The Gathandrian Trilogy 01 - The Gifting

any more. She has learned ways of keeping him away from the privacy of her thoughts. Since Petran was taken to a place of safety, everything has changed. And, in her new understanding, she has made decisions and met people that her brother knows nothing about.
    Two nights ago, Isabella met with Gelahn. The man other Gathandrians call simply “our enemy”. He is not so. Neither is he a mind-executioner; a belief held for generations, through all the year-cycles he was imprisoned in the city. Though once she thought he was, she has been proven wrong. She has been wrong about many things. Gelahn—see how she utters his name without terror now!—is neither a mind-executioner, nor an enemy. He is, in fact, a friend. A mind-healer, if you like. Simply one who seeks out wrongdoing and punishes it. To cleanse the lands around Gathandria—the Place of the Waters, the Desert, the Kingdom of the Air and the Land of the Mountains, as well as those further afield—is a worthy aim.
    It is Gelahn who showed Isabella that none of those they think are dead are in fact dead. Except, of course, those who harbour evil in their hearts and deserved to die. For the rest, such as her Petran, they are simply waiting. Once the battle is won by Gelahn, they will be returned and all will be as it was. Gods and stars, she cannot wait to see her loved one. Every part of her flesh and mind longs for him to be here once more. Even though she knows he is not dead, she misses his touch, the warm smile in his brown eyes when he looked at her, the way he always smelled of cedarwood from the theatre. The theatre was his life. That and Isabella. And it will be so again, she knows it. Their life here—and the life of all Gathandrians—will be better than it was. Gelahn is a bringer of peace. She will do anything she can to support him.
    This is why two nights before the elders’ Council, Isabella left Johan sleeping in their home, crept through the shattered streets of the city they live in, past the broken-down market and the singing grasses, and waited by the entrance to the Old Meeting Room. It is no longer used. The only government they have since the war began is the elders, and they meet only rarely. They believe they are safest if hidden.
    Gelahn always surprises her. Just as he surprised her the first time she dared to meet him, when she was hot from the sorrow of losing Petran and ready to kill. Or be killed. He changed her mind then. Told her the truth and the mission he is on. It took her a while, but she understands it now. She understands it and she is prepared for it.
    Now, Isabella waits for him. She smells the grass as it wilts away for lack of water. There is nobody left to care for it, and the sky no longer rains. Even the stars seem more distant. Nobody walks the streets. Nobody but her. The comfort of the people’s homes give their minds protection from Gelahn’s wise onslaught. Soon however it will be over.
    A whisper at her ear tells her Gelahn has arrived. Always his mind is the most overpowering part of him. When she turns to greet him, he is smiling.
    Gelahn is not what you would expect a so-called mind-executioner to be. He is not tall or physically strong. He does not frown or raise his voice. He is slightly-built and talks little. His eyes hold all the mysteries of the night, and around him shimmers something enticing, something dark. He is also very beautiful. This is a gift he uses, but Isabella does not blame him for it.
    Now, like her, he is dressed in black. Johan thinks she wears black for Petran but she doesn’t. Not any more. Why mourn for the still living? She wears it because she is one of Gelahn’s. He is wearing the pendant he always wears—a small silver circle—and carrying the mind-cane. It, too, is black and silver, and the carvings on the top are similar to the pendant. It is the ancient artefact that focuses his powers. He is never without it. In fact, to their knowledge, it is the only one left since the wars began. Gelahn does not form alliances with others of his ilk. Essentially, he works alone. He commands; he does not collaborate. Though for the purposes of their glorious new world, sometimes he chooses to pretend so.
    As Isabella waits for him to approach her, the cane quivers and sparks in his hand. Her heart beats faster—one touch of the artefact could kill her, but Gelahn smiles and shakes his head. With him, she is safe. Always. With him, she has no further need for pain or