Tag: Surrender Love

In a world where the boundaries of reality blur and the depths of emotion intertwine, Izzorah must face an unexpected fear. An aviary built for dragons surrounds him, a vast expanse that evokes both wonder and trepidation. At the side of Pietas, the familiar slips away. For Izzorah, the dizzying heights represent more than physical elevation; they reveal internal struggles. The interplay of strength and fragility blossoms within this pivotal theme.

Fading Boundaries

The idea of being so close to a drop-off inside the aviary set Izzorah's head spinning. "Um... Could we get out of here, please?"

"Good idea." Pietas touched Izzorah's arm.

The impact of suddenly being somewhere else with no transition jarred the mind.

"Did we just...portal?" The act itself had no feeling. "Where are we? Is this..." A sandy floor crunched beneath his feet. Hot sun beat down on him. "Are we outside?"

"It's the bottom of the aviary." Pietas pointed upward. "See that dark slash up there?"

Izzorah hazarded a peek. He swallowed. "Yeah."

"That's where we were."

Though the wall was black, the darker slash showed in the bright light. Izzorah went straight to the base of the wall, leaned back and slid down to the floor.

Pietas stooped before him. "What 's wrong?"

"Being up high or looking up..." He was revealing a weakness. Something Luc told him never to do around Pietas. "Made me dizzy for a minute."

"Fear of heights is one thing. You fear falling. Trust me, I understand that. I fell from up there not long ago."

"And you're not dead?"

"Actually, I was. Broke my hip. Fractured a leg and shattered an arm. I landed on my hip, but my elbow smashed into the ground first and tore my rotator cuff and labrum. I only remember my foot slipping and trying to grab for a handhold. Not something I ever want to do again." Pietas pushed himself up but seemed to lose his balance.

Izzorah leaped up and steadied him. "Sorry." He released him and stepped back. "I shouldn't have touched you."

Pietas gave him an odd look. "You don't have to apologize for helping me. I appreciate it." He flipped back his hair. "You'd think after millennia of knowing I can't stoop down like that without falling over I'd remember not to do it."

"You can't?"

"Technically, I can get down, but I can't get back up." Pietas brushed at his clothing. "You're not the only one who has a weakness. Although, truthfully, only a handful of people know about mine. Nanchonta. Cyken. Joss." He groaned. "Joss! Uurah told me she wanted to come in and I forgot." He tapped his bracelet. "Joss? Where are you?"

"Look up."

Pietas took a few steps outward, tilted his head back, and waved.

Izzorah knew better than to do the same motion. He'd like to keep his stomach in one piece, thank you.

"Back in a sec." Pietas portaled out of sight. Within seconds, he'd returned with a woman almost as tall as he was, even taller than Luc. She looked no older than twenty. Where Pietas had straight silver hair almost to his waist, she had golden waves to the shoulder. Something about this woman made you see her strength before her beauty, and recognize her power before you realized her friendliness.

The Felis word tzesar had been invented for women like her. It meant queen.

This was the woman Luc had fretted over him meeting. A telepath from whom no one could hide a single thought.

In a world brimming with psychic abilities and hidden truths, Izzorah faces a telepath he must trust to unlock the mysteries of their intertwined fates. Joss Avaton's gaze pierces through the barriers he’s constructed. Does he dare trust her with the depth of his longing?

Can He Trust Her?

This was the woman Luc had fretted over him meeting. A telepath from whom no one could hide a single thought.

So Izzorah wouldn't try. He'd let her in. Let her see how much they needed their freedom, and depend on her to help them gain it.

"You must be Izzorah." She offered her hand. "I'm Joss Avaton."

He shook with her, and she clasped his hand in both of hers. Like Nanchonta, she had a way of looking right into his eyes. Not at him, but into him.

She tilted her head. "Say something."

"Like what? You mean hello?"

"How odd." Joss released his hand and walked all the way around him. "I can tell he's a strong Charmer, because I felt it, but I read no other gifts."

"Read?" Izzorah stuffed both hands in his pockets.

Pietas smiled at her as if she were the sun rising after darkness. "Joss is a Scripter. She can read the Gifts of others and tell what psychic abilities they have, and see the future."

"Sometimes. Less than a prophecy," she commented, still circling Izzorah. "More than a likelihood. I knew Pietas would be a king the moment I touched him. I didn't know how long or why." She returned to the king's side and took his arm.

"Joss is telepathic as well. No one has ever been able to block her."

"Izzorah," she said. "What am I thinking?"

"Well... your scent tells me you're puzzled. You're... Um, do you want me to go through the whole thing?" Luc had said part of the test would be discovering his Gifts. Everyone had at least one. Most had more. "Everything I can tell about you?"

Joss cast a glance at Pietas and smiled. "I would love it."

"So would I." Pietas motioned to him. "Go ahead."

"Okay. You're surprised because something doesn't fit or there's a missing piece." He took a small sniff. "There's this smell of chalk, like they used at that clinic Luc is helping us build. You know, to mark things on walls or the ground?"

"Chalk?" She slipped her hand under Pietas's, the opposite way that Teyhahss had. "What does that indicate?"

"It's more than surprise. That's what I thought I was picking up at first, but it's not. It's more like... what is the Etymis word? Astonish, I think?"

"That would fit." She motioned to him. "Is there more?"

"You want all of it?"

"Definitely." She pressed her upper arm against Pietas's, and he smiled over at her. From his scent, he hated this woman; but by outside appearances, he worshipped her.

Interesting.

"You have strong feelings of love for Pietas, and..." At her startled expression, he stopped.

"It's okay." She nestled against Pietas like a lover. "You're not telling him anything he doesn't already know."

"True," Pietas agreed. "Go on."

"There's a scent of mint, and it's crisp, mixed with a tart smell and there's a bit of moss and freshly-dug soil."

"Which means?" Pietas prompted.

"You two have a long, complicated relationship that's gone from friends to lovers, and somehow enemies but not enemies, and there's fear but also gratitude." He stopped. "Wow. If everyone is this complex, I'll need a break just from saying hello."

Pietas shared a smile with Joss. "Our relationship is more complicated than most."

"Is there more?" Joss raised one eyebrow.

"Well, I... didn't want to say."

"No, please do." She hugged Pietas's arm.

"I get cinnamon, oranges, a little vanilla, some staleness... like old bread. Sort of like bread pudding with orange sauce. That's contentment and confusion mixed with confidence, but behind it is... I can't think of the human word. We say demageer."

"Truly?" Pietas patted her arm where she held his. "That means dismay. Are you dismayed, my love? Why?"

Joss lowered her head, but then looked back up at him, smiling. "I've seen your future."