Moonlight filled the glen, casting dappled light into the forest's deep shadows. Arial knew she would miss this place. It was her solitary retreat; a refuge she could come to and shut out her lessons and training. Few of the villagers came this far into the woods.

Stretching her backbone, she concentrated on each vertebra as she straightened then arched her spine. She turned her face to the moon, her delicate gauze dress almost transparent in the night-glow. Breathing deeply, she drew her hands together, palms pressed firmly against each other, then pushed them forward slowly as she let out her breath. She repeated this until she felt the calming. It had taken her many years to learn the intricate movements of the slow and beautiful A'Shar dor'le. The motions were now more than exercises or movements to be performed; they were a part of her, as natural as breathing. Effortlessly, she let her mind and body go, giving in to the familiar flow and was one with the soft evening breeze. Her movements were without thought as she gave up her trust, her life to the gods. She floated, and soared, then rested.

She came immediately alert, sensing someone's approach. Though she was among friends, the vestiges of her early childhood trauma never left her. Reaching for her staff, she turned it over in her hands, balancing it perfectly. She was prepared.

Ernheart stepped into the glade and she dropped her staff and pose. He did not wear his usual robes and cape, but instead was dressed all in black: a doublet over a shirt, trousers, and knee high boots. The only thing to break the ebony singularity was his medallion of glistening silver with its fiery opal. His close-trimmed beard and dark brown hair, worn loose for once, framed his face. His garb and demeanor made him look more at ease, yet wilder. This was not the staid and sober Master she had known these past years. This was not the Master, but the man.

He approached her slowly, each movement as sleek and graceful as a panther. She caught his scent on the air, a heady mixture of musk and earthiness. Her heart rate quickened. She knew she should look away, but his presence was too compelling. She hoped the moonlight hid the blush she knew was rising to her cheeks. His eyes sparkled, like two sapphires, deep and clear.

"You love this place," he said, his soft, breathy, baritone voice reverberating through the glen.

"It has brought me many contented hours." Forcing her gaze from his, she glanced around the clearing, knowing every rock and shrub as if they were lifelong friends. Wrapping her arms around herself, she shivered in the warmth of his closeness.

"I don't know if I have ever seen the moon so clearly," Arial said in a voice barely above a whisper.

"I wonder if I have ever seen things so clearly," Ernheart said. He was so close, so near, she could feel his whispered words.

She wondered if he knew, if he had any idea of what he meant to her. He was more than mentor, more than teacher, he was ... She could not put a name to it. He would never be hers, and therefore she could not name him. To do so would be to call him to her, to cross a threshold she would never be able to retreat from. Long ago she had come to accept it, to accept all. Her love would always be conditional, always a partial love, for it would never be returned. Even if he were to speak the words, they would be hollow, void of the truth and conviction of an A'Shar. Her heart ached. The thing that separated her from him was the thing she admired most.

"You leave my care, tomorrow, Arial," Ernheart said, moving to stand behind her. "I have brought you this."

Arial looked to her right. On his extended palm rested a small velvet pouch. "Take it," he urged.

With hands that trembled, she accepted it, then gently released the drawstring. She emptied the contents of the pouch onto her palm. The medallion and neck chain pulsed like liquid gold in the moon's gentle radiance. The ruby at the center of the medallion shone with an internal fire. Etched around the edge were ancient A'Shar ruins. Her eyes clouded and she asked him to read them for her.

"It is in the ancient tongue. T'ruleth varn esh de medorn. 'The greatest truth is love.'" He reached around her and took the medallion. While she lifted her waist length hair he draped the chain around her neck, fastening the intricate clasp at her nape.

She looked down at the medallion. It rested above her heart, light as a whisper, yet weighty in its beauty. The tal'asar was the gift an A'Shar Master gave to his pupil. "Thank you, Ernheart." She did not call him Master. "It is beautiful."

"As you are," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders, gently massaging them as he had done so many times after the rigors of her training. "You will do well, Arial. You will be a true A'Shar tomorrow. Your talents are remarkable enough to have caused the Council in The Haven to call you to them. Your talents need more than I can provide. You have intelligence, beauty of the soul, and a true heart. The gods smiled on this village the day they brought you to us."

Arial fought her warring urges. She felt the tears well in her eyes. "Stop it," she whispered in a voice that cracked.

"What?" he asked.

"You know."

He stopped his massaging, but did not remove his hands. The heat of his touch burned at the skin beneath the delicate gauze. A warning voice urged caution, but she reached up and grabbed one of his hands and turned to face him. He was barely a foot away, his presence even more palpable. She stared up at him. The moonlight played off the lines and angles of his face. Her heart leapt at his strength and power. Deeper within her, a stronger longing responded.

If she were ever to speak, it must be now. Tonight, standing together in her private haven, he had come to her world.

"You must know," she said, praying he would spare her this pain.

"Of what do you speak, Arial?"

She place her hand against his chest, resting it on his medallion. With her other hand she grasped her own medallion. A surge of white power flowed between them. Ernheart raised an eyebrow.

Arial felt the pressure building within her. She knew that if she did not speak, this moment would haunt her life. Consequences be damned, she spoke. "I love you, Ernheart."

He did not reply, but did not move away.

"It is not that you have been my mentor, my teacher for these last years. I have learned so much from you. Without you I would be wandering the wastes, not knowing that I had a destiny awaiting me. You have given me that. It is not of that love that I speak. But you have also..." she paused, searching for the right words. "Ernheart, you are the most caring and giving person I know. You have great knowledge, and share that with all who come to you. You are strong, yet you abhor violence. You see things in me that no one else has ever seen."

"Arial, it is just..." he began to say, but she placed a hand on his lips.

"Please, don't," she said. "Don't tell me that what I feel is a young woman's fantasy. You know me too well." She moved her fingers from his lips, and touched the tips to her own lips. They tasted of him. "There has been a bond between us since the day you accepted me as an apprentice. You took me to the training rings and as we walked you placed your hand on my back. I felt, what I now know is, a f'trein, the recognition of a kindred spirit. Yet it goes beyond that. Even the Treaties say love is something that is felt, not rationalized. One does not choose who one has this bond with. 'Fate takes a hand in all things.'" She repeated to him a phrase he had used so often in her training.

He remained silent. She felt suddenly foolish, unable to think. This was not a time for words. She lifted her hand, and held it out, palm toward him. She gazed into his eyes. At first she felt resistance, then an easing, then it was there... and it shocked her. Even the recognition of her power showed on his face. She pulled back and turned away.

"What...?" she questioned, staring down at her hand.

"You are far more powerful than even Lyddea had thought. This is why you must go to the Council," he said. She thought she heard a tinge of regret in his voice.

Emotions flooded her, not only her own, but her Master's. She felt them all, knew them all. When she touched the place where he hid his feelings for her, she stopped. Love, concern, anger, disappointment, joy, pride, longing. They wove a tangle too intricate to be unbound.

Ernheart came to stand behind her, she felt his hands upon her shoulders once again. She tilted her head to rest it on his hand. "The Council needs you. Lyddea has said that you are a true gift to the A'Shar. I have taught you what I can, others must help you find your way from here." He paused. "I will miss you."

Arial turned, and hugged him. He returned the embrace, holding her close. She willed herself not to cry. She wanted to revel in this, a moment out of time. One to be shared by just the two of them.

Amulets pressed against each other, pulsating, almost as if they too shared a bond.

She drank in everything of the moment and imprinted them within her mind. She knew this was a special gift, whether from the gods or Ernheart, she did not know, she did not care.

She pulled back and gazed into his eyes. Neither one released the embrace. She moved to him, reacting without thought, but caught herself short just as her lips touched his. She did not move, neither did he. Feeling his lips sent a warm glow coursing through her being.

He moved his lips across hers, stoking her lower lip, teasing her upper lip with his mustache. Barely touching, yet totally consuming. She dared to deepen the kiss, he answered in kind. She gave, he took. She gave more, he took more. She backed off, he drew her closer, increasing the kiss. Passion consumed her and was echoed by his fervor. She ran her hands through his hair, holding on to the nape of his neck. In response he cupped a hand around her face, gently caressing the soft flesh of her neck. She took from him, took memories of feelings, longings, desires that would keep her through the years ahead. She opened to him, gave herself, totally surrendering to the kiss. Every fiber in her being came alive.

Deep within her throat she keened, the longing now demanding to be made verbal. She pulled back, but he did not release her, and she met his ardor. Within her body a long dormant need screamed, demanded.

No. Her mind fought for awareness. No. He was not hers. She would not and could not ask this of him. Nor would she take it from him.

She broke the contact, both physical and mental.

"Go," she pleaded, not daring to look at him. She stared at the patch of earth that lay between them. It might as well have been a continent.

"Arial..." he said, his voice deep and husky.

"Please, don't say anything. I don't think I could take it. Not unless you were to tell me..." She could not say it. He never would say it.

Pausing, Ernheart waited, then turned and strode out of the clearing. She glanced up just in time to see his dark shadow disappear into the even darker woods.

Arial collapsed, and let the tears come. She gave herself this moment for the pain, anger, envy, despair, heartache, and lose. No words could accurately express what had happened. She knew in her heart the truth.

To be continued . . .