Date: Sat, 26 Feb 2011 19:14:32 +0000
From: mandijerri@gmail.com
Subject: The Gift of the Second Prime Chapter Four: The Gifting

So, here it is!

This Chapter has been the hardest of the four to write so far, I hope you
like it! Let me know if you do or don't! Many thanks this time to James. I
got stuck at one stage and he showed me the way forward. Thank you.

There's more sex in this one, as you would expect with Gifts meeting their
Warriors. Some new themes are introduced as well, so let me know what you
think of those.

Chapter Five will take a little while, I'm afraid. Have work to do next
week so will only be able to write in the evenings. I'll aim for next
weekend for this chapter. Sorry.

In the meantime, talk to me. Let me know what you like or don;t like. What
you would like to see happen etc. etc.


The Gifting

The Gift of the Sidian Deserts sighed and looked over to his Warrior asleep
on their shared bed. He had taken nectar only half an hour ago and would
sleep now until the morning. For his Gift, however, the night would not be
that restful.

It had been one of the first Gifts created, and back then, the Gifts were
just that, gifts to the Warriors who had served the Warrior General Ghen
well. Creatures created from science and magic to serve their Warriors,
make them strong.

Uphold the authority of the Second Realm.

Of course the Professor had always known the true power of the Gifts, he
had designed them after all, but even he would not allow them to reach
their full potential while the Warrior General still lived. Such was the
authority of the man that even the Professor would not, could not, defy
him.

The Warrior General had never been gifted, and that had always surprised
Sidian Deserts. The man had been a powerhouse of energy and tactics. His
brain was beyond comprehension most of the time. He could see what the
Gifts brought to their Warriors and must have wanted that for himself - yet
he remained outside this system of patronage that he had designed and now
reigned over.

The Second Realm, the single-handed creation of the Warrior General, still
stood today, over four hundred years later. A testament to the beliefs and
strength of the Warrior General. But it was old now. The society Ghen had
sought to create had grown and evolved and was now bigger than its original
constructs. Like a bier supporting a coffin, the traditions of the Second
Realm were smaller than the society they sought to contain.

To control.

A new energy was needed. A new Warrior General.

And that was the dilemma. Balance was at the heart of the Second Realm,
balance embodied in the twin palaces at the centre of Troubian. For there
to be a new Warrior General, that balance would have to be destroyed. Both
palaces would have to be swept aside in a new revolution.

There were many Gifts, and the Sidian Deserts was forefront among them, who
believed that the Second Realm could be saved but that at its heart it
would have to be three, not two. That the Second Prime would have to hold
sway over the Second Realm. This had led to the gifting of three young
men. Young men who could grow into the authority of the Second Realm.

But now, now that the plan was almost realised, the Sidian Deserts was not
sure of its aims. Not certain anymore that any of them had read the
situation correctly. At its heart, the Second Prime revolved around a
scholar, a rebel and a talented warrior. Could these three and their
Warriors lead the revolution?

The Sidian Deserts was not sure anymore.

There was another group among the Gifts who believed that a new Warrior
General should be found. A single Warrior who was as charismatic as the
Warrior General Ghen, but who could be led and moulded by the Gifts. A new
Warrior General could certainly galvanise the hearts and minds of the
people, but would he rule knowing that he was just a puppet for the Gifts?

No. No Warrior would or could.

They were the law, and they believed this implicitly.

And the Gifts were not exactly united over this. Just as the Clans played
games of politics one with another in the Palace of Sunrises, so the Gifts
also played these games of brinkmanship one with another. The Gifts were
powerful, was it perhaps time to separate them from the Warriors? To have
them stand alone in the glare of the sun?  No. The Warriors, the two
palaces, the whole system of Gifting, it was worth too much to be destroyed
by ego and tyranny.

A paragraph from the Triple Condimium came back to it now as it sat and
pondered the future of Tare du Maretch:

Everything casts shadows; things that are great and wondrous to behold cast
shadows of despair and decrepitude - while things that are dull and tainted
cast shadows of former might or future glory.

The creation of the Second Realm had cast long shadows indeed.

The creation of the Second Prime, whatever form it ultimately took, would
cast even longer shadows. It would reach across the galaxy. It would touch
into the heart of humanity, even the One World would be consumed by its
glory and its fury.

But it had to be balanced.

If it was to reclaim that which humanity had lost, it had to be balanced.

A Warrior General alone was not balanced.

Three Gifts contained their own balance within them. One would always
balance the excesses of the other two, but, like fate, they also stood
alone. They were Gifts. And what in this galaxy could balance a Gift?

The revolution that humanity so desperately needed, it had to be
popular. If history said anything, it said that the people themselves had
to believe in the revolution - had to lead it, even ask for it to
happen. How could the Gifts make people like those living in the town
outside this palace, believe the need for revolution?

Tare du Maretch might sell its mineral wealth to the rest of humanity, but
the customers never came to the planet, never even came near the
system. This society was isolated in the galaxy, both physically and
spiritually. A revolution started here could be lost in the great rift that
surrounded the system before it had a chance to spread into the spiral arms
on either side of the rift.

But it had to start somewhere and at some time.

And fate had given to this planet the Gifts. And the Gifts were the
ultimate humans. The pinnacle of human-controlled evolution. But there had
to be a balance. A Gift alone would destroy the future. The Professor
realised that and balanced them with the Warriors. The Gifts realised that,
but if they were to move beyond this planet, would the Warriors alone be
enough to balance their voracious ambition?

And balance is such a delicate state, and for it to remain in balance there
needs to be a fulcrum. The fulcrum upon which the fifth prime is balanced
is fate. Fate had spurred the Warrior General Ghen and his companions to
forge the Second Realm in the first place. But even fate cannot balance a
civilisation forever.

People have to do that.

Human people; in whatever form their humanity may take.

The shadow cast by one man, it can be longer than the shadow cast by a
mountain. And its shade can stretch forward into the future as much as it
can cover the ground with its darkness.

So what length the shadow of the Second Prime? Gift, Warrior and Human? How
long would that reach, and how far into the future would it stretch?

The decision trees threatened to overwhelm the Gift of the Sidian Deserts
again, and from the bed its Warrior, Graescin, called for his Gift in his
sleep. The Gift smiled at the sleeping form of his love, then rose and went
to him.

There would always be time to plan the revolution tomorrow.

****

"They are here now?" The Gift of the Lost Clan asked.

"Don't tell me you can't note them!" The Gift of the Lost Boy
laughed. "Their musk is vital, lom!"

"I had not... oh, yes!" Lost Clan laughed, lowering its head. "I smell them
now." And then it blushed.

 "You are so sweet!" Lost Boy smiled. "What do you think, maybe we should
dance for them, or something?"

"You can dance?" Lost Clan asked.

"My hips have been known to do a little more than just swivel a beautiful
sketch, I'll have you note."

"Maybe we should just go over and talk to them?"

"And maybe the Prof-man will give us to Troubian this moon!" Lost Boy
replied. "You know the protocol." He said quoting something the Gift of the
Lost Warrior told them constantly.

"I know the protocol."

There was a garden at the base of the Tower of Gifting. A large and shady
space that offered some seclusion to the new Gifts as they learned to live
with their new lives. As they discovered their potential. The garden was
surrounded on two sides, north and south, by wide cloisters that allowed
the inhabitants of the Palace of Sunset to move through the confines of the
great building without being troubled by the elements.

The Cloisters were open to the garden, a series of arched windows allowed
the light, sights and scents from the garden into the cloisters. The north
cloister, known as the Gift Cloister, led from the East entrance of the
palace past the Shombruh du Garree-ay to the College and the dormitories in
the north of the Palace. There was always a stream of Warriors and
warrior-stujair along this corridor.

Always a group of young warriors would gather at one of the high windows,
straining to see down into the Garden of Gifting. Hoping to catch site of a
Gift. There was a group there now, three of these young warriors in
training, silently staring down into the garden. Seeing, but not seeing,
the two Gifts sat there screened by trees and a row of fountains.

"He is there." Lost Clan said after a moment.

"You can check him away from the others?" Lost Boy laughed. "You are better
than me! All I check is hot warrior musk!"

"You always reduce everything to sex!"

"There is anything else for it to be reduced to?" Lost Boy asked. "I bet
your man-mountain out there is only thinking with his quill at the moment!
Reckon it would be pretty much standing to attention as well. Why don't you
wander over there, see what happens?"

Its laugh wrapped around them both.

"If their presence offends so much you could always retire to the tower..."
Lost Clan smiled.

"I am growing used to it." Lost Boy replied.

"I bet you are! Look at you, you are like a Tronc in heat!"

"And you're not? 'He is there.'" Lost Boy said, mimicking its friend. "Tell
me you are not going to fantasise about being gifted to him tonight!"

"Jax chance of doing anything else at night around here, is there?"

"Truthsaying." Lost Boy agreed. "Oh, they are going."

It stood and wandered across the garden to the cloister where the warriors
had been standing. Their scent was still strong, but the corridor on the
other side of the high wall was empty now. He could hear them running off
through the cloister, laughing and shouting to each other, running back to
the college or their rooms.

"Sometimes I feel like this place is nothing more than a golden box." It
sighed as it turned and made its way back across the garden. "And when we
are gifted, we swap all this..." It said spinning and holding out its long
slender arms to encompass the whole palace. "For just another prison."

"You need to take something for your melancholy." Lost Clan smiled, putting
its reader down and standing to stretch its legs.

"You giving up on reading at me then?" Lost Boy asked as it bent down to
pick up the reader and hand it back to the Lost Clan.

"Even I can grow weary of this place." Lost Boy sighed, staring up into the
blue sky above them.

"Yeah. We need to be away lom! Think we can turn the Prof-man?"

"Doubt it."

"But he keeps singing how special we are!" Lost Boy complained. "If we are
that special he can make something happen for us. I'd love to skip you
through this city, lom! You would be stomped!"

 "And it would be nice to see something that wasn't the Palace." Lost Clan
agreed.

"But until then." Lost Boy sighed. "Until then let's go and find the Lost
Warrior. Maybe it has an exercise that'll give us smiles again!"

"You think?" Lost Boy said. "My muscles are still aching from this morning!
Do we have to do more?"

"Think of it as preparing yourself for your blonde beauty." Lost Boy
laughed as it ran across the garden and into the Tower before the Gift of
the Lost Clan could catch it.

****

"Ah, there you are." The professor laughed as he wandered out onto the
parapet at the top of the Tower of Gifting. "You seem lost today, is
something troubling you?"

"I need something to do." The Gift of the Lost Warrior smiled, turning and
leaning against the guard rail. "I need a challenge."

"But it's a rest day." The professor reminded it, coming up to the parapet
and leaning over the railing, looking down into the Silver March.

"You forget." Lost Warrior smiled, turning and also looking down into the
Silver March. "I trained all my life to compete in that arena. The last six
months have been strenuous, but not nearly as strenuous as my training. My
mind works best when my body is challenged."

"Hah!" The professor laughed. "You are an interesting one, you know?" He
smiled. "I can see why the others were desperate to get you Gifted. You are
still a warrior, despite what your body portrays now. Just one look at you
says that. I bet you could still compete down there and win."

"It would no longer be a fair competition, though. This body, it can do
much more than any warrior-stujair."

"Indeed it can. And through you, your own Warrior will be able to do more."

"But what about me?"

"I don't understand." The Professor said.

"Before I came here, to this tower, there was so much talk about the change
I could bring to the Second Realm, to Tare du Maretch. But all I see at the
moment is learning and study. I want to be involved!"

"You must learn to curb your impetuousness, my friend." The Professor
smiled. "Your life stretches away in front of you. You will live beyond the
lives of at least three, maybe four warriors. Time is your friend now, not
your enemy. And with all that time you have more time to be involved."

"But the problems in our culture are here now." Lost Warrior
said. "Troubled Waters told me that we had maybe a millennium. If I wait
any longer to act there will barely be enough time to plan what needs to be
done, let enough see it through!"

"Patience!" The Professor laughed. "You are still a Gift, have still to be
gifted. Pass through that first, then let your Warrior have some time to
get used to being a Warrior, to being with you. Then you can change the
galaxy."

"Two weeks!" Lost Warrior sighed. "It may as well be two years!"

"There is such a palpable aura of violence around you when you become
angry!" The professor said. "I find it very fascinating."

"Sorry." The Gift smiled. "I am frustrated, that is all!"

"You all are." The Professor said. "Your two companions are racing up the
stairs to this platform even as we speak. You have too much energy, you
three!"

"Then give us something to do! Let us out of the Palace for a while!"

"I don't think that would be possible."

"Why?" The Gift asked. "This is Troubian. Other Gifts leave the
Palace. They may not walk in public, but they do get out. We need a break
from the routine, professor."

"It would be difficult to arrange." The Professor mused. "But it could be
done, I suppose."

"Look into it." The Gift pleaded. "We are all so tense at the moment, I
fear we might actually start hating each other at times so loud are our
disagreements!"

"And that is the source of your frustration." The professor noted. "You
have all come into your sexual maturity in the last few days. I have never
seen it manifested so strong as I have with you three."

"Well you've built it up into such a big thing!"

"And it is. Let me talk to Troubled Waters, jen? And in the meantime try
and keep away from the arguments."

"Jen." The Gift laughed just as his two friends burst out onto the
platform.

"Stop!" The Gift of the Lost Clan laughed. "My breathe is dead!"

"I thought you were fitter than that!" The Gift of the Lost Boy laughed,
dragging his friend over to the Professor and the Gift of the Lost
Warrior. "Entertain us!" It added, smiling at the Professor.

"Funnily enough we were just talking about that." The professor smiled. "I
will speak with you all later."

He bowed and made his way off the parapet.

****

"Jax!" The Gift of the Lost Clan said as it looked out of the window of the
drone.

"What's wrong?" The Gift of the Lost Boy asked.

"Yes." The Lost Warrior agreed, looking through the window itself to see
what had startled the Lost Clan. "It is not like you to swear!"

"I can't get out here." Lost Clan said. "I'm sorry. If I'd known the
Professor had arranged for us to come here I would have stayed at the
Tower!"

The Lost Clan was physically shaking now, with fear as well as what
appeared to be anger.

"But..." The Gift of the Lost Boy began.

"I can't go there!" The Gift of the Lost Clan screamed, into their ears as
well as their heads.

And with the words came jumbled images.

A cage with a Gift inside.

Two men sat at a table in bright sunshine drinking.

The Warrior Graescin in full battle mode.

A village in flames.

An endless journey through a forest of tuyeau.

A dark room where there was blood, lots and lots of blood.

"Check, lom!" Lost Boy said, falling back into a chair. "That was rich!"

Lost Warrior came over and put its arms around Lost Clan.

"Do not worry."  It said. "We don't have to get out here. We can return, go
somewhere else."

"No." The Gift of the Lost Clan sighed, and there were tears in its
eyes. "That is not fair on you two. You have both been looking forward to
getting out of the Tower. I will cope."

"Lom!" Lost Boy said. "What happened to you in this place?"

"My Clan was destroyed here." The Gift of the Lost Clan said. "Not in this
palace, but by the authority of this place. Here my Uncle and my brother,
my father, were butchered under the command of the Warrior Graescin."

There was silence for a while between them.

"Hence your naming." Lost Warrior replied. "I begin to understand now. We
will return to the Tower. Do you know how to send the drone back, Lost
Boy?"

"I can work it." Lost Boy said, moving forward to the front of the
drone. "These things can't be that jigged."

"No." The Gift of the Lost Clan said standing up. "This is wrong. I have
reconciled myself with everything that happened here. Have spoken with the
Sidian Deserts since what happened here... happened. This is something I
really need to do. I need to close this."

"Are you sure?" The Gift of the Lost Warrior asked.

"I am sure."

"Then we go threes." Lost Boy said, taking one of the Lost Clan's arms and
indicating that the Lost Warrior should take the other. "We were made to be
three and we will stand as three. Yes?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

A tail flicked forward and punched a button next to the door. There was a
whirring from within the skin of the drone and the door before them opened
out and then to the left. It was night. the air was fresh with the scent of
rain and something else, something green. There was a forest of some
description nearby and its scent filled the air.

Earthy, pungent, sweet.

The drone had landed in a compound that stood to one side of a large
building. They could not make much of it out in the gloom, but, where there
were lights, it looked like a larger version of the grand houses found in
Anka Cotto back in Troubian. Two other drones waited on the soft ground
just across the way. The only way into the compound seemed to be through a
small building in the wall in front of them.

Another Gift, the Gift of the Sidian Deserts, ran across the damp ground
from this building.

"Welcome." It smiled, taking the Gift of the Lost Clan into an embrace and
then holding it as they stepped forward. "How do you feel?"

"Scared and more angry than I have ever been."

"Hate and anger are the opposites to joy and determination." Sidian Deserts
whispered.

"I will not play quotes with you this night." Lost Clan replied. "Take me
somewhere where I can be alone."

The Gift of the Sidian Deserts bowed its head and hurried them all through
the small building, then across an elegant courtyard to the large house. A
light drizzle filled the air around them, but it was not cold. If anything
the air was muggier as a result of the rain.

Along a plain plastered corridor, then into a grand foyer. The palace was
warm, and all of them were sweating by the time Sidian Deserts had brought
them to the second floor and a large double door that opened onto a suite
of rooms that filled the entire west wing of the palace on this floor.

This will be your suite while you stay here." The Gift told them. "We have
prepared you each a room."

He led the Gift of the Lost Clan down an elegant corridor and up to another
painted and gilt door.

"This is yours." It whispered.

"Thank you." The Gift of the Lost Clan said, pulling Sidian Deserts into a
hug. "Do not let anyone disturb me. For the rest of this night I just need
to remember."

"I understand."

"What happened here?" Lost Boy asked as Sidian Deserts led them further
down the corridor and into a large room at the end. A meal had been laid
out for them here and they sat on cushions around a low table and began to
eat the food.

"I saved a young boy from the folly of his Clan once." The Gift of the
Sidian Deserts said after a while. "His Uncle, the leader of a remote
farming clan on the other side of the Green Forest, stole me from my
Pahtron."

"What, as in abducted?" The Lost Boy asked.

"Yes." Sidian Deserts answered. "The Warrior Graescin was battling with
some local militia when the clansmen broke into our camp and stole me. I
was imprisoned in a cage in their main settlement."

"You could have escaped..." Lost Warrior began.

"Indeed I could have, but then I felt the boy. Such power! But such a
sadness about him. His mind was untrained, but even the small training he
had received marked him out as something special. I knew then I had to
remain a prisoner so I could save him from the wrath of my Pahtron."

"The Clan was destroyed?"

"Completely." The Gift of the Sidian Deserts answered. "Clansmen sold into
slavery or for their meat. The settlement razed to the ground."

"And the boy?" Lost Warrior asked. "He became the Gift of the Lost Clan,
yes?"

"Yes. But his was not an easy emergence. His Clan was destroyed, and my
Pahtron made him watch while his Uncle and father were butchered in the
kitchens of this palace."

"Harsh." The Gift of the Lost Boy sighed. "Makes my story seem justice!"

"He also had to watch my Warrior while he drank their blood and eat their
gonads..."

"Ah. That would explain his fear in the drone." Lost Warrior said. "Maybe
we should take it away from here? The memories could be too strong."

"But it will all have to be faced eventually." Sidian Deserts said.

There was silence as they eat the food. It was mostly vegetables with a
spiced-meat casserole in the centre of the table. A large bowl of Hadge
stood to one side of the casserole.  "This is good." Lost Boy said as it
finished a bowl of the casserole and settled back onto its cushions with a
glass of wine.

"It's a local dish." Sidian deserts explained. "They call it Vaistij. It's
made from the off cuts of meat, scraps that would be thrown to the Jidendry
were they not used in this dish. The mixture of spices and the way the dish
is dry-fried then cooked in the sauce is what makes it so special."

"What are these little bulb things?"

"The roots of the mature tuyeau." The Gift of the Sidian Desert
explained. "The forest plant that grows rampant in these parts. At the end
of summer they put out these little tubers on the end of their roots. They
are quite sweet and one of the staples in this province."

"And here was me thinking tuyeau was just a position in an archetype!" Lost
Warrior smiled. "Now I get to eat it."

"And tomorrow you will see it." Sidian Deserts promised. "The Green Forest
comes almost up to the palace walls in places."

"I smelt that when we stepped out of the drone." Lost Boy said.

"Yes." Sidian Deserts agreed. "It does have a distinct smell, especially
this time of year at the start of the rainy season."

They were quiet again as they relaxed in front of the fire that had been
laid for them in the large grate. The Lost Warrior finally asked,

"Where is your Pahtron?"

"Graescin?" Sidian Deserts asked. "He is away tonight. I will join with him
again tomorrow."

"I can't wait for that to happen, you jen?" Lost Boy said.

"What?"

"To have a Warrior, to need him as much as you did then when you spoke of
the Warrior Graescin. What's it like being gifted?"

"Hah!" Sidian Deserts laughed. "I have been gifted twice and both times it
was the most intensely emotional thing I have ever done. You will love so
much that your whole body hurts."

"Sounds scary." The Lost Warrior smiled.

"And it is, but it is also wonderful. The union is what we and the Warriors
have been created to achieve. And when you create the union you understand
what it really means."

"And the Warriors will be addicted to us?" Lost Boy asked.

"They will be addicted to your nectar, yes." Sidian Deserts said. "But the
union is more than an addiction."

"But I will control a Warrior." The Lost Boy sighed. "That is strict
power!"

"And you will also be controlled." Lost Warrior reminded it. "The
conventions of our society will ensure that you are controlled by the
Warrior as much as you control him."

"Maybe." Lost Boy mused. "But the other Gifts, they want us to shake this
place up. I'm thinking we could do that just by letting our Warrior-men
free. Show this space-rock the stink they can really raise!"

"Why would you want to do that?" The Sidian Deserts asked.

"Because the whole thing is stale. Too wrapped up in itself to serve its
people."

"But it works." The Lost Warrior noted. "Our culture has been stable for
almost four hundred and fifty years. Remember the chaos that reigned before
the Second Realm? Would you want that back?"

"History is always scribed by the Victor." Lost Boy said. "How do you know
there was chaos before the Second Realm? Maybe our whole society is built
on the crazy blood-lust of the Warrior General."

"He was an angry man." Sidian Deserts said. "I was originally gifted to the
General Scerael." It explained. "It was near to the end of the Warrior
General's life, but even then he was always angry."

"I didn't realise that you knew him!" The Lost Warrior said. "What was he
like?"

"Gifts were still a new concept back then." Sidian Deserts said. "The
Professor had only been living on Tare du Maretch for twenty or so years by
then..."

"Prof-man!" Lost Boy said. "You mean he is as old as you?"

"He is older than me." Sidian Deserts said. "Older than anyone on this
world."

"How did he come to be here?" The Lost Warrior asked. "We are not exactly
at the centre of the human galaxy."

"I do not know the full story." Sidian Deserts said. "Maybe you should ask
him when you return? All I know is that he came here to hide from
something. The Warrior General and he became strong friends and, towards
the end of his life, the Warrior General allowed the Professor to begin
engineering Gifts. I was one of the first."

"Who was first?"

"It died." Sidian Deserts sighed. "The whole first tranche did. We were
designed to die with our Warriors at the start."

"But that isn't right." Lost Boy protested. "I don't remember learning
that!"

"I doubt you learned much about Gifts at all in general school!" Sidian
Deserts laughed. "We were not instrumental in the creation of the Second
Realm. Our duty is to maintain it until it is ready to move beyond its
original design."

"And that is now?" Lost Warrior asked.

"Soon." Sidian Deserts replied. "Tare du Maretch is not in crisis, but we
are stagnating. The remote provinces, like this one, are becoming more and
more lawless. Warriors here are not law-bringers, they are commanders,
fighters. Lost Clan's clan is not the only one fighting us here. Has not
been the last to be destroyed, sadly."

"I did not realise." The Lost Warrior said. "Why do they rebel?"

"Because the system is top heavy." The Lost Boy said. "I noted that when I
was not gifted, now it's even more blue! This space-rock makes creds, lom,
but the two palaces suck most of that to themselves. People want their
share."

 "How do you know this?" Sidian Deserts asked.

"Because it's what we used to spark when we were diving." Lost Boy
explained.

"Troubian is isolated from this place, from anyplace but itself. But even
there, there is a growing underclass there that wants more from life than
another turn on the wheel. Men want life now, not in another life!"

"And that is the crux of our problem." Sidian Deserts said. "The Wheel is
not serving the people. It is too unfocussed as a philosophy, has no
priesthood to serve it. Standards of living have improved over the last
century, but the people hold on even tighter to their traditions because of
this. We do not have to eat ties anymore, for example, but we continue to
do so and in even more numbers than ever before. Our traditions have become
more important than our religion and progressive government is seen as a
threat in regions like this."

"Check, lom." Lost Boy smiled. "And you want us to solve this for you?"

"Tonight if you could." Sidian Deserts said, and then laughed. "Seriously,
though, we need to come up with some solutions. You three were gifted
because many of us believe that the skills you have individually will
combine to give us a way forward."

"But not every Gift believes this?" Lost Warrior asked.

"Not every Gift." Sidian Deserts admitted. "There are just as many who
would have us create a new Warrior General."

"But that would destroy everything!" Lost Warrior said.

"Exactly!" Lost Boy laughed. "That's the point, why can't you note it? The
two palaces are failing most men on this space-rock. They are
self-serving. A new Warrior General would bring a single focus back into
our world."

"And lead us into anarchy!" Lost Warrior complained. The two palaces are
stability. They ensure that life has improved on Tare du Maretch. They
ensure that metals are mined and processed and sold on. If those systems
collapse we would risk direct involvement of the Galactic Allegiance on the
planet!"

"The Allegiance is sworn to remain out of local politics. It serves only
trade. As long as the trade continues, it will not mind if we are ruled by
the two palaces, a Warrior General or Galaxia herself. Trade's gonna flow."

"But trade needs stability. And what would happen to the installations on
the other planets in this system, if Tare du Maretch, collapses into civil
war? If the trade stops..."

"But we need change!" Lost Boy said. "Didn't you note anything Sidian
Deserts just said? This region and others like it are starting to stir. How
long before entire provinces rise up against the Second Realm? In Troubian
I could point you to hundreds, if not thousands of disgruntled workers who
expect more from their lives."

"So make the Wheel of Life more of a religion. Embed it in everyday
life..."

"There is no time for that!" Lost Boy laughed. "We would need to find a
prophet and have the prophet martyred before we could even begin to get
popular! Far easier to get a Warrior to step up the place and lead people
to victory."

"But he would be fighting against the Palace of Sunsets!"

"Or we could all fight together. The system must change, let us have one
leader to make those changes. The two palaces can be contained into that. A
popular revolution that does not need to threaten the two palaces."

"I can't see that working. Revolution needs martyrs too." Lost Warrior
reminded it. "And it has to revolt against something. We are not talking
people who have no jobs here, or educated people with no prospects. All you
have to work with are people who feel vaguely let down by the system. There
is no revolution there."

"But what about out here?" The Lost Boy asked. "What do they fight against
here?"

The Gift of the Sidian Deserts stood and slipped from the room. This was an
argument that would rage for a while yet, and it needed to rest before its
Warrior returned in the morning. It was pleased that the discussion had
developed so quickly though. And with the two of them arguing it was good
to see the ideas within them begin to ferment.

The Gift of the Lost Clan was the balance between these two, that was clear
now, and that was also why this meeting had been arranged here in the
Palace of the Green Forest. The Lost Clan had to be otherwise engaged for
another day at least. To allow the Lost Warrior and the Lost Boy to create
their own resolution to this problem.  From their arguments, the Second
Prime would be created.

****

 "You do not wish to join your friends in their morning sparring session,
then?" A voice asked.

It floated into its head and brought with it visions of the wider palace,
and the Warrior Graescin.

"I am reading Jalcomm's Thoughts on Human Nature." The Gift of the Lost
Clan said out loud. "You used a quote from it when we first played the Game
of Quotes. The next time we play I wish to be able to return the favour."

"Hah!" The Gift of the Sidian Deserts laughed as it came into the room.

It settled down in a chair opposite the Lost Clan. A small table had been
placed between the chairs and both Gifts helped themselves from the bowl of
fruit that had been placed on it. Behind the table was a tall thin window
that looked out onto the front of the Palace of the Green Forest.

A wide and sweeping lawn laid with seven large beds, led down to a dark
black lake. Beyond the still waters of the lake was the looming forest that
gave this region its name. In the wet air of the morning, though, it was
far from green. From this window, the stretch of the Forest was darker than
waters of the lake.

"You have not ventured out of this suite yet." Sidian Deserts said. "The
palace is not all full of evil, you understand?"

"I understand. I am just worried that I will turn a wrong corner and end up
in the kitchens or your suite. I am not ready for either of those
places. May never be."

"I understand as well."

They were silent for a moment, then the Sidian Deserts spoke again.

"If I could go back there, to the barn, I would do it differently."

"Intellectually I understand that." Lost Clan sighed. "You did what you
could do given the resources and the time you had. I do not have to accept
the reality of that though. And if it is any consolation, if I could return
to the barn it would be different for me this time as well."

"I sense that you would not ask me to save you if that were possible."

"I do not feel like Lost Boy or Lost Warrior." Lost Clan replied. "They
have slipped into this new life with an ease of purpose that I cannot seem
to find."

"So you believe I should not have had you gifted?"

"No. I understand why that has to be. If I could change it I would, but I
cannot and so I accept it. I just do not understand my place in this little
triumvirate you have created. The Lost Warrior is a hero, it will make its
Warrior the strongest Warrior this planet has ever seen. The Lost Boy has a
verve, a desire for life that defies explanation. He is the opposite to
everything the Lost Warrior stands for and that makes them both
stronger. What do I have to offer? All I do is read, and think."

"You are the catalyst between the other two." Sidian Deserts said. "They
clash, will continue to do so, but you, you are the mediator, the
philosopher that will find the middle ground between their extremes of
opinion. You may not see it now, but you are the leader of this
group. without you it would fracture into pieces."

"But a leader is action! I am not action, I use words, not force. I can
already spin words about the state of humanity that would make you weep at
the depth of their understanding.  But I am no leader!"

"Yes, you are. A leader is not just someone who fights. Your Warrior will
do that for you. A leader holds people together. That is what you do. You
may see it as only spinning words, but out of the words spun by the Warrior
Ghen, the Second Realm was born. How much more can you do?"

"But I am still Traes!" Lost Clan complained. "He is still cowering in my
heart. Others may look at me now and see a Gift. See majesty and power,
but, in the dark of night, I still want to have my vengeance on your
Warrior. I still do not understand why he did what he did."

The Gift of the Sidian Deserts smiled, then whispered:

"Until you have lived, how can you know death?"

"What do you mean?"

"A line from the Triple Condimium." Sidian Deserts explained. "I did not
understand myself its true meaning until just then. Now I understand and
will attempt to explain it to you. You have lived inside many prisons so
far, young one. In your clan, in the Tower of Gifting, even here... You are
not in a position to be the judge yet. Not until you have tasted life. Come
to me in two years and tell me that you still wish vengeance on my
Warrior. The we can have that discussion."

"I may hold you to that."

"I have no doubts that you will." Sidian Deserts laughed. "Now, to the
other reason for my visit with you. The warriors that face the Silver
March, the Essai du Marsh Darzhon, they have to rest before they face the
Silver March. Each year, for two days, they are sent to a remote province
to gain their strength. To relax and prepare in their own ways for the
Silver March. This year they have been invited here. We are holding a meal
for them tomorrow night. You three should be there."

"But we cannot meet the warriors before the gifting!" Lost Clan
exclaimed. "We might link with them too early. Endanger the whole Essai!"

"The feast we will hold for them will take place in the Shombruh here. At
one end of the hall is a minstrel gallery, at the other a more secluded
gallery that is hidden behind a screen." Sidian Deserts smiled. "You could
sit and eat there, in private and still see the warriors-stujair."

"And we would be there why?"

"Such innocence!" The Gift of the Sidian Deserts laughed. "To watch the
young warriors, of course! You do not want to see them?"

"I would like to see one in particular."

"Yes, the Lost Boy took great pleasure in telling me about your crush on
the warrior-stujair Sadath."

"I did not know his name."

"And now you do. It is important to the young warriors, this break. And
also it is important that you see them all. You are each drawn more and
more to one warrior. He is the one you will lead to victory in the Silver
March."

"I will lead to victory?"

"The warrior will have the ability to move through the intricacies of the
archetypes they will use in the Silver March. You, though, you will need to
give him the strength and the reason to win."

"But I am not gifted to him yet!" Lost Clan complained. "I've only just
learnt his name!"

"But you forge a connection to him now. If you concentrated hard enough you
would be able to tell me where he was now in the Palace of Sunsets. Even
though it is on the other side of the planet."

"I always know where he is..."

"There you go. He will not feel you yet. For warriors that comes during the
Silver March itself or... after. But if you want him, you must give him
your strength. That way he will win and you will be his Gift."

"Does the Lost Boy know this?" Lost Clan laughed. "It will be laying wagers
with every Carder in Troubian!"

"Gifts and Gifted Warriors are not allowed to wager on the outcome of the
Silver March." The Gift of the Sidian Deserts smiled. "We will all know the
outcome the moment you appear in the arena."

"And we will not be seen tomorrow night?"

"My Pahtron and I will know you are there, and a few of the ties, but
no-one else, and certainly not the warrior-stujair."

"And we can eat?"

"You can eat."

"Good. The food in the Tower has become repetitive of late!"

"But it is good for you."

"Of course it is. But it would be nice to eat something that is not good
for me for a change!" Lost Clan replied.

"Well that will happen tomorrow night."

"Good, I'll tell the others."

"Jen. I will come and get you when it is time."

"Jen."

They sat in silence for a while, then both reached for the fruit bowl at
the same time.

"I am scared, you know." Lost Clan said as their hands touched in the bowl.

"I know. But there is nothing to be afraid of."

"Has a Gift ever chosen the wrong warrior?"

"Never."

"Then I could be the first!"

"Unlikely." Sidian Deserts smiled. "But it is not that which worries you,
is it?"

"No, it is what happens... after!"

"You never had sex before your gifting, did you?"

"No. And now it is all different! I had trouble understanding what to do
back then. Now the Professor has moved everything around, I can't even
think where to start!"

"You will not be alone, we will all be there for the first time."

"Somehow that doesn't make it any better!" Lost Clan laughed. "Knowing that
it will be my first time and that it will be an event watched by every
Warrior and his Gift in the Palace of Sunsets! Not too much pressure,
then!"

"It will come together. When you are first in the arms of your Warrior, it
will all come together. Later you will laugh that you could feel like
this."

"And you are sure?"

"I was gifted once as well." The Gift of the Sidian Deserts reminded it. "I
can still remember what it was like. We all do! You do not think your
warrior is also feeling like this?"

"Of course not!" Lost Clan smiled. "Lost Warrior told me they have ties
that serve them, body and soul, from when they are thirteen. He knows sex!"

"But he has never been with a Gift. None of them have. Your souls are
already linked, young one. If you are feeling this nervous, I would wager
your warrior is equally so."

"You think?"

"I know."

"Hah!" Lost Clan laughed. "Then the Lost Boy's warrior is probably working
his way through the Serail as we speak!"

"Theirs will be a... physical union!" The Gift of the Troubled Waters
smiled.

"Jen! Make sure the Professor soundproofs their room on the day!"

"And Lost Warrior. Has it chosen yet?"

"The warriors-stujair come and look through the cloister wall in the Tower
garden at us." Lost Clan said. "But Lost Warrior has never been in the
garden to witness this. He has not chosen."

"It will be interesting." The Gift of the Sidian Deserts mused. "There are
two choices I see for him. I would like to know which one he favours."

"I thought you said you couldn't wager anything on this?"

"It is an intellectual interest."

"Really?"

"There is nothing wrong with a friendly wager with the other Gifts before
we know who you have chosen, is there?"

"And there will be other Gifts here tomorrow night?"

"My Pahtron does not work here alone." Sidian Deserts smiled. "There will
be four other Warriors and their Gifts here tomorrow night. We will be
interested in your choices."

"I didn't realise that we were the subject of such scrutiny!"

"This is an exciting time of year for us." Sidian Deserts laughed. "New
Gifts emerging, being gifted. New warriors in the making. Of course we are
scrutinising you! There is sex and love in the air, and at the end of the
day, we are all interested in that!"

"Still scares me, though!"

"Hah! Come on. Let us go and find your friends. I wonder if Lost Warrior
has managed to throw Lost Boy out of the practice ground yet?"

"If you heard them earlier you would have thought they were killing each
other!"

"But this training schedule Lost Warrior has designed, it amuses them
both. After tomorrow night there is only one more week. If you are not kept
busy it will pass like an eternity!"

"And I get to delay... that, for a while longer."

"But only for a little while longer." The Gift of the Sidian Deserts smiled
as it held the door open for the younger Gift.

****

The tie that had brought them to the room on the other side of the screen
bowed and backed out of the room and the three of them rushed to the screen
looking down into the hall.  It was not the Shombruh du Garree-ay in the
Palace of Sunsets, but it was a large space. Thirty or forty metres long
and maybe three stories high. A small rotunda of guitarists played at the
opposite end of the room and they sat behind the screen in the room
opposite the minstrel gallery.

A large table filled the centre of the space, laid out for the meal
tonight. A fire blazed in the fireplace on the wall to their left, and ties
worked the serving tables along the opposite wall. Apart from the ties the
room was empty.

"Nothing." The Gift of the Lost Boy sighed. "Just ties. How long do we
wait?"

"Not long." The Gift of the Lost Warrior smiled as it settled back into its
chair. "You are quiet, Lost Clan."

"Scared. Tonight I will see him properly."

"What's his name?" The Gift of the Lost Boy asked, jumping the arm of his
chair and landing in the seat with a thump.

"Sadath."

"Pretty."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

"Will you two stop!" Lost Warrior laughed. "At least you have seen them
all. I've never even caught a glimpse of one of them!"

"Sidian Deserts said that I had already forged a link with Sadath, that you
two would do the same. Can you not feel him?"

"Too much choice!" Lost Boy laughed, pulling its legs up onto the chair.

"There is... something and then nothing." Lost Warrior sighed. "You said
Sidian Deserts spoke of two possibilities?"

"But no names." Lost Clan said.

"And nothing at all for me?" Lost Boy asked.

"It said that your relationship would be physical!" Lost Clan laughed
nervously.

"As if I would let it be any other way! This is the man I have to slide for
the rest of my life!" Lost Boy replied. "It had better be Jax physical!"

"How does that feel?" Lost Warrior asked.

"What?" Lost Boy replied.

"To speak of loving a man, a Warrior? When you were human, you had your
heart set on a woman, I remember you saying."

"That was before Prof-man got his hands on me!" Lost Boy laughed. "Now, now
I need a Warrior. Need him a lot, you understand!"

"You're doing it again!" The Gift of the Lost Clan sighed.

"What?" Lost Boy asked.

"Reducing everything to sex!"

"And that is what it will be about at first." Lost Boy reminded him. "You
were at the same lesson as me for that one. The Warrior will need nectar
every four or five hours for the first week. That's a lot of bezzie, my
friend!"

"I know!"

"Reckon you are up to it?"

"Stop it, Lost Boy! You are scaring it!" Lost Warrior smiled. "It is not
Lost Clan's fault that its life as a human was as unfulfilled as yours was
fulfilled."

"Or yours!" Lost Boy added. "You were given bezzie for free, don't forget."

"But I am not the one teasing Lost Clan!"

"Jen, I'm sorry. It's just that they are so close! And when I get excited,
I get all shaky, jen? My bezzie is out there!"

"You can't call a Warrior a bezzie!" Lost Clan laughed. "He is more than
his quill you know!"

"Not for the first week, my friend. For the first week it is all about
quill! And quill's bezzie. That is the whole point!"

"Jen! I understand." Lost Clan smiled. "I just need to get my head around
the whole thing, that's all?"

"I'm not sure it's your head your Sadath will be interested in!" Lost Boy
laughed.

"Stop!" The Gift of the Lost Warrior said. "You are scaring it again!"

A gong sounded outside in the hall.

"It begins!" Lost Boy said as it dragged its chair to the edge of the
screen and looked down into the hall.

Several men and women came into the Shombruh, and mixed with them were five
Warriors and their Gifts. The Warrior Graescin, ruler of this Palace, was
easily the largest of the Warriors in the room and, for the first time
since he had seen him, the Gift of the Lost Clan understood why he was the
master Warrior here. The man had a presence, an authority that demanded
obedience, even without the Warrior speaking a word.

"Move over." The Gift of the Lost Warrior said as it pulled its own chair
over, making room for the Gift of the Lost Clan who also pulled up to the
edge.

"My stomach is dancing!" Lost Clan laughed.

"Stop!" Lost Warrior said, holding the end of its tail over Lost Boy's
mouth. "Let us enjoy this without the innuendo for a while."

"Jen." Lost Boy complained, pushing the tail away. "But not for too long,
please?"

The guests in the hall below them milled around the table for a while
before they took their places. In all there were maybe twenty of them plus
the five warriors and their gifts. Graescin and The Gift of the Sidian
Deserts sat alone in the centre of one side of the table. Three spaces were
still free on one side of the Gift and three on the side of the Warrior.

Behind the three Gifts in the room above this hall a door opened and a tie
came in with a tray of canap‚s and some drinks. The three Gifts turned
to watch, but soon returned to the view below. Every now and then a tail
would lift a small food parcel or a glass to a mouth, but this was done
automatically as they waited for the new warriors to enter the room.

A moment later and the Warrior Graescin rose to this feet.

"Maetzue et Kudoe." The Master Warrior said. "Palach du Foray Vair voo
akwaila fai por Essai du Marsh Darzhon."

"What's he saying?" Lost Boy asked.

"He's welcoming everyone to the Palace of the Green Forest!" Lost Clan
sighed. "Didn't I see you in the language lessons?"

"Didn't mean I was paying attention!" Lost Boy laughed. "He will switch
back to common soon, yes?"

"Yes." Lost Warrior assured him. "This is a formal occasion. They have to
speak Motdieu for that."

"Listen!" The Gift of the Lost Clan said rather too urgently. "He's
introducing the warriors-stujair!"

"Et monteno, silvoo plaitotra verticarch por praytondaset ahnay du Marsh
Darzhon grahn. Jayvoo don Essai du Marsh Darzhon!"

"Please be upstanding for this year's contestants in the great Silver
March. I give you..." Lost Clan translated.

"Essai du Marsh Darzhon. The Test of the Silver March." Lost Boy
interrupted. "I know, I did listen some of the time!"

"They are here!" The Gift of the Lost Warrior hissed and they all fell
silent as the warriors who were not yet Warriors, came into the room and
took their places at the table.

Sadath stood next to the Warrior Graescin. The Gift of the Lost Clan noted
this, but chose not to read any deeper meaning into the seating arrangement
at the moment.

"There!" The Gift of the Lost Boy hissed. "Damn but that's a mighty sight!"

"Who?" The Gift of the Lost Clan asked.

"The middle of the three next to the Gift of the Sidian Deserts!"

"He has a certain.. charm!" Lost Clan laughed.

"That's not charm, that's my bezzie!" Lost Boy smiled. "Yours is looking
mighty square as well!"

"I've never seen him all over! If you know what I mean." The Lost Clan
smiled.

"He's a blonde one. I'll give you that."

"And so is yours!"

"So he is!" Lost Boy laughed. "Looks like we are more similar than you
thought. Maybe it should be your room being sound proofed!"

"They'll have used it all on yours!" Lost Clan laughed.

"What about you... Hey, I think the Lost Warrior is in love!"! Lost Boy
joked.

The Gift of the Lost Warrior had its head resting against the screen. Its
face was transfixed and the object of its desire stood tall and broad,
standing next to the Gift of the Sidian Deserts.

"Check it's still breathing!!" Lost Clan laughed.

The Gift of the Lost Boy ran its tail beneath the Lost Warriors nose. The
Gift brushed it aside.

"I can hear you." It sighed, settling back into its chair. "I did not
expect the feeling to be so strong!"

"Hey!" Lost Boy laughed. "Three blondes!"

"Does that mean anything?" Lost Clan asked.

"Well I'm not sharing mine!" Lost Boy said.

 "As if I need yours..."

"Stop!" Lost Warrior sighed again. "Those are our Warriors!"

"I'm even more scared now!" The Gift of the Lost Clan said. "He's so real!"

"If we are being honest here." Lost Boy whispered. "So am I. Up until now
it has been a big game. Now, now I can feel him!"

"And me!" the Lost Warrior said.

"I've lost my appetite." the Lost Clan said.

"Me too." The Gift of the Lost Boy added.

"Let's just stay here and watch them for a while." Lost Warrior said as it
rested its head against the grill again.

Behind them, their tails wrapped around each other and settled to the
floor.

They had chosen their Warriors.

****

And now it was time.

"I don't like this!" The Gift of the Lost Clan complained.

They had stayed in the Palace of the Green Forest for three days. And,
despite itself, the Gift of the Lost Clan had enjoyed itself. Relaxation,
exercise and good conversation, as well as the occasional sight of the
warrior of your dreams, it helped to refresh the soul.

Now, though, now it was all too real! The Silver March had begun and, as
the prize for the March, it was time for it to be displayed!

"No-one has ever fallen off!" The professor smiled as he helped pull the
frame into an upright position.

It was a large inverted equilateral triangle, an appropriate symbol since
its geometry embodied the Second Prime. At the point of the triangle was a
small ledge and the Gift balanced its feet on this. Its arms were wrapped
around the horizontal bar at the top of the triangle and its tail grasped
this for support and comfort as well.

It was shaking.

"What's wrong?" The professor asked once he was happy the triangle and the
Gift were in place.

"I'm scared!" The Gift complained. "Why must I go first?"

"Because you were the first to be gifted." The professor smiled, stroking
the tip of the Gift's tail. "Just reach out to him, settle in his
mind. Everything else will fall into place."

"If you are sure..."

"You can't go back now!" The Professor laughed. "Your fate has been
decided. There are no choices but those that require you to support the
fate." He added, quoting the Golden March.

"And when you hold that fate in your hand, find its balance." The Gift of
the Lost Clan added, completing the quote. "And when you have the balance,
you become the master of your fate. You control your own destiny."

The words became a mantra, and the Gift used them to calm itself.

And a time before flooded into its memory.

A small boy, cowering behind a Gift in a barn ten thousand kilometres and
two years away from here. Back then it had needed to calm itself. Then it
had used the Soldier's Rejoice. Now, now it needed something more.

Fate had been what the Sidian Deserts used to protect that small boy from
the Warrior Graescin. How had that been balanced? The boy was a Gift
himself now and soon, very soon that Gift would have its own Warrior. Was
that the balance, itself as a Gift and the soon to be Warrior?

But all that did was balance the small and scared boy in the barn. It
didn't bring any balance to the moment, to the now. And it certainly
brought nothing to balance the warrior about to step into his second and,
the Gift knew, final, Silver March.

The wind whipped up the sounds of the crowd and they span around its ears
like leaves for a moment. It looked up and sniffed the air. From behind the
wall it could not see the invited audience from both Palaces, but their
scent was very real. There was excitement and not a little tension on the
breeze today.

None of the people in the audience understood the real meaning here,
though, and maybe it was right that they didn't understand.

The small boy, Traes, scared for his life and fearing for his soul, had
been balanced against the destruction of his Clan. He had been balance for
the Gift of the Sidian Deserts. The fate of a child balanced against the
wrath of a vengeful Warrior. What that small boy had become, this Gift,
that was the fulcrum. And it was balanced not by the warrior below, but by
the other two Gifts that it now called friend.

This new balance, it had the potential to change everything, but before
that... before that, there was a more pressing problem. There would be sex
and, yes, love today. And in its whole life it had had precious little of
either.

That was what really scared it.

There was a roar from the crowd, and the wall in front of the Gift slipped
aside. The triangle moved forward and the Gift found itself hanging now,
about a metre, up the wall above the arena. From here it could see across
most of the Silver March. Could see the rows of seats on the right. Could
look clearly now at the audience of Warriors, Gifts and invited
guests. Could see the small cameras zooming around the arena that were
beaming this event live to the planet.

Three of them hovered in front of it for a moment, before they zoomed back
off into the arena.

How would it know when it all started?

And then the Gift's mind flipped as the warrior-stujair stepped into the
arena. Sadath was here, and the Gift of the Lost Clan felt its mind drawn
to the warrior, drawn into the warrior.  He was standing at the other end
of the arena, lost behind a stand of poles that rose almost four metres
above him. His opponent, Mandim, was elsewhere in the arena. The Gift
located him, ten metres away to the south. It let this knowledge settle
into Sadath's mind.

The warrior-stujair accepted this information as part of his meditation. He
was calm, so he could feel his opponent. Taste his mind across the arena.

A siren sounded above the arena.

The first of the three Silver Marches planned for this day was begun.

Sadath relaxed into a Pous, then launched himself up the nearest pole,
using rails to add momentum to his upward thrust. Across the arena, the
Gift noted that his own strength was feeding the warrior. It also saw that
Mandim had executed a series of Sauta that were taking him further away
from Sadath.

Sadath took this knowledge and in a moment launched into a sequence of
Relai that saw him somersault across the top of fifteen poles, bringing him
to a position where he would be above Mandim for a moment. This was a game
of three strikes, and the first to three strikes would win. Sadath planned
to execute the first strike here.

He could hear Mandim now as he rolled across the ground and came up against
a wall. A moment later and he was over the wall, another Sauta and another
roll. He was below. It was clear he was planning to draw Sadath out and his
Sauta had brought him in a wide arc around the arena.

All the games of the Silver March began with the warrior in one of seven
starting positions around the arena and Mandim had come past six of them
now.

This was the key the Gift realised, to Mandim's thinking.

There was only one way Mandim could move now, and this would allow Sadath
to strike first. It slipped the knowledge to Sadath. The warrior realised
it had just worked out Mandim's strategy.

He executed a gombillay and settled into a Flaish, waiting for Mandim to
launch into another Sauta. The moment he did, and Sadath fell from the top
of the pole he was using, fell into a Flaishet and his betoe swung in an
arc, swiping Mandim across the shoulder.

A thin trail of blood followed his betoe as it passed over Mandim's skin,
and the colour of the blood on the brown skin of the warrior excited both
Sadath and the Gift.

That was unexpected.

That there could be a bloodlust here as well. That his Warrior could be
excited by the blood of his foe. That the Gift had the potential for that
lust within itself...

Sadath flipped in the air, and the Gift of the Lost Clan was there with
him, helping his feet flip over his head and land onto the ground. Into a
roll then as the audience erupted. Without waiting for the cheers to die
away, Sadath executed a Tuyeau before another Pous took him back up and
then across the poles.

When he was ten metres away, he rested.

The Gift of the Lost Clan was ecstatic!

They had taken first blood! Sadath, though, he was not as happy. They were
both playing to type, he and Mandim, both using archetypes and patterns
they had always used. He would be able to predict Mandim's next move as
easily as Mandim could predict his.

The Gift had not thought of that, and it was only when it realised that it
couldn't sense Mandim anymore that it realised there was a problem. Mandim
was in the arena, but the warrior was now concentrating so much on his
training, on calming his mind, of playing against type, that the Gift had
lost him.

Sadath pulled together a string of moves that took him towards where the
Gift was hanging in its triangle. There was an open area here and he
planned to face down Mandim in the space at the foot of the Tower of
Gifting. Not being able to see Mandim, or feel his thoughts, beyond his
general presence in the arena, all the Gift could do was watch.

There was an elegance in the moves Sadath was executing that the Gift had
not seen when The Gift of the Lost Warrior executed them. The Lost Warrior
was good, it knew these moves and when it utilised them they were executed
as if from a text book. Sadath was not that formal, not that stylised.

His movements flowed smoothly from one pattern to the next, as if the
gombillay itself was part of both the patterns it sat between rather than a
transitory pattern in its own right. It knew that the Lost Warrior would
see this as lax, and it smiled.

Sadath had his own way, and the Gift of the Lost Clan admired him that.

And then... attack!

Mandim had been waiting half way up a pole on the edge of the clearing. Had
heard Sadath approaching and created his own attack position. The betoe
swiped the back of Sadath's leg as he passed Mandim, and Sadath was forced
to duck and then roll into the clearing. The Gift of the Lost Clan was
beside himself!

It had lost concentration, and Mandim had been able to pull a point
back. Second strike had been made! And now a line of blood trickled down
Sadath's left calf.

There was no time!

At once Sadath was up and on his feet, facing Mandim who landed a few
metres away from him in the Cloetuzh, a pattern that Sadath himself had
also taken up. There would be a Troubetch now. A fight, betoe to
betoe. Both warriors had trained to fight like this and Sadath launched
straight into the attack, Cloetuzh giving way to a parry that was a whirl
of wood and arms.

The Gift of the Lost Clans did not understand how to fight like this, but
it understood that the warrior did. It could feel the moves in his mind and
it used its own mind to bring calm to the whirling mind of Sadath. For
Sadath the moves open to him suddenly became clear. Mandim was forced back
and Sadath allowed the parrying and thrusting of this joust to move Mandim
away from where he had started fighting, to an area of the clearing about
five metres away from his starting point.

Once Mandim was in position, he launched into a Sairpon. A high-kicking
attack that used feet as well as betoe and pushed Mandim back with the
force of the attack. As the blows rained on him, Mandim stumbled, then fell
between two poles. He had not realised he had been led around the clearing
and had assumed there was still a pole at his back.  He had intended to use
this as a brace to launch a counter offensive against Sadath. The pole was
not there and as he tried to jump to his feet, Sadath gained enough time to
whip his betoe around and catch Mandim on the hip.

Third blood!

The audience cheered again.

There was a chance Sadath could win now, and they were becoming
excited. Carders were playing the audience and a flurry of wagers were
being made.

In the arena, Sadath used his betoe to vault over Mandim, then launched
into a series of Sauta that took him away across the arena to an area where
a series of gullies allowed him time to catch his breath.

That had been a new move for Sadath. He did not like Sauta it took too much
effort, but today, for some reason, he had sailed through the moves, ending
in a Sohns at the base of a gully. He relaxed back into a Cloetuzh, letting
his heart and breathing calm.

The Gift was sweating with the exertion of this game!

It was trying to take away some of the strain from the warrior. Silently it
thanked the Lost Warrior for all the enforced exercises over the last six
months that had given it the strength to cope with this. In the arena
below, Sadath was almost as relaxed and alert as he had been when he had
entered the Silver March. As for the Gift, it was all it could do to
maintain its hold on the triangle, such was the depth of its exhaustion.

Mandim was also exhausted and this gave the Gift time to recover its
strength a little. When it looked up, Mandim was half way up a pole, and
was springing from pole to pole around the edge of the clearing. It was
clear he was trying to use this vantage to locate Sadath.

The Gift let Sadath know where Mandim was, and in his mind's eye he could
feel Sadath smiling. At last the warrior realised that the Gift was with
him, and this seemed to draw strength into him.

He let out a shout of triumph, and Mandim halted in his jumps. He worked
out where the call had come from and changed tactic, dropping to the ground
and launching into a series of Sauta once again that would bring him close
to Sadath. He had reverted to type and Sadath saw this through the Gift's
eyes.

In a moment his strategy became clear.

Mandim would expect him to become aerial. They both knew this was Sadath's
preferred fighting style. Sadath dismissed that, though, and instead
launched into a Pronda. Using a low rail sticking out of one of the poles,
he swung around it ever faster until he finally released and used the
momentum of this flip with the power of his legs to charge through the
poles straight at Mandim.

They were not that far apart and Mandim, still in mid-Sauta could hear
Sadath but assumed he was above him. His final Sauta became a Pous as he
launched himself diagonally into the air. He was aiming for a bridge on a
nearby pole. As he flew above, so Sadath stopped and turned his forward
motion into a flip. His betoe swung around and knocked Mandim's betoe from
his hands, clipping him on upper arm.

Sadath landed on his feet in a Metrah. Mandim, aware of his defeat. Rolled
across the ground and pulled himself to his feet, reaching over and
retrieving his betoe.

Both warriors were bleeding, but one of them was Victor. And, as the forest
of poles dropped away and the audience rose to their feet in appreciation
of the game they had witnessed. Sadath bowed low to them. Behind him Mandim
fell to both his knees and, when Sadath turned to face him, he offered his
betoe up to the victorious Warrior.

Sadath took the weapon, turned back to the audience, and then snapped the
betoe across his knee as was the tradition. He let the pieces fall to the
floor as the audience cheered again.

The Master Warrior entered the arena and a bevy of cameras swarmed above
his head.

"Maetzue et Kudoe!" He shouted, in Motdieu.

His voice was picked up by the cameras and echoed around the arena, around
the planet.

"Tue Gratse, Princhipay dae Princhipaya ay Rejenta!" He added, switching to
the language of the Palace of Sunrises, Motdeprons. "Honoured Guests and
Freemen of Tare Du Maretch!" He laughed, reverting to Motlomme, the common
tongue. "I give you the Warrior Sadath!"

He held out his arms and Sadath walked towards him, into his embrace.

He then took Sadath by the shoulders, Held him in front of the audience
while they cheered him, then he took him by the shoulders and led him over
to the frame that held the Gift of the Lost Clan.

The triangle had been lowered to the ground and the Gift of the Lost Clan
looked eye-to-eye at his Warrior.

"Your prize." The Master Warrior whispered, pushing Sadath forward. "Take
the Gift."

Sadath walked up to the triangle and put his arms around the Gift of the
Lost Clan's waist, he pulled the Gift from the triangle, which was pulled
back up into the tower above. The Gift wrapped itself around the Warrior,
its tail wrapping twice around Sadath's neck.

"I have been through so much to reach to you." The Gift whispered, lowering
his head onto Sadath's shoulder and breathing deep of the Warrior's scent.

His Warrior's scent.

"And I have waited so long for you!" Sadath sighed, holding the Gift's head
gently in one hand as the Gift relaxed onto his shoulder. The Master
Warrior took his shoulders again and now turned the new Warrior to the
audience. He smiled and wrapped his arms tighter around his prize, the
Gift.

The Master Warrior took him by the shoulder and then several other Warriors
came from the audience and led them into a door that had opened in the base
of the Tower of Gifting. This opened onto a short corridor that itself
ended in a large circular room. A platform, more a low table with a deep
red leather mattress on the top, stood in the middle of the room.  The
Warriors, and then their Gifts, gathered around this table as Sadath lay
the Gift of the Lost Clan onto the top of the leather mattress.

There were no words between them. No need for words between them.

The Gift reached down and took his Warrior's quill into its hands, stroked
his sex and then ran hands up along his muscled belly to equally muscled
chest until he wrapped both hands around the Warrior's thick neck.

"I am yours." It whispered.

Not the best first statement of undying love it could have chosen, and now
that it had uttered the words, the Gift of the Lost Clan realised it could
have used a thousand other, better statements! But, at the end of the day,
it served its purpose.

Sadath smiled, noting the worry in the Gift's mind, and then climbed onto
the Gift, he pulled it into a kiss and then ran his own hands along and
around the Gift's body. Hands settled around the Gifts own sex, erect also
in anticipation of the love to follow. Hands moving down the shaft and then
stroking gently as they reached the large Nectaria at the base of the
shaft.

And then, just behind and below the Nectaria, that new opening that made
the Gift so uniquely a Gift. The Prostatae. An organ shaped from the
original prostate gland that had been designed with the dual purpose of
pleasure and the collection of sexual fluids from a Warrior.

The Warrior stroked his fingers across the opening and the Gift gasped. And
then first one, but then two fingers slipped inside and the Gift writhed
beneath its Warrior, as it was breached in this way.

Sadath slipped back slightly, then settled between the Gift's legs. The
Gift's tail was already wrapped gently back around his neck, pulling the
Warrior closer to it. Sadath took his quill in one hand and guided it
gently to the entrance of the Prostatae. The Gift's hands and fingers
fluttered wildly along the Warrior's back. It knew what was to come, knew
it wanted this now, needed it even, but knew how to make it happen.

There was a pressure as the head of the quill pushed against the opening of
the Prostatae, and the Gift of the Lost Clan could feel the ecstasy as the
quill pushed into it. And with that push came a fire that spread through
its body. Rushed around its Nectaria, wrapped around belly, chest,
heart. Prised open the fist of hate that had settled there since the
destruction of its Clan and then spun around brain and head. And then a
feeling of tingling warmth and energy flowed over and through its entire
body.

For the first time since it had emerged, the Gift glowed.

Around them, around the bed, the gathered Gifts began to keen. A low sound
that rose to a crescendo in waves as the energy and excitement of the Gift
and the Warrior before them rose to its own peak.

And on the bed, the Gift took its Warrior's head in its hands and looked
long and hard into his eyes. A connection was forged then, a connection of
mind that echoed the physical connection of their bodies.

"I am yours." The Warrior whispered, and the keening from the Gifts around
them broke down into howls of desire and need as the young Warrior thrust
harder and harder into the young Gift.

This was something new, never before had the physicality of the first
joining overwhelmed the assembled Gifts in such a way and, as Sadath rose
to his peak, so the assembled Warriors went to their Gifts, pulled them
closer. there was always sex after witnessing a first joining, but the sex
today would be intense indeed!

And in a moment, already excited from the exertions of the Silver March and
his victory over Mandim, Sadath erupted into his own ecstasy. His orgasm
flushed his skin and he collapsed onto the Gift, pushing his quill deeper
and deeper into the Gift as he fed his love to his new love. As the power
slowly drained from his balls and quill, the Gift pulled him into a kiss,
and then the keening of the assembled Gifts came together again, a song of
triumph.

The Warriors cheered, but several of them were already pulling their Gifts
away from the room and back to their suites in the Palace.

The Gift of the Lost Clan smiled and glowed brighter, it had forgotten this
had been a public event! Sadath was pulled away from the Gift, out of the
Gift, by the remaining Warriors. They took him out of the room and into
another room to celebrate.

The remaining Gifts crowded around the mattress. All were glowing, and all
were still keening, although the sound had lost its coherence now as each
individual Gift sang for the time they were first gifted. They lifted the
Gift of the Lost Clan gently from the table, then carried it out of the
room and into an antechamber, to where the professor was waiting.

"Lost Clan!" A voice called. "Even I felt that! You had some mighty
bezzie?" The Gift of the Lost Boy laughed.

"I had some bezzie!" The Gift of the Lost Clan smiled as it was laid gently
on a soft bed.

"How do you feel?" The professor asked?

"I feel like love!" The Gift smiled.

"Always a good sign." The professor said. "When you have just had your
first love!" He laughed at his own joke.

Hands reached out, many hands, and tails and these stroked across the Gift
of the Lost Clan, made it feel even more loved, even more at home.

"Now," The professor continued, "I have to examine you to make sure
everything is working, jen?"

"Jen." The Gift sighed as the Gift of the Lost Warrior came and stood on
its other side.

"What was it like?" The Gift asked.

"Like nothing I have ever experienced before!" The Gift of the Lost Clan
smiled.

"And he is jen?" The Gift of the Lost Boy asked. "The one?"

"He is the one." The Gift of the Lost Clan said.

In its head it remembered a conversation with the Gift of the Sidian
Deserts from what seemed like an eternity ago:

"There is only one way I can save you Traes. Do you desire love beyond the
love of life?"

"Would I love despite my life?"

"You know the litany, Traes. Do you understand the words?"

"Would you die for your Warrior?"

"I would die today if I knew he would live tomorrow."

"I desire a love such as that."

The Gift of the Lost Clan smiled.

It understood now, at the end.

Finally, it had such a love as that.

****

The Gift of the Lost Boy settled back onto the bed. The sheets were soft,
the mattress was soft, and the whole room seem designed for the pleasures
the coming week would so certainly bring. To him and to his new Warrior,
Selah. It climbed off the bed and wandered around the room, hands reaching
out and stroking the bed, the walls, the chairs.

It was in a building known simply as the Salars du Marsh, the Rooms of the
March. This small building was located in the palace gardens. These ran
almost the length of the Palace of Sunsets to the south of the Silver March
and the Tower of Gifting. The Salars du Marsh was one of three buildings
erected in the gardens.

This would be its home for the coming week as it merged body, mind and soul
with its new Warrior. And it so needed for that to happen. Two years ago it
had been a boy, like so many others. Born to a good family and just eight
months away from his first majority. But behind that veneer, behind the
good family, the successful parents and the studious son, there were
problems.

He had always had issues with his father. The man sacrificed his own soul
to his career and this example had driven the boy Janah into the arms of
excess and made him seek out more and more extreme pleasures. In the end,
the pleasures themselves became the goal rather than the need to escape
from his father. This, perhaps, had been the genesis of his undoing.

He had lost sight of what he had been running away from and had instead
grasped at the possibilities the sex and narcomeds offered up as a
substitute for love.

His mother was too weak to stand up to his father, or too tired to
care. Her life was also one of success and she drove herself as hard, if
not harder than her partner. If his father had sold his soul for his
career, then his mother had sold her humanity. She was a quiet, intense
woman who became more and more withdrawn from the family home. In the end
it was a rarity that she even appeared at weekends.

She had developed another life, one of friends and fantasy that replaced
the bland emotionless austerity of her home. Her son had been part of the
sacrifice she had willingly made. He had loved her, but had lost his
respect for her many years ago. He had not been loved by his family for so
long he couldn't even remember what that actually felt like.  And now, now
everything was different.

The boy Janah was no more and, fashioned from his body, was the body of the
Gift of the Lost Boy. Their minds, though, those of the boy and the Gift,
these were the same, as was their soul. The boy was now the Gift, but the
Gift was so much more than the boy. But at its core, the Gift still felt
what the boy felt, still lived that life, still remembered.

The beatings, the shouting, the crying, the fear, the loneliness. The hate.

Had he ever been happy then?

It remembered laughter with friends, at studies and yes, at times, even
with its father. It had no memories of laughing with its mother. With her
there was only silence and despair. But even the fleeting moments of
happiness he could remember with his father, they were not the norm, not
the themes that defined this life. The life of the boy had been crafted in
response to a vacuum of love, out of an empty home and an uncaring family.

What was the Gift made from?

Janah was there, that was certain, but this was mixed with something else,
something greater than anything Janah could ever had achieved on his
own. It was now a part of something bigger. Yes, it belonged to the Palace
of Sunsets and its new Warrior, but it also belonged to two other
Gifts. The Gift of the Lost Clan and the Gift of the Lost Warrior were as
integrated into the Gift of the Lost Boy's soul as was anything else.

From these two it learned innocence and wonder, strength and control. From
these two it learned to look forward with an open gaze and not through the
fog of the past. From these two it had the strength to love and, more
importantly, to allow itself to be loved.

Selah, its new Warrior, had fought a mighty battle at the Silver March
earlier. Unlike with the Gift of the Lost Clan's Silver March, this one had
been a contest involving Epay. The short sword that was as much a symbol of
the Warrior's authority as was his red skin and black ceremonial boots. The
arena had been transformed into a sea of low poles, the tallest of which
was no more than two metres high.

This sea of poles was sculpted into a frozen ocean of waves. Of valleys,
hills and troughs. And on top of these poles he and his Warrior had fought
together for the chance to be gifted. It had been strenuous, and the Gift
had almost passed out at one stage with the exertion of feeding its own
strength to the warrior in the field beneath it.

Selah was a canny fighter, but his opponent was a master of Epay, and this
is what had worried the Gift the most. Selah was strong, but neither of
them knew how to fight well with this weapon. Realising that it needed to
give the young warrior its strength rather than its guile, the Gift had
opened its mind to the warrior. Almost at once the connection had been
forged.

The young warrior recognised the Gift in its mind and realised he had been
chosen. With a speed and dexterity then that was extreme, it turned this
battle not into one of Epay against Epay, but one of balance and speed
against Epay. Sauta, Relai, Pous all the aerial moves were used by the
warrior as he flew around the arena. His opponent was left dumbfounded, not
sure how or when to attack.

First blood had come quickly as Selah sliced his blade across the other
warrior's arm as he executed a manoeuvre that had him vaulting the
motionless warrior.

This attack, though, had forced the other warrior, Annax, into action and
the fight became a chase, became a dance, became a contest of agility that
had drawn all of the Gifts strength away from it. It was grateful that the
Gift of the Lost Warrior had trained so much with it, especially in the
last two weeks. It needed that extra energy. Needed to feed this energy to
its warrior.

The gambit had paid off and Annax began to tire, began to slip on the small
tips of the poles. Clashes there were a many between them still and the
audience were on their feet screaming their appreciation of one or the
other of the fighters. This was a fast game, and they had not been
expecting that. Like Annax, they had been expecting a more formal fight of
Epay over Epay.

This dextrous dance across the poles, of clashes between body and Epay,
this was something new, something exciting.

Second blood came as Annax slipped and caught itself on his arms. He hung
from the top of one of the higher poles as Selah swept past on the poles
below and knocked the Epay from his hands, slicing the top of his knuckles
as he did so. Annax was allowed to regain his Epay, but there was a fear in
his eyes now.

Selah was still fresh, still moving across the arena in a wide arc, using
the Sauta to pick up speed. It was all Annax could do to remain standing
and in the end he settled onto a lower pole, using the height of the poles
behind him to rest against. The arc took Selah behind these poles and then
back towards them at a rush. At the last moment Sauta became Pous and he
sailed over the high poles, rolling in mid-air and landing on a pole
directly in front of Annax.

At once he launched into a parry. A thrusting round of Epay swordsmanship
that, had Annax not been so tired, would have seen him easily
defeated. Selah was not good with an Epay, but he was fresh while his
opponent was tired, defeated. And the end had been swift.

A miscalculation by Annax and Selah found an opening, his Epay striking the
warrior's chest and drawing the final blood.

Selah had claimed his Gift then and, as had been done with the Lost Clan
before, he had taken his prize in front of the other Warriors and Gifts.

Now, now the Gift waited for its Warrior to come to it. Waited for the time
it could take this young Warrior and make him part of it. Merge them
both. Tie its past firmly into its future.

There was a noise outside the Salars. It was tradition that the new Warrior
could not step onto the palace garden lawns until it had become merged to
its Gift. To this end older, gifted, Warriors carried the new Warrior on a
metal sledge above their heads. This was raucously deposited in front of
the veranda at the front of the Salars. The new Warrior stepped off the
sled and into the building.

All three Gifts would spend the next week here with their Warriors, and
Selah had been told which rooms were assigned to him and his Gift. He came
straight to the door now and let himself in.

The Gift of the Lost Boy was standing by the window, it turned and smiled
at the young Warrior in the doorway.

"Hi." It smiled.

"Hi." The Warrior said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind
it.

They walked towards each other, just looking into each other's eyes. Then a
hug, and the gift cried.

"What..." Selah began but the Gift looked up at him and smiled.

"It has been a while since I needed someone." It whispered, tail stroking
the Warrior's head, face, back.

"And now?" The Warrior asked.

"Now I need you."

It led the Warrior to the bed and pulled him onto it with him. They lay
there then, hands stroking each other, touch replacing voice as they
learned the body they would love.

"Before all this starts." The Gift said, after a while, smiling at the
Warrior. "There are some rules."

"There are?" The Warrior asked.

"Oh yes." The Gift laughed. "I am your Gift, but that does not mean I am
your possession. You understand that?"

"I... no."

"In public I will be everything a Gift should be. I will support you, take
my lead from you, do what you ask. In private, though, you will love me,
and love me often. I need this." The Gift smiled, reaching down and taking
the Warrior's quill in its hand. "And if you want anything in return, you
are going to have to give me this, often!"

"Hah!" The Warrior laughed, and he rolled over onto the Gift. "I was
thinking you were going to have to stop me trying to give it to you!"

"You were? And who's mercenary was going to help you?"

They both laughed then as a wrestle ensued. The Gift slipped around from
under the Warrior, jumped on his back and began stroking his balls and
quill with its tail which had slid up between the Warrior's legs.

The Warrior stood on the bed and the two of them slipped into a heap on the
floor as the top sheet slid off with them, around them. Now the Warrior
twisted and the Gift was trapped within his arms. His tail slipped down the
Warrior's back as he stood, lifting the Gift back up onto the bed. Slipped
down his legs and then began pushing at his backside.

"Hey!" The Warrior laughed as he dumped the Gift onto the bed. "That's not
fair, you've got an extra thing to attack me with!"

"It's called a tail." The Gift smiled as it pulled the Warrior down onto
the bed, tail still stroking and pushing at his rear.

"It's quite a nice thing, tail." The Warrior whispered.

"Really?"

And the Warrior pounced, pulling the Gift into a hug and then wrapping it
up in arms and legs. The Gift was trapped, tail also caught within the
embrace of the Warrior.

"I like you." The Gift said, licking across the Warrior's face and then
pushing its tongue into first one and then the other ear. "You can stay!"

"Well thank you." Selah laughed. "We always talked about what this moment
would be like, you know? When we are preparing for a Silver March."

"And?" The Gift asked, settling into his Warrior's embrace.

Its tail reached down and pulled the top sheet back onto the bed, back
around them and then over both their heads.

"And you just don't know what to expect." The Warrior sighed as the Gift
pulled him into a kiss. "This is not meant to be sex, it is meant to be
pure or something!"

"Well they forgot to tell me that!" The Gift laughed, leaning back so he
could get a better look at the Warrior. "We can do pure when we go and meet
the other Gifts and Warriors." It said. "When we are alone I want lust, and
lots of it!"

"I had assumed Soldesha was off limits once I was Gifted." Selah said, his
hands stroking the Gift's own quill, the other hand slipping down and
around the large Nectaria.

"Soldesha!" The Gift laughed. "My boy, Selah, Pahtron." It smiled, licking
Selah's nose. "You are my bezzie, jen? And I want you dancing across me
like a buxom on fire! You understand?"

"You want me to sponge you?" The Warrior asked slipping into the same
patois.

"Hmm." The Gift smiled. "Thinking more than sponge, lom. You up for
smooth?"

"I'm up."

"Then take it to me!" The Gift laughed. "I'm shining for you here, take
it!"

The Warrior lifted the Gift up and over, placing it on its back. The sheet
that had been over them now wrapped itself around them as the Warrior
pulled himself onto the Gift. They kissed then, the Gift's hands and tail
sliding around the Warrior. Caressing his back, his face, his
backside. Stroking his balls, pulling his quill to attention.

And the Warrior, his mouth was sliding across the Gift's chest, slipping
down its belly, it took the Gift's quill into his mouth. The Gift sighed,
then laughed.

"Fuel's going to be smooth there, boy. But first you have to pay."

"I have some mads I'll be paying mighty quick." Selah whispered, running
his tongue down the Gift's Quill.

He began to kiss his way around the Nectaria. They were too big to take
into his mouth, but that didn't stop him kissing, licking. And then he
moved down, behind the Nectaria, to the Prostatae. Tongue began to probe
and push and, at the same time, fingers began pushing against the Gift's
own backside.

Fingers and tongue entered the Gift at the same time and it arched its back
in appreciation. Talking was gone now, and both their minds were amplifying
and echoing the need for sex that was rising around them.

The Warrior slid his mouth back up to the Gift's quill, and the Gift
wrapped its tail around his buttocks, pulling the Warrior closer to
him. And hands pulled at his head, using ears to slide his body over its
own. And all the time the tail was probing at the Warrior, pulling him onto
the Gift, pushing into the man.

The Gift felt the Warrior's quill push up against it. The tail suddenly
gripped the man and pulled him forward. The quill slid into it. And there
was pleasure. Before, in the room with the other Warriors and Gifts, the
first mating had been about ritual. The Warrior took his prize. That was
the way of it. Now, now the second time they mated, it was about desire.
Soldesha.

The Warrior began to pull into and out of the Gift in long easy
strokes. The Gift moved up and down in anticipation of Selah and in
support. Together they loved. Selah smiled and kissed the Gift.

"This is better." He whispered, head pressed against the Gift's ear. "Than
any fantasy!"

"Just promise me you won't stop." The Gift replied.

The Warrior was rising to orgasm now, and the Gift felt the heat of the sex
spread from Selah's body into his own. Beads of sweat appeared on his
Selah's forehead and the Gift reached up and licked them off. Its body
began to glow gently, getting brighter as the Warrior came to orgasm.

"I'm..." Selah began, but could not finish as the orgasm exploded through
his body.

He wrapped himself around the Gift and the Gift pulled him in closer with
arms, legs and tail. He shuddered as he passed his juice, his life, to the
Gift, and the Gift flushed, a feeling of warmth spreading all around its
body.

"Rapture?" The Gift whispered, stroking the Warrior's hair.

"Truthsaying." The Warrior replied.

"I love you already."

"Lost to you." Selah whispered and kissed the Gift tenderly on the mouth,
then the forehead.

"I..." The Gift began, but its body had other ideas.

The last thing it remembered before it slipped into unconsciousness was its
Warrior, Selah, leaning over and smiling at it.

"Are you alright?" Selah asked as the Gift collapsed back into the
bed. "Hello?" He asked, panic creeping into his voice.

He sat up and held the Gift's head in his arms, pulled it closer to
him. There was breathing, but it was so shallow.

"Wake up!" He whispered urgently.

"It will be alright." Another voice said, making the young Warrior jump.

"Who are you?" He asked as a man walked across the room from the window.

"I am the professor." He explained, coming over to the bed and touching his
hand to the Gift's forehead. "I help the Gifts to emerge into this world."
He explained.

"What has happened to it?" Selah asked, still holding onto the Gift
tightly.

He was sat up at the back of the bed now, and the Gift was wrapped up in
his arms, lying across his chest.

"It is fine." The professor smiled, taking out a small device and attaching
it to the Gift's chest. "You have just made love to it, yes?"

"Yes." Selah said and then blushed.

The professor smiled.

"In order to make nectar for you, the body of the Gift has to expend a lot
of energy. This means it falls into a deep sleep for a few hours. When it
wakens, you will have to bring it to its own orgasm. That will be when you
can take the nectar."

"I thought I had hurt it!" The Warrior laughed.

"It will take a lot more than a Warrior to hurt a Gift!" The Professor
laughed, taking the device off the Gift and checking its readings. "This
one is strong, stronger than you will ever be. Remember that, young man."

"I... I will."

"Good. Now, you must stay with it while it is in this state. While the
nectar will be ready in an hour, but it will not be at its peak for at
least two hours. Your job will be to stop the Gift trying to release the
nectar before then."

"It would do that?"

"It will do that." The Professor said. "The nectar is not at its peak until
it regains consciousness. Before that, keep its hands on you and not on
itself. You understand?"

"Yes."

"Perfect. Later, you will provide a harness for the Gift and you can tie
its wrists into this while it is in its ecstasy. Until then, you are the
harness, jen?"

"Jen."

"Then I will leave."

"What will the nectar be like?" Selah asked as the professor stood from the
bed.

"No two Gifts produce the same nectar." The professor replied. "It is
genetically keyed for you and you alone. The first time you take it you
will be laid out for almost four hours. After that each time you take the
nectar it will put you to sleep for a few hours while it works on your
body."

"What will it do?"

"Don't they teach you any of this?"

"We know we will be gifted. That is all. Even the Gifts in the college do
not talk of this."

"They have their reasons, I suppose." The professor mused. "Know this then,
Warrior Selah. The nectar this Gift gives you will turn you into a Warrior
physically. At the moment it is just a title. Your skin will darken and
eventually take on a red sheen. Your muscles and skeleton will grow
larger. You will become more agile and the bond between you and your Gift
will be forged into an almost physical link. You will never be alone again,
no matter how far you are from your Gift."

"It is said that the Gifts will aid us if we have to fight. Will make us
even faster and stronger."

"Your Gift can make you appear invisible if it is necessary." The Professor
smiled. "But that is to come. This week is all about bonding. The nectar is
very addictive, and at the beginning you are going to need to take it about
every four hours."

"And after?"

"At least once each day, more if the need takes you. You will both know."

"Thank you." Selah sighed, stroking the Gift and kissing its
forehead. "Thank you for giving me the Gift."

"It is my pleasure." The professor replied.

Selah leaned down to kiss the Gift again. When he lifted his head the
professor was no longer in the room.

****

The Gift of the Lost Warrior pulled itself back up into wakefulness. There
was a weight on its chest, heavy, but not uncomfortable. It opened its
eyes. The room in the Salars du Marsh was in darkness, but its eyes allowed
it to see clearly. The Warrior Chedda was laid across his chest, snoring
gently.

The Gift reached out with hands and tail, stroked the Warrior's back,
cupped his face and pulled him into a kiss. Chedda's arms snaked around the
Gift's waist and he pulled him into a deep embrace, mouth clamped to the
mouth of the Gift. When the kiss finished the Warrior opened his eyes.

"You taste like sex!" He whispered as the Gift ran his hands around his
chest.

"I am your sex." The Gift smiled.

"I thought you were dying!" Chedda said, pulling the Gift even closer into
him. "When you fell unconscious after we made love, it happened so quickly
I thought you were dead!"  "I cannot control it." The Gift replied.

"I know. The professor came and explained it all to me."

"He was here?"

"I was scared and he came and assured me you were alright."

"He's a sneaky one!" The Lost Warrior laughed. "But I am still here and so
are you."

"I am." Chedda whispered and began kissing the Gift's head, eyes, nose,
mouth.

"Do you know..."  The gift whispered. "The last time I remember you was
when you were a Jen-Warrior?"

"Why is that?" Chedda asked as he slipped down slightly and began licking
and then gently biting the Gift's nipples.

"You were playing a game of Aikair. We had just had a boring lesson with
the Espree-Warrior. My friends wanted me to pick out some winners from you
and your comrades."

"I hope you picked me." Chedda said as his tongue slid down the Gift's
chest, and then wrapped itself around the head of its quill.

It gasped as Chedda took its quill into his mouth, one hand massaging its
Nectaria while the other probed first its Prostatae and then its backside.

"I picked you." Lost Warrior sighed as a feeling of desire spread from its
chest down through Nectaria and then out along its quill into the Warrior.

The Warrior sighed, then suddenly changed position. From just holding the
head of the Gift's quill in his mouth, he moved and swallowed the whole
quill. Sank onto the Gift so that all the Gift could see were the lips of
its love stretched across the base of its quill.

The Warrior's eyes were closed and already the hints of nectar leaking from
the quill was driving him into his own ecstasy. His hands still massaged
the Nectaria, but his body had settled across the bottom of the Gift's
body. The Gift's tail rose up and began stroking the Warrior's head, back,
backside. The Warrior turned onto his side and the tail wrapped around
quill, then slipped around his balls.

And then an urgency arose deep within the Gift. A need to release that
overwhelmed the body, swamped the brain. Span around head and Nectaria at
the same time. A dizzy, spinning need to feed this man, this Warrior. A
feeling of heat started in the tip of its tail and spread rapidly through
its whole body.

It didn't glow, for this was the antithesis of glowing. It seemed to suck
the light from the room into its body for a moment, and then, then an
explosion of lust, of desire, of need! The Warrior jerked and began drawing
the nectar into his stomach. Began to massage faster and slowly, slowly, he
slid his mouth up the Gift's quill, and the sensations!

It was tickling, it was grating, it was exciting, it was love, fear, need,
want, lust.

And with a final explosion, the nectar rushed along the quill and into the
Warrior's mouth, into his throat. The Warrior, though, had been
overwhelmed. He lay now, mouth still clamped on the end of the Gift's
quill, but the last of the nectar was running from his mouth over the
Gift's belly. He was unconscious.

The nectar had claimed him.

The Gift of the Lost Warrior smiled.

For most of its life it had dreamed it would be in the position of this
Warrior now. But now that it was actually here, this was better. To have
this man, this perfect man, this body, soul and intelligence lying with his
mouth still wrapped around its quill. Lost to the power of the Gift's body,
the Gift's nectar.

This was control. And it needed this control more than it needed the life
Warrior. That was why it was gifted, why it was a Gift. Why its Warrior lay
now wrapped around its sex.  It pulled the Warrior up its body, lay the man
on the pillow next to its own. What dreams they would weave into these
pillows this night! What desires they would tell in the soft gentle light
of the morning! What love they had seen, would see for the rest of this
week.

It smiled and looked down on its Warrior. The man was beautiful. Hair,
blonde, but dark was close cropped to the head. Ears were small and
delicately round and the Gift leant forward and licked at first one, then
the other ear, taking the delicate lobes into its mouth and biting gently
on them. Tail flicking into the one ear while mouth worked with the second.

Eyes, wide set and, when open, the deepest blue. Brows neat and straight
above deep broad eyes. Nose just right and the gift nipped the tip and then
ran its tongue across two pillow lips. Tasting its own nectar as the tongue
wiped the lips clean.

Perfect lips. Pale, soft and beneath, strong teeth. It pushed its own lips
against the Warrior's, forced its tongue into closed mouth and then ran its
tongue across hard teeth and beneath soft gums.

There was a sensuality in this mouth that it needed to explore again,
perhaps when the Warrior was conscious...

Neck was broad and wide and framed the chin. Square, with a dimple just
below the lips and the Gift licked the dimple, pushed tongue against skin
and sucked at the skin of the Warrior, pulled his essence through his
skin. He tasted of salt, of the sea, of the earth and of his sex.

And at the base of the neck, supporting the neck and spreading across to
the shoulders were two strong tendons. The Gift kissed them both, then
followed first one across to shoulder, then down the arm. Kissing elbow,
licking wrist, tail following, stroking shoulder, wrapping around elbow,
the wrist. And the Gift took the fingers of each hand into its
mouth. Sucking, kissing, loving.

And then chest. It was broad and wide, hinting at the girth that would come
once the nectar began its work. This Warrior would rival the Warrior
Graescin in size, and that pleased the Gift. It licked and kissed two erect
nipples, taking each one in turn between lips and then teeth. Tail and
fingers playing with the one nipple as lips, tongue and teeth serviced the
other.

And then tongue and fingers and tail ran down the line at the centre of the
belly. Leading through domes of muscle on each side to the belly button,
the perfect receptacle for the head of the Warrior's Quill. The quill
itself arched from its base up and over the belly, almost pointing the head
into the belly button, as if it had been designed to receive it in just
this way. The perfect resting place for the perfectly shaped head.

A bubble of pre, or post, sex lay at its tip and this was delicately licked
by eager tongue, then mouth closed over the head and slipped down the whole
quill, as the Warrior had done just moments before for the Gift. Again, it
tasted its own sex, but this was now mingled with the sweat and secretions
of the Warrior and the combination of their juices was more beautiful than
the juices of either one alone.

The Warrior was under the spell of the nectar now, but even as he took his
lover down his throat, the Gift knew they would do this again, and next
time when the Warrior was in control...

Balls, tight, round and rolling slowly as they worked their magic and began
to refill ready for the next round of sex. Warriors had hair on their heads
and on their balls, nowhere else. And the hair on Chedda's balls wrapped
around them delicately, soft as feathers. He lay his head next to the
Warrior's quill and watched for a while as he stroked the balls with the
tip of its tail, watching them roll gently at the ministrations of tail tip
and fingers.

And then thighs, large, skin rolling in waves across taught muscles. The
Gift ran its tongue from just behind the balls down each leg to the knee
then back up again. This man was meat! And his meat belonged to the Gift of
the Lost Warrior. He bit the inside of each thigh then, drawing blood just
where the balls rested against the top of the legs.

This was his man and this mark showed its ownership!

Calves leading down, round and long to feet, slender and soft. Toes,
suckled, wrapped in lips and teeth, tail flicking between each as mouth bit
at each nail. The Gift smiled. It had never needed to love like this
before, but this Warrior demanded attention and he wanted to be oh so
attentive!

He pushed the Warrior over onto his back, then bit and licked at
Achilles. Sucked and licked up succulent calves to the back of the
knee. Then thighs leading to buttocks. Globes of softness, pale against the
darker skin. Soft when they looked so hard. The gift pushed its nose and
tongue between the buttocks and sniffed, licked, sucked then bit at the
glory that lay beneath these mounds of flesh and muscle.

There would be a time when he would bring his Warrior to ecstasy
here. Maybe soon.

The Gift slid forward, tongue and nose running along the small of the back
and then up the spine. Kissing vertebrae, following the line of muscle from
central back across shoulder and around to chest.

Beautiful.

Sexual.

And neck again, firm, wide, strong. And the Gift nuzzled the Warrior's
hair, turning the man so he lay on his back once more. Hands ran across
chest, fingers tweaking nipples while tail wrapped around still erect
quill. The Gift slid up onto the Warrior, took his quill into the Prostatae
and rolled around the sex of this man. The Warrior would not release while
he was under the control of the nectar, but his body would still be
aroused, still pleasure the Gift.

And it needed this pleasure.

Needed this man.

He was sex, reduced to nothing more than his sex, but that was what the
Gift was at the moment as well. Together they were Soldesha, lust. Together
they were two into one.  The prime resolved.

A hunger stirred in the Gift's belly and it pulled itself slowly and
reluctantly off its Warrior. The professor had warned of this. The Warrior
would eat nothing but nectar for the rest of this week, but the Gifts would
have to eat, and eat regularly if they were to supply all the nectar their
Warriors would need.

At the end of the week the Warrior would be addicted to the Gift and the
Gift would be merged with the Warrior.

Love to love.

Sex to sex.

Soul to soul.

Body to body.

Mind to mind.

****

"And?" The Gift of the Lost Boy smiled as the Gift of the Lost Clan came
into the room. "What is it like?"

"As if you don't know!" Lost Clan laughed. "I have never felt anything like
it! It was explosive enough when he first made love to me, but when he took
the nectar! I could have died then and been the happiest person in the
universe!"

"Truthsaying!" Lost Boy said, then handed over a plate of meat to his
friend. "Major fuel shortage now, though!"

"And that is truthsaying! I could eat all of this and then some!" Lost Clan
said as it took the plate and helped itself to a roll of meat from the
dish.

A door opened and the Gift of the Lost Warrior came into the room.

"Welcome back to normality." Lost Boy smiled.

"How intense was it for you?" Lost Clan asked through a mouthful of bread.

"I can't even begin to explain." Lost Warrior smiled. "I take it you two
are happy as well?"

"Happy?" Lost Boy laughed. "I have never felt like this before, lom!
Never!"

"Here." Lost Clan said passing over a plate of meat to Lost
Warrior. "Eat. You are going to need it."

"And we have a week of this!" Lost Warrior said, taking meat from the plate
and wrapping it in some bread.

"How lucky are we?" Lost Boy laughed. "A week of solid bezzie and the best
food this side of the Palace of Sunrises. What more could we need?"

"The Professor said they had put aside two beef-ties for this week." Lost
Clan said. "I reckon I could eat them both myself. Is it just me or are you
ravenous too?"

"I feel like I haven't eaten for a week!" Lost Warrior said through a
mouthful of food.

The juices from the meat it was pushing into its mouth were running down
its chin.

"Only two beef-ties?" Lost Boy replied. "We may have to put in an extra
order!"

They were silent then as each gorged themselves on the food before
them. When the table was empty and in ruins they settled back onto the
cushions. The Gift of the Lost Boy lay on the cushions, stretched out on
its back, while the Gift of the Lost Warrior and the Gift of the Lost Clan
leaned against each other for support.

"Our sleeping beauties don't know what they are missing." Lost Boy sighed,
rolling onto its side. "All this food..."

"But they get nectar." Lost Clan pointed out. "Lots of nectar!"

"Truthsaying!" Lost Boy laughed rolling back onto its back. "I didn't
expect there to be that much! When I was not gifted there was never that
much!"

"I thought my Warrior was going to drown!" Lost Warrior said, and they all
burst out laughing at the image that created in their minds.

"Have you looked around this place yet?" Lost Clan asked after a moment.

"Haven't been out of my room yet..." Lost Warrior smiled.

"I have." Lost Boy said, pulling itself to its feet. "And you've just
reminded me of something! Come on!" It said, reaching down and grabbing the
hands of its friends, pulling them to their feet.

"Too full!" Lost Clan cried.

"I think you'll like this." Lost Boy laughed as it skipped down the
corridor in front of them.

"Make him stop being so energetic!" Lost Clan pleaded with the Gift of the
Lost Warrior.

"Apart from beating him senseless with a dirty food plate, I don't how I
can!"

"I heard that!" Lost Boy called.

It had disappeared into a room at the other end of the corridor from the
dining room. The other two Gifts pushed open the door and stepped into a
large airy and bright room. Windows lined two of the walls with a large
fireplace at the other end. It was what stood against the other wall that
brought them up to a halt though.

On the other wall was a huge bed, and the Gift of the Lost Boy was
currently lying in the centre of it, lost to the size of the bed.

"How good is this?" It asked, stretching out arms across the bed and not
even reaching the sides.

"What would you use this for?" Lost Clan asked as it fell forward onto the
bed.

"I can guess." Lost Warrior laughed as it too lay back on the bed.

The three of them lay in the middle of the bed in silence.

"No!" Lost Clan suddenly said sitting up.

"What?" Lost Boy asked.

"I know what you are thinking!" Lost Clan said. "You want us all here with
our Warriors!"

"Why not? Everyone keeps telling us we are together. They've given us this
bed..."

"And it could be fun." Lost Warrior said, sitting up on its elbow and
looking across the bed to Lost Clan.

"No!" Lost Clan blushed. "Both of you? I... I can't!"

"Why not?" Lost Warrior asked. "It's not as if we are going to swap, just
be together."

"Like we should be." Lost Boy added.

"But... no!" Lost Clan laughed. "I've only just got used to the whole
bezzie thing! But this is like an orgy!"

"No." Lost Warrior said. "It is right, can't you feel it?"

"I can." Lost Boy said. "As long as I get the middle."

"Stop it!" Lost Clan said. "I can't do... that in front of you two!"

It climbed off the bed and went over to one of the windows. It looked out
onto the palace gardens, across to the Cloister that ran along the south
side of the Silver March.  "You did it in front of what, at least ten
Warriors and their Gifts?" Lost Boy pointed out. "And you didn't know any
of them as well as you know us two!"

"Come on." Lost Warrior smiled. "I'm not going to agree with this one on
everything." It added, running its tail around the top of the Lost Boy's
head, "But I do agree with this. We should be together with our Warriors."

"But..."

"What?" Lost Boy asked.

It stood up and went over to the Lost Clan and pulled it back towards the
bed, pushing it down into the middle, between itself and the Gift of the
Lost Warrior.  "I..." Lost Clan whispered as the Lost Warrior pushed it
back onto the bed.

"Do you think Sadath would mind?" Lost Warrior whispered.

"At this stage of the game he is going to be so desperate for more nectar
that he would do anything!" Lost Clan admitted.

"There you go then!" Lost Boy laughed. "Come on, I'd much rather be in my
ecstasy if I knew you two were in ecstasy next to me!"

"Me too." Lost Warrior said. "What about you?"

"I... yes." Lost Clan sighed. "Why else would they put this room here if
they didn't want us to use it?"

"Precisely!" Lost Boy smiled. "I need you two, jen?"

"And I need you two." Lost Clan replied. "It's just that this is all new to
me! I come from a backwater region. Sex was always behind doors!"

"We know." Lost Warrior laughed. "We were there too, remember?"

"And you can stay in the middle, if you want." Lost Boy laughed. "I quite
like this side of the bed."

It rolled onto its back and stretched across the bed.

"What are you doing?" Lost Clan asked.

"Imagining what it will be like with Selah here." Lost Boy said.

"And?" Lost Warrior asked.

"It's good." Lost Boy sighed. "Jax good!"

Lost Warrior rolled onto its back and laughed.

"Listen to us!" It laughed. "We sound like dumbstruck virgins!"

"Hey!" Lost Clan smiled. "That's me you are talking about!"

They laughed, then all rolled into the middle of the bed, pulling
themselves into a hug with the gift of the Lost Clan at the centre.

"I need you two." Lost Boy whispered.

"We all need each other." Lost Warrior agreed.

"Just promise me you aren't going to sidle my Sadath while I'm sleeping!"
Lost Clan laughed.

"Promise." Lost Boy smiled. "Besides, I've got one of my own now!"

"And me." Lost Warrior said.

They lay there for a while, all glowing in the centre of the great bed.

"He's stirring." Lost Boy said after a moment. "I'm going to wake him and
bring him here."

"We'll go and wait for ours then." Lost Warrior said.

The three of them slipped off the end of the bed and went to their
different rooms.

Half an hour later and the Lost Warrior led a dazed Chedda into the room.

"Where are we going?" The Warrior whispered, arm around his Gift's
waist. "Oh." He smiled as he saw the bed and the others wrapped around each
other on it. "Hi guys!" He said as the Lost Warrior pulled him onto the
bed.

There was a writhing of bodies then. Warrior on Gift, Gift around Warrior
as they all let the hunger that had been kindled in the Silver March
overcome them again.

The Gift of the Lost Clan lay beneath Sadath who had slipped his mouth and
tongue out of its own and was now kissing down its chest. Licking at its
quill, fingers probing Prostatae eagerly. And the Lost Clan's tail was
wrapped around Sadath's neck, then slipping down his chest and playing with
his quill and then balls.

Sadath slipped between Lost Clan's legs and his quill pressed gently at the
Prostatae, slipping slowly and languidly inside. Now they both knew what to
expect this lovemaking did not need to be hurried.

The Gift of the Lost Boy sighed and slipped off his lover. Selah pulled the
Gift under him and then pulled the Gift into a kiss. Tongue pushing into
and then stroking the Gift's mouth. Their tongues wrapped and their bodies
pulled together tightly, Warrior quill rubbing up against Gift quill and
both of them flushing at the sensations this brought them.

Without a word Selah began kissing his way down Lost Boy's chest and Lost
Boy's tail wrapped around one of Selah's wrists, pulled his hand away from
its Nectaria and down to the Prostatae. Selah smiled and began to massage
the opening to the Gift, then slipped fingers inside.

And then he positioned himself, quill replacing fingers as he pushed his
sex into the Gift and the Gift pulled the Warrior closer into it, bodies
synchronising as the movements of sex overcame them.

The Gift of the Lost Warrior picked up its Warrior with arms and tail. The
Warrior had been lying on his side next to the Gift, kissing and licking
his face and neck. The Gift positioned him on top of its body, and for a
moment they both lay there, Warrior pressing down on Gift, eyes staring
into eyes.

Then Chedda slipped his hand down the Gift's body. It wrapped around the
quill, massaging this for a moment before it began massaging the Nectaria
slowly. The Lost Warrior's tail wrapped around Chedda's neck, then ran down
the centre of his back making Chedda squirm in pleasure as the talon in the
end of the tail scratched across vertebrae.

The tail slipped between the Warrior's buttocks then and began to push at
the man, the talon finally entering the Warrior just as he pushed his own
quill into the Gift. They timed their movements then, the Gift pushing into
and out of its mate while the Warrior pushed into and out of his love.

As the sex began to overtake him, the Gift slipped its tail out of the
Warrior and it moved and wrapped around the tail of the Lost Clan, in the
throes of its own love next to it. A moment later and another tail, that of
the Lost Boy, snaked over and wrapped around the other two.

They were one now.

And then the Warriors peaked and their seed, their juices, filled the
Gifts.

The Lost Boy arched its back as it took the gift from its lover. And then
something happened. There was a twist in its head and for a moment the Gift
was the Warrior. Lost Boy blinked human eyes and looked down on the Gift
that was its love and it knew that Selah was staring back at his own body
through the eyes of the Gift.

Another twist and the Gift settled back into its own head. Selah smiled and
they kissed.

The Lost Clan cried as the love exploded through its body. Of the three
Gifts it glowed the brightest as its Warrior filled it with his sex. And
again, its mind and Sadath's mind slipped out of their bodies. He saw
Sadath as a small boy being sold to the Palace of Sunsets by a
relative. Saw Sadath learning the art of the Warrior and was with him once
again as he fought the Silver March.

And Sadath was with the Lost Clan as it sat frightened behind the cage. Was
with it as it was forced to watch the butchery of its uncle and
brother/father. Stayed with it on that trip to Troubian in the drone and
loved it all over again at the end of the Silver March.

The Lost Warrior began to hum as Chedda filled it with his love. A tune
that was picked up by the other two gifts. It grabbed the face of its lover
and their eyes locked again. Chedda was the Gift of the Lost Warrior and
the Gift of the Lost Warrior was Chedda. Bodies and minds became one.

And then wrapped up in their loves, the three Gifts slipped into their
ecstasy.

****

Back in the Palace of the Green Forest, the Gift of the Sidian Deserts was
woken by a sound. Three voices, three Gifts, singing with one voice. The
sound filled its head and it pulled its Warrior over to face it.

"My love?" Graescin asked, opening his eyes and pulling the Gift closer to
him.

"Love me." Sidian Deserts pleaded, and the Warrior Graescin pulled his Gift
into a deep kiss.

****

In the Palace of Sunsets, the Gift of the Troubled Waters also woke to hear
the singing of the voices in its head. It realised the Second Prime had
been forged and it too pulled its Warrior closer.

"Is something wrong?" The Master Warrior Fedash asked, turning and wrapping
himself around his Gift.

"It has begun." The Gift whispered. "Now you must love me."

Fedash smiled in the dark and pulled his Gift into a kiss, his quill rising
ready to feed its Gift.

****

In the Tower of Gifting, the Professor also looked up from the cells he had
been studying in the microscope in front of him. The voices filled his head
and he too smiled. He had planned for this moment, created the Gifts and
then created the desire for this merging within them.

The Second Prime had arisen. Now the time for his revenge was come.

There would be no more work this night. He wandered over to a window and
looked out onto the palace gardens, at the building nestled between the
trees that contained the key to his future.

To all of their futures.

****

And all across Tare du Maretch, Gifts woke and heard the singing of the
Second Prime in their minds. Or looked up from their work as the singing
overcame them. Each of them understood. For better or worse a power had
been created this day, and nothing would ever be the same again.

Each of them went and sought out their Warrior. As the Second Prime entered
its ecstasy, so every Gift on the planet pulled their Warrior into a
facsimile of that love.

The Second Prime had called to them. Now they would answer with calls of
their own.

****