Mind Over Psyche by Karina L. Fabian

Miscria, had he discovered “it” w as Tasmae.
    Tasmae wasn’t the first. I knew that , he scolded himself after he’d navigated the narrow hall to the open platform that overhung the compound. The view was stunning, and he wished he could distract himself with it. Elbows on the low wall, he buried his face in his hands and closed his eyes. Besides, no one could have put all my suggestions in place in five years. The medics, the weaponry, the fortresses. But five thous and years?
    Yet after his operation when he’d forced her out of his mind, blocked her altogether, she had turned right around to Call him again. Hours for her, but over a wee k for him.
    Time is relative and irrelevant. The Calls must come base d on need.
    He took a deep breath, making himself relax as the information unknotted in his mind. Gardianju, the first Miscria. Generations followed, but not all spoke to him. Most spent their talent holding the world together.
    But what does that mean? He shook his head.
    Most held the world together, but when Kanaan had great need, the Ydrel blessed the Miscria with its presence, gave it knowledge—to save lives, to protect the Kanaan, to fight the invaders.
    The compulsion comes when Barin shows itself in the sky. When Barin outshines the moons, the Ydrel retreats and th e Miscria…
    The Miscria what? Tasmae, what? Deryl dug his fingers into his hair and pulled, trying to co ncentrate.
    Pain. Madness. Raging at the invading planet. Drawing strength from others, like psychic vampirism.
    No.
    Plants, animals, people fall ar ound them.
    No, p lease, no!
    One thought consumes.
    Please ! Stop it!
    GO AWAY!
    â€œDeryl, you a ll right?”
    â€œNo!” Deryl shouted and spun, pushing with his mind. His eyes flew open.
    Joshua had staggered and grabbed the low wall to regain his balance. “Hey! Deryl, what is it? Are you a ll right?”
    â€œI, I’m not sure.” He fought to control his br eath. “I—”
    â€œWell, get it together,” Joshua hissed and jerked his head toward the young man just coming through the door. “Someone wants to meet you.”
    â€œRight,” he said, running his hands through his hair, brushing off the last of the visions. He had to be missing something. He took a breath, made sure his shields were in place, and greeted Ocapo with the same salute Tasmae had given him.
    Ocapo rushed to him and enveloped him in a hug.
    All the fearful memories of Gardianju and the other Miscrias were washed away in waves of gratitude, and new images filled his mind. Ocapo’s people, the Bondfriends, alone, too few to defend themselves against the Barin, but doomed to be apart from the Kanaan. Until the Ydrel taught Tasmae how they c ould help.
    Tasmae coming into his village, speaking to his chiefs. As she outlines her plans for the Bondfriends, the excitement grows, and others gather around the fire. A few, like Ocapo, are chosen to join the Kanaan in the fight against the invaders; in return, the Kanaan armies would defend the tribes. Trust grows between the tw o peoples.
    Ydrel, you saved my people. You’ve returned us to our brothers. Ocapo squ eezed him.
    Deryl looked over Ocapo’s shoulder at Joshua.
    Joshua grinned. “Nice to know someone appreciates you, huh?”
    Deryl found himself grinning back; still, the credit went to Tasmae, not him, and he told Ocapo so. Ocapo released him with an unembarra ssed grin.
    â€œEach Miscria learns something different from the Ydrel,” the Bondfriend said aloud for Joshua’s benefit. “But if it had not been for you, Tasmae would not have thought to co me to us.”
    â€œOkay.” Deryl shrugged. He didn’t know what else to say. He desperately wanted a few minutes alone with his own thoughts to get his bearings, but didn’t think that would happen anytime soon. At least for the moment, he was with someone friendly to him, friendly and non-th