“What?” said Krysta, staring at him with sudden confusion. “What is it? What’s wrong?” This is wrong,” said Sorak. “I cannot do this.”
“How can it be wrong when it feels so right?” asked Krysta. “Besides, you were doing just fine a moment ago—”
She came up dose to him and put her arms around his neck. Sorak took hold of her arms and gently but firmly removed them. “Krysta, please... you do not understand.”
She stepped back away from him, her puzzled expression turning to one of anger. “What?” she demanded. “What do I not understand? I understand that a moment ago, you were willing... more than willing, eager, and now this sudden change of heart comes upon you inexplicably. Is it me? Am I not good enough for you, now that you know who and what you are? Is that it? Is a former slave not a fit consort for a king?”
Sorak shook his head and sighed wearily. “That has nothing to do with it,” he said. “I have already told you what I think of this idea of yours about my being some sort of mythological elven king. It is utter nonsense. I reject it.”
“Then what?” she demanded. “What is it? Tell me I did not excite you! Tell me that you did not want me!”
Sorak sighed. “You did not excite me,” he said. “I did not want you.”
“Liar!”
“As I said, you do not understand. You did not excite me. It was not I who wanted you, it was not I who became excited over new and unfamiliar physical sensations. It was Kivara.”
“Who?” said Krysta. “What are you talking about?”
“Kivara,” Sorak said. He took a deep breath. “Kivara is... another entity who inhabits my mind and shares my body with me. She is not me. She is a different person.”
Krysta gaped at him. “She?”
“Yes, she. Kivara is a female. A halfling female.”
Krysta stepped back another pace, utter confusion on her face. “What are you telling me?” she asked. “Are you trying to say that you think you are a... female?”
“No,” said Sorak. “I am male. But Kivara is a female, as are the Watcher and the Guardian. My other aspects are all male.”
Krysta shook her head. “You are trying to confuse me.”
“No. I am simply telling you the truth.”
“Then... you are insane?” Krysta asked with disbelief. “Is this what you are trying to tell me?”
“Perhaps I am insane, in a way,” Sorak replied. “Most people, knowing what I am, would undoubtedly think of it that way. But my mind is not unbalanced, Krysta. It is merely divided into a multiplicity of different personalities. At least a dozen that I am aware of. That is one of the main reasons why the villichi took me in. They have encountered this sort of thing before, though it is exceedingly rare. They call what I am a ‘tribe of one.’”
Krysta stood, shaking her head, staring at him with astonishment. “But... how can that be?”
“The villichi believe it comes about in childhood,” Sorak explained, “through suffering and abuse that is so intense that it becomes unbearable, and the mind seeks refuge by splitting apart, creating new and separate entities out of itself, personalities that are as real and fully manifested as I am. That is why I took a vow to remain celibate, Krysta, because I am not merely one male. I am at least a dozen different people, some male, some female, all sharing the same mind and body. And not all of them see things alike, as Kivara has just unfortunately demonstrated. I am sorry. I was not present when it happened. I was... sleeping. Had I known, I would have stopped it before it even began. Please... forgive me.”
Krysta stared at him with a stricken expression. “You are really telling me the truth?” she asked.
“I would not lie to you,” said Sorak. “There was someone once... a young villichi female, for whom I cared more than I can say. We grew up together as brother and sister, though we were not related by blood. In time, the feelings between us became stronger, grew into love... a sort of love, I suppose. I, Sorak, loved her, at any rate, and I still do. But we could never consummate that love. The Guardian is female, and could not make love with a woman, nor could the Watcher, who is also female. In this, my male and female aspects exist in a conflict that cannot be resolved.”
“But... you said this Kivara is a female....” Krysta began, looking confused.
“Yes, but Kivara is a child who does not truly understand. To her, everything new that pertains to the senses is exciting, and she cannot help but to explore it. However, she grows bored very quickly. If not stimulated by some novelty, her attention tends to wander.”
“But... it was you I kissed!” Krysta insisted. “It was not some... girl child in my arms!”
“No, not if you speak of the body,” Sorak said. “The body is male, of course. But the intelligence guiding it, at that particular moment, was that of an immature female. I was not there, Krysta. I was not present. It was not me. I do not even know how it all began. I shall not share the memory unless Kivara or the Guardian bestows it on me.”
“You mean... but how... the Guardian?”
“She is the one who seeks to maintain a balance in the inner tribe,” said Sorak. “It was the Guardian who controlled the dice the first night that I came here. I, myself, possess no psionic skills.”
“It makes my head hurt just to think about it,” Krysta said, staring at him wide-eyed. “How can you live this way?”
Sorak shrugged. “I have never known any other way to live,” he said. “I have no memory of what I was like, or even who I was, before this happened to me.”
“How terrible for you!” said Krysta, with sincere concern. “If I had only known...”
“What difference would it have made?” asked Sorak. “Even now, you do not fully understand. You may grasp the idea of it, but you could never truly know what it is like. No one could. That is why I must remain alone. Yet, in another sense, I can never really be alone. I am a tribe of one.”
“And that is why you seek the Sage,” said Krysta. “You hope that he may cure you.”
“I seek the Sage for the reasons that I gave you and
Rikus,” Sorak said. “I do not know that I can be cured, or even if ‘cure’ is the proper term to use under the circumstances. I am not sick. I am merely... different. Nor am I sure I would wish to be any other way.”
“But... if the Sage could help you, would you not accept his aid?”
“I do not know,” said Sorak. “If I were to become simply Sorak, what would become of all the others? What would happen to them? Where would they go? They are a part of me, Krysta. I could not let them die.”
“I see,” she said, looking down. “I think, perhaps, I understand.” When she looked up again, her eyes were moist. “Is there nothing I can do?”
Sorak smiled. “You have already given me two things that I prize above any material gain or comfort. Your friendship and your understanding.”
“I only wish that there was—” A horrible scream cut through the stillness of the night. “What was that?”
Sorak was already moving. “It came from outside.”
“The gatekeeper!”
They ran through the dining room and into the empty gaming hall. Sorak drew his sword. Even as he did so, the heavy front door burst off its hinges and three ghastly apparitions came stumbling through. They were encrusted with dirt, and rags hung from them in tatters, as did rotting flesh. Empty eye sockets, writhing with worms, turned in Sorak’s direction. The breeze blowing through the doorway carried the rank stench of decomposing flesh into the room. Krysta blanched. “Undead!” she gasped. They look very dead to me,” said Sorak. The rotting corpses stumbled toward them.
“Guards!” shouted Krysta, running for the stairs.
All three corpses ignored her and came straight for Sorak.