined her for a moment longer and then resume her painting. “There is nothing to be afraid of Elesiayah. The Gods would not have granted you a fate you are not strong enough to carry. Al’kiaan knows that. There is nothing to fear.”

“Aye, I know,” she lied. There was no talking to her mama. She would merely continue attempting to soothe her worries as all good mamas did and never really hear what she was trying to say. She did not fear a destiny she could not handle, what she feared was much bigger and more twisted than that.

Elesiayah had hidden her potential for years, once again heeding those silent whispers. As far as anyone knew, Elesiayah could grant Peace and had the Gift of Sight. No one knew that Empathy sang in her blood. She had, for good or ill, been able to take on the emotions of others and pass her own emotions along in the same way for ages. And she had, in response to those silent whispers, kept it secret. No one knew that the tears they cried were not always their own tears, but hers. No one knew that the anger they sometimes felt burning inside was not their own anger, but hers.

Al’kiaan would not be so easily fooled. He would look into her soul, see the anger that lived there, see the lies she had told and announce to the world that the Gods had been wrong. That the Gods had gifted a fake with the power to shake the world. And when Al’kiaan stopped laughing at the cruel irony, he would make his pronouncement. Elesiayah would lead as Healer of her people. It would be his way of paying tribute to Lady Irony for the gift she had made in Elesiayah; a final punishment for the insanity that had led her down the path of lies so very long ago and kept her feet trodding it even though her heart cried at every step.

No one knew, and they would all suffer for it, because of her. That devastated her. She wanted to scream to the world who she was, but her tongue seemed cloved to the roof of her mouth and the words choked her every time she thought to speak them. They would not come. And every day, she hated that. She had let everyone down and she could not stop it. For whatever reason, the Gods did not want her to speak of it and so she didn’t. She granted peace and prayed that it would be enough to make up for the hurt she knew she gave others. That hurt was her hurt and because she could not speak of it, others had to feel it for her, with her. Always because of her.

Normally, to be granted the name of Healer would be a joyous occasion. For Elesiayah, that title would be bittersweet. Those granted Empathy were not, by rule, allowed to be Healers as well. For their protection and that of the people, it was not allowed. Elesiayah, however, would break those rules because that damnable whisper had demanded she keep it silent. Her dreams told her that she would be Healer and she had sense enough to know when those dreams were Truths. This one had all the trappings of Truth.

It was, like or not, what she was meant to do. She did not want it, did not relish it. To hurt the people she was meant to heal would kill her spirit, the very part of herself that wept for such deceit. The anger that she carried with her would rule where always before purity had reigned would break her heart. But, what choice did she have, really? Ceangas pleasakn dieya, as the Feyahni axiom went.

“Come, Elesiayah, it’s time to purify yourself and go to Al’kiaan.” Lisette sat the paints aside and stepped back with a proud smile.

Elesiayah cringed inwardly at that smile and stood. She was not ready, but it was what it was. She would accept the duty. She had no choice. It seemed the Gods and Goddesses would demand it of her. She might hate sacrifice, but even she knew when to bow to fate and let the blood flow. She just wished the proverbial blood was not her life, her peace of mind, her sanity. But then, when had her most secret of wishes and desires ever come true?

“I’m ready, Mama.” She squared her shoulders and marched from the room, wrapping determination around her as tightly as she could. She could do this. She would do this. And she would serve her people well doing it.