said simply.
"No."
"Close your eyes," Ceithin insisted quietly. "I want to show you something."
Darach narrowed his gaze suspiciously. Was this going to be like the jokes his big brother had played on him when he was a child?
"Trust me."
Darach didn't trust this Cariad as far as he could throw him, which, given his extra height and muscle weight, wouldn't be far. Still, something in his voice and expression invited him to trust, and his Fire didn't seem disturbed by whatever was going on. So he closed his eyes.
"Can you see me?" Ceithin asked.
" My eyes are shut. " Idiot. He didn ' t say the word out loud but he heard Ceithin sigh.
"Ignore what you see with your eyes. Let your Fire loose. Track me." His voice sounded fainter, as if he moved away slightly, and Darach had prickles of apprehension skittering along his spine. Breathing deeply, he settled his curiosity and emotions so he could let his Fire wander undisturbed. It uncoiled from his spine, traveling through his veins, sparking on his skin, pushing insistently in him. In theory, he knew what he needed to do. He needed to let his Fire have free rein. As Ceithin had said, let it loose.
What Darach didn't want to admit to anyone, least of all to one of the Cariad, was that, apart from his pre-Fire training and his pathetic attempt at magik in the prison, he hadn't really explored his capabilities.
He winced as Ceithin encouraged him, if calling "get a move on, youngling" counted as encouragement. Cautiously, he allowed his Fire to move to his hands, the warm touch reassuring. He could see the blue behind his closed eyes and it was fascinating, prisms of sapphire and diamond ice, white so pure it hurt to focus on it. Then, as it expanded and he was able to picture the low cabin, an answering tendril of red touched him, creeping into a corner of the cerulean vista in his mind. The color touched him and tapped, as insistent as the man who controlled it.
"Follow me, Darach. This way."
His body moved, his legs stiff. He stumbled, taken by surprise. Was his Fire guiding him? He tensed, resisting, and his Fire sparked brightly. Even his Fire was pissed at him. Breathing deeply of the clean night air, he concentrated on knowing his Fire wasn't going to lead him to the edge of a cliff.
He made his way forward for a time, his hands extended in front of him, his eyes tightly closed for every step. At last, when he realized his Fire wouldn't lead him astray, he started to relax. The crimson bleeding into his own color glowed deeper, brighter, closer. Abruptly, he realized he could actually feel the heat of it.
Violet was the blended color. For the first time since Eoin had died and Kian had left, peace began to trickle into him. He had been so alone, so on his own, his only family a brother who was never there. But until his and Ceithin's colors blended, he'd kept from himself how truly lonely he'd been. Suddenly the scarlet swallowed all of the blue and panic slipped in where only calm had sat before. Desperate, he opened his eyes, blinking at the sudden change from interior fireworks to the inky black of unlit night.
Ceithin stood in front of him. Gone was the all-too-familiar smirk or smug expression Darach had come to expect. The Cariad looked different. Tired. Shocked? It was difficult to tell. A sensation tugged at Darach, low in his stomach; he was growing aroused, his dick at half mast and uncomfortable in the confines of his clothes.
Clearly, the Fire connection had some kind of weird effect on a person's body. He swayed on his feet, consciously forcing himself to stop leaning towards Ceithin. He was not feeling sexual attraction to Ceithin Morgan. He just wasn't.
"What did you see?" Ceithin asked finally, and Darach swallowed.
"My Fire, blue, then yours, the red, and then violets and purples so vivid—"
"White?" Ceithin interrupted. "Did you see white?"
"You can't actually see—"
" Darach, for Annwn sake. "
"White in the blue, like shards of glass or
"No."
"Close your eyes," Ceithin insisted quietly. "I want to show you something."
Darach narrowed his gaze suspiciously. Was this going to be like the jokes his big brother had played on him when he was a child?
"Trust me."
Darach didn't trust this Cariad as far as he could throw him, which, given his extra height and muscle weight, wouldn't be far. Still, something in his voice and expression invited him to trust, and his Fire didn't seem disturbed by whatever was going on. So he closed his eyes.
"Can you see me?" Ceithin asked.
" My eyes are shut. " Idiot. He didn ' t say the word out loud but he heard Ceithin sigh.
"Ignore what you see with your eyes. Let your Fire loose. Track me." His voice sounded fainter, as if he moved away slightly, and Darach had prickles of apprehension skittering along his spine. Breathing deeply, he settled his curiosity and emotions so he could let his Fire wander undisturbed. It uncoiled from his spine, traveling through his veins, sparking on his skin, pushing insistently in him. In theory, he knew what he needed to do. He needed to let his Fire have free rein. As Ceithin had said, let it loose.
What Darach didn't want to admit to anyone, least of all to one of the Cariad, was that, apart from his pre-Fire training and his pathetic attempt at magik in the prison, he hadn't really explored his capabilities.
He winced as Ceithin encouraged him, if calling "get a move on, youngling" counted as encouragement. Cautiously, he allowed his Fire to move to his hands, the warm touch reassuring. He could see the blue behind his closed eyes and it was fascinating, prisms of sapphire and diamond ice, white so pure it hurt to focus on it. Then, as it expanded and he was able to picture the low cabin, an answering tendril of red touched him, creeping into a corner of the cerulean vista in his mind. The color touched him and tapped, as insistent as the man who controlled it.
"Follow me, Darach. This way."
His body moved, his legs stiff. He stumbled, taken by surprise. Was his Fire guiding him? He tensed, resisting, and his Fire sparked brightly. Even his Fire was pissed at him. Breathing deeply of the clean night air, he concentrated on knowing his Fire wasn't going to lead him to the edge of a cliff.
He made his way forward for a time, his hands extended in front of him, his eyes tightly closed for every step. At last, when he realized his Fire wouldn't lead him astray, he started to relax. The crimson bleeding into his own color glowed deeper, brighter, closer. Abruptly, he realized he could actually feel the heat of it.
Violet was the blended color. For the first time since Eoin had died and Kian had left, peace began to trickle into him. He had been so alone, so on his own, his only family a brother who was never there. But until his and Ceithin's colors blended, he'd kept from himself how truly lonely he'd been. Suddenly the scarlet swallowed all of the blue and panic slipped in where only calm had sat before. Desperate, he opened his eyes, blinking at the sudden change from interior fireworks to the inky black of unlit night.
Ceithin stood in front of him. Gone was the all-too-familiar smirk or smug expression Darach had come to expect. The Cariad looked different. Tired. Shocked? It was difficult to tell. A sensation tugged at Darach, low in his stomach; he was growing aroused, his dick at half mast and uncomfortable in the confines of his clothes.
Clearly, the Fire connection had some kind of weird effect on a person's body. He swayed on his feet, consciously forcing himself to stop leaning towards Ceithin. He was not feeling sexual attraction to Ceithin Morgan. He just wasn't.
"What did you see?" Ceithin asked finally, and Darach swallowed.
"My Fire, blue, then yours, the red, and then violets and purples so vivid—"
"White?" Ceithin interrupted. "Did you see white?"
"You can't actually see—"
" Darach, for Annwn sake. "
"White in the blue, like shards of glass or
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