Binter and Sisska would be well suited to train the Arakite youth. They were Vendari, incredibly huge lizard-men from far away. They were more than a head taller than Azakar, and they absolutely towered over everyone on the ship. Dolanna's head barely came over Binter's belt. They were massive, both in height and in build, and their society was remarkably similar to Allia's people. They lived for combat, but they had such a powerful sense of honor that they would willingly kill themselves before they said something they knew was a lie. Honor was life to the Vendari, and life was honor. Binter and Sisska were Keritanima's personal bodyguards, incredibly powerful and effective warriors to protect someone as important as the Royal Person. They couldn't have found anyone better for the job. Binter alone was an absolute monster in a fight, and when his lifemate Sisska joined in, they became a harmonious mobile natural disaster. They were both huge, inhumanly powerful, and very intelligent and well trained. They didn't rely on brute force, except when the situation favored such crude actions. They knew how to fight at what time, and that was the mark of an excellent warrior. Tarrin was still trying to figure those two out. They had definite personality, but they were so utterly devoted to their roles that it was hard to get them to open up. Binter commonly protected Keritanima, and Sisska protected Miranda, who was Keritanima's maid and a member of her tight-knitted inner circle.

Miranda. Tarrin's gaze wandered to her, where she sat alone, and he again puzzled over her. She was a mink Wikuni, and she was so incredibly cute that it seemed almost criminal. It wasn't the beauty of Allia or the dignified presence of Dolanna, it was just sheer cuteness that disarmed absolutely everyone. Keritanima had trained her as a spy and player of intrigue, so she used her appearance like a weapon. A single cheeky smile was usually enough to make someone start spilling their life story. Something about her sang to him, on a level that he couldn't comprehend, and he had an almost unconscious need to be around her for some reason. It wasn't a romantic attraction, it was merely an interest in her that seemed almost compulsive. She was a serious young woman, soft-spoken and not given to chitchat, but very wise and with a large capacity for others. She was devoted to Keritanima, and it was a friendship, a bond, that Tarrin didn't quite understand. Tarrin's own ties to Miranda were just as confusing to him. He liked her, alot, but he didn't quite know why.

And she sat there, alone, seemingly very comfortable with her position. She wasn't a Sorcerer like Keritanima, Dolanna, Allia, and Dar. She wasn't a warrior like Faalken, Azakar, Binter, and Sisska. She was just Miranda, easy to overlook, but quick to make enemies suffer for overlooking her. Just thinking about her made him feel lonely himself, which was a rare thing for him. More and more, he had been withdrawing from the others. They just didn't understand his pain, no matter how hard they tried to help.

With an ease that stupidified the sailors in the rigging, Tarrin slipped off the yardarm and danced down booms and lines, hopping to the deck using a series of ropes and wooden beams to control his descent. It was an unconscious display of his inhuman grace and agility, a gift from his animal nature. He landed on the deck on all fours, then smoothly rose up to his impressive height and padded over to the little white-furred Wikuni maid without a word. She looked up at him, then she gave him that cheeky smile and moved her embroidery hoop, then patted her lap.

That was the other thing that always sent the sailors around him into fits. With only a thought, Tarrin changed his shape, his body quickly melting and flowing down into the form of a large black housecat. It was another aspect of his Were nature, the ability to assume the form of the animal to which he had been irrevocably bonded. He then jumped up onto Miranda's lap and laid down, kneading at her wool dress with his front paws as she set her hoop beside him and continued her embroidery. Tarrin spent alot of time on the ship in cat form, where his favorite pasttime was to chase the rats in the hold. Captain Kern didn't mind that, but he did mind Tarrin leaving the half-eaten bodies strewn about the ship. The fact that he would eat the rats always made Kern's face turn green, but he didn't understand. Tarrin was a cat when in cat form, and the idea of eating prey was as natural to him as downing a tankard of ale would be to Kern. Besides, rat was rather tasty. Not as good as squirrel, though.

On the deck, Tarrin could now clearly hear Dolanna as she continued her lesson with her students. Tarrin should be there, he knew he should, but studying Sorcery like that seemed a waste of time to him now, and he didn't feel like studying at the moment. He was powerful. In fact, he was so powerful that he couldn't even control his own ability. It would always get away from him, and the power of High Sorcery would rush into him like a flood, threatening to burn him to ash. Nobody understood why this was the case, nor had anyone ever found a way to help him control it. So Sorcery was as dangerous to him as silver, something always right over his shoulder, but threatening death should he try to use it. Over the months, he had grown accustomed to that. Besides, he didn't need Sorcery to protect himself. His Were nature gave him all the weapons he needed. He had to admit that he liked Sorcery. He liked the feel of it, the flow of the magic through him, and the ability to use it to do things that he usually couldn't do. But he was wise enough to keep those thoughts out of his mind. To try now would be inviting death, and Dolanna had expressly forbidden him to even try while they were at sea. A single slip could destroy the ship upon which they travelled, and it was an exceptionally long swim back to shore.

"Fire weaves are commonly called battlemagic," she was teaching her students. "For obvious reasons. Most weaves that are fire-dominated are offensive weaves, but it does have other uses. Just as weaves of other flows can be offensive. Even weaves of Earth can be very dangerous, if you know how to put them together. Fire's most common partner in weaves is Air," she said, holding up her other hand, where another ball of fire appeared. "Air intensifies weaves of Fire, and helps direct and control them. But occasionally, flows of Earth or Divine power take Air's place."

"Does Fire ever get woven together with Water?" Dar asked.

"Of course," she replied with smile. "The most powerful fire weaves include flows of Fire and Water."

"Shouldn't they just cancel each other out?"

"Not always," she told him. "In Sorcery, sometimes what seems to be logical in actuality is not. Sorcery obeys its own rules, Dar." Dar gave her a curious look, but said nothing. "Alright, Dar, copy this weave. Pay attention to your flows, now."

Tarrin almost closed his eyes when Miranda began scratching him behind the ears, but he kept them open long enough to watch Dar's hand become limned in fire, which coalesced into a small ball over his hands. "Very good. This is a basic combat spell, young ones. You throw it, and it will explode against whatever it strikes. The flows of Air allow you to direct it to your target, so it does not require actual skill with throwing."

Tarrin surrendered to Miranda's fingers at that point, closing his eyes and putting his head down, letting her have her way with him. He listened as Dolanna described the mechanics of the weave, how it moved on a thread of controlled air to its target, then detonated its stored energy on physical impact. It was curious how physical contact could ignite magical energy, and he considered it for a while as Dar and Allia practiced hurling the little fireballs over the side of the ship, where the detonated against the cold waters of the Sea of Storms in little steaming puffs. For Allia to get that close to the rail was an accomplishment. Allia was born and raised in the desert, and she had a fear of such large bodies of water. She always stayed as far from the rails as she could, and wouldn't come into the rigging because it made her look at the fact that they were surrounded by water. She did know how to swim, Tarrin had taught her in the Tower's bathing pool, and he felt that she just needed one instance where she had to face that fear, and she would get over it. She wasn't controlled by her fears.