Take it away, Tracy!

Today’s stop on the Feel Real Fantasy blog tour celebrating the completion of the Rys Rising series by Tracy Falbe introduces readers to Tempet, tabre champion of Nufal.

Tempet is a member of the Drathatarlane Sect of magical tabre. He has a twin sister Alloi. They are devoted to each other, and they are considered two of the most talented and powerful tabre in Nufal. Tempet’s magic manifests itself mostly through physical feats. Although he is capable of landscanning, spirit projection, and casting various spells, he mostly applies his magic to fighting with weapons. Originally he was a Bozee champion. Bozee is a ritualized combat among tabre that is a popular spectator sport for tabre and humans throughout Nufal. But when the war with the rys explodes, he applies his skills in an arena of true mortal danger. Tempet loves being tested in this way. He knows that he must defend his homeland from the rys through direct confrontation. Others will battle with long distance magic but he will be toe-to-toe with their enemies. Deep down he believes that he was born for war even if he regrets the death and destruction it inevitably brings.

I must confess that Tempet was always an elusive character for me to write. I experienced him mostly through his relationship to his sister Alloi. To her he was steadfast strength and unfailing love. Tempet combines the ferocity of a killer with pure and supportive love. Alloi is much more emotionally sensitive, and he is very protective of her. Very little in his heart competes with his loyalty to his sister. All else is trivial. Although he thrives on combat, his personality is not particularly dark. He can also maintain his focus throughout the hardest circumstances.

When the Eschalam finally spoke, the others could tell that he had reached a decision. “Alloi, I must ask something of you that will not be easy,” he said.

Trying to hide her apprehension, Alloi said, “Of course, my Master.”

“I need you – and only you – to stay the winter in Kwellstan instead of coming home to Drathatarlane with your family, as would be right. You must do this so you can continue to monitor the rys,” the Eschalam said.

The dismay of the twins fluttered through their translucent spirit projections.

“Do not separate us, my Master,” Tempet said. “What reason could you have for this?”

The question was audacious, but the Eschalam chose to overlook the transgression. “Tempet, forgive me. I know that it must pain you to be apart from your sister, but the time has come to advance your training. Although you and your twin together are more powerful than others, this is also a weakness. Both of you will realize your fullest potential if you spend some time apart. Then you will see how you rely on each other. Trust me. This must be done, and it must be done before we urgently have need of your powers,” he explained.

The snarl of displeasure was clear upon the image of Tempet in the Pen’dalem, but Alloi was able to look past her fear and hear the greater meaning of her master’s words. “My Master,” she said. “Do you foresee that we shall…war with the Kwellstan?”

They were awful words, and Alloi regretted for the first time that there was a rivalry between the Sects. It had always seemed so normal before, but, if it threatened the peace that they all enjoyed, then it was not so right.

“War with Kwellstan is not certain, Alloi,” the Eschalam assured her. “But the Drathatarlane are committed to regaining the governance of Nufal. Obey me.”

The twins were dismissed, and Tempet returned to his body seething with outrage. “I will not do it!” he declared and smacked the wall of the meditation chamber.

Alloi wrung her hands. She was upset too, but she recognized the importance of her assignment to monitor Dacian.

“Tempet, perhaps there is wisdom in his words. We do rely on each other. We could learn more about our powers if we were apart,” she said.

“No!” Tempet said sharply. He cast an angry spell at the door and broke it from its hinges. He stalked from the chamber, and Alloi knew that it was useless to speak with him now.

Then the luscious warmth of Alloi’s shielding magic sheathed him in power, and Tempet kicked Dacian’s legs and clipped him across the jaw with the shaft of his bitaran. The rys King stumbled and Tempet swung hard as the rys’s sword fell low. Dacian twisted away and the tabre’s hammer head passed over his falling face, nicking only a little chunk of skin from a cheekbone.

As Dacian hit the ground, he cast a spell at Tempet. His shielding spell reinforced by Alloi protected him, and he brought his hammer up for another blow, but the ground beneath him shook and then erupted in jagged shards of rock. He tumbled and a spear of stone sliced his arm.

The magic of Onja pummeled him as he scrambled off the broken ground. In the persistent glow of mixing spells, he saw Dacian withdraw. Tempet tried to follow, but the storm of Onja’s spells was relentless.

Exhausted and bleeding, Tempet felt the arm of his father slip around him. The attack spells abated, and, in the sudden calm, they assessed the dark landscape with their senses. More rys were withdrawing and regrouping up the road.

Finally blessed by a lull in fighting, Tempet and Havax staggered away in search of Alloi and the other females. They found them emerging onto the road. Some were being delivered by militiamen on horseback. Alloi arrived on foot. She ran to Tempet and embraced him.

“Dear Sister forgive me,” Tempet cried.

“Whatever for?” Alloi said. She could imagine no blemish on his conscience. That they were alive and holding each other relieved her beyond expression.

“You needed me. I felt your distress,” Tempet murmured. They had been a Bozee pair since being old enough to train, and leaving her without proper defense felt like a terrible lapse.

“Times are difficult,” Alloi understated.

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