The darkness folded in around him as he walked into the caves gaping maw. The would be Knight had spent years waiting for this day, and he was afraid. This wasn't fear of death. He had seen death coming for himself and others so many times that death had become one of those old acquaintances who you would rather not have over, but you just can't begrudge them a visit. What he dreaded was failure, the old nagging thought of what if the young oracles had been wrong, what if he just died with nothing achieved, or perhaps worse; what if he searched the cave, and nothing happened. He had been so close to finding her so many times, the knight didn't think he could take another failure.
Two decades ago he had seen the young oracles towards the end of his thirty-second spring. He had sat quietly eating his dinner when he noticed three little girls staring at him from across the room. Their piercing eyes skewering him, the eldest with ruby hair and ashen grey eyes; the middle with yellow hair and sapphire eyes; the youngest with raven hair and emerald eyes. They walked over to him and told him of how lost he had felt. They knew of the hole in himself that could never be filled; the pull he would feel first one way, then another. Before he could get where the pull was dragging him, it would quickly move somewhere else far away. They told him that the pull was towards the woman he loved even though they had never met. He had the rare gift of the Unicorn Knight. At birth the fates had connected his soul to that of a baby girl who he would have been drawn to until he found her. When he did, their bond would be complete and they would live the rest of their lives complete as long as they both lived. At the moment of their meeting a Unicorn Knight and his lady both become immortals if they are not already. His story, however, would not go the normal route.
His Lady was captured by an unbelievably cruel demon. They told him that he was the only one who could save her. They told him when, where, how, and what the price would be. She would be free, and his quest seeking her would finally come to a close.
Now, twenty years later, the time had finally come. Now he was finally at the place. Now she would finally be free, and now he would finally be at his journeys end. He remembered the instructions he had received so many years ago. He removed his helmet and armor, both dented with years of use. Neither would protect him from what he needed to face. They could only get in the way. He put down his axe and his dagger. Neither would help him win this victory. They could only bring harm to his goal.
He walked head high towards his Fortune, his Destiny, and his Doom.
The demon who awaited the unfortunate Unicorn Knight to be was a crafty creature. For over half a century she had plagued mankind from the shadows and while hiding in plain sight. She had many forms, many faces, and many wiles with which she would spread pain, hate, sorrow, lust, or whatever other dark emotions she could inspire and then feed upon. This man had kept appearing as if drawn to her like a lodestone, she kept leaving whenever he appeared because something about him felt distinctly wrong to her. She knew to trust her instincts, and they told her that this man was dangerous to her. Years of running from a mere mortal, however, wears on ones pride, something she had in spades. This time she would ensure that he would never follow her again.
He appeared to be unarmed and unarmored, but she took no chances that he might have a hidden weapon he might draw if she hesitated. She rushed straight forward and buried her dagger in his chest. She gazed into his eyes hoping to see the despair of oncoming death filling them, and an explosion went off in her heart. Her stomach felt as if she had suddenly fallen a thousand feet. She felt a bond, a oneness with this man unlike anything she had ever felt before. She knew him to the marrow of his bones and depths of his heart, and she could feel that in that moment, he knew her. He knew all her darkness, evil, cruelty, and malice; but he saw deeper into her drive, passion, inner strength, intelligence, all her merits, and all she could be if given an opportunity to feel real altruistic love. He loved her for what he saw deep within her, and she felt love for what she saw in him. They shared this one perfect moment and he died. He had saved her and he had set her free.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Oath of the Guardians
Death to the betrayers,
An end to their dark sin.
The pain and woe they brought on us
Shall never be again.
In innocence we trusted
In that which seemed so pure.
Their lies so bright and beautifull
Of their truth we were so sure.
But now the mask has fallen.
We see what lies beneath.
The pain of all their thousand crimes
We now on them bequeath.
An end to their dark sin.
The pain and woe they brought on us
Shall never be again.
In innocence we trusted
In that which seemed so pure.
Their lies so bright and beautifull
Of their truth we were so sure.
But now the mask has fallen.
We see what lies beneath.
The pain of all their thousand crimes
We now on them bequeath.
Blessed Curse
You are my darkness and my Light
You bring me to death then back to life
You're my misstress and my wife
For you are
My blessed curse
You bring me joy you bring me strife
You're my flame burning in ice
You're my pain and yet the knife
For you are
Yes you are
My blessed curse
You're every thing that I hold dear
You know how to frustrate me
Just one look from your eyes
Can build or neatly break me
It's not fair to put my life and fate
Compleatly in your hands
This responsibility has many
Hard to meet demands
When you are my everything
You're my good and you're my bad
Not just what I have right now
But all I've ever had
I may woo you in the moonlight
And treat you oh so sweetly
You at first may even pride yourself
On pocketing me so neatly
Before you know you may decide
That I'm overly needy
And after that you may decide
That I'm overtly creepy
You may run and you may hide
But I'm allways by your side
If you need me I'll be there
You'll know you have someone who cares
For the point to all this round about
Reverse the end of the first verse
It is not merely you for I'm
Forevermore your blessed curse
You bring me to death then back to life
You're my misstress and my wife
For you are
My blessed curse
You bring me joy you bring me strife
You're my flame burning in ice
You're my pain and yet the knife
For you are
Yes you are
My blessed curse
You're every thing that I hold dear
You know how to frustrate me
Just one look from your eyes
Can build or neatly break me
It's not fair to put my life and fate
Compleatly in your hands
This responsibility has many
Hard to meet demands
When you are my everything
You're my good and you're my bad
Not just what I have right now
But all I've ever had
I may woo you in the moonlight
And treat you oh so sweetly
You at first may even pride yourself
On pocketing me so neatly
Before you know you may decide
That I'm overly needy
And after that you may decide
That I'm overtly creepy
You may run and you may hide
But I'm allways by your side
If you need me I'll be there
You'll know you have someone who cares
For the point to all this round about
Reverse the end of the first verse
It is not merely you for I'm
Forevermore your blessed curse
The Other Side of Dream
Harry Whittaker had hurt so much for so long. The pain was gone now, though. He stood up easily, no one helped him and he needed no crutches or walker. He stood firmly and strongly on his own feet. He moved his arms gently at first, extending them and gently rolling his shoulders, at any moment expecting his joints to painfully resist. Then he began to swing them, and still there was no pain. His shoulders rotated smoothly, with no roughness or grating to the joint. He gently lifted one leg, then another. They came up easily. He went down into a deep side lunge, going deeper than he had since he was in his twenties. There was a little pain with the stretch, but it was just the feeling of going into a deep stretch without warming up properly. His arms and legs were no longer flabby and atrophied; they were solid and well muscled again. His gut and chest were no longer drooping and wrinkled, they were firm and taut.
He looked around himself, he was in a small grassy clearing of a forest. He breathed deep the damp earthy scent that surrounded him, with a bit of spice he could not quite place. Lances of golden sunlight pierced the tree tops that arced over him and glittering insects flashed between them. It was so familiar, but also all so strange. He could hear the soothing sounds of running water; and the calls of birds, frogs, crickets, and cicadas.
He walked towards the sound of water. With each step he felt the rich loamy earth and soft undergrowth under his toes and feet. After a few dozen paces he came to a depression in the earth that a stream flowed through one side of, but on this side it was a nearly still pool. He looked down into the water, and more than the colorful fish flitting below the surface, what surprised him was his own reflection. It wouldn’t be right to say he looked young, but it wouldn’t be right to say he looked old either. He didn’t look middle aged though. Any given age you tried to put his face too would seem off, sometimes in both directions at once. The surprise wasn’t from not recognizing his face either. It seemed that all through his life this was the face he should have seen and that the other face, ever changing as he grew up and then old, that he was used to seeing was just showing a distortion of it.
“This has to be a dream,” He spoke aloud, “Even in my dreams though I’ve felt my pains and aches for so long. I‘m not sure I ever want to wake up again. I could be happy just staying here, I think.”
“This is a dream, yes,” A breathy woman’s voice replied behind him, “But it is not your dream, and thus you do not appear just as you see yourself, but as you truly are. The pain you carried with you into your own dreams before was a remnant of how you perceive yourself and your life. You can not just stay here though, you have a journey to go on.”
“Who are you?” He asked, turning to see the speaker. She was a beautiful woman, about half a head shorter than Harry. Her hair was midnight black, and her skin was paper white. It wasn’t just pale. It wasn’t just not tan. Her skin was completely and totally white. There was no hint of blush, a tan, or even a freckle. Her skin was not a human coloration. Her face also defied any attempt to place an age to her. She was not young. She was not old. She just was.
“I’m your guide, I make sure you can find your destination.”
“So I’m dreaming you?”
“No. We are both in the land of dreams, but this is not your dream. This is not my dream. This is not any one persons dream. You are not dreaming me any more than I am dreaming you. Actually, unlike when you are in a dream that is your own you are not even dreaming yourself, thus why you are showing your true body instead of your interpretation of your factual body.” The woman in front of him ran her fingers through her hair to pull it out of her eyes, and then the woman was a cat cleaning her fur.
“Wait a second, you were a human just a moment ago, now you’re a cat! Or at least I thought you were, wait a minute you still are. Why did I think I saw a cat?”
“I am neither a human nor a cat and I am both and more. I am who and what I am just as you are who and what you are. I did not change, only the perspective of how you saw me changed. In the waking world it is facts you see most easily and you must look through them to find truth. In the world of dream truth is plain to see and you must look through it to find fact.” As he stopped trying to decide if she was a woman or a cat and just relaxed he was not sure if he saw a woman, a cat, some hybrid cat girl, or the hints of other things he felt opening up behind the other images. It was too much to take in at once, he held the image of her as he first saw her firmly in his mind and that was all he saw.
“You seem to learn quickly both to see what is and to control what you see,” she laughed, “It helps at first to see only part of what something or someone is. It is almost impossible to see anyone in their full truth at once, but as you grow more accustomed to seeing it will be less disorienting to view more of the truth of what you see. As you learn it is good to choose to see a partial image so that it is easier to process, but forgetting that what you are seeing is only part of the truth is dangerous. So, see only one or two aspects of someone or something if you must, but try to glimpse the other aspects when you can. When you first looked at the place we are sitting, what did you first see?”
“The pool of course!” Harry replied, but as he turned to gesture he was not sitting on the ground by a pool with little colorful fish in a forest. He was sitting in a chair in an empty hallway in a courthouse by a shiny metal water fountain where he could see his reflection. The fish were red, blue, yellow, and pink wads of chewing gum that had been left in the fountain. He and the woman who was his guide were wearing black business suits. Until that moment he had not realized that neither of them had been wearing anything a moment before.
“There are many different aspects to the truth of this place as well. It can take on many appearances to you. There are some facts you will glean from observing it’s many truths. One is that it is not an unpleasant place; it is reasonably comfortable, it is relatively safe, and it has what you need for now. Another is that it is a good place to gather yourself for the next step. One more fact shown by the truths of this place is that it is a good place to meet someone. There are also the facts that it is not far from danger, and that it will likely become unpleasant if you stay too long. It is a good place to rest, meet me, ask questions, and then move on from to your destination.”
“What is my destination and why do I have to go there?
“You already know both of those answers, the inability to see them just means you are not yet ready to accept them. Luckily, since you have a guide, you do not need to know the destination or reason. You just have to go.” She smiled her catlike grin. Looking again, she was a cat grinning in a manner that was almost human. Looking again in the same way at his surroundings; it was a forest, it was a courthouse, it was a pool, it was a water fountain, and it was also a city park at sunset. It was more places. Some were easier to see than others. Some he liked seeing less than others. Many of the ones he liked the least were the ones that showed him most clearly that he would need to leave soon and the path he should follow.
“If you don’t have any more questions that cannot be asked while we travel,” she gently suggested, “It would be best if we left. You can stay a little while longer, but the quicker we get on our way the better it will be for you.”
“Well, I suppose since it is a dream I will wake up eventually and I guess I would like to see where I was going before that happens,” He nodded his head as he decided, “Let’s go.”
As they walked he chose to primarily keep the aspect of the truth of his surroundings that was a forest in his mind. He liked it best. He couldn’t see his path as clearly as with many of the others, and maybe that was part of its charm. All of the aspects grew darker as they went though. The forest literally grew darker and there were occasional thorns on the trees he passed and on the ground he walked over. In the courthouse they had moved into the courtroom and the prosecution was presenting its case against him. He had left the park and was now walking through a bad neighborhood of a large city.
In every facet of his journey he could see, his guide helped him and supported him on his journey. She gave him a machete and helped him hack through the jungle they were traversing. She helped argue in his defense regarding every crime he was accused of. She helped him search for an ostrich feather large enough it would outweigh his heart. Together they poured through an ancient tome to find his name. She used a pole to push their boat to the far side of the river.
There were times when it was hard or frightening. They were chased by a pack of dogs. They delved caves into the darkest depths of the earth. They scaled a mountain that stretched to the stars. They climbed a tree that held the entire world in which he had lived in one of its branches, and he wasn’t even sure whether they were climbing up or down. They flew past stars, then out of time and space.
Through it all his guide stayed with him. She encouraged him when he could do it on his own. She made sure he had what help he needed when he fell a little short. She helped him back up when he fell. Whenever he doubted he could continue she was there with a smile and he had the strength to go a bit further. After a few hours, perhaps days, perhaps years, perhaps eons, perhaps seconds; they were finally there.
“Do you know where you are now?” She asked carefully. For some this was the hardest part of the journey and could take the longest. She had grown to know him well in their sojourn, and did not wish him pain.
“I think I do.” He responded softly, different truths of what he was seeing flashing through his minds eye. He had learned much on this journey, not the least of which was how much he had yet to learn. Seeing himself in his true form that was an eagle, he preened his feathers thoughtfully before continuing, once again seeing the truth of himself as a man. “I have passed from the waking world into the land of dream. I have now passed through the land of dream and stand at the gateway to the land on the other side of dream. We began where the waking world borders on the world of dream, we now are where the world of dream borders on the world of the dead.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. She had grown to know how well he could see and how insightful he could be about the facts and the truths he saw represented, but even those with the keenest sight and minds could not see what they were not willing to believe. “I know this next question may sound silly after the answer you just gave, but I must make certain that you understand fully. Why did you have to come here?”
“I died.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I lived a good life.”
“What does that mean, to live a good life?”
“I don’t really know, but I think I did it.” He chuckled dryly, then looked worried, “If I go there, will I be able to come back here? It wasn’t always pleasant, but I liked it. I liked being with you.”
“Not everyone who goes through ever comes back here, but many do. I don’t know if those who don’t can’t or have reasons for not coming. Just as seeing dream for what it is has allowed you to open your eyes and grow if you let yourself, seeing death for what it is may allow you to open your eyes even further and grow even more if you allow it. Those who come back can only tell us about what they saw as much as you could tell someone in the waking world about what you have seen here. You could get across basic ideas, but it would be incomplete and surreal. The world of dreams; however, links all existences I know of. Perhaps there are worlds on the other side of death. Perhaps there are worlds on the other side of any of the other worlds dream runs to. I don’t know.”
“I know I didn’t actually state the second part of that question as such, but I think you saw it. Will I be able to see you again?”
He looked around himself, he was in a small grassy clearing of a forest. He breathed deep the damp earthy scent that surrounded him, with a bit of spice he could not quite place. Lances of golden sunlight pierced the tree tops that arced over him and glittering insects flashed between them. It was so familiar, but also all so strange. He could hear the soothing sounds of running water; and the calls of birds, frogs, crickets, and cicadas.
He walked towards the sound of water. With each step he felt the rich loamy earth and soft undergrowth under his toes and feet. After a few dozen paces he came to a depression in the earth that a stream flowed through one side of, but on this side it was a nearly still pool. He looked down into the water, and more than the colorful fish flitting below the surface, what surprised him was his own reflection. It wouldn’t be right to say he looked young, but it wouldn’t be right to say he looked old either. He didn’t look middle aged though. Any given age you tried to put his face too would seem off, sometimes in both directions at once. The surprise wasn’t from not recognizing his face either. It seemed that all through his life this was the face he should have seen and that the other face, ever changing as he grew up and then old, that he was used to seeing was just showing a distortion of it.
“This has to be a dream,” He spoke aloud, “Even in my dreams though I’ve felt my pains and aches for so long. I‘m not sure I ever want to wake up again. I could be happy just staying here, I think.”
“This is a dream, yes,” A breathy woman’s voice replied behind him, “But it is not your dream, and thus you do not appear just as you see yourself, but as you truly are. The pain you carried with you into your own dreams before was a remnant of how you perceive yourself and your life. You can not just stay here though, you have a journey to go on.”
“Who are you?” He asked, turning to see the speaker. She was a beautiful woman, about half a head shorter than Harry. Her hair was midnight black, and her skin was paper white. It wasn’t just pale. It wasn’t just not tan. Her skin was completely and totally white. There was no hint of blush, a tan, or even a freckle. Her skin was not a human coloration. Her face also defied any attempt to place an age to her. She was not young. She was not old. She just was.
“I’m your guide, I make sure you can find your destination.”
“So I’m dreaming you?”
“No. We are both in the land of dreams, but this is not your dream. This is not my dream. This is not any one persons dream. You are not dreaming me any more than I am dreaming you. Actually, unlike when you are in a dream that is your own you are not even dreaming yourself, thus why you are showing your true body instead of your interpretation of your factual body.” The woman in front of him ran her fingers through her hair to pull it out of her eyes, and then the woman was a cat cleaning her fur.
“Wait a second, you were a human just a moment ago, now you’re a cat! Or at least I thought you were, wait a minute you still are. Why did I think I saw a cat?”
“I am neither a human nor a cat and I am both and more. I am who and what I am just as you are who and what you are. I did not change, only the perspective of how you saw me changed. In the waking world it is facts you see most easily and you must look through them to find truth. In the world of dream truth is plain to see and you must look through it to find fact.” As he stopped trying to decide if she was a woman or a cat and just relaxed he was not sure if he saw a woman, a cat, some hybrid cat girl, or the hints of other things he felt opening up behind the other images. It was too much to take in at once, he held the image of her as he first saw her firmly in his mind and that was all he saw.
“You seem to learn quickly both to see what is and to control what you see,” she laughed, “It helps at first to see only part of what something or someone is. It is almost impossible to see anyone in their full truth at once, but as you grow more accustomed to seeing it will be less disorienting to view more of the truth of what you see. As you learn it is good to choose to see a partial image so that it is easier to process, but forgetting that what you are seeing is only part of the truth is dangerous. So, see only one or two aspects of someone or something if you must, but try to glimpse the other aspects when you can. When you first looked at the place we are sitting, what did you first see?”
“The pool of course!” Harry replied, but as he turned to gesture he was not sitting on the ground by a pool with little colorful fish in a forest. He was sitting in a chair in an empty hallway in a courthouse by a shiny metal water fountain where he could see his reflection. The fish were red, blue, yellow, and pink wads of chewing gum that had been left in the fountain. He and the woman who was his guide were wearing black business suits. Until that moment he had not realized that neither of them had been wearing anything a moment before.
“There are many different aspects to the truth of this place as well. It can take on many appearances to you. There are some facts you will glean from observing it’s many truths. One is that it is not an unpleasant place; it is reasonably comfortable, it is relatively safe, and it has what you need for now. Another is that it is a good place to gather yourself for the next step. One more fact shown by the truths of this place is that it is a good place to meet someone. There are also the facts that it is not far from danger, and that it will likely become unpleasant if you stay too long. It is a good place to rest, meet me, ask questions, and then move on from to your destination.”
“What is my destination and why do I have to go there?
“You already know both of those answers, the inability to see them just means you are not yet ready to accept them. Luckily, since you have a guide, you do not need to know the destination or reason. You just have to go.” She smiled her catlike grin. Looking again, she was a cat grinning in a manner that was almost human. Looking again in the same way at his surroundings; it was a forest, it was a courthouse, it was a pool, it was a water fountain, and it was also a city park at sunset. It was more places. Some were easier to see than others. Some he liked seeing less than others. Many of the ones he liked the least were the ones that showed him most clearly that he would need to leave soon and the path he should follow.
“If you don’t have any more questions that cannot be asked while we travel,” she gently suggested, “It would be best if we left. You can stay a little while longer, but the quicker we get on our way the better it will be for you.”
“Well, I suppose since it is a dream I will wake up eventually and I guess I would like to see where I was going before that happens,” He nodded his head as he decided, “Let’s go.”
As they walked he chose to primarily keep the aspect of the truth of his surroundings that was a forest in his mind. He liked it best. He couldn’t see his path as clearly as with many of the others, and maybe that was part of its charm. All of the aspects grew darker as they went though. The forest literally grew darker and there were occasional thorns on the trees he passed and on the ground he walked over. In the courthouse they had moved into the courtroom and the prosecution was presenting its case against him. He had left the park and was now walking through a bad neighborhood of a large city.
In every facet of his journey he could see, his guide helped him and supported him on his journey. She gave him a machete and helped him hack through the jungle they were traversing. She helped argue in his defense regarding every crime he was accused of. She helped him search for an ostrich feather large enough it would outweigh his heart. Together they poured through an ancient tome to find his name. She used a pole to push their boat to the far side of the river.
There were times when it was hard or frightening. They were chased by a pack of dogs. They delved caves into the darkest depths of the earth. They scaled a mountain that stretched to the stars. They climbed a tree that held the entire world in which he had lived in one of its branches, and he wasn’t even sure whether they were climbing up or down. They flew past stars, then out of time and space.
Through it all his guide stayed with him. She encouraged him when he could do it on his own. She made sure he had what help he needed when he fell a little short. She helped him back up when he fell. Whenever he doubted he could continue she was there with a smile and he had the strength to go a bit further. After a few hours, perhaps days, perhaps years, perhaps eons, perhaps seconds; they were finally there.
“Do you know where you are now?” She asked carefully. For some this was the hardest part of the journey and could take the longest. She had grown to know him well in their sojourn, and did not wish him pain.
“I think I do.” He responded softly, different truths of what he was seeing flashing through his minds eye. He had learned much on this journey, not the least of which was how much he had yet to learn. Seeing himself in his true form that was an eagle, he preened his feathers thoughtfully before continuing, once again seeing the truth of himself as a man. “I have passed from the waking world into the land of dream. I have now passed through the land of dream and stand at the gateway to the land on the other side of dream. We began where the waking world borders on the world of dream, we now are where the world of dream borders on the world of the dead.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. She had grown to know how well he could see and how insightful he could be about the facts and the truths he saw represented, but even those with the keenest sight and minds could not see what they were not willing to believe. “I know this next question may sound silly after the answer you just gave, but I must make certain that you understand fully. Why did you have to come here?”
“I died.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I lived a good life.”
“What does that mean, to live a good life?”
“I don’t really know, but I think I did it.” He chuckled dryly, then looked worried, “If I go there, will I be able to come back here? It wasn’t always pleasant, but I liked it. I liked being with you.”
“Not everyone who goes through ever comes back here, but many do. I don’t know if those who don’t can’t or have reasons for not coming. Just as seeing dream for what it is has allowed you to open your eyes and grow if you let yourself, seeing death for what it is may allow you to open your eyes even further and grow even more if you allow it. Those who come back can only tell us about what they saw as much as you could tell someone in the waking world about what you have seen here. You could get across basic ideas, but it would be incomplete and surreal. The world of dreams; however, links all existences I know of. Perhaps there are worlds on the other side of death. Perhaps there are worlds on the other side of any of the other worlds dream runs to. I don’t know.”
“I know I didn’t actually state the second part of that question as such, but I think you saw it. Will I be able to see you again?”
Birth of the Dragulian
Sarii cautiously felt her way down the unseen stone stairway; away from the sweltering summer sunset above. The deeper she had gone the more the dimming red twilight of the surface had faded until there was only the inky darkness. A familiar metallic scent that seemed out of place wafted up the slowly winding, then straightening stairway. Down below she could hear a slow drip, occasional shuffling, and whimpering, each muffled cry echoing in the chamber below. Those must be the others chosen to serve the Empress. Her resolve to strangle her fear strengthened. She would not enter her new life a mewling coward, whatever she faced below. Her Lady had chosen her to be given as a gift to the Empress, to serve a special and honorable function her Lady had said.
The young woman tried to maintain focus, to be ready for an attack from anywhere. Her Lady had told her confusing parts of why Sarii had been chosen. Courage, intelligence, and battle readiness made sense. That she had also been chosen for beauty was odd; attaining her skills had earned her more than a few scars, then an unkind puberty had left her skin a blotchy pattern of pock marks. These were the reasons her Lady had given; however, and her Lady was not to be questioned. Sarii had no idea what kind of ritual she was going to face. She did know that if it were a trial by combat she would be ready. She wouldn’t be in top form. She had drank no water for hours; in addition to her left shoulder still paining her and not moving right despite the healers best efforts. She wouldn’t be at her best, but she would be ready nonetheless.
On reaching the level of the whimpers the stairs continued down for a few more steps and then her bare right foot found cool water instead of the next stair. She hesitated, shifting weight back onto her left foot.
“Remove your robe and enter the water,” a deep, smooth, male voice commanded. In the darkness she allowed her robe to fall onto the last steps, then gently lowered herself untill she felt the sandy bottom. The pool was deep enough that the water came halfway up her shoulder blades.
“The gift of the Eternal Empress,” the voice intoned as a single drop fell into the water.
“The gift of the people,” a wet cutting sound, a sound of rushing then trickling water, some shuffling, the whimpering stopped, the water level rose slightly, and the metallic smell grew stronger. The water became noticeably warmer. Sariis mind clamped down on an icy dagger of fear, she slowed her breathing, untensed her limbs, and relaxed her face.
Fear had no purpose here. Sariis father had always said fear only helps with three things; running, fighting, and doing something stupid. If not kept in tight reign when doing the first two, they would become the third. This wasn’t like any trial by combat that she had ever heard of. She needed to be calm, to figure out what was expected of her. If she died here she would still be dying in service to the Empress, but she had always hoped that she would die in a way that she could see glory in her death and know how she had served. Even the most noble death in defense of her Lady would pale in honor next to the most ignoble death in service to the Empress, but like each time she had faced death before, she still desperately hoped it would not come yet. If she assumed rightly what had just been poured into the unseen waters, then this was a place of death, and of unpleasant death at that.
“Immerse yourself, drink until you can drink no more, then rise.” The man in the dark gave as his next command.
Sarii hesitated, then lowered herself down. The water covered her shoulders, her neck, then her head. Her long dark hair soaked it in. She was weightless, floating in the lukewarm water, unable to see or hear. Her mouth opened, the water flowed in, the taste took away what doubts had remained as to what had been added to the water. She wanted to spit it out, to retch, to scream. She forced herself to calm, then swallowed again, and again, until she could hold no more. Standing, her he3ad broke the surface.
She opened her eyes, and now she could see. The room was a fifty foot wide sphere, a dome over stair stepped benches built into the floor and halfway up the wall. Three narrow stone staircases came down, cutting through the sides to a four foot wide circular pool in the ground. The light seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. What Sarii focused on was none of these things. What she saw was the half dozen bodies around the pool with their throats cut, and the half dozen figures laying them down now that the last of the blood had been drained out of the corpses into the pool. The crimson bloodstained water dripped from Sariis hair and face, gasping for air and locked in a look of horror.
A warm feeling started in her belly and spread outwards, going down her arms and legs and up into her face. Warmer and warmer as the six figures calmly watched her. Warm was no longer the word, hot , then burning. The skin out of the water felt like it was on fire. She ducked back down under the water. Although she could still feel the fire building and raging in her body, at least being submerged took some of the sharpness away. Dull aches formed in her joints and muscles. Her lungs took on an entirely different burn. She needed air.
Sarii broke the surface gulping for air. The six joined by another now were staring at the young woman. The water was steaming now, and when her face felt the air the pain was unbearable. She took a few quick gasps then dived back down.
The pain in her face dulled with the going under, but the burning was still everywhere, and her joints and muscles throbbed. Next her muscles began spasming. Her body was thrashing out of control. Unable to reach the surface, Sariis lungs tried inhaling water which then boiled in her lungs and came out as gouts of steam. Eventually the water level lowered down enough that she couldn’t keep completely submerged. The burning was agony, but the aches subsided. Minutes that seemed like hours passed until the burning slowly stopped.
Sarii curled up panting on the dry sand at the bottom of what was once the pool. Her skin, no longer just scarred, but now red and blistered, itched. The now eight figures gazed down at her as she rocked back and forth. She rocked slowly at first, but then faster as she tried to resist scratching. The urge was just too powerful. Where just a few moments before her whole world had been pain, now it was an overwhelming need to scratch … hard. The top layers of skin peeled away leaving smooth, pale, unblemished skin behind. No scars, no pock marks, just smooth creamy skin. She started to move, then stopped. The soreness and stiffness in her shoulder was gone. Once again she started to stand, still shaking. Her entire body moved more easily than it ever had before, she felt … wonderful. Standing took no effort, as if he body weighed no more than a feather. Pains so slight she hadn’t even known they were there had disappeared.
Sariis eyes slowly rose to the eight figures standing above her. Drifting back down her eyes came to the bodies lying on the floor. Her face hardened and she looked back down at the sand under her feet, unconsciously rolling her left shoulder experimentally. The sand was littered with flakes of dead skin. Once again she was startled by the absence of the network of scars that had decorated her legs. That brought her back to the thought of the six dead a few feet away. Then a realization came to her, the blood was gone along with the water. A shudder went through her as she remembered how she had boiled the water off.
Confused, wondering and upset, her mind jumped from one thought to another until her head was a riot of thoughts and emotions that would not stop. For several minutes the men and women above studied her.
“You are now one of the Gulian. Follow me . You will be hungry, tired, and have many questions Daughter of the Night.
-One hundred and thirteenth year
of the independent reign
of the Eternal Empress
City of Imsalan
The young woman tried to maintain focus, to be ready for an attack from anywhere. Her Lady had told her confusing parts of why Sarii had been chosen. Courage, intelligence, and battle readiness made sense. That she had also been chosen for beauty was odd; attaining her skills had earned her more than a few scars, then an unkind puberty had left her skin a blotchy pattern of pock marks. These were the reasons her Lady had given; however, and her Lady was not to be questioned. Sarii had no idea what kind of ritual she was going to face. She did know that if it were a trial by combat she would be ready. She wouldn’t be in top form. She had drank no water for hours; in addition to her left shoulder still paining her and not moving right despite the healers best efforts. She wouldn’t be at her best, but she would be ready nonetheless.
On reaching the level of the whimpers the stairs continued down for a few more steps and then her bare right foot found cool water instead of the next stair. She hesitated, shifting weight back onto her left foot.
“Remove your robe and enter the water,” a deep, smooth, male voice commanded. In the darkness she allowed her robe to fall onto the last steps, then gently lowered herself untill she felt the sandy bottom. The pool was deep enough that the water came halfway up her shoulder blades.
“The gift of the Eternal Empress,” the voice intoned as a single drop fell into the water.
“The gift of the people,” a wet cutting sound, a sound of rushing then trickling water, some shuffling, the whimpering stopped, the water level rose slightly, and the metallic smell grew stronger. The water became noticeably warmer. Sariis mind clamped down on an icy dagger of fear, she slowed her breathing, untensed her limbs, and relaxed her face.
Fear had no purpose here. Sariis father had always said fear only helps with three things; running, fighting, and doing something stupid. If not kept in tight reign when doing the first two, they would become the third. This wasn’t like any trial by combat that she had ever heard of. She needed to be calm, to figure out what was expected of her. If she died here she would still be dying in service to the Empress, but she had always hoped that she would die in a way that she could see glory in her death and know how she had served. Even the most noble death in defense of her Lady would pale in honor next to the most ignoble death in service to the Empress, but like each time she had faced death before, she still desperately hoped it would not come yet. If she assumed rightly what had just been poured into the unseen waters, then this was a place of death, and of unpleasant death at that.
“Immerse yourself, drink until you can drink no more, then rise.” The man in the dark gave as his next command.
Sarii hesitated, then lowered herself down. The water covered her shoulders, her neck, then her head. Her long dark hair soaked it in. She was weightless, floating in the lukewarm water, unable to see or hear. Her mouth opened, the water flowed in, the taste took away what doubts had remained as to what had been added to the water. She wanted to spit it out, to retch, to scream. She forced herself to calm, then swallowed again, and again, until she could hold no more. Standing, her he3ad broke the surface.
She opened her eyes, and now she could see. The room was a fifty foot wide sphere, a dome over stair stepped benches built into the floor and halfway up the wall. Three narrow stone staircases came down, cutting through the sides to a four foot wide circular pool in the ground. The light seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. What Sarii focused on was none of these things. What she saw was the half dozen bodies around the pool with their throats cut, and the half dozen figures laying them down now that the last of the blood had been drained out of the corpses into the pool. The crimson bloodstained water dripped from Sariis hair and face, gasping for air and locked in a look of horror.
A warm feeling started in her belly and spread outwards, going down her arms and legs and up into her face. Warmer and warmer as the six figures calmly watched her. Warm was no longer the word, hot , then burning. The skin out of the water felt like it was on fire. She ducked back down under the water. Although she could still feel the fire building and raging in her body, at least being submerged took some of the sharpness away. Dull aches formed in her joints and muscles. Her lungs took on an entirely different burn. She needed air.
Sarii broke the surface gulping for air. The six joined by another now were staring at the young woman. The water was steaming now, and when her face felt the air the pain was unbearable. She took a few quick gasps then dived back down.
The pain in her face dulled with the going under, but the burning was still everywhere, and her joints and muscles throbbed. Next her muscles began spasming. Her body was thrashing out of control. Unable to reach the surface, Sariis lungs tried inhaling water which then boiled in her lungs and came out as gouts of steam. Eventually the water level lowered down enough that she couldn’t keep completely submerged. The burning was agony, but the aches subsided. Minutes that seemed like hours passed until the burning slowly stopped.
Sarii curled up panting on the dry sand at the bottom of what was once the pool. Her skin, no longer just scarred, but now red and blistered, itched. The now eight figures gazed down at her as she rocked back and forth. She rocked slowly at first, but then faster as she tried to resist scratching. The urge was just too powerful. Where just a few moments before her whole world had been pain, now it was an overwhelming need to scratch … hard. The top layers of skin peeled away leaving smooth, pale, unblemished skin behind. No scars, no pock marks, just smooth creamy skin. She started to move, then stopped. The soreness and stiffness in her shoulder was gone. Once again she started to stand, still shaking. Her entire body moved more easily than it ever had before, she felt … wonderful. Standing took no effort, as if he body weighed no more than a feather. Pains so slight she hadn’t even known they were there had disappeared.
Sariis eyes slowly rose to the eight figures standing above her. Drifting back down her eyes came to the bodies lying on the floor. Her face hardened and she looked back down at the sand under her feet, unconsciously rolling her left shoulder experimentally. The sand was littered with flakes of dead skin. Once again she was startled by the absence of the network of scars that had decorated her legs. That brought her back to the thought of the six dead a few feet away. Then a realization came to her, the blood was gone along with the water. A shudder went through her as she remembered how she had boiled the water off.
Confused, wondering and upset, her mind jumped from one thought to another until her head was a riot of thoughts and emotions that would not stop. For several minutes the men and women above studied her.
“You are now one of the Gulian. Follow me . You will be hungry, tired, and have many questions Daughter of the Night.
-One hundred and thirteenth year
of the independent reign
of the Eternal Empress
City of Imsalan
Assassin
They say the best way to a man's heart is through his stomach. It's not the most direct route to try to stab your blade in through the upper abdomen, around the ribs, and into the chest cavity. However, it does involve more in the way of skill and less in the way of hoping your blade doesn't just make a shallow gash while trying to go through the ribs. Also, a gash along the ribs will at best stun the target, while an upward abdominal thrust will almost certainly have dire results for the one afflicted, even if you do miss the heart.
Our assassin, however, could not afford to miss. She had lured her target into a corner of the garden that was well hidden, but it would only take one yell to bring the other guests. She had to be silent and perfect on the first shot. She wouldn't be able to go for the abdominal shot anyways; first because the barons embrace wasn't going to be letting her move from against his front any time soon; second, her dagger wasn't long enough to find the heart from that direction. There also was no way she would be escaping with his blood on her. The wound had to be away from her and somewhere that wouldn't spurt blood on her hands.
Convincing him to meet her in this corner without anyone knowing who he was meeting was done for her by the baroness having several friends at the party. He wouldn't want his wife suspecting much until he decided whether he had found an adequate replacement for her yet. Her left hand probed the back of his neck until she found just the right spot, the hollow where the skull meets the first vertebra. She kissed him deeply, brought her blade up, held him tightly, then deflowered his spine.
The cord was severed neatly and painlessly. One moment he was voracious, ready to consume her; the next he went limp, and she was lowering him to the soft grass. She wiped her blade on his handkerchief, hid it again, and walked her swaying gait away.
She reached a dark enough deserted corner, where even if someone were to come around a corner and see, they would only think it a trick of the shadows Then she changed. Dark hair turned grey, her face elongated, crows feet and laugh lines formed and deepened, curves began to sag ever so slightly, her jaw and nose grew more pointed, and a widows stoop started in her spine. There was no reason for anyone to have known the baron would have been meeting his mistress, but there was no reason to risk ruining her payment when precautions were built into her anatomy.
There had been little reason for the baron to hide what he was doing at the party. His wife already knew, and although the rumors were inconsistent as to who the partner was, the grapevine of the city Imsalan ensured that anyone who cared, and many who didn't, knew that he was having an affair. The girl was a young distant cousin of the baroness who had been sent to the baroness to be one of her ladies. Ambition and impatience had led the girl to grow tired of currying favor with the baroness when she saw a faster way to curry very different favors with the baron. The silly thing had been sent back to her home in disgrace with warnings that if the baroness heard of her again, the next anyone heard of her would be a eulogy. It was quite important to the assassin that the young lady stay disappeared, for part of her payment was the strumpets place in the imperial court. The baroness; however, had been quite adamant that her cousin was not to be killed if it could be avoided. Her house was losing numbers fast enough as it was.
The baron; however, would have to die. The dangerous idea, that husbands married into one of the powerful houses could pick and choose who can rise to the top, could not be allowed to flourish. Everyone would know why he died, but the mystery would be how.
Our assassin, however, could not afford to miss. She had lured her target into a corner of the garden that was well hidden, but it would only take one yell to bring the other guests. She had to be silent and perfect on the first shot. She wouldn't be able to go for the abdominal shot anyways; first because the barons embrace wasn't going to be letting her move from against his front any time soon; second, her dagger wasn't long enough to find the heart from that direction. There also was no way she would be escaping with his blood on her. The wound had to be away from her and somewhere that wouldn't spurt blood on her hands.
Convincing him to meet her in this corner without anyone knowing who he was meeting was done for her by the baroness having several friends at the party. He wouldn't want his wife suspecting much until he decided whether he had found an adequate replacement for her yet. Her left hand probed the back of his neck until she found just the right spot, the hollow where the skull meets the first vertebra. She kissed him deeply, brought her blade up, held him tightly, then deflowered his spine.
The cord was severed neatly and painlessly. One moment he was voracious, ready to consume her; the next he went limp, and she was lowering him to the soft grass. She wiped her blade on his handkerchief, hid it again, and walked her swaying gait away.
She reached a dark enough deserted corner, where even if someone were to come around a corner and see, they would only think it a trick of the shadows Then she changed. Dark hair turned grey, her face elongated, crows feet and laugh lines formed and deepened, curves began to sag ever so slightly, her jaw and nose grew more pointed, and a widows stoop started in her spine. There was no reason for anyone to have known the baron would have been meeting his mistress, but there was no reason to risk ruining her payment when precautions were built into her anatomy.
There had been little reason for the baron to hide what he was doing at the party. His wife already knew, and although the rumors were inconsistent as to who the partner was, the grapevine of the city Imsalan ensured that anyone who cared, and many who didn't, knew that he was having an affair. The girl was a young distant cousin of the baroness who had been sent to the baroness to be one of her ladies. Ambition and impatience had led the girl to grow tired of currying favor with the baroness when she saw a faster way to curry very different favors with the baron. The silly thing had been sent back to her home in disgrace with warnings that if the baroness heard of her again, the next anyone heard of her would be a eulogy. It was quite important to the assassin that the young lady stay disappeared, for part of her payment was the strumpets place in the imperial court. The baroness; however, had been quite adamant that her cousin was not to be killed if it could be avoided. Her house was losing numbers fast enough as it was.
The baron; however, would have to die. The dangerous idea, that husbands married into one of the powerful houses could pick and choose who can rise to the top, could not be allowed to flourish. Everyone would know why he died, but the mystery would be how.
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