Nyx - A precocious Ailuran often concerned with being inherently good and all the appearances that go with it.  Usually sullen or in some way melancholy as she often feels misunderstood or unappreciated, even by her family.

Elmiryn – A child born of noble blood.  Though she was made to live by such standards, the girl took after her mother in that she never cared nor believed in the conventions of noble life.  As a result, she can be a little too honest sometimes, is very tomboyish, and has an odd sense of humor.

Quincy – A shy girl, uncoordinated, and easily made to cry.  Never leaves her home unless forced.  She has a fascination with stories and loves hearing tales of heroes and heroines unburdened by the world. She is Hakeem’s quiet shadow.

Hakeem – Quincy’s older friend.  Is rough and tumble and has a quick temper.  He thinks Quincy is weird but finds her strangely attractive.  He dreams of what adult life is like to a great extent, and tries very hard to emulate his father, thus making him more serious than is typical for his age.

ARTIFACTS OF CHILDHOOD

Act I

“The Reflection”

The Manard House knew something of an awakening when summer came around, because the first week of the month brought about a heavy surge of activity with the weeklong Ortian holiday.  The servants bustled putting up fresh curtains, lining the archways with golden wreaths, hanging up sun discs with beveled faces, and sprinkling potpourri along the windowsills. Three days into the special week, Warner was in his study making political arrangements for the new year, Brianna was trying to find some peace in her bedroom, painting, and Elmiryn was being fitted for a new birthday dress in her bedroom.  She found it hard not to fidget.

“Lady Elmiryn, I mean it, I don’t want to poke you.  Please be still.”  Her attendant, Julianna, was a pretty twenty-something with rich caramel colored hair that had streaks of bright gold here and there.  Her freckled nose wrinkled as she pinned up a bunch of baby blue silk.

The girl gave a melancholy sigh.  “Why must we do this now? Can’t we do this next week?”

“You know very well that your seventh birthday will have passed by then!  Don’t you want to look pretty for your party?”

“Don’t I always look pretty?” The girl asked guilelessly.  Her mother told her this so much that she had started to take it as a fact–and as most facts went, it lost its charm on Elmiryn.

She watched as a dust mote floated towards her face.  Her eyes crossed as it came too close for her to follow.  She heard Julianna laugh at her, and the girl gave a happy smile.  She loved making adults laugh.

“Yes, lady Elmiryn. You are very pretty. Now unless you’d like to be a very pretty pincushion you’ll mind my warning and cease your fidgeting!”

The next day, when Elmiryn was making her dolls swan dive off her dresser into a deadly vat of broccoli soup (smuggled in from the kitchens), her mother, Brianna, came into her room, Julianna and two slaves, a Santian and a Fanaean, behind her.

“Elle, we need to decide on a hairstyle for your birthday party…and what is that? Soup? What have we said about bringing food into your room!” The girl’s mother was dressed in a slate gray dress with jeweled shoulders, the cut opening at the front in an hourglass shape to reveal creamy lace. Wrapped about her waist was a glossy forest green ribbon that tied into a rose-shaped buttress in the back. An abalone clip pulled her warm brown hair back, and her ears held matching earrings. The woman’s face broke into her wide smile, and she sat on her daughter’s bed. “Oh, nevermind that. Come here, sweetest!”

Elmiryn would have protested, but Brianna knew that the youth was less likely to resist her request than Julianna’s. The girl pouted, but without an objection, she went to sit next to her mother, whilst Julianna stood off to the side. The slaves, each carrying a silver tray bearing hairdressing accessories, set their burdens onto the dresser. Then they turned in unison, bowed, and quietly left the room. The child attendant sat at the floor of her house mistress, and carefully she reached over and took up the white-bristled silver brush, which had a mirror fixed into the back of its head. The attendant held the mirror-side to the girl and her mother, and Brianna pondered the reflected image.

“What do you think, dear? What style do you wish to see on your birthday?”

“Can’t we just comb my hair?” Elmiryn mumbled, her lip pouting further.

“You know that isn’t an option. Come! Would you like to see braids? A bun? We can put flowers in your hair–now wouldn’t that be just darling?”

“Okay. Whatever you want me to look like, mother.”

Brianna frowned in the reflection. “Oh, Elmiryn! You make this such a chore! Not many little girls your age are given a chance to decide their appearance, you know.”

“She’s right, lady Elmiryn,” Julianna said earnestly. The girl’s eyes fixed on her attendant’s pretty face. “Take another look at the mirror. Pretend it’s magic, and whatever you imagine will appear. Now think of all the things you like–from art, from the stories we tell you, from what you see in the city–and think what would you like to see?”

Elmiryn’s frown deepened, but her lower lip pulled back to a contemplative curve. Her little hands went to the sides of the mirror, and her cerulean eyes lit up with thought. The girl took a deep breath. “I see…”

When the girl trailed off, her mother patted her knee. “Yes, Elle? What do you see?”

“I see branches sprouting out of my head!” Elmiryn giggled out. “And they’ll bloom into pretty red flowers!”

The attendant tried and failed to contain her laugh.

Brianna gave a suffering smile. “That’s…nice, dear. But I’m afraid we’ll have a little trouble growing that within less than a day, let alone getting your father’s approval for such a thing!”

Elmiryn’s pout returned full force. With a heavy sigh, she said, “Fine then. I see a ponytail.” She didn’t even look at the mirror this time.

Julianna gave an enthusiastic nod. “A ponytail is good, milady! Very elegant! Very pretty!”

“If you want flowers, we can make a crown for you, sweetest. But not red, I think. White is more appropriate.”

Elmiryn just let out another sigh.

Then the day of her birthday came. A small ball was held at the Manard estate, and the newly-turned seven-year-old was the center of all the attention. She sat aside her mother whilst Warner sat on Brianna’s left. Their head table was decorated with silver and gold linings and generous amounts of confection. Across the room was a long table weighed down with presents. Elmiryn stared at them longingly.

“Sweetest, your gifts won’t up and walk away,” Her mother murmured to her. “Why don’t you go play with your cousins?”

“Because they’re stinky,” Elmiryn said primly.

Brianna blinked down at her daughter. “Now why do you say that?”

“They play boring games and think they can bully me. Can’t I just open my presents?”

Her mother frowned reprovingly. “Now Elle, you know your cousins love you very much, and they came all this way to celebrate your birthday! Just play with them a while, sweetest, and I promise that the time will pass quickly.”

“But mother—”

“Elmiryn,” Warner said, his eyes managing to cut across at her even as he did not move his head. “Do. As. Your. Mother. Says.”

Elmiryn shot up very straight at her father’s look. The last time he’d looked at her that way, she wasn’t allowed to play outside for a week. “Yes, father!”

With that, the little girl slid from her seat, her puffy baby blue dress hissing with each step she took. Her eyes gave one last longing look toward the presents before they flickered to her four cousins gathered near it. There was Roark and Lydia, asymmetrical twins with pumpkin colored hair and wide slate-gray eyes flecked with gold. Then there was Berian, the dirty blonde with pickle-green eyes with red sauce on his white night shirt. And finally…

“Hi Adara…” the redhead mumbled as she approached her eldest cousin. Adara was nine-years-old and had long wavy brown hair.

“Hullo baby cousin,” Adara said, giving her best adult smile.

Elmiryn resisted the urge to scowl. “What are you playing?” she asked in as neutral a voice as she could manage.

“Family. Roark and Lydia are the babies. Berian is the father. You can be the mother if you’d like.”

At this, the seven-year-old blinked. “What are you going to be?”

“I’m like a director. Have you ever seen a play? I tell everyone what they’re supposed to do.”

“But don’t the father and mother say that?” Berian interjected sullenly. He was just a few weeks younger than Elmiryn, and the girl actually liked him quite a bit. They both liked racing and wrestling, and once, the boy had eaten an earthworm, which the girl still giggled about to this day.

Adara tilted her head back and gazed at him coolly. “How old are you, Berian?”

The boy drew himself up. “Six-and-three-quarters!”

“Well I’m nine-and-a-half, so I know more about Family than you do! That makes me director.”

Berian’s shoulders slumped, defeated.

It went without saying that Elmiryn hated Adara. The older girl was bossy, snobby, and vindictive. It didn’t help that once her cousin had snitched on her when the redhead tried to sneak to a party being held at the slave quarters. That was the time Warner had barred her from the outdoors, all thanks to Adara.

Roark and Lydia, who wore matching white and black outfits with silver ribbons, exchanged looks. Elmiryn did not dislike the twins, but they were very much followers and had little to contribute to any game save to just nod their heads. Nothing was duller than two human dolls for playmates.

But Elmiryn wasn’t going to give over the night.

“Well it’s my birthday tonight, and I say, I’m the director,” she declared with chin thrusted out.

This earned her a sharp glare, but the others seemed to perk at the idea. Berian stepped forward quickly, grasping Elmiryn’s shoulder. “Yeah! It’s Elmiryn’s birthday! We have to do what she says!”

Adara huffed. “Well what does she want to do then?”

Elmiryn smiled, showing all teeth. “We can’t play Family without good toys…”

____________________________

Within a few minutes, the children had managed to escape the watchful eyes of their attendants under Elmiryn’s leadership. Giggling at the audacity of their slipping away from supervision, the group followed the birthday girl from room to room, collecting items, before they finally ended in Elmiryn’s bedroom. There, they laid out their prizes on the girl’s bed sheet: a wooden toy horse, a small porcelain doll, a monocle, a pretty pink ribbon, and the silver mirror brush.

Elmiryn handed these out to everyone, but kept the brush for herself. “Okay, now we all have what we need!” She gestured near her toy box. “This is the children’s room,” she pointed toward her large bookcase, “That is father’s study,” she pointed at her small vanity dresser, “And this is mother’s room.” She waved the brush through the air. “Dinner will be ready soon! Everyone has to get ready. I’ll come around so that you can tell me what you want to look like.”

The children went off to their respective spaces, but in a few minutes, they were intermingling and slipping into their make-believe roles with excitement and giggles. Even Adara seemed to forget her earlier power struggle in favor of playing the haughty mother. Berian grumphed and harrumphed a lot, smoking a pretend pipe and squinting at everything through his monocle—a very accurate depiction of his—for his actual father had died years ago. The twins cooed and rolled around, playing with Elmiryn’s toys.

The redhead took to her role of “director” with relish.

“Roark, you have to pretend you’re a doggie. Of course children do that! I did when I was a child! And Berian, put your finger under your nose. There! Now you’ve got a mustache! Adara, look Lydia is crying. Stop being a bad mother and go make her feel better!”

When enough time seemed to have passed, Elmiryn announced it was dinnertime. She came around with her silver brush mirror and held it up to everyone. “Now what do you see yourself wearing tonight?”

Berian announced he was going to wear a cloak of snails. Roark and Lydia decided they too wished to wear a cloak of snails. Berian complained that the twins were copying him, so they changed to wearing diapers and golden crowns with big fat jewels. Adara whined that they were ruining the game. Elmiryn snapped that she wasn’t even trying to be a mother, just a snob. This made the older girl declare that they were all stupid children in real life, and she didn’t want to play with them anymore.

And just like that, the fun was over.

As her cousins left to return to the festivities, Elmiryn stayed behind to hide her stolen “toys” under her bed. A clear voice reached her from the doorway, and the girl froze, her face turning red. Turning, she saw Brianna and Julianna standing there—her mother with her hands on her hips, and her attendant with one hand over her mouth. Standing behind them with downturned heads were her cousins.

Snitches! Elmiryn thought with clenched teeth.

“Sweetest, come here please,” her mother said ominously.

The girl sighed and obeyed. Gripped in her hand was the silver brush.

Brianna raised an eyebrow at her as she reached down and took away the brush. “Elle, what, may I ask, were you doing with all those things?”

“Playing Family?” she mumbled.

“Are these things yours to play Family with?”

“No…”

Brianna just shook her head with a slight smirk. “Sweetest…” With two fingers, she gave the girl a smack on the forehead that stung, and then pointed down the hall wearily. “Just get back to the party before your father sees.”

Elmiryn didn’t need telling twice. She ran, her cousins in tow, back to the guest hall where the partygoers were just settling in for their first serving of dinner. The redhead glared at Adara. “You snitched, didn’t you?”

“Did not!” The older girl snapped back. She pointed at the girl’s face. “It was your mother’s mirror brush that got us caught! She was looking for it to freshen up before dinner was served!”

Elmiryn pouted, but said nothing further. The rest of the evening went well enough, and Warner never heard of her daughter’s antics. That night, the girl received as presents: a new doll house, a rocking horse, many new dresses and accessories, and a young horse, which she excitedly named “Scabby” due to how the filly’s ruddy brown coat reminded her of the scab she had on her left knee (but this was vetoed by her mother and father both, who quickly renamed the animal, “Rose.”)

That night, when Brianna was tucking Elmiryn to bed, she stroked the girl’s hair and said with a smile. “Sweetest, mother has one more present for you. Are you ready?”

Her daughter gave an eager nod, all appearances of sleepiness fleeing her, and her mother laughed. From beneath the bed, she pulled out a slim white box, and held it out to the girl. Elmiryn took it and opened it quickly. She gave a small gasp.

Inside was her mother’s mirror brush.

“I know you liked it, so I wanted you to have it, Elle.”

Elmiryn gave a huge grin, hugging her mother. “Mama, thank you!”

Brianna laughed, hugging her daughter back. “Mother, not Mama…but you are welcome, Elmiryn. I love you very much.” She pulled back, holding the mirror side up to her daughter’s face. “Well? It’s a new year for you! You had fun playing Family with your cousins, didn’t you? And what role did you play? I think I see a very lovely wife in the future!”

The girl just blinked at her mother. “That’s not what I see.”

Her mother gave her a puzzled look. “Oh? Then what do you see?”

Elmiryn smiled at her mother as if she were being silly. “I see me, mother. Just Elmiryn.”

Brianna laughed again, a full and beautiful sound. She thought the girl was just being overly literal to make herself seem more mature. She kissed her daughter goodnight and left her to sleep. Elmiryn settled into her covers with the mirror brush clutched to her chest, more secure than she had ever felt before, because in her heart, she knew she had answered the very question her mother had meant.

What do you see?

I see me, the girl thought with a sleepy smile. Just me.

____________________________

Act II

“The Watch and the Sword”

He scratched at the dried mud on his knee and felt the day’s heat reach its peak.  He was seated on a wicker basket with ashy legs stemming out straight as though daring anyone to walk over them.  His feet were like old man’s feet because he went around barefoot, despite his mother’s nagging to put on shoes.  Hakeem didn’t care.  He liked feeling the soil between his toes.  He wanted tough feet like his father’s. Ba-Kafeel was so powerful that the boy was certain none would dare cross him.

“Habari-kuz, Hakeem.”

The boy looked up, his dark eyes meeting clear azure. “Habari, Quincy.”

The little brunette was dressed in a simple cream dress, her fine hair teasing her face as the wind played with it. Gripped in her petite hands was a rusty sword—a gift from her father, which she rarely parted with and which everyone tolerated because she could hardly lift it let alone swing it.  It was also notoriously dull, failing to make an impression even on the softest of wood. She made circles into the dirt with her toes. Quincy used to wear shoes until the village children teased her for her tender feet, and then she did away with them. It was not a little frustrating, waiting for her tender feet to catch up when they walked through the jungle sometimes. Even after a year, she was still tender-footed.

“Play?” the girl mumbled shyly, her eyes on the ground.

Hakeem looked past her to see Tobias poking his head out of their hut down the trail. At the boy’s notice, the man quickly pulled out of sight. He gave a crooked smile. “Play,” he returned with a nod.

In the months since Quincy had first arrived in Kimbia, she had yet to become fluid in Fanaean. She knew enough to communicate basic needs to the villagers, but she could hardly keep a conversation. Luckily for her, Hakeem was interested in learning Common, and so they shared a hybrid of the two languages.

The boy held up a finger and slipped into his family’s hut. Inside, Ma’Nguele was preparing dinner for the day, her face sweating over a large pot of iguana stew. Seated on the ground near the fire was his father, who frowned over scrolls. In his native tongue, he said to them, “Mamu, Babu, I am going into the jungle with Quincy.”

Ba-Kafeel looked up from his work. “You are going into the jungle?”

“Yes, Ba.”

“Wait.” His father stood, his cloth skirt slipping over his powerful thighs. He strode past Ma’Nguele to a small satchel behind her, from which he pulled out a small item. “You remember how I taught you to keep time, yes my son?” He held out his hand, and from it slipped a silver watch on a chain. “I want you both back here by the fifth hour. The suns are deceitful this time of year, and the night has become dangerous with the new jackal threat.”

Hakeem took the watch. “Yes, Babu. We will be back by the fifth hour, then.”

Ba-Kafeel smiled at his son and gave a rub of his curly head. “Have fun, and be safe.”

As the boy turned to leave, he heard his mother call after him, “And if you see any, bring back a bunch of plaintains! We are low.”

“Yes, Mamu,” he said over his shoulder.

Putting the watch chain around his neck, he went to Quincy and jerked his head toward the jungles to the north. “Let’s go,” he said in Common.

Together, the two children traveled through the village, where they passed other children playing. Hakeem waved to some of them, but Quincy just kept her eyes on the ground, her shoulders even hunching at the sight of some of the others. The boy didn’t blame her, but he didn’t think she helped her case by dragging around her rusty sword. The adults laughed about it, stating, “You always know where little Quincy goes for the line her useless sword makes in the dirt!” As much as Hakeem liked the girl, it frustrated him that such silliness followed him around.

As they left the village proper–the musical weave of Fanaean conversation, and the comforting aromas of stewing meats dissipating from around them–the two children breached the cool jungles. They took to a well-known trail, leading up a hill and past a grove of spiny gora-gora bushes, to a small waterfall.

Hakeem checked his watch. It was only one. Taking it off and placing it on the rocks near the treeline, he immediately ran up the steep hill to the top of the waterfall, his face grinning in anticipation of the jump he was about to make. Quincy watched him go with pressed eyebrows, her hands tightening around her sword’s hilt. Once at the top of the waterfall, the gentle stream flowing about his shins, Hakeem gave a wave. “Watch!” he called out.

With a deep breath, the boy took three steps back, and then with a whoop he did a flip off the cliff edge. He landed into the water with a big splash.

After returning to the surface, Hakeem looked to see that Quincy still had not joined him. He frowned. Normally the girl was backstroking in the water by now. “What wrong?” he asked, spitting water from his mouth.

The girl bit her lip and looked up at the top of the waterfall.

Hakeem’s eyebrows rose and he swam to the shore of the little lake. “Go up?” he asked dubiously. Quincy wasn’t afraid of heights, but she was notorious for getting hurt. The last time she had attempted to climb the steep hill, she had slipped and sprained her ankle.

Quincy didn’t respond. She only went to the hill going up to the top of the waterfall. Then with a grunt, she lifted her sword and stabbed it into the soil. Pulling herself up, she managed to pull the sword out, and though she wobbled dangerously, she did it again. Hakeem watched, fascinated, as she slowly made her way up to the top of the waterfall.

Once there, she looked back at him, panting. Then she grinned.

The boy could feel a warm funny feeling blossom in his chest, and with more excitement than was probably warranted, he cheered and clapped his hands.

Quincy jumped off the cliff with a high laugh, brighter and fuller than any he had heard in a long time.

They stayed and played for hours. The tree cover made it hard to see the passing of the suns. Hakeem didn’t think to look at his watch again until it became hard to see his own feet in the darkness.

“Tai’undu!” the boy cursed. Dripping wet and shivering from the evening air, he snatched the watch from its place on the dry rocks. “Late!”

“Late?” Quincy returned, frowning. As there were no large predators in the jungles near Kimbia, they were used to being able to play even into the dark. But the girl didn’t know about the jackals that had come to the area.

Hakeem grabbed her hand, his father’s watch clenched in his other fist. “Run!” he said.

Together the two children ran through the jungle, their feet skipping over the rough but familiar terrain. Hakeem could see the lights of their home ahead. He picked up his speed, forgetting that Quincy was clumsy and still very tender-footed.

She cried out, tripping on something unseen in the dark. Hakeem lost his grip on her as she fell, and he skidded to a halt. “Quincy!”

That’s when they heard the beast growl.

Both children froze, their eyes wide as they turned toward the source of the sound, which came from amidst a collection of ferns at the base of a mango tree. Haunting eyes glowed from within the reaches of the leaves.

Hakeem tried to move slowly toward Quincy. “Quiet!” he whispered. “Slow!”

The girl said nothing, her eyes fixed on the animal that watched them. Her hands gripped tightly around her sword, and even in the dark, Hakeem could see her tremble.

He touched her arm and tried pulling her up. “Go! Quiet!”

Just as the girl began to get up to her feet, the animal burst forth, knocking both of them to the ground. Hakeem was the one who ended up on his back, and so the beast went to him first, snarling. Quincy screamed, and the boy gave a hoarse yell as he jerked his face away from the jackal’s snapping jaws. He managed to dodge one strike, but in the fraction of a second it took for the jackal to attack, the boy knew he would not be able to fend the animal off again, let alone get free of it.

It was around this time that Quincy hit it in the back of the head with her sword.

The jackal let out a yip, its body going weak just long enough for Hakeem to push it off of him. He scrambled to join Quincy, who was looking at the sword to the jackal and back as if she couldn’t believe what had just happened. The boy was equally impressed, and he stared at the girl with amazement and a strange sort of pride.

Then the jackal’s growls returned, and their attention snapped back to the situation at hand. Hakeem pulled at his friend. “Run! Run!” he shouted, but inwardly he knew the jackal was faster. They were dead. He should’ve listened to his Babu. He should’ve kept his eye on the time…

There was a loud rumble as the earth trembled beneath their feet. Both children stopped, struggling to keep their balance. Within a few seconds it all stopped, and both children looked to see that the jackal was gone, the soil churned and raised where it had once stood.

Tobias stepped out from the cover of trees, his face a displeased white mask in the darkness. “Children, come.”

Ducking their heads, they did as they were told.

Back at the village, both Hakeem and Quincy received lectures from their respective caregivers. The girl was sent to bed without supper and the promise of extra chores in the coming days. The boy was put over his father’s knee and switched.

The next day, Hakeem limped over to Quincy’s hut to find her outside, sullenly skinning potatoes. Lying next to her feet was her rusty sword. Still around his neck was his father’s watch, and Hakeem was very conscious of it. He had five minutes to say what he needed to say before he had to do his own chores.

“Habari-kuz, Quincy.”

The girl looked up at him, startled. “H-Habari, Hakeem.”

He smiled at her. “Thank you.”

She blinked at him, “For what?”

Hakeem tapped the back of his head. “Sword.” He pointed at it. “Save me.”

“Oh…that…” She shrugged and said, “I don’t know how I lifted it! I was just so scared the jackal would hurt you!”

The boy didn’t understand her words exactly, but he got the gist of her meaning. His smile widened. “Quincy strong and brave.”

Quincy blushed and looked down at her skinned potatoes, but Hakeem could detect the hints of a pleased smile on her lips before he turned to return to his hut.

____________________________

Act III

“N is for Nyx”

Nyx was in the middle of practicing her Common alphabet when Atalo shoved a banana in her ear.

“Koen!” she screamed, standing up so fast that her chair was knocked back onto the floor. Mushy banana bits clung to her hair and she tried to bat these away, managing to get her palms and the side of her face covered in sticky slime. “Ugh, you little monster, what’s wrong with you!?”

Atalo, meanwhile was laughing so hard his face was beet-red. Thaddeus was also laughing from his place in the hallway entrance. “He got you good!”

“This isn’t funny!” Nyx shouted, her eyes teary. “Why doesn’t he do these things to you?”

Her older brother shrugged. “Because I don’t react to him like you do.”

Nyx bared her teeth and whirled on Atalo, her hands before her like claws. “Well let’s see if he likes this reaction!?”

Atalo screamed, his eyes wide, but he was still smiling as he scrambled to dodge his sister’s violent lunge. They ran around the kitchen table, displacing chairs. Fotini came through the door just as Atalo ran for it. He collided into his mother, and Nyx just managed to slide to a halt. With his new refuge found, the little boy clung to the woman’s leg. Their mother stared at them all, a basket of leeks on her arm.

“Sweet Aelurus, can my house not be the host of chaos every time I step away?”

“It’s like this even when you’re here,” Thaddeus mumbled with a smirk.

“And after dinner, when you’re arrogance comes running like water from your ass, do not ask you’re A-ma to help you wipe it, Thaddeus,” her mother said with a sharp look.

“A-ma! You would poison your own son?”

“Poison? Gods no! I was only referring to your tendency to eat like a pregnant pig.”

Nyx laughed as her mother moved around her, the older woman grunting as she dragged Atalo along. The boy, in his stubborn refusal to let go, had wrapped his legs around hers. Thaddeus just held up his hands and backed into the hall, where he was no doubt going to retire to his room until supper. Fotini glanced at her daughter over her shoulder as she set her basket on the counter.

“Now what was the commotion about?” She gave a weary sigh. “I imagine it has something to do with the slime all over the side of your face?”

Nyx pointed at her little brother, who only stuck his tongue in response. “He smashed a banana into my ear!” A thought occurred to her, and she returned to her place at the table, where her Common alphabet book still lay open. Large chunks of banana were on the pages. The girl’s eyes teared up as she stomped a foot. “He got it on my book!”

Fotini massaged her brow with one hand. “Atalo, apologize.”

“Sorry, Koah.” But the boy’s face was lit with an impish smile as he ran off to his room.

“That’s all you’re going to do?” Nyx whined. “Some of the words on my book are even ruined!”

Fotini looked at the girl over her shoulder. “Really? Which ones?”

The girl sniffled back more tears as she pointed at the page. “These ones! The first letters of the Common alphabet and some of the other vowels too!”

“Vow-els? Are those really so important?”

“This book translates Common to Ailuran, of course it’s important A-ma!”

Fotini closed her eyes with a suffering expression. “All right, all right, my little night shard.” She fished into her apron pocket for some coins, then held them out to the girl. “Here. Why not go buy a new book at the market?”

Nyx scowled. “But they only sell Ailuran books!”

The woman let out a sharp hiss and grabbed the girl’s hand. She forced the coins into her palm. “Nyx, enough. A-ma’s head hurts and she’d like to get started on dinner before the next disaster strikes!”

Nyx’s face crumpled and she slammed her fist onto the table. “This isn’t fair! This book was A-pa’s, and you don’t even care that Atalo ruined it! You never care!”

Fotini stared at her daughter, taken aback. “Nyx! That isn’t–”

But the girl snatched the book off the table and was running out the door.

____________________________

“Well, you can say goodbye to your ears, then.”

Nyx stared at her friend, mortified. “You’re not helping Taila. Why would you say something like that?”

“Because it’s true?” Taila gave an unconcerned shrug.

They were sitting on a rock near Taila’s home, the hum of bees comforting in the mild weather. The suns peered around large white fluffy clouds and the breeze was gentle. There was no erduk that day, and they were all glad for a variety of reasons.

“Maybe…maybe she won’t pinch your ears?” Ampelos said, twirling a long piece of grass between his fingers.

The girl smiled at him gratefully. “Thanks, Amp.”

He looked at Nyx shyly before ducking his gaze with a blush. “M-Maybe she’ll just give you extra chores instead?”

At this, Nyx’s face fell.

Taila threw her arm over the girl’s shoulder. “Aw, c’mon Nyx! Your A-ma tried!” The older girl gestured at her friend’s hand, which still gripped the coins Fotini had forced unto her. “You can get a new book with the money she gave you!”

Nyx scowled and slid off the rock. “You can’t replace this book. It was special…” She looked at her book in one hand—the cover was a dull sea-green, the faded title a tired wine-red that said in Ailuran, “Common Alphabet”—and the coins in her other hand. Baring her teeth, Nyx pulled the coins back, ready to throw them out into the high grass when something shiny out of the corner of her eye caught her attention.

Blinking, she turned her head to see Marq coming down the trails from the northwestern hills, his large pack on his back, jingling with trinkets. As he neared, the girl saw his slim face break into his usual haggard smile. “Kitten! It’s good to see you again!” he said in Ailuran. “Have you been practicing your Common as usual?” this he said in Common.

The girl swallowed and held out her book, tears pricking her eyes again. “Hullo Marq. Yes. I try, but stupid brother got food on alpha-bet book. Made ink bad. Can not read some words anymore…”

The elf frowned. “Must’ve been cheap ink to get so easily fouled up! What did he get on your pages?”

“A…how do you say? Anade?”

“Ah. A banana,” the elf chuckled. “Your Atalo I take it.”

“Yes!” Nyx snarled as her friends joined her at her sides, their eyes curious. “He is a cajeck!”

“Nyx,” Ampelos whispered. When the girl looked at him, he mumbled, “Maybe ask the elf if he can help?”

Her eyes widened. “Good idea, Amp!” Returning her eyes to Marq, she asked. “Can you fix?”

The elf merchant blinked down at her. “Ah, I don’t know kitten.”

She held out the coins. “I have money!”

The man bit his lip at the outstretched hand. Then he gave a small shrug and said, “Okay. Give it here.”

Nyx handed him the money and book eagerly, turning the latter to the page where the banana had fallen. Marq looked over it shrewdly, scratching at the paper. After a minute, he snapped it shut and handed the item back. “Nope. Nothing I can do.”

Taila hissed at him, not understanding Common but understanding enough to know the merchant’s meaning. “If he can’t fix it, then he should return your coin, Nyx!”

Nyx looked at the elf imploringly. “Marq can no do anything?”

The man rubbed the back of his head, “Uh. No. No, I can’t, Kitten. I’m sorry.” He thumbed eagerly at his backpack. “But I have more books in my backpack if you’d like to see!”

Taila kicked him in the leg, but Nyx was already walking away, her heart sunk.

—

Nyx pushed her food around her plate at supper, and though Thaddeus, Fotini, and Atalo conversed animatedly, she did not come out of her shell, not even when her little brother moved Thaddeus’s plate of curds beneath his elbow. Quietly, she cleared the table, then retired to her room. Her mother watched her go with a sigh.

Later, Fotini appeared at Nyx’s bedroom entrance. “Little night shard?”

Nyx didn’t answer. She lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling.

She heard her mother slip past her bead curtain and felt her sit on the bed. “Sweet Aelurus…I didn’t have to deal with such behavior from Thad until he turned fourteen at the latest! But then again, I forget how much more mature you already are when compared to him at eleven, so…” she trailed off. A few moments passed, and the woman took a deep breath. “Nyx.” The name came with a great rush of air, and Fotini shook her head. “I’m sorry I was insensitive about your A-pa’s books. I know they mean a lot to you. I’ve talked to Atalo about it, and he won’t be allowed near any food unless it’s mealtime and I’m there to watch him eat it.” The woman rolled her eyes. “Gods, that I was born such a wild child.”

Nyx rolled onto her side, facing away from her mother. Fotini looked at her, pained. Touching her daughter’s little foot, she said quietly. “Yes, Atalo is wild, but I love him for his antics, as I love you for yours, my little night shard. I love that you love books and that you are so capable of learning so much. I want you to know that I do care for you and the things you find important, but sometimes we must compromise, yes? It’ll be an exercise for the both of us, kitten.”

The girl looked at her mother. Slowly she sat up. “A-ma. I’m sorry I ran away.”

“You were frustrated and hurt, my love,” Fotini said, smiling as she hugged her daughter. “I will try to be a better mother. I will try, so please forgive me when I fail?”

Nyx turned her face into the woman’s neck. “Okay…”

The next day after breakfast, Thaddeus opened the front door, intent on checking a squeaky window from the outside, when he came across something on the front step. Frowning he picked it up and came back inside. “Nyx?” he called.

The girl was practicing her Common handwriting from the good pages of her alphabet book. “Yes?” she said, blinking up at him.

Thaddeus held out a small scroll to her, which was attached to a leather pouch. “This is for you.”

Nyx blinked and took the items from him. Opening the pouch first, she was surprised to find it was filled with the same coins her mother had given her the day before. Turning next to the note, she unfurled it and read the shaky Ailuran,

Dear Nyx,

You’re friend was right. I shouldn’t treat my best customer with such shoddy service. I had no right to take your coin when I couldn’t perform the task you wished of me, so here is a once-in-a-lifetime refund! But you know, I went poring over my personal collection of books, and I realized that maybe all it took was a bit more effort from me. So here is a list of the words ruined in your book, alphabetized, with examples in both Common and Ailuran. You’re lucky, kitten, that there was only one page that saw your brother’s terror! Otherwise, I would have had to give you something else for free…perish the thought!

Your Trusty Provider,

Marq

Following this was a short list of words and examples in both languages, as the elf had promised. Nyx was grinning so hard, her face ached.

“What was it?” Thaddeus asked, pulling a chair out next to his sister.

The girl slipped the note into her alphabet book and took up her leather pouch. “Nothing! I’m going shopping!” the girl exclaimed, still smiling.

The soldier watched her go with wide eyes. “Damn, what’s the rush?” Then he sat up straighter in his chair just as his sister ran out the door. “Oh! Hey! You aren’t going to see that filthy elf are y–!” he was cut off as the door slammed shut behind Nyx. Thaddeus let out a hissing breath, his eyes turning onto the note that his sister had slipped into her book. Pulling it close to him, the man opened it, and his eyes were drawn to one thing on the note…

A is for Always, as in, “Nyx will always love her family, and will always be loved in return.”

Back to Six Tales of Arachne

As told by Lethia Artaud

I’m sorry that I’m laughing!  It’s just…I find it strange that you would ask me these things. You see, I was sheltered in a tower for much of my life, and the views I had of the world were all simulated through dreams and thoughts shared between myself and my…um…with Syria.

I saw vast mountain ranges, dark forests, seas of sand, sprawling oceans, and lush jungles, all within the safety of my mind. Did my former mistress actually see these things herself? I believe she did, many of them, as her personal accounts and other external sources would attest. But there were some stories she told that were…so fantastic, even my childish mind found it hard to believe.

One such story, she told me upon the day of my twelfth “birthday”. These were bittersweet occasions every year, because while it was a joyous time for us to celebrate our fated meeting, it was also a yearly reminder of my shrouded origins. For this reason, I was always caught in a fractious sort of joy, and Syria was not a little frustrated by my antics.

So that twelfth year, she said to me, “Lethia Artaud, thou art like the willing fly!”

I replied, “Mistress, I don’t understand. How am I a fly?”

She patted the seat next to her on the bench, just outside our tower. Behind her, the fragrant jasmine bushes filled my senses. Pouting for some reason I cannot recall, I sat next to Syria, and she smiled at me.

“Do you know of the Legend called Arachne?”

Frowning, I shook my head.

Syria feigned surprise. “Oh! My goodness! My sweet girl still has yet to hear this particular tale, hmm?”

I clapped my hands, my pout melting into a grin. “A story! Please tell me! I promise I won’t forget anything you say!”

She took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. “You see, once long ago, I was traveling the deep mountains of the north, unknown by all save the dwarfs, and even their knowledge was piece meal at best.”

To which I jumped and cried, “The Spider died!?”

And then…

…No wait. I skipped a part. I’m sorry! Hold on let me just try to um…remember.

____________________________

The Incident at Gaime

As told by Elmiryn Manard

I’m not Nyx.

I mean, yeah, I bet you’re thinking, “I know that, idiot. Kind of hard to miss the red hair.” But I feel like I gotta say that, since you’re coming and asking this of me. I mean hell, you wanna know about Arachne? How’s this for a story–

A prostitute, a nobleman, and Arachne walk into a tavern—

—What? Aw hey, jokes are stories too!

Oh fine!

…

Uh.

Well.

O-kay.

How about this?

When I was very young, Thendril, my former training master, told me a story. Now don’t get me wrong. He wasn’t the coddling, nurturing type. He told me war stories. Really bloody tales about warriors and champions who fought and sacrificed for greater causes. One day, I griped that all the heroes he talked about were men.

“Then let me tell you of Arachne,” he said. This made me wonder if he’d taken too many blows to the head—Thendril had such nasty cauliflower ears—because after all, Arachne was always the villain in my parents’ stories. “There’s more than one side to a tale,” my training master assured me.

Too often, you hear people bitch and whine about how heroes vanish and no one knows what became of them. Not so, with our little arachnid. Anyone well versed in the history of heavenly champions, and the Legends that rose among them, can tell you where Arachne ended up. That story in Tobias’s book? It’s only one version of a pretty famous event. I mean—it’s a little hard for the world to ignore hundreds of god-appointed champions coming together to kill one mortal. But no one asks where these people came from and who they were before heaven came and shoved a purpose up their butt. In true fashion, no one knows for certain where Arachne came from, either.

I’d like to think I’m the exception to that rule.

I mean, you have to take into consideration my source. Thendril was a war veteran. Thendril was also older than a corpse’s fart. He was a young man when the halfling clan of Tor began their bloody campaign across Talmor in the year 3500. He was born there, in a Fiamman trading fort called Gaime, but was raised as a native son on foreign soil. The Torians nearly overtook the lands surrounding his home. He was barely fourteen-years-old at the time.

The fort had slaves. Fiammans like slaves, I guess. They’re like assorted chocolates to us. Well, Gaime had a pretty exotic bunch of ‘em, because in their midst were Omatts. Have you ever seen an Omatt? They’re ape people—and I’m saying that without irony. They have long grabby tails, wide flat teeth, big lumpy heads, round monkey ears, and long arms. The fort had one in particular, with green eyes and deep violet hair. She was a young girl who refused to speak—ever—even upon threat of beating. After a time, people thought she was simple, and let the matter alone.

As Thendril put it, they weren’t close or anything. This isn’t a tale of forbidden romance, or one of those corny buddy stories. His was just the story of an observer, of a boy who cobbled together accounts from those around him. Maybe some of it was rumor, but my old training master didn’t place too much stock in bullshit, so I trusted what he said.

This is a long introduction isn’t it? See, I’m not a storyteller like Nyx. Thendril was a good one though. He started like this:

On the longest day of summer, the invading Torians could be seen from Gaime’s watchtowers. The men were on edge, because many of them had families back home, and it was said that the halflings could not be defeated. “They’re invincible,” the soldiers whispered furtively. “They say they are blessed by the gods!” And they weren’t exaggerating. Reports kept coming in of Torians being stabbed, only for them to pull the swords free from their bodies with no wound left behind.

Well, Thendril’s father, Hetrius, didn’t want to back down, even after the royal courts back at the kingdom had abandoned them. The Torians arrival was estimated to be about some two or three days. He put the slaves to work, bolstering their defenses and forging more weapons. Thendril’s job was to carry messages between the different working parties.  That was when he saw her.

The Omatt was sitting under the shade of a table, contemplating the chain that hung limp from her neck collar. Her long tail was curled around her, and her small bony body was slouched—or relaxed, however you’d like to see it.  Naturally, the boy was alarmed. He called out to her, and though her round ears flickered to him, she didn’t look up or make to run away. Confused, Thendril ran to get help, and the Omatt girl was locked up again, chained to a heavy stone wall where she was to remain until she was punished.

“Damn strange,” said one of the guards as they walked away. “How’d she get free of her tether? There were no marks on the chains to show they’d been struck, nor any welts on her neck or hands to show that she’d struggled! You think someone set her free?”

His companion answered. “Who on Halward’s plane would be dumb enough to do that?”

While they wondered this, Thendril instead asked, “Why didn’t she run?”

And to this, no one had an answer.

The next day, the boy resumed work as usual, only to hear a shout draw his eyes to the top of the fort’s tallest watchtower.

Sitting there, with hands on knees and her eyes to the horizon, was the young Omatt girl. The guard beneath her was shouting and waving his hands at those on the ground as he pointed up at her, while his partner tried bravely (or stupidly, however you’d like to see it) to climb atop the sloped roof to retrieve the slave. After the man nearly fell, he gave up his effort, and one of the older Omatt slaves was sent to collect the little renegade.

This commotion had been enough to slow down work for the day, and Hetrius did not like this. He was, after all, Fort Commander. With whip in hand, the large man stomped over to where the Omatt girl was being held at the bottom of the watchtower. He ordered her turned around and uncoiled his whip, pulling back for a blow. Then he stopped.

“The back of her shirt,” he said, squinting. “It has been torn, and there is blood on it! You there,” he pointed at the soldier holding the girl. “Is this the slave that had escaped yesterday?”

“Yes, sir!”

“But there are no marks on her back! She should have been punished!”

The soldier was about to respond when his thick brain managed to put two and two together. “I…I don’t know what to say sir. I was there when she was whipped myself!”

Hetrius’s jaw thrust forward and his thick veins bulged. He looked like a livid tomato. The commander pulled back his whip with a scream and let it lash out.

While the Fort Commander’s reaction wasn’t altogether bizarre, it’s kinda important to add that the Torians were now steering their march toward their home. The few women and children at the fort, aside from the slaves, had fled in the hopes of reaching the town of Akii, whilst the men folk worked to buy them time. The Torians were expected to strike the following day, if not that very night. Tensions were high, and little patience was spared over puzzling the mysteries surrounding annoying young slaves.

That night, Thendril stayed up with his father, listening to the leaders as they discussed their options. Morning came without any blood being shed, but the Fiammans awoke to the pants-shitting sight of at least a thousand halflings surrounding their scant hundreds. Hetrius, unrattled, ordered the men to suit up and take their ranks. The armies stared each other down. The Torian leader, bearing the black and gold heraldry of his clan, came riding out onto the field. The Fort Commander rode out to speak with him. Tense moments passed as both forces watched their leaders converse. Finally, Hetrius spat on the ground and rode back at full gallop.

“Ready the archers!” he roared.

The Torian leader had also ridden back to his line, and his frontline infantry readied their spears. Shouting could be heard on both sides as all prepared for what was most likely going to be a massacre.

Then the Omatt girl appeared.

She walked out from among the Fiamman ranks, her collar still about her neck, and her chain, once again, trailed limp along her large feet. Both sides seemed to pause, bewildered by the appearance of this little Omatt just standing clear out into the open.

Hetrius was the first to recover. “Who let her out!?” he thundered.

But she didn’t stop walking, and none went to fetch her. Fluttering about her were the tattered remains of her shirt, barely white and mostly bloody, but there, in the clear morning suns, you could see—

The Omatt’s skin was free of all wounds.

While the Fiammans gaped at her audacity, and the news of her miraculous healing spread amongst the ranks, the Torians were less impressed. The halfling leader spoke to one of his archers, and the man took aim with his bow.  The silence was so heavy, that you could hear the thwip of the arrow being loosed.

But it didn’t hit.

Instead, it just hung mid-air, just before the girl’s face, before fading away into dust—then not even dust. Just nothing. As soon as it vanished, the little girl, who could not have been older than nine, charged toward the Torian forces. The men on the other side seemed too stunned to react. Too stunned, or too scared, however you’d like to see it. Then the leader gathered enough of his wits to call the charge.

Hetrius, in reaction, also called for his men to charge.

But before the forces could meet, the Omatt girl reached the enemy first, and what happened to them was hardly to believe.

She undid them.  Just as she had undone the arrow, so did this little freak unleash a wrathful wave of ruthless power.  All the men around her perished, first becoming dust, and then from dust, nothing.  Their fellows, less in number now, were quick to notice this.  Though they still vastly outmanned the Fiammans, the Torians proved to be shit-eating cowards in the face of death. It was the whole invulnerability thing gone to their heads.

So what did they do?  They ran, of course!

The Fiamman soldiers went out of their minds with joy as their enemy retreated. They threw their helmets into the air, hugged each other, shouted and whistled…but not the Fort Commander and his son. They watched as the Omatt girl stared at the soldiers and their jubilation. Then without a word, she turned and began to walk away, northward, away from Gaime.

“What sort of magic was that?” Thendril asked. “I’ve never even heard of anything like it!”

His father shook his head. “I’m afraid I do not know.”

“She’s walking away. She means to leave for good this time. Why didn’t she just do so before, if her power was so great?”

“Perhaps she didn’t feel like it, like all those times she didn’t feel like being chained up anymore?” Thendril didn’t miss his father’s ironic tone.

“Should I fetch someone to get her, father?”

“No, son,” Hetrius said slowly. He turned his horse and rode back to the fort. “There is no catching a spider in its own web…”

And that was that.

Now, don’t mistake things. Arachne wasn’t called Arachne until many years later, and though she defeated the halflings at Gaime, the Torians went on to resume their campaign across Talmor. They almost took it all too, were it not for the efforts of a different Legend by the name of Toshihiro, who lead the Talmorian city-states in a rebellion that took the halflings down. And with that, my friends, I end the earliest story I’ve ever heard of Arachne, also known in some regions as the Spider of the West. What was her real name? Why did she become associated with the Western world? Well, you’ll have to ask someone else that question because I’m all storied-out.

Unless you’ll let me finish my joke?

So a prostitute, a nobleman, and Arachne walk into a tavern…

____________________________

The Willing Fly – Part 2

As told by Lethia Artaud

Would it bother you much if I skipped forward a portion? I’ve always had this problem with longer stories. Even as a child, it was a challenge reading me a bedtime story, because I would forget how it all started and who was in it. It frustrates me to no end, but I am determined to tell you this now, good or bad.

Well, at any rate, this was some ways into Syria’s narration, but I’ll try to explain as I go. So. The reason I thought Spider had died–

“Don’t close your eyes! Don’t!” Syria cried, as she tried to staunch the flow of blood from the young female Omatt’s head. Dark life matted the Spider’s violet hair, and her round green eyes rolled in their sockets as her eyelids fought a losing battle to stay open.

The guardians of Hudisyg, who had defended the sacred dwarven rituals until the pair of women had stolen them, were bearing down the carved out tunnels, their torches warming the darkness with their blood lust. The Spider’s hands fisted her gray robes, her breath coming in frosty clouds before her face. Their only torch sputtered on the ground, where in the sphere of light, the golden handles of a pair of scrolls winked with the fire’s dance.

“You didn’t have to take that trap for me,” Syria sniffed, trying to keep her shivering in check. “And you call me the idiot.”

The Omatt didn’t respond. In fact, her eyes closed, but she smiled faintly and said, “Web is quiet. Still no flies…” And she went limp, her breath fleeing her.

My mistress—I mean—Syria, was torn. She could either defend the Spider, or she could flee. The question was a pressing one, as at that time, she was not at the power she had become famous for.

But Syria was always sharp, and so she checked to see the Spider’s pulse.

She found none.

With her answer, the woman reluctantly lowered the Omatt to the soil, and whispered, “Thank you. If it were not for you, I would not have found the scrolls! This will help many people!” Kissing two fingers, she pressed them to the Spider’s lips before turning and fleeing, away from the shouts that drew closer.

Thus why I cried, “The Spider died?”

…

Oh! OH!  Wait, wait, wait.

I just remembered!

Can I say that part I had missed before?

Ahem.

This was back on the bench, before Syria had begun her story. Remember she mentioned she’d been searching for something in the northern mountains? Well she went on to say, “I was searching for hidden texts regarding dwarven enchantment techniques—rituals that saw whole groups of dwarves impervious to pain. It was a lost art in enchantment, and I wanted to use it to better treat the wounded.

“Well my search brought me to a lost city, high up in the frosty bluffs. Investigation revealed to me that it was Hudisyg, the dwarven center for magical arts. It was no easy feat getting there, child, but it was soon revealed that the real challenge was in getting out alive!”

I didn’t interrupt, my twelve-year-old body clenched in anticipation.

Syria’s eyes were on the blue sky over us. She was always looking up that way, and it wasn’t until I became much older that I wondered if she were waiting for something. She continued, “There were many traps still active in some of the facilities and temples—acid bombs that ate through metal, spikes that shot up through the floor to impale you, great scythes that came out of the walls seeking to cleave you—and those turned out to be the least of my problems. Hudisyg was not abandoned. There were guardians there, dwarven men laced with some dead magic. They were little more than beasts working under a strict spiritual ban, their minds twisted by the power that had no doubt sustained them for an age. They babbled in ancient dwarven, and their clothes were torn and dated. They hunkered around as apes, but in their hands they clenched dwarven weapons. Can you believe, my Lethia, that such creatures would corner your mistress? I could not sense their thoughts, something of their savage natures escaping my notice so that I was caught unawares.

“They pressed in, and as they did, I saw how runes glowed all along their skin—runes that, in the heat of the moment, I still recognized as Talmorian in origin. Why would the dwarves carve such things into their body? I didn’t have time to answer, of course, because just then an Omatt dropped behind me and struck me in the back of the head…”

…

…Uh.

…I–I’m sorry. I s-seem to have…er…lost it, again.

____________________________

The Stone in Bondage

As told by Hakeem

The Spider? Ah.

I…suppose I can tell you of her.

In my home village of Kimbia, we had little to do with Legends save for two men and an Omatt, who appeared one stormy night in a dreadful storm. Quincy does not like that I tell this story, but it is not her story to tell, it is mine. She was living in another part of the world, you see, so she hadn’t come to live with us yet.

The men were named Jack and Tobias, and they were servants to the gods Njord and Tellus respectively. And the Omatt? The men never named her in my presence, and as I came to understand it, no one knew who her patron was. She volunteered nothing about the matter. She hardly even spoke, in fact, and when she did, it was with a clipped accent that seemed less like a foreigner, and more like a child still learning the proper tones and cadences for speech. She was older than I was—around fifteen, I heard Tobias say—and she was an Omatt. I’d seen Omatts before. Plenty of them had come to Fanaea to trade and explore the jungles. But her green eyes were rare, and they fixed on me beneath a crop of dark bangs, holding me there like I was caught beneath her power.

I pressed into my mother’s soft side, still too young a boy to understand that I had to act strong, like my father. Ba-Kafeel was not the leader of our village, by any means, but he was a well-known and well-respected man in the region. Even so, it was strange that these people, these agents of heaven, came to our hut and not our village chieftain’s.  The two men spoke in our native tongue, while the girl just sat there, watching me.

“Kafeel. It is good to see you again, my friend!” Jack said as he shook my father’s hand over the fire. He was shorter than Tobias and about level with my father, his warm brown hair overgrown so that it flopped into his clear blue eyes. In hindsight, the family resemblance between he and Quincy was unmistakable. Again, she does not like that I say that, but it is true. “We are heading to Santos, but this storm has delayed us! Not a problem for me you see, but I must think of my companions.” Jack gestured at Tobias and the Omatt.

“Perhaps it is a sign of doom?” my father ventured.

“Nay! It is the work of that blowhard, Ludovico, son of Santos and Eate’s fatheaded champion.”

“Perhaps we should be careful in naming the pantheon in the same breath as our curses…” Tobias muttered.

“I will when their novices quit acting as fools!” Jack bit out. He struck his knee, and gesticulated angrily with his other hand. “Do you know that he has sent such storms across the skies that the common folk now believe it is Njord’s doing? What heresy!”

“Has he a reason for it?” Ba-Kafeel asked carefully.

“Delegation,” Jack said with disgust. “He is using his heavenly power for earthly politics, for heavens sake! How much more reviling can one get?”

“It isn’t unheard of, brother,” my father responded with a sardonic smile. “The gods have numerous times been involved in the affairs of man. Your patrons’ protests aside, what makes this any different?”

“He’s being paid for it,” Tobias said with a sad shake of his head. “And those who try to flee Santos and its turmoil are captured as slaves, under the commands of his henchmen!”

Ba-Kafeel frowned. “That is a grave thing indeed! Surely his patron would cast him down in disgrace for such behavior!”

“Aye, one would think. But the gods are veiled in their intentions. We know of our own patrons, but we cannot speak for other gods.” Here Tobias looked at the Omatt, pointedly it seemed, and that was when he noticed her intense focus on me. Blinking, he looked my way. “And Kafeel? Your son? He is up late for a youngling!”

Ba-Kafeel looked my way and chuckled. “This is Hakeem. He is suffering from nightmares.”

The other men smiled as Ma’Nguele rubbed my back. The Omatt smiled at me, and scooted forward, around the fire. I shrank further into my mother’s folds, ready to cry, when the girl held out her hands. From the dirt floor, the sands drew up as if the grains were individually plucked by invisible hands, floating in the air, and over this, her fingers worked like she were manipulating it all. Then the sands melted together, turning bright and hot, and within an instant, they darkened and cooled into the shape of a small stone doll. With a small gesture, the doll rose to her waiting palm, and this she held out to me, her smile still in place.

I took it shyly, my eyes wide with wonder as I looked the stone doll over. It was as though it had been chiseled from a larger rock, with no signs of the sand it had once come from. It was even smooth, and yet chiseled into its base in clean precision was the letters, “X-I-A”. I didn’t know what it meant then, and to this day I still do not. The stone doll had a collar around its neck, from which trailed a chain, and that wrapped around its geometric body to the end of its right leg, where it linked to a large stone. The doll had no features—no face, no genitals, nothing. A faceless slave. Still, its fantastic creation was enough for me to get excited.

I looked at Ba-Kafeel and he gave me an expectant look. Blushing, I said, “Thank you,” in my native tongue.

The girl said nothing, except to grin wider. She stood to her feet, her long tail raised and curled at the tip, and she turned and left our hut. Neither of her companions moved to stop her. Tobias was even grinning.

He said to my father, “Forgive her. She does as she pleases, and likes the weather best when it is fierce.”

And so the three Legends remained with us until the morning, when the storm cleared and the skies were blue. I rose early, stone doll in hand, to stand with my father outside of our hut. My brothers and sisters were still too content to remain sleeping—but they didn’t know the wonder I had seen last night, and I was excited to see more.

“Thank you, Kafeel,” Tobias said, thumping my father’s shoulder. “For the food and the warm beds, thank you!”

My father waved this away. “It is nothing. You have done so much more for me than I can hope to ever repay.” And here he rubbed my head vigorously, like I was the prize.

The Omatt stood apart from the men, her eyes on the sky toward the west, where they would be heading. She must have sensed my eyes on her, for she looked my way, and once more she smiled. She gestured for me to come closer, her ape-like tail swaying behind her. With a gulp, I neared, and she crouched down. That was when I heard her speak for the first and last time.

“When Santos free, he free.” She pointed at the doll and winked. I could only gaze at her, open mouthed. I didn’t understand her, of course, and it was only until after they left that my father translated for me.

We followed the three Legends well outside the village, where there they took off into the sky. Tobias held onto Jack, whilst the Omatt soared into the sky alone, her ascent less like the smooth flight of her companions’, and more like she were pulling and swinging on ropes unseen. She paused, halting in mid-air upside down to look back at my father and me. Grinning wildly, she gave a wave, and flew away.

A week later, the chains on my stone doll were gone.

I never again met the Omatt, for her adventures took her elsewhere, and soon the names “Arachne” and “Spider of the West” began to float to our little Fanaea. But in the years that came, she came to affect my life in ways I hadn’t imagined—in ways that Quincy hadn’t imagined, for her life soon was every bit a part of mine. And do I hate the Spider for all the pain I went through?

…No, I cannot say I share the same loathing that Quincy does, but then again, my wife has many more reasons to hold enmity against the Legend.

I will say, however, that upon the destruction of my village in Kimbia, one of the few belongings I was able to find again was that little stone doll. As I plucked it up from the ashes, all blackened with soot, I felt my breath catch.

The collar and chain were once more around the doll’s neck.

It wasn’t until Quincy and I joined the pirate ship that we learned how the marauders came to find us, and how it was allowed to happen. Once this knowledge became clear, my then future-wife demanded that I throw the stone doll away. I did not, feeling compelled to keep it. Perhaps for a sign. But whether through accident or design, Quincy had lured me off Tulki’s ship, and so it sailed off with my belongings. Among them was the odd little trinket. I do not know what became of it…

Now that I mention it, I wonder if it is still under bondage?

____________________________

The Willing Fly – Part 3

As told by Lethia Artaud

Sigh…well, I’ve got it all again…sort of. What if I just returned to when Syria fled from the guardians, then?

My former mistress could hear the wild dwarves shouting and hollering in excitement as they came across the Spider’s corpse. She didn’t stop, for fear that some of the guardians still pursued her, but with time it became clear that she was no longer being sought. With scrolls in hand, Syria knew that she could unlock the secrets of the ancient dwarven enchanters, but something held her fast.

“I cannot leave her,” she breathed. “I must bury her. It is only right.”

With a resolute nod, Syria returned to the dark stone city.

There she came upon the frost-covered central square, where the Spider was strung up like she were on a web of her own. Ropes held her spread-eagled between two metal spires, where her battered body was free to bleed out onto the icy stones. All around her were the dwarven guardians, their eyes and runes glowing blue in the dark of the buildings. Syria tried to hide behind a low crumbling wall, but she underestimated the intelligence of her foes, for one on patrol found her, and in short order, she was subdued and brought forth. As an enchantress, her only real defense was in psychic attacks, but again, these dwarves seemed immune to all enchantment.

The woman was forced to her knees as one of the guardians came forth with a great sword.

Then the Spider spoke, blood dripping from her pale lips, and everyone gave a great start. “All…flies…here. Thanks…idiot,” she said with a quivering smile. Laboriously, she lifted her head and her eyes flew open.

“You were bait!” I exclaimed, when Syria first told me this story as a child.

The woman broke off, and I shrank beneath her stern gaze.

When I was young, I didn’t interrupt much except for when something absolutely shocked me to the core. Now being sheltered, you’d think I’d have been surprised in such a way all the time, but not so. As a youth growing up, because all of my knowledge of the outside world was second-hand and seen through mental simulations, it felt detached. Not unexciting, but certainly not something that made me jump or squeal as though it were happening before me. I was always aware of that meta-existence, where I seemed to hover impervious to everything I witnessed. And so it was with Syria’s stories, as fascinating as they were.

Argos, on the other hand…do you know that once, when Syria was telling us of the time she was caught by a pair of cannibals, he went running outside to relieve himself because he was so excited? He didn’t quite make it, the poor dear. Oh, he’ll be embarrassed if he finds out I’ll tell you, but he managed to sprinkle a bit as he scurried out the door. Syria wasn’t all that amused, and Argos’s tail remained firmly tucked between his legs until—

Huh?

Oh, I’m sorry. I was telling a story?

…Um…which story was that again?

____________________________

The Battle of Hazmes

As told by Paulo Moretti

Eh…I’m familiar with Arachne, but what I know of her isn’t so nice. That is what you want, I bet. You want something nice. See, Arachne isn’t too popular with the Santian Kingdom. You have all those crem lias and crem dons who spit just at her mention—and it is quite a sight to see a noble person spit! But why wouldn’t they, when she helped lay to waste their biggest source of income? Even the common folk can’t seem to embrace her entirely. She was wild. Carnal. Pér ya. You want nice? I’ll see what I can do.

This story I learned about in my schooling. It took place near my home village of Felico in the year 3509, when my father was a young man. The coastal city of Hazmes was a trading city that made most of its profits from the slave trade. That year, the city’s slaves were rebelling, and certain estadentias—politicians—tried to “help” them by providing them with arms. Now, don’t get me wrong, eh?  I don’t like slavery, but even I could see the baloso move that was. With weapons, the frustrated slaves could act out on their anger and rage. So yes. There were revolts. De reán, me soque, Eate! Even for someone who wanted to stir up trouble, I can’t see how these estadentias could be okay with these slaves hurting so many innocent people.

Eh. But they did. The reason for this was that, in creating a scandal over the slave issue, the plotters could discredit the reigning duke, Signor Niccolò Jutien Mercando, who was slated to be the next Chief of Commerce. There were rumors going around that Ludovico, our beloved champion of Eate, was somehow using his godly powers in less than godly ways to aid in the profit making—profits that hurt the lower class, of which my father, at the time, belonged to.

But champions came to fight this, and they were the agents of Njord and Tellus. But the real interesting one, was a young Omatt who the poor called Arachne. Did you know? It was the Santians who so named her. No one but those champions she traveled with knew her real name, and it was rarely uttered, if ever.

Well, while her fellow champions set about hunting down Ludovico, Arachne was quick to address the problems in the city. First, of course, were the slave riots. Now how could one person, Legend or no, handle such a broad nightmare as this? The slaves made up nearly half of the population of the city, and with arms their disorganization was balanced by their sheer numbers. Noble families were being slaughtered in their homes.

As many of you may already know, Arachne is famed for her inseño brand of flight: The Omatt could move through the air as though she were climbing and swinging along threads invisible to the common man. But what people don’t understand is that these “threads”? They were connected to everything, not just the air.  The world was Arachne’s web, and all she had to do was get a good grip on you to undo everything you were.

Espero. Wait. I know what you’re thinking. But she didn’t kill any of the slaves. Didn’t even take away their weapons. You want to know what Arachne did?

She raised an army.

Not an angry mass of unwashed thousands acting independently of one another—I’m talking about a unified fighting force that struck down the local government. Arachne could see the anger and misguided terror that hung over Hazmes, and with clever fingers, she undid this. Maybe some would call it a form of enchantment. Me? I call it a damn good bit of politicking, ha! Afterwards, none of the slaves felt out of sorts or as if they were coming out of a spell. The Omatt had simply taken their similar wishes, and bonded them into one single goal.

With her at the head of this new army, the random destrucíon ended, and the fight was taken to the duke’s castle overlooking the city.

Niccolò came out with his chamberlain and small guard in all his gold and blue finery—you know, que los crem dons pusieron: The soft velvet cap with the big sweeping feather, a quilted half skirt, the puffy shorts, and tasseled shoulder guards made of gold and silver. With all of this cacare on, the duke raised his polished rapier and shouted. “You demonios overstep your station! Ludovico and the king’s men will come, and they will see you all hang!”

The chamberlain was the only one who survived to translate Arachne’s response. And you want to know what she said?

“You first.”

And he was. The Duke of Hazmes, Signor Niccolò Jutien Mercando, was pulled up by his neck by some invisible rope, along with all of his guard, and the peasant army cheered as the nobles’ eyes bulged, and though they struggled, with time they turned still. The former duke’s chamberlain, Signor Corelo Manuel Duras, was tasked with taking a message to the king. An ultimatum, in fact.

Either the Santian Kingdom outlawed slavery, or the royal family would be overthrown.

An easy decision, yes? Conio, of course not! The royal family was in a compromised position. If they didn’t do as was demanded, they were very likely going to die, but if they did do as they were asked, then they would be losing untold amounts of gold to the Fiamman Kingdom, which, to this day even, still wholly support the slave trade.

Today, this situation simply could not happen—Santos’s army has increased tenfold since that century, and they have become a great deal smarter about security. But then? The common folk made up the majority of the kingdom, and they were not hurt by the slave riots at all. In fact, most joined in. Only the nobles had any reason to object—and why not, when their lives were on the line? It was a very bad time to be rich, then.

These were all things that had been building up to this moment. The Kingdom of Santos is a good example of what happens when the majority of commoners get fed up with the minority of rulers. Our entire government transformed, shifting more power from the monarchy to the people. This all came at the cost of much blood and loss, and yet I’d like to say that the Santian people are not calgatos. We are good people—passionate maybe, but so were our neighbors to the north, eh?

So when the Spider revealed her intention to march on the king, regardless of his response, many defied her. This pissed the lia off, yeah? And in her anger, she destroyed their beloved harbor, before taking to the skies, like a brat throwing a tantrum.

Days later, the champions of Tellus and Njord returned, a defeated Ludovico at heel. When they inquired about the Spider, they learned of her antics, and with great displeasure, moved to set her right. In their absence, the people of Hazmes started to clean up their ravaged city. Much pain and damage had been caused, and compassion appeared to chase away all those mal sentiemants.

The common folk were unprepared then, when the royal army appeared within sight of the city, ready to assert the King’s power once more. With the bloodlust gone and their weapons in disrepair (those people had no idea how to properly care for a weapon, let alone how to use it) they had no chance. Leaders were sent to beg the generals for forgiveness, but they were denied.

“You’ve made your choice, bestiales!” the soldiers barked. “You will all pay for your crimes!”

On the day the army was to march on Hazmes, the common folk made one last plea.

“Please!” they cried. “It was that damned Arachne! She misled us!”

Again they were denied. “Idi’utes! None so lead you when you first began your filthy revolts!”

The archers were readied. The horseback soldiers got into a position for a follow-up charge. The generals took a breath, ready to give out the order—

And the earth split open to swallow them whole. The wind whipped up just as the archers let loose their arrows, fouling their path so that they fell harmlessly, and the riders and their horses were taken up into the air, their bodies turning for a moment in suspension, like something held them fast—

The three heavenly champions appeared, descending onto the battlefield. The Spider’s tail was up and curled at the tip as she smiled at her new prey. With a glance over her shoulder, she once again stirred the courage—or the bloodlust, some might say—of the peasants. Emboldened, the hundreds of thousands of common folk charged forward and attacked the stunned soldiers with anything they had.

“Spider, nay!” The champion of Tellus shouted. “Innocent blood may be shed!”

“None innocent,” she returned before reducing the soldiers and horses in her invisible web to dust.

The battle was long and fierce and horrific, even with the aid of the Legends. Through the whims of the Spider, the champions could not unleash their power as they normally would, and so could not make the battle quick. Many of our people died, but many more were the King’s men. It was a high cost to pay, pér conio, sheer numbers won again!

The king finally answered the Legends and the people of Hazmes—yes, he would outlaw slavery.

The champion of Njord became quite cross with the Spider. “That was what you had us fighting for? We came here for Ludovico, not political agendas!”

The champion of Tellus intervened. “Brother, it was my fault the Spider got such ideas. I merely suggested that in helping the people of Hazmes, we could perhaps help the slaves too. I had no idea this was her intention!”

“And when does anyone know what this lunatic is thinking?”

A Jose Hartrand-Ines Consuelo, the young historian who eventually wrote all of this cacare down into a book so that I could fall asleep on it many years later, overheard this. But the account stops there. Did the Spider receive any punishment for what she had done? No. In fact, it’s said that she split ways with her fellows to go northward, into the Sibesona. And did the people of Hazmes beg the remaining Legends to stay any longer in the smoldering ruins of their city? Definitely not!

I told you, eh?  It’s hard telling a Santian story that’s nice about Arachne.

____________________________

The Willing Fly – Part 4

As told by Lethia Artaud

It…it is difficult to think of Syria, so I suppose that would account as to the reason my memory is shifting so. I hope I am at least in some way coherent?

Ah. Well…where were we before this part?

The Spider striking Syria. Right.

So my former mistress found herself facing down a large gang of these dwarven guardians when suddenly she was knocked to the ground with her eyes bursting with stars and her head throbbing in sharp pain.

“Idiot!” her assailant spat over her before she launched herself at the dwarves, her body like a rogue marionette doll, wheeling free through the air without ever touching the ground. Her hands and feet struck hard as she went. It was almost graceful, in a jarring, neck-breaking sort of way, and Syria was too awed to even get up from the floor. The guardians fled, and the Spider returned to my former mistress, helping her up. The woman tried to read the Omatt’s mind, but found herself blocked, just as with the guardians.

“Who are you?” she asked, disconcerted. “And…and why did you hit me?”

“Because,” The Spider snapped, already walking away.

“Because why??”

“Because you stupid.”

“Wait!”

The Omatt sighed and stopped.

Syria dared to venture closer, her hand still on the back of her head. “But…who are you?”

The Spider looked at her as if she were blowing spit bubbles with crossed eyes. “Spider.”

“Spider?”

“Idiot. Spider. Not say again.”

Syria nodded, eyebrows raised. “Spider. Very well. I am Syria of Albias. May I ask what you are doing out here, Spider?”

Here, the Omatt frowned, and turned away. “Spider’s business.”

Syria clasped her hands behind her back. “Are we perhaps searching for the same thing?”

Spider shrugged. “Spread web. Idiot shook it. Was too early.”

“Oh I intruded on something, did I?”

“Yes. Busy. Go away,” the Omatt coiled her legs as though she were about to leap into the air in that bizarre form of flight.

At this point, Syria confessed to being a bit desperate. She’d been searching for ages for this valuable knowledge, and the guardians were looking to be too formidable for her to handle on her own. So quickly, she blurted out. “I can find a way to stop all pain!”

This made the Spider pause, and she turned to fix her green gaze on the enchantress. “No pain–?”

WAIT! Wait. Okay. So I just remembered how the story…um…ends. Would it hurt if I said it now? No? Yes?

Well I may as well.

So—back to Syria and the Spider captured. I just was at the part where the Omatt had woken up.

She smiled at everyone up in her bondage, her wounds healing and her cheeks flushing with life. It was as though she were coming back from the dead. Then her eyes darkened and threads of light erupted from the center of her chest.  They coursed out through the air, where they each speared lightning fast into the chests of each of the guardians. Beads of light coursed along the threads, from the dwarves to the Spider. The guardians were utterly paralyzed.

“It looked painful for them,” Syria had told me as a child. “Their bodies were rigid, their veins bulging. Their skin started to deteriorate as the light went from their runes.”

“What happened when they were all gone?” I whispered, sitting on the edge of the bench.

She looked at me, her eyes blinking from the fog of memory. “The Spider freed herself, and said to me, ‘Does it hurt?’

“I was confused, naturally, so I asked her, ‘How do you mean?’

“She replied, ‘Your tomorrow.’

“‘And why would my tomorrow hurt?’

“The Spider shrugged at me. ‘Because. You already try to heal it.’ She pointed at the scrolls in my hand before grinning and leaping into the air until she flew out of sight.” Syria frowned at her lap.

I blinked at her. “Mistress, what’s wrong?”

And she replied…

…

…I can’t. I can’t do it.

…It—It isn’t that I’ve forgotten. I just…Now I wish I didn’t remember.

____________________________

Demon Etiquette

As told by Nyx

My brother Thaddeus could be an asshat at times. Before he went off to join the military, Thad had a thing where he would try to scare me if he got bored enough.

He was bored plenty, I assure you.

One night, when I was six, I was in my room, trying to study Common so that I could talk to Marq the merchant elf in his next visit. The elf was one of the few outsiders that came to visit Tosmai, and I was fascinated with the prospect of being able to talk to him. So far, I could say, “Hello,” and “I am the university,” the latter being a very rough translation of, “Och ne erduk,” which actually means, (when translated properly,) “I am a student at school.” With me saying these silly things over and over, it wasn’t hard for Thaddeus to figure out what it was I was doing. Naturally, he had to bother me.

“Kooo-ah…” he called spookily from the doorway.

I ignored him, a tactic I had learned from my mother when our bickering filled the house.

Thaddeus persisted, raking his fingers down the wall. “Koah!”

I pursed my lips but managed to keep my eyes resolutely on the open page of my book. I heard my brother fully pass through the bead curtain. I could sense him hovering behind me and snapped my book shut with a little growl.

I turned to glare up at him. “What do you want, cajeck?”

“I wanted to warn you,” he said with intense gravity in his tone.

“About what?”

Thaddeus sat on my bed and lounged back, a smirk firmly in place. “Did you know filling your head with weird ideas gets bad attention?”

“A-ma said you can’t bother me when I’m reading.”

“Well you’re not reading right now, are you tail sucker?”

My lips puckered. I didn’t even hesitate as I turned my head. “A-maaaaa!”

Thaddeus jumped up, his hands going around my mouth. “Shhh! Cajeck! Do you want the Spider to hear you?”

After I shook off my brother’s hands, I looked at him as if he were crazy. “Spiders can’t hear!”

“Who says?”

“My books! Spiders feel sound, they don’t hear it!”

“You can hardly read those things!”

“A-pa told me, before he left! And there’s pictures—”

“Fine, fine. But what if there was a really big spider that could feel what you’re saying now?” He crossed his arms and bore down on me with a malevolent grin. “What if she’s crawling along her great wide web to come get you?”

My body bunched and my face betrayed my growing unease. “Stop it. You’re lying. There are no spiders that big. My books—“

“Are worth about as much as Atalo’s soiled diapers. I mean, really Koah? What do you need to learn Common for? To speak with that elf beggar who comes rattling through town with his crap?”

“He’s not a beggar! He’s the only person that’s ever nice to me! He gives me candy.”

Thaddeus slapped a hand to his face. “My sister, doomed to be a monster’s meal all for her sweet tooth. You do know what they say about weird men giving candy to little girls, right?”

“Marq isn’t weird.” But even I knew I was being generous at the time.

“He doesn’t ask you to do anything, right?” My brother’s face darkened a bit, in that way I’d seen him get when I told him of how I was bullied. “Doesn’t touch you?”

I frowned, too naïve to understand his line of questioning. “No. He just tries to sell me things.”

“Huh,” Thaddeus said with a nod. The dark look cleared, but his frown remained. With a sigh, the teenager reached over and plucked a book off my desk. It was my book on parlor tricks—the chapter on sleight of hand was bookmarked. “That’s good then. I was afraid she’d have you for sure.”

I gave him a confused look. “She?”

He spared a mild glance as he looked over the book cover. “The Spider.”

“The Spider is a person?”

Thaddeus laughed harshly. “Oh. I don’t know about that.”

“Then what is she?” I couldn’t help it. My brother was always good at leading me on.

“Remember how you learned about the Unnamed One in erduk?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well the Spider is like him, only no one knows who her patron is.”

I frowned. “But don’t champions have to say who they serve?”

Thaddeus offered a genuine smile. “You’re too smart for your own good, Koah.” He ran his hand through his curly hair and returned to sitting on my bed. Leisurely, he began to flip through the pages of my book. “In any other case, you’d be right. But the Spider is different. She has no name, no god, and no parents. Some people think she ate them.”

“She ate her parents?” I cried in horror.

“Maybe. Who knows? What you should be worried about are the facts.”

“The facts?”

“The facts.” Thaddeus leaned in towards me, and I leaned in towards him. He started to whisper with a grave face, “She eats people who stray too far from where they’re meant to be. That includes doing weird stuff, like learning Common to talk to dirty elves.”

I pulled back with a scoff—but my body was shivering. “That’s dumb!”

My brother shook his head emphatically. “No! It’s true!” He pointed a finger over his shoulder. “You remember Terius, the boy who ate snails and thought he could become one some day if he just sat still long enough? He’s gone! I just got back from going over to his home, and the whole place was covered in cobwebs!”

“You’re lying!”

“I swear on my life!” Thaddeus insisted.  “There was nothing but thick sheets of sticky silk all over the daikut!”

“You’re lying, and I’m going to tell A-ma!” I snapped, close to tears and already getting out of my chair.

“Don’t! Do you want A-ma to get taken by the Spider!?”

I froze, my eyes going wide. “Why would she go after A-ma?”

Thaddeus feigned a frustrated sigh and got up to shove me back into my seat. He crouched next to me, tossing my book onto my desk. “Fine. So you don’t want to believe me about Terius. I wanted to spare you this, since you’re such a tail sucker, but if this story will squish the fleas in your brain, then maybe it’s worth it.” My brother cleared his throat and started, “The Spider of the West is a demon, Nyx. She has no home and no loyalty to anybody. Oh sure. For a little while, she worked like all good champions did—helping people, righting wrongs, punishing the wicked…but then her true nature came out, and she took to wandering. She started from the south, in Erminia, where she traveled up through Ginger Weed Country straight to the Ailuran Nation. While she was meditating one night in a forest clearing, three Ailuran boys came across her. They were running away from home, abandoning their families and their duties to find their fortunes with the Albian dwarves in Ulsmel, the northern colony.

“Seeing the Spider there, none knew what to do. They’d never seen someone like the Spider before. She was an Omatt. An ape person. You’ve seen a picture of them right? Long grabby tails, long arms, round ears? Right. Anyway, these boys had grown up together, and so they were very close. So close, in fact, that each relied on the other to complement the things they lacked when faced with a challenge. That’s why Alcae, the boy of strength, bravely stepped forward first.

“’What are you, little thing? And when you’re done answering, would you please move out of the way?’

“’No. Boy rude,’ the Spider said. She didn’t open her eyes or move from her spot. ‘Will not.’

“’You are in Ailuran lands, creature! You must answer!’

“The Spider’s eyes opened and the air stilled. Her eyes glowed green in the dark. ‘Boy came upon me. Who is he?’

“’I am Alcae,’” Thaddeus made a show of thumping his chest with his fist. “’And these are my brothers in friendship, Eolus, and Cato.’

“’Hmph. Thou art babes. Go away.’

“’Babes!?’ Alcae roared and bared his fists. ‘You are a fool to challenge us!’

“The Spider’s eyes narrowed. ‘Not challenging. Sparing. Leave, or Spider change her mind.’

“’That a fool such as you can barely speak gives me confidence that I can rip off your tail and strangle you with it!’”

By this point I was riveted, my knees drawn up to my chest and my face half hidden behind them. My fingers gripped my legs, knuckle-white. My stomach was turning into knots, because I knew what came next would be terrible.

Thaddeus went on, relishing in my growing anxiety. “Alcae boldly entered into the clearing, and suddenly the ground lit up with a web of glowing threads. The threads were rooting into the ground, and they all went back to the center of the Spider’s chest where little beads came up from the ground and went along the lines to be absorbed by her body. The boy’s feet stuck to this stuff and he couldn’t get free. As he struggled, he lost his balance and fell over. The threads sprang to life and wrapped around him, holding him down. They got into his chest, and the Spider started pulling his soul out using her web.”

I was shivering at this point. “Didn’t his brothers do anything??”

“Eolus was going to, but Cato held him back. ‘Wait! You will just meet the same fate as Alcae!’

“But Eolus was cocky as much as he was quick. Confident in his speed, he just said, ‘Nay! I must save our brother before the demon has him! She will not be able to catch my quick feet, and I can step around these threads better than any dancer!’ And he went, fighting off his brother’s hands, into the clearing.

“At first it seemed he would be right. Eolus quickly and skillfully avoided the many threads of the Spider’s web, and reached his brother in no time at all. But up close, he saw how Alcae was wrapped in the threads. Taking out his knife, Eolus just grinned arrogantly. ‘I was fast and skillful enough to get this far, I can do this equally as good!’”

“No!” I murmured.

“Yes!” Thaddeus said with a wicked grin. “As soon as Eolus touched the glowing threads, they wrapped about him faster than he could even think, and he fell to the ground next to Alcae. Now two brothers were caught and both were unconscious. Alcae, having been there the longest, was growing smaller, his muscles receding as his skin turned sallow and thin. The only one left was Cato—but the last brother was different from the others.

“Instead of solving his problems using his body, Cato used his mind. He was very smart, and very clever. Seeing the Spider’s web, he knew he could not step forward to save his brothers by brute force or speedy skill. So he spoke to the champion instead. ‘Demon. You introduced yourself as Spider.’

“’Did not introduce…but did say was Spider,’ the Spider replied.

“’May I ask why you are here?’

“’I wish it.’

“’You are alone in a strange land. Our meeting here seems to show a common need for change.’ The Spider didn’t respond. She just narrowed her eyes.

“Smoothly, Cato continued. ’Our purpose was to seek our fortunes in the north, but I see now that we are too young and weak to even survive the perils of our own forests! Please. Accept my apology on behalf of us all and release my brothers. I cannot live without them.’

“’Can,’ the Spider replied. ‘Are doing it now.’

“’Just as well, I’d rather my brother’s be with me.’

“The Spider didn’t speak right away. She looked Cato up and down, her ape tail rising to curl behind her. ‘You say you leaving. What is north?’

“‘We heard tales of artifacts and riches that the dwarves were keeping for themselves. We wished to have some. It is said that great powers can be gained from some of these things.’

“The Spider thought for a moment, then without a move or even a blink, her glowing threads began to recede, back into her chest. Cato’s brothers were freed, but Alcae was reduced to a frail old man, and Eolus little better. As the Spider rose to walk away, Cato called after her, ‘Wait!’

“The Omatt stopped and looked back at him, and the boy pleaded, ‘Please! Restore them! I cannot have my brothers so! I cannot carry them home, and surely the wolves will do away with them should I leave to get help!’

“The Spider just smiled. ‘Asked for release. Not restoration. Gave them release.’ She turned and started walking away. ‘Spider is what others wish. Call her demon…then she is one. But Cato give information. Much desired information. Spider will spare him. Should not push luck.’”

“And what did Cato do?” I asked tremulously.

Thaddeus gave a sad shake of his head. “Cato was clever enough to survive the encounter, and even got the Spider to free his brothers, but he was also arrogant, and that one word—demon—cost him his two friends. He had to return home alone to get help, but before his brothers could be attended to, the beasts of the forest did away with them.”

“And the Spider?”

“She was gone. Probably went farther north. But see, Koah? If you stray from where you’re meant to be, than the Spider will come to get you!”

I swallowed hard at the lump in my throat.

That night, I tried to sleep, and after hours of fretting, I finally slipped away to nightmares of a strange ape girl with green eyes, sitting on a web of light, while I cowered in the darkness, hoping she wouldn’t see me. The next day, I told my A-ma the story, and she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, can your brother not torment you for one second?”

“Was it all a lie, then?” I asked hopefully. At this rate, I was never going to sleep well again.

My mother faltered, her hand going to scratch her neck. “Ah…well…no. Some of it is true. Oh! But my little night shard, do not cry. Come here. Shh, ehna ehna.” My mother petted my hair and rocked me as we sat in the kitchen, the early morning light coloring the room a sleepy shade. “The story Thaddeus told you was partially true, yes. There was an encounter by some of our youth long ago with the Spider of the West, but all the boys survived in good health. She was only asking for directions.”

“Really?” I sniffled, looking up at her from her bosom.

Fotini smiled. “Yes, my child.” She took hold of my face and in her eyes I could see love shining. “Do not listen to your brother. You are not a freak. The Spider will not come after you for wanting to better yourself and expand your horizons!”

“Even for learning Common?” I mumbled.

“You’re A-pa knew Common. There is nothing wrong with that!”

Just then, Thaddeus appeared, dressed and ready for erduk. Toddling after him was Atalo, dressed only in his diaper and waving a wooden sword around. My oldest brother smiled as my mother and I spared him a glare. “Morning!” he chirped as he began his forage for food.

My mother spoke as she gently displaced me from her lap. “Now while your brother tells you tales about demons and spiders, perhaps he would’ve found better material in his dear A-ma?”

Thaddeus’s apple froze on its way to his mouth.

Soon, the sound of him pleading and yelping outside could be heard as my mother swatted his bottom with the broom handle. I watched from the window, Atalo on my lap, a satisfied grin on my face. Sitting on the table next to me was the Common book from last night. My little brother tapped the glass with his wooden sword, and gurgled out, “Thaddy…Ca-jeck.”

____________________________

The Willing Fly – Part 5

As told by Lethia Artaud

…Yes, I suppose you’re free to give me that look. I’ve been a terrible storyteller, and once I finally had the story completely, I refused to tell it. But I gave my word. Good or bad, this is the last of it.

If you’ll recall, the last part I had left off at was when Syria was trying to convince the Spider to stay and help her.

“No pain?” Spider said, her tail twitching. “Of heart, or body?”

Breathless, the woman replied, “There’s a possibility for both. I just…I need to find the magical records that can show me how! This is Hudisyg, the dwarven center of magical research! If there was ever a place where such knowledge was to be found, it’d be here! After all, what else are those guardians guarding?”

The Omatt blinked at her. Then she smiled slowly.

“Spider’s web trembles,” she breathed, so that Syria could barely hear. “Syria is the trembler. Does Syria dream?”

“Yes. All the time. For a better world for all.”

The Spider’s smile widened. “Should stop. Dangerous.”

“And you? Do you dream?”

The Omatt laughed harshly. “Can’t. Never sleep. Too busy waiting.”

“For what?”

“Everything.”

And from there is where the rest of the story I’ve already told you happened. They found the scrolls, Spider saved Syria from a trap and seemed fatally injured, but in truth she was just baiting Syria so that my former mistress would bring all the dwarves to one place. I was never told why the Spider desired this, or what she took from those dwarves, but it’s my guess that she found a power other than what Syria had been seeking.

Back to my twelfth birthday, after Syria ended her story. She fixed her eyes on me and laid a hand on my hair. “I believe you can see and understand a great many things, child. But I think you choose not to see, sometimes. I think you walk into the hands of the enemy as the Spider did…as I did, like a willing fly. Do not get caught up in what does not work. The Spider’s dissatisfaction with the world was inevitably her downfall. She could not find appreciation in anything, and her values diminished until she was as the dwarven men—driven by some esoteric need that none could fully comprehend.”

I furrowed my little brow, and Syria just chuckled at me. “What is it, Lethia dear?”

I looked at her. “If getting that power was bad for the Spider, than why was it okay for you?”

Syria’s smile gained a shadowed hook as she responded to me.

“The difference between me and the Spider is, that I do not get bored. On the contrary, I become deeply involved.”

Obsessed, she meant.

Looking back now…I think I could have put it together, even at the age of twelve. Maybe then all of us wouldn’t be here, sharing broken stories about a broken Legend. The magic Syria found in Hudisyg…was that the evil she used in Albias?  Syria called me the willing fly because I gave into my aimless passions as a child, but it seems I gave into her lies just as well…

____________________________

A Hungry Nothing

As told by Quincy

…Nothing fills me with such disgust as hearing that creature’s name. I’m almost insulted that you would ask me to speak of it…her.  I’m sure you’d fancy something entertaining, though I fear what I have to say would entertain the sick and disturbed. And I know her true name. I know the name of this evil, this plague that was visited upon Gaia when she came puking and screaming from her mother’s rancid womb. I will not say it. It is a sin, I’m almost certain of that now, to give that damned ape anything befitting a moral sentient creature. The Spider of the West? Arachne? These could easily be used to describe a horrible beast, and she was just that, make no mistake.

I have no real story to give. Just broken accounts of what that demon did—to my life, to so many others.

I suppose I can begin by stating how we met. You see, there was a short time when Jack let me travel with him after my mother’s death, and one of our last trips was to the Indabe. There, at a little oasis town called Abija, we met up with Tobias and his new adolescent ward, whom they only called, “Spider.” Being older, she was much taller than I, and yet from the looks of her, I guessed I could beat her in an arm wrestling match. She was skinny—unhealthily so—and her green eyes had a cold glint to them that froze my blood.

“Quincy, this is Spider. Spider, Quincy,” Tobias gestured between us.

“Hello,” I said shyly. I think I was between the ages of five or seven at the time.

Instead of replying, the Omatt glared at Tobias.

The tall man faltered, scratching at his bushy eyebrow. “Oh! I’m sorry…I should mention that Spider has a special condition that makes speech difficult for her. As a result, her comprehension is fine but she cannot hold a conversation with others. I’ve been trying to help her with…” At my lost look, Tobias trailed off again, his cheeks coloring.

Jack just laughed and tousled my hair.  “Fledgeling, what your uncle is trying to say, is that Spider is mute.”

I blinked at her. “Oh.”

Spider just gazed at me guardedly.

We spent that night eating and carousing, my father and my uncle conversing with the locals while I took in all the strange sights and sounds of that foreign land. Only Spider seemed withdrawn, her eyes out on the moonlit sea of sand that surrounded our little haven. Her spine was curled and her tail wrapped around into her lap, where she stroked it gently. Finally, I noticed her reticence and moved to speak to her. “Is something wrong?” I asked.

She looked at me sharply, and I jumped. Then I remembered that she couldn’t speak. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I just thought you looked sad. Where are your parents?”

I could see her nostrils flare and her round ears twitch but her face otherwise remained passive as she looked away from me. I bit my lip and sat closer to her on the pillow cushions. “Did you lose them? I lost my mother. Birds took her eyes.”

Spider looked at me sidelong and I looked down into my lap. “I love father, but I miss mother.”

“Miss. Okay. To…Miss,” came the lisping response. She spoke slow and thick like a simpleton would.

I looked at the Omatt in surprise. “You spoke!”

Spider’s face screwed up and her tail flopped in her grip. “Miss. Mo-ther. Love.”

I nodded my eyes tearing up. “I did love her! I still do! Do you miss your parents?”

Spider shrugged.

I bit my lip. From my pocket, I pulled out a small brown and cream quill. “Here,” I said as I handed the item to her. The Omatt scrunched her nose up at it, but I pushed it toward her insistently. “Take it! That was my mother’s. Since you don’t have a mother, we can share. I think she’d like you.”

The Spider stared, bewildered by the gift. Then she smiled.

The rest of the night went merrily enough, and in a short time after that, we were as sisters.

This all sounds nice, right? But trust me when I say that it didn’t last long. In the coming years, my father would venture off for quest after quest, leaving me in the care of the others. Often times Tobias and Spider would go with him, and I would be left in the care of either one or both of them. But one day, word came that Ludovico, the champion of Eate, was abusing his powers for base needs. It was one thing for agents of heaven to oppose each other over their gods’ principles, but it was another thing entirely to use one’s powers to answer the whims of mortals. The direness of the situation demanded that all three of my caretakers go, so I was sent to stay with a friend in the Kingdom of the Sands whilst Jack, Spider, and Tobias addressed the problem on the other side of the world.

They later returned…without Spider.

“But where is she?” I cried. “She isn’t dead, is she?”

“No fledgeling,” Tobias said with a sad smile. “Spider just…needs time to herself. She’ll come around.”

But she never did.

In just a short year after that, I was sent to live in the Fanaean village of Kimbia, as my father’s work kept him perpetually in the southern hemisphere, and having me in the Kingdom of the Sands no longer became convenient. Our friends there argued that it was unsafe for me to be in Fanaea because of its wild and primitive society. They said I would be safer staying in the well-guarded kingdom, where my father’s enemies could not reach me. This objection was momentarily silenced when Tellus granted a sort of reprieve to Tobias, and he chose to stay with me in the village. Naturally, it wasn’t long before he was called on again, only this time he left in the dead of night without telling me. I had to hear it from Kafeel in the morning that my so-called uncle had gone to take care of something important that required his immediate attention, and he would be back soon.

Then the people of Kimbia, along with Hakeem’s family, were all slaughtered, and my caretakers were nowhere in sight. Hakeem and I were the only survivors left of a bloody attack from marauders—all enemies of my father. They searched the jungles for me for days afterwards, moving their camps hither and thither. We barely escaped their notice, but in all our movement, we could not properly gather food or find shelter, and so we were just barely surviving. It was the arrival of the pirate captain, Tulki that saved Hakeem and I, but even that solution was for the short term.

But what of the Spider? Yes. What of that despicable beast? I will tell you why it was Tobias left me unguarded in such a hurry, forsaking me in favor of her. I will tell you what my father was doing, hunting her along the Talmorian landscape until he reached her abominable jungle in the Indabe. And I will tell you what that creature did, to earn so much infernal attention.

On Talmor, there was once a town called Tabiz on the eastern coast. It was a prosperous farming town, and though they were small, they had many slaves. I have heard speculation that this was perhaps what set Spider off. She hated slavery, but she hated more those who surrendered to it. Perhaps this was why she sat in the middle of Tabiz’s market day. Perhaps this was why she let her overgrown bangs shade her eyes as men and women of different races, genders, and species, happily served their masters under bondage.

Perhaps this was why she undid them all, their bodies disintegrating into dark crimson dust before vanishing into nothing at all.

In a single sweep of her will, the Spider erased Tabiz and its people—slaves and all—from the face of Gaia. Conversations were cut short, handshakes were not completed, jumping games left undecided, lives were snuffed out because this one mkundu monster just decided she felt like it.

And the sick part? She left one old woman alive to tell the world of what had happened. Why the old woman? Because Spider wanted it that way. No other reason. That’s it. There is no moral to this story, no underlying truth. Just tragedy abound in that we were all too blind or too naïve to see.

Over the years following her downfall, I came to learn of how her so-called ‘heroics’ were little more than violent, savage excursions to fill her vast need for fulfillment. Through disconnected accounts—A Santian history lesson, an Ailuran fable, an Albian rumor—I gathered that the Spider had travled through the heart of the Sibesona to the far north, where there she found some sort of power. But even this did not satiate her insane demands for death and destruction.

That is why I call the Spider a beast, and I say I am glad that she is sealed away. And should she ever be released, I only hope that she rots in hell for all eternity. Since the day I met her, the Omatt had been looking for something to fill the black hole in her heart. Up until the moment she was cast down, it is my opinion that she never truly recovered from her starved life as a slave. It is my opinion, that her evil nature left that demon emaciated and hungry for a great deal of nothing.

Back to Honey & Spice | Forward to Artifacts of Childhood

They’re not gonna happen

You paint yourself white

And fill up with noise

But there’ll be something missing

Now that you’ve found it, it’s gone

Now that you feel it, you don’t

You’ve gone off the rails

So don’t get any big ideas

They’re not gonna happen

You’ll go to hell for what your dirty mind is thinking”¹

____________________________

The end of spring meant examinations, and Nyx had to rub the ink off her face from falling asleep on her notes. She’d had that dream again. The one with Taila and the honey soap in her bedroom. She shivered, the unreal memories flushing her body with a pulsing heat. If she had the time, she’d rinse herself clean both in body and in mind with some cold water. But as things stood, Nyx did not have the time, and if her guess was correct, she was, in fact, late.

Her hair was in a frizzy ponytail, one leg in her trousers as she searched frantically about the mess of her room for her book on Later History. It was still early morning, the sleepy teu-teu of the grosbeaks outside her window having just started. The fourteen-year-old muttered under her breath as she hopped about, trying to get her other foot in.

“On the 4^th cycle of the lunar year 906, the Illuminari Pantaleon established trade routes with the halfling settlement, Règlem, creating a new era of agricultural development and…” she trailed off, her tongue finding its way to her cheek as she spied the familiar corner of a mauve book cover beneath a pile of scrolls on the floor.  “There you are!” Pulling on her pants, Nyx went and plucked the book up.

Blowing at her bangs, she tossed the text onto her bed and removed her nightshirt.

A male voice made an appreciative sound from the doorway, and the girl jumped, her hands bundling her shirt to her chest as she turned to look.

She only caught sight of a shadow being pushed down the hallway by her mother.

Fotini hissed at the stranger, her face pink.  “Get out!”

Nyx turned her eyes to the ground, her heart hammering against her chest.  She listened and heard the front door slam shut.  Silence rang for a long drawn out moment before her mother slipped past the beaded curtain of her bedroom doorway. It was times like these that the teenager wondered why Ailurans couldn’t take a leaf out of every other cultures book, and just build doors.

“I’m sorry, Nyx.  I…didn’t think you would be awake yet,” Fotini said, her eyes also downturned.

The teenager glanced at her, before returning her eyes to the floor.  “I was going to meet Ampelos for an early study session before class.”  She bit her lip, debating her next question. With shoulders hunched, Nyx asked, “Atalo didn’t see, right?”

Fotini’s silence felt almost frosty.  The girl swallowed hard as she forced her eyes onto her mother’s face.  Quietly, she said next, “A-ma…why don’t you just choose one?”

Something indescribable passed the older woman’s face.  Fotini was still a beautiful woman, but the touches of age were beginning to show in the silver lines of her thick and curly hair. The woman’s eyes batted, lines appearing around them as her brow tensed, then eased.

“You’ll be out late again tonight, yes? I’ll have a stew ready for when you’re home,” the woman said.

Nyx scowled at her mother’s sidestepping, but simply nodded. “Please make sure that Atalo takes his tonic for the night. That cold still hasn’t left him entirely, and he’s too stubborn to do what he needs to.”

“I will, do not worry my little night shard.” Her mother smiled thinly and stepped forward, kissing her daughter’s forehead. “You should hurry, Nyx,” Fotini murmured.  She turned and left the room, the beaded curtain tinkling in her wake. “Don’t keep Ampelos waiting.  He’s such a nice boy.”

____________________________

The girl walked slowly through her village, her eyes roving over her surroundings.  The daikuts were still dark and quiet, but the village paths were beginning to show signs of life as merchants and craftsmen rose early to prepare for the day.  The sky was a soft rosy blend of hazy white calamine and passionate damask.  The dark mountains guarded the northern skyline as the suns’ rays began to spear up over the forested western lands.  The days had been getting chillier, but that particular morning saw no wind, and the air was cool at best.

As such, Nyx felt overdressed in her winter smock. She tugged at the furry collar, the soft deer suede gentle beneath her sweaty fingertips. She felt like she were roasting. She paused in her walk to set down her bag of school materials and to strip the item off. Her cheeks blazed as the act reminded her of her earlier state of undress, and the stranger that had peeped in on her. It hadn’t been the first time that had happened, and it wouldn’t be the last.

The girl had always been aware of her mother’s proclivities, but it only seemed to reach her when their home served as the stage. Somehow, those acts of indulgence were things apart from their family.  Apart from her mother.  And yet, the skulking partners seen during the wee hours of the day illuminated a connection that was more disturbing each time she witnessed it.

“Sweet Aelurus…it doesn’t feel right!” Nyx thought with a shudder. “Why can’t she just choose a suitor, like Thaddeus says?  Why does she have to keep doing this to us?”

The girl stuffed her smock into her bag and resumed her walk at a quicker pace. As she left the village outskirts to the western hills, she caught the scent of incense and roasted almonds long before spying Ampelos sitting atop one particularly grassy knoll. He was leaning back on his hands, his face upturned towards the sky with his eyes closed. Nyx stopped just short of him, feeling her tension mount for reasons inexplicable. One hand gripped her bag strap whilst the other wadded the front of her shirt.

She swallowed when Ampelos’s honey-colored eyes opened and turned her way. He must have caught her scent somehow, because she hadn’t made a sound. For some reason, he was always able to sense her presence—an ability that irked her to no end during their childhood games of hide and seek.

The teenage boy smiled at her before he looked down at his lap. “Nyx!” He brushed back his curly hair as he reached for his book on Later History. “I thought you’d given up on me.”

“That’s funny, because I still can’t believe you haven’t given up on me,” Nyx returned, a nervous smile on her face. She was only half-joking. Ampelos was a priest-in-training. Over the years it was discovered that, while Nyx was very well-read in secular knowledge, her religious knowledge was rudimentary at best. And so, the boy had taken it upon himself to help Nyx gain a more rounded understanding of their faith—beyond what the politicians used for their distortions.

Ampelos was a generous person, if quiet and a bit shy. Seven years of familiarity made discourse much easier between them, but even after so much time, the boy still found it hard to look into her face for too long. He had a brilliant mind, regardless, and his affectations seemed to be the very portrait of piety. Nyx couldn’t help but feel uncouth or roguish in his presence, as though there were some sin she couldn’t wash out from her skin. Having seen her mother’s most recent indiscretion, the feeling was intensified.

When Nyx didn’t move to sit next to him, Ampelos looked up at her, his brows knitting.  “Nyx? Is something the matter?”

At his genuine concern, the girl felt some of her tension ease a bit and took a seat next to her friend.  “No, no. Sorry. I just…had an awkward start today.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Her response was quick to chase his. “Not really.”

Ampelos gave a nod of his head, his smile gentle. His eyes searched her face for that small second before they predictably turned away.  “So…Pantaleon?”

Nyx took out her textbook and opened it to the dog-eared page. “He was a member of the Illuminari in 906, during the age of the Sorels and Felix the Great.  He established trade routes with Règlem, and helped birth what became known in Old Ailuran as Zvéri Kenthas—which is…?” she trailed off pointedly.

Ampelos blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh. Uh… Zvéri Kenthas was the agricultural revolution that saw us through the next ten years of famine. The halflings introduced us to old elven techniques, which we adapted for our purposes. Right?”

“Right. But here’s the thing…if we hadn’t had made that diplomatic connection, what do you think would have happened?”

“We would have died as a society.”

Nyx smiled. “You think?”

Ampelos blinked at her. “Uh…yes?”

The girl giggled and pointed at the third paragraph of her book.  The boy found the same place in his copy, and she began to read.  “’Though the Ailuran Nation gained new skills in agricultural, their dependency on the halfling cartels increased to such an alarming degree, that leaders were faced with either meeting their demands, or finding themselves deprived of the very tools and resources needed to implement the new agricultural practices that kept their people fed.’”

“And then there were the dwarven riots,” Ampelos said, his eyes brightening.

Nyx gave a nod. “You see, there isn’t anything wrong with trying to reach out to other societies. The mistakes made in the wake of Pantaleon’s excellent discourse was that his fellows allowed for a situation in which the Ailuran Nation became politically weakened, and tied to dangerous conflict. The agricultural methods the halflings showed us required many things only they could provide, so we became reliant on their trade. When the riots broke out, our livelihood was threatened, and we had to send soldiers in to assist the halfling cartels in suppressing the dwarves in their settlements. And sweet Aelurus, if you think the Fiamman ginger weeds are bad, you should’ve seen the dwarves! Many of them were hardened warriors and skilled crafters, and their weaponry made them a dangerous force to reckon with. A lot of our soldiers died.

“Now, most people will argue that we had no choice, and no one’s arguing that our eventual survival wasn’t a good thing, but I think–and don’t put this down as an answer in the exam, or Leander will mark you down–I think it would’ve been safer for our nation to stick to our own methods of survival. We have our own practices for surviving famine, ancient practices that may have been harder on our people—but I think you and I both agree toughness was never an issue for our nation. Agricultural leaders in 906 forsook tried and true methods for expediency and wealth. That’s the point everyone revolves around. Lots of hypotheticals get thrown back and forth, and it gets really confusing. I don’t think there is any one right answer.

“You see, interaction between cultures has been historically shown to lead to an increased chance of exchanged ideas, and even sometimes a joining of traditions, like for instance, how we now celebrate the end of Spring with seven days of revelry each year. That’s a practice with elven roots, called Printemps. But it’s important to see that it is a conscious choice by society to accept those kinds of ideas and customs, whenever or wherever they may come from.”

“So what is there to learn?” Ampelos wondered, his eyes on his book.

The girl quirked an eyebrow at him. “Pardon?”

He looked at her, startled.  “Huh? Oh! I was talking to myself, sorry. I…I mean…well, isn’t this what history is for? To teach us about the present and what the future can hold? This sounds like Leander’s attempt at asserting Ailuran superiority again. So what’s the lesson?”

Nyx offered a bemused smile. “Amp, the lesson here is easy. When dealing with others, one has to walk the fine line between being taken advantage of, or missing out on good things. The power comes in realizing there’s a choice, and in so choosing, one commits themselves to a path they are a lot more likely to succeed by.”

“So did Pantaleon make the right choice?”

“Yes, I think so. It was the other leaders who allowed themselves to be misled. But if the trade routes hadn’t been established? I think we still would have survived, despite the harsh conditions. Just remember to make that point when asked, and you’ll get full marks. Throw in some Ailuran patriotism, and Leander will probably just pass you.” At this, the girl rolled her eyes.

Ampelos chuckled. “Thanks Nyx.” He gestured at her bag.  “You look like you have more than usual today! Were you going to see Taila after our examinations?”

Nyx grinned shyly and patted her bag. “Well I brought my smock today, so that’s why it’s so big, but yes. I was planning on seeing Taila after. Will you be joining me?”

“No. I have special training at the temple, and Urian wants me there as early as possible.”

“Darn. Well, I’ll tell her you said hello, then.”

Ampelos’s smile waned and he fingered the corners of his book. “Gods…It’s still weird, not having her around all the time. I hardly get to see her at all these days.”

To this the girl said nothing, her eyes turning down to the book in her lap. Scribbled in the margins were special notes for Taila. The girl’s friend had ended her schooling to take up her family business after her mother became seriously ill. Taila’s father was aging, and he couldn’t take on all the work himself. So she worked every day, from sun up to sun down, and had been for nearly a year. Nyx had started tutoring the older girl when her lessons began to cover material she had missed out on, which had been for four months now.

“What you’re doing is a good thing,” Ampelos said suddenly.

Nyx looked at him, her eyes wide. “Huh?”

He looked at her, an almost sad smile on his face. “For Taila. Helping her with her work and tutoring her.” He looked away. “It’s the kind of care I wish I could show someone I love, if only my priest duties didn’t keep me so busy. I like serving Aelurus, but I like caring for others just as much.”

The girl’s face blazed red. Clearing her throat, she turned the page. “Let’s keep at it, Amp. We don’t have much time left before class starts.”

____________________________

Examinations were done, and Nyx breathed a sigh of relief. As was often the case, she had overestimated the difficulty of the test, and the only challenge she faced was in finding a way to word her answers so that Leander wouldn’t think she was feeding him lines. Which she often was. After being singled out for so many years, the girl decided it was wiser to keep her true opinions to herself regarding the propaganda and skewed history, and just play along.  With the fervor over the Fiamman war, her opinions would even be lethal, in some cases. Leander already did his best to find excuses to punish her, she didn’t want to add oil to the fire.

Dashing out of the classroom and away from her navi’s contemptible gaze, she gave Ampelos a parting wave before hurriedly speeding through the arched hallways to the wide brick stoop of the erduk, the village place for learning. She was about to descend the stairs when someone bumped into her harshly, nearly making her tumble headlong down the steps. Her fists clenched. The stoop wasn’t crowded. That had been purposeful.

She turned to the offender, her eyes glaring. “Hey!”

She immediately regretted looking, for who turned to her was none other than Killen, Leander’s nephew, who just so happened to hate her as much as their navi did, if not more. The boy’s hazelnut eyes fixed on her tightened face, and he just smirked, his gaze searing beneath the wisps of his dark bangs. The girl was seized with bewilderment—never had he looked at her in such a fashion before. It was always glares and snarls and cruel amusement. This was so much more…reserved. Without so much as an insult, the boy turned and continued on his way, toward his hollering fellows.

Nyx stared after him, something cold flashing along her skin as she watched her longtime nemesis saunter away.  He was a year older than she was—still younger than Taila, but already growing into the stature of a proud Ailuran male. Her stomach beginning to ache, the girl set her bag down and shakily sought her smock.

“Nyx?”

The girl paused to turn and see Ampelos standing in the entryway of the erduk, his face once again donning a look of concern. “Weren’t you going to Taila’s? I thought you’d be halfway there by now?”

“Oh, well I just caught a chill and was looking for my…uh…smock. It was buried beneath my books. Pretty deep,” the girl said this with a weak smile as she tugged out the item in question.

“Oh.”

Nyx shouldered the bag, the smock gripped in her other hand. She started sidestepping down the stairs. “I’ll see you later, Amp.”

The boy nodded, his concern failing to fade away completely. “I…Goodbye, Nyx.”

The girl turned, and with a quick gait, she set off down the village path to Taila’s. She pulled her shoulder strap over her head, so that it crossed her chest, and struggled into her smock. The three suns were now nearing the dusky westward heights that would usher in the night. At this point in the day, Taila and her father should have been baking honey bar soaps to sell on market day.

Sure enough, when Nyx came upon her friend’s home, the chimney was trailing with smoke, and she caught that unmistakable sweet scent. Feeling some of her anxieties fall away, the teenager came up to the daikut and knocked on the door. The house was not in the best of shape—its roof needed mending and the stone foundation could have used with reinforcing. Inside were similar stories—of needed repairs and the funds that lacked to achieve them.

But when Taila opened the door, Nyx knew these were not the things weighing on her friend’s mind.

Taila was fifteen years old and already the very image of a woman. She had full supple breasts, rich tender thighs, and a confident air about her that failed to fade even in the face of real threats. Her amethyst eyes, even now as they held consternation, were large and captivating. In a way much like Ampelos was with her, Nyx found it hard to look into Taila’s eyes for too long. She chose to ignore the implications of that relation.

The older girl bopped her on the head.  “Cajeck! Didn’t I tell you could just walk in?”

Nyx winced and blushed, rubbing the spot that Taila had given her a thump. It hadn’t hurt, but she felt chided all the same. “Sorry, I just didn’t want to intrude, in case–”

“Nyx, from now on, walk in.”

“…O-Okay.”

“You’re always welcome, and to be frank, it’d be less of a pain if we didn’t come running to the door every time you were here. You come almost every day anyhow. Do you see where I’m coming from? My A-pa says you’re practically a part of this family, so we don’t have to be so formal, y’know?”

“Yes. Sorry.”

Taila placed her hands on her hips as she gave a slow shake of her head. Nyx’s shoulders hunched around her ears and she stood clutching the bulge beneath her smock that was her bag. Then the older girl grinned.

“Geez, Nyx. What am I going to do with you?” She placed a hand at the back of the girl’s neck, pulling her in.

Nyx’s breath hitched, feeling that vulnerable place of passivity enter her in a ghostly wave before the contact ended and she heard the door shut behind them. They stood in the small dining room kitchen, simply furnished, the sweet fragrant smell even stronger here than outside. Dried herbs of all sorts hung from the ceiling, creating an almost wild, foresty feel to the space. Taila’s father, Terus, a tall man with eyes an even richer hue than his daughter’s, stood at the table reading over a ledger. He looked up at Nyx and smiled good naturedly. Exhaustion wrinkled about his eyes.

“Hello, Nyx. I see my daughter’s put you straight.”

The girl burned red and ducked her head. “Y-Yes sir.”

“We’ve some biscuits if you’d like some. They’re in the basket over there on the counter.”

“I’d love some, thank you sir.”

“A-pa, are you okay with the last batch?” Taila asked her father, as Nyx fetched a roll from the basket. She bit into it and tried not to grimace. They were like rocks.

“No, you go on, Taila. I was just trying to finish these records before the week’s end.”

She gave a nod, and looked to Nyx in turn. As her eyes fell on the half-eaten biscuit, her lips quirked up, and she gestured for the younger girl to follow. Together, they entered the small hallway, where on the left was an open entry way—Taila’s room—and the left, a curtain-closed entryway—her parent’s.  Nyx was careful not to make a sound, lest she disturb Taila’s mother, Jezah, who was no doubt sleeping by this time.

Upon entering her friend’s bedroom, the smell of fragrant honey lessened, a musky scent nearly overtaking it. There was a kickball in the corner—dusty now—and a rack of slim gaudily painted clubs for a game called tuetri on the right wall. Clothes were strewn everywhere, the bed unmade, and there was even an old ink spill on the small writing desk next to the bed, the inkpot still having yet to have been turned right side up. Taila cleared her throat, hurriedly trying to pick up some of the clothes on the floor. “Er–Sorry. I didn’t think it was this bad. I had meant to clean up earlier, but—”

“It isn’t so bad,” Nyx said earnestly. “You should see my room.”

“Maybe later.” Taila deposited her gathered clothes into a small wicker basket near the door, where they spilled over the edges like water would an over-filled bucket. She fixed her eyes on Nyx, her eyebrow quirked. “How’s your biscuit?” Her eyes shined with knowing.

Nyx narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “You baked these, didn’t you?”

Her friend just giggled and said, “So what are we studying today?”

Nyx pursed her lips and shoved her biscuit into her smock’s left pocket, then sat on the bed while Taila sat in her desk chair. The younger girl pulled out her book on Later History. “I just took an exam on this, so I figured we could go over some of it while it’s still fresh in my mind.”

Taila wrinkled her nose. “Later History?”

“You haven’t studied this yet, right?”

“No. I quit lessons way before my navi got there. I think the last thing we covered was…” and here the girl trailed off, her eyes rolling to the ceiling and her head tilting back with a sigh.

Nyx’s eyes flickered to her exposed neck, long and tanned and slender…

Taila’s head snapped up, making the younger girl jump. “The Heretic Rebellion! Yeah, that was it.”

“Sweet Aelurus, really?” Nyx palmed her face. “Taila you should’ve said so! I only focused on language arts so long so that you could get all the advanced rules down!”

“Nyx, Later History doesn’t necessarily paint itself out as vital knowledge for me right now.”

At this, the younger girl’s face softened.  She looked away. “You’re right.  I’m sorry.”  She bit her lip and glanced up shyly. “How’ve…things been lately?”

Taila shrugged one shoulder, her face going blank. “Fine. A-pa and I have been keeping up with the care of the bees pretty good. A-ma’s been doing well. Her fever’s been down, she’s breathing okay, and the thrush seems to have left her tongue. Her skin is even clear of breakouts.” The fifteen-year-old picked her pant leg, where a trail of honey had dried onto the fabric. “So we’re fine.”

Nyx nodded, fingering the corners of her book.

With a pop, Taila stood and sat next to her, her amethyst eyes bright and intent. “To hell with studying for right now! I’ve been working all day. I just want to hear about how you and Amp have been. Go on, tell me!” the older girl tickled Nyx’s side, eliciting a laugh from her friend.

Nyx clapped a hand on her mouth, her eyes wide as she looked toward the doorway. Taila looked too, her eyebrows high. When nothing came of the small disruption, the friends shared a silent giggle.

“Well,” Nyx started, grabbing her knees. “Ampelos says hello, first of all. His priest training has been taking up more of his time, so I don’t see him as much as I used to. He even misses erduk some days. Oh, did I mention to you? I study with him in the early mornings when we can. So you’re not the only one.”

“I bet he loves that,” Taila said with a smirk.

Nyx blushed, not for her friend’s meaning, but for the alluring tilt of her lips.

The fourteen-year-old cleared her throat and went on in a mumble. “Atalo’s fine. As fine as that flea-brain could ever be.” Nyx grinned at the floor. “You know he ate a cup of earth worms on a dare last week?”

“Disgusting! What the hell for?”

“He was trying to impress a girl. Hemalia.”

“Diphene’s daughter? Ugh, but she’s such a narcissist! She’d probably marry herself if she could! Can you imagine her trying to service herself? It’d be like one of those Santian paintings, searching for the deeper meaning of self-buggery.” Taila only knew about Santian paintings because Nyx had shared some of her father’s outside books in some of their study sessions.

She shoved at Taila’s shoulder. “What a thing to say!”

“Oh I can say more, believe me!” The fifteen-year-old chuckled deeply. “So did Atalo’s ploy work? Is the lovely Hemalia all his?”

Nyx rolled her eyes. “Apparently he’s taking her to Ebon Lake this weekend.”

“The stupid thing was, he got sick from it! I’m half-expecting his mouth to mutate into a giant worm!”

“Oh Aelurus bite me, I can just see how they’re first kiss would work out. ‘Oh darling, you can bait my salmon any day!”

Nyx feigned horror as Taila snorted, her hand clapping over her nose and mouth. She tried to stifle her laughter and was clearly failing. The younger girl grinned as her friend threw herself back onto the bed. Setting her book aside, she turned her body so that she was leaning further back onto the mattress, one hand planted, one leg tucked beneath her, the other arm draped lazily along her side.

Her eyes trailed to Taila’s chest, jumping and quivering with her humor.

When the older girl calmed herself down enough to speak, she chortled out, “Gods, what do you think makes people choose the lovers they do?”

Nyx’s smile waned as her eyes traced Taila’s features, so lovely and even that she felt abstract and monstrous in comparison. Her mind flashed with images of her recent dream—of wet skin, joined lips, and searching hands. Then her mother’s face popped into the girl’s head, and Nyx shut her eyes with a hiss. Her friend blinked up at her, her smile also fading.

“Nyx? What’s up?”

The fourteen-year-old turned away, her shoulders sagging. “She did it again, Taila.”

The silence that followed seemed to drag on for too long. Then Taila sat up and hugged her from the side. Nuzzling her friend’s ear, she asked quietly, “It’s okay, Nyx. Tell me.”

Nyx swallowed, staring up at the ceiling. “I was getting ready to see Ampelos really early this morning. I took off my shirt, and I heard a man’s voice from the hallway. When I turned to look, my mother was shoving someone toward the door. She apologized after, but when I asked why she couldn’t just choose someone she just…” the girl trailed off, her head dropping to her chest.

Taila stroked her hair and said nothing.

Nyx closed her eyes and tears dropped to her lap. “It’s normal, it’s natural for us to seek a new partner when one leaves us. Even Thaddeus has given up on our A-pa ever coming home. How can she bring so much shame to our home? She isn’t courting, she’s just—sweet Aelurus! There’s just no end to it! I wish she’d at least do it elsewhere, so that Atalo doesn’t have to see it.”

“And me either,” the girl added inwardly.

Taila’s hand stilled on her hair. “But you’ve seen it, Nyx. You’ve seen more than most could even understand at such a young age, and you haven’t turned into some sort of hedonist.”

The girl winced, feeling her stomach turn. “I wish I hadn’t told you those things.” She meant every word.

Her friend grabbed her chin, forcing her eyes onto hers. Nyx could feel Taila’s warm breath on her lips. “I’m glad you did. If you hadn’t, you’d be sitting on all of this without anybody to talk to, just letting it all eat at you. And then where would you be?”

“Not lying. To you. To me.”

Nyx swallowed and said, “I just…I don’t want Atalo to know those things.”

“He will someday. And whose to say he hasn’t already?”

“He’s eleven. If he must find his way to it, than I’d like it to be in a…healthier way than I.”

Taila sat back, her eyes blinking. “Than…You mean you’ve…” she made a vague gesture in the air.

“No!” Nyx shook her head frantically, her face flushing red. “No, of course not!”

Her friend just smirked at her. “Nyx, it’s fine if you have. Sweet Aelurus, I have.”

Nyx felt her chest pull, a sudden deafening roar entering her ears. She stared at Taila, her features going slack, her eyes burning, as she tried to reconcile the information that hit her ears. Her rational mind knew she was being unreasonable. But another part of her felt like screaming, just the same.

“With who?” She heard herself ask.

Taila shook her head, turning her face with a shy smile.

Nyx felt her muscles clench and her bones began to ache. She, the animal inside her, was stirring with her turmoil. The girl swallowed and gave a shake of her head, trying to calm herself with deep, quiet breaths. She was being stupid. Taila was not hers and never would be. Even considering how close they were, it was silly to expect her friend to come running to her with news of her first lay. Virginity was not a hated trait, but not a prized one, either, and the loss of it was nothing exceptional.

The girl started talking, her eyes on the floor. “I didn’t know what I was seeing as a child. I’ll be out of erduk soon, free to support my family, and all I can think is that I’ve got to do all that I can for them. That includes making sure Atalo is raised right.”

Taila pinched her friend’s cheek with a frown. “Have you got fleas in your brain? You’re talking like you’re so old!”

“I feel old…” Nyx muttered with a frown. She took Taila’s hand from her cheek. She held it, unable to help running her thumb along her friend’s palm—the skin was dry. Rough. Her nose flared and she picked up that signature honey scent that she would forever attribute to her friend.

“Nyx, I know you love your family, but our situations are different. You’re talking as though you’ll be through with erduk in a few months, but you’ve got at least two more years. Forget taking on a side job, either. I think you should stick to your lessons. Thaddeus is taking care of your needs, isn’t he? Trust your brother!”

“But we only get to see him once a year. What ELSE am I supposed to do when my mother brings her army of suitors through our home? They eat what we have, are a bad influence on my brother, and soil our honor as a family!”

“Right,” she said instead, feeling the rift of misunderstanding as acutely as she felt her friend’s hand in hers.

Nyx consciously let go, and opened up her book on Later History.

“Let’s get to this before we’re both nodding to sleep in our seats,” she said with somber eyes.

____________________________

Upon arriving home, Nyx found the stew her mother had promised, and served herself the last remaining portions before eating it cold. When she was done, she cleaned up and checked Atalo’s tonic bottle. She found with satisfaction that the amount was less than when she had check it the day before. Taking a piece of charcoal from the counter, she notched another mark along the glass.

Her family was asleep, as it was quite late, so Nyx slipped into her room and stripped off her clothes. She was exhausted, her movements sluggish and dazed. She and Taila had succeeded in their studies, though the girl sensed it best to leave off on Later History and focus on Arithmetic, which her friend was doubtless to find much more useful.

Sitting in the corner next to her desk was her pitcher and wash basin. Sitting in the basin was a honey bar soap, a gift from Taila. Standing naked, the girl took up the bar and pressed it to her nose, breathing deeply. Her eyes rolled shut, her nipples hardening as a growing warmth in her body challenged the cold of her room. Taking up the pitcher, she poured out some water and crouched down. She splashed herself in places, shivering at the frigid water. Lathering her hands with the soap, she began to bathe, letting the soap glide over her skin.

Her eyes closed, her mind wandering inevitably to that torturous dream, where Taila’s hands cleansed her body without hesitation, massaging her breasts, squeezing her thighs, trailing up her back, touching that place between her legs that so pulsed with need…

Nyx came, hardly aware of what was happening. She knelt, her soapy hand between her legs, her eyes fluttering as the waves of pleasure and the head rush she felt both sobered her and exhilarated her.  Then she removed her hand and stared at it, as though it were a thing—alien and grotesque to her. The teenager’s eyes clouded with tears, and she tried to swallow down the lump in her throat.

When she was done crying, it took longer to rinse the soap off because it had dried onto her skin.

____________________________

The next week passed with little event. Atalo overcame his cold, and it even seemed he had succeeded in wooing the young Hemalia as his sweetheart. Her mother had not seen any suitors, or at least, none that Nyx had witnessed, and the household felt content. In just another month, Thaddeus would be returning to them, and Nyx would get to talk to him about her intention of finding a job outside of her studies. Ampelos was quite busy that week, but the girl managed to meet with him a few times for study sessions.  Taila reported no change in her mother, and she and her father seemed to be handling the workload of the beekeeping just fine. Nyx came to help them on market day with Atalo, and though their sales were only just acceptable, Taila’s father was optimistic that next week’s visit from the halfling merchants would yield more gold.

On the last day of the weekend, Nyx was prepping for dinner when her mother came in from gardening outside, her face flushed and a dreamy smile on her lips.  Her daughter paused in her chopping of mustard greens to quirk an eyebrow at her.

“A-ma? How are the radishes? Are they ready to harvest yet?”

Fotini looked at Nyx, blinking. “No. Not yet.” She took off the white handkerchief on her head, her dirty gloves wringing it as she sat at the table.  She stared into space, oblivious to the fact that she was sullying the clean fabric.

At this, Nyx abandoned her task for the moment and sat with her mother at the table. She reached over and grabbed a gloved hand. “A-ma? What’s wrong?”

The woman just laughed in response, her eyes focusing on the teenager’s face. “Nothing! Everything is wonderful!”  She gave a little sigh. “I just…Nyx, have you been with a boy, yet?”

Nyx pulled back, her face burning at her mother’s lack of tact. “N-No. I haven’t.” She stood quickly and returned to her mustard greens, the knife gripped in her hand tightly.

“What about a girl then? At least once?”

The girl winced, her shoulders coming up around her ears. “A-ma, please don’t.”

“Well it’s all right if you have! I’ve done it once or twice—“

“STOP it!” Nyx slammed the knife down onto the cutting board.  She turned and glared at her mother. “You never wanted to talk to me about these things before, so why now? What’s gotten into you all of a sudden!?”

Fotini flushed pink and looked down at the table. “I’ve just been thinking. You’re right.  I haven’t talked to you about these things, and I should have. I suppose, I just assumed, giving your hunger for reading, that maybe you would have…” the woman let out a rough sigh. “No. That’s a lie. I didn’t want to talk to you about these things. That’s all. I haven’t the slightest idea what to do about Atalo, either.”

“He’s only eleven. I think you’ve got a few more years before amorousness becomes a real concern,” Nyx said harshly. “Unless unrestraint runs through the family…” she muttered next.

Her mother rose to her feet, her pink face turning a blotchy red. “Little night shard, I may be getting older, but do no think I cannot thrash you when foolishness takes you!”

Nyx felt herself seize, her ears aching with the memory of her mother’s wrathful pinch. But she was not a child anymore. Swallowing, the girl settled for ducking her gaze, but went on to say, “A-ma, I love you, but I don’t love some of the things you do. I’m not so young that I don’t know what it all means now.”

“And what does it mean?” Fotini challenged heatedly, stepping closer. “What does it mean but that your mother is a lonely woman seeking some respite from our struggles?”

“Our struggles come when your suitors eat and drink our money! When they laugh and take their jollies from you without any commitment, casting us further down into shame!” Nyx snapped back.

Fotini backhanded her.

The blow was hard, and the girl was sent back into the counter, her head snapping fully to the side. Her eyes batted, her mouth open as her cheek stung and throbbed.

“What’s going on?”

Fotini and Nyx turned to see Atalo staring from the hallway, shirtless and barefoot. Both women seemed too startled and ashamed to speak. Then Nyx turned and resumed chopping the mustard greens with great zeal, her teeth bared. “Nothing. Go get dressed, Atalo. We’re seeing Taila again today.”

She heard her brother give an excited whoop before the sound of his bare feet echoed back to her.

“Nyx…I–”

“Mother, can you please start skinning the potatoes? Dinner will be ready twice as fast with your help.” Nyx just managed to keep the irony out of her voice at her last words.

There was a long pause.

“Yes, all right,” Fotini said with a heavy sigh.

____________________________

“Are you mad at her?”

Nyx looked at Taila as they strolled to Ebon Lake, towels over their shoulders and their feet bare. After market day, Terus allowed his daughter one afternoon of rest, and they both decided to celebrate with a swim.

“Yes,” Nyx said in response. “…No. I don’t know. I think I understand, kind of. What my A-ma is going through, I mean.”

“What’s that?”

The girl smiled humorlessly as she watched Atalo running through the trees up ahead. “She’s lonely.”

“Lonely? But she’s going through so many—” the fifteen-year-old cut off with a cough and turned her face. “Sorry. I shouldn’t comment. I guess I just don’t understand.”

Nyx looked at her sideways. “No,” she agreed. “It’s okay. I guess you wouldn’t.”

Taila gave her a sharp look. “Oh don’t put it like that! You make it sound as if I don’t know what it means to be unhappy!”

The younger girl opened her mouth, her cheeks tinging pink, before she snapped it shut. She took a moment to breathe in deeply, then muttered, “Well, now we’ve both stuck our foots in it.” Her face softened. “I’m sorry.”

Her friend sighed and took her hand. “I’m sorry, too.” She traced her thumb over Nyx’s knuckles, making the girl’s heartbeat quicken.

“Hey you two!” Atalo shouted up ahead. Both girls looked to him, and he beat his bare chest. “I’ll race you to the water!”

Taila laughed, taking off after the boy. “You’ll regret those words, lil’ flea!”

Nyx smiled as she watched her friend chase after her brother, then she followed. The rest of the day was pleasant. Atalo decided to cover himself in mud to look like a monster, and his sister, annoyed, wrestled him into the water to clean it off. Taila came to his rescue by tackling Nyx into the lake. Beneath the surface, they spun around each other, the water erupting in bubbles, and Nyx knew the secret joy of feeling the other girl’s firm body against hers. They had berries from the forest and bread Nyx had baked the night before for lunch. They exchanged funny stories and had swimming races around the lake. Then it was time for home.

Nyx and Atalo said goodbye to Taila along the village path and returned home. As they approached their daikut however, the teenager immediately noticed that something was wrong. It was dark inside. A-ma hadn’t mentioned leaving for any reason that night.

“Stay here,” Nyx ordered her brother firmly.

“Huh?” he squinted at her, but she was already up the path to their home, her feet ascending the steps until she found herself staring into the grain of the front door. She put her ear to it, squinting. She couldn’t hear anything.

The girl closed her eyes and took a breath. Quietly she opened the door and slipped inside, glancing back only briefly to make sure that Atalo was following her instructions. He hadn’t moved. Once inside, she shut the door behind her and strained her ears again.

And then she heard it.

The labored breathing.

That small squeak of the bed.

She stood frozen, staring down into the dark mouth of the hallway as though it were a beast waiting to swallow her. She thought to turn and leave. Knew that was perhaps best. But a cold memory, distant and fuzzy, perhaps because of her conscious neglect of it, returned to her.

She recalled her mother in the forest, for once sitting atop her partner. Her generous breasts had been free in the air, her hair loose about her alabaster shoulders. And the look on her face—such release! Such ecstasy! That had been the last time Nyx had seen her mother in such a fashion. She was ten years old. A snapped twig beneath her little foot had ended the magic, and her mother reacted as one angry…and ashamed.

It was this experience, coupled with Ampelos’s spiritual guidance, that the girl began to see her mother’s behavior for what it was.

Unhealthy. Excessive. Grotesquely selfish.

But that look—the one Fotini wore on her face as she moved her body against her male partner—it was like a hook in Nyx’s mouth, breathing a little objection to the call for piety. Did her mother have it on her face now? Was she on top, in control, well aware of the pleasure as much as the pain she was causing?

Nyx entered the cool dark of the hallway, and the sounds became clearer. She tried to swallow, but found her mouth dry. Her body shook, a betraying wetness present between her legs. Slowly, she peered into the room.

A man she couldn’t recognize right away was thrusting into Fotini, who was on her stomach with her hips raised. He was young, judging by his physique, and he was much more aggressive than any of the partners Nyx had seen her mother with in the past. The teenager recognized a need to cry as she saw the stranger shove her mother’s pretty face into the mattress, but the tears didn’t come. She could hardly breathe even. She just stared, her stomach turning angrily in her stomach.

Then it happened. The man looked back. He must have caught her scent. And Nyx saw who it was.

“Killen…” she said, feeling the nausea come up.

Fotini twisted around, effectively moving him off her. Her eyes were wide and her body flushing pink as she locked eyes with Nyx. “Gods! Nyx, I didn’t—I didn’t think you’d—”

“So this is what got into you earlier,” Nyx hissed, trembling. The tears started to come easily now.

“Well, actually, I was in your mother right now,” the teenage boy corrected with a lazy smirk.

“Shut up!” Nyx screamed.

Killen just laughed. Her mother gathered the blanket to her body while the boy got dressed unhurriedly. “Nyx,” Fotini began.

The girl didn’t let her continue. “Mother he is just a little under half your age. And let’s not forget how much he beat me as a child! How could you!? Are you so possessed that you cannot keep your appetites contained for the sake of your family??” She held up her hands. “Oh, no. Wait. Of course you aren’t! You only think of yourself!”

“Nyx, that’s not true!”

“Then why did you bring someone here again after what happened last time!?”

“Oh about that,” Killen said, raising a lax finger. He had his pants on, his boots in his other hand and his shirt over his muscled shoulder. “That was me.”

Nyx felt the color drain from her face.

The teenager went on, his eyes roving up and down her body, a cruel smile on his lips. “I must say very nice! If you’d like a go Nyx, I have no qualms with indulging the desires of a degenerate. After all, the apple must not fall far from the tree, eh?”

Fotini just closed her eyes, her chin crumpling. The girl stared at her rival—now her most hated enemy—and whispered, “Get out.”

Killen raised an eyebrow, then ducked down to peer into Fotini’s face. The woman looked away, her shoulders hunching around her ears, much as Nyx would do. “Is that what you want, my dear?” When no response came, the boy straightened with a chuckle. “All right. I’ll take my leave of this cesspit then.”

He bumped past Nyx, and as he went, he whispered. “Offer still stands, Nyx the Nitwit.”

The girl leaned away from him, but before she did, her hand moved imperceptibly between them. Killen took no note. Within a moment, she heard the front door shut, and thought of Atalo outside. She turned on her heel and started for the door.

“Nyx!” Fotini called after her.

The teenager stopped and looked back to see Fotini standing at her bedroom doorway, the bedsheets draped around her like a sad gown. Her hair was mussed and her face already tear-stained. “Where are you going?” she asked quietly. She sounded so fragile all of a sudden.

“Away,” Nyx answered hollowly.  “It isn’t safe for me and Atalo here anymore.”

“When will you be back?”

Nyx didn’t answer. She turned and left without further protest. Outside, the teenager took her little brother roughly by the hand, and at his protests, she said, “A-ma needs to be alone.” Even the new bulge in her left pants pocket did little to calm her nerves. They walked and walked until…

They stood outside Taila’s house.

Just as before, Nyx sensed something wrong.  With great foreboding, she went up to knock on the door, but then stopped, remembering Taila’s words.  Slowly, she opened it, and beckoned for Atalo to follow.

Inside, she heard crying.

“Stay here, Atalo,” Nyx said.

“Again?” he whined.

She gave her brother a look, and he muttered sullenly, but took a seat at the dining room table.

Nyx went down the hall and found the sound was coming from Taila’s parents room.  Clearing her throat, she said, “Hello?”

The curtain pulled back, and there stood her friend, her damp hair turned frizzy, her eyes red and puffy from crying. Behind her, in the simple bedroom, knelt Terus, his eyes on Jezah, who lay still with eyes closed on the bed. Her skin was pale as death.

“She’s gone,” Taila said needlessly. Her spine bent as her face contorted with her grief. “Sweet Aelurus, Nyx, my mother is gone!”

Nyx felt the tears cloud her eyes for what seemed the millionth time that night, and hugged her friend tightly. Taila shook in her arms, and she held on fiercely, her personal pain ebbing for the moment in the face of her friend’s need. She glanced down the hall and saw Atalo staring at them, his eyes also shiny with tears. She gestured for the boy to come over, and he ran, hugging them both.

“I’m sorry, Taila,” Nyx breathed. “I’m so sorry…”

____________________________

When Taila’s father left to find the village funerary master, and they were all sitting in Taila’s bedroom, the older girl asked her friend, “You came over for a reason. Did something happen, Nyx?”

She was already shaking her head. “No, it’s nothing. I just wanted to—“

“Nyx, tell me.”

Nyx gazed somberly at her.  She turned to Atalo and said, “Atalo, why don’t you go take Taila’s ball and play with it in the kitchen? Be careful not to break anything.” Her brother pouted, but did as she asked. When he was well out of sight, she said, “I walked in on her this time.”

“Walked in on her? You mean she was–”

“Yes.”

“But so soon after what happened last time?”

“And guess who it was she was with?” Taila frowned and gave a shrug. Nyx closed her eyes and swallowed through a tightening throat. “Killen.” She whispered.

At first, the older girl said nothing. She just stared, her mouth hung open. Then her face grew red. She stood with a stomp and started to pace. “That bastard.” She kicked the wall. “That bastard!”

“Taila, don’t. There’s nothing we can do. Thaddeus will be able to handle it once he gets here. We just need to hold on.”

“And what about your mother? What are you supposed to do in a home where you don’t even feel safe anymore? Where your kin place their own needs over their family’s!?” Taila shook her head. “It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair that my mother is dead before seeing her family grow, and it isn’t fair that yours seems to think it’s okay to kill the one she’s got with her vices!”

Nyx grit her teeth. “Taila, stop. This isn’t helping!” She stood. “Once your father comes back, I think…I think we’re going to go. We can’t stay here when your family has so much to deal with. We’d be intruding.”

Her friend stopped long enough to stare at Nyx. “No.”

“Taila…”

“No. You’re staying. A-pa won’t mind. But I can’t be alone with him. He…this’ll ruin him, Nyx. He loved my A-ma, and I don’t know if I can handle all of this alone. You can borrow my clothes, and you can stay here as long as you’d like. So you’ll stay. You can’t go back home after what happened there. Your mother needs help, but the kind she needs won’t come from you! Let her seek guidance at the temple or something!”

Nyx just nodded slowly, her eyes spacing out from the weight of the night’s events. “Yeah…yes, you’re right.”

Taila’s father returned with the funerary master and Urian, the village temple priest, in tow. They said some prayers, of which Nyx and Atalo joined (with curious looks from Urian) and then plans were made with regards to Taila’s mother’s last wishes and how the funeral rites would be fulfilled, and when. This was talk left to the adults, so Taila, Nyx, and Atalo were excused to go to bed.

It was very late. Taila’s bed was a little bigger than Nyx’s, but it was squeaky and lacked a proper frame. Nyx offered to sleep on the floor, and the older girl refused, stating, “We’ll all fit just fine, Nyx. Don’t worry so much.”

Together they climbed under the sheets, Nyx on the left, lying on her side, Taila on the right, lying on her back, and Atalo sandwiched between them, facing his sister. The boy fell asleep almost immediately, and Nyx gazed at him with a strange combination of love and envy. Despite her exhaustion, both in mind and in body, she felt no closer to sleep. Taila was similarly awake, her eyes staring up at the ceiling. Nyx couldn’t tell in the low light if her friend was crying. Then she heard a wet sniffle and had her answer.

“The last thing I said to my mother was, ‘What would you like for breakfast tomorrow?’ Not, ‘I love you’, just…’What would you like?’ How could it be something so…mundane like that? She didn’t even answer me. She was…she was still breathing then. And then my A-pa came and said she wasn’t anymore. I was thinking of surprising her with something sweet–” she broke off with a sob, her head turning away.

Nyx reached over and touched her friend’s arm. She thought to say something, but found herself stuck. She could only think of all the things she couldn’t do or say—the affections that would have translated into soft caresses and gentle kisses, an almost fervent hope that proximity could squash whatever pain or sadness existed between them.

Taila turned her head back, taking Nyx’s hand in hers. She kissed it, then pressed it to her chest.  “Nyx, I love you. Thank you for being here. I know it wasn’t happy reasons that brought you here, but…thank you.”

“I’ll always be here, Taila.”

“And if you wanted more, I would give it to you. I would give you everything.” Then the girl stiffened. “…Gods, listen to me! She’s grieving over her mother, and I’m getting excited! I’m scum!”

Nyx pulled back her hand hurriedly, and as she did so, her palm brushed her brother’s shoulder. He stirred.  She gave a start, her eyes falling onto his face. He didn’t open his eyes, his features still relaxed. Gently, she laid her hand on his arm.

“When dealing with others, there’s always a choice…but do I know of all the options yet?”

____________________________

Sleep came, though it was fitful, and Nyx later awoke to a dimly lit bedroom. The girl batted her eyes. It was still early, judging by the rosy sky, and Atalo was next to her. Taila, however, was gone. This made the girl sit up. Rubbing her eyes, she slipped out of the bed. The nightshirt Taila had lent was too big, so that it brushed well past her knees. She tiptoed into the hallway and dared to peek into the other bedroom. Taila’s mother was still as they had left her the night before, Terus curled up against her. It was custom for the surviving wife or husband to spend one last night in this way. But Taila was nowhere in sight.

Frowning, Nyx went out into the kitchen only to find the same case there. Outside, where the bee nests and small garden was kept, she found nothing. Then a thought entered the girl’s mind that chilled her blood.

“Oh, Taila no…”

Without even bothering to put on her clothes or fetch some shoes, Nyx ran. She ran through the village, past the rousing merchants and craftsmen, past the sleepy daikuts to the one place she knew her friend would go after last night.

Nyx found Taila sitting on a fence, one of her tuetri clubs over her shoulders as she stared at Killen’s daikut. She approached her, panting.

“Taila, don’t do this,” she managed to get out, before leaning on the fence to catch her breath.

The older girl didn’t even turn her head. “You need to get more active, Nyx. It wasn’t all that long a run from my house to Killen’s, was it?”

“Taila, don’t do this!”

“And why not?” Taila asked, her jaw tight as she frowned at her friend. “Why shouldn’t this shit-box get just what he’s been asking for all these years?”

“Because this is wrong,” Nyx said firmly. “Because this will bring no small amount of trouble for you and your father. Because this will do nothing to help me or Atalo!” She stepped closer, taking Taila’s face in her hands. Reluctantly, her friend met her gaze, and Nyx saw the tears in her eyes. “You aren’t doing this for me, I can see it in your eyes. I don’t want this, Taila. I…I care for you too much to let you do something like this!” She took her friend’s wrists and gently pulled. “Come on. Before someone sees us out here. Your A-pa needs you back home.”

The older girl slowly slid off the fence and with one last dark look over her shoulder, followed Nyx back to her home. Taila began making breakfast just as the funerary master arrived with his attendant and work bag. Nyx changed and left, promising Atalo she’d bring back some of his clothes before they left for erduk.

When she arrived at her home, the suns were over the horizon, their light painting the sky a richer gold. Nyx felt her stomach turn again beneath her smock, but with a staying hand and Atalo in her thoughts, she marched up to the door and went inside.

She found her mother sitting at the kitchen table, an untouched tea cup in her hand. She was dressed now, in a long dark gown, and her eyes were a craggy red, the eyelids puffier than even Taila’s had been.  She stood upon seeing Nyx, tears startling down her cheeks as her chin quivered.

“Nyx you’re back!” she breathed.

“Atalo and I need clothes and our school things,” Nyx said guardedly, her eyes turned away.

“Can you spare a moment? To…to talk?”

The teenager sighed. She looked at Fotini, her brows pressed up and together. “Mother, you need help. That’s all there is to say. You need to see Urian at the temple and find some way to…to deal with this.”

“Yes, I know that now. I was so afraid I’d lost you both…”

“You weren’t going to lose us…” Nyx mumbled. She crossed her arms and scuffed her shoe on the floor. “I just wanted you to see what Thad and I have been trying to tell you all this time.” Then with great pain, she added, “Maybe you had to be with Killen to see that.”

Fotini flinched as though struck. “I—it wasn’t…” she let out a harsh sigh, a shaky hand going to rub at her mouth as she hugged herself with her other arm.  “Nyx, I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t…I didn’t know who he was! It’s been years since I’ve seen that despicable boy!”

“That doesn’t make it any better,” Nyx said with a deep scowl.

“No, it doesn’t.” Fotini took a tentative step forward, then another. When Nyx didn’t move away, her mother enveloped her in a hug. “I’m sorry, Nyx. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

The teenager reached carefully around her mother’s waist and squeezed, her face turning into the older woman’s collar bone. “A-ma…promise me you’ll see Urian. I won’t mention any of this to Thaddeus when he comes, but promise me, or I’ll go to the temple myself!”

“I promise. I’ll do it Nyx, just…come home. I don’t like an empty house.”

“I know, A-ma. We’ll…I’ll think about it.”

“Okay. That’s okay.” The woman pulled back with a quivering smile, more tears slipping from her eyes. She turned her face toward the window, and with a wistful look, said, “I was just sitting there, and I was thinking…Your father is never coming home.”

The statement was so sudden that Nyx only batted her eyes.

Fotini looked at her daughter, wiping at her cheeks. “You’re so much like him, it frustrates and delights me at the same time. I don’t know what to say to you because of it. Alvis was…always a complicated man.” The woman chuckled. “I try to garden, like he once did. He had a beautiful spice garden you know, and we were never in short supply of herbs and new ingredients to use. The spices are all gone now. Our personal crops would yield more if I had a better mind for it.” She sighed, her smile waning. “I’m not very good at growing things.”

Nyx bit her lip, then touched her mother’s arm. “You do fine, A-ma.” When no further response came, she turned with the intention to get her and Atalo’s things, but then she stopped when she remembered something important. “A-ma, I thought you should know,” she paused and took a breath. “Taila’s mother died last night.”

“Oh gods!” The woman looked at her in genuine surprise, her hand at her throat. “How is Taila and her father doing?”

“As well as can be expected. I think they’re going to bury her soon.”

“I’ll be sure to do something for them, then.”

Nyx gave a nod and retrieved the items she sought, then left with a final hug from her mother. She ran all the way back to Taila’s. Being on the opposite side of the village from the erduk meant that she and Atalo had to hustle to make it in time for their day’s lessons. They stood in the kitchen with Taila for goodbyes.

“I wish I could stay here with you, Taila.”

“It’s okay, Nyx. I know how Leander gets with you. Just be sure to put a tack on Killen’s seat for me.”

“I’m sure that would go over well.”

Their laughter was weak and short-lived. It was hard keeping up the normal exchange when so many things about their lives were different now.

Nyx ruffled her brother’s hair. “I think I’m going to let Atalo go back home, just so that my mother doesn’t do anything rash, but I’ll come back here after erduk, okay? Do you want me to tell Ampelos?”

Taila nodded. “Yes. He should know. I’d do it myself but,” she thumbed weakly over her shoulder.

“It’s okay.” Nyx loitered, knowing she and her brother needed to hurry, but something kept her rooted. Chewing her lip she looked at her friend, who gazed back at her inquisitively. She considered hugging the older girl. Maybe even being so bold as to kiss her on the cheek.

The power comes in realizing there’s a choice, and in so choosing, one commits themselves to a path they are a lot more likely to succeed by.

She thought of her mother, her eyes on the garden outside their daikut, lamenting the lack of spices in her life since A-pa had disappeared.

Nyx turned and guided Atalo to the door. “See you tonight, then…”

“Yeah, see you Nyx.”

“Bye Taila!” Atalo cried.

Taila’s smile widened for a moment. “Bye lil’ flea.”

Nyx and Atalo arrived to erduk just in time. As Nyx went to her usual seat in Leander’s room, she paused to whisper into Ampelos’s ear to speak with her during their lunch break. He blushed a deep red and nodded. The girl felt Killen’s eyes on her, and rather than ignore him, she turned and stared at him. The teenage boy, who had been leaning onto his desk, straightened up, his smirk dying on his lips as he frowned. Nyx smiled at him slowly, her hand patting the bulge in her pocket from the night before.

The boy’s face fell, and he searched his pants. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, his eyes widened and he stared, open mouthed. The girl took a seat and tried to keep her body from shivering too much. With her leverage, she felt safe, at least for the time being.

“You’d think after seven years, Killen would learn to quit bumping into me. He’s really got to learn to read history, the cajeck.”

Back to Chapter 30.3 | Forward to Six Tales of Arachne

1. ‘Nude’ by Radiohead, from the album ‘In Rainbows’. Self-released, 2007.

Of course, things didn’t take off right then and there.  As much as Elmiryn would have liked to go marching straight into the forest to enact her half-baked plan, there was still the present to deal with–namely the wounded.  It appeared that the Lycans had been quicker than the warrior in finding Nyx, a point that annoyed her for unknown reasons, but she paid this little mind.  Of the wolfish party, at least half had been cut down in very little time by the beast.  This fact did not surprise Elmiryn in the slightest, and though she did not laugh at their demise, she did not feel sorry for them either.  Encounters of this nature were a crucible of sorts that burned away those who could not stand the test.  She had seen it dozens of time in war, and given her life as it was now, she expected to see it dozens of times more.  These men and women were more than just warriors–they were tough spiritual beings.  They would either get over this, or die trying.

…But this road of tribulation was not a lonely one, something the redhead was eternally grateful for.  Always were there a chosen few who just had a knack for surviving.  The wizards, Quincy and Hakeem, were clearly possessed with this extraordinary mettle.  Sedwick as well.  The man in question had been slashed in the gut by a stray swipe by the beast, yet he still stood on his own two feet, hands seeping with blue blood as he gripped his abdomen.  Quincy argued with him at length to lay down and stop moving, but the ex-blacksmith fended off her attempts at first aid.

“Damn it, woman!  These therians aren’t the only fast healers!” he ground out, leaning against a tree with a scowl.

Quincy threw her hands up into the air.  ”Oh!  Fine!  Well when your body heals shut with your guts at your feet, don’t come looking for me to put you right again!”  She stomped away, muttering about, “Arrogant magic-types and their confounded masochism…”

Elmiryn approached the man as they both watched the brunette move to help the other wounded.  With little to nothing to work with, Quincy was determined to do what she could.  The warrior didn’t say anything, but she thought she saw a sort of fervor there, fueled by something unquenchable.  It reminded her of her newfound addiction, so she averted her eyes.  Did the wizard blame herself for what happened to Nyx?  Elmiryn was tempted to do the same, but deep inside, she knew that sometimes seconds were all a person had to act on.

It was one of the trials of an adventurer.  And who was to say they weren’t just that?  Adventurers.  The warrior had always wanted to be the hero of a story.  Meznik had called her out on the old dream–but that was all it was.  An old dream.  Elmiryn had seen enough on the battlefield to know that one man’s hero was another man’s villain, and even then, the lines were indefinite.

“You should’ve let her look at it, at least,” Elmiryn admonished Sedwick lightly.

The man glanced at her sideways.  ”I may not heal as quickly as Nyx or the Lycans, but I will heal, and I will live.  What about you?  How do you feel?”  His breath was slow.  Labored.

“I want to get moving,” the woman said.  ”I may not even wait for the others.  I’m not sure how much time I have.”

Sedwick chuckled darkly.  ”We always seem to be running…” but the man winced, a gasp slipping his pale lips.  His white eyes fluttered as he stared at his wound.  His hands came away, and the woman grimaced to see the elemental’s fatty flesh gushing with blood.

Elmiryn let her dead arm hang at her side and placed a firm hand on the man’s shoulder.  ”Sedwick, sit.”

As she guided the man down with strong suggestion, Sedwick offered little fight, the will he’d wielded against Quincy waning in the face of his fleeing strength.  Swallowing audibly, he looked at Elmiryn with brows pressed together.

“I…feel dizzy.”

“See?  Look where your bravado’s gotten you now, Sed,” Elmiryn scolded.  ”Don’t you remember what Quincy told us about her time in the medicine hut?  All those people she treated?  An injury from the beast isn’t like a normal injury.  I think you’re going to have to sit this one out.”

“To hell with that,” the man snarled, starting to sit up, “Nyx is–” but he broke off with a grunt, his head rocking back into the soil.

Elmiryn turned her head, her eyes wide.  ”Hey!  Someone get over here, quick!”

Sedwick grabbed her arm, pulling at her.  ”I’m fine!” and after he stilled his body, the look on his face seemed to confirm this.  The man was pale and shivering, but he wasn’t racked with pain, and his voice was strong and steady.  ”But maybe…you’re right, Elle.”  He sighed, covering his face with one bloody hand.  ”I don’t know if I can be of any help anymore.”

Elmiryn patted Sedwick’s shoulder.  ”We’ve only got one more Road to take before we find what we need, Sed.  Don’t worry about it.  You helped us a great deal.  Nadi will be proud.”

He smiled weakly, the scar on the side of his face wrinkling.  ”What’s your plan from here?  I thought I heard you mentioning something before, with Quincy and Hakeem.”

The warrior puckered her lips and exhaled through her nose.  Looking back over her shoulder, she saw Quincy talking with one of the walking injured.  Hakeem was rushing to the aid of the Lycan archer woman, who had the arm of another over her shoulders.  A long-haired man, fair of face.  He looked shocked but otherwise whole.

Elmiryn looked back at Sedwick. “I want to find Nyx’s Twin.”

Sedwick’s eyebrows rose high.  ”Her?  Why?”

“She’s been in the forest about as long as Hakeem stayed in the village.  She’s a survivor.  Having had to live with that threat for that long with nowhere else to go, she would need to know where to avoid the beast.  Plus…” the woman trailed off.

The man frowned.  ”What is it?”

Elmiryn shook her head.  ”This all seems too convenient.  These obstacles we’ve come across.  I’m starting to feel like they were set there just for us.  All of us.  We’re related to the beast somehow, and I gotta find out what that connection is.  The Twin is the only one I’m not sure about, so I gotta find her.  Ask her questions.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll be happy to answer them.”

They shared a dark chuckle.

A glance over her shoulder told the warrior that her time for departure was nearing.  A messenger had already been sent to the village, and all that could be done for the injured had been covered.  Clothes torn for bandages, herbal roots dug up and chewed, bones set, cuts stopped…Quincy toiled at the heart of this, sweat on her brow, the exhaustion bringing her age about her in ways unexpected–the dullness of her gaze, the weary rote motions of her hands, the slightest slump of her shoulders…

Their eyes met, and Elmiryn lingered there…and found sentiments reflected.  Again, she looked away.

“Sedwick, I don’t think I’ll be seeing you again after this.  Not for a long time.”

The man gazed up at her, his face tightening in confusion.  ”What do you mean?  You aren’t coming back to the village?  Ever?”

The woman shook her head.  ”When you go back, you’ll probably hear things.  Just know that I didn’t intend for anyone to get hurt.  All I wanted was to help Nyx.  The Lycans either understand that, or they don’t.”

She gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.  ”It…was an honor fighting at your side, Sedwick of Gamath.”

Sedwick stared at her.  Then his face screwed up.  ”Oh sod off with that formal bullshit, Elle.  We both know that isn’t you.”

The woman burst out in a hearty laugh, her lips spreading wide to show her full smile.  ”Yeah.  Yeah, okay, you’re right.”  She gazed at him meaningfully, then gave a nod.  ”I’ll see ya soon, Sed.”

The man returned the nod.  ”Safe travels, you.  Even if you can’t visit, send a letter.  One of the townspeople will bring it to me.”

“Will do.”

Elmiryn stood, and with one last grin, she turned and approached Quincy from behind.  The wizard was currently checking the fair-faced Lycan’s eyes using a lit match.  The female archer still supported him, her face hard but telling of worry by the lines around her eyes and the deep wrinkle in her brow.  Behind them stood Hakeem and another dark-haired Lycan man, with short spiky hair and a stoic face.

“I’m going,” she said, to no one in particular.

All stopped to look at her.

Quincy narrowed an eye at her as she blew out the match.  ”Just like that?  You’re just going to ‘go’?”

Elmiryn shrugged.  ”Sure.  Why not?”

The brunette snorted, turning her eyes back to the long-haired Lycan.  ”Gudahi, I think you may have a slight concussion, but there’s no way for me to be sure.  And judging by the tenderness of your ribs, some of them may be dislocated or worse.  Just stay and wait until help arrives.”

The man was already shaking his head.  ”I’m fine.  I’m whole.  I can fight.”

“I really think you should–”

“The beast is it dead?”

Quincy faltered at that.  With a glance at Elmiryn, she cleared her throat and said, “Ah.  We’re…not sure.”

The man squinted at her.  ”How can you not be sure?”

The archer woman shook her head.  ”Gudahi, you did not see.  The shadows took the beast, and Nyx as well.  It seemed trapped by its fate.”

“Yet you cannot say for certain if it is dead or not!?”

“It was alive when it vanished, but it was…how do you say?  Hutkukli.”

“It was…unwilling?”

“Yes.”

The man’s features sucked in as his lips pressed together and his nostrils flared. With a glint in his eye, he said, “I am a warrior.  I have sworn to see the beast slain.  If it has not been laid to waste, then I will not rest!”

Quincy held up her hands, the frustration clear on her face.  ”But why tempt fate?”

Elmiryn snorted.  ”Fate?”

Again, everyone turned to look at her.  The warrior grinned sardonically as she gestured at the destruction around them.  ”This isn’t fate!  This is someone else’s plan!  There’s a link here, and we’re just not seeing it!”

“And your answer is to go looking for something called a Twin?”

“Nyx’s animal counterpart,” Hakeem explained.

Elmiryn raised an eyebrow at him, and the man-boy held up his hands.  ”The girl explained things to me.  She didn’t want everyone to know,” and here his eyes flickered in the direction of Quincy–not on her–but enough for the warrior to understand who was to be excluded to this knowledge, “But given the nature of the situation, I can see no other way.”

“What are you all talking about?” Quincy snapped impatiently.

“Nyx’s soul is split,” Elmiryn said.  ”The animal part of her spirit–because every therian has one–has a will of its own.  It feels and thinks differently from Nyx, and yet they’ve been stuck in the same body.  It’s not madness, its a spiritual thing.” She added the last part with a measure of bite, as if daring anyone to say anything.

Naturally, the wizard took her up on that offer.  ”As if that’s any better.”

“When we came here, the animal, or the Twin, as we’ve taken to calling her, became separated and lost.  Nyx only discovered the damn thing recently, and it’s our only lead to getting her back.”

“Yes.  I was there when she found the animal,” the archer woman said solemnly.  She looked into Elmiryn’s eyes.  ”I swore to the dreamwalker my aid, and she shall have it.”

“Well!”  Gudahi pulled away from the archer.  ”How can I abandon my pet at such a time of need?”

The man attempted a heroic pose, but started to keel backwards, and Makka, with a roll of his eyes, pushed him back.  Sanuye caught him as he pitched forward, and Gudahi spared her a sheepish grin.

Quincy placed her hands on her hips.  ”You’re all still riding on the possibility that Nyx isn’t dead!  I was the closest!  I saw!  She had a claw the size of a cannon in her stomach!  You therians are tough, and with her as a champion, she’s even tougher, but she wasn’t invincible!  If a therian’s heart or brain is destroyed, if enough damage done to the body, or even enough damage done to the spinal cord, they…are…dead.”  She looked around at them all.  ”Or is this scene of death and absolute annihilation not impressive enough for you!?”

Elmiryn spat at the wizard’s feet.  ”It’s fine, Quincy.  It’s fucking fine.  Don’t worry about it.  I guess our deal is done.  You got back your sword–sort of–and you got back your husband–sort of–no offense,” she added to Hakeem.  The wizard shrugged in response.  The warrior fastened her cool gaze back onto her rival and spared a harsh smile.  ”I even got Nyx back…for a short while.  You want to do what you want to do?  I understand that.   My plan’s not fully cooked, I’m running on very little wine, my arm is apparently dead, I have no weapons, and I’ve got no idea where to start looking for the Twin.  I just know I gotta do something because I gave a promise, and I’m not stopping until I have Nyx back–alive or dead.”  After a pause she added.  ”I’d prefer to have her very alive, though.  Thus my haste.  Thus my not giving a frosty fuck what you think.”

The woman turned and started walking.

Quincy’s voice was sharp.  ”Tai’undu, you don’t have to use the same guilt trick!  I never said I wasn’t going to go, moron.”

Elmiryn paused and looked over her shoulder, nonplussed.  ”Oh.”

QUINCY_________________________

Makka offered to stay.  Quincy had only been introduced to him in a passing second, and had required a reintroduction before his name stuck, but she was ever grateful that there was at least one able bodied person left behind with the wounded.  Given the time since they’d sent their messenger, she’d guess it would be less than half an hour before help arrived with better supplies.  After emergency medicine was applied, it was a long and careful trek back home for those poor men.  Sedwick was going with them, and she resisted the urge to say, “I told you so,” and gave the elemental a goodbye peck on the cheek instead.

Ah, but her night was far from over.

Elmiryn’s plan so far had support from Hakeem, Sanuye, Gudahi, and Quincy herself.  Five people.  Like the five roads they’d been traveling.  The wizard wondered idly if it was a coincidence, or someone else’s design, as the warrior saw it.  Whatever the situation, she felt a creeping sense of foreboding about the whole ordeal.

They stood in a circle at the edge of the clearing, discussing their next move.

“We need to know where to start looking first.  If we waste time in an unlikely spot, this will have been for nothing.” Elmiryn held a hand out to Sanuye and Gudahi.  ”You’ve been hunting the beast a long time.  From the places its attacked, can you think of anywhere a creature like the Twin might take to hiding?”

The two looked at each other.

The woman spoke first.  ”The beast attacked many places…”

Gudahi started to cross his arms, but when this weight pressed on his upper ribs, he winced and relaxed them back at his sides.  Quincy gave him a sharp look, her lips pursing.  ”Well,” he began, his look still tender.  ”She’ll need a source of water, and plenty of game to hunt.  With the beast ranging about, a lot of game has been scared off–”

“Except for spirits,” Hakeem said.

Sanuye grinned wolfishly.  ”Ah!  Ohtak!  The spirit gates!”

Elmiryn squinted her eyes, and felt her swollen eye tighten.  ”I’m guessing those are the same as the ones we’ve been using?”

Gudahi held up a finger.  ”There is but one here that you could use.  The other paths are special to those spirits, for the way they take is dangerous.”

“But if we narrow it down to what gates are close to water…” Hakeem mused aloud.

The Lycan man smirked.  ”I know just the one.”

Quincy stared around at them all.  ”And how far away is this place?”

The Lycans’ smiles faded.  ”Ah.  There’s the inconvenient part,” Gudahi said.

“How so?”

“For a beast such as we hunt, it is a day’s full run.  Us Lycan’s can get there in a day and a half without pausing for rest.  With three humans, one of which is a child?  It will take nearly three days.”

“Shit,” Elmiryn muttered.  ”I’ll need a drink somehow, or…” she trailed off.

Quincy narrowed her eyes at her.  Or what…?

Reluctantly, the wizard patted her magic pouch.  ”I have a small tonic with me…for emergencies.  You can sip that as we go.”

Elmiryn gave a terse nod.  The brunette couldn’t tell if the other woman was concealing relief or a sense of dismay.  ”Good,” she said.

Gudahi clapped his hands, rubbing them eagerly. “It is settled then!  Now let us be off!  I am eager to find this Twin and be reunited with my precious Nyx!”

Quincy tried to stifle a grin as Elmiryn spared the man a look that would slay a dragon.  It was nice not being the target for once.

ARTEMIS________________________

They were watching from their place of observance, shrouded in aeons of celestial clusters, thickly woven continuity, and the relativity of an age unseen.  They watched through lenses, so tiny in comparison to their station, that their view angled to a single plane of existence, where one continuance branched and splintered into a hundred different possibilities, looped and played over in simultaneity.  The punchlines for jokes came in the spread of hundreds of thousands of years.  A blink of an eye.  No.  Less than that.  The act of being, of existing, was a complicated one for them.  They were not fractured or divided amongst themselves, the core of their spirit always remaining–but they had their incarnations.  Their avatars.  Their greater minds, who in their ascendancy, influenced their lower minds in such subtle ways as to create a unity of motive that could not be mistaken for another spirit.  In one world, they may be rulers of the skies, while in others they may lurk beneath the soil.  In one mortal plane, they may be merciful, in another, vengeful.  To say that they were not mercurial creatures would be something of a lie.  Worlds die.  Civilizations rise and fall.

Being a god made even the epic seem droll.

Lacertli was different, however.  Artemis never really understood how he sympathized so with mortality, but then again, her existence was based in the conquering of such.  Not direct opposites, per se, but they were certainly of a different cloth.  The way of the predator, the game of life or death, it was all in her domain.  She was the Huntress.

He was the Survivor.

Halward had once said the god was like a wayward son.  Artemis just thought he was amusing.

Their lenses, the avatars they used, were concealed in the wilds of the forest.  Before them was the drama of the battle against the beast, and the brave few who fought it.  The goddess had been audience to every plight the Lycans experienced since their birth as a race, but these newcomers had their own story, their own struggle of which she was not as intimate with.  As a god, there was a constant flood of knowledge from all reaches of the world, but it went without saying that certain events garnered more attention than others.  But the struggles of these outsiders had her attention now, that was for sure.

“Why didst thou tell the warrior about us?” Lacertli asked, his reptilian face turning her way in the dark.

Artemis smirked at him.  ”Why didn’t thou tell me about her affliction?”

“It is not my business to steer thine attention, anymore than it is thy business to inquire about mine.”

“But isn’t it just so, brother?  She is both our business now.”

“You’re playing games.”

Now her face tensed in a mild scowl.  ”The Hunt is a contest, to be sure, but do not mistake it for a thing of folly.”

“But you enjoy it,” Lacertli said, his pointed tongue slithering past his slim lips.  ”You take what you don’t need.”

“I do not endorse gluttony or zealousness, and I would have thee cease with such slander!  I know the way of Harmony and honor it.”

The lizard king hissed.  ”Dost thou?  And what of this new quarry you see fit to play with?”

Artemis pouted.  ”Of course.  After a millenia left without worthy prey, thou wouldst see fit to ruin it.  Very well.” She sighed dramatically and held up her hands.  ”I only wished to test the warrior.  To see the depth of her potential.”

“And were you disappointed?”

At this the goddess smiled.  ”Nay, brother.  She is perfect.”

“Good.  Now whilst thou becomes encumbered by thy new obsession, the threat thy quarry poses will be diminished in the flames of thy mania.”

At this the woman laughed outright, stirring the forest in a great strong wind.  ”Lacertli.  Surely you aren’t afraid of her?”

The god grunted.  ”Afraid?  No.  Never that.  Unlike our brothers and sisters, should Gehenna come, I shall welcome it.”

Now the goddess’s smile waned, and she stepped closer to better peer into her brother’s eyes.  ”Thou thinks she will bring about our end?”

“I believe she is involved in something sinister.  Something black and rotted.  Something I warned Halward of, but–”

“Still thy tongue, brother,” Artemis snapped.  ”We are not the only ones whose senses stretch across universes.”

“A war is coming,” Lacertli growled.  ”It threatens all of Harmony and those under it!”

“And what is thine intention then?” Then Artemis eyebrows rose high.  ”Ah!  Thy new champion!  Of course.  In utilizing her, you have your position of influence!”

“She is much more than a pawn, but aye, that is one advantage.”

“More than a pawn?  Lacertli, she is the very extension of thy will!  Is this why you’ve taken so long in choosing a champion?  Because thou wanted to care for them first?”

Lacertli shook his head.  ”Caring?  Try respecting the very foundations upon which our existences as gods are built.  It marks the difference between being forgotten, being hated, and being loved.”

“And what would you rather be?  Loved?”

The lizard king did not answer for a long time.  Then he whispered, “Forgotten.”

He turned to leave, his form returning to his small lizard form.  As he went, the goddess heard him say, “Be wary, Artemis.  Thy prey is like nothing thou hast seen before.  If thou underestimates Elmiryn and the circumstances she’s in, thou willst regret it.”

Back to Chapter 30.3 | Forward to Honey & Spice

Nothing made sense to me as I was blasted off my feet, tree branches clawing at my clothes and skin.  The sharp pain was numbed by the sudden surprise.  I cartwheeled through the air, limbs and senses in a disarray as I felt the cold high winds whip around me.  I caught flashes of the earth below and found myself stories high.  As I fell, I screamed out, my voice shrill, and I saw the beast flinch back.

When I hit the ground, I had a crazy moment where I believed that the world had broken beneath me–but then I realized it was the sound of my own bones breaking.  I’d fallen at a bad angle with my legs bending in places they shouldn’t have been.  My back twisted to the side and I slumped backwards onto the ground.  In hindsight, the pain was not the worst I’d ever felt–but I wouldn’t have guessed it at the time!  I thought I was dying.  I couldn’t move–could hardly breathe even.  Blood gurgled up my throat and my eyes rolled up for an upside down view of what was happening.

The beast had been stunned somehow, its head bowed, its body lowered to the ground.  Taking advantage of its vulnerability, I saw Makka daringly spearing the beast from the front.  Sedwick had gone completely watery, and using his amorphous form, he catapulted Gudahi up onto the beast’s back.  The Lycan flipped once and landed with some difficulty.  Once his balance was gained, he proceeded to stab at the back of the beast’s massive head.

I heard the crunch of leaves and my eyes rolled to the side to see Hakeem approaching.

Behind him was Quincy.

She was gripping a boomerang with her right hand, and in the crook of that arm, she cradled the left hand, which was bandaged up from cloth.

“Tai’undu, I overdid it again…” she muttered, hurrying to kneel at my side.  Up closer, I could see that her left hand was bleeding through the fabric.  ”Gods, Ailuran.  You’re lucky you’re a champion now–I don’t think even one of your kind could survive damage this extensive!”

Hakeem came to my other side, his young face bunched.  ”Nyx, if we move you into a proper position, will your healing ability kick in?”

Grimacing, I struggled to raise a hand.  ”S-Sit…sit me up!”

At this, the married couple’s eyes met over me, their faces tense.

I could hear the air tremble as the beast let out a warble that signaled our reprieve was ending.  ”Hurry!” I gurgled.

All hesitation gone, both wizards took a hold of my hands and my shoulders and lifted me up.  I couldn’t help it.  I screamed, the sound hoarse and drawn out, my blood slipping past my trembling lips and staining my clothes.  But even as the pain sought to undo me, I could feel my ribs and spine begin to heal, torn muscles regaining their strength and vitality at a speed I’d never known before.  Was it as Quincy said?  Was I only alive because I was a champion?

If it weren’t for the sounds of the beast rousing from its stupor, I’m certain we would have heard my bones snapping and fusing back together.

Weakly, I gestured at my legs.  ”Now these!”

Quincy and Hakeem did as I asked them, and I could feel my legs begin to right themselves, the crooked bends vanishing.  It wasn’t moving fast enough for me, and without thinking I clung to Quincy, my fingers digging into her skin, tears streaming down my face.

“Gods!” I choked out.

She braced herself as my weight began to shift onto her, my body feeling cold.  I closed my eyes and felt everything become heavier.

“Nyx, you have to get a grip!” I could hear her say from far off.

My eyelids reluctantly slid open, eyes still rolling in their sockets.  My vision was blurry.  I could hear a strange voice scream, hear the death of the forest trees as they were uprooted from their only homes, feel the earth trembling in fear beneath us.  The wizards’ faces swam over me, blending into the black smear of the sky.  I could hear more voices–hoots and hollers.  Had others come?  Was I just hallucinating?  The beast’s roar was like thunder in my head, the intensity once more striking me in pain.  My ears would ring for days after this…if I survived, that is.

And as I considered passing out, I saw His golden gaze from the reaches of an ash tree not far from us.

My heart gave a stir, my eyes widening as I tried to get a better look.  My tongue pressed into the roof of my mouth, the alkaline taste of my own blood sharpening my senses somehow.  My throat moved in a swallow.

“Sir?” I breathed.

Quincy started pulling me up by the arms.  ”Ailuran, get it together, we have to run!” she shouted.

“Run?” I murmured with a frown.  My gaze swiveled back onto the brunette’s face.  ”Where…where are we gonna go?”

“Nyx, come on!” Hakeem said, pulling on my hand.

My frown deepened and I started to fight them.  ”No.  No!”

Quincy grabbed me around the chest and hefted me up, pain pressing down on me from the suddenness of the motion, the sensations dull but suffocating.  I tried to pry the woman’s hands off me.  Sound started to come in clearer, despite the ringing in my ears, and I could better hear the cries of many battling the beast.  More had come to risk their lives.  People were suffering.

“NO!” I shouted.

What was the use? I thought wildly.  How could we run from this creature, who could so easily catch us like the prey we were?  There was no helping it.  We had to stand our ground.  And if the others were brave enough to do it…no.  No, I would not let myself run away again.  Even if I wanted to.  Even if every inch of me screamed for it.  People we hardly knew were risking their lives to help us, I’d be damned if I cut out on them.  I had a responsibility, didn’t I?  I was a champion.

This is my path, isn’t it, sir?

“This battle cannot be won!  We have to regroup!” Quincy argued in my ear.

I squeezed her wounded left hand, and the woman cried out, releasing me.  Hakeem tried to snatch at my legs, but I danced away from him.  ”I can stop this!”

“Nyx, don’t be a fool!” He shouted, his face drawn in wild incredulity.

“Trust me, Hakeem!”

The wizard hesitated at this, and I took this moment to stumble off into an awkward run toward the beast.  My limbs protested all of these heroics, but I ignored them.  I could take a beating better than anyone there.  I heard Hakeem shout after me, but didn’t stop to look back.

In all the time it took me to heal, so many things had happened.  Sanuye was there now with at least four others.  Her teeth were bared in ferocity as she rained the beast with arrows from her long bow.  There were crushed and mangled corpses littering the newly created clearing—meaning that our reinforcements had been cut down in short time.  Off to the side, I saw Makka dragging Sedwick out of danger, the elemental clutching at what looked like a serious wound in his gut.  It looked as if Gudahi had managed to cut off some of the beast’s fan-like ears, but now he was on the ground, trying to find an opening for a fatal blow.  The beast itself had shifted from its original position to better tower over its prey.  Now that its body was no longer concealed by the forest canopy, it was easier to see the magnitude of the danger we faced.

I could see Gudahi flit through the monster’s hind legs, his spear striking for its back tendon.  But with one timely kick, he was sent flying into the woods.

“Gudahi!” I screamed.

The beast let out a sharp cry, flinching, its ears turning flat on its massive head.

Startled, I slowed to watch as the creature shook its ears out, its long tongue flashing out to lick its chops.  Everyone stopped and turned to look at me, and I gazed back at them with equal bemusement.

Hesitantly, I cupped my hands, and screamed out as loud as I could, “Hey!”

The creature let out another cry, this time going so far as to slink close to the ground and step back.  Its ears quivered on its head as they flattened once more.  Feeling my heart lift.  I pressed in, screaming more at it.

“You ugly bastard!  Begone!  Abomination!  Horrible BEAST!”

Each time I screamed, the creature stepped back, more and more.  The Lycans pressed in, trying to take advantage of the situation, but they couldn’t seem to find that killing blow that would end the beast.  Its breast seemed too thick, its neck devoid of any vital veins or nerves that would incapacitate it.

Then things turned.

The creature stopped retreating, stopped flinching.  Instead, it seemed to become angrier and angrier.  It slammed its paws onto the ground, its claws gouging out pounds and pounds of earth.  Great stones rained on the few Lycan warriors left standing, and they were forced to retreat.

Alarmed, I tried screaming louder, pushing my diaphragm and expanding my throat muscles.  ”DIE, DAMN YOU!”

A muted boom could be heard, and I saw the force of my voice carve a way through the churned earth…

But the creature roared, and the force of it seemed to swallow my sonic attack as if it weren’t even there.  It came rushing at me like a great wind, and I was blasted back, a sharp pain in my ears like someone had stabbed my ear drums with a knife.  I could feel the blood trickle from my ear canals, my eyes rolling once more as I lay flat on my back, stunned.  Whereas before my hearing had simply been lessened, this time all I could hear was that infernal ringing.  I could feel the earth tremble as the beast came near.

Soon it was looming over me, its maggoty eye raining its putrid bugs on my face.  The beast bared its teeth at me, and with a low snarl, it raised its paw and slammed it down…

QUINCY_________________________

After following the arnica petals, Quincy had been aware that things were not right even before the pugot appeared.  She hadn’t immediately known what it was, or even that its intent was to eat her, but she did know that it was a predatory spirit.  Still, her curiosity got the better of her when the slimy devil revealed itself.

“You’re a brave one to go stalking these forests with the beast lurking about,” she’d said.

The spirit giggled.  ”And you’re a tasty meal that was silly enough to do the same!”

It attacked her, and while she was able to fend it off and escape, the damned thing bit off her left hand’s pinky and ring finger at the second knuckle.  It would have had more, if it hadn’t been for her boots.  She hadn’t told the others what they did when she’d picked them back at the dwarven settlement, but after a quick identification ritual, she learned her new boots brought misfortune to those who tried to eat her.  But as was the case with most wizardry items, there was a catch—the boots did in fact bring misfortune to any who would try to eat Quincy, as was evidenced by what occurred to Tonatiuh and the pugot.  What it failed to mention was that any creature was allowed one bite before this came into effect.  So the pugot had a bite of the woman’s fingers, but at least she was able to get away.

But surviving was the point, wasn’t it?  Live to fight another day, and all that.  Elmiryn would consider it giving up, but the brunette saw it more as a tactical retreat.

That said, Quincy didn’t understand Nyx’s sudden drive.  The battle was clearly hopeless at this point–the beast was unmoved by the Lycans’ skills or her magic.  They sought its weak points only to realize it had none.  Its great size and reach reduced all advantages to nothing.  Given what she’d learned from the Lycans she’d treated, she wasn’t even sure how they’d managed to survive for so long.  What else could the Ailuran do?  What else could any of them do?

It’s more important that we survive this than die fighting—we need to formulate a new strategy, gather a bigger fighting force.  We cannot win like this!  The woman thought.

But as the Ailuran fought against Quincy and Hakeem’s grip, the woman saw that this logic was clearly not on the girl’s mind.

“NO!” she shouted.

“This battle cannot be won!  We have to regroup!” Quincy snarled, struggling to keep a hold.

Absently, the woman thought, Elmiryn will try to kill me if something happens to this little idiot.

The struggle was decided when Nyx purposefully squeezed Quincy’s injured hand.  She cried out, releasing the Ailuran.  Hakeem tried to stop the girl, but off she went, stumbling to her doom.  Afterwards, the woman told herself she tried.  She said it over and over and fought to keep the vision of Graziano’s corpse out of her head.

She tried.  She tried.

Then she saw why it was they hadn’t been destroyed yet.  Nyx’s voice seemed to have an effect on the beast, much like it did in the battle against Tonatiuh.  In retrospect, the wizard saw that each time the girl had screamed, whether in pain or out of fear, the beast had been staggered, buying them all more time.  Against all odds, it seemed they could win this battle, and Quincy’s hopes began to lift.

Of course, it wasn’t to last.

Somehow, the monster fought against the girl’s powerful voice, and in a cruel twist, it proved to have a sonic force of its own.  With one strong blast, it had Nyx on her back.  The sound had affected them all, and Quincy was on the ground with Hakeem, yelling and clutching at her ears.  She was aware of the beast moving toward Nyx, but couldn’t move herself to intervene.  She just watched, a cold feeling entering her gut, as the monster raised its massive claw and slammed it down on the girl.

Everything fell silent after that.  No one moved.  The beast seemed content to linger there, to better savor its victory.

The force of the slam sent Nyx into the ground a good few inches.  One of its claws buried itself in the girl’s gut, her blood mixing with the black ichor that stained the beast’s paws.  Her entire lower body was swallowed beneath the creature’s great palm.

This didn’t last either.

A blackness started to sweep beneath them both, like a vast shadow, but nothing loomed overhead.  A dark smoke emanated from the ground, and Quincy could see the veins in the beast’s naked paw bulge out.  The creature let out a low cry and tried to pull its paw away, but it seemed stuck.  Its struggles grew more frantic as it fought with all its might to become free.  The Lycans yelled as they avoided the sweep of its massive tail.  Nyx stared up at the beast with glazed eyes, her face stained with her own blood spray.  An expression of anguish was frozen there.  Quincy thought it was a look haunted with understanding…but of what?

Then the beast and the Ailuran began to sink into the ground.

The monster shrieked and fought, but try as it might, it could not stop its descent into the shadows with Nyx.

All present watched, stunned, as the beast’s massive form sank into the earth, the shadow that took it receding as it went.  Soon Nyx, the monster, and the shadow were gone.

Quincy was the first to rise to her feet.  Swaying, she walked to the place where Nyx had lain.  Then she turned her eyes on to the others.  ”She’s gone…” she said.

“Who’s gone?”

The brunette closed her eyes at the voice, but slowly she turned to face the speaker.  When she opened her eyes, she saw Elmiryn standing there, cradling her arm, her face pale.  Panting, she stepped closer.

“Quincy, who’s gone?” she demanded fiercely.

ELMIRYN________________________

Words did not slip to her through the dark of the forest, no illuminating messages, no taunting thoughts.  Meznik was absent, as was all sense of regret or remorse.  She was barreling towards a fate shrouded in mystery and chaos, but she would happily meet this end if all it meant was keeping her friend safe.  She had promised.  The woman had promised to be there, and never had she cared so much to keep such a promise.  Harmony be damned, the warrior would turn reality on its head before she found herself barred from being there for Nyx.

…And it felt good, to admit this sort of thing.

It was fuel for fighting, and Elmiryn willed her body to keep moving, because she knew time was of the essence—could feel it as assuredly as one felt a blade against their skin.  She clutched at her limp arm, sweat dripping into her eyes as she tried to find her way through the dark.  She didn’t know where she was going.  She just knew she had to get away from the village before they realized what she’d done.

“Did your master teach you that?” Artemis asked, stepping out from behind a tree up ahead.

Elmiryn ran past her with out sparing a glance.  ”I have no master,” she panted.

Artemis appeared further on still, sitting on a rock with her head in her hands.  ”No.  I have decided you must have a master.  There is no way you could have done that trick without someone to have taught it to you.”

“I don’t have a fucking master!” Elmiryn snapped, charging on still.

Without a sound, the goddess appeared running alongside her.  With great ease, she said, “I heard whispers of Nadi the River Guardian suffering from just such a trick as that.  Making people believe what isn’t there?  Thou art a clever one!  And was it truly thine efforts that freed the city of Gamath, or was it all a ruse?”

Elmiryn bared her teeth but didn’t answer.  Artemis knew the truth, she was just toying with the woman.  But the redhead didn’t have time for games.  She had to find Nyx.

At some point, the goddess vanished, and the warrior lost herself in the ways of the forest.  The trees murmured over her, their interweaving branches like bastions against the looming void overhead.  The world was stuck in a silent nightmare, fear permeating everything from the soil, to the bark, to the rocks, to the leaves, leaving the air to be repressed by anxiety.  Elmiryn steeled herself as best she could.

Then she heard it.  She heard the beast off in the distance.  The woman tried to stop, but her body was clumsy with fatigue, and she tumbled to the forest floor.  The roar was unmistakable—in all the time they had stayed with the Lycans, Elmiryn had never heard such a fierce roar.  It echoed from far off, and with a curse, the warrior realized she was on the wrong side of the forest.  With difficulty, the woman raised herself up again and resumed her run, this time in the direction of the beast’s cries.

The woman was beyond frustrated by the limitations of her body.  She felt almost confined by it, and why not?  After experiencing the speed of realization in her strange subconscious haven, who could stand the laborious reality of the real world?  But her perseverance was rewarded as the sounds of battle grew closer.  She heard Nyx scream out—she was using her voice to fight the beast by the sounds of it.  The woman felt a rush, her hairs standing on end at the amount of power the young girl held in her Words.

But then there was that fierce roar that ended it all.  Elmiryn screamed, falling onto her knees, her hand going to her ear.  Shivering, she thought she felt something dripping down her ear lobe, and when she checked her hand, she found it was blood.  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something large and white, and she snapped her head to see.

Sitting on a small rise of earth, a white wolf with dark eyes peered at her impassively.  Blinking in the darkness over the animal’s shoulder was a golden reptilian gaze.  Elmiryn stared between them, then cocked her ear as something occurred to her.

The sounds of battle had stopped.

Rising to her feet, the woman tried to clear her ears of the blood and the ringing.  When this proved hopeless, she cradled her dead arm and cut through the thick brush.  The woman skirted the wild reaches of a fallen tree, which opened a view of such destruction that Elmiryn was stopped in her tracks.  It were as though the gods had reached down with great hands and churned the soil, overturning the life and order that had once existed there.  Bodies were strewn about, mangled and dismembered, and off to the side she saw Sedwick, hurt but still alive by the looks of it.  Quincy and Hakeem were also there, the brunette moving to a spot out in the messy clearing.

“She’s gone…” she said.

Elmiryn tensed as she stepped forward, breathing heavily.  ”Who’s gone?”

The wizard closed her eyes, and after a moment, turned and looked at the woman.  Was that an apology in her eyes?  Somehow, it incensed the warrior further, and the redhead snapped, “Quincy, who’s gone?”

The other woman sighed.  ”Nyx,” she said after a moment, looking away.  ”Nyx is gone.”

The Lycans seemed to come out of their stunned silence and moved to one another’s aid.  One woman with a bow dashed back out into the woods, shouting, “Gudahi!  Gudahi!”

Elmiryn kept her eyes on Quincy as she approached.  ”What happened?”

“We fought, we lost,” Quincy said, defensiveness beginning to creep into her voice.

The warrior snarled, cutting in front of the woman.  ”What.  Happened?”

Azure met cerulean.  Quincy did not look away.  ”Nyx tried to save us.  She tried using her power of voice to subdue the beast but…but the beast fought back, almost as if it had the same power.  She was beaten.  She…”  The wizard trailed off, her eyes fluttering.

Elmiryn heard Hakeem’s voice off to the side.  ”She sank into the shadows.  With the beast.”

The redhead turned to look at the young-looking wizard, his dark face bunched in a deep scowl.  ”She sacrificed herself to save us all.”

“Sacrificed?” the woman repeated, squinting her eyes.  Then her gaze widened and she turned to look back the way she’d come.

Stomping that way, she shouted, “Lacertli!  You slimy fucking bastard, this is your fault, isn’t it!?”

A hand grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back roughly.  The warrior found herself meeting Quincy’s infuriated gaze.  ”Watch your tongue!  If Lacertli is a god, then we wouldn’t want to repeat the experience you had with Artemis, now would we!?”

Elmiryn’s jaw tensed, her eyes illuminated with her rage.  ”God of sacrifice?  God of dreamwalking?  He’s just a creep skulking in the shadows–!” the woman broke off with a sharp intake of breath.  Eyes fluttering, she looked at Hakeem wildly.  ”Wizard, did you say Nyx sank into the shadows?”

Hakeem nodded.  ”Yes she–” his eyes brightened.  ”…She did.” He laughed.  ”She sank into the shadows!”

Quincy looked between them, her face screwed up.  ”Is there something I’m missing?  The girl was simultaneously impaled and half-crushed.  You two honestly think she would have survived that?”

The trap has sprung, Elmiryn.  Now to free thy kitten, thou must find the one who set it in the first place.

Elmiryn nodded slowly.  ”That’s what I have to do.  Artemis knew I wouldn’t get here in time to stop this.  What I can do is get her back.” Then she paused and thought with a frown.  ”I wonder if that constitutes as accepting help from her?”

Quincy gave her a weird look.  ”What’re you babbling about?”

The warrior waved her question away.  ”Listen.  We have to find the one who set the beast loose to begin with!”

The brunette placed her hands on her hips as her husband rubbed his chin in thought.  ”Who’s to say that the beast was ‘set loose’?  What if it just came into being on its own?”

Elmiryn looked at her as if she were stupid.  ”Everything comes from something.”  Then she added with a jerk of her chin.  ”By the way, what the fuck happened to your hand?”

The wizard crossed her arms, hiding her bandaged left hand in the folds of her arms–but the warrior saw the blood stains.  ”It’s nothing,” the wizard bit out.

The woman shrugged and said, “Fine.  Anyway, I think I have an idea of where to start looking.”

“And where’s that?” Hakeem asked, though his eyes held knowing.

Elmiryn sucked at her teeth, then nodded her head at the woods.  ”I hope you guys are up for another hunt.  We have a Twin to find!”

Back to Chapter 30.2 | Forward to Chapter 31.1

Back arched.  She clawed, legs kicking as her suffering dragged out a deep primal scream.

Shouts, far away.

Far.

Away.

Hands.  On her.

Fire was in her veins, hot and purifying, but she didn’t want to be purified.  She wanted poison.  She wanted corrosion in all its destructive beauty.  She sought to move her arms, trying to find that sundering, but instead she knew a greater prison in her body–her left arm was like a reluctant child.  It moved with great difficulty, a ghost of pain filtering up the nerves to scramble her thoughts.  In all the confusion, Elmiryn forgot the where and the how of it, but she knew one thing–things were not right, and she blamed the Hands.  Those wretched, foul Hands that gripped her.

“Get off me!” she screamed.

Her tormentors spoke in tongues, their faces gradually coming through the warm haze like ghoulish masks.  Her vision was one-sided, her right eye swollen to the point that she could hardly see in her daze.  In a sudden surge of strength, the woman ripped her right arm free and struck in a wide swing.  She felt her swing strike true and someone cried out.  She battled through the waves of dizziness and nausea that wracked her and sat up, placing her bare feet on the ground.  Her breath was ragged over her parched tongue, and the air chilled the sweat on her skin.  Wildly she swiped at her other captor.  She missed, but they look go of her, leaving her free to move.  The pain was like a vice on her mind, squeezing.  Tight.  She was going to explode from the pressure, and her body knew it, from the way it trembled, right down to the hands.  Hands.  Her hands.

Elmiryn’s eye blinked rapidly as she tried to clear her vision of the fog.  She recognized that she was in a hut of some sort, and there were rows of small cots all occupied.  A great push of her will clarified her reality.  She was in the medicine hut.  But this bit of knowledge did nothing to quell her anxiety, and the woman growled as she stood swaying to her feet.  Her legs bumped into her cot, and infuriated, she flipped it over with one hand, hearing the crash and clatter of things falling to the floor.

All eyes were on her–strange, unfriendly eyes that wept accusations, and she hated them hated them hated them–

“Stop it!”

The woman’s eyes snapped onto the speaker, and she saw that it was a tall man with long white hair and gray eyes.  One of the healers.  Had she seen him before?

He held up his hands in a placating manner, his voice gentle.  “Please, calm down!  We only want to help you!”

She snarled at him, her spine curling, her right hand clawing at her shirt.  When had she been given a shirt?

“What did you do to me?” she hissed.

“It–the pain you feel may be the venom, but–”

The man’s voice became a distant, squeaky thing, overshadowed by the new focus that caught her attention.  Elmiryn lurched around the other cots, and the man trailed off.  She brushed past him roughly, her mouth salivating, her hands already reaching desperately for the table of bottled liquids on the other side of the hut.  Snatching up a wide, jug, the woman opened it and raised it to her lips.

“Thirsty…” she croaked.

Hands grabbed her from behind.  “No, don’t!  That’ll kill you!”

Elmiryn yelled, shoving backward with her body, but she tripped, and without both arms to steady herself, she fell, the bottle slipping from her grip.  Her nose flared as she disentangled from the healer, and from some innate sense she didn’t know she had, she knew the liquid was not what she sought.  Baring her teeth, the warrior half-rose, half-stumbled, her clumsy attempt at standing sending her careening out through hut entrance to the village trail outside.  She crashed into a pair of women carrying jugs–sense and feeling a debilitating jumble for a moment before she mustered enough strength to claw at the confused Lycans belongings.  The women fended her off, yelling, and the warrior gnashed her teeth as they fled.

Slamming her fist onto the ground, she screamed, “I’m fucking dying of thirst you mangy savages!”

Blackness billowed from her thoughts, making murder seem charitable.  Her fingers, bleeding from the way she scraped them into the dirt and rocks, pulsed with a need to find satisfaction.  Yet she knew this need would be the end of her.  It would turn her inside out and violate her.  She had to fulfill it–had to–because her body could hardly move without the shivering desire coming flush through the skin and bones.  She was effectively a puppet of this addiction, but Elmiryn would dance gladly to its tune, if only–

“A drink…” she panted, hands held out to the crowd that gathered around her.  “Just a drop, just a drink, anything, please–”

She started to weep…

…And then she caught it.  That special something, that delicious aroma, that thing she so needed.  Her nose worked, and she tilted her head back like an animal, her right hand out before her like she were blind.  Finally, her search lead her to the wineskin of an older man.  Roaring, she leapt for it, tearing it off his belt and knocking him to the ground.  The Lycans around her let out infuriated shouts, moving to capture her, but Elmiryn dodged them long enough to uncork the mouthpiece and get a good three gulpfuls before she was tackled to the ground…

……….

……..

……

…

.

…

……

……..

……….

…Sometime later, she found herself laying face down on the dirt floor, the taste of wine and vomit on her tongue.  Her hands were tied behind her back, and she found that she was in a hut once again–not the medicine hut, but a smaller one of simple comforts.  Groaning, the woman rolled to her side and felt her whistle pop over her arm and lightly against the side of her breast.  She craned her head up, struggling to see it with her one good eye.

“Hey,” she grunted.  Then louder, she called, “Hey!  Where am I!?”

The hut flap opened, and two men stepped in.  One was Halian, though he looked paler than she’d last seen him.  The other was the white-haired healer from before.  Neither looked pleased to see her.

“You’re awake.  Do you remember, then?”

She squinted at him.  ”Remember what?”

“You struck my father,” the healer growled.  “And you attacked other innocent people of our village!”

“I was thirsty,” she mumbled, looking away.

“We should skin this stupid tkelechog,” Halian bit out, his teeth bared.  “We cared for her, and she turned on us!”

“I didn’t mean to, all right?” Elmiryn snapped back.  She swung upright with her legs and glared at the two men.  “It’s hard to explain to you, but I wasn’t myself!”

The Lycan warrior sneered.  “So it was your evil twin, then?”

Elmiryn’s glare softened.  “Twin…?”  Her eyes snapped wide.  “Fuck!  Nyx!  She’s in trouble!”

The healer’s frown deepened. “What do you mean?”

The woman struggled to sit up on her knees.  “While I was out, I…had a vision.”  That was simpler than what actually happened, anyway.

The healer crossed his arms, his expression skeptical.  ”A vision?  You?”

The woman fumbled to come up with a good explanation, her mind still foggy.  ”Nyx, she…I think she might be fighting the beast!”

Halian snorted.  “She lies!  The hunt hasn’t started yet, and that Ailuran was too much of a coward to go alone.”

“She is not a coward,” The woman hissed through grit teeth.  She looked back at the healer.  “I swear on Artemis’s head.  Nyx is out there and she needs help!”

Silence followed.

The healer sucked on his teeth.  Then he turned and laid a hand on his companion’s arm.  “Get Sanuye and gather a team.  Find Nyx.  Check the village first, and if she isn’t here then you have my permission to head into the forest.”

Halian’s pale face started to color as he clenched his fists, “But–”

“Now.”

The Lycan warrior glared for a moment longer before dropping his gaze to the ground and storming out of the hut.

…Clearly the healing arts was more valued than the way of the warrior in Lycan culture.

“Checking the village will take too long!  I’m telling you, she’s out there,” the woman argued.  “I can find her.  Just untie me.”

The healer’s response was quick.  ”No.”

Elmiryn stared.  “…What?”

“I said, no.”

The woman took a moment to breathe through her nose before asking tightly, “Why not?”

The man looked at her with stern eyes.  ”Because you still have to answer for what you did.  Even if you were pardoned, I doubt my father would allow you to go.  So you’re staying.”

“Now you listen to–” As Elmiryn spoke, she made to stand, but as soon as she tried to rise out of a kneeling position, she found her bonds pull on something.  Blinking, she looked over her shoulder to find that she was tied to a thick stake in the ground with a large curved stone cap on the top of it.  Looking it over, the woman knew that simply pulling it out would be quite a feat, if at all possible.  Slowly, she looked back at the healer.

“I have…to save…my friend,” she said slowly.

The healer looked away.  “We’ll find Nyx.  Have faith.”  And without looking back, the man left.

Elmiryn lunged after him, feeling her binds cut into her skin.  “Hey!  HEY!”

“Thou swears on my head, hmm?”

The warrior jumped and turned her head to see Artemis leaning on the stake, an amused smirk on her lips.

“I only said that to get them to listen to me,” the warrior snapped.  Then Elmiryn let out a rough sigh.  “You knew this would happen…didn’t you?”

The goddess feigned surprise.  “Knew?  Why, that would imply that I have some sort of command over these events.  Certainly, thou doesn’t believe that?”

The warrior glared.  “No.  I don’t.  Anyone with half a brain can make a deduction from a collection of information.  Namely, you knew more than I did about the situation and let me walk right into a burning building.”

Artemis shook her head.  “When good fortune comes, thou wish to claim it as thine own, but when misfortune comes, suddenly it is the fault of the gods.”  The goddess tsked.  “Long the yellow rain when a man drinks deep.”

Elmiryn gave the goddess a weird look.  “That’s a pub saying.”

“I thought I’d try speaking at your level.”

“You couldn’t get at my level if you tried.”

“Is that a dare?”

“Oh heavens no, because we all know what happened the last time I dared.”

Artemis considered the stake with puckered lips.  “I could help thee.”

Elmiryn closed her eyes with another sigh.  “Still not interested.”

“May I ask what your plan is, then?”

“You mean you can’t read my mind?”

The goddess considered her for a moment.  “That’d be boring,” She said finally.

The warrior shook her head and tried to think, and though she knew it didn’t help, she found herself at the conclusion that waking from the dream was the nightmare…

NYX____________________________

I feel that, at this point, it is safe to say that I am something of an expert on scary.  Being chased by giggling demons?  Scary.  Facing down a giant necromantic abomination? Scary.  Being chased by an angry lust spirit?  Scary.

But this?  This was terrifying.

The sky knew a sort of blackness–imitating the dark of night in an empty sort of attempt at the reality–but this beast was the very essence of black, its thick coat contrasting so sharply to our surroundings that at first I thought I was looking at a shadow.  Its massive head was easily larger than any of us combined, and its long lupine snout quivered at our scent.  Its limbs were taller than all the trees, its hulking shoulders the size of four carriages lined up in a row.  Its paws were humanoid in nature–with opposable thumbs and long digits, but the pads of its paws were thick, I saw, and its talons set in deep in the digits, nearly constituting for the tips entirely.

As far as size went, the beast was topped only by Tonatiuh in the sun spirit’s greatest state.  But from where we stood, the treeline managed to conceal the rest of the beast, and somehow I knew it must be much larger.  In a wet crunch, the beast swallowed the pugot, its thick tunnel of a neck moving, muscles like beasts themselves.  It seemed to have one eye socket, but this was lidless and lacking any sort of eyeball, instead playing host to hundreds of thousands of maggots, which weeped from the orifice in a thick slime like corruptive tears.  Large, bat-like ears could be seen sprouting randomly from atop its head like a grotesque mane, the protrusions twisting and turning to catch the sounds of the forest.  These quivered and faced us, a faint hissing sound simmering the air, and the monster’s lips pulled back as it raised its head.

Hakeem was frozen where he stood, too shocked to react to the thing before him.  Sedwick’s breath had quickened, gaining a small whine I’d never heard from him before.  Behind us, I could hear Gudahi and Makka crashing through the brush–all attempts at subtlety gone as they came to our aid.  With my hands like claws about my mouth, I was trapped between the desire to run and the knowledge that there was no getting away from this thing.

A growl began to rumble in the beast’s throat, and I could feel it in my bones, spreading cracks through my resolve.

I can’t do this, I can’t do this–

I took a trembling step back, then another.

The beast dug its claws into the earth, gouging out deep marks, and with a deep breath, it roared.  The sound was painful, stunning me so that I fell over, clutching my ears.  They rang, pain pulsing in my eardrums.  I tried to tell my legs to move, but they just kicked futilely at the ground, too shocked to be of any use.  It was at this point that Gudahi appeared over me, his spear pulled back with one hand, Hakeem’s spear in the other, his teeth bared in a warrior’s snarl.

“Bia tsimbic da-sasua!” he screamed, sounding far away, just as he threw his spear.

It connected, the tip burying into the creature’s maggoty eye.

The beast reared back with a thunderous cry of pain, and as it stood on its hind-quarters, I got to see just how tall it was.

I felt hands on me, and looked up to see Makka dragging me to my feet, his usually stoic-face tight with emotions I couldn’t readily name.  Half-way on my feet, and I was already scrambling to run with him, the idea of putting distance between us and that thing a single great drive.  But as we moved to retreat from the beast’s no doubt devastating return to the earth, I looked over my shoulder.  Sedwick was fast following us, and Gudahi was striding to snatch up Hakeem.  The Lycan reached the wizard, and without a word, grabbed him by the waist, lifted him up, and swung around to follow…but the beast was already coming down, fast.  Sedwick was turning into water, and so would no doubt be able to escape being crushed by the monster or a felled tree through his shifting form, and Makka and I were well out of harm’s way.  But Gudahi and Hakeem…there was no way they’d get away in time…

With a yell, I pulled out of Makka’s hands, and sprinted back the way we’d come.  Sedwick stopped and yelled after me, “What are you doing!?”

Everything slowed down, my heart loud in my ears and my lungs burning.  I dove forward, hands outstretched.  Gudahi held a hand out to me, one arm wrapped around Hakeem’s small body.  Our fingertips met.  The earth shook and cracked, the thick ancient trees groaning as they started to come down around us, hundreds of pounds of weight, of life, all ending in a sudden blast.

We watched it all happen from the Umbralands.

Gudahi’s hand was sweaty as he gripped mine tightly.  His eyes were wide as he stared around at the dark dimension, then he stumbled as he moved to take a step back.  ”Pet?” he squeaked.  ”Where are we?”

Hakeem slipped from his grasp, and the glaze was gone from his eyes, though his dark skin had turned pale.  ”The shadow realm?”

“The Umbralands,” I panted, but my attention was already elsewhere.  In the shifting environment, it was possible that we could still come to harm.  ”Hakeem, grab onto Gudahi.  We still aren’t safe here!”

Instead of the protests, Gudahi and Hakeem quickly held hands.  I felt a twinge, wondering if I were really fit to be among such brave people.  Then I shook the thought away.  This wasn’t the time for self-pity.

Closing my eyes, I willed the shadows to take us, and there was a cold rush as we appeared back in the Real World just as the beast raised its paw to strike.

“Move!” Hakeem yelled.

We vaulted over the felled trees, the shadow of the beast’s paw growing starker over us.  With a whine, I knew I’d have to stop and do something about it, or the beast would have us crushed.  Skidding to a halt, I focused on the shadow over us and held out my hands.  It fought me, the shadow wiggling against my will, but with a concentrated shout, I threw it aside.  The ground rattled, and I tumbled backward onto my backside.  Opening my eyes, I felt my blood drain to realize how close I’d come to being flattened like a pancake. The beast’s paw landed just past my outstretched foot.

I wasn’t in the clear yet.  The beast’s hot breath rushed over me, its thick, slimy saliva dripping into my hair from large rancid teeth.  Trembling I twisted around to stare up at it, mouth agape, the feeling of shocked numbness returning to me.

Then the wind kicked up, and I was flying.

MERID__________________________

In the medicine hut.

Merid checked the cut on his father’s cheek one last time, making sure his medicinal paste had been properly applied.

“How are you feeling?” he asked in his native tongue.

“Boy, I sed m’fine,” Eidan snapped.  ”I’m ol’, not fragile.”

Merid pursed his lips.  ”Father, I know you’re a tough one, but living for three centuries tends to take its toll, all right?”

“An’ what do you know about livin’ for three centuries?”

The younger man held up his hands, his eyes rolling.  ”Fine.  I’ve already checked up on your patients, but go ahead and make your rounds if you want to so badly.”

Eidan was about to reply when a young girl came bursting through the hut entrance, her face flushed and her eyes wide with panic.  ”Fire!” she gasped out.

Merid straightened, his eyes widening.  Fire was a danger they took very seriously after the Great Fire hundreds of years ago.  The last thing they’re people needed was to be burned out of their homes for the beast to find.

“Show me!” The man said.  With one last glance back at his father, he followed the young girl outside, running after her along the village trail.

Then he saw it.  The flames, the heat, the smoke.  It was his hut.

The one where he’d placed Elmiryn.

Lycans were sprinting in from the great tree with jugs and bowls of water–but it wouldn’t be enough.  Merid buried his hands in his white hair, then remembered himself and looked around.

Grabbing the girl, he barked, “Did anyone pull out the human woman!?”

The girl frowned.  ”Who–?”

Growling, the man let the girl go and turned on the spot, his eyes searching wildly.  He spotted a thick blanket hung out on a line across from the burning hut.  He grabbed it, draped it across his shoulders, and with a deep breath, rushed in through the entrance.

Elmiryn was laying face down in the dirt, her eyes closed and her body limp.  Coughing from the smoke, the man squinted in the face of the heat as he knelt beside her.  Taking out the small knife in his boot, Merid cut the warrior’s bonds, and gathered her into his arms.  Not stopping to lament his lost effects, the Lycan rushed back out of the fire, his lungs burning from the smoke, his eyes tearing up badly.

His fellow villagers rushed to his aid, pulling the cloak off his shoulders and taking Elmiryn from him.  He was given water and drank just a sip before setting into his coughing fit again.  Holding up a hand, the others left him alone.  The man sat at the edge of the trail and buried his face into his hands, trying to calm the nerves that sought to undo him.  He was not a warrior, and though he had a steady nerves for medicine, actual danger was a different matter.

Then he heard his brothers and sisters shout and holler.  His head shot up, and Merid turned to see what the commotion was about.

…His hut wasn’t burning anymore.  In fact, it looked as though it hadn’t been on fire at all.

Dumbfounded, the Lycan leapt to his feet and looked to his fellows for answers.

“What happened?  How can this be?  You saw it, right?” he asked shakily.  He looked into each of the faces around him, young and old alike.  His voice started to rise.  ”You saw it, didn’t you!?  The fire, the smoke?  You felt it, right?”

“Yes! Plain as the full moon!” one answered.

“Could it be our Great Mother’s doing?” another wondered.

“It’s a sign!” another whispered.

“An ill omen!”

“Gods, what does it mean?  Is it the beast?”

The man scratched his head, his eyes sweeping over those around him.  Then his face drew blank.

“…Where’s the woman I just carried out?”  When none answered him, Merid’s face went white with rage and he yelled.  ”Where is Elmiryn?  WHERE IS SHE!?”

Back to Chapter 30.1 | Forward to Chapter 30.3

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Hakeem’s eyes were on the dark of the forest, its shadows pregnant with all the possibilities of what became of his wife.  His lips pursed and it was only a thin thread of common sense that kept him from barreling into the woods alone.  When Nyx and Sedwick first fixed him with those eyes, he knew that something had happened to Quincy.  It was an instinct, kicking in from years of worrying and fear.  The brunette had a tendency of getting into trouble, and Hakeem was used to having to chase her, if not bail her out.  But he was in the body of a child, and with the foreign surge of anxiety that frothed inside of him, Hakeem wondered if this time around, he would be his greatest obstacle.

A soft touch on the shoulder made the man-boy’s head snap to the side, a look of deep intensity tightening his youthful features into something akin to a snarl.  Nyx looked down at him in surprise, pulling back as though he were a wild animal about to bite off her hand.

“The others are ready!” she blurted, pointing nervously over her shoulder.

“Good,” Hakeem muttered, returning his stare to the forest.

He felt Nyx drift away from him and was glad for the space.  He wasn’t sure he could manage any level of civility, considering the matter at hand.  Another moment went by where the others murmured quietly behind him.  He felt eyes on his back, but didn’t turn to look.

A few seconds later and a spear was held out in front of him.  Hakeem looked up to see it was Gudahi offering the weapon.  Makka, his usual shadow, was there just a little behind him.  Gudahi looked him in the eyes, but the wizard gazed steadily back into the gaze, forgetting momentarily just what it meant.  Then he remembered himself and looked away.

“Thank you,” he said.

The Lycan clapped him heartily on the shoulder. “We will find her, do not worry.”

“So?” Sedwick said behind them.  “Who leads?”

The wizard was tempted to say, “Me,” but knew that one of the therians would be ideal to take point.  On that note, he gestured at Gudahi.

“You should lead,” he said.  ”You know these forests better than anyone in the village.”

The Lycan nodded and looked to the others.  None offered any arguments, and so without another word, they crossed the tree line into the enigmatic woods.  The twisted boughs of the black willows creaked overhead as they went at a light run, the ghostly eyes of a forest creature following their path from the bosom of a magnolia tree in full blossom.  The wizard’s nose flared as the fragrant scent of the flowers wafted to him through the dark.  They fell into V formation, with Nyx and Sedwick at rear, and Hakeem and Makka flanking Gudahi.

The Lycan’s footsteps were light and swift over the uneven forest floor, but Hakeem was used to following Gudahi’s lead by now, and managed to keep pace.  He didn’t hear the others behind him, which didn’t really surprise him.  Sedwick was an elemental and could easily manipulate his form to soften the sound of his footfalls.  Nyx was clearly one who lived on the outskirts of society, and as a therian, had a natural inclination toward dark and natural settings such as this.  Wild landscapes were second nature to Hakeem, and with his time spent at the village, he had become familiar with the local terrain–not as well as Gudahi, but well enough to keep from stumbling like most humans would at this pace.

The firs, oaks, and poplars parallaxed by, just dark cuts in the corner of his eyes.  The shadowy earth, the light mist that shrouded the distance, the teeth of the forest canopy–they encapsulated everything he had ever heard about the dangers of the unknown.  His mother, Nguele, or Ma’Nguele as he was taught to call her, warned of evil spirits that brought misfortune to those foolhardy souls that underestimated nature.

Ya kabur aiju maiti juena adhab.

The flower may yet find the breast.

The trail of arnica petals they followed seemed strangely lit, not in brightness, but in color, their teardrop shapes standing out in the indefinite forest floor.  Owl hoots and distant wolf calls blanketed their surroundings in a loneliness that only served to prick at Hakeem’s tension.  He felt his young body shiver, its bodily control not at the maturity he was used to.  It left him open to thoughts of Quincy lost, hurt…dead.

The trail was excruciatingly long, giving ample room to build upon his fears.

At one point, they passed a clearing the great beast had cleared in one of its vicious attacks, and Hakeem felt his gut churn as his eyes searched the dark for Quincy.  But the trail continued on, and so they went until they came onto a small wetland.  The muddy ground sucked at their boots, flies buzzing in their ears as they came together in a line.  Mangroves, with their gapped, web-like roots, seemed to yawn silently at their plight, their thin trunks swaying.  The trail had ended, and the party exchanged looks.

“This cannot be the beast,” Gudahi said, crouched at the trail’s end.

The reeds rustled as a breeze swept through, chilling Hakeem’s sweat.  He swallowed and wiped at his brow.  He could see Nyx look at him from the corner of his eye and turned his head away.

The long-haired Lycan called Makka over, and they both leaned down toward the ground, sniffing.  They conversed quietly for a moment before Gudahi straightened with narrowed eyes.

“The smell of taint isn’t here,” he said.

“This didn’t seem the beast’s style,” Sedwick agreed.  He crossed his arms and looked around them, his brows bunching.  “My guess is a rogue spirit.”

Gudahi squinted an eye as he tugged on one ear.  ”That’s also a problem.”

The elemental frowned at him.  ”Why?”

The Lycan shrugged.  ”There is no taint.  There is also nothing…”  His eyes flickered to Hakeem’s face.  ”Nothing but your wife.”

Nyx crouched down and inspected the trail.  Hakeem could see her nostrils flare as she leaned down for a whiff.  When she straightened, she was also frowning.  ”He’s right…but then why would Quincy just leave?”

Gudahi shrugged as he stood to his feet.  ”Even a spirit will leave a scent.  Since I sense nothing, then perhaps Quincy came out of here of her own free will?  Maybe to look for more herbs and other reagents?”

Nyx wrinkled her nose at the thought.  ”And she left a blatant trail of petals as she went?”

“It doesn’t matter the reason!” Hakeem snapped, throwing his spear down.

Everyone stopped to stare at him.  He glared back at them all.  ”All I care about are the facts that will help me find my wife.”  He gestured at the trail.  ”You say her scent is the only thing you can sense?  Then we know she has come this way, but that trail ends at this wetland.  We have to pick up a new trail again and keep moving!”

Nyx nodded, her gaze the first to fall away.  ”All right, Hakeem.”

She turned, and with eyes turned downward, proceeded to search for clues.  Awkwardly, the other three men followed suit.  Hakeem sighed and took a moment to rub at his face before returning to the task at hand.

The wetland wasn’t very large, perhaps half the size of a typical lake, and the trees, though sparser, still found reach enough that the forest canopy still branched overhead.  A frog croaked somewhere off to his left as a mosquito tried to land on his forearm. He swatted at it as his eyes squinted in the dark.  He tried to make out footprints, smashed plants, or a torn piece of clothing, any sort of sign that someone had been through the area before they had.

He saw nothing.

With time providing no fruit for his labor, the wizard was about to ask the others if they had seen anything when a twig snapped behind them.

Everyone froze.  Nyx’s tawny eyes could be seen peering widely from a set of tall ferns.  Sedwick was crouched near a low rock, his form having turned watery.  Makka and Gudahi had ventured out into the wetlands proper, feet sunk deep in the mud and their flanks brushing through tall grass.  The two men looked at each other, then readied their weapons.

Together, they let out low hoots–an identifying call between their people.  The call was not returned.

Instead, they heard a voice.

“Fuck this chingali forest!”

Hakeem gave a start, his heart doing a somersault. “Mweze?”  He straightened and ventured toward the source.  ”Mweze, is that you?”

Quincy emerged from a cluster of tulip trees, twigs and leaves in her hair and an irate look on her face.

“Damn those brats!” she bit out.

Hakeem hesitated, his eyes flickering to the therians.  Sedwick let out a chuckle.  Nyx looked relieved.  Makka’s look of indifference remained unchanging.  Gudahi smiled.

“You see my prince?  She is well and whole,” the Lycan said.  Then his smile turned wry.  “Well…she’s whole at least.”

“Which is more than I can say for those boys when I find them,” Quincy snarled.  She managed to free her clothes from the snatching branches, but her feet tangled and she fell backward, where she landed into the mud with a loud splat.  For a moment, time seemed to hang, uncertain of whether to go forward or to go back.  The brunette blinked, hands raised, her face frozen in horror as she looked down at herself.  As the reality set in, her face contorted as if she wanted to scream, but instead she clamped her jaw tight and let out a high pitched growl.  Hakeem hurried forward to help her out of the mud as the others broke out laughing.

“Are you all right?” He asked as she stood up.  He couldn’t help it–he was grinning, too.

The woman grimaced as she shook the mud from her hands.  “Some children took the flowers we needed, and I came chasing them.  I lost them halfway along and followed the trail of petals, but as you can see, that trail ends.  I was just poking around to see if I could pick up a new trail somewhere nearby.”  She threw up her hands.  “None of this makes any sense!”

Hakeem shook his head at her.  “You should have asked for help!  Running out into the forests is dangerous by yourself!”

“I didn’t think I’d gone far,” Quincy muttered with a shrug.  She looked around at them all.  “Wait…you all came looking for me?”  Her eyes fell on Nyx in particular.

Gudahi threw his hair back and made a show of sticking his nose up into the air. “And help my rival in love?  Nonsense!”

Hakeem knuckled his eyes.  “Gudahi…You’ve been picking up on Fiamman behavior, I see…”

The man grinned, examining his nails at length.  “Who’s to say they didn’t steal it from me?”

“My guess is the children returned to the village.  Can we go back now?” Quincy groused.

Hakeem had to keep from laughing in joy and relief.  “Yes, Mweze.  We can go back now.”

They turned and started to walk, the wizard reaching for his wife’s hand, and she seeking his, when a voice stopped them just before their skin touched.

“No, we can’t go back.”

Everyone turned to gaze at Sedwick.  He was glaring at Quincy.  Hakeem frowned at him over his shoulder, his hand falling back to his side.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

The elemental pointed at the brunette’s face, his face turning dark with anger.  “That thing isn’t Quincy.”

Nyx squinted her eyes.  “But her scent–”

Sedwick gestured at the ground and spoke quickly, “Tell me.  Where are the footprints Quincy just made?”

Hakeem clenched his fists.  “But we just saw her fall into the–”

“It’s gone,” Gudahi breathed, pointing at the spot Quincy had fallen.  “Her footprints, the mark where she fell…all gone!”

Makka already had his spear pointed at Quincy.  He said something gruffly in Lycan, and Hakeem’s wife stared at him blankly as she turned and took a step back.

Nyx let out a hiss, her eyes wide.  She gestured at Hakeem frantically.  ”Sedwick’s right!  Hakeem, get away from it!”

Hakeem’s eyes strained to see what the others claimed to, but he wasn’t close enough to make anything out in the dark.  As he felt something slimy and cold warp about his throat, however, he found he didn’t need to.

With a yell, the man-boy struck at his assailant only to find his small reach wasn’t long enough.  He was lifted, choking, and came to see what Sedwick had been trying to warn him about.  Quincy’s form was gone, leaving only a black oily creature with bulky shoulders, a disproportionately slim waist, and no head.  Despite its lacking mouth, the being let out a gurgling chuckle.

“Mmm…more meat!” it exclaimed.

Makka let out a yell and stabbed forward with his spear.  The creature let out a grunt as it made to dodge the attack, and without warning, he began to fall.  Hakeem and the monster hit the ground, the wizard on his side, the creature on its back.  When Hakeem sat up, he thought he saw a strange play of light across the ground–then he realized it was Nyx’s doing.  She’d tripped up the monster’s using its shadow.

“He’s slipping from me!” the Ailuran cried, her hands up and her face strained. “Get it! Quick!”

Makka didn’t hesitate.  He stepped forward and thrust into the monster’s chest, digging the spear tip in with a fierce look in his eyes.  Gudahi joined him, driving his spear into the monster’s gut.  The creature screeched, hands gripping the spear shafts as it writhed, but in time, it turned still.  Hakeem clumsily rose to his feet, his body covered in mud, some of it even in his ears and mouth.  The wet ground threatened to take his shoes from his feet and send him over, and he had to struggle to move away from the creature.

Both Lycans removed their spears with wet squelches, panting.

Spitting the mud out, Hakeem grimaced and asked,”Did you kill it?”

Gudahi turned his head to speak when a black ichor splashed into his face.  Screaming the man reared back, hands clawing at himself.  The creature sat up and threw its sludge at Makka, and the warrior tried to block his eyes, only to have the slime enter his open mouth instead.  He gagged, stumbling to his knees, his partner still clawing at his face.

Sedwick let out a yell, his body spinning as his arms turned to watery whips that lashed toward the strange being.  The creature let out a wet scream, its body turning into a ball that rolled away at high speed through the thick brush.

“After it!”  Hakeem yelled, already running.

The creature’s form barreled through a collection of briar bushes, and the wizard let out a shout as the thorny branches tore at his skin and clothes.  Gritting his teeth, he pushed through just in time to see his quarry quickly roll around a large sweetgum tree.  Now that they had moved away from the wetlands, his feet pounded over solid earth.  Hakeem sharply rounded the tree, filled with a sickening need to exact revenge against the monster who brought harm to his wife, only to find himself clotheslined by a black slimy arm.

He fell back onto the ground with a nasty thump.  Dazed, he watched as the creature reached for him, giggling blackly.  “Eee, hee, hee!  A meal!  A meal!  QUITE a meal!”

But the monster froze just as its claw-like hands neared Hakeem’s face.  The creature strained, sounds of frustration gurgling from its stump of a neck.  It couldn’t move.

Nyx stepped around the tree, her hand help up and a wide look in her eyes.

“You won’t have him!” she hissed.  ”I have your shadow, you filthy creature, and if you so much as touch him I will end you!”

Sedwick appeared just behind her.  He touched the girl’s shoulder.  ”You have it?” The Ailuran nodded mutely, and his lips pursed.  The elemental took a moment to look over his shoulder before returning his eyes to the black creature.  ”Gudahi and Makka are still back there.  They’re hurt, but they’ll catch up.  The slime isn’t fatal or even permanent.”

The man stepped closer and extended a hand to Hakeem, who gladly took it.  ”This thing is called a pugot,” Sedwick said with a sneer at the creature. “It’s a type of spirit from Talmor that can assume the identity of whomever it tastes, imitating that thing’s voice, movement, and even its smell.  That’s why it was able to fool you and the others, Nyx.”

“What’s it doing here, though?” Nyx asked, her voice sounding tight.

The elemental glanced at her.  ”Here, if you’re getting tired, I’ve got it.”

Sedwick raised both arms, and Hakeem watched with interest as the limbs turned clear and watery.  They grew, defying physics as water gushed from the man’s form like he were a tireless font.  The streams of liquid drifted to the pugot, where they wrapped around the creature totally.  Lifting his arms, Sedwick lifted the being bodily into the air.

He looked at Nyx.  ”You can let it go, now.”

The girl nodded and with a rushing exhale, let her arms fall to her sides.

Sedwick looked back at the spirit, his eyes squinting as he watched the pugot struggle. “Sometimes foreign spirits come to visit, but I imagine what happened in the North with Syria attracted even more.  With the beast wrecking havoc, this one was drawn here in particular.”

“I want to ask it where Quincy is,” Hakeem said firmly.

The man nodded at him, and he moved the water away from the spirit’s neck so that it could speak.

The first things out of its disgusting neck was, “Fiends!  Monsters!  Brigands!”

“Shut up,” Sedwick barked.

Hakeem watched as the elementals watery bind constricted, causing the pugot to gasp.

“Where is my wife?” Hakeem asked, his brow knitted.

The pugot didn’t answer–couldn’t.  Its tense body only trembled, hands clawing in the water.  The wizard laid a hand on Sedwick’s arm, and the elemental eased his bind reluctantly.  The pugot let out a sigh of relief.

“Wiiife…” it hissed.  ”Mmm…tasty wife, yes.  Tasty fingers.”

Hakeem tensed.  ”Where is she?”

The pugot grumbled something unintelligible.  Sedwick growled and tightened his bind again.  The spirit began to squeal.

“Ah!  Ah!  Okay!”  It gurgled. “She got away!”

Hakeem blinked.  He looked at the others, and they returned his quizzical looks.  Returning his gaze, the wizard crossed his arms.  ”What do you mean, ‘she got away?’”

The pugot let out an infuriated shout.  ”Urgh!  Human!  DUMB human!  The wife is gone!  Pugot tried to eat her, and she hurt pugot!”

Hakeem let out a relieved laugh, his hands going to his hips.  ”She must have used one of her wizardry tricks!”  Then his smile waned.  ”But then where is she?”

“Maybe she’s gone back to camp already?” Nyx said uncertainly.

“When was the last time you saw Quincy?” Hakeem demanded, his hands clenching and unclenching.

The pugot gargled angrily.  ”Pugot tell you what it know!  Let pugot go!”

Hakeem bared his teeth.  ”Not until you tell all that you know!”

“Pugot knows it will kill you!  It will kill your dreams!  Your tomorrow!  Your–”

But they never did get to learn what else the pugot would kill, because a giant pair of jaws the size of Hakeem’s old hut burst through the forest canopy with a great crack and swallowed the spirit whole.

Sedwick let out a shout, his watery arms disintegrating before filling back into normal.  Hakeem stood rooted at the spot, too stunned to react.  Off in the distance, he could hear Gudahi and Makka shouting.  Were they running to help them?  Telling them to run?  Running themselves?  The trees fell over with heartbreaking groans, their roots snapping and snarling out of the earth.  The sky opened up to them, black and indifferent, and Hakeem saw the dark ending Ma’Nguele had warned him of so long ago…

ELMIRYN________________________

In the time since Nyx had left, Elmiryn had turned her arm into a tentacle, a sword, a banana, and a general misconception.  The game got old fast, however, and so the woman endeavored to restore her arm, and was still in the process of doing so when she felt her spine stiffen with an alien feeling.  Her eyes rolled up to the strange being in its white box high above her.

“Hey,” the warrior said, brushing by a frozen kitten.  The small animals may have stopped moving all together, but they hadn’t vanished either.

When the alien being didn’t answer her, the woman’s mouth screwed up, and in the next instant she wasn’t Here, but There, glaring into the alien’s featureless face.

“Hey!  You know something don’t you?  What was that feeling I just had?”

“That would be me.”

Later on, Elmiryn would find it very difficult to explain the level of shock and fear she felt at that moment to anyone–not only because she disliked admitting to such things, but because it was so deep and visceral and debilitating, that the only way a person could understand it would be to experience it.  Trapped in this intense emotion, the woman felt her spirit pulse closer to her body, and she nearly felt herself sucked back into reality until she fought this end savagely.  She was not ready.  She would not go.

“Oh?  Thou wouldn’t miss the tender flesh of thy kitten, so sweet and ready for you?”

As the effects of her shock ebbed, Elmiryn turned slowly.  ”Artemis, what are you doing here?” she breathed.

The goddess was dressed in a more Western-styled outfit this time, her animal hide tunic gone, replaced instead with a black leather vest, dark leggings, a heavy green cloak, and grey boots.  Her arms were sleeved in white cotton, a Lycan necklace of teeth, beads, and feathers hanging over her bosom.  Her curly dark hair had been freed to fall about her shoulders, contrasting with the pearly complexion of her face.  Her tiara of branches still adorned her head, and her bow and arrows could still be seen on her back.  Her grey eyes were as sharp as ever, yet they held nothing but mirth as they looked Elmiryn up and down.

“I came to see how you were doing,” the goddess said simply.

The warrior screwed up her face.  ”You came to visit me in my head?”

Artemis nodded, smiling fully now.  ”Yes.”

Elmiryn gestured around her, a sarcastic grin on her face.  ”And is this everything you ever imagined?”

The goddess tilted her head left to right, her lower lip pushing up as she regarded the shifting light and shadows, the frozen sea of animals, the strange alien being and her window.  ”It’s…interesting,” she said finally.

“Glad you think so.  Now please leave.”

Artemis laughed, the sound echoing through the void and making Elmiryn’s head hurt.

“Thou have survived, and are in such high spirits to boot!  How wonderful,” the goddess chuckled.  ”Do you remember the secret I told you, by any chance?”

“The what?”

“Ah, I see.”

Elmiryn made a show of spitting.  ”Arty, you’re a real poor guest, y’know?”  She tapped her temple.  ”This?”  She made a slash with her arms. “Is not where you’re supposed to be!”

Artemis shrugged.  ”Then make me leave, if it so pleases you.”

The warrior bared her teeth as her cerulean eyes cut what she hoped was a menacing look, but the goddess just folded her hands, her right hand displaying her crescent moon tattoo.

Elmiryn held out her hands.  ”You want me to try?  Fine.  I’ll try.”

“You’ll try?” Artemis laughed.

The warrior glared.  ”I just said I’ll try!”

“You remember what happened the last time you tried to defy me?”

“I heard it landed me here, which really isn’t all so bad in my opinion.”

And within the next instant, Artemis wasn’t in front of Elmiryn anymore, but a hot whisper in her ear.  The woman gasped and tried to turn to see where the goddess had gone, but she saw nothing.

Ah…you put on such a brave show.  But thou should know that I can see into thine heart of hearts.  I can see thy loneliness, see thy fears.  

“Get out!” Elmiryn shouted.  ”Leave me be, I want nothing of your world!”

Why not?  My world has the one you so adore…the one who faces a threat she is not yet prepared for.

The warrior froze.  ”Nyx?  What’s happened?  Where is she?”

The trap has sprung, Elmiryn.  Now to free thy kitten, thou must find the one who set it in the first place…but thou cannot do that in thy state of detached reality.  You have survived what others could not.  Now put that strength to good use, tackle this inconvenience, and my hunt may then continue.

Elmiryn let her shoulders drop, her eyes squeezing shut as the goddess’s words sunk in.

“So are you going to help me then?” she asked quietly.

A laugh echoed around her.

Would thou even accept my help?

Elmiryn smirked, her spirit already seeking her body.  ”No.”

And when she next opened her eyes, it was to find herself back in the medicine hut, screaming with pain.

Back to Chapter 29.4 | Forward to Chapter 30.2

Elmiryn got that fevered look in her eyes, and I knew her intention was frolicking straight into yet another thorny bush of risk and danger.

That place, her little pocket of reality, was like nothing I’d seen before.  It was…raw.  My skin tingled, the whole of my body feeling both light as a feather and heavier than a boulder.  The light here flickered, always at odds with the shadows, and I glanced at them, wondering if I could use my power to make them still.  The “ground” was an imagined thing, as was “space”, and if I ceased to think of either, then they would no longer be there.

In horrifying turns, if we ceased to think of ourselves as separate beings, we could perhaps melt into one another.

All the while, the constant rain of kittens and sparrows came, and I wondered at their meaning.  Elmiryn was becoming a fae, and the fae had almost inconceivable powers over perception and meaning.  I heard tales of people making deals with the creatures to learn what a color tasted like, or to see music flowing through the air.  They were beings that thrived in their own enigmatic definitions, and in this sparse world I recognized some hidden truth in Elmiryn’s imaginings, but failed to gleam any sort understanding from them.  Though I was visiting through the Somnium, my understanding was diminished by Elmiryn’s will, much like in Volo’s realm.  As such, I did not see her unsettling form as I had before.  She looked normal here, her fair face, sun kissed skin, and piercing stare umarred…that was until the shadows grew starker, making her form flicker.  Peeking through her self-image was the reality–the seed, the roots, the horns.

I kept this to myself.

Elmiryn looked to me, her cerulean eyes hot with intent, her tongue between her teeth as a trail of sweat came down the inside of her nose.  She was breathing as if short-winded, and her right eye was swelling.  The Real World was bleeding through.

“All right, Nyx.  Okay,” she puffed.  “So…I told you I know my own pattern, right?  I think I can heal myself.  I’ve put myself back together before.  But this…this is a really bad knot.  I have no idea what will happen if I try to undo it,” she shrugged, a shaky smirk on her lips.  ”Maybe I’ll unravel!”

I touched her shoulder, feeling my spine stiffen.  ”Elmiryn, I want you back in the real world, but if the risk is too great, maybe we shouldn’t!”  Silently, I added, Please don’t add to the debt you owe Harmony!

She looked at me sharply.  ”And let the reality of the gods heal me?”

I huffed, throwing my hand up into the air.  ”What’s so wrong with that?  That’s normal!”

“And is normal good?”

“I–no, that’s not–” but I broke off, wondering just what it was I wanted to say.  Was normal good?  I didn’t believe that, and Elmiryn knew it, but she had the temerity of battling against everything we had ever known, anything anyone had ever known…

I shook my head, my eyes squeezing shut.  ”I’m scared.  I’m scared where this might lead.”  I buried my face in my hands.  “Elle, I know it’s hard for you to sit still.”  I raised my face, my eyes imploring.  “But this need to push things will kill you!”

The woman sat back, exhaling through her nose.  Her eyes roved my face, and I could practically feel her gaze on me.  It made me self-conscious, made me wonder if I was being unsympathetic.  I didn’t know what it was like to be in her situation.  I’d read somewhere that time could be funny in dreams…just how long had Elmiryn been here, conscious and alone?

“I’ve got to, Nyx,” Elmiryn said finally.  Her voice was gentle, but I could hear the determination in her words.  The warrior thought she had no Meaning, but hearing her, one would think she had all the Meaning in the world…

I closed my eyes and turned my head, but said nothing.

ELMIRYN________________________

Elmiryn licked her lips and made to flex her arm.  She felt flares of pain go up her muscles and tendons, and she stopped with a hiss.  Her eyes widened as she saw the pain’s path–the way it crissed and crossed and dove and twined into her flesh.  She saw muscles she knew ought to be moving instead still and stubborn, the light of her will coming short to motivate.  Trailing her fingers over her skin, she bit her lip and started the process.

All around them, the kittens and sparrows stilled in the air, ending their endless descent.  She felt, rather than saw, Nyx grow distant.  Overhead the light turned searing, and an incessant buzzing entered her ears…but she was busy.

She expected to hear Meznik calling with some quip or insult, but the demon was absent, as was his way whenever she wanted him there.

“Want,” she murmured.  ”To desire something.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nyx turn her head.  ”What?” the girl asked.

“Nothing.”

Wanting to be more, wanting to have more, wanting to know more, wanting to do more…perhaps Elmiryn wasn’t as different from her father as she’d initially thought.  Perhaps that avarice was a thing passed down from blood to blood.  In awe, she wondered just what else could have trickled into the cup of her being.  She imagined her soul as a muddied thing, dark and viscous and heated by her own desires…

The woman’s thoughts were cut off as she felt her arm spasm and launch to the side, the nerves spiking in pain as it struck something–though she didn’t know what.

“Ow!” Elmiryn cried, cradling her arm.

Nyx was there in front of her in the blink of an eye, crouched and peering into her face.

“What?” the girl asked, clearly startled.  ”What happened?”

“I hit something,” the woman hissed through her teeth.  She gave a deep sigh.  ”Ah, but the pain is going away now…”  Then she frowned and stared at her arm.  ”Oh fuck, the pain is going away!”

Nyx scrunched up her nose.  ”Isn’t that good?”

“No!” Elmiryn said, shaking her head slowly. “The pain was a good thing!  It meant my arm was responding!  Now I’m not getting anything at all!”

QUINCY_________________________

Quincy held her nose, the tears clouding her eyes as she jumped to her feet with a loud curse.  She’d been sitting next to Elmiryn’s cot, checking her temperature and the cut on her brow, when all of a sudden, the warrior’s arm flew up and whacked her in the face.  She could hear Eidan chuckling at her as she blinked the tears from her eyes.  Glaring, she kicked the redhead’s cot.

“Gods damn it!  That hurt!”

“Aks-iden’,” Eidan grunted, his eyes already back on his patient.  A young woman lay with fever and he had a hand on her neck, the other holding a cup of mixture.

“That wasn’t an accident,” Quincy returned hotly, sniffling back what she suspected to be blood.  ”If it were anyone else, yes.  Sure.  It was an accident.  But with her?  It never is!”

Despite getting up later than she’d meant to, the woman had managed a lot in the short afternoon.  But the evening still came by faster than she would have liked.  She and Eidan had searched for reagents much of the day, but instead of preparing them for use, the reest of their time was spent checking up on patients.  With the hunt drawing close, the woman feared they would be caught poorly prepared.

Merid appeared at her side with a handkerchief.  ”You’re bleeding a little.”

Quincy checked her hand, then cursed again as she saw the red there.  ”I suppose I am.”  She took the handkerchief from him with a fleeting smile.  ”Thank you.”

“Not too fond of her, are you?” the man asked, his gray eyes squinted in mirth.

The wizard grit her teeth.  ”If by fond, you mean walking arm in arm, then no.  I’m afraid not.”

“What is she like?”

“Boorish, arrogant, deviant…” Quincy shrugged as she checked her nose one last time.  ”Oh, she’s a charmer.”

Merid chuckled.  ”Well, I believe we’ve covered everyone in the village.  Let’s get started grinding up the herbs.  I’ve started boiling some bandages for tonight.  Would you mind fetching the basket of arnica outside?”

Quincy gave a nod, but not before awkwardly holding out the handkerchief.  The man laughed and shook his head, and with a small shrug, she pocketed the item and left the hut.

Outside the village was buzzing with activity.  The woman paused as she watched a pack of children race by, wielding sticks like they were spears and paint smeared on their faces.  Men and women alike made preparations for the night, sharpening weapons, readying armor, putting away tools.  The wizard sighed and shook her head.

“Looking at them, one would think they were at war,” she muttered as she turned for the basket of herbs.

Quincy paused as her eyes fell on the empty ground near the hut entrance.  Frowning, she searched the area with her eyes and saw nothing.  The woman went around the hut, wondering if Merid had found some odd reason to put it out of sight in case someone messed with their supplies.  Again, nothing.  Outright scowling now, the woman emerged back onto the village trail and her eyes fastened on a yellow petal down the road.

“The arnicas have yellow blossoms,” she breathed.

With quick steps, she approached it and plucked it from the dirt.  When her eyes lifted, she saw more petals down the way.  With a glance over her shoulder and pressed lips, the woman followed the trail through the village until it brought her to the forest line.  As she ventured near the trees, she heard giggling and saw a group of boys dancing around, tossing the petals into the air.  They were about Hakeem’s current age, bodies already hard from work, faces dirty from rough play and their hair in need of cutting.  Their dusky faces turned her way, eyes lit by the emerald light of the nymph’s magic.  Shrieking playfully at the sight of Quincy, they bolted further into the forest.

The wizard gave a start.  “No, no!  Where are you going!?”

For a moment, Quincy hesitated, her azure eyes stricken with annoyance and concern.

Finally, with one last look over her shoulder, she hurried after the children.

NYX____________________________

My eyes grew wide.  ”Elle, tell me you didn’t.”

“Um…I didn’t?”

“Oh, Elle no!”

“Okay, okay!  I did!”

Despite my attempts at dissuading her, Elmiryn sought to heal herself once more.  She explained to me that it was seeing a sort of woven fabric, and all she had to do was mend a knot in the weave so that her essence could flow freely throughout her form.  It all sounded very alien and mystical to me, and I stared at the woman, suddenly struck by how…different she sounded.  Upon first meeting her, Elmiryn was about as mystical as a rock.  But given her newfound abilities, who was to say this wasn’t to be expected?  I didn’t need to look far for a supporting example–what with my talk of the Umbralands, and the Somnium, and Harmony.

But staring at the woman’s hand, I was thinking even then, there just had to be a line!

Holding it by the wrist, Elmiryn held up her limb, which had turned green and reptilian, talons, scales, and all.  ”I didn’t mean to!  It was an accident!”

Ashen-faced, I pointed at it.  “How was that an accident!?” I cried.

“I was thinking, about lizards and how they can just lose their tails and be done with the matter!  I didn’t mean to–”  She broke off and covered her mouth, but I could see the mirth in her eyes.

I shook my head emphatically.  “Elle, this isn’t funny!”

“I–I’m not–” but she snorted, and her hand fell away to let loose her laughter. “Sorry!  I’m not trying to make this into a joke, it just happened that way!  There’s been plenty of other things I’ve been thinking and those haven’t happened so–”

I looked at her sharply.  “Just what other things?”

Elmiryn blinked at me, her smile fading.  “Silly things.  Like, wouldn’t it be funny if six was nine?  Or if green became blue?  And wouldn’t it be strange if…” she trailed off, her eyes going wide.  “Oh.”

My stomach sank.  “‘Oh’ what?”

The warrior sucked at her teeth and looked away.  “I should really listen to that bastard when he tells me things in the future,” She mumbled.

I grabbed her around the shoulders.  “Elle, what is it?”

She looked at me somberly.  “I wondered why the beast always stayed away from the village.”

My eyes widened.  With a jump I stood.  “I have to go!”

Elmiryn grabbed at my ankle with her human hand.  “Nyx!”

I looked at her, startled and mildly vexed.  “Elle, I have to get back!”

She bit her lip and looked up at me through her eyelashes.  “I thought the timing was strange!  I wondered…Fuck–I wondered why do these things have to happen when we’re around?  And then you know what I thought?  It’s because it usually has to do with us…”

I narrowed my eyes, my mind working for some comprehension bought in my rising anxiety, that end was becoming increasingly distant.  I reached down and touched her shoulder.  ”I have to go back.  Everything will be fine, okay?”

The woman said nothing, just stared as I stepped away from her and slipped out of the Somnium and back into the Real World.  Making that transition was getting exceedingly quicker, but I felt a fatigue enter my limbs that nearly had me toppling to the ground.

Merid, who had been tending to the patient next to Elmiryn, gave a jump.

I was the first to recover as I leaned over onto the edge of Elmiryn’s cot.  ”Sorry!  It’s me.”

The gray-eyed man gave a nod, his eyes still misted over in wonder as he looked me up and down.  ”Ah.  Hello, Nyx.”

I gestured weakly at him.  ”Have you seen any of my companions?”

The man frowned and tapped a brown root against his jaw as he thought.  ”Mmm…well, Hakeem is training with the warriors, last I heard.  I’m afraid I do not know where the elemental fellow is, and…” he trailed off with a frown.

Turning he asked Eidan something in his native tongue, to which the old man gave a shake of his head.  When Merid returned his gaze, it was troubled.  ”That’s odd.”

My stomach clenching, I asked, “What is it?”

The man gave a small shrug.  ”I asked Quincy to fetch the arnicas we had collected earlier from outside.  That was quite a while ago.  They should’ve been right next to the door.  One of our patients began vomiting blood, so it all slipped my mind!”

I was already turned and hurrying toward the hut entrance before the man finished.  At his final words, however, I paused and gazed at him somberly.  ”Merid, if what I’m thinking is right, you’ll need to collect more of those flowers for tonight.”

With that I left, intent on finding Sedwick.  Just as I had feared, time had passed slower in Elmiryn’s sanctum than in reality, and it was already nearly time for the hunt.  I wasn’t sure what the warrior’s last words to me truly meant, or how it related to Quincy’s disappearance.  All I knew was that I had to fill in the blanks and act, fast.

Finding the ex-blacksmith wasn’t as hard as I’d originally thought.   He was providing water to some of the walking wounded, drawing a small crowd of on-lookers as he performed his water abilities.  Seeing me approach, he finished filling one more jug before excusing himself and greeting me.

“Nyx,” he said with a nod.

I returned it.  ”Sedwick, have you seen Quincy?” I was out of breath from running.

The man frowned and shook his head.

“Damn!” I cursed, looking around.

Sedwick touched my shoulder.  ”What is it?”

I looked at him, hands clenching at my sides.  ”Quincy may have gone missing.  I haven’t finished searching the village yet.  Would you mind helping me?”

“Of course not!  Let’s meet back at the great tree.”

“All right.”

And so we split, each of us going in opposite directions.  Though it made my anxiety worse, I even went so far as to ask some of the Lycans if they’d seen the wizard.  Many of them didn’t understand my common, and I got more than a few bared teeth for my trouble, but all answers were the same–no one had seen Quincy.

When my rounds were finished, I returned to the great tree as promised, and a moment later, Sedwick joined me.  The look on his face confirmed my fears.

“She’s gone,” I said, shoulders tensing.

Sedwick threw up his hands, his face tensing in frustration.  ”This doesn’t make any sense!  Why would she just vanish without telling anyone where she was off to?”

I rubbed my brow.  ”We have to tell Hakeem.”

“Tell me what?”

The young voice made me jump, and I turned to see Hakeem standing before us, Gudahi, Makka, and a small group of other Lycan warriors in tow.  The man-boy took a step forward, his eyes flickering from my face to Sedwick’s

My brows pressed up as I held up my hands.  ”Hakeem–”

With a yell, the wizard took off running, his roaring shouts belying his small form.  ”Mweze?  Mweze!?”

Sighing, I exchanged a brief look with Sedwick, and we quickly followed.  To my surprise, Gudahi and Makka were quick to fall in behind us.  Hakeem ran down the village trail, stopping occasionally to grab a passing villager and ask for his wife.  With each denial, he grew more frantic.  Finally, his wild search brought us to the western edge of the village where he collapsed to his knees and beat the ground with his fists.

My heart clenched at the sad sight of the wizard in such turmoil, his huddled form looking so lonely against the backdrop of the dark forest.

“Has something happened to his shimá?”  Gudahi asked, his eyes on Hakeem.

“She’s gone missing,” Sedwick explained.

The Lycan nodded his head gravely, then said something to Makka in Lycan.  The quiet hunter frowned and said something quietly, then touched a fist to his breast.

Gudahi explained upon seeing our inquisitive looks.  ”He says he’ll help find her…or avenge her, whatever the case is.”

I smiled wanly, then approached Hakeem.  I didn’t like Quincy, but after seeing what the beast did to its victims, I didn’t want that fate to be anyone’s, not even hers.  Gingerly, I moved to touch the young wizard’s shoulder when something caught my eye.  Frowning, I went to it and carefully picked it up.

“Arnicas!” I exclaimed.

“What?” Hakeem was looking at me, his eyes watery but no tears falling free.  He sniffed and stood as I held out the yellow petal I’d found.

“Arnicas have yellow blossoms.  Quincy was supposed to be getting the arnicas outside of the medicine hut!”

Hakeem blinked the moisture from his eyes as he stared at me, to the petal, and back.  Next his eyes fell on the ground where a moment’s search produced another petal, and another.

“There’s a whole trail!” he breathed.

I gestured for the others to come closer.

“What does this mean?” Sedwick asked after having looked at the petal.

I pointed the trail out to him and the two Lycan men.  With pursed lips and a rapidly beating heart, I said, “This means our hunt starts a little early!”

Back to Chapter 29.3 | Forward to Chapter 30.1

Increasingly, my life was becoming a strange thing.  It felt like a different breed of animal, and I could see my hand on its coarse neck, feeling its pulse, wondering when it would wake from its slumber to devour me.  People like me were not supposed to be extraordinary.  People like me were supposed to fade into dust, to be nothing more than a hated memory.  Now all of a sudden, I had things to fight for, and to my eternal surprise, someone who would fight for me.

There were things greater than I could understand.  Mystical battles between unfathomable beings, spiritual demons, and tyrannical beasts were becoming typical fare.  Amidst these things, the physical pain was always acute, and I was almost grateful for it.  It kept me grounded, kept me from losing touch with reality.  Elmiryn said she couldn’t understand it.  She even shied from it.  For me, it was all I had to know I wasn’t in some bizarre dream.

This surreal outlook was magnified tenfold upon returning from the Somnium.

Back in the place I had been before, I found that Quincy had taken to tending a Lycan whilst waiting for my return.  She looked at me in surprise.  It didn’t take long for that look to quickly melt into ire.

“Ailuran…word of advice.  Warn people before you do your vanishing act,” she snapped, her hands stilling on her patient.

I gave her a frigid glance.  ”Thank you.”

I gazed at Elmiryn.  In my mind’s eye, I still saw that white void filled with tumbling kittens and sparrows.  Now all I saw was the warrior’s body, bruised and battered and bereft of her spirit.  I felt the push of unreality threaten my comprehension and turned to leave.

Quincy’s voice stopped me.  ”Hey!”

I looked over my shoulder.  The woman was outright glaring at me now.

“Well?” she snapped.

“Well what?” I returned hotly.

“How is Elmiryn?  Did you even find her?”

“She’s fine,” I said, my eyes narrowing.  ”But she can’t return to her body because it’s in too much pain.”

Quincy’s brow tightened.  ”That…doesn’t sound good.”

The wizard returned her attention to her patient, wetting a cloth with a solution and pressing it to a man’s wounded arm.  ”I’ll do what I can for her,” she said somberly.

I hesitated a moment before nodding.  ”…Thank you.”

When I exited the medicine hut, I paused to look up at the great tree.  I could not see Artemis from where I stood, but wondered what the goddess was doing.  I didn’t understand what had happened, and it turned my stomach into knots.  I liked having my insides well and ordered…but I couldn’t leave the matter alone.  Just what would I do if it turned out that Elmiryn had been in the wrong?

…Just what would I do if it turned out that Elmiryn had been in the right?

Then I did away with the questions.  I had faith in her.  I knew the warrior wasn’t perfect, but I knew she wasn’t stupid, either.  There had to be a good reason for her to behave as she did.  Artemis wasn’t smiting her, at any rate, which I thought doubly odd.  If Elmiryn had defied her–truly defied her–then wouldn’t the goddess have seen fit to tear the woman asunder?  The situation was clearly a complicated one, and my exhaustion was making a poor audience of me.

Turning away I started to make my way back to the edge of the village where the hut Hakeem had given us appeared to me as a welcome sight.  But drifting along the village trail, I could not escape the feeling of unreality.  The deconstruction of all the expectations I had ever held for myself seemed complete, but in their place was just this question.  Just what could an abomination like myself do?  What else could I be?  I could bend shadows, could traverse the layers of reality, could command the attention of spirits…but in the end I still had the taint of my family’s death on my splintered soul, my other self still running off in the wilds and harboring nothing but loathing for me.  I was living some other life, and yet I didn’t know what role I was supposed to play.  My footsteps felt heavy with my questions, and for once I did not care for the eyes that turned my way.  I stared at the ground, the low spirit of the village filtering through my strange miasma.

It was about the time when I arrived at my new place of stay and crawled under the fur blankets, that I realized just what was really wrong.

Elmiryn wasn’t there.

———————————–

When I woke, it was to Hakeem’s voice drifting in through the hut curtain.

“Nyx, it is time to wake.”

I whined and turned my face away.  Even in my sudden loneliness, sleep had stolen me in a quick, but restless sleep.  All through the night I was plagued with bad dreams.  I saw a world filled with bloody battlefields, saw the horrible nymph giant attacking my village, saw myself as a little girl being hunted by a pack of pretas…  After each dream I would wake, dazed and confused only to find myself alone.  I wanted to hide away, to return to Elmiryn in her strange pocket of reality…but somehow I knew I had to be reachable to the others.  I couldn’t be ready to help, to act, to contribute if I were gone in some unfathomable domain.  So with a sense of dread, I closed my eyes and slipped into the next black nightmare.

Sleep?  One could say I did that, but rest was another matter entirely…

The low light coming through the spaces of the hut curtain seemed offensive to me.  I could hear the sounds of village life outside, hear foreign voices speaking, hear unfamiliar birds chirping in the trees.  I curled away from it all.

“Nyx.”  Hakeem’s young voice sounded clearer.  He must have poked his head through the entrance.  ”Tai’undu…ikati are you really going to be like this?”

I growled and squeezed my eyes shut harder, feeling my ire rise.

Hakeem sighed, arms slapping at his sides.  I had a brief mental image of him doing this and immediately thought it strange.  The adult Hakeem I had first met wasn’t the type for such expressions.  Then again, it had been established I knew nothing of him.  His voice sounded over me, impatient.  “I just wanted to let you know that breakfast is being served.  Just like last night, if you aren’t there, you aren’t getting any.”  I heard him turn to leave.

At the thought of food, I perked my head up, my eyes squinting.

The wizard paused and looked back at me.  His young face broke into a smirk.  ”Too predictable.”

It took a moment for me to get my shoes back on, but with hands shielding my eyes, we emerged outside.  I was surprised to see that the sky had changed to match something akin to day.  Not literally, of course.  There was no sun, not even clouds, and the sky lacked that beautiful blue hue, and was instead just a glaring white.  It was like a bright canvas, waiting for some mode of expression.  Light seemed to flood everywhere, despite the lack of a source, and the village stirred with all the activity one might expect in the morning–chickens were being tended to, rugs being beat, and daily devotion was being offered.  The latter was directed toward the great tree, with Lycans kneeling on the dirt with a fist over their heart, heads bowed, lips murmuring in a sort of prayer.

I blinked at them, then turned away, feeling it was rude to stare at those in worship.  My eyes eventually adjusted as we came to the village center where, just as last night, a station had been set up where people were being served.  This communal service was foreign to me, as back in my home village, people cooked for themselves.  Granted, Tosmai was a much bigger than this settlement, but the Lycans seemed to have a greater sense of unity and brotherhood.  I found myself envious.

The line for food stretched all the way around the great tree, back to the village trail we were emerging from.  Hakeem stood in line, and with a groan, I stood in after him.

“The line is so long,” I groused.  ”I may as well have stayed asleep!”

“You do look quite tired,” Hakeem observed.  I had a feeling he was trying to be generous.

My jaw clenched and I glared at the ground.  ”I had a rough night.”

“Your friend isn’t all that far, you know.”

I glanced at the wizard sharply, and he looked at me sideways.  ”The day is free.  You can visit her whenever you like.”

“Quincy told you about last night?”

“Yes.”

“Where is your wife, anyway?”

“Still asleep.  She was up late tending to the wounded.”  Hakeem shook his head.  ”As far as hunts go, this was the worse.  We had less injured, but more dead.  Two Lycans died in the medicine hut upon being returned.”

I bit my lip and turned away.

Hakeem nudged me.  ”Ikati.  We would not have reached those men in time.  It wasn’t your fault.”

I clenched my fists.  ”Seconds count.  If we hadn’t been distracted by my Twin, then–”

“You never did tell me what that was all about.”

I broke off, startled.  With a swallow, I shrugged.  “It’s…” I sighed. “Complicated.”

“And how many people have you managed to deter with that line?”

I rolled my eyes.  “None.”

“So?”

I rubbed at my face, then gestured for him to come closer.  When he did, I hissed, “All right, all right.  I may as well tell you.  I’ve already told Sanuye–”

“By no gentle means, I imagine.”

My brow tightened.  “No.”  Then my expression relaxed.  “I was…surprised, though.”

The wizard raised an eyebrow at me.  “By her reaction?”

“Well, yes.  But moreso by her decision.”

“Which was…?”

I ran my hand through my hair.  “She wants to help me.”

Hakeem smiled at me wryly.  “Lycans are known to do that from time to time y’know.”

I bit my lip and looked around us.  “I’m…nervous to talk about this around so many.  There’s more Common speakers than I’d first thought, and I’d like to keep my business my own.”

The wizard shrugged his hands.  “Then we shall wait until later.  Perhaps once we get our food?”

“All right.”

We resumed our wait in silence, and I found myself peering at Hakeem in curiosity.  I wondered if his change in demeanor had anything to do with his youthful form, and if so, would he once again be the hard-nosed, taciturn man I’d first met?

My thoughts were cut short as Sedwick joined us.

He held out a hand to the people behind us, “I’m not in line,” before he greeted us.  “Good morning!”

“Morning,” we said simultaneously.

The elemental crossed his arms as he looked at me.  “I missed you last night.  How did things go?”

“I have a few things to tell you…” I said, glancing at Hakeem.  “I was going to fill Hakeem in on a few details too, once we get settled.”

Sedwick nodded.  “That’s fine, I understand.”

A pause.

I gestured awkwardly at the man.  “Sooo…how did your hunt go?”

He shrugged, his mouth screwing up.  “We were fine.  Had to deal with a rogue growth spirit.  The taint going on has been affecting the balance.  The Lycans have been doing a superb job of keeping the situation from getting out of hand, but with time, this monster that is stalking their forest is going to turn everything on its head.”  He rubbed his scar, his brow pressing up.  “I…went to see Elmiryn.”

I smiled sardonically.  “Yes, she looks quite bad, doesn’t she?”

“Nyx, I’m sorry I held you back at the fight, but I had to.  Lycan tradition is something these people take seriously, and if you’d have interfered, there would have been serious–”

I held up a hand, and locked eyes with the man. “You did what you thought was right.  What came after was beyond everyone’s control.”

“So you know about what happened at the end of the fight?”

Hakeem cleared his throat.  “I filled her in on those details.”

I puckered my lips, my nose tickling in displeasure.  “Yes.”

Sedwick looked at me uncomfortably.  “Quincy tells me Elmiryn is still in there somewhere.”

“That’s because I told her that.  I visited Elmiryn using my abilities as a champion.  She’s in a strange little pocket of reality.  Her body is in too much pain for her to return…for her to want to return.”

Sedwick held his chin, the other arm crossing over his chest.  “And you can visit her whenever you like?”

I nodded.  “As far as I know, yes.  So long as the way to her is open, I can.”

In all this time, the line had steadily moved up.  We were closer to the great tree now.

Hakeem frowned up at me, his arms crossing.  “What could close the way?”

I blinked and thought about it a moment.  “I suppose if her body died, or if she ventured too far into the unknown.”  I gave a shudder.  “I’d rather not think on it too hard.”

The conversation, if one could call it that, dried up.  We were served our food, and with me leading, we found a comfortable spot away from any wandering ears.  Sedwick and Hakeem sat at either side of me, bowls of mixed rice, stewed deer meat, and egg in their hands.  I took a few hungry bites of my meal, the words sorting about in my head.  Once I decided on how I wanted to explain things, I set in.  The story of my Twin was nothing new to Sedwick, but nevertheless I had an attentive audience in him.  Hakeem was equally interested, if not, moreso.  He stopped eating as soon as I started, his eyes fastened onto my face–and it was with great discomfort that I recognized that hawkish attention I’d already seen in Quincy.  He was weighing my words, my priorities, my emotions.

Once my tale was done, I gave Sedwick a brief update on my recent encounter with my Twin.  He leaned forward onto his watery legs, his brow furrowed deeply.  Hakeem, meanwhile, was still looking at me.

“So that beast was a part of you…” he murmured.

I looked at him warily.  ”Yes.  She is a part of my soul.”

“But she has her own will.”

“Yes.”

He shook his head gravely.  ”That is against all laws of nature.”  He held up both hands as if testing the weight of two different things.  ”There is mental malady in which a person’s mind becomes so broken that their interactions with the world are similarly broken.  But what you are saying is something else entirely.  Your mind is in tact.  Your soul however…”

“I am against nature.  I am something that isn’t supposed to exist.”

Hakeem frowned at me.  ”To have two separate souls in one body is impossible.  Either one of you assimilates the other or you’ll perish.  The tug of war on your body would surely tear it apart in time!”

“I know that!” I snapped.  I closed my eyes and swallowed.  ”I know that…” I said more gently.  ”Elmiryn and I had a plan.  Well…more of a lead.”

“What kind of lead?”

I opened my mouth, then hesitated.  Hakeem was a bounty hunter.  So was Quincy.  It was true they were working with us now, but what about later?  Could I trust them not to turn on us?

At the prolonged pause, the young wizard held up a hand.  ”Ah.  I see.  Do not worry then.”

I felt a pang in my gut.  ”Hakeem–”

He looked at me, brows raised.  ”Ikati, you have plenty of reasons to feel as you do.  Think nothing of it.”

My mouth closed, but I felt guilty all the same.  Sedwick glanced at me sidelong, and I couldn’t be sure if he was disappointed in me or sympathetic.  Feeling low, I finished my food.

It was about around my last bites that someone descended on me from behind, their weight neatly folding me over my legs.  Sputtering, I tried to look at my assailant.  I heard a voice before I saw a face, and immediately knew who it was.

“Ahoj!  My pet I’ve missed you!”

“Get off me Gudahi!” I snapped, beating at him with my shoulders.

The man pulled back, laughing.  I glared at him over my shoulder as Hakeem sighed next to me.  ”Ahoj, Gudahi,” he said.

Gudahi settled back onto his feet, Makka just a little behind him.  He bowed his head at me in greeting, and I nodded at him in return before my eyes flickered onto his taller companion.

The handsome man flipped his long dark hair over his shoulder, then winked at me. “Now, now!  I was only playing, little one.”

I looked away from him, remembering Lycan etiquette, but my patience was not very tolerant that morning.  I stood abruptly and looked at Hakeem and Sedwick.  ”Thank you for eating with me.  I’m going to check on Elmiryn.”

“I’ll see you tonight, Nyx,” Hakeem said.

Sedwick gave a small wave.  ”Tell her I said to get better, fast.  I’m sort of missing her harassment.”

I gave a wry smile.  With a glance at Makka and Gudahi, I left.

HAKEEM_________________________

Hakeem watched the girl leave, then turned to spare a quick glare Gudahi’s way.  ”You should not tease her so.  She is in love.”

The Lycan slapped a hand to his heart, a dreamy look on his face.  ”With me?  All ready?  Spirits preserve me!”

Despite himself, the wizard smiled.  Turning his eyes to his empty bowl, he said,  ”Not this time, I’m afraid.  She loves another.”

Gudahi clicked his tongue as he slid smoothly into Nyx’s spot.  ”Damn!  Can’t have them all, I suppose.”

“You really aren’t bothered by her show of power last night?”

“Bothered?” The man looked at the wizard with an amused grin.  ”My friend, the goddess I worship currently occupies the central tree of my village, and a beast of unknown origin and shape is ravaging my land.  There are stranger things to consider!”

Hakeem let out a short laugh.  ”Ah.  You are right, of course.”

Gudahi leaned over to Sedwick, his smile curling.  ”And who is your peculiar friend?”

The elemental held out a hand.  ”Sedwick.  I work with Nadi, guardian of the Medwin River.”

The Lycan’s brows rose high.  ”Nadi’s personal thrall?  Here?” He turned his head slowly back to Hakeem.  ”Let me say again…there are stranger things to consider!”

Hakeem shook his head at the man.  ”Are you going to train today?”

Gudahi nodded, his face turning more somber.  ”Of course.  We return to the fields to practice forms.”

“I think I’ll be joining you again today.”

“You do not have another session with Eidan?”

Hakeem sighed and stood.  ”I think it’s clear that whatever way there is to change myself back to normal cannot be found in a healer’s hut.  As my companions tell it, I have to move forward to find what is lost…”

ELMIRYN________________________

“1023…1024…1025…”

She was counting kittens when Nyx came.  The woman felt her presence like a warm breeze, and she perked up like an excited puppy at the sight of her beloved friend.

Grinning, Elmiryn rushed forward for a hug.  ”Nyx!”

The girl was clothed this time around, as there wasn’t a nude Doll for her to occupy.  Her eyes shone as she returned the woman’s grin.  The void rang with her laughter, and the shadows overhead shivered.

“Elle!  Sweet Aelurus, you’re behaving as if I’ve been gone an age!”

The woman laughed, pulling back, strands of her hair falling into her eyes.  ”It feels that way!  Did you know I’ve been counting these critters since you left?  It was the only way I could make my thoughts behave.”

Nyx smiled teasingly.  ”I heard you just now.  I believe you were at 1025?”

Elmiryn shook her head, her eyes rolling.  ”Naw.  I lost count like four times.  I got up to 3000 last time.”

The girl squinted her eyes, her head tilting to the side. “Have…I been gone that long?  Really?”

The woman shrugged.  ”I didn’t sleep.  I mean.  I can’t.  I’m not in a body to sleep in, after all.”

“Oh!”  Nyx bit her lip. “I’m sorry you were left alone for so long!  I didn’t even consider that you’d be forced to sit here like that…”

Elmiryn traced a finger over the girl’s cheek.  Nyx’s face shone with something bright, and the warrior wondered if she were really the reason for it.  She took her hand and gently buried it in the girl’s dark locks.  Again, she could feel nothing of it, but a pleasure rose in her.

“I want…” the woman started.  Her eyes settled on Nyx’s tawny gaze, and she stepped closer.  ”I want to try and come back.”

Nyx bit her lip and reached up to the woman’s face.  ”Only if you think it’ll be safe, Elle.  I want you well.”

“And I want to feel you.  I want to be there.” Elmiryn returned, her eyes burning.  She made no attempt to explain to the girl how hellish it had been, sitting in an empty space with only illusions as company.  She made no attempt to explain how a single night had felt like a year, or how the shadows had rebelled against her too many times to count.  The alien being in her white box never moved, the falling animals never ceased coming, and the ways of light seemed forever on the cusp of defeat.

The warrior stepped back and closed her eyes.  She sought her body, knew the way as intuitively as one knew their own limbs.

The black heavy curtain was thick with pain.  Darkness lapped at the edges of her consciousness and she gasped, struggling to pull away in time before the trappings of mortality found her.

Elmiryn screamed and fell backward, her voice echoing all around them.

Nyx was at her side in an instant, her face drawn long in fear as she held the woman by the shoulders.  ”Elle!  Gods!  Are you okay!?”

“Too much,” the woman gasped, clutching at her heart with her right hand. She shook her head frantically.  ”I can’t.”

The woman tried to sit up with both her arms but found only her right arm to respond.  Her left lay dead next to her.  She stared at it, a sudden roaring in her ears as she felt herself turn cold.  Her eyes slowly moved to meet Nyx’s.  The Ailuran blinked at her, nonplussed.

“Elle?” she whispered.

The woman moved her tongue against the roof of her mouth, then sucked at her teeth.  With a contemplative frown, she considered her arm.  The feelings of her body were not entirely gone this time, just muted.  The pain became a low buzz in the distant background, and she felt heavier…more real.

The only reason I’m keeping myself together is because I know my pattern.

Elmiryn looked at her companion, a slow smile creeping across her lips.  ”…Y’know what, Nyx?  I take that back.  Maybe I can.”

Back to Chapter 29.2 | Forward to Chapter 29.4

- Excerpt from e.e. cummings  “what if a much of a which of a wind”.

ELMIRYN________________________

When strings of darkness bunched into a knot thicker than her worse hair tangle, the woman was about to throw her hands into the air (and was even upon the point of detaching them at the wrists) when she heard Nyx’s voice behind her.

Elmiryn shoulders hunched, her gut twisting as if she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.  She looked over her shoulder, and sure enough, Nyx had sat up, her tawny eyes blinking.  She had a lock of her long dark hair between her fingers, her brow knitted as she wobbled in the void for a moment, like she were on an unsteady raft.  Her arms flashed out at her sides, a small cry slipping her lips before her body steadied.

“Oh!” the warrior said.  She grinned sheepishly just as she felt her hand firmly reattach itself, then turned and regarded the girl.  ”I was beginning to think you’d just stay a doll!  So you came here through…the what?  The world’s dream?  It starts with an ‘s’, but I can’t remember the–”

“No clothes?” Nyx interjected, looking down at herself.

No hello.  The woman wondered if the girl were angry or just in shock.

Elmiryn chuckled and rubbed the back of her neck.  ”I…guess not.”

Nyx looked at her just with her eyes. “You guess?” Her tone was dry.

The redhead flinched.  She started to lean toward “angry”.

She started to explain.  ”Well I’m not in complete control of everything yet.  Things just sort of showed up and–” the woman broke off as she felt the shadows shift her definition.  She turned to them in irritation, shoving them back into place with her spirit.  Looking back at the girl, she said in a simple voice, “It’s–uh–a work in progress.”

“I see,” but judging by the expression on Nyx’s face, she was more confused than ever.  The girl wrinkled her nose at all the animals floating through the air, and asked, “Why kittens and sparrows?”

Elmiryn shrugged.  ”Why not?”

Next, the Ailuran looked up, and she gave a start, a hand flying to her mouth.  ”Sweet Aelurus, who’s that?”

“Who?”

“Her, of course!” Nyx pointed up her expression drawn in incredulity.

Elmiryn looked, then sighed and placed her hands on her hips.  ”Yee-ah…’bout that…I have no idea.  She won’t go away.  Or it won’t go away.  However you want to say it.”

Nyx ran a hand through her hair, giving her surroundings another sweep.  ”Elmiryn, I don’t know if I’ve said this already, but this is really strange!” She sounded out of breath.

“No, you haven’t said it already, but yes, it is.”

Nyx blushed suddenly and hugged her legs to her chest.  ”Were you…w-were you…touching me before?”

Elmiryn frowned.  ”No.  I said I’d wait for you to become real.”

“Real?”

“Never mind.  I wasn’t touching you.”

“But…I felt you.”

“…Oh.  Well.  I was touching you earlier, but–”

“You mean your tongue wasn’t–” Nyx broke off, unable to continue.

Elmiryn gave her a confused look before her eyebrows rose and her mouth made a big circle.  ”Ooooh.” The woman’s cheeks flushed and she stubbed a toe in the imaginary ground.  ”Umm…sorry.  I was…thinking.  I didn’t actually do any of that.”  She kneaded her brow.  ”Fuck.  I’m really sorry.”

The girl gazed at her for a moment before she offered a shy smile.  ”It’s okay.  You didn’t know.”

“It didn’t cause you trouble, I hope?”

“Oh, no!  Thank goodness.  It happened after the hunt was over and I was able to hide my reactions.”

The woman smiled wolfishly.  ”Reactions, huh?”

Nyx pouted at her.  ”It isn’t funny!  I nearly had an…and in front of Quincy of all people!” The girl gave a shudder.

The woman giggled, greatly tickled by the mental image.  ”I can see that how that can be awkward!”

“Hush!” Nyx chided, but she was smiling as she made to stand. “It was horrific!”

Elmiryn raised an eyebrow.  Within a moment, Nyx had become within arm’s reach when before she’d been yards away.  ”My, but someone is wanting!” The woman teased.

The girl was startled by her sudden shift in space and stared behind her.  ”I–but–I didn’t take a step!”

The warrior closed the space between them, a smirk on her lips.  ”You’re right.  You didn’t have to.  I did.”

Nyx stared up into the woman’s eyes, the blush on her cheeks deepening.  ”How does that work?” she breathed.

Elmiryn caressed her cheek, then brushed back a lock of hair from the girl’s forehead.  Touch did not work here, as she was not in her body, but the idea of being in contact with the girl flushed the woman with pleasure.  ”Intent.  Intent moves things here.  Must’ve been why you felt my thoughts when I hadn’t been touching your doll.”

“Then don’t you have the intent to go back to your body?”

The warrior’s hand stilled against the girl’s cheek.  She pulled back.  ”It hurts there.”

“But if you stay out of your body too long–”

“My body needs time to heal.” Elmiryn turned and walked away.  Walking was unnecessary to create space, but the action made her feel better.  She sat and gazed upward.  ”Every time I try to connect with it, I feel pain.  Too much pain.  I’m…not like you, Nyx.  I’m not used to that kind of suffering.” The words came slowly, quietly.  But for all her whispering, she may as well have been shouting it.  The warrior pursed her lips and glared over her shoulder, as if daring the girl to say she needed to be stronger.

But Nyx just looked at her somberly, her hands clasped before her.  ”I didn’t even think about that.”  She looked down at her feet.  ”I’m sorry.  I was just thinking of myself.”  The girl’s hands tightened and she frowned.  ”I just didn’t want to be away from you like this.”

Elmiryn chuckled.  ”Away from me?” She twisted around fully to smile at the girl.  ”Nyx, you just chased me into my own mindfuck.  I’d say that distance is not a problem.”

The girl smiled wryly.  ”Especially given that all we need is a step.”

The warrior nodded, her smile softening.  ”Just a step.”  She looked forward again, her stomach clenching as she wondered what Nyx’s next move would be.

“Can I tell you something?” Elmiryn said, to hide her anticipation.

“What?” Nyx still sounded far off.

The woman bit her thumb and looked up at the strange alien woman, whose skin flushed red, then royal blue, then electric yellow.  The shift in hues and tones were mesmerizing, and for a moment she forgot her ire toward the odd fixture.  ”Back in Fiamma, they used to call me the Silken Warrior.  A stupid name, really…but they called me that because I never got more than a few scratches in battle.  People said I was hand chosen by Halward.  To them, it explained how a woman like me could serve in a man’s army.”  The woman snorted into a laugh.  ”The kingdom has no laws preventing women from serving, but they were so rare that protocol demanded that every serving officer be referred to as ‘sir’.  It was really awkward when I made First Lieutenant because of the stupid honorific.  ’Yes, sir.  No, sir.’  The first week after my promotion I had to fight my hardest to keep from laughing.  The looks on everyone’s faces when they abided that rule was more than enough to take the edge off my day!”

Elmiryn hugged her knee, her eyes misting in memories whose images had already become foggy and white-washed, but whose voices stayed bright and true.  ”After a while, of course, everyone got used to it. Even me.  And then, after I came out of my fourth major battle unscathed, it became a given.  I could see the switch in people’s eyes…a small dose of awe mixed in with whatever other emotion you can imagine.  Jealousy.  Disgust.  Lust.  Admiration.  I don’t know who started calling me the Silken Warrior, but if I ever met them I’d have to fight not to kill them.  Really fight.”

“Why did you hate the name so much?” Nyx sounded a little closer.

Elmiryn shrugged.  ”Because.  I didn’t know what real pain was.  I mean, sure.  I got hurt.  Bruises and sprains and all that.  But never a broken bone.  Never a lost limb.  Never so much as a gash.  After a while, it makes the fighting feel surreal.  Like you aren’t really there.  Like you’re…” she gave a huff.  ”Like you’re a ghost.”

The woman pressed her fingers into her eyes, stars tunneling behind her eyelids.  ”I liked being a dragoon because we got the riskiest missions.  Leading the charge across enemy lines.  Attacking a heavily fortified garrison whilst outnumbered.  Hunting down an Ailuran leader through enemy lands.  We got it all, and I loved it because it gave me a chance to feel alive.  I got bored with anything else.  I was arrogant, thinking I was somehow invincible.  Halward never spoke to me, despite what everyone said, so I started to get it into my head that it wasn’t godly intervention, just my own fucking brilliance that saw me through.”

The woman dropped her hands, her eyelids stinging.  She spat and wiped at her mouth.  ”I was a fool.”

“What happened…” Nyx asked quietly.  She was closer still.

Elmiryn smiled and shook her head.  ”It wasn’t the gods that were protecting me.”  She looked over her shoulder to see Nyx was standing right behind her, her brow tight as she looked down at the woman.  The woman held the girl’s gaze for a moment before she said, “It was Meznik.”

Now Nyx’s face screwed up in that recognizable fashion of disgust before it quickly melted into confusion.  ”Why would he do that?”

“I already told you.  He thinks I’m his toy.”

“Meznik isn’t a god.”

The woman laughed harshly.  ”I know that.”

“But wouldn’t you have noticed something?”

Elmiryn turned away, her eyes sweeping over the sea of spiraling animals.  ”Look around us,” she said.  She held out her hands.  ”This isn’t a world.  Just theatrical backdrops still in need of painting for use in some dramatic play.  Like empty canvasses.  I can do what I want with them.  That’s why there’s no sky, no ground, no gravity, no true space.  Everything here is imagined.  Everything here is just shaped by intent.”  She looked back at Nyx.  ”Remember when we first helped Nadi?  Meznik drove her insane not because he did anything to her, but because he shifted about her perception.  He changed her backdrops.  Who is to say he didn’t do the same to me?  To my enemies?”

The woman chuckled again and bit her knuckle.  She felt Nyx sit next to her, but did not shift.  The redhead had been afforded plenty of time to think about things.  The answers had come hard.  They had required her to pull away the trappings of mortal thinking, and though it was so alien, she found that such boundaries were much easier to slip by these days.

“He got mad at me,” Elmiryn breathed, her eyes narrowing.  ”He got mad because I got arrogant and thought all my good fortune was my own doing.  It makes sense now, all the things he’s ever told me.  I could hear the limp in his ego every now and again, but I didn’t get it.  I thought he was just being evil and crazy.  But it makes sense doesn’t it?  Meznik’s done more for me than all the gods combined and–”

“He hasn’t done anything for you,” Nyx snarled.  She grabbed the woman’s hand, and Elmiryn looked at her sideways.

Nyx’s tawny eyes flashed as she spoke through her teeth.  ”Elmiryn, please.  I know you’re frustrated with the gods, but Meznik is our enemy not our ally, not even our provisional ally!  He’s hurt and killed hundreds of people because of what he’s done, and it doesn’t matter that it was directly or indirectly!  He has to be stopped!”

“I know that…” Elmiryn breathed, still looking at the girl sideways.  ”I never said I liked the guy, and I still fully intend on running him through…but I have to get close enough to kill him.  I have to play along.”

“Until when?” Nyx hissed.  ”Until he’s telling you to kill your friends!?”

Elmiryn’s face tightened and she ripped her hand away from Nyx.  ”Don’t.  You know I wouldn’t do that.”

The girl took a deep breath and closed her eyes, turning her head away.  ”Elmiryn, you’re changing.”

“So are you.  It’s the nature of life to change.  If you’re static, you’re either dead or nonexistent.”

“No.  I mean–You’re starting to get horns.”

This made the woman pause.  ”I’m…what?”

Nyx looked at her, her eyes dry but her face still shifting as if she were about to break down.  ”I can see the seed that Meznik planted in you.  It’s grown and spread throughout you, and there are these…horns, like new branches, coming out of either side of your forehead.  Just at the hairline.”  The girl pointed out the spots weakly.

Elmiryn swallowed.  ”That’s what you see?  Because of your–”

“Yes.  That’s what the Somnium shows me.  I don’t know if it’s literal.  Lacertli said the Somnium is the world’s dream, and therefor what we see is representative of the truth, but…” the girl’s voice trailed away.

The woman felt cold.  ”I’m not human anymore,” she whispered.

“Elle, I don’t think the change is complete–”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s complete.  I’m not really human anymore.”

“Elmiryn–”

“What!?” The woman shouted, glaring at Nyx.  The tenderness in the girl’s voice was going to drive her insane. ”Don’t sugarcoat things, Nyx, gods damn it, I’m not fucking human anymore!  Just say it!  Don’t coddle me!  Say it!”

When Nyx spoke, it was in a whisper.  ”I don’t care what you are.  I don’t.  I really don’t.  I just…I care for you, and I want you…and I don’t want Meznik to destroy you.  Who you are.”

“What if who I am is something that can’t exist in the world of the gods?  What if who I am is cruel, mercurial, and demented?”

“If you can’t exist in the world of the gods, then we’ll find a world you can exist in.  And I know you aren’t cruel, mercurial, and demented…you’re just scared.”

“I’m not scared,” Elmiryn said automatically, her voice tight.

Nyx’s voice choked.  ”Than I am for you!”

The redhead’s throat tightened and she turned to the girl, seeing the tears coursing down her face.  ”Gods damn it, Nyx,” she hissed, before pulling the Ailuran to her in a tight hug.

“You cry too much,” the woman murmured into the girl’s hair.

“And you’re hardheaded,” the girl returned, her voice muffled by the woman’s shoulder.  She sniffled and wiped at her eyes.

“You defied Artemis, Elle.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

“I can’t remember.”

“Somehow, I’m not surprised…”

Elmiryn blinked the moisture from her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat, her hand petting the girl’s head.  ”Before…when you were talking about finding a new world…you said we.  Did you mean that?”

The girl smacked her lightly in the ribs.  ”Cajeck!  Of course I did!”

Nyx lifted her eyes and the woman held her face, her lips quivering.  ”I…” she shook her head slowly. “I don’t want to hurt you.  There are consequences beyond either of us can imagine right now, and I don’t want to hurt you, Nyx.”

The girl smiled and kissed Elmiryn’s wrist.  ”I know you don’t.”

“I mean it, Nyx.  I’m…with everything that’s going on, it’s getting a little harder to keep it together, nice as my clarity is in the Other Place.  I’m fucking changing, and I don’t think it’s even true to say I’m half-human anymore.  I’ve already lashed out at you and the others.  More and more, I don’t feel like there’s an ounce of charity in me.  I just push things to the limit, all just so that I can feel something close to normal, and it never comes out nice for the people around me.  Ask my family.  Ask my old friends.  Ask Quincy and Sedwick for fuck’s sake!”

“I wouldn’t ask the wizard for directions to a pot of gold,” the girl snorted.

“Then just take my word for it!”

“Do you want me to leave you?” Nyx asked, her eyes flashing in worry.

Elmiryn shook her head slowly.  ”No…”

“Then shut up.”

“Nyx–”

“Fuck you, Elmiryn.”

The woman blinked.

Nyx was glaring up at her.  ”Don’t you think I know what it’s like to sit in a dark place and feel the despair creeping into you?  Don’t you think I understand?  When my family died, I wanted to kill myself.  I almost did, too.  But Marq, an old friend of mine, saved me.”  The girl smiled sardonically.  ”You think you’re lashing out at us now?  You should have seen me with Marq!  I wanted nothing of his help, and told him, too, in no uncertain words.  He sacrificed himself for me.  He fought to keep me alive, and I didn’t understand why at the time, but in the end, he succeeded.  I decided to keep on living and to go East to find a new life.  That’s when I met you, Elle.”

Nyx traced the lizard mark on her breast.  ”I know you dislike the gods.  Maybe it has to do with your fae nature.  Maybe it’s all to do with your experiences.  But my experiences with them led me to you, and I believe more and more that maybe this was all supposed to happen.  If there is a cure for what’s happening to you, Elle, we’ll find it.  And if not?  We’ll deal with it, then!  But I’m not going anywhere, and certainly not because you’re afraid of hurting me.  So just shut the hell up!”

Elmiryn’s eyes had slipped to half-mast as she listened to the girl’s small rant.  Nyx remained firm for about a minute before the tension in her brow softened and her lip started to pout.

“What?” she mumbled.

The warrior grinned and touched the girl’s nose.  ”You’re starting to get a dirty mouth.”

The girl closed her eyes and shook her head.  ”Take me serious!  I’ve made my decision, Elle.  Come what may, I’m there with you.”

“Okay.”  Elmiryn’s grin widened and she tried not  to laugh from the joy.  ”Okay!”  The woman enveloped the girl in another hug, her hands roving the girl’s back.  Here, their usual barriers were absent, and Nyx made no sign of feeling discomfort.

As the woman’s hands lighted over the girl’s skin, she found that she didn’t feel deterred by her lack of feeling.  Somehow, it made her hungrier, her soul feeling hot as the shadows shivered and the light scorched, highlighting a single true fact–

Elmiryn couldn’t get enough of Nyx.

The girl’s eyes slipped shut, stealing away that warm gaze, and the woman exhaled in mild frustration.  Her hands buried into the girl’s hair, tilting her head back, and Elmiryn kissed her, softly, before tracing her tongue along the Ailuran’s bottom lip.  Nyx’s hands were on the woman’s hips and they tightened as she stood on her toes to better taste the woman with her own tongue.  The warm impetuous desire made Elmiryn sigh, and with a gentle suggestion, she guided the girl down and laid over her.  Her hands did not behave, but Nyx didn’t seem to mind…

The heated play went on for some time before Nyx pushed the woman back, panting. “Elle, I–gods damn it–I left Quincy back at the medicine hut!”

Elmiryn frowned, already disappointed by the interruption.  ”So?”

“So she’s watching over your body so that I can go back!  I don’t much like the woman, but she’s helping to heal people, and with the Lycans returning from their hunt, well…” the girl trailed off with a pout.

The warrior rolled over to sit next to the girl, and Nyx sat up, her face red.

The girl made as if to move, but paused, a look of befuddlement on her face.

“What is it?” the woman asked, leaning back onto her hands.

Nyx glanced at her.  ”Elle…I sensed you were touching me, but I didn’t feel you.  Does that make sense?”

The woman nodded, a lazy grin on her face.  ”Yes.  You may have come here, body and whole, but I’m just here in spirit.” Elmiryn chuckled.  ”I really am a ghost!”

“And I am the Twin…” Nyx murmured.

Elmiryn looked at her friend sharply.  Her ears had perked to anxiety in the girl’s voice.  ”Kitten?”

Her companion bit her lip and looked away.  ”I…found Her.”

“Who?”

“Her.”

The woman’s eyebrows rose high as it clicked.  ”Oh!”

The girl nodded miserably.  ”You can just imagine how that went.”

“Not well?”

Nyx groaned and buried her face into the woman’s shoulder. “It was a disaster.  She hates me.  I mean, she was never fond of me before, but…but when we tried to help Lethia free Syria, we managed a sort of…alliance.  It wasn’t perfect, but we had started working together. Now she’s furious with me because she’s been stuck in these forests, fleeing the monster and avoiding the Lycans.  I also forgot my promise to her.”

“Promise?”

“I said I’d give her a name.”

The warrior fixed her with a scowl.  ”You said you’d give her a name?”

“I realize the implications, but at the time there was nothing I could do!” Nyx said with a sigh.  ”She was being obstinate and time was of the essence.”

“So now what?”

The girl held up her hands.  ”I don’t know.” She glanced around her one last time, her lip between her teeth, before she stood.  ”I have to go.”

Elmiryn tried to ignore the twist of her gut at those words and failed miserably.  She rubbed at her face with one hand, before letting it cover her eyes.  ”All right.”

Nyx touched her shoulder.  ”Elle?”

The woman looked up at the girl.  ”Yes?”

“You’re just as real as I am…remember that, okay?”

Elmiryn blinked, then nodded slowly, her brow wrinkling slightly.  ”…Sure.”

And with that, the girl was gone.  No puff of smoke.  No ring in the air.  Just gone.

The redhead stared at the place where her friend had been, then challenged the word ‘friend’, and wondered if it were more appropriate to say ‘lover’ at this point.  She sighed and felt annoyed by the Words, so she left them alone.  Nyx was better at handling those things.

Elmiryn looked around at all the kittens and sparrows, then looked up at the alien being in its white box.  Without moving her lips, she spoke, “I’m not scared…I’m not.”

Back to Chapter 29.1 | Forward to Chapter 29.3