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fableweaver · 5 years

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Arc of the Little Saint

Arc of the Little Saint

Dreaming of colored mist and suns among stars, Demi walked past the burning tree and into the forest in the sky. She wandered hidden paths, seeing spirits wandering much like her. Some met and embraced, some laughed and feasted, and some sat in silent contemplation of the wonders around them. These were the dead, yet Demi knew she did not belong here.

Before she had seen dragons and hints of other creatures, but Demi was walking the paths of the dead in this strange forest. She did not encounter those creatures here. She kept going, avoiding paths that had light and voices, seeing creatures of legend down those paths. Demi soon found herself in shadows, the light of the stars and moons dim here. The air was heavy, laden with silence so Demi walked softly through the mossy forest.

She came upon a great twisted weeping willow. Demi walked under the hanging foliage amazed at the beauty of the tree, the pale silver leaves almost glowing in the dim light. She stopped shocked when under the tree she saw what hung from the drooping foliage. Heads hung in the tree, thousands of severed heads. Demi stared shocked, but the heads were not bloody, their eyes closed as if in sleep. Hesitantly Demi went up to one to see the features of the head were odd.

The man’s skin was pale, his hair midnight black, and ears pointed. The bridge of the nose joined the forehead which was oval and wide. The jaw was beardless and curved giving the whole face an oval shape. His lips were full and the nose aquiline; Demi had never seen such features before.

A hand on her shoulder made her jump and try to flee but the hand that held her had more power than her. She was turned around to face a woman that only mildly resembled a human. Her features were much like that heads, though her skin was purple like she was bruised. Her eyes were yellow against black, and bright like a bird’s. She wore a cloak of black feathers, and a headdress of feathers with a bird skull.

“A lost spirit,” she said frowning at Demi. “An intruder in the Sleeping Leaves. Who are you spirit, you are not among the dead for I see life in you still.”

“I… My name is Demi rah Kartal,” she said at last. “I don’t know how I got here.”

“I am Clíodhna, Sing Shall She,” the woman answered. “How did you find this place?”

“I don’t know,” Demi answered in awe. She remembered now some of the things Slad had told her, stories of the Phay. This woman was one of them, as were the heads hanging in the tree. “What is this place?”

“The Tree of Sleeping Leaves,” Clíodhna answered. “My kin the Dullahan have fallen into a slumber when we entered Tir Aesclinn, none know why. We have kept their heads safe here while they slumber, but if they do not wake when we must march they will be left behind.”

Demi looked at the sleeping heads and reached for one, thinking she could try and wake them. Clíodhna hissed and grabbed her wrist stopping her.

“Do not touch them. For me and my kin touching them means falling into the same slumber. For a mortal soul such as yours it means the death of your spirit.”

Demi felt something odd stir at that, as part of her knew what Clíodhna said wasn’t true.

“Leave this place, it is not for the likes of you,” Clíodhna said. With that she gave Demi a shove and she felt herself fall back and wake.

For a moment her eyes swam with dull colors before her vision cleared itself. Demi stared up into a fresco of Empyria on the great dome above her, though not as she had just seen. It was a traditional painting of the sky and all the gods that lived there. Cael sat center of all, robed in blue with his wheel spinning at his back. Lun lounged on her crescent, pictured wearing virginal white. Sol was opposite his wife with his elder brother Cael nearby, his burning wheel at his back.

Tempest stood on storm clouds, the martial god was wielding both a hammer of thunder and a sword of lightning. Euria was close to her brother, the goddess of rain had a soft look as she let her waters bathe the earth with her generosity. Iris sprang from her sister’s water, a look of laughter across her face as she spread her colors across Empyria. The wind gods, Boreas, Auster, Notus, and Zephyrus blew the winds and clouds across Empyria at the four corners of the compass.

Eos rose on the eastern side of the mural, the gatekeeper of the day and goddess of beginnings looked serine. Eha her twin was opposite her to the west, the gatekeeper of the night and goddess of endings looked sorrowful.

Isra stood behind Eha, Empyria dark behind her and dusted with the stars of the angels and the wandering stars of the Demi Gods. Mercore the Traveler walked with a staff and a compass in his hands. Dione the Lover lounged naked in a seductive manor, her eyes inviting. Mavors the Warrior stood ready for battle in a fighting stance, wielding a spear and shield. Iovis the Hermit, stood empty handed with his palms outward in offering of knowledge and guidance. Saepit the Guardian stood with a shield alone to protect those he was steward over.

Among the stars flew the many angels to guard the Sacred River as souls traveled it to Empyria. There were eighty eight angels in all, and Demi knew them well.

Her vision swam again as liquid was dropped in her eyes, a dry cloth dabbing away the excess as it ran down her temple. Demi knew this was the only way to keep her eyes moist, she couldn’t even blink. Fingers gently took her chin and turned her head away from the fresco above her. Demi saw Alya Princess of Xin look at her with a sad smile.

“Good morning,” Alya said knowing Demi could not answer her. “Did you sleep well? I hope you didn’t toss and turn.”

Even if Demi could move she wouldn’t have tossed and turned, not on the downy feather mattress she now rested on. With her head turned to the side she could see the wondrous palace Akeem had built for her. She rested on a dais in the middle of a great domed room, elegant arches and pillars surrounding her. On the walls and pillars were inlay work and lattices of intricate beautiful detail.

Demi still remembered seeing it from the outside, a great onion dome topping a palace with delicate minarets and arches. Through the great doors she could see a reflecting pool, the greens of the gardens just beyond. They were still in the palace complex, inside Akeem’s harem. Akeem had this built, or more accurately modified an old building, to house Demi. She had no idea how long it had taken him, she had lost the concept of time imprisoned as she was.

Alya began undressing Demi from the fine silk kaftan she now wore, and began washing her. Demi felt nothing of her touch, but she could tell her limbs were now withered and twisted. Alya worked stretching her out, but the snake sand had stiffened her muscles and joints. When Alya finished washing her and changing her soiled diaper, she dressed her again. If she had any disgust she did not show it, and Demi knew Akeem had not asked her to do this task as there were thousands of servants who could. Alya seemed to do it because she cared, though Demi wasn’t sure if she just thought of Demi as a human doll.

When Alya had dressed her she started to do Demi’s henna over her hands and face, gossiping all the while. Demi listened, but Alya never went into important details like politics or the state of the kingdoms. All the same it was good to have company and hear another person’s voice. Alya did mention it was now the middle of Haler, just after Dione’s Day. The only useful thing Alya mentioned was the fact that the rains had not come this year, and there was little time left for them to come before the dry season.

Finished with the henna Alya went about laying fresh flowers around Demi. The flowers cheered her a little though she could hardly smell them or feel the silky touch of the petals. Alya turned Demi’s head the other way to look out through the other archway into the aviary that Akeem had built so she could look at birds and enjoy their songs.

“How is she?” Akeem asked, Demi unable to turn her head and look at him as he entered the great hall.

“The same brother,” Alya answered.

“Leave us,” Akeem said and Demi heard Alya stand and leave. Gently Akeem turned Demi’s head towards him. He looked older somehow, though she had seen him come here every day, he seemed older by each. “You are lovely today my dove,” he said softly brushing at her hair with his fingers. He continued to whisper meaningless endearments to her, kissing her hand and face. Demi had at first worried that Akeem would lose himself and take her while she was crippled, but he had so far abstained. She realized his feelings for her weren’t as shallow as she had thought.

She was grateful for his tenderness, but she wished he would treat her more like a person and not an object to be fetishized. He had forgotten she was still alive and awake or perhaps he didn’t even realize.

Akeem’s worship was interrupted by raised voices. Frowning Akeem turned to the arched entrance as a man shoved in past the guards. Demi realized it was Sect Samson, his face strained and pinched.

“Leave here Sect!” Akeem shouted. “This is holy ground, you dare defile it.”

“This isn’t holy ground and if it were I would have more right to walk it than you,” Samson said bitingly. “I came because we need to talk and it seems this is the only place I can find you other than moping in the baths.”

“Get out of here you disturb Demi’s peace,” Akeem said laying a protective arm over Demi. “I am king here not you Sect.”

“I am more king than you whelp!” Samson roared to Demi’s astonishment. “While you sit in your palace bemoaning your love the Pridesmen are at our doors! Have you not seen it Akeem? The gates are all closed; the Arc is lined with Pridesmen as their Panthra stalk the southern plains. We are besieged Akeem and since you and your brothers have done nothing other than seal the palace I have had to rally the battalions to hold the city. Your kingdom is crumbling around you Akeem, wake up!”

Demi had not realized how dire the situation had become, her heart cold in her chest.

“The Pridesmen cannot breach the walls,” Akeem said. “Evalon will never fall.”

“They hold the Arc now Akeem,” Samson said darkly. “We cannot get goods from the river anymore, even if we could transport goods, Zar Ne Zar holds all the farming settlements from here to the sea. The wandering tribes have all but disappeared, some flocked here, but most have withdrawn into their hidden corners. Any forces you might have mustered are now lost to you and we are outnumbered here.

“If you were to call on any aid from Regis you are sorely mistaken. There is a usurper of the Lirian throne called Feng Loe who has killed King Son. The High King now does battle with Lir to get his nephew on the throne there; he has no time for war here.”

“I know,” Akeem said. “Fadil let the High King call upon the Horse Lords, they ride for the north to cross the Spine Mountains.”

Demi guessed Fadil to be one of Akeem’s half-brothers, a eunuch so that he could not threaten Akeem’s rule. Fadil must have been the general of the battalions.

“Akeem!” Samson shouted. “How could you do this when you are in siege here in Evalon?”

“Fadil said that it would be far worse to ignore Arian’s call for arms,” Akeem said petulantly. “The High King could cut off trade if we were to abandon him.”

“The threat here is far more serious,” Samson said. “You are looking to a future that may not exist unless the danger of the present is not addressed right now.”

“What danger?” Akeem asked angrily. “The Pridesmen are little better than animals. They will howl at our walls and die on our spears, and when they begin to lose they will turn on each other and kill one another before the survivors all slink back to the Sía-Be Róza with their tails between their legs.”

“Fadil is a coward and a likes to get buggered up the ass,” Samson growled. “None of that is true Akeem; Zar Ne Zar will take Evalon if something is not done. Even if our stores could last the year, I do not think the city will. Zar Ne Zar attacks the walls with wanton blood lust, only two weeks of battle has seen hardened soldiers weeping. He does not need ballista or machines of war to take the city; he just needs rivers of blood.”

“I think my brother the general of my army knows more about this than you Sect,” Akeem hissed. “And who are you to criticize a man for his desires? I hear tell you should be the Sect of Dione and the Ocher Ladies more than a Sect of Sol.”

Samson eyed Akeem grimly before raising his hand and backhanding Akeem across the face. The blow rang through the temple and dome ceiling, the guards shouting as they ran into the temple. They grabbed Samson and started to drag him back when Akeem rose.

“Wait!” Akeem shouted and the guards stopped. He stood and approached them, Demi only able to see his back. “You miserable dog, have him whipped and thrown out into the streets. You can die on the walls if you like Sect; I will not morn your passing.”

“It will be an honor to die in the dirt among men who fight to protect the innocent,” Samson answered. “You will die here among your riches alone and empty weeping over a girl that never loved you.”

“Get him out of here!” Akeem screamed and Samson was dragged away. As soon as the guards were gone Akeem ran back to Demi to bury his face in her chest and weep brokenly. Demi couldn’t even raise a hand to comfort him, though what she really wanted to do was slap him. Her mother was out in the city, her people, nomads and city folk alike all faced the Pridesmen. She had never felt such fear, and such anger and frustration that there was nothing she could do for them.

Eventually Akeem’s weeping stopped and he left dejected. Alya returned to feed Demi watered porridge she poured down her throat. She whispered soothing words, sang songs, and told fantastical stories from Tales of the Lost. Demi drifted off to sleep, and once again she dreamed into the realms of colored mist.

She wandered the mist for a while, feeling better in the movement even though it was not the movement of her body. She saw things in the mist as she walked fountains of ice, worlds of water, waterfalls of liquid stone, and much more. The places she saw winked by through the shifting mist, often seen from above like she walked through the sky over other worlds. She never grew tired, hungry or thirsty, so Demi kept walking.

Through the paths she could see tracks of something that had moved through the aether, the mists duller in color in these places. In those places she saw the aether changed, doorways opened to the worlds hidden by the mist. Most were worlds of darkness, Demi shying away from looking too closely at those places. She hurried away from those paths with the prints of shadow and sought instead places of light.

Direction meant nothing in this place, up and down had no meaning but Demi felt as if there was always solid ground at her feet. She saw the mist stirring and almost clear as she looked up into a glowing golden cloud bright between three giant burning suns. She stared at the great golden aura high above, seeing shapes form out of the golden cloud. One moment it was a great castle with towering minarets and great domes, the next it was a mountain taller than dreams, and then it was a crumbling city in dunes of sand.

Demi felt drawn to the cloud as she stared at it and saw thousands of structures and natural structures form in the golden sand. Demi tried raising her foot and taking a step as if to climb a set of stairs and was surprised to find her foot met solid ground again. She climbed carefully, approaching the swirling cloud until she reached it. The sand shifted before her a moment and then formed a great arched entrance.

Demi entered the hall, a structure far beyond any construct of man. She walked upon a wide pathway, the edges disappearing into an endless abyss. Sun light from the three burning globes drifted into the hall in great beams of golden light, thousands of sparling embers of dust floating in the beams. The floor was warm and smooth, polished like burnished bronze. Demi walked along the hall towards the far end where a titanic figure sat on a golden cloud.

The god was easily twenty times bigger than an ordinary man, Demi would have been smaller than his pinky finger. His four arms were heavily muscled, his golden skin rippling over his brawny chest. Six bird like wings sprung from his back in various states, some open others closed in repose. A shifting golden cloth girdled with a golden chain circled his waist as he sat reclined on the golden cloud.

His features were achingly beautiful, but not at all human. His nose and mouth were flat and stretched across his skull, his ears pointed. His mane of golden hair shifted about as if he were in water, covering his brow and burning golden eyes. An inverted triangle of light hovered over his brow, too bright for Demi to look at.

Demi had no doubt he watched her as she approached, despite his bored expression as his head rested propped on one fist.

“Well another visitor,” he said at last. “At least better than the broken soul eater.”

“Greetings great God,” Demi said as she bowed, knelling down and prostrating until her forehead rested on the warm floor. Demi did not know who he was, he was not one of the Gods of Aeri, but any god deserved a deep form of respect.

“A God is that which is invoked,” the God answered sounding neither pleased nor angry. “I have no worshipers. I am a deity, a spirit of great power older than the stars.”

“I apologize for my error great one,” Demi said. “I am Demi rah Kartal. What may I call you?”

“I go by many names: the Golden One, He that Slept Late, Whispers of Sand, Lord of Time, but you may call me Sandman.”

“I am honored to be in the presence of a deity though I do not know how I found my way here,” Demi said. “I am lost.”

“Lost?” the Sandman said interested. “Come closer little one.”

Demi rose and with her head down she approached the deity. She raised her face to him and it was much like looking up into the sun. She closed her eyes as his light brightened and looked at her, Demi feeling the dry touch of a feather brush her forehead. She smelled home in him, the dry scent of desert sands in his wings. She opened her eyes as he withdrew a pensive look on his face.

“Why did you take the form of a mortal?” the Sandman asked and Demi blinked surprised. “You do not know what I mean.”

“No great Sandman I do not, I apologize,” Demi said. “I am a mortal born to a mortal and sired by a mortal.”

“That does not matter,” the Sandman said. “The size of a spirit determines its length of existence. Mortal spirits are small, they do not last long in time though they can pass through the aether and return to the physical realms a few times before their spirit burns out. There are some with larger spirits, these born of other places or like one people born of a divinity that divided itself into many. These people are called Phay after the deity that birthed them.”

“The Phay,” Demi gasped. “You know of the Phay?”

“They are divine in their own rights,” the Sandman said nodding. “They were once a deity and I find it interesting what they have become.”

“What of the March?” Demi asked. “Do you know of the March?”

“I pay little attention to the movements of the Phay,” the Sandman said with a disdainful wave of his hand. “Though they are interesting they are lesser now than what they once were. I still do not understand Phay’s choice in dividing itself. Deities are the oldest of all for we have freed our spirits of time. Our spirits are the largest and we live on past the burdens of endings.”

“I do not understand,” Demi said.

“You do not for you have taken on a mortal form,” the Sandman said. “I don’t know how or why you have chosen this, or who you are. There are many like me, and I do not know them all.”

“What must I do?” Demi asked.

“Do? Return to where you came from,” the Sandman answered with a shrug. “You chose a mortal life for a reason, so go back.”

“My body has become crippled in life,” Demi answered, feeling tears rise. “I cannot even blink my own eyes.”

The Sandman sat silent as she began to cry, wiping her eyes on her hands and hiccupping as she sobbed. Eventually she calmed and the Sandman spoke.

“I cannot help you,” he said simply. “Go, I have other matters to deal with.”

“What matters?” Demi asked looking up at him to see he was displeased. “Perhaps I can help.”

“I said I cannot help you child,” the Sandman growled, the sand rumbling with his voice. “Do not seek my favor by offering aid.”

“I do not,” Demi said. “If I cannot help myself then I will help another.”

“You cannot even help yourself what makes you can even help me?” the Sandman asked.

“I will not know unless I try,” Demi answered.

The Sandman stared at her pensively, the triangle on his forehead pulsing.

“A creature has been wandering the aether or worlds,” the Sandman said at last. “It is a nightmare, a dark spirit, a soul eater. It is the Crippled One. I caught it lurking around my palace and it tried to lie its way to freedom. I underestimated it; it managed to learn my true name and escape. Though its power is lesser than my own this creature can command some of my power now knowing my true name. The only way to balance the scales is to learn its true name. Learn the true name of the Crippled One and deliver it to me and you will aid me greatly.”

Demi felt a glow of pride that he had confided in her and given her a task. She knelt before him again pressing her forehead into the floor.

“I will great Sandman and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your trust in me,” Demi said and rose to see the Sandman looking down at her with a look of interest. “I will go now on this quest to seek out the name of the Crippled One.”

He simply nodded and Demi felt the palace crumble around her in a flurry of golden light and she woke once again in her crippled body. She lay staring up at the fresco of the gods thinking. She had just met a god, a deity, she corrected herself. And he had given her a task, a holy quest even greater than her last. She somehow felt however they were tied together, the March of the Phay and the true name of the Crippled One. She knew the workings and stories of the gods; everything was often linked in the world in one way or another.

So now her quest was more complicated, and more important. She looked up at the gods above and wondered what they were planning, or how they knew the Sandman. The Sandman must be an outsider, a creature like the gods but he had no worshipers as he said. He must be lonely. Demi looked up at the Gods of Aeri wishing she could offer prayers to them for the Sandman, but she could not move her hands.

She breathed in through her nose and smelled the cool smell of night. The temple was well lit with thousands of candles, lamps, and torches, braziers burning to keep away the chill of Isra’s arms. Incense of sandalwood lingered in the air along with the smell of jasmine and cinnamon. Demi was alone, though she could not turn her head to see she sensed there was no one in the temple with her. There were probably guards at the doors, and hundreds more through the gardens of the harem, palace, and walls.

So Demi tried again to reach out into Empyria, to begin her quest for the Sandman and the Phay, but she could not reach it. Her mind was too alert and awake to drift off as it had before. Demi wondered how long she had been wandering, how long it had been since she had overheard Samson and the King speaking. It had felt like only hours, or weeks, she couldn’t tell. She breathed in as deep as she could, trying to smell the season from the air. It was dry still, the rains had not come. It was cold from the night, but not nearly as it should be in Haler. Demi guessed more time had passed.

She was still musing over this when she heard a man gurgle and choke, the sound of a body dropping to the ground outside. There was a muffled shout and a scuffle, and then the sound of another body dropping. Demi felt her breath come short, her heart pound, as footsteps sounded coming towards her. The person walked with steady silence; on the slight patter of skin against stone sounding as their bare feet tread on the stone floor.

Demi felt someone pause next to her, a shadow falling over her. She smelled blood, coppery and fresh, as well as a darker musk she had smelled before. He leaned over her and Demi looked up into the handsome face of Zar Ne Zar. He grinned, his pointed teeth menacing in his mouth and a smear of blood on his cheek. The ruby on his forehead glowed ominously in the torchlight, his bright golden eyes sharp. He was as handsome as ever, a scar through his eyebrow only adding to his looks. His hair was still cut to resemble a mane, and died golden brown.

“Found you at last little bird,” Zar Ne Zar said lowly. “You thought you escaped me but that is not so.”

Demi could only breath heavier in fear, she could not answer. Though Zar must have seen the question in her eyes for he chuckled.

“You are wondering why I am here?” Zar asked. “After all in this state you cannot lead me to the Ró-Hre or the Ró-Ky. I no longer need you for that little bird. I have heard tales of you, how you bragged about escaping me. But I am not here to just save face from those who mock me for letting you out of my grasp. I am here because you will be my token to the throne of Xin. That little brat of a King will trade his kingdom for your life, and I shall sit on the throne of the greatest kingdom of the Nine.”

Demi tried to cry out, but all that she managed was a strangled squeak in her throat. Zar Ne Zar laughed and stroked her cheek.

“Do not worry little bird, I will let you see the face of your lover before I kill you,” he said softly. “Though I do not guarantee it will still be on his head. Now come, the night is young and Isra has long been my whore.”

Demi felt her gore rise as Zar Ne Zar scooped her up with ease, cradling her like a babe. He walked out into the night, Demi seeing two guards lying in pools of blood. Stalking around in the garden clearing was his Panthra. Zar Ne Zar walked up to the beast and stopped before it, the giant lion growling as it sniffed at Demi.

“Easy Dakarai,” Zar Ne Zar said to the Panthra. “I have not introduced you little bird to my Panthra. Dakarai is the greatest of the Panthra, when he was born he had already eaten all his brothers in the womb, and killed his mother coming into this world. He is a warrior of great purpose.”

The male Panthra bared his teeth and growled, Demi feeling the desire to shiver in fear, but was unable to move. Zar Ne Zar mounted up onto the Panthra with her still in his arms, leaping up gracefully. He had no saddle, and settled her before him nestled in Dakarai’s mane. With a kick of his heels the Panthra leapt away, running through the jungles of the garden. Demi couldn’t see much in the dark as they ran through the foliage, but she could tell they traveled swiftly.

It wasn’t long until they had reached one of the garden walls, Dakarai leaping over the wall with a cat’s ease. The other side was more gardens and more of the palace buildings, Dakarai running through these as well. Then they approached the outer wall, torches and guards lining the wall. The guards shouted and Demi heard bows drawn and fired. Zar Ne Zar laughed and Demi saw him snatch an arrow out of the air with his bare hand. He reversed the arrow and threw it back, Demi hearing a man scream as the arrow found its mark.

Dakarai reached the wall in heartbeats and scrambled up the taller expanse in three mighty leaps. Guards shouted and screamed as Dakarai attacked, Zar Ne Zar howling. He drew out his spear from the bandolier across his back and began stabbing out with it. Demi saw a guard charging forward with a sword for Dakarai’s flank. Zar Ne Zar leapt from the Panthra’s back with gymnast grace and landed in the man’s path. He lashed out with his spear in a quick jab, catching the man in the throat before he could even shout.

Now Zar Ne Zar was among the men he fought with vicious speed and ferocious energy, in moments the guards lay dead from either his spear or Dakarai’s fangs. More were coming, whistles and horns of alarm blaring in the night. Zar Ne Zar howled one last time, Dakarai joining him before Zar leapt back onto the Panthra’s back. They leapt from the wall into the waiting arms of the lake below.

Demi gasped as the cold water closed over them and they surfaced, Dakarai paddling water powerfully with his six great legs. Arrows followed them, but once again Zar Ne Zar batted them away until they were out of range. For a little while they swam unchallenged until they reached the middle of the lake where three skiffs full of guards plied their way towards them. Two closed in from the left and one from the right, the men rowing with all their might to catch up with Dakarai.

Zar Ne Zar stood up on Dakarai’s back as arrows began to fly, batting them away each time. The forefront skiff caught up with them, but Zar Ne Zar leapt aboard before anything could be done. There were screams and shouts as Zar Ne Zar did battle, but as he fought the skiff on the left caught up. Dakarai turned and lashed out at the vessel, using his weight to capsize it.

As the Pathra rose out of the water Demi felt herself slip from his back and slide off into the water. The shouts and screams were silenced as the water closed over her head. Demi held her breath, but she could not even close her eyes as she sank into the water. She saw someone, maybe Zar Ne Zar, try and swim after her, but she was sinking like a rock and was quickly beyond their reach.

Demi felt her lungs burning, so this was how she was going to die. Before she could despair she felt a familiar sensation around her. Little hands took hold of her clothes, a current of water pulling her away through the lake. It was like when the sandstorm had claimed her and the winds had carried her, only now it was the water. Demi held her breath harder, only letting a few bubbles pass to hold out.

Her strength was failing her, her lungs burned, and at last she took a breath only to inhale water. It burned down her throat and lungs, Demi coughed but only took more in. She felt her chest giving way, filling with water with each strangled attempt to clear it, when suddenly it was no longer water she was breathing. Demi coughed and vomited the water she had taken in up, lying on her side as she coughed and sputtered.

She must have passed out because she woke lying on her side, breathing steadily now. She looked around, but only saw a wet stone ground and wall before her, unable to move. Then she felt little hands over her again, lifting her up and moving her. Demi couldn’t see them, but she felt them lift her and carry her down a wet tunnel, Demi seeing the pool where she must have come from.

The little hands carried her down the tunnel into darkness, Demi only hearing the dripping of water. They carried her through the tunnel, over some rises, and along a few twisted pathways until at last they lay her out on a ledge. Demi could see nothing but felt this place was a vast cavern and that she rested on a ledge that looked out over a cliff into the wide cavern. The little hands left her and Demi was alone, trapped still in her own body.

It took her a while to realize something about the place was strange, and when she realized she felt awe. The air moved, not in the singular direction of wind through a cave, but in a steady beat like breathing. The breath moved at deep intervals, and Demi struggled to match her breathing with that of the cavern. She felt peace settle over her, the pain of her limbs settling as she breathed in and out. Demi almost sank into the stone under her, feeling every tight muscle in her body relax.

She did not linger on how this could be, she simply let go of all thought and breathed. Time had no meaning anymore, but her spirit did not wander like it had before. She became one with the breathing of the cave.

:So I am not alone: The sound was not sound and at the same time it was. It was the very vibration of the air, reverberating directly in her skull with its own meaning. Demi could tell the voice had not spoken in any language, it had simply willed its meaning into her.

:?: She tried the same but had only managed a generalize query to the air.

:You have much to learn young one: the voice answered. :Form the words in your mind and I will know.:

:Are you like me?: Demi asked, the thoughts jumbled in her head as she thought of what the voice had said and the Sandman’s words that she was a deity.

:More than you could know. Once I was a deity, as you were once a deity. A lion’s share of my spirit ended up in this form along with many memories. Yet with this change in me I was able to enter this world and create my people, and led the others that had been born of my division. I am Kur, She Brings Forth:

:Demi rah Kartal:

:You are greatly diminished Young One, as am I. It is sad, to see a deity so young diminished so:

:?: Demi had many questions to that that flooded her mind so only managed the query thought again.

:I call you Young One because I can tell you are a newly born deity. From where you were born or why you are here I do not know since you have forgotten your true name. I can however tell you my tale, and how I have come to be here.

:I was once King of the Dragons, the first race of the Phay born of my previous incarnation of a deity. I guided the Phay to this world Miread, I was the first to arrive. I dreamed the race of dragons, They Burn Within, out of the bones of the earth using the fiery heart to give them life. There are many stories I could tell you of my children and the other races of Phay, but I will tell you of my downfall instead.

:Deities are many and soon another followed us here to Miread. The deities should not come to the physical realm in their true forms for it causes imbalance and strain upon the world. Coatltlahtoani did not care. The Serpent King came in his true form, and I felt his coming through my bones of earth. His coming caused me great pain as I was tied so strongly to Miread. So I came and did battle with him so that he might leave this world and not consume it like others he had so taken.:

As the tale was told Demi saw it, the legendary battle between the Serpent King and Kur the propagator of dragons. She saw the birth of the Sía-Be Róza from their battle, the great desert formed by the fires of Kur and the blood of her enemy. At last the two fell, Kur making the great Spine Mountains and the Serpent King the Ró-Ky.

:His spirit died but much damage had been done, his body became death to all by turning them to stone in one last curse. As I fell however his last blow had claimed my head, separating my mind from my body and crippling me much like his curse has crippled you. I lay in the sands and wept, and I still weep for I am so alone.:

Demi sent out her own feelings of pain and empathy, feeling Kur respond in kind. They sat in silence morning their own crippled states. Demi knew Kur’s tears now were the source of the Ark and told her so. She also realized this cavern at the bottom of the lake was Kur’s skull

:I am glad then that I was able to undo some of his damage and bring life back to the wastes.:

:Thank you: Demi said to her. :Do you know what brought me here? There were little hands:

:The Wild Kin brought you here: Kur said. Demi felt knowledge fill her from Kur, about the spirits of the elements.

:Why can I not see them if I have power?:

:You have chosen a mortal life. If I am to guess I would say you sealed away your true name and renamed yourself to that of an ordinary mortal with no powers. Yet some like myself and the Wild Kin can sense what you are. The Wild Kin sought to aid you, why that is I do not know:

:Others have not: Demi said and thought of Slad and Clíodhna.

:They were not looking: Kur answered. :I am surprised they had not noticed the thread upon you as well:

:?:

:One of the Phay has tied her spirit to yours to affect your luck and guide you. Telling by the thread and power I would guess it is one of Enfys’ children. You will have to ask her why she did this however:

Demi thought then of how her spirit had managed to leave her body.

:Can you not leave your body?:

:I have tied myself to Miread too strongly unlike the other Phay: Kur answered. :I cannot walk the aether anymore.:

:Do you know of what has happened to them?:

:No, tell me:

Demi told her, she let Kur see into all her memories and what she had learned. She let all her questions flow into Kur. Who was the Crippled One? How were the Phay to March? What could she do to help? She finished with the most important question.

:What will you do?: Demi asked when she finished and Kur was silent.

:I can do nothing: Kur answered at last. :But you can:

:?:

:I will heal your body, then it becomes your task to do what you can to guide the Phay in their march and find the Crippled One’s true name:

:But what about you?: Demi asked.

:I will remain here, if I were to be healed and returned to my old state the wastes would dry up and the mountains you described would be uprooted. The world has changed so much I no longer fit within it:

:But you do not have to be alone: Demi said. :I’ll come back and I’ll bring your kin to see you. I’ll tell you stories and show you what I can of the world:

Kur was silent for a long time before she answered.

:I would like that very much Young One:

Demi felt how much it would mean to her, and Demi understood her pain more than anything.

:Now let us begin remaking you: Kur said. :I may not be able to walk the lines but I can still dream:

Demi felt herself drift off to sleep then unable to resist the sudden heavy feeling over her mind. She dreamed confused dreams unlike any she ever had before. They were dreams of fire and earth, water and wind, of stars burning with suns, and births and deaths of worlds themselves. These were dreams of gods, of the deities of the higher spheres like the Sandman and Phay. This was what Demi had once been.

Demi woke; unable to tell how much time had passed if it had passed at all. She sat up instinctively before she realized she could. She sat in awe as she raised her hands to her face. Her face felt unchanged from when she had been healthy, her limbs once more their strong frame of youth. She was no longer shriveled and broken.

Laughing Demi leapt to her feet and felt the strength of her body once more. She jumped around and danced, feeling lighter and stronger than she ever had even before she had been stabbed.

:I restored your strength and granted your power of your own to see your task through:

“Power?” Demi asked aloud since she could. Her voice was restored as well, ringing truer and clearer than before.

:Look and see:

Demi realized that though there was no light she could somehow see in the darkness. Demi looked to the ground and saw a huddle of little creatures. They were human in shape, though their limbs were deformed and their bodies potbellied. They had pointed ears and big liquid brown eyes. None was shaped exactly like another and despite their strange appearance Demi found them rather adorable.

:Those are gnomes, spirits of earth. They had brought you here:

Demi went to them and touched each one on the top of their tiny heads.

“Thank you,” Demi said and they smiled up at her.

:They and the undines can guide you out of this place: Kur said.

“Wait, can you not teach me of this new power?” Demi asked.

:I restored you to health, but you are still in a mortal body that has needs of food and water. The water here is fresh to drink but there is no food here for you. You must learn to control and command this power on your own. Know this however, you only have to ask of the Wild Kin and they will obey your will and commands:

Demi looked at her hand feeling both powerful and afraid at the same time. Her quest had been to seek out answers, to find answers and solutions to the problems ahead. She had found Kur, but no solutions. Now she was being told to go and face those problems on her own, to save the world.

:Your task is not known: Kur said sensing her thoughts. :The Phay will march with the aid of the song, and only Eileen can play it. Other forces are in motion and acting as we speak. I cannot guide you, nor aid you more than I have. I have given you the power to take on what must be done; it is now up to you to act:

Her words were daunting yet somehow Demi felt more confident. Kur had given her power, and though Demi still did not know what she must do she felt she could do almost anything.

“Thank you Kur,” Demi said looking up into the vast cavern of Kur’s skull. “I will return with your kin, and swear to you now I will find a way to restore you to the world once more.”

:Oaths are serious matters in the power of the Elder Magic Young One: Kur warned.

“I do not make it lightly Kur,” Demi said. “I will heal you as you have healed me.”

Kur was silent for a while before she spoke again.

:Then I thank you Young One: Kur said. :Fair winds and sweet water upon the long road you must take:

“Sweet dreams and fond memories to you Kur,” Demi said as she knelt and pressed her forehead to the stone floor.

She stood and followed the gnomes out of the dome of Kur’s skull and through the twisted passages of her nasal cavity. The gnomes lead her back to the pool of water where Demi saw what Kur had called undines.

They were salamander like creatures with blue and black skin. They too were human shaped but each one different from the last. They had big blue eyes without pupils or whites, and swam with liquid ease. Demi bowed to the gnomes before she joined the undines in the water. She paddled a moment before the undines surrounded her. Demi took a deep breath and they pulled her under.

She didn’t have to swim as the undines towed her along swiftly through the water. They moved her faster than she could ever swim. Though the lake was deep they had her to the surface in moments and Demi gasped for air gratefully. She was in the middle of the lake, unable to see anything past the water around her. It was dawn though, and Demi cast a quick prayer to the Goddess of the dawn in thanks for her new beginning.

The undines pulled her along through the water swiftly, Demi practically flying through the water. They brought her to a dock and Demi clamored out of the water. Looking around she saw no one, the walls of this part of the palace were empty. She looked back to the water and thanked the undine. The water spirits laughed and grinned at her before they disappeared, leaving the water to ripple a moment before it calmed.

Demi looked down at the water and was met with her own reflection, feeling her jaw drop in shock. She still had the appearance of a child, her fine kaftan dripping wet from her trek in the lake. Her features were the same as well, hooded almond eyes, small nose, round face, and wide forehead. Her hair had grown to her waist in long luxurious black curls, her skin a fine burnished brown. Nothing had changed yet everything of her seemed richer and more alluring, like life had seeped into her more.

Demi realized there was now a glow even about her head, a light like the halo of a goddess. She reached up but felt nothing as her fingers passed through the halo, the cloud untouched by her hand. She looked down into her reflection and saw a saint.

A bird call made her look up and Demi saw a familiar shape circling above. Overjoyed Demi held out her arm and called out to the palm nut vulture. Vega banked and flew down to alight on her arm, the vulture clicking her beak in joy. Demi scratched her under the beak and Vega closed her eyes in bliss.

“Come Vega, we have work to do,” Demi said and the vulture gave a cry of agreement.

#fantasy #series #writting #please read #fairies #dragons

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