The Gift
(Extended Version)

by Trystl

 Chapter One

 1

The Balipam estate was not small but neither was it the largest in Essoria. It was spacious, however, and every bit as elegant as was fashionable among the wealthiest citizens. For many years it had been neglected and left to decay, but in the last few years it had been restored to much of its former beauty. The mansion�s sheetrock walls had been scrapped free of discoloring mold and climbing vines; then scrubbed with brushes until the cracks were as pure and clean as a new work. The stone carvings had been patched and gilded; and all the iron work had been repaired by the city�s most skilled workers. Even the grounds�from the front gate to the farthest gardens at the foot of the hill�had been remade into a verdant paradise of exquisite flower gardens and unique magical herbs.

Three years ago, Tereesan would never have believed this ruined place could be so thoroughly and convincingly revived. It pleased him to see the work being done, yet he knew it was not his doing. If it had been left to him, the place would still be in ruins. Serria was the one who had organized and overseen the details of the restoration, from lavishly redecorating the house to the new landscaping. Her creative magic touched everything but his herb gardens and even there she had insisted on decorating the borders with tiled rows of white slabs; each garden had a small table with four chairs, all cut from the same solid white marble as the slabs.

Tereesan stabbed the loose mixture of dirt with his hand trowel opening a small hole for one of his Peridium seedlings. Holding the tiny shoot in place he packed the dirt tight around it, then soaked the plant with a cup of water from his watering bucket.

As he reached for another seedling, he glanced over at Serria. She sat with legs crossed, playing her flute. As usual, she was leaning against one of the marble lawn chairs instead of sitting on it. Her head rocked gently from side to side, in that peculiar envelope of calm that he thought of as bordering on trance. Lacy notes poured from her instrument, as her fingers moved with the effortless grace of long practice. A Deeper rumbling sounds came from the sent-sensitive tymbals along the sides of her throat.

Tereesan loved to hear and watch Serria play; and this melody was one of his favorites: a powerfully sad and haunting song reserved for the planting of but a few herbs�so it was rare that he had the opportunity to hear it while he worked. He liked to take his time, letting the music and his work relax him; pausing occasionally to watch Serria�s fingers fluttering like delicate moth wings across the holes of her flute; or the fascinating rhythm of her tymbals flapping open like fish gills. The folds of flesh bulged with the distinctively soothing sounds that marked her as Amorian and not human.

Serria reached the end of the refrain and lowered her flute, turning to look expectantly towards the house.

Tereesan followed her glance and was not surprised to see Savyn descending the stepping stones of the terraced lawn.

Serria always knew. Even when her eyes were closed.

�Ah Savyn,� Tereesan said cheerfully as she came nearer. �Have you come to help us plant?�

Of his servants, Savyn was the only one Tereesan trusted to tend his herbs on the rare occasions when he and Serria had to leave for an extended time. She however, did not particularly enjoy the work.

It had become a private joke between the three of them.

Savyn smiled and responded with her own private joke: an elaborate obeisance, as if she were really the slave she often pretended to be when they were in public company.

�You know I�m always happy to help with your plants,� Savyn said with an exaggerated look of disgust. �When you�ll let me, that is. But unfortunately I have news that I think will take me away from your gardens...a man has brought a woman for a pedigree reading on her unborn child. I left them waiting in the library, but he was quite impatient.�

Tereesan glanced at Serria. She said nothing. Already she had tucked her flute under her arm. Her identity choker came out of her pocket and she clasped it around her neck.

�Who is he?� Tereesan asked, brushing dirt from his hands. 

�He said his name was Delin Mornigan. I didn�t insist on more since he didn�t seem inclined to give it. I�m quite sure he is Comilaun, though. He has the size and look. And he carries himself in the manner of one trained for the warrior elite.�

Tereesan glanced at Serria, raising his brow. Her face held no emotion at all, but her eyes burned with a strange intensity that he knew usually meant trouble.

�I found it curious,� Savyn continued, �That the woman with him is of Mordian blood. No doubt every bit as pure as mine.�

�Very well,� Tereesan said, even more curious now. �Tell him that we�ll see him as soon as we�ve cleaned up a bit.�

Savyn curtsied and went back towards the house.

�Delin Mornigan,� Serria spit the name out as they started towards the house. �Do you know him?�

�Not that I recall.�

�If he�s a Comilaun warrior, as Savyn suggests...�

�This Mordian woman is not likely to be his,� he said, finishing her sentence. �It would explain why he has come to us instead of any number of other readers who would be more politically suitable for one in his... position.�

She smiled, with that expression that always reminded him of a wolf closing in on its prey. �Yes. If he has come to us in earnest, he must be desperate indeed.�

�Perhaps he�s short on fund,� Tereesan said, hoping to lighten her mood. Her wolf smile always made him nervous.

�No com-warrior is that short!� she said with a bitter laugh.

�No, I suppose not.�

Serria chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip.

The emperor�s warriors were well paid, and their honor code would never let them come begging for charity. �Most would rather die first!�

�He�ll want to keep this visit secret from his... significant others,� Tereesan said.

�Unless they already know.�

�Do you suspect some treachery?�

�No; it�s much to obvious. Still, it wouldn�t hurt to take precautions. No sense making ourselves easy prey. Signal the house gaurds to keep a close watch.

�I�m sure they already are.�

�And don�t turn your back to him.�

Tereesan smiled, and was surprised to feel the wolf grin on his own lips. �I never intended to,� he said.

2

Delin paced nervously in front of the long row of shelving, occasionally browsing through one of the books in Tereesan�s library. The number and diversity of the volumes surprised him. He knew Tereesan was wealthy, but he was appalled by the wanton squandering of so much money on books. The man couldn�t possibly find time to read all of them, and some were on subjects that he found difficult to believe even Tereesan would be interested in. There were books on just about any subject he could think of; and more on subject with names he didn�t even recognize. Other volumes seemed to be histories of various people and places, but he recognized only an occasional name.

He picked up another book randomly flipping through its pages. It appeared at first to be an obscure tome on mathematics. He recognized very little other than the numbers. The text was written in a language he recognized only from some of the other books he had looked through�its alphabet was composed of incomprehensible squiggles. But from the various illustration he began to suspect that it was a work on some obscure form of magical practice.

He wondered with a shiver, which magical discipline it was.

Somehow, it had the feel of a blacker magic. One thing he was fairly certain of, it was not on the art of Tabi healing or soul reading.

Disgusted, he turned away from the shelving and took a deep, impatient breath.

Sharmain sat calmly in one of the large overstuffed chairs. She felt his eyes on her and looked up: smiled uncertainly. He could feel the magnetic pull of her even from across the room. She looked abruptly away, and he realized that he was scowling. As he watched her nervous hands fidgeting in her lap, his frown deepened.

Did she expect his reassurances? Well he was unable to give them; and he felt no remorse. Now at last he could look at her, and the knowledge that he could not possess her was no longer an exquisite torture. His desire for her was still a constant physical pull, but it was no longer accompanied by an emotional need. Now that it was to late, he could look at her and not see her beauty but only the chain and shackles that she had become. It was because of her that he had been forced to take this risk: coming to this place; and for that he would never forgive her.

Looking away; he moved across the room, putting more distance between them until even the physical pull was gone.

He heard footsteps, and voices echoing from out in the hall; and moved away from the wall to stand at rest as the doors opened.

Delin frowned as Tereesan�s servant entered the library. 

She looked so much like Sharmain, both in face and figure, that without a close inspection it would be impossible to tell whether or not they were identical twins. It irritated Delin to see another Sharmain standing arrogantly before him, without the yellow leather slave�s tunic, or the heavy collar about her neck.

It was unseemly for a woman to serve as her lord�s aver: to greet his guests and welcome them into his home�but this Mordian woman had no respect. She gazed at him boldly, almost critically; nodding her head ever so slightly. Much to subtly to be a sign of respect�making an insult of the greeting instead.

�Tereesan will be with you shortly,� she said. �Would you care for tea or perhaps something a little stronger.� She glanced towards Sharmain as if expecting her to answer.

�I�m fine,� Delin said coldly.

Sharmain�s arrogant double shrugged, and began to retreat.

�How long does he intend to keep me waiting?�

�They�ll be here as soon as they�ve washed,� she said. �You interrupted their work in the garden.�

Delin looked at her sharply. �Their work?�

�His consort, Serria, will be with Tereesan.�

Of course, what else should he have expected of such a man as Tereesan. A man who�s loyalties and social ties were questionable at best. A man who catered to vulgar mendicants, outlaws and the destitute unfortunates who could afford no one else. A man who was rumored to have sympathetic ties with heretics, and who had shelves full of books on the blacker magics.

What had possessed Delin to seek out such a man?

He looked at Sharmain, and felt the anger building up inside him. What was taking them so long anyway? He turned back to the stack of books and was about to pull down another when the double doors burst open.

�Tereesan and Serria Balipalm,� the Mordian servant announced proudly.

Delin watched silently as they enter the room.

They were an odd pair: aristocratic Tereesan with his pure Clestion breeding, and Serria who was so obviously a mongrel.

How should he greet a man who would let his consort�s name be given in greeting along with his own? He settled for no formal greeting at all. �You are Tereesan,� he said. �The healer?�

Tereesan smiled as if at a private joke. �The very same,� he said with a slight nod of his head: an acknowledgment from one equal to another. �At your service.� He nodded his head more deeply towards his blonde consort, giving her greater emphasis than himself. �And this is Serria.�

Delin glanced at her briefly, noticing that the red choker she wore was wider than most, as if to draw special attention to the blue stone that was cut in the shape of an �S� for her own name instead of the traditional �T� for Tereesan, her lord and liege.

She was studying him as well. After a moment she seemed satisfied and turned to Tereesan, making a subtle gesture as she smiled. Few others would have noticed the gesture at all, but Delin was to familiar with secretly coded gestures to miss it.

What puzzled him was that it was Tereesan�s consort who seemed to be taking the initiative; and making the orders.

He frowned, not even trying to cover up his reaction.

�I want a pedigree reading,� he said, nodding to indicate the Mordian woman sitting in the chair beside him.

�I assume from your attitude that you suspect this girl of betraying you...�

�Must I listen to your Amorian whore?� Delin said.

Tereesan�s expression barely changed, but behind his calm mask, Delin could see a flare of anger. His voice however was almost jovial when he spoke. �Serria is much more than my Amorian whore, as you say.�

�Call her what you will,� Delin snapped. �If she can�t keep her mouth shut, I�d prefer she leave the room.�

�If that�s the way you feel, sir, then I�m afraid I can not help you. You see, I have no skill in the reading of souls myself.� He shrugged blithely; and when he saw Delin�s reaction, he couldn�t help the slight smile that touched his lips for just a moment.

�Before I will do the reading,� Serria said, ignoring the exchange between the other two. �I must know why you want it.�

Delin glared at her coldly, and for a moment she thought he might choose to have his reading done elsewhere, rather than answer.

�My reasons are personal,� he said at length.

�So are my reasons for asking,� Serria countered without pause. �I will not help you if doing so will harm this girl. 

You must have known that. So why didn�t you just go to one of the other readers in Essoria. I�m sure they could provide you with what you need.�

�No! They could not.�

Serria looked at the Mordian slave, surprised by her outburst. This was indeed an interesting development. Not at all what she had expected.

Delin glared at the Mordian woman angrily, but when he made no verbal objections to her outburst she continued. �We came to you,� she hesitated, glancing at Tereesan then back. �Because you have a reputation for being discreet. The readers you mentioned would be only to willing to...spread rumors that could be very damaging to me.�

Serria smiled and turned to Delin. �Pardon my saying so, but you don�t seem like the sort of man who would help a woman unless you had some personal investment at stake.�

�We both have a lot at stake,� the young woman said. �My fieflord is...� she glanced at Delin again, and when he would not look at her she took a deep breath and went on. �He�s an empyreal magistrate; and not given to the casual attitude of most men towards their concubines. He would not be pleased if my child had the wrong mix of blood. Our only chance of avoiding disaster in such a case, is if we know the child�s blood-line before it is born.

�I see.� Serria turned to Delin. �You were assigned as her guard. Even if your lord doesn�t assume that it is yours, he will hold you responsible.�

 �She was my responsibility.� Delin agreed, looking down at the floor, his face livid with shame.

�You need someone who won�t run to your master with information in exchange for his favors,� Serria said. �And you�ve found me! I give you my word, I will never tell.�

She turned and approached the young slave woman, extending her hand. �Now,� she said, her voice gentle and reassuring. �Will you come with me?�

3

She took Serria�s hand, glancing at Delin for his nod of approval. Serria turned to him, �It will be easier to conduct the reading privately in my examination room.� Then without waiting, she turned and lead the woman from the library.

Delin frowned, took a step to follow, then hesitated.

Tereesan folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. �They will not be long,� he said as the door shut behind the women, and the sound of a deadbolt sliding into place let Delin know that he had lost his chance to follow.

When she had closed the door, Serria released the Mordian woman�s soft, slender hand and motioned for her to sit on a padded table. �What�s your name, my dear?� Serria asked.

She reached out and helped the woman pull her slave tunic over her head.

�I�m called Sharmain,� she said with a shy smile, as Serria took her tunic and laid it to one side.

�My name is Serria.�

Gently she pushed Sharmain back onto the padded table and traced her hand across the slight bulge in her stomach. �Just relax, now; and don�t be alarmed. My method is a little unorthodox, but I assure you that it is more effective than a pendulum or any of the other traditional method.�

Serria ignored Sharmain�s gasp of shock and surprise as she pressed her lips to the woman�s bared navel, cradling her waist gently in her arms. She pressed her cheek against the spot where her lips had touched. Remaining very still, she listened. Her eyes caught and held Sharmain, calming her fearful look with a reassuring smile.

The woman relaxed a little. Neither of them spoke as Serria quickly sank into trance.

Already she could hear the child�s beating heart: it was a strong pulse, and when she felt Sharmain�s muscles relaxing she closed her eyes and centered her thoughts towards that steady beating rhythm. The sound drew her to it. In her mind, it became a tiny throbbing luminescence, growing larger and brighter with each beat. It took form, growing solid; becoming the shape of a child. The shape of a male child with a Mordian predominance. She pressed closer to discover if he was pure Mordian, or if his body hid the blood of another phylo.

Reaching out with disembodied trance hands, she took the child gently; drawing herself into its shell. Suddenly she was tumbling into an empty void, a peaceful abyss that filled her with an almost unbearable loneliness.

She recoiled, pulling her physical body back to quickly. The rapid exit of her other body seemed to form a spiritual vacuums: a sucking pressure pulling at her eyes. She rocked back on her heels, frozen; her physical eyes slow to refocus. As if from a long distance, she sensed her fingers touching the edge of the table�there was an unpleasant sense of falling forward again, back into the void; and only her contact with the table keep her from loosing her balance and pitching backwards.

A deep breath calmed her. At last she managed to closed her inner eye. Then she opened her eyes and looked at Sharmain.

The woman was staring at her fearfully. �I felt you,� she said. �I felt you inside me!�

Serria smiled, but despite her effort it was a sad smile; and it was not a comfort to Sharmain. Without a word Serria helped her back into her tunic, then took her hand, and lead her back into the library.

�Well,� Delin said as they stepped through the door.

�The child is not yours,� she said.

Delin held his breath. �It�s Mordian?�

�Yes! The child is male and his phylo, is pure Mordian.�

�But you...� Sharmain looked at her without comprehension. �The way you looked at me, I thought for sure...�

Serria smiled reassuringly, then quickly looked away. Delin wasn�t paying any attention to them. �Thank you!� he said, voicing his prayer of thanks. After a moment he opened his eyes and nodded stiffly to Tereesan. �How much do I owe you?�

Tereesan shrugged. �Other readers charge about fifty trates,� he said with a generous smile. �But I will leave the price up to you, to pay as you are able.�

Delin scowled, but counted out one hundred and fifty trates and slapped them into the healers hand with a grimace. �If you ever tell anyone about this...� he left the threat hanging.

�Your business is appreciated,� Tereesan said with a sweet smile. �And perhaps you will recommend us if you ever have a friend with a similar problem.�

Delin nodded slowly. �Of course. As long as we understand one another.�

Tereesan glanced at Savyn, who had suddenly appeared at the doorway. �Would you escort Delin and his friend to the door, Savyn?� He turned back to the Comilaun warrior. �I look forward to seeing you again Delin Mornigan.�

The warrior�s eyes darkened menacingly. �Don�t toy with me healer.� He spat the word healer, so that it became an insult; an accusation that he let a woman do his work.

Tereesan shrugged. �I suppose it�s always possible that our paths will never cross again.�

4

When Savyn had lead the warrior from the room, Tereesan allowed himself to chuckle. He enjoyed bantering with men like Delin. Next to Serria and his gardens, it was one of his greatest pleasures in life. �What do you think? Is he anything more than he clams.�

�No, nothing more.�

�I�m glad it worked out for her then. She seems like a nice girl.�

�Yes,� Serria said in a distant voice.

Tereesan looked at her closely. Something was troubling her but he didn�t question her about it. When she was ready she would tell him what it was. Until then he would wait. She went to the bar and fixed herself a drink. �Would you care for something?�

�I�ll wait for Savyn to make me some tea.�

After a moment, Savyn returned.

�I�ve decided!� Serria said, sitting down on the sofa with a smile. She looked at Savyn. �Would you bring us some tea, Savyn.�

Tereesan didn�t ask questions. It would be pointless to ask her questions until Savyn had returned with their tea. It took but a moment, and savyn returned with a pot of water. She had obviously had it boiling in anticipation. Filling his cup, she offered him the spice she knew he liked, then poured herself a cup, and took a seat on the sofa to listen.

�Our next target will be Damian Hormilio,� Serria said.

The healer sipped his tea. �I don�t like making another move so soon!� he said, reluctant to say more. He looked at Savyn hoping for her support but she drank her tea without comment or reaction.

�We won�t move for several months,� Serria said. �We�ll have plenty of time to plan our strategy, and make sure everything is ready.�

Anxiously the Healer leaned across the table, and took Serria�s hand. �Serria,� he said. �You are to ambitious. We must slow down; move more cautiously. Already we�ve begun to suspect strangers of being spies and assassins. If we keep pushing the council too hard, they will soon be real.�

�Perhaps you are right,� Serria said without concern. �But I think it is time to chose more dangerous prey.�

�This Damian is a clever and powerful man.�

�Yes. That�s why he�s the cornerstone of our opposition. When he falls, it will weaken several of the others, and strengthen our own position. Why do you think I want him?�

�But he has a well known history of political involvement that has never wavered. How will he explain the changes in his behavior if we succeed.�

�He wont explain anything!� She smiled sweetly. �In fact, I�ve yet to find a suitable replacement for him.�

�Are you suggesting we kill him?� Tereesan was astonished.

�Not murder,� Serria said. �He will be given a new host body. I have a young girl in mind. His own will be preserved in case we need to use him. It would be a relatively simple thing to transfer someone into his body from time to time.�

Tereesan drew in a quick breath. He knew the soul spells where not extremely complex, but they were never simple things. They drained Serria�s energy and left her weak, sometimes for several days after a transfer.

�Would you be willing to wear his body when there is a need?�

�Me!� Tereesan was appalled.

Serria only watched him; and after a moment he looked down, unable to meet her eyes.

�Yes,� he said at last. �You know I�ll do it if it comes to that. But what about the rest of the time. I don�t like the idea of having his body lying around the house?�

�It is a risk,� she agreed. �But having him will come in handy in the near future. He holds five shares in council and has the unquestioning support of about fifteen more, not to mention lesser support from a number of the lesser council members... Eventually we may find the right person to play his role permanently; but for now we will use him as it suits us.�

�We risk to much!�

�With great risks come great gains. And this time I think it�s better to take one great bite, than many smaller ones. If we succeed, the blow will be swift and decisive. Especially if someone loyal can be found to play Damian�s role. If we can do that, we will be to strong for anyone in Essoria to stand against us for long.�

�Or to weak for any further actions if it does not...� Tereesan said, but he sensed the futility of his present line of argument, so he changed the subject. �What of his host, then? What of the girl after you�ve taken her body. If she isn�t to become Damian, then what will become of her.�

Serria smiled. �Sharmain will solve that problem. Soon she will deliver, and when she does her baby will die...�

�You wouldn�t,� Tereesan said.

�I won�t do anything,� Serria snapped. �The baby�s body is healthy and grows normally; but when I scanned the mother�s womb I could not find a life spark. The body grows because it is inside her. It has no life of its own, and will likely die within a few days after it is born.�

�If you knew that, why didn�t you say something?�

�I don�t wish to be blamed for putting a curse on the woman! Besides, I didn�t see any point in torturing her before it was unavoidable�I doubt it would make her love the child any less.�

�But they won�t come to us to deliver the baby.�

�No,� she admitted. �That will take constant effort on my part to monitor her and anticipate the birth.�

�You�ll be to exhausted to preserve the infant�s body.�

�Without a life force, its birth should be very regular. It will only require minimal monitoring until the last, and by then I�ll have developed a link that will ease the burden. I�m sure the father will ask Delin Mornigan to dispose of the body, and with the right inducements, I think he would be willing to give it to us. I will preserve the infant�s body that afternoon. Then, after the girl has been transferred to the infant�s body, Damian will be transferred to the girl�s body.�

Tereesan sighed. �When you transfer a soul to a new body,� he said. �a greater part of that person is lost than just their old flesh... they mix freely with the new body and are altered by it in strange and unpredictable ways.  Who really knows how much of a person comes from the soul and how much comes from their body. But we do know that many things seem to come from the body: their accent, the way they walk... There must be any number of other things. An infant wont have any of them yet. How much will this poor girl lose taking the body of an infant?�

�I don�t know, Tereesan. There are no records of anyone using an infant as a host body,� Serria shrugged gravely. �How can I know for sure what will happen; what such an infant will be like. But a baby when it is born starts with even less, at that point, the soul as well as the body is a clean slate. In this case, given a new body and a developed mind, she may retain more of the guest bodies mannerisms. Or, it�s possible that an infant brain may not have the ability to contain adult memories. It�s possible the child may grow up not remembering any more than any other child.

�However, I think it�s safe to assume that although the infant may be able to understand us, he will not be able to speak for quite a while�until he learns how to move his mouth. His tongue muscles simply will not know how to make the sounds. In the same way he will have to relearn to walk. It may even be necessary for him to relearn how to hear. I have no way of knowing for sure.�

�And this girl,� Tereesan asked. �Is she willing to risk such a thing?�

�I have not spoken to her about becoming an infant. But I am confident that she will agree. The prospect of becoming a male will be enticing I�m sure; and for her age, she has a firm vision of the goals of Leskral. Whether the child remembers her past life completely or not, I suspect her present attitude will affect the sort of man she will become.�

�Then you�ve decided?�

�Yes, my love.�

Tereesan sighed. �Do you have a plan yet?�

�I have a plan,� Serria said. �The first step will be to write Damian an invitation, but that wont be for some time. For now I have to establish a link between Sharmain and myself.�

�Delin�s Mordian woman?�

�Yes,� Serria said with a smile. �Without the infant the plan won�t work.�

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