Prologue

History is not written by those who were here first

It was written by those who are here now.
--Lord Favram Kigan, royal Archiver

“You do not belong here.” The ancient rysyth curled around himself, his feathers grayed
with age. His blue eyes, once the color of the deepest ocean, now were misted turquoise.
The soul gem that stood prominently on every rysyth’s forehead glittered sea-green in the
sun. Around him, lightly dressed human youths of both genders knelt on the platform,
their attention focused on every word from the rysyth’s mind. These were the newest of
the ryshians, their backs and forearms raw from the tattoos they were given. The great
rysyth took a rattling breath. He only came from the sea once a year after the rains to
train them, instructing them in the true way, the true history.
“We Rysyth, Esyth, and Linyth were created by the Maestros. We alone were
tasked with the protection of Caln. Millennia ago. . .humans appeared, but they weren’t
like us.” He rumbled deeply in bitterness, speaking the the clicking, whining, rumbling
language of their race, Rysir, even as he spoke the human language into the minds of
these little ones. It was important for them to begin learning the language, even though
they could never speak it or comprehend the parts that were above and below their ability
to perceive. “You brought corruption to our blessed world.” He curled his lips, revealing
long fangs carefully folded back along his gumline. A trail of poison leaked out and the
children instinctively backed away. They were immune to it now, but years of caution
had taught them to fear the acidic toxin. “Your kind brought the demons, the pestilence,
the sickness, and strife. You tried to wipe out the rightful rulers of this world.” The
ancient rysyth puffed up, his feathers standing on end. He was so old and grey that many
of them could almost believe the old Rysyth had been there to witness it.
“The Maestros, in their unfathomable wisdom, thought it important to preserve
your foul race. Not only did they preserve you, they provided for you and your alien
ways. In those days, though few of us were willing to leave you alive, a few of us were
willing to take upon ourselves a great task. It was Lord Caius, the head of the council,
who divined a plan for salvation that would bring peace between our races and yours.
He decreed that a human soul could be bound to our own, and together they can seek to
undo the corruption.” He now looked upon the children with kindness. “That is the
contract which you have entered this year. There are as many paths as there are
Maestros, but you have chosen the most noble.” Hope shone in the hearts of the children.
“Now, our young Ryshians, serve your companions well, keep your thoughts upon Caius
our father, the father of all Caln. You belong to him now.”
In the eyes of each young ryshian, hope glowed as well as pride. Already, they
considered themselves superior to every other human in Togri society.
“Lord Allum, please excuse my intrusion. It is time for morning drill.” A
slender woman bowed as she addressed the rysyth. He squinted at her and unwound,
passing his great nostrils within inches of her face. She did not flinch at the sight of his
mouth so close, with jaws that could easily swallow her whole.
 “Ah, Deshar Maira Esethan, I thought I heard your voice. The young ones were
just finishing. Tomorrow, I will tell them about their enemy.” He sighed, his acidic
breath stinging her eyes.
“You should rest, my lord. Return to the waves.” She reached out to pet his
gums. He flexed his teeth with pleasure. No unbound human could do this without
succumbing to the poison, but Ryshians were immune.
“Ha, ha, young ryshian, you are kind. Young Deshar is lucky to have you. I
cannot, I am too old and too feeble now to make the trip down. When I came up this
year, I knew it would be my last.” As if to stress his point, he heaved a labored breath
and got up, exposing his thin state.
Maira’s eyes filled with tears, knowing that there was nothing she could do for the
old rysyth. Sorrith would have him soon enough. With a landing that vibrated the
platform, a female rysyth appeared, her jaws full of a very large, dead fish.
“Elder, I have brought you food.” She spoke in Rysir.
“Deshar, thank you. Now children, go. I release you.” All the kids bowed and
ran off. Overhead, the skies broke open, drenching the forest. Allum raised his face up.
“Well, well, Maestro Meranna, in her mercy, grants water to wash down my meal. Praise
be to the Maestros.” Maira climbed on her partner’s neck, belting herself into the ornate
saddle. Deshar stretched her wings and leaped off the platform.
Chapter 1: Maira
The masyth groaned as they munched on the algae of the forest floor, a great herd upon
the ground. They were quite peaceful, but not in the most safe place. They needed a
keeper, and Maira was it. Deshar had her duties to the drowned temple deep under the
waves in the Rysyth city of Innus. That was the human name for it, seen only in the
minds of Ryshians, granted by the minds of their companions.
Today she leaned against the nearest tree, her sword at her side and her halberd
leaning next to her, ready for use. She tried hard not to fall asleep as she listened to the
birds in the trees and the rustling of the leaves as the masyth grazed. Just as she was
about to fall asleep, a young one butted its scaly head into her ribs. She reached out to
pat the little one on the head. It warbled and fanned its leathery wings in pleasure. It was
barely old enough to fly, and its semi-intelligent eyes reflected a great deal of weariness
from the flight to the browsing grounds.
“Tired, eh little one?” The gilded stamp in its skull right in the center of its
forehead plate identified it as Ress. She quietly sat down and pulled parasites off the
beast before sending it back into the herd. It was not too willing to return. The things
thought Maira was their Matron, their pack leader. She let Ress approach again and it
laid its scaly head on Maira’s lap. This was a fleeting pleasure. Maira knew that soon, the
creature would be too large for this kind of attention. Masyth weren’t as big as Rysyth,
but they were still big enough to support one rider comfortably, which was just a bit too
big to rest in a human lap.
Quietly, she took out a wooden flute and began to play a simple tune to ease the
little one. She knew hundreds. This one happened to be from a poem speaking about the
trees in the wet season.
From out on the deeper shadows of the forest, a creature sighed. Maira leaped to
her feet, upsetting Ress, who honked at her. Her halberd was in hand, and she pointed it
in the direction of the sound.
“Show yourself, or I will destroy you in the name of Caius.” She threatened. The
creature stood, parting the bushes with his razor sharp pincers, his leonine face peaceful
as he spread his more human-like set of arms. His single remaining chiropteran wing was
folded tightly against his back and his whip like tail, with its deadly stinger, remained low
—a gesture of non-violence. He shook his slate-gray mane and stared at Maira with
bottomless black eyes. This was no enemy. It was an Esyth, one that Maira knew well.
 “Maira. Thank the Maestros it’s you.” The soul gem at his solar plexus pulsed
with emotion colors of fear and urgency. His mind brushed up against hers as he spoke.
As with Rysyth, his race was incapable of human speech, but they were capable of
telepathy with select individuals. Maira lowered her halberd. She should have known. If
it had been a strange being, the Masyth would have smelled it and become agitated.
“Lord Rearus! Dearest guardian, why are you hiding in the bushes?”
“I wasn’t too sure if it would be you or not. The seasons sort of run together for
me. I am very old as you know, older than any Esyth yet alive on this cursed continent.”
Maira nodded, unable to meet the Esyth’s eyes. This ancient creature was the last of his
kind in the forest of origin, and it was from him that her mother’s family took their clan
name, Esethan. He was a servant of Lemari, a sacred druid.
“Dearest guardian, my mother’s clan has always been at your service. What
disturbs the caretaker of the trees?” The Esyth looked rather nervous, the massive pincers
of his second arms twitching.
“Young one, I’ve got a bit of a problem. Please come. I can ask the trees to
watch after the masyth.” He looked in the direction of the deep forest.
“Lord Rearus. . .What is—“
“No. Not here. Just. . .I’ll bless the area. That’ll keep the enemies from
invading the glade for a little while. At least long enough to come.”
“What is it? Is something wrong?” Rearus looked at her, his emotionless eyes
betraying nothing, but his soul gem revealing great worry.
“It’s a hunted one.” He said quietly. Maira followed him quietly into the forest.
Above them, tall trees, as wide as a rysyth was long, blocked out the majority of
light only yards outside of the glade. These weren’t the tallest trees, but they were still
ancient. Birds chirped in alarm as they passed, disturbed from their nests. Other than
that, the forest was almost disturbingly quiet. Soon they came to another glade. This one
had a large pond in it. Sometimes, when one of the ullis trees died, they left a pond lake
like this, a deep depression in the algae and moss mats that filled with fresh water in the
place where the tree sank.
The hunted one stood in the center of the small lake. She was a linyth, but her
horn snapped off entirely, revealing her soul gem for the world to see. Her eyes reflected
the color of her gem. From her posture, her gaunt body, and her deep violet gem color,
Maira knew that she was suffering and depressed.
“Rearus, get that foul thing out of here. It is a blasphemy to my eyes.” She pawed
at the surface of the water with her golden hooves, leaving ripples in the otherwise still
water.
“Please hunted one, by Lemari, come back. Come eat.” The Linyth gave Maira
and Rearus a bitter stare and lowered her broken head, swinging it side to side.
“No. I am tired. Let me die. I want to feel the surge of lightening through my
body, but Meranna has scorned me. I am never struck. Never, cousin Rearus. Do you
know what that’s like? Do you even care?” She flicked her bony tail. Maira stepped
forward.
“You come in the wrong season, lady. This is the dry season. You’ll find no rain
this close to the end of it. The winds are wrong. Do you have a name? I am ryshian
Deshar Maira Esethan.”
 “Silence human. You can’t help me. You caused this. I lost everything because
of your foul race.”
“I’m not just any human, lady. I am Ryshian. I walk in the light of Caius. Come,
talk with me. Please. Or fight me if you wish. Just let me tend you.” she stepped into
the water. This was more than Rearus would ever do without a spotter. Esyth were not
built to swim. They were creatures of the earth. Most of them were instinctively afraid
of the water. She waded further in, glancing back at him. He fidgeted nervously,
obviously distressed about her being in the water. Linyth were creatures of the air, and
could walk on top as if it was solid. The water deepened over Maira’s head, but she still
swam out. The linyth backed up, her hooves just touching the skin on the water. She
retreated from Maira, unwilling to be near.
“Leave me be human. Don’t you touch me.”
“Come with me my lady. Let’s go to the browsing glade. My masyth are there,
and so are my herbs. I have ointments. Though they are meant for Rysyth they’ll work
on you. Come please. My people honor the three. My own soul is bound to the rysyth
Deshar. Come.” Maira was nearing the center of the pool. The linyth backed nearer to
the shore. All of a sudden with a great splash, Rearus leaped into the water and grabbed,
catching the linyth firmly in his grasp. She screamed and kicked, her peals of anger
filling the glade with discord as Rearus bound her feet with jungle vines and hefted her
over his shoulders.
“I will see you dead, blasphemer! Betrayer! You would deliver me into the hands
of the humans!” She struggled against her bonds and the granite grasp of Rearus.
“Cousin, I know what it means to be gravely wounded. This human’s family is
sworn to help. Her ancestors helped me seven centuries ago, when I was young and
stupid.” He fanned his one wing. The linyth glared at Maira as she bowed as she exited
th pool, catching her breath.
“May I help you lady?”
“You can die.” She snorted and struggled, though she couldn’t break Rearus’s
bindings. The masyth barely glanced up as they entered the glade.
“Now, now. That’s entirely wrong. Lemari would not wish such things. What is
your name, hunted one?”
“I have no name.” she said as Rearus set her down. “I am a hunted one. That is
enough.” Maira took out her kit and began to mix her herbs, crushing thim with her
mortar and mixing them with water until she had made a paste. She began to spread it on
the linyth’s wounds. She stuck her fingers in the gaping hole on her forehead. The linyth
screamed.
“Don’t you touch that you foul creature! Isn’t it bad enough that you take my
horn from me but you must touch my soul gem as well?”
“Easy now, it’s infected. I am sorry lady. Why didn’t you tend to this earlier?”
she took out her dagger and opened the swollen flesh. Dirt and pus oozed out.
“Gentle, Maira.”
“Yeah, Rearus. It’s got to be opened like this. I have to clean it and burn it.”
“No, by the Maestros! I’ll curse you. Let me go. Just kill me, I’ll protest my
death before Lord Sorrith! I’ll curse your name to him!” Maira ignored her, trusting that
Rearus would hold her down.
“Better not, Maira.”
 “Why? I’ve done this for the rysyth, I can do it for her. Sometimes these things
happen. This is a very old wound. I’m surprised it hasn’t poisoned her blood.” She
squeezed the wound, drawing out more junk. She pulled distilled spirits out of the kit and
poured it in the depression. The linyth bucked and screamed in pain. Rearus held her
head down. Maira struck her flint over a bit of moss and set it alight. She heated her
dagger and placed it on the wound. The moment it touched her, the linyth passed out,
making Maira’s job easier. She cleaned her and dressed the rest of her wounds.
“You’d better gather your masyth and head back home Maira.”
“The masyth haven’t finished grazing yet.”
“I know. But this is a good place for this one. I will make sure she recovers
properly. You did a good job.”
“Thank you, blessed one.” She leaped on the back of the masyth she had rode in
on and blew a discordant note on her flute. All of the masyth jerked their heads up and
copied the sound. Maira’s masyth unfurled his wings and leaped into the air.
“I want to check up on her!” cried Maira into Rearus’s mind as she cleared the
canopy. The other Masyth followed obediently. With a dip of the masyth’s wing, she
headed in the direction of Tree City.
In the forest of Origin, the dry season was a time of slow growth. It was a time of
the fruit harvests, the mushroom festivals, and hunting. Tree city was mostly vacant,
tended by the priests, the infirm, and the ryshians. All the others were out making their
living in the forest. Maira landed her herd on the platforms to the protest of the wing
commanders, who did not expect her back.
“Maira, you can’t be here now, there’s no food for them here.” Said a stocky, nut
brown man covered in tattoos.
“It’s just for a bit Asan, there’s been a bit of trouble near the grazing grounds.
Lord Rearus requested that I leave for a week.”
“What sort of trouble?”
“A linyth. She’s wounded but she won’t say why. I treated her, but she’s still in
bad shape. Rearus will call for me in a week, but she won’t tolerate the masyth around
her. She needs peace and rest. They’re too curious. I would go elsewhere, but this is
closer than the alternate grounds.”
“A linyth? Aren’t they extinct?” asked Asan.
“I guess not. I’ve never seen one before today except in pictures, but the desert
tribes talk about herds in the desert. Maybe she came from there.”
“She’s a long way from home. You are going to see her again?”
“Yes. She seems to think we did something terrible to her. I think it was the
Arynians that did it. They took her horn off.” Asan shook his head in wonder.
“How are you going to fix that?”
“I don’t know, but Lord Rearus is adamant about getting her healed. By Lemari, I
will do whatever I can.”
“Eee, child. For you to be swearing by another Maestro than Caius. . .this must
be true. Very well, but not for long. They’ll starve.”
“I know sir. This isn’t my first herding season. This is kind of a special
occasion.”
“Understood. Go on, to your duties. I’ll send word to the air marshals. Expect a
debriefing.”
“Yes, sir.” She saluted him and raced off to corral the masyth.
Chapter 2: Thelembi
Thelembi crouched behind the waste barrels of the slaughterhouse, panting. In
front of him, hounds bayed in their frustration, their noses alternatively on the ground and
in the air. They wouldn’t find him; he had learned the trick of confusing them.
Thelembi was coated in offal from the barrels he crouched behind, covered in
rotting hide that had been set out for the waste carter. The Carter would not come until
the hunt was gone, so Thelembi felt relatively safe. Nobody in their right mind would be
on the streets during a hunt, but not everyone could find a place to hide.
He held open a tiny tin of Dust, a powerful, illegal drug. He always had some, a
powdery concoction made primarily from the spores of a fungus that grew naturally in
Undercity. It was not for his use, it was for exactly this occasion. He knew that when the
dogs came sniffing, they would get their noses full of this stuff, and he counted on it to
keep him alive.
He could barely breathe for the stink, but the alternative was sure death. One of
the dogs sniffed at his pile and he closed his eyes, praying that he would not be
discovered. It stuffed its nose into the can and sniffed, then sneezed, blowing the Dust
everywhere. Thelembi held his breath, but too late. He had to stop himself from
swearing as the tingle of dust stung his nostrils. His eyes watered as he stifled the urge to
sneeze himself. Soon, his nostrils burned with the Dust. Other dogs came to sniff the
pile, some began to chew on the hide, and Thelembi despaired for his life.
To his relief, the master gave a shrill whistle, commanding the dogs to get out of
the scraps, having come to the conclusion that they were snacking, not hunting. They
were, after all, dogs. With a snort, the first dog hiked his leg and pissed on him. The
master, on his masyth, gave the signal to search the next street. The creature groaned and
unfurled its wings a bit, protesting the close quarters. The thing was easily fifteen feet
long from end to end, though it was only about five feet across at its widest spot. Its rider
sat in the saddle with his bow at the ready, his legs occupying the place where the
creature’s arms and front shoulder blades had once been. The master’s hounds grouped
around the legs of the masyth, yipping with excitement. The master lifted his horn to his
lips, sounded three notes in rapid sucession, and waited. Form three or four directions,
Thelembi could not quite tell, similar blasts echoed. With a sharp curse, the master
jerked his masyth around and jabbed it into motion. The hounds trotted after, their
tongues lolling, their tails erect. Thelembi smiled. Soon, the dogs would be seizing or
insane.
Still, Thelembi waited. Two hundred feet overhead, the roof of B district glittered
with yellow light, and he prayed that the man would just go back there. Newcomers to
Undercity claimed that the hunters never came after “night” on the surface, but night was
only a legend to Thelembi. Undercity never got dark as these disgraced ones described—
a soul consuming blackness that heralded the time of monsters, dreams and secrecy. That
there was a time without such things was more amazing to Thelembi than the legends of
this blackness. The undercity never got dimmer or brighter. It had no sunlight, and so
nightmares could walk at any hour. The distant baying of the dogs told him that the
hounds had found alternative prey to chase. With a sigh, he climbed out of his gristly
hiding place. He stripped down on the spot, scraping the gore and offal off of his flesh to
the best of his ability. The clothes would be no good now, but he could find more soon
enough. Reaching back into his hiding place, he withdrew a pouch. Opening it, he
counted twenty gold crowns—a fortune beyond his wildest dreams. This was worth
hiding in gore.
He had stolen it from a slaver, an inner district merchant who had come to the
outer districts to buy young children for the slave markets. The man had drunk himself
comatose on a distilled spirit of wheat and Dust called Larq. Thelembi had been
watching the market assemble, marking his order of theft from the roof of an inn when
the roof had collapsed under his meager weight. The slaver did not stir, and Thelembi,
being resourceful, had relieved him of this prize while he slept in his Larq induced coma.
With luck, the innkeeper would believe that the man ruined the crumbling inn’s roof. A
person under the influence of the drug was unpredictable at best, and the streets of the
Undercity were lawless. Thelembi knew from experience that a man that far gone would
remember nothing, if he woke at all and the innkeepers tended to ignore the sounds from
private rooms. More than one innkeeper had died checking on suspicious sounds.
All of this was common. Illegal fortunes were made and lost in B at the whim of
the gods. Now, that unfortunate slaver’s gold was his. Over the next couple of months,
he would be changing these coins out for less conspicuous ones. Gold was rare enough
that it could be marked and traced. Anyone could be bought in the Undercity with
enough coin.
This left him in a very uncomfortable situation. He was naked and carrying a
pouch full of gold. In only an hour, he would be raving in the effects of Dust. It was
really bad luck to have the dog sneeze into the tin but it was a risk that he knew he would
have to take when he used it. Added to his problems was the Hunt, which was baying
and sounding down the next block. They would not give up on him so easily, but he had
escaped them for now. He knew that he was still in danger. There were hounds that had
not sniffed the Dust, and though the Dust had killed the noses of the dogs instantly, the
hallucinogenic effect took at least an hour.
The hunt was a vicious blood sport popular with the nobles of Arynstar. They
would select one citizen of Undercity to hunt like a beast of prey and pursue that person
until it was cornered. Then they would watch and compose poems as the unfortunate was
ripped apart by the dogs. It was a foul tribute to the goddess Anim, the King’s deity of
stealth and cunning.
It seemed that the hunt was always after him. He had escaped twenty hunts in his
lifetime, including this one, which made him a legend among the urchins of Undercity.
Rumors he had overheard said that the hunt, too, regarded him as a master prize. This
made his position within the local circles very high, but very precarious. Many crime
bosses would kill to take him under their wing, but all of them knew that to do so would
mean his death. It had won him the right to live his life without much inside trouble in B
district, but it cost him valuable connections and allies that could have sheltered him at
times like this.
With nothing better to do, he tried to urinate on the pile himself, but he couldn’t
squeeze out a dribble. Fear still had a stranglehold on his loins. Still, he laughed at his
foolhardy attempt. He couldn’t wear his clothes, but nudity was mostly ignored among
the youth. He scratched his filthy, prominent ribs and tried to think of an escape.
 He had to get clean somehow or even the hunter would smell him, and he had to
get off the streets before the hallucinations started. He was already feeling numbness in
his face as the drug was starting to turn off his pain receptors. He was too far from his
home to reach it in time, and it was not the safest place to go when he knew he would be
raving and insensible. Carefully, he climbed up the crumbling wall of the building and
raced across the closely spaced, flat rooftops. There was only one place nearby in B
district that he could go for refuge. It was a place where the hunt did not dare to go. It
was the temple of Meranna. Her worship had been banned, but whose temple the King
did not dare destroy nor did he dare send soldiers down to crush the worshippers.
The temple of Meranna was unlike any building in B District. It seemed to be
made of living stone. It towered above all the other buildings, but showed no signs of
breakage. It was carved intricately with images of magic and creatures that he had never
seen before. Coming close to the temple, he could smell clean water in the air. He had
been near the place before, and had accepted water from the priestesses who filled the
cisterns, but he had never been inside. The female guard usually turned away men and
boys, but today he was desperate. He had to try.
The guard at the door of the temple of Meranna appraised him with a look of
sheer disgust, holding her left hand to her face and tracing a superstitious sign in the air to
ward off disease. In contrast to the impressive structure of the building, the door was tiny
and obviously man-made. The larger, former entrance was blocked by hewn stone. The
only way in now was by the waist-high door that the guard blocked.
“Guard, I desire the sanctuary of Meranna. I am pursued by the agents of Anim.”
The guard sneered, looking around.
“You are the one her hounds bay after?”
“Please. . .I’ll give alms.” he pleaded, flashing a crown from his pouch. The
Temple of Meranna normally did not admit any male whatsoever, but they had been
known to grant sanctuary to refugees from the king’s gods. This was his last chance. He
hated to give up even one of his treasures, but having them would not matter if he was
dead.
“Because you are male, you must gain permission. Give us your name.” She
demanded.
“I am Thelembi the Porter.” He said quietly. She turned and whistled. A young
girl came out of the small door. The guard said something that Thelembi could not
understand. The young girl’s eyes went wide and she crawled back under. The guard
eyed Thelembi with suspicion. She stared him in the eye, attempting to measure his
courage. It was plain that she was deeply offended that a male would even dare approach
the temple, let alone ask for entry. She towered over him, glaring, but soon dropped her
gaze. Thelembi started to sneer, but thought better of it, noticing her astonished
expression.
“You have the eyes. . .” Thelembi cocked his head.
“Excuse me?” The guard pointed her quarterstaff at him.
“Can you use magic?” Thelembi backed up a pace.
“What? Are you crazy?” the guard lowered her staff.
“But. . .you appear to be of the right age. How many years have you?” Thelembi
shrugged
 “I dunno. . .twelve, fifteen. . .How old do you think I am?” The guard shook her
head.
“It would be hard to say. . .” She stood aside. “You may enter.” Thelembi was
confused, but he had the gut feeling from years of life on the streets that though he had
been given permission, this was no longer a good idea. He took another step back, but
the guard was ready for him to run. She seized his hand. Instinctively, he jerked, but her
grip was like iron.
“Let me rephrase that. You MUST enter.”
“Let me go! Please, I’m sorry! I just wanted sanctuary from Anim’s hunt! I’ll
find another place to hide! I just thought. . .” The guard didn’t loosen her grip.
“You don’t want the sanctuary of Meranna?”
“Yes, please, but. . .no! I just wanted sanctuary, that’s all. . .I wasn’t lying, I’m
telling the truth. I mean no harm. Just let me go. I’ll find another place.” He jerked
again, but she wouldn’t turn loose. He twisted his arm around, breaking her grasp and
turned to run. He made it three steps before the guard’s staff pegged him in the spine and
he crashed to the stone cobbles. He didn’t feel the impact. He was picked up roughly by
his hair and dragged back. The guard didn’t wait for the girl to come back, she just
shoved him face first through the waist high door and poked him until he crawled in. He
was trapped.
“Let me out!” he shouted as the door closed, plunging him into the darkness of
the entrance.
“Your fate is in the hands of Meranna! Go forward or I will pummel you. I don’t
want to hurt you, but you cannot leave now, mage.” Came the voice from the other side
of the door. Mage? Mages were demons worthy of death. He had heard all the legends.
“I’m not a mage! Why are you doing this?”
“Just go!” said the guard. “I let you in little BOY. You should praise Meranna
that I was so kind.” Tears welled in Thelembi’s eyes and he sat against the cool stone,
hurt, confused, frightened, and angry all at once. His head brushed the ceiling of the
tunnel, obviously designed so that the worshippers would all come into the sanctuary in a
proper posture. As he touched the walls, squiggly lines of writing glowed along the
walls. Thelembi only guessed that they were prayers of some sort; he was illiterate.
There was no way out of the tunnel but toward the other end—into the sanctuary. He
began to crawl forward.
As he crawled, he cursed his luck, Anim and the Dust, but he held his tongue about his
thoughts of Meranna. He believed in gods, but trusted none of them. None had ever
done him good. To be cursing one in her own temple when she obviously wished him ill
was foolish. He was just about to begin grumbling about the filth that would fester in his
wounds when he reached the end.
He stood in the sanctuary, shielding his eyes. He had never seen such a bright
place before. The light shone pure white—a color Thelembi had never seen. He stopped
as spots swam before his eyes. He began having flashbacks to his early childhood, when
the great fire of B district swept through the merchant district. He backed hastily into the
dark entryway once more.
He sat there, staring in fascination until the spots cleared and he could see in to
the sanctuary. Cautiously, he got up, minding his feet. They were numb. It took him a
few tries to lift them off the floor without stumbling. As he slowly stumbled forward, the
young girl appeared before him, out of the mist, but squeaked and ran away when she
saw him.
The magnificent, ancient interior of the temple arced above him as high as the
outer building. The white light of the temple hurt his eyes. Strange, humid air obscured
the view of the ceiling and the air was moist. Thelembi thought he was starting to
hallucinate, seeing that strange air. The floor was a series of causeways over more water
than Thelembi had ever seen in his life. He paused to look at himself in the water. He
was filthy, his long hair dangling below his shoulders. His face, though coated in old
blood and offal from the slaughterhouse, was attractive and young, though scarred from
his life on the street. What separated him and allowed the hunt to identify him was plain
to see. Of all the urchins who prowled and scurried in the streets, few had blue eyes and
platinum white hair. Those that did were usually bastard sons of royalty, but none that he
had ever seen had the threads of gold running through their irises the way he and his
brother did. The water was so clean and so pure that he knelt down to drink. Just as he
touched the water, a jolt wracked his body. He drew his hand back with a cry of pain, but
felt somewhat better for having touched it. He considered the water for a long moment
before slowly lowering his hand down into the water. It tingled through his whole body,
refreshing him as if he had eaten a full meal. He was just about to drink some when a
female hand jerked him away, making him sprawl on the walkway. He looked up into the
face of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Stunned, he could only stare.
“It is not for humans.” She yanked him to his feet by his hair.
“Sorry, the guard just let me in. I. . .I’ll go back out!” Her face was livid.
“And why would acolyte Bucera let you in boy. . .Especially before permission
was given?”
“I don’t know, ask her!”
“What did she say to you?”
“She called me a mage! I. . .I’m no mage, I can’t do magic, I’m not evil, I’m just
a citizen—“
“Look into my eyes, boy.” She said, lifting his chin. He suddenly felt as if there
was no other choice but to do her bidding. He looked up into blue eyes that were faded
almost white but laced with the purest gold, just like his. Thelembi squirmed, trying to
avert his eyes after only a moment. She dropped him to the floor with a sigh.
“Very well. Now I know. Well, boy. You wanted sanctuary, and you have it.
Follow me.” He cowered on the floor, having never before seen a human with such
natural authority, strength and ageless beauty. He held his pouch tight to his chest.
“Who are you?” he asked, crouching, not daring to look up. “Let me go. Please.
I want to know what I did to invite your wrath. I can make amends. . .” He opened his
pouch. The woman put her hand over the opening.
“I am the attendant of Meranna, Seras Indra. I need no gold. Feed your brother
with it, Thelembi. You have done no wrong to atone for . . . yet.” She looked at him with
distaste, then helped him stand. As he cowered, she looked down upon him. She didn’t
stare as intently this time, but Thelembi felt the weight of thousands of years and
shuddered. “So you were under our noses all this time.” She said enigmatically.
“How do you know about my brother?”
“I am cloistered here, but I am privy to the rumors whispered by the acolytes. I
have heard about you and your brother, but little did I know that you should have been
sought by us in your youth. Come, you have much to learn, and your nakedness is not
appropriate here.”
“Sought by you?” Seras stopped and looked over her shoulder.
“You are a mage, Thelembi. I shall have to scry for your birth. No, you are most
welcome here.” She said. He retreated from her, crouching like a frightened beast.
“But your guard. . .she . . . she. . .” he grabbed his scraped elbow. Seras looked
down at his injuries.
“I apologize. Bucera is not gentle. I believe I shall speak to her. She may have
gotten overzealous, seeing you come here of your own will.” She said quietly, “You are
not in trouble. Follow me. We will bathe you with safer water.” She walked past him,
expecting him to follow.
He began to shuffle forward on his numb feet, marvelling at how her flawless,
dusky skin and raven black hair stood out beautifully against the alabaster and cerulean
pillars as she walked away from him. He began to follow timidly, trying to take in
everything at once, when translucent images began to fill his vision. With a feeling of
pure dread, he knew he was beginning to hallucinate. A strange image of a horned beast
of burden walked beside Seras. She was surrounded in a white aura that only enhanced
her beauty. Thelembi shook his head, trying to clear his vision, but it would not clear.
“You’re so beautiful.” He muttered numbly, unable to stop his thoughts from
entering his mouth. Seras stopped abruptly, looking at him over her shoulder.
“Of all the beauty I see you marveling over, you choose me. I am nothing.”
Thelembi blushed, scratching his head, but he could not feel it. He looked at the white
causeway, and it tilted at an odd angle. He felt himself lose his balance. She caught him
before he tipped into the water. She slapped him, trying to keep him from passing out, but
he only felt the pressure of the hand as it connected with his cheek. “What is wrong with
you?” she demanded.
“Dust. . .my lady—“ she dropped him on the causeway in disgust. He got up
slowly, feeling nothing, though he knew he had hit his head hard. The room had stopped
spinning, but now things were beginning to appear: strange images from his deepest
nightmares. He shut his eyes, but the visions began to dance out of the backs of his
eyelids.
“Dust? You dare come into this place of worship having used the king’s drugs?”
Her voice was harsh. He felat as if he didn’t ever want to displease her. He sensed great
power in her, power that he could not understand. Numbly, looking around him in
desperation, he broke down.
“Please no. . .please. . .I will pay you! Anything, anything, just let me go. I have
a brother that cannot live without me. . .please. It’s not my fault! I only use it to hurt the
dogs. . .I . . .they sneezed it in my face.” He tried to explain, tears leaving grimy trails
down his cheeks. Seras looked down on him without mercy. Once again he was jerked
to his feet. Seras was handed a tiny idol. She tapped him on the forehead with it, calling
out to Meranna. A bolt of electricity lanced through him, clearing his head but not quite
returning his senses. “Repeat yourself.” She demanded. He did so, and the women
retreated into the mists. She sighed and set him down, and then pushed him forward. He
stumbled, still unable to feel his feet.
 “You believe me?” he asked, his brain not quite catching up to his actions. She
smiled, but it was not pleasant. This time, as she moved, she kept a hand on him to
steady him. He stumbled forward, still numb from the drug.
“This idol contains a specific spell. It bound you to truth for as long as you
remain within these walls. If you had lied, it would have killed you.” She led him into
the thick mist at the back of the temple. He had never seen such a thing and balked,
unwilling to cross it. He couldn’t see Seras, even though he could feel her hand on his
back.
“What is this?” he asked, hardly daring to breathe.
“This? It is just a fog bank, a cloud.”
“What is it?” Seras frowned.
“When there is water in the air itself. I pity you for never having seen the sky.”
“What is a sky?” Thelembi was confused. Seras shook her head and simply
pushed him through the cloud bank and into the tunnels of the temple dormitories.
Instantly, he was surrounded by another dozen women, all of whom dragged him into a
tiled pit full of scented water. He panicked as they dunked him and rubbed him with
potions that bubbled. When they finished with him, his skin was scrubbed, revealing a
color so pale that it was obvious that he had never seen the sun. He was at least six
shades lighter than the palest person in the room. They dressed his wounds before they
wrapped him in a soft robe and hustled him into the sanctuary. He was made to lie on the
cold stone before the altar, where they bound him hand and foot. Despite the shackles, he
felt more comfortable than he had felt in a long time. He found that he could not keep his
eyes open.
“Rise, Thelembi. We have been waiting for you.” called a voice. Slowly, he
opened his eyes, realizing that his numbness had gone, but the aftereffects had firmly
taken over. He was as weak as a baby and he had a pounding headache. With a groan, he
got to his knees, realizing that the shackles were gone.
“It was only a precaution while the drug wore off. You are quite strong for your
size. If you were better fed, you might have been a problem.” said a female voice. He
looked up, seeing the speaker: a priestess who stood over him. It was not Seras. As he
slowly stood, he looked past the priestess to the image of Meranna, standing with a staff
in one hand and a pitcher of water in the other, from which flowed the water that filled
the outer sancuary. It took him a few moments to remember why he was in the temple.
He smacked his lips, his tongue feeling three times bigger than it should be, and his skin
began to prickle with pain.
“Why? Why am I here?” he croaked, unable to remember and awed by the sheer
power he felt coursing through the room. His voice echoed in his head. The priestess
handed him a cup of water, which he gulped down greedily.
“Because you are cursed.” The priestess said kindly. Thelembi felt the blood
drain from his lips.
“Why?” was all he could think to say. The priestess frowned.
“Do not dare to ask such questions! Meranna usually hides her secrets from fool
males like you. Do not invite her wrath by ruining the honor she does you by simply
allowing you as far as her sanctuary.” Thelembi trembled. He didn’t understand.
“Please! I just want sanctuary! The hunt—“
“The hunt does not dare come here.”
 “How do you know me?”
“We don’t.” said Seras, answering him as she entered through the door behind the
altar and between the feet of the idol. “Peace high priestess, I will speak to him.”
“As you will, ancient one. He is of your kind.” The priestess adjusted her robes.
Seras sighed.
“We do not receive many who need to be here, I am sorry for our rudeness. All of
your questions will be answered in time.” She said softly, understanding his hangover,
“We only know what I was able to glean from you in your ranting and in your twisted
dreams. I was given a gift that survived my vows. I see into the minds of certain people.
Ages ago, I cloistered myself because my gift has grown. . . In you, I caught glimpses as
your eyes and mine connected, but what I saw troubles me. Your brother. . .”
“Leave Rahli out of this. I am here; you will deal with me. Just what do you
want?” He asked quietly, “I want nothing from you but a place to hide until the hunt
leaves.” The priestess chuckled.
“How imperious. If you knew me you would not dare. Do not fear, it has been
hours while you slept off the drug. Our scouts have reported that the hunt is gone,
Thelembi the Porter. When their dogs began to seize, they called off the hunt. You are
still in danger though. The priestesses of Anim seek you, believing you to be possessed
by a spirit of their lady. When they find that you are not, you will be dragged to her
temple and offered before the demoness.”
“But. . .the hunt is dedicated to Anim. Why can’t they just forbid it?” The
priestess set her jaw.
“I hate to speak of her foul practice here in the temple of our blessed Maestro, but
you must know what has gained interest in you. Anim is a demon, not a goddess. To her
and her followers, this is but a game between her priests and priestesses. The lord who
chases you, Huntmaster Cet, is a priest of Anim. If the Hunt catches you, they will not
simply slaughter you. He will trap your soul in a gem with his foul magic and place it in
one of their nasty constructs to serve as a watchdog for the King or a hound of the
inquisition for all eternity. They are very excited, Thelembi. In their opinion, cunning
such as yours is not often seen.” Thelembi considered this for a few moments.
“The surface. . .” he considered thinking of being able to go up there. It was the
dream that transcended even the wildest dreams of wealth. To be able to go to the surface
was to be recognized as a person in Arynstar society. Most of Undercity’s citizens would
give anything to go up there. Thelembi was no different. Seras seemed to sense that.
“No Thelembi. If you take that path, you will leave this place, true, but you will
do so without your brother. To them, their highest tenet is that the weak are slaughtered
and the strong survive. From what I could see, Rahli is not whole, therefore he is weak in
their eyes. If they kill you while you are parted from him, we may take him in for a time,
but if we do, we will not hesitate to tell him why his brother abandoned him.” Thelembi
shook his head slowly.
“But. . .but. . .protect us, ladies!” he plead, “I cannot fight and flee them forever.”
Seras stepped forward.
“There is a way. You are invited to join Merrana’s path of salvation. . .to become
an escort even as I am an attendant. If you do, you can stay here, and Anim cannot touch
you.” Thelembi backed up.
“I didn’t come here to join your church.” He said, crossing his arms.
 “But we alone can save you. You can stay here and bring your brother. We will
care for him for as long as our tenets allow.” Said the priestess.
“When would that be?” the hairs on the back of his neck raised. They gave him a
piteous look, but said nothing. Thelembi was not stupid. He answered for them, bitterly.
“So. . . you, too, want to kill him.” The priestess set her jaw.
“We cannot let him join in the path. It would be too hard for him. When he
chooses to follow the path of Meranna, he will be blessed, and he will die.” Seras said
quietly, her voice full of sadness.
“No deal. Let me go.” He said stubbornly, turning to leave, but Seras blocked his
exit. The high priestess sighed. “He has no choice. When the curse manifests in you
and in him, we will do as we must. Our methods allow for the rite of merciful death. By
choosing it, he will make it through judgment and into Meranna’s care. He is too
damaged to survive on the path.”
“And me? What will become of me?”
“You will be a servant of Merrana, just as I am.” Seras said, stepping forward.
“You will be cleansed of your magic, and the process will make you nearly immortal.”
“But not Rahli?”
“Rahli cannot.”
“No.”
“It is not our choice. Unless you are dedicated to Meranna your magic will begin
to twist you. It will be obvious to all that you are not fully human. Your dedication will
halt that process.”
“And if I refuse?” he asked, feeling trapped. “Will you kill me now?”
“No. You may refuse for a while yet, for you are not ready, but the time will
come when the curse inside you manifests on its own. When that happens you will no
longer be able to refuse a desicion.”
“I wish I had never come here.” He said weakly.
“We will come for you soon enough. I will feel your curse manifest. Like you, I
am also cursed.”
“I. . .I don’t believe you. I want to go.” The priestesses turned away. Seras
sighed, putting her hand on his bony shoulder.
“You may, if that is your choice.” Said Seras, “But just know that soon the hunt
of Anim will come for you again, if the priestesses don’t find you first. Only Meranna
can offer you protection. These halls will never be closed to you, but we will pray that
you decide to join us.”
“I must think on it.” He said, hoping they would accept that. Seras frowned.
“Very well, but please remember: you are cursed, Thelembi. Only by choosing
the path can you be freed from its burden.”
“I am not cursed.” He set his jaw. Seras shook her head, sadly.
“Yes you are. You just have not reached your major growth yet. When you do,
you will learn, but you will be in danger. It will be a very dangerous time for you, and
you will not develop properly without our help.”
“But why?”
“We will tell you more as you grow. There are secrets shared among those on the
path. They are secrets about your past, the past our ancestors all shared.”
“Not without Rahli.” He said, crossing his arms. Seras shook her head.
 “I told you we cannot accept him.” said Seras. “He would only suffer if he was
allowed the path. Besides, if you choose and we allowed him to live, even in the shelter
of our temple, he would grow twisted and die young while you would be preserved.”
“I don’t have a choice, do I?” He asked sadly, feeling trapped. They said nothing,
but guided him out. He gladly let them lead him. Once he was safely standing against
the narrow tunnel leading outside, the high priestess gave him a stern look.
“You always have a choice, but we wish to make it easy for you.” She said. Seras
nodded.
“The high priestess speaks truth. I feel that the time is very near when the curse
will manifest in you. Those who are like you do not last long outside our aid. Please
understand that it is not we who have cursed you, it is your father’s sin. We may seem
harsh, but it is the only way to avoid the suffering you will endure. As we said, you have
some time yet. Ultimately Meranna forces her path on no man. Just think on it as an
adult, that is all we ask for now. How can you say no to such an honor?”
“I have no honor. I am nothing.” Thelembi growled. Both of the women
laughed, not believing him. He scowled.
“Very well Thelembi, if you do decide, we can care for Rahli until he manifests
the curse.” Thelembi’s eyes went wide.
“Attendant Seras will lead you out” Said the priestess with a tone of finality, “We
can do no more for you today.” The priestess turned and walked away. Seras showed
him out. On the other side, she handed him a bundle of fresh clothes and a bag that was
several times heavier and larger than his pouch. It was filled with coins, water, food, and
items that could be readily fenced. Seras smiled.
“This will aid you. We have exchanged your prize. Go, and take care of Rahli.”
“Are you really immortal?” asked Thelembi, before Seras crawled back in. She
stopped.
“Not quite. I can be killed.” She chewed on her lip before helping him put the
pack on his back. He was grateful. In his weakened state, the pack was too heavy to lift,
but once on his back, was easy to carry. “The priestesses have forgotten, and I have
willed that it be so, but. . .” She sighed sadly. “There used to be a different way. My
brother was set on that path, but that was before we were sealed down here. If that way
was still available to us, we would not hesitate to set you and Rahli on that path. Maybe
Rahli could have been healed in time . . .” she shook herself, then wiped away a tear.
“We want you to live, Thelembi. Your mother’s sacrifice to grant you a chance at life
compels us to do our best for you. Your mother should have destroyed you at birth,
that’s all I can say.” Thelembi’s stomach lurched, hearing that.
“Did you know her?” she shook her head.
“No. Your mother. . . you are not. . .” she set her jaw and sighed. “I can tell you
about those like her, though you may never see them down here, but let this secret be yet
another incentive for you to return. Don’t profane her sacrifice by throwing your life
away to Anim.”
“But what of other Maestros?”
“They would not take you. Lord Sorrith would, for he occasionally accepts those
of our kind, and so would Lord Asair for a season or two longer, but Asair’s priests in F
district will still return you to us once they find out you are cursed. As for becoming
Sorrith’s chosen, they are all. . .” she shuddered. “You do not want to go there. The
undead, his Enlisted. . .”
“I have heard the legends of C district.” he said quietly. “I’m not sure I believe
you, but I said I will think on it. From what you say, it doesn’t matter if I go to Meranna
or to Anim or Sorrith, Rahli will die any way.” She looked at him helplessly.
“You must not see it that way. If you choose Anim, you will be destroyed! There
are things worse than death--”
“Yeah, like living without my brother. It sounds as if Rahli could follow the path
you offer me, but you won’t take him. Why?”
“Because. . .he is maimed. If he is on the path. . .he will never be free as you are.
You and he will live centuries, Thelembi, and he will never walk, you know that. He will
be a burden in time. I know you love him, but perhaps when the time comes, he will
welcome the release we offer. Perhaps, if we allowed him to take the path, he will come
to regret it and fall away. He would be forever lost.”
“You don’t know that. I will find another way. I will not let Rahli be murdered.”
He said, turning his back to her. “The way I see it, your Maestro and Anim share the
same philosophy—the weak and injured will die. But you are wrong, Rahli is not weak.”
He adjusted the pack she had given him and raced off into the labyrinthine streets.

Chapter Rahli

Thelembi’s only thought as he neared the crumbling, abandoned structure he

called home was of Rahli, his identical twin. They had seldom been apart for more than a
day, and he knew that Rahli would be beside himself with worry. He couldn’t get around
like other boys.
When they were very young, they were caught in a riot that set fire to their home
and killed their stepmother. Thelembi was fine, but Rahli’s legs were crushed. He
remembered pulling Rahli out from under the beam and seeing his legs separate from his
body. The fire had cauterized the wounds, and so he had lived. A priestess of Lemari,
providing care after the blaze, had cut off the dead tissue and stitched up the remnants.
After that, they were alone on the streets. Thelembi swore to protect his brother. He
fashioned a sling that Rahli could ride in, and carted him on his back. Thus, the urchins
dubbed him “The Porter,” even as they mocked Rahli for always being carried by naming
him “The Prince.”
Thelembi never minded. Without Rahli he would be alone, and being alone on
the streets of B district was a death sentence. He pushed open the door of the crumbling
building and entered the ruins he called home. The smell of human urine and feces
washed over him and he gagged after being in the clean, fresh smelling temple.
It was a three story building, but the top two floors had caved in, leaving only the
walls standing. Every few years, the bosses would chase away the squatters and rebuild
houses like these for outrageous rents. For now, though, it was his home. Thelembi had
managed to chase off other squatters while he was there, but he was never there long. It
was time to move on, especially in light of what he had learned.
“Theli!” cried the normally quiet voice of Rahli from the pile of filthy rags he
slept on. Thelembi set the pack on the dusty floor and rushed to Rahli, embracing him.
Rahli had been reading again. His most recent book was thrown up against the wall.
“What did you do to yourself? You are clean!”
“What is it?” he asked, pointing at the book. Rahli shrugged, squinting at the
squiggles and pictures.
“It was donated to me yesterday. I walked out to the market square to beg, and
this woman dropped it in my basket. I think it just fell out of her pocket. She looked real
religious and this is real valuable. It is a book of prayers and poems.”
“Does it have anything about Anim?” Thelembi asked. Rahli’s eyes grew wide.
“How did you know? This whole book’s about her!” He pushed aside his rags
and walked over to the pile of tattered books on his hands, his stumps straight up in the
air. He pulled out the most recent and sorted through the hide pages. He showed
Thelembi pages of neat squiggles and symbols with a picture of a creature he had never
seen. It was a six limbed, fuzzy carnivore with huge ears, a bushy tail, and wings that
were too thin and fragile for flight, chasing a tiny mouse, while being chased by a hound,
which was in turn pursued by a human, who was silhouetted with the holy symbol of
Anim.
“Ahem. Praise to Anim, beautiful goddess! She who designed the trembling
Morim in its hole and the baying hound that chases her. . .” Theli scowled, realizing that
the pictures depicted a hunt. Rahli stopped.
“Why?”
“That looks like a hunt.” He said pointing at the pictures. Rahli nodded.
“Yes, yes, the hunt is her most sacred activity according to this”
“I think She is after me. . .”
“You were the one the hunt was after? But that was two sleeping periods ago.”
Theli nodded. “No wonder you haven’t come home.”
“The priestesses of Meranna told me. I have been there, in hiding.” He said.
Rahli dropped his book.
“No. . .but that’s impossible! You got to see all those women without me?” Theli
rubbed his shorn scalp where the ladies had used an ancient, contraband knife to shear his
previously long hair.
“I didn’t have much of a choice. I had to use the Dust and the dogs sneezed it on
me. The temple was the nearest refuge.”
“Then I suggest that you ignore what they said. They are priestesses, simply
taking advantage of you because you were on Dust. Why do you worry? We have never
worshipped the gods any more than we have given in to the crime bosses. Why start
now?” Theli took a deep breath. He didn’t want to tell him exactly why.
“Anim wants me dead or alive. I think we have tempted fate one too many times.
Now, Meranna wants me too.”
“Wow. What are we going to do?” he said, closing the book.
“We are going to leave B.” Rahli’s jaw dropped.
“You can’t be serious! How?”
“I. . .I don’t know. But we can’t stay here.” He kicked off the sandals they had
given him and pulled off his robe. Reaching in the pack, he pulled out a long tunic and
cord and threw another tunic to Rahli. Rahli grinned in surprise.
 “They’re clean and whole!” he cried, stripping off his own filthy rags. “We’re
like lords!” He stuck out his chest. The cream colored tunic stood out bright against his
filthy skin. “What did you say to them? What else is in there?” Theli grinned.
“Aw. . .I came in there and they couldn’t resist me.” He ginned, “They didn’t
want to let me go, but they sent me home with food and fenced my loot. You wouldn’t
believe what I got. . .” he began pulling things out of the bag as he told most of his story,
leaving out what the priestess and Seras had offered him. Rahli’s eyes got wider with
each unbelievable word of his story, even as he snatched a loaf of bread from Thelembi’s
hands as it came out of the pack.
As Thelembi mentally appraised the things he pulled out, he realized that there
was more worth here than the twenty gold crowns. He swore, counting everything out.
They had given him rings and baubles that could easily be strung and carried without
detection under a tunic, but either the priestesses knew nothing of market value, they
were setting him up as a temple thief, or they were trying to win him with material goods,
because the total appraisal was at least twice the worth of those coins. Rahli, who was
better at figuring and appraising, goggled at the items in front of him. He found his
pouch in the bag as well, buried deep and full to bursting with copper and silver pieces.
Carefully, he divided the coins into Rahli’s pouch and rolled the rest of it up into the robe.
At least with this, he would have enough to buy more Dust and perhaps enough to bribe
the guards at A gate. He knew he could never bribe the purple gate guards; they would
simply take his money and slaughter him. Getting through to the Purple district required
a written petition to the judge of the district and an oath of service to the King’s gods. It
would take more time than he was willing to take. In the time the judge was considering
his petition, anything could happen, and he wouldn’t take an oath to gods that obviously
wanted him dead.
With this, however, he could buy the protection of some of the urchins. Perhaps,
just perhaps he could become a Boss. His mind swam with the possibilities, but not here
in B. Not with the temple of Meranna so close. He didn’t believe a word of their claims
to him having magic, but he believed that they would kill them eventually.
“Wow. . .with this we could buy a house on the street of tears! We’d be set for
life!” The thought had not occurred to Thelembi, who had thought of running, not
settling down. The street of tears was the street next to the Purple Gate, the only place in
all of B where there was a semblance of law, but that was only because the guards at the
Purple Gate upheld most of the laws of the surface, as did the color named districts of
Undercity, which were mostly made up of bastard lords and debtors. The inhabitants of
the street of Tears were mostly new blood, fresh from the surface or kicked out of the
inner districts and too afraid to venture deeper into the district.
“No.” Thelembi set his jaw, wrenching himself from their dreams. “We’re going
to string these and leave.”
“But our contacts, our legend. . .we will be unknown in A or C or. . .”
“The bosses will know of us. They have the freedom of the districts.”
“Yeah, but. . .that’s going to be a favor. . .”
“Maybe. Or maybe we should just start a new life. Pay our own way through and
forget about our legend.” He said, knowing that if they were known in other districts,
they would be chased in them. It would take him a long time to figure out the refuges
and hiding places in a new district, and he knew that a boss could easily identify them.
Despite their hard earned freedom from the bosses, they had been called into more than
one meeting room in their lives. He began ripping at the rags on the floor, making strips
of fabric that he could put his treasures on. Rahli began ripping his own strips.
As always, they divided everything evenly. It was not the best way to keep this
kind of wealth, but there were no banks here, no safe place to keep any amount of money.
It had to be carried or buried, and chances were better that a buried treasure would be
discovered. Squatters looked in every cranny for caches, and the streets were all solid
stone. A pickpocket couldn’t pull these strips off. A person might be mugged, but only
the newcomers were usually so abused. True citizens of Undercity tried to keep to
themselves out of self preservation. Muggers tended to be killed or maimed by their
marks more often than not. Most Undercity citizens knew some form of hand to hand
combat because carrying or owning manufactured weapons meant a sentence of
immediate death and iron weapons were absolutely forbidden outside of a few, carefully
guarded industries.
When they had distributed their loot, Rahli climbed into his sling, grabbed the
bag, which contained only the robe, and Thelembi hoisted his brother onto his back.
They left the crumbling ruin, knowing that neither would ever return to it.
Thelembi hustled through the streets toward Broad, the longest street in the
district, which was next to the service gate, the only way to the surface in B district.
Being in the clean temple had alerted him to the stink of Rahli. He needed to get Rahli
clean or the people he needed to contact to start their new life would not pay attention to
him. Broad was the only place where there were bath houses, the most expensive places
in Undercity, which catered to the bosses and the visitors. He selected one that looked
relatively empty.
There, after paying the exorbitant fee--not only for the bath, but for silence, he let
the attendants haul Rahli into the first bath of his life. The blind attendants scrubbed
Rahli roughly while a barber, a paid member of the Arynstar guard, hacked at his long
hair with his dagger until it was guard regulation length. Thelembi did not bathe again,
but instead watched his brother and the people around him.
When Rahli was clean, they lounged in the bath house, reclining and dreaming as
the attendants massaged the knots out of their young muscles, imagining that this is what
life would be like on the surface. They no longer stank like the streets, and their skin,
eyes and hair could be easily mistaken for a lord’s. Thelembi was wearing his sandals
again, which would give him more status yet. Only those with money could afford such a
luxury as new footwear.
Lounging in more luxury than he had ever thought of affording, his troubles
seemed far away. It seemed to him that perhaps it would be best to wait and scout out the
gates a little before moving on. He had not paid attention to rumors from the other
districts, but now they seemed important to him. With the money, if he planned it right,
he could possibly make it as far as D district, bribing guards around the wheel of
Undercity back through A, F, and E. He wanted to avoid C entirely. The guards at C gate
let anyone pass into the district, but it took a favor from the Bosses in C to get out.
The reason was that C was crawling with nightmares. Rumors and horror stories
of C filled the minds of Undercity youth and terrified the children and adults of the
surface. C was where convicted criminals of the surface were sent for execution. C was
where the undead of Sorrith and the undead of Thrass prowled the streets. Even the hunt
of Anim feared to go there, but then, so did Thelembi. Going through C could be
potentially more expensive than going full circle around Undercity to D. He dozed,
thinking of ways to escape, knowing that Rahli would watch while he slept.
“Theli, get up. They’re asking for more--” Rahli was poking Thelembi in the
ribs.
“This is not an inn. If you desire, we can find accommodation for you, perhaps
send word to your parents. . .” the bath house owner scowled at him. Thelembi sand
Rahli both scowled back.
“We have no parents, citizen. . .” Rahli growled. “Who are you to dare bring up a
sensitive subject?”
“I am Talcha, the bathmaster and proprietor.” He said with small pride. Thelembi
held up a hand to silence Rahli.
“Ah, citizen Talcha. Thank you for waking me. I hadn’t intended on dozing, but
your comforts eased my mind into the oblivion of rest. I do not trust the inns down here.
I’m sure you understand.” Talcha’s eyes went wide and he nodded, understanding. “You
are right, I think we will be going.” Thelembi got up, rubbing his eyes. The man put his
hand on Thelembi’s arm. He leaned in quietly.
“It is not seemly for a lord with such. . .assets. . .to be carting that one like a street
urchin.” Thelembi bristled.
“Watch yourself merchant. He is my brother, my twin.” Talcha licked his thin
lips.
“Of. . .of course he is, how could I mistake. . .it is just that. . .if you but give me a
few silvers, I could procure a cart for you, citizen. Or for him. . .and a slave to haul him
wherever he desires.” He looked at Rahli nervously. Thelembi frowned.
“It would only be a fleeting freedom. Perhaps on the surface, where it is perfect,
but here, I fear that Anim’s hunt would catch us, had we such a thing. Give me his sling.”
The man bowed, trembling. Anim’s hunt was not spoken of lightly.
“Of course you are correct citizen. I did not mean to intrude. The ability to flee
is, of course the highest aspiration of Lady Anim’s—“
“Stuff it merchant. Bring me his sling. I have had my fill of this place.” Talcha
gave Thelembi a sly smile.
“Our seamstresses have repaired your sling; you may have it returned for a gold
crown.”
“A full copper, and be glad I don’t beat you for stealing it.” Thelembi frowned.
“But the thread is of silk. . .”
“Impossible. I don’t believe you.” Talcha snapped his fingers and a pair of ugly
crones came out, bearing the sling. It had been cleaned and repaired and the threads were
indeed silken. He had a bad feeling he was being fleeced.
“Who do you work for?” Thelembi growled, threatening him. He cowered, his
eyes darting to the barber.
“This. . .you dare not threaten me, this is a watering hole! I. . .I work in the
interest of Lord Cet and Boss Yalim.” He said. “I thought you knew, it’s on the water
rights license.” He pointed to a piece of parchment on the wall. Thelembi made a show
of inspecting the squiggles. He could not read them, but he understood the sly way of
Boss Yalim. It was he who owned the inns of B district, and he was famous for “fixing”
supposedly broken, valuable things and returning them for a high price. Since the outer
districts had no truly common “law” beyond what the bosses set, bosses tended to get
away with whatever they could. Lord Cet’s name, however, panicked him. He didn’t
understand the meaning of “watering hole” but he equated it to a cistern. He knew that
cisterns were common places, where he could be caught or identified if he stayed long.
Then he barked a grim laugh, realizing that he had made it, unknowingly, into one of
Lord Cet’s refuges. He had to get out, fast. The guard serving as a barber might not
know him, but others in this place could potentially put him in danger, if he wasn’t
already in a trap. Straightening, he stuck out his bony, undernourished chest and stared at
Talcha, who fidgeted.
“I don’t think boss Yalim would mind if I slaughtered you now for your insolence.
Give me what is mine!” Thelembi bellowed, but his high pitched boy’s voice didn’t carry
like he had hoped. The blind attendants flinched, but the Talcha didn’t seem to mind.
“Ah heh. . .young citizen. Surely you jest, especially with the guard there.” He
nodded his head to the barber, calmly watching the transaction. Thelembi and Rahli both
chuckled. They knew better. Guards didn’t care. There was no law concerning the
slaughter of Undercity citizens. The only law they cared about was the law of order. If
the citizens weren’t rioting, there was obviously nothing wrong.
“I don’t care. If he is a guard, then he will care less if I killed you. He is a
person. You and I are nothing to him. I think he would rather like to see me kill you”
Talcha paled.
“But the thread. . .”
“Thank you for repairing it with such finery. We will tell Boss Yalim that his gift
to us on your behalf was lovely.” It was a bluff, but it was effective. Now Talcha backed
up, working his jaw silently. Thelembi grinned confidently, believing it had worked.
Then, the man’s eyes went cold as he clenched his jaw.
“Smash it!” he commanded the ladies.
“NO!” Rahli and Thelembi both yelled. Thelembi acted before he thought and
tackled the man, driving him to the floor. The man tucked so that his back, not his head,
was the first to impact. He kicked his legs into Thelembi’s stomach and pushed him off,
throwing Thelembi into the seamstresses. The sling flew out of their hands and skidded
across the floor. Rahli was quick to drag himself to it, holding it tight. Thelembi rolled,
leaping to his feet, and attacked again, but Talcha was ready; he countered his blows
strike for strike. The man was not as experienced, but he had height and weight on
Thelembi. He backed off, circling the man.
“I will be going to Boss Yalim immediately.” Talcha bragged, suddenly not as
simpering as he first seemed, “You seem to be in a hurry to leave, young citizen.
Perhaps you had some other place to be? Perhaps you will not get to the Boss before I
do?” Thelembi sneered, glancing back at the barber and the attendants. He was not
worried. The barber had a cruel smirk on his face and the attendants stood very still.
Since they were blind, they were unable to capture Rahli without risking a fall into the
tiled bath. He was safe. Thelembi flexed his shoulders, built up from years of carrying
Rahli. He lowered his head and looked at Talcha under his brows.
“You are stupid. If you knew Boss Yalim or Lord Cet you would know that this
would only amuse him. Describe us to him for me. I bet that he will get a kick out of it.”
This was a dangerous bluff. Thelembi had no intentions of going to boss Yalim, and
seeing Lord Cet again would mean death, but this man’s counter bluff could potentially
kill him. He could not be sure that the man would not actually go. Silken thread was an
expensive enough commodity that the Boss could consider it a binding favor. He had to
stop the man from leaving for a long while and convince the man that Thelembi was
nobody to mess with. With a bold, swift move, intended to take the man off his feet, he
ducked under the man’s arms and grabbed, aiming for the man’s knees. He wanted to
knock the man into the water, but the man tried to balance, bracing himself. With a
crunch, his right knee buckled and the man crumpled to the floor, howling in pain.
Calmly, forcing himself to be quiet, he got up and stepped on the man’s neck.
“I will pay you a silver piece for the repair, and I’ll give you another if you give
Lord Cet a message. That is my final offer. Blink if you agree.” He put pressure down
on the man’s trachea. The man blinked. Thelembi backed off. The man sat, looking at
his ruined leg. He would not meet Thelembi’s eyes. Thelembi wiped off a trail of blood
from his mouth and nose and stood, still ready to fight. The guard was smirking,
obviously amused. One of the crones had fled, but the other, the thinner of the two,
watched with a wary, appraising expression. This stunned Thelembi. Why was she
sizing him like a slave at the market?
“Indeed. . .as my young citizen wishes. . .” said Talcha, defeated, “But lord Cet
has never spoken of you. May I have the pleasure of the young citizen’s name?”
“No. Fetch my brother the means to write a note.” He said, acting like a boss.
The man snapped his fingers and a piece of hide and a feather with a vial of red ink were
placed before Rahli.
“My brother, I want you to write a note telling Lord Cet who has come to his
little. . .watering hole.” He looked at Talcha, who was wringing his hands.
“I hope the young master is not an enemy. . .”
“Huh. Let us just say that. . .” he tried to find an artful way to say it,
remembering what the priestesses of Meranna said about Lord Cet, “The . . .Lord and I. .
.play a little game in the name of Anim.” He said it as grimly as possible, accepting the
sling from the crones. Rahli chuckled as he began to write. He glanced up at the guard,
who suddenly stood straight. Thelembi saw it too. So, the guard was confused about
Thelembi’s status. “I’ll not reveal my name to the likes of you, but I’m sure you’ve heard
him speak it as he unwinds here before going up. Everything he needs to know is in that
letter.” He tossed two silver coins at the man’s feet and gathered Rahli and all their
belongings. Confidently, he walked past the guard and out onto the street.
“What did you put in that letter?” Thelembi asked when they were safely away.
“Just what you said,” he shrugged, “And I added the poem of the Morim in the
letter to stick in his craw. I remembered it from the book. I couldn’t understand most of
it, but that morim creature sure seems to be a crafty beast to eternally escape hounds.
Just like you.”
“I don’t know about that. I almost didn’t, last time. You are so clever Rahli. I
wish I could read.”
“Not as cunning as you Theli. You really mangled that man. He won’t be leaving
the bath house for a while. Where to now?”
“Oh, I want to go scout the best way out of here.” He said, pausing to check
around the corner for potential threat.
Chapter 3: Deshar
Three weeks later, the hunted one was doing much better. Though her horn would
never return, the infection was under control. She began to accept Maira as a respectable
human, unlike the one that has caused her injury. She would never say what had caused
it, but Maira was patient, knowing that the linyth had endured something so horrible that
even her herd cast her out. She spoke instead of the desert and of the far slopes which
were filled with so much grass that the herd could graze for a hundred years if man had
not forced them to be nomadic. She spoke of the impassible sea, too treacherous for
linyth hooves to run upon, and of the foul city of Arynstar, the city of man. She never
spoke well of the city, believing it to be a blight upon the face of Caln. Maira was
inclined to agree. Her ancestors had fled the city more than two milenia ago to found the
Togri nation.
The masyth came with her after the first week, returning to their grazing as usual.
Maira set up her tent in the trees. With Rearus around, herding was much easier. He was
all too happy to watch while she slept, so the masyth began to grow fat, not having to fly
back to the city every night. They were all growing quickly, and half of the herd would
be reaching maturity by the time Meranna’s wrath, the debilitating annual monsoons,
spilled on the forest. The other half would be spending the wet season in the sea, being
trained by the rysyth.
She brought a comb with her now, to groom both Rearus and the hunted one. It
was a carved bone comb decorated with golden rysyth. It was meant for humans, but she
couldn’t find any combs for the Esyth. Such things were long broken and lost when the
last Eshian died. Rearus waited for her in the clearing, lounging against a root. The
hunted one slept on her feet in a patch of sunlight. The sound of the masyth woke her.
She panicked, her head darting left and right.
“Hey lord Rearus, lady linyth. Look! I brought a comb.” Maira displayed the
fancy comb. Rearus grinned, pulling back the cormers of his mouth to reveal his canines.
The hunted one approached cautiously. Maira grabbed onto a lock of her mane and
worked it through.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Oh, this will make you feel better. It’s my best comb.” Maira continued to gently
work the tangles out of the linyth’s hair.
“Hey, save some of that for me.” Maira put her hands on her hips and smiled.
“You can brush your own hair.” She said jokingly. Rearus grunted and crossed
his arms.
“Aw. I was loking forward to it. Humans are good for that kind of thing, smaller
hands and all. Take pity on an old esyth.” He pouted. Maira blushed.
“Dearest lord Rearus, would I ever decline the honor of touching you?” The
hunted one shivered as she was groomed and rubbed down. She relaxed enough that she
sank to the ground, her eyes and gem shining gold with contentment. As soon as Maira
had worked out the last knot, she began to work on Rearus’s mane, which was much
worse. It was dusk by the time she finished and most of the masyth were sleeping
together in the clearing, resting their heads on the backs of their herdmates. Those that
weren’t had instinctively taken up the position of sentry. Maira walked over to her adult
masyth and pulled off the saddlebags. It lifted its head as she took them, and then
returned to its rest. She opened it gently, and pulled out an ornate bundle of silk ribbons,
threaded with gold and decorated with precious stones. She returned to the hunted one
and began to divide her mane carefully, as if she were braiding hair for a wedding. When
she finished, the ribbons continued for several inches beyond the end of the hair, and each
ended in a golden linyth head bead. Rearus had lit a fire and set Maira’s tent for her
while she was working. Maira embraced him for his kindness.
“What is this?” asked the hunted one, dipping her head to catch a glimpse of the
braids.
“I told my people about you, hunted one. We have not seen a linyth in
generations here in the forest. Our artisans have been working on this since I told them.
Our people respect and honor the three races. This is how we honor such a unique lady.
It is just a trifle, but it is a symbol of our good will. It will keep the forest matter out of
your hair. Our women do the same.”
“You don’t”Maira scratched her short hair. She always kept it trimmed in a boy’s
cut.
“Well. . .ah, I’m different. I’m ryshian. Proper length would interfere with my
duties.”
“I told you Maira’s tribe worships Caius predominantly” said Rearus warmly,
“They have been my allies for centuries.” Maira nodded and returned to her pack. She
then removed a pot with a protective rysyth glass dome protecting a large flower, folded
up for the night.
“Lord rearus, we know you scorn baubles, but perhaps this is a suitable gift. It is
a Hsedra for your grove.” Rearus took the pot gently and removed the glass. Gently, he
breathed on the flower and it responded to his breath, opening for him. The smell of wild
honey flooded the area. Rearus’s eyes sparkled and he replaced the glass.
“Tell marshal Ferdis and the council that it is perfect.” He said.
Overhead, the sound of a rysyth’s alert boomed. Rearus and the hunted one both
looked up, alarmed. All the masyth were up in an instant, returning the call. Soon, a
masyth rider messenger circled down into the clearing as Rearus and the hunted one
melted into the forest.
“Deshar Maira?” asked the young, but professional voice of the masyth rider.
“Speaking.”
“You are to leave these masyth with me and report for duty.”
“I am encamped. These are my duty—“
“Omryth have been spotted by the High Pass sentries.”
“Deshar is not here. I cannot fight.”
“The Rysyth are returning from Innus tonight. The messenger bird arrived shortly
after you left this morning. I will retrieve your kit. Go.” Maira didn’t even get a chance
to say goodbye to Rearus and the hunted one. She simply scrambled onto the Masyth,
tied her straps, and jabbed it into action. Agitated by the alarm, it took off with a rough
bounce which jarred Maira’s teeth. She jabbed it again for the trouble.
 “Sir Maira! This is it!” bellowed

Chapter 5:
Maira screamed as she woke up, the sound of Deshar’s labored breath echoing in her
ears. She tried to stand, but blinding pain drove her back. She looked down at her left
leg, singed and blistered from omryth fire. The landing had put it out. She had a couple
of cracked ribs, but other than that, she was fine.
“Maira. I. . .hurt.” Deshar’s rumble directed her attention to the state of the
companion. Tears sprang to her eyes. As she began to look over her soul bond, the first
thng she saw was Deshar’s wings, torn to shreds. Deshar blinked slowly at Maira. “I
can’t feel my tail. Is it trapped?” It was not. Maira panicked. That was not a good sign.
“I’ll get help. Don’t worry. There may be help in the area!” She got to her knees
and crawled, picking out a few branches, moaning as every movement stretched her
burned skin. Above her the scream of Omryth triumph echoed over the forest. She had
to hurry. The dark tribes of the forest floor would be here any moment. She had to find
help; the rescue wing would probably be hours in finding her.
“Rearus! Hunted one, please. . .” she reached out with her mind, hoping beyond
hope that they were in the area. “Lord Caius, protect me, send help.” She prayed, but
the heavens felt like brass to her. Her heart shuddered, but it was not a natural effect.
She paled as she looked at Deshar.
“Maira. . .hurry.” Deshar whispered. She closed her eyes, her soul gem pulsing
dimly.
“No. . .Deshar.” She did weep then, bitter tears rolling down her cheeks. “I will
stay here then. We will die together, as Caius intended.” Deshar drew another breath and
coughed up water. Maira threw her arms around Deshar’s face.
“That is most likely. But go. If the forest guardian is near then there is hope. Do
not let our corpses fall into the hands of evil.”
“Yes Deshar.” She drew her dagger—her halberd was lost. Deshar’s shock was
affecting her. Her sight dimmed, making her squint to see in the twilit forest. She
struggled to stand or walk. Still, she climbed over the slippery roots, praying that an ally
would come. She had to get to a higher point so that she could see. Just as she reached
the top of the tangle of roots, her wounded leg slipped and she tumbled down, her head
banging against the wood as she fell.
She woke, but didn’t know how long she had been unconscious. Blood dripped
down the back of her neck and the center of her forehead. She was not in the same place
she had fallen. The tangle of roots that she had climbed over was nowhere in sight. She
sould feel Deshar’s mind, but she could not tell where she was.
“Deshar!!” she cried out, both mentally and vocally, risking her safety. Deshar’s
mind stirred.
“I’m here.” She said quietly, “Thank Caius. . .I felt you disappear. . .I thought. .
.” Deshar’s anguish made Maira groan.
“Where am I?”
“Not far. I felt you fall, but you didn’t respond. I feared you had gone before
me.”
“Are you . . .” Maira choked up as she considered Deshar’s injuries.
 “I fear so.” Deshar rumbled weakly “I feel nothing now. My mind is so clear! I
was just thinking of the Ullis trees. I wonder if they exist in Insir. It would be nice. . .”
“I will return.” Maira said, and tried to get up. Her leg did not hurt, but it could
not support her. Carefully, she eased the bones back in place. Sheets of skin came off as
she touched it. Grabbing at the nearby bushes, she tore brancehes off and made a crude
splint by shredding her undertunic into strips.
“Please do, I wish to make my nightly prayers with you.” Maira closed her eyes.
“Guide me.” She said, but even as she did, the wooping scout calls of the
Glowing-Eyes dark tribe echoed all around her. She heard Deshar’s roar cut through the
forest. Maira checked her splint a final time and stood. Slowly, she began to stumble in
the direction of Deshar’s cry. Once more, she sent out a plaintive cry for aid, Hoping
beyond hope that an ally would hear.
She reached the tangle of roots and stopped. They were covered in algae.
Looking at it, she wondered how she had survived the fall, but she could see bits of hair
along the slimy path she had taken down. The cry of the dark tribe sounded again, this
time closer. It was supposed to cause panic in their prey, but in Maira, it only instilled a
sense of urgency. Every second that they were apart made it more likely that Maira
would be attacked. She focused in on Deshar, resolving to be in contact with her bond
mate when she died, even if she couldn’t make it to her side physically. She had to kill
whatever came. She had to protect Deshar while she still had breath. They would die
together.
So intense was her concentration that she could feel Deshar’s failing body slowly
shutting down, but no matter how hard she tried to climb over, she could not. Suddenly,
there was a rustle in the bushes behind her. They had come. Screaming a war cry, she
crouched, pressing herself against the tangle of roots. She had to protect Deshar, she had
to fight to her death! It was certain now, but she couldn’t let her corpse fall into the
hands of the dark tribes that lived on the forest floor.

Rearus heard the thunderous crash from miles away. He had heard the battle
overhead and he and the hunted one had sat together and prayed for Rysyth victory,
despairing for the ones who had fallen.
“Help. . .” the faintest plea for aid came to his mind. He paused. That was a
familiar voice, but it was so far.
“No . . . Maira.” He looked at the hunted one. She had heard it too. Rearus
could not ignore the notes of terror, pain, and grief in that short plea. Without waiting for
a reply from the hunted one, Rearus dashed off in the direction of the plea. He had to get
to her, even if it was only to ease her into Sorrith’s domain. Though he had not asked
her, The Hunted one ran closely behind. As he drew nearer, he heard the desprate, weak
roar of Deshar. The dark tribes would do their best to keep her alive while they stripped
her of feathers and teeth. Only drawn from a living rysyth would her parts remain intact.
If she died, everything still attached would dissolve into water. He signaled the hunted
one to stop, knowing that her hooves would betray their presence.
He willed himself to walk silently, as only an esyth can. He was a creature of
earth and stone. If he chose, he could make even scree hide his steps. The desperate plea
from Maira sounded in his head again. He oriented on it and moved forward, ready to
fight.
 She was locked in battle when he arrived, cornered against a tangle of roots and
surrounded by three scouts. There was another dead on the ground, his throat cut open,
but it was plain to see that they were only toying with her now. Rage welled up in him,
blurring his sight with a mist of red. He let loose the nearly forgotten battle cry of his
tribe, unable to contain his rage. The trees trembled around him, in tune with his anger.
The scouts of the dark tribe whirled in shock and terror even as Rearus bore down
on them. With one quick snap, he grabbed the nearest with his pincer and cut him in two.
The other two tried to run, but the hunted one rose up in their way, her eyes full of ire as
she attacked with her hooves and teeth, kicking and biting with the few natural weapons
left to her. The men didn’t stand long. Rearus cast his senses out to Deshar, relieved to
feel that she yet lived, and the dark tribe was fleeing, having heard his cry. He took great,
heaving breaths to calm himself as he approached Maira, who was still defending herself
with her knife, not comprehending that aid had come. She was ready to fight and die.
She was so wounded that they marveled. Her left leg was a bloody, burned mess,
supported in a rough splint and she was covered in cuts, burns and bruises. Her
expression was a mask of pain and determination.
“You’ll not take me alive, demon spawn.” She growled.
“Maira, it’s me, I’m no demon!” Rearus pleaded. Maira scowled, her eyes glassy
with blood loss. She had not heard him. The look on her face was not one of relief, but
of rage. Still, Rearus tried to make contact with her, but she would not let him near.
“I will smite you if you come closer.” She hissed. He tried to grab her gently, but
she twisted instinctively and slashed. Rearus leaped back, but he was cut deeply across
his arms.
“She’s insane!” The Hunted one cried, shying. Rearus put his hand on her neck.
“No, she’s dying.” He said quietly. “She can’t hear us. Her mind and soul are
trained on Deshar.” He acted quickly, grabbing Maira’s arm before she could swing
again. When she was restrained, her failing senses finally recognized her opponent, and
she seemed to calm, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
“Rearus. . .thank Caius.” she sighed, “Deshar needs healing. Please. . .” she
seemed to lose her strength in his arms. Suddenly she twitched into frenzy again, the
violence of her movements startling Rearus into letting her go. He was astounded that
Maira could even move. She took two or three steps, then with a crack and a strangled
cry, fell sideways. Her splint failed her. Blood began trickling down her shins where the
bone had slipped out of place, giving way through the skin. She lay in the dirt, sobbing.
Gently, his own blood soaking into Maira’s clothes, he put her on the hunted one’s back.
Gently, he eased the bone back and retied the splint, willing it to heal with his magic.
She didn’t respond, though the healing should have been painful. It would not matter
much soon enough, but it was out of respect for her that he did it. When his blood
touched hers though, he felt the unmistakable tingle of magic.
“What was that?” He shook his hand, feeling slightly uncomfortable. The
Hunted one also felt it. It sent shivers up and down her flesh. She snorted as Maira’s
knife, firmly clenched in her hand, sliced across her shoulder as Maira’s arm fell across it.
Once again the tingle of magic raced through them both, this time stronger. Maira
moaned, but did not regain conciousness. The hunted one took the sharp weapon in her
teeth and tried to take it, but could not get it out of Maira’s death grip.
 “Leave it. She’ll not let it go this side of death. Come on. We have to find
Deshar.” He took off, working his way around the roots in the direction of Deshar.
Deshar lay in a pool of water, breathing shallowly. When they approached, both
cried out in horror. Deshar’s body was pierced by branches, burned in several places by
Omryth fire, and her wings were a shattered mess. The dark tribes had succeeded in
pulling out vast patches of her feathers and all of her flight pinions. Right at her
shoulders, and again at her hips, her spine kinked in a sickening way. Both of her hind
legs were limp, lying tight against her sides in a swimming position. It seemed
impossible, just as it had seemed with Maira, that she should still be alive. One great eye
as big as Rearus’s head opened, looking upon nothing, but her failing senses knew what
had come.
“Blessed cousins,” She said quietly, slowly. “You are too late, my magic is spent.
Thank you for caring for my bond mate. I am pleased that she yet lives. We go to the
Blessed Realm together.” Maira sighed, but did not wake.
“No. I’ll, heal you. Just relax.” Rearus sniffed, choking up, daring to step into
the water to put his hand on Deshar’s side.
“No. Even if you had the time to heal my wounds, we would be useless to the
service of Caius. I can’t move, gentle cousin. You couldn’t set my spine so that the magic
would work properly . . . and . . . I’ve already begun to return to the waves.” To stress
her point, she coughed up gallons of water. “Put her here, in my arm, and then kill me.
Don’t let me linger like this. Just. . .honor this last request. Stay with her body.”
“I so promise.” He said quietly, weeping sand. Reverently, Rearus and the
Hunted one approached. Maira did not stir as she slid off of the Hunted one’s back.
Rearus instinctively caught her before her head went into the water and for a moment,
Rysyth, Linyth, Esyth, and human touched. The world turned upside down.
With a magical explosion that blew Rearus and the hunted one back, Deshar died,
turning to water, as was the way of her species. Maira disappeared under the pool that
had deepened in the wake of Deshar’s death. There was no sound, however. The wind
stopped, the birds fell silent, the ripples on the pool stood still as if frozen. Rearus was
blinded by several points of radiant light. The Hunted one was bowing already, her
broken head on the ground.
“Rise, Aleene, the hunted one of the Linyth. Rise Rearus, last of the Origin Esyth.
Come, see what your love has done.” The deep voice of Sorrith rumbled. Both got up
trembling.
“Are we to die as well my lord?” Rearus blinked the spots out of his eyes.
Sorrith chuckled, a sound like a thousand vultures. He was a terrible Maestro to behold.
Gaunt and skeletal, he appeared as a corpse a week dead. He was swathed in the finest
crimson robes and linen bandages as if he were a king in funeral attire. His platinum
death mask glinted in a rare patch of sunlight.
“No, you are not.” He said quietly, crouching over the water. A second point of
light appeared.
“So . . . is she dead? I lost contact. . .” The second being was like a young man
with radiant blue eyes and wings of pure flame like the sun.
“No Lord Caius. She lives, but only just. Her bond, however, does not. What are
we going to do with her? By your contract, she belongs to me. She should be dead.” He
leaned down and picked up Deshar’s soul gem. He held it out and an ethereal rysyth
form appeared.
“Oh. . .” she sighed with relief as she shook and stretched her spectral wings.
“My lords, where is Maira? Where is my soulbond? Where has she gone?” Caius held
his hands out to her, stroking her head. She didn’t seem to shrink, nor did Caius grow,
but somehow, his hand was large enough to pet her like a lap dog.
“She is still there.” He indicated the pool of water. “We have pulled all of you
out of time.”
“Sorrith, don’t you lay a hand on her! She is reborn! She is mine! I have the
right to all mortal life!” shrieked a female voice. A hag of a woman stood, hunched and
covered in leaves, flowers and branches. Her face bore the marks of insanity, and her
violet eyes reflected terrible loneliness. At her appearance, Rearus prostrated himself
despite his invitation to stand.
“Lemari! Calm yourself. She is still under the contract I set up with Sorrith. By
the law, I should give her to him.” Caius said gravely.
“I protest,” said a lithe, willowy woman with ice blue hair and crystal clear eyes.
“As a pure human, true, but her body has been infused with our magic. That makes her a
hybrid, and as such, she belongs to me.”
“Don’t you dare let her take her.” Lemari hissed. “She is no hybrid! Her rebirth
was not by mortal means, but by magic and love! She is new, new! She’ll twist the girl
to her exclusive worship, and that should be declared blasphemy. Look at what she does
to the Daitari!”
“Not here, Lemari. That subject is not on the immediate agenda.” Growled
Caius.
“But Lord Caius!”
“Silence. Let me think. Am I not the head of the council?” Lemari averted her
eyes.
“Indeed, Lemari. There are still living mortals observing us. It would not be
proper to bicker in front of them.” Meranna indicated Rearus and Aleene.
“Whatever we choose, we must act upon quickly. I won’t hold time here forever.”
growled the ancient, surly Maestro of time, Talus.
“Well, shall we wake her?” asked Asair, the Maestro of the dual moon. Around
the pool, some of the outer council Maestros appeared. One of them, Busir, the Maestro
over the Forest of Origin, frowned as he crossed his arms.
“Is she still sentient?” the members of the inner council all stared at him.
“Of course she’s sentient. And yes, she is a child of Caln. . . now. She’s half of
the start of a new master race.” The members of the outer council sighed in wonder.
“Ah. . .but is her soul is still human?” asked Meranna.
“Yes and no. Yes, I sense that she is still carries all the privelidge of a human.
She is still a creature of the One, like us.” said Sorrith. “However, she is equally
Calnese. The love of the three changed this one. All of Caln accepts her, body and soul,
as if she were made of our world. Our curse on the magic won’t affect her. This will be
interesting, a child of Caln with the soulish properties of a human . . . It is a pity we can’t
simply make one like her.” Asair crouched, looking down into the water.
“Her design is exquisite, but flawed. I’m surprised that the linyth curse affected
her so. It is a pity that Ix--”
 “Well, Caius, I won’t hold time here forever.” Said Talus, interrupting. He glared
at Asair. “We should arrive at a decision about this new creation before other. . .parties
become interested. Whatever we do, we can’t leave her like this. Her human clan will
come looking for her, and they will find a monster in her place.”
“One thing is clear, my lord.” Said Sorrith. “It may be centuries before a mate
for her appears. It would be a mercy to her to end her life rather than live with no
pairing, and the temptation to mate with her counterparts. If other parties discover her,
they will tempt her to blasphemy.”
“No!” cried Lemari, “I won’t let you!” Caius smiled sadly.
“He is right, Lemari, as are you,” said Caius, “But death isn’t the answer. That
would be a poor reaction to such a unique event, especially since we provided for it. She
must live.” Caius held out his hands, and all of them grew quiet. “I have decided.” He
frowned, looking from Sorrith to Lemari to Meranna. “She was mine as a human, and by
my contract she must belong to Sorrith. There will be no question. Sorrith, she must be
yours in life. After all, by all rights, she and Deshar should be inducted into your
personal wing at sunset. They died as a result of heroic action. Have not both passed
your judgment?” Sorrith nodded solemly.
“Yes lord. Deshar will certainly go to my personal wing, even as Maira will enter
her new life as a cleansed soul. . .well as cleansed as soul can be but. . .my lord, I wonder
what separating the two will do to Maira. They were to be bonded for eternity, as it states
in your contract. You might dissolve the contract, but these two have been entwinned for
a long time by human standards. I fear that pulling them apart will shatter them both.”
“I am aware of the problems presented as a result of dissolving the contract for
them Sorrith, but this is indeed a unique case. I also realize that her spirit is still human
in its essential nature. I do not discount the resiliency of the human spirit. I believe that
Maira, at least, will be fine, if broken for a season. She lives, and she will heal. Deshar
may be a bit more worrisome, being denied access to Maira.” He looked at Deshar, who
was weeping points of light.
“My lords, don’t take me without her. Please. I can’t go on without Maira at my
back.”
“This is not for you to decide. You are dead. Maira is mortal. One day, she may
rejoin you in Sorrith’s domain. After all, I have given her over to him in life.”
“You will like my vanguard wing, Deshar. All of those in that wing are rysyth
heroes, just like you. You will fly into battle with Atrix and me.” Sorrith said, reassuring
her.
“Well, then, shall we draw her up? She already breaths water like a Rysyth, but
the trauma has rendered her unconscious.” asked Talus.
“Let me part the waters.” Said Meranna. With a quick motion, the watery
remains of Deshar receded, revealing the still form of Maira. Deshar’s spirit whined in
pity. Aleene buried her head in Rearus’s wing.
She was a curious blend of all three races, strangely beautiful and intricately
formed. Her human head and torso blended into the front half of a linyth’s body,
complete with golden hoofed forequarters which blended into the hindquarters of a rysyth
and the chiropteran wings of an esyth. Her feathered tail was curious, having a delicate
pair of bones attatched to her wings, just behind her hips, and a span of flesh which bore
long tail feathers between the bones. The rest of her tail was as long as her body and
prehensile until the last foot, which had a venomous, whip-like barb at the end like an
esyth. As with all true master races of Caln, she bore a soul gem, which pulsed with life
at her solar plexus. She choked as her lungs filled with air, forcing out the water. Her
eyes, when they opened, were luminescent blue and completely without whites. Sorrith
bent down and touched her human shoulder. His personal sigil appeared in the skin.
“What are you doing, Sorrith? She is not dead.”
“No, but she is mine. Since she’s a new creation, I want to be able to give her
sanctuary in my temples. This sigil will be recognized by my enlisted and allow her
through the dividing wall.”
“You would not have that problem if you didn’t deal in the undead, Sorrith.”
Meranna said calmly. “Honestly--”
“Hush now, Meranna. That argument has been closed whether you like it or not.”
Caius said sternly.
“Look, she’s becoming aware.” Lemari pointed out.
The first thing Maira saw was Sorrith’s horrid form, but it did not frighten her
The forest around her was sharper and the air was clearer than she remembered. He held
her hand gently.
“Greetings, my child. I am Sorrith.” Maira cocked her head, her eyes incapable
of displaying emotion, but her soul gem reflected confusion.
“Come, my child. It is time to get up.”
“Is this the field of eternal battle? Is this the courtyard of the feasthall?” she
looked from Sorrith to Deshar, who rested close by.
“You are alive, bondmate.” Deshar said. Maira paled several shades.
“No. . .no I can’t be alive. You’re dead. . .lord Sorrith, how can I be alive? The
bond. . .” Her eyes darted left and right. She caught the sight of Caius, who smiled at
her. She froze, unable to tear her eyes from her Maestro.
“The bond is. . .changed.” said Caius. “You and Deshar cannot be easily parted,
but neither can you exist on the same plane. She is dead and you are not. Look at
yourself. You are reborn.” Maira obeyed, fear and shock playing over her gem and facial
features.
“Long ago, we decreed that if the blood and love of our three races ever mingled
at once on account of a human, that human would be reborn. Even though we decreed it,
we never thought that such a thing would ever occur, nor did we expect that rebirth would
mean a change in form. That was indeed a surprise to us. We don’t even have a name for
you.”
“But. . .Deshar. . .”
“Deshar is beyond you.” Sorrith rumbled. Caius took Maira’s left hand.
“Lord Caius, I am not worthy.”
“Nonsense, my dear, you are reborn. You are clean, and so, for this brief amount
of time at your rebirth, you can face us and live. You are a child of Caln, part of a new
race. I have absolved you of the burden of guilt concerning your life. Deshar’s death
will not curse you. It will bless you.” Caius said warmly.
“But I want to die.” Tears leaked out her eyes. “Please. . .I can’t live without her.
Deshar!” Maira stretched out to Deshar, who came forward, her head passing through
Maira’s outstretched hand.
 “Stop.” Said Sorrith. Deshar recoiled. “Maira, you belong to me now, as the
ancient contract states. This will be interesting for me too, for I have not had a living
mortal in my direct patronage for centuries. It is not your time to die. Indeed, you are
barely born. You need to stand now.” Like a newborn linyth, she struggled to get to her
feet, but failed. None of her feet seemed to work at the same time, and putting weight on
her cloven hooves was painful. In frustration, she extended her wings, stretching them
for the first time. It felt glorious. Meranna put a hand on Maira’s forehead.
“You need aid. Just like a linyth, you will require electricity from time to time.”
With that, a huge bolt of lightening struck Maira, and she practically leaped to her feet.
Meranna also extended a bolt to Aleene, who chortled with pleasure.
“There you go. Farewell Maira. May your new life line up with the eternal plan.”
Meranna’s light winked out in a flash of green.
“She’s jealous.” Caius muttered.
“She’s always jealous.” Sighed Lemari. She put her hands on Maira’s whithers.
She was suddenly beautiful. For the first time in millennia, her eyes were dry.
“Good girl. Do me proud. When you find a mate, I expect to see lots of cute little
babies. . .hatchlings, I mean.” She winked, “You dedicate them to me and I will bless
your lineage.” She kissed Maira’s forehead, and then walked over to Rearus. She began
to talk with him softly.
“I must go back to my watching.” Both of Asair’s heads spoke at the same time.
“If you are down here, than Caln is in danger. I must—“
“Go on. I’ll not be long.” Caius said. Then he turned back to Maira.
“You may forget this moment as time passes. Think of this like birth. No mortals
remember their birth though others may tell you of it.” Caius indicated Rearus and
Aleene, “You are new, but like all mortals, you must seek your own path and we cannot
and will not lightly interfere. Just remember that you belong to to Sorrith now, the first in
a long time to be a living mortal in his retinue. Do not worry, though, I will still watch
over you. I will not forget the dedication you showed me as a human.” He motioned to
Rearus and Aleene. “Come here, you two.” Fearfully, they approached. Lemari
followed them, smiling. “We never told the races about this plan, and it would be good if
you don’t tell another soul how she was remade.” Both nodded solemly.
“I understand.” Both said.
“Good. Now, Rearus, Aleene, you know that when we appear to mortals, we
usually grant a gift and request a task. The council’s jugement to you is this: Rearus, has
Lemari been speaking to you of her decision?”
“Yes my lord, but I will miss being the sacred druid. . .”
“We know, but this is more important. You will age now, and die soon, for you
are old. There are still esyth tribes in the Gherir. The moment you and she choose each
other, she will change form to adapt to the forest. Never fear. Your children will
repopulate your clan. The forest of Origin cannot remain healthy without its caretakers,
but it will survive while you are gone searching. Go, after we leave.”
“Yes, lord Caius.”
“Good. Now, receive your gift.” Caius touched Rearus’s back. A silvery wing
burst out. It was not a solid thing, but as Rearus flapped it, it seemed to work like a real
wing. “There now. Ages ago, we lost the templates, and so what is lost cannot be
replaced in flesh. This is a replacement of magic. Only those who have seen me will see
this, but you will be able to fly again.” Rearus bowed down, sobbing for joy.
“Aleene, hunted one, we know your name was stripped from you when you were
cast out of your herd. Your rape was a tragedy. The human who captured you is dead
now. Does that please you?”
“Yes lord.” She said, trembling.
“Your hybrid twin sons are still living. They are in Arynstar, the city of Man. We
have forgiven you for the act. We know that love for offspring is greater than natural law,
and we do not hate you for letting them live. Now that you are cleansed of the
blasphemy, you have a choice of tasks. I can provide for you a replacement to the horn
that was ripped from you. I will rename you. I will even place my seal on your brow so
that they must accept you, though they will not see your horn. I am sure the Togri will
accept you. They’re human, but you may find comfort in the ritual of bonding. There
hasn’t been a linian among the Togri since the days of Favram.” Aleene bowed her head
to the ground.
“My lords, I cannot bring myself to join with a human. Cousin Maira was kind
and I love her for that but. . .can another human be so?”
“Oh, you don’t understand humans. There are many like her, just not where you
have been.” Caius paused. Sorrith came forward. “There is another choice. You may
instead choose to go with Sorrith. We know you have suffered, but he has a position for
you. Your task in his service will be to seek out those like the one who captured and
raped you and deliver his judgement upon them.” Aleene stood very still.
“My lords. . .I have sought death for so long. I choose to go with Sorrith.”
Sorrith stepped forward and put a hand on her soul gem.
“Then receive your task in my blessing.” Sorrith said gently. “You will come
with me when I leave. You have a great assignment ahead of you.” With that, he pressed
his seal into her right flank. She shuddered and seemed to turn transparent for a moment.
A beautiful horn appeared on her forehead as if she had never lost it, and she returned to a
solid state. Her squeal of astonishment was so shrill that Maira and Rearus covered their
ears.
“That didn’t hurt at all!” she looked up at Sorrith. “My horn. . .but how?”
“You are completely dead now and your lost horn could be returned to you. All of
my enlisted can regenerate under the right circumstances.”
“I don’t feel dead.” Sorrith stroked Aleene’s mane.
“That is because you are still warm.” He said. Caius smiled. Maira wept.
Quietly, she embraced Aleene and Rearus.
“I will miss you both.” She said.
“Lord Sorrith, what is she?” Maira asked about Aleene. Sorrith smiled.
“I am surprised that you have never encountered my enlisted warriors. The next
time fate leads you to Arynstar, I may reveal my human servants to you. I created the
path of the watchers as a method of salvation, but occasionally I accept one of the three
into the ranks.”
“Then make Deshar one of them! Then she won’t have to—”
“No, Maira. No. Her body is already gone. I cannot. Deshar’s path and yours
are different now. You are no longer soulbonded anymore, though the bonds of love are
eternal. Take consolation in the fact that you both belong to me. Besides, how would
you ride with her now?”
“Yes, lord Sorrith.” She looked at the ground, rubbing her right arm where he
seal glowed like fire. Caius put a hand on Maira’s shoulder.
“Well now, young one. It seems that it is your turn.” He took a breath. “Maira,
there are complications about this form you now bear. I must do something that I greatly
dislike. All creatures should be as they are created, but you require a special instance.
Until you find a mate, you will have to remain in a human form. There will be times,
blessed times when you are not observed by humans, when you are allowed to assume
your natural form. I know this will be hard, but it must be done. I will keep this glade
hidden for a day, but when the sun sets tomorrow, you will be bound to a human form.”
Rearus looked away in sorrow. Maira was merely confused.
“My lord, then why has this happened to me, if I must appear to be human?”
“It pains me to admit that we Maestros, the creators and directors of life upon
Caln, have no idea what to do concerning you, but that is why we must leave you now.”
He stroked her sides. “I know it is a rather cruel gift, but for your safety, it must be.
Even granting you some relief from human form is a risk, but we can’t risk it until we can
insure that your race will survive. Be vigilant. The allies of my former steward would
seek to corrupt you.” Maira nodded and shuddered. “I pity you young one, and I wish
you well. You will have a human’s span of years before we force you out of the Togri
tribe, if you are not required elsewhere sooner. It is just a little bit of comfort. I believe
that if you endure this, you will live a long life. Only Talus knows how long, but it will
be at least the length of a rysyth’s years. After all, as a human, you were deeply tied to
that race.” With that, he kissed her and disappeared, leaving only Sorrith in the glade.
“Well, Maira. It is time that we must be leaving.” He returned her dagger, which
he sealed, etching his sigil into the blade, and placed Deshar’s gem in her hands. “I trust
you know what to do with this?”
“Yes Lord Sorrith.” She said quietly. Deshar passed her incorporeal form
through Maira in a final embrace. Sorrith mounted her as if she were solid. Deshar
hefted Aleene with her forearms even though she was corporeal. With a snap that only
she heard, Deshar leaped and opened her wings, flying off without Maira. Maira leaped
into the air after them, but they were too quick, and as she reached the canopy, they
disappeared into the sunlight. She grasped one of the high branches with her hind feet
and tail and sat there, staring at the sky, tears streaming down.
“Deshar!!” she roared in rysir, sobbing. She felt broken and alone, the part of her
being that had been occupied by Deshar was vacant.
“It’s no good, Maira. Come back down.” She was put off balance by rush of air
from Rearus landing on the branch next to her. She had to flap her wings to recover it.
“I will miss Aleene, but they are both dead now. We are not. Come. I will stay the day
with you.”
Time resumed around them, and the rush of sound from the forest was deafening
to her ears. She could see in the darkness of the forest floor as well as she could see in
the light. Creatures peeked out at her that she never noticed before. She seemed full of
energy that did not slake. Rearus enjoyed it with the patience of a parent. He showed her
some plants and creatures that were poisonous to humans, yet nutritious to the children of
Caln. They feasted, drinking from the small pool, and then napped. Rearus curled up on
the algae mats that made up the ground and Maira slept in the pool itself.
As sunset approached at the end of her day, she hugged Rearus.
“I don’t want to be human.” She sighed. “I like this much better.” Rearus
tousled her hair.
“I do too. It is almost as if you are my daughter, like this.”
“Will I ever see you again?” Maira asked.
“It is my greatest wish, my child. But I fear that you will not see me until I have
returned to Sorrith. I will remain until the humans find you.” With that, the sun set, and
Maira was driven to the ground in pain. She screamed in Rys, her unnatural voice
straining and bending as all of her body seemed to collapse inward.
“Lord Sorrith!” she screamed. “make it stop!” With a final snapping sound, she
was fully human once more. She curled up in a fetal position and shivered. Rearus lifted
her and set her down head resting on Deshar’s ruined saddle. Carefully, he picked her
tattered clothes out of the pool and dried them, then helped her back into them. When she
was dressed, she tried to stand, but her legs would not obey. Rearus gently helped her.
“You are not meant to walk like this any more. Your body no longer knows how
to walk on two feet.” She slowly rose, and just managed to take a few steps with his help,
when the cry of a Rysyth echoed overhead. Rearus looked up.
“It is time for me to leave. Steel yourself for the trial ahead. I pity you.” He
kissed her, slicking her hair with his barbed tounge. “I do not like the company of many
humans, and you must be in their care for now.”
“Goodbye Rearus. If you reach the feasthall, look up my mother. She died two
dry seasons past.” Rearus bowed, his ears flat to his head.
“I will do that.” He said, and melted into the forest. Without his support, she
could not retain her balance, and dropped to the ground. She settled back on the saddle,
Deshar’s gem clutched tightly to her chest.
A team of masyth riders landed in the clearing to find Maira resting. She knew
they would not send a Rysyth. They were too big to come down here safely. Seeing a
living Ryshian, they brought their spears to bear. The grim captain spat in her face.
“Disgrace! Drop that gem, blasphemer.” Maira looked up.
“I am not disgraced, I am absolved.” She said quietly. Spears poked at her. She
shrunk away from them.
“Get up!” He commanded.
“I cannot.” She sighed. The captain laughed cruelly.
“Then it will be all the easier to detain you.” The riders took out their ropes and
bound her with cruel knots. They could not make her turn loose of the gem however.
The captain put his sword to her throat.
“Let it go. You are not worthy to hold it. Let it go or I will strike off your hands.”
“I maintain my innocence. You can do nothing by Togri law until sentence is
passed. The Maestros absolved me. I am Deshar Maira Esethan! Let me care for my
bond as is written in the contract.”
“Your contract is obviously broken, or you wouldn’t be standing here breathing.
Yield it up.”
“Wait.” Said a young man. “What if she speaks truth?” The captain snorted.
“Idiot. I will deal with you when we return to Tree city.”
 “But Sir . . . look at her eyes.” The captain bent close, staring into Maira’s eyes,
but he couldn’t hold the gaze. He frowned even deeper and stroked his mustache.
“Soulless. . .” he muttered. Then he renewed his grip on his sword. “That only
proves her evil. You don’t understand the bond, soldier. This only proves that she’s a
witch.” Maira looked at the gem in her hands. It was black. Deshar had not returned to
it. She knew the Togri law. She knew well that a soulless gem in the hands of its living
ryshian bond was one of the worst signs of true blasphemy.
“Forgive me, lord Caius.” She whispered and yielded the gem. The captain took
it reverently and strapped her roughly to the back of a masyth. The captain looked at her
with disgust as she struggled against her bindings. She was struck with the hilt of the
human owner’s sword. Colors swam before her eyes, joining together until her whole
world went dark.
 The floor was hard and cold; inlaid with gold and set with precious stones. Her
toes tingled as she heaved herself to a sitting position. She knew where she was. She
was in the court of ryshians. With a groan she tried to stand, but a whip drove her back
down. The courtroom was filled with jeers and hateful comments. Before her on a
pillow, Deshar’s black gem rested, guarded by half a dozen ryshians. Her back and arms
burned. As she looked, she saw that her ryshian tattoos, from her wrists to her elbows,
had been branded over with the marks of a traitor. They were fresh, and the blackened
skin crackled, letting trails of blood trickle down her arms. Her back was in the same
state, branded in the area where her name glyphs were inked. She had been unconscious
for a long time.
“So! The traitor awakes!” The bailiff bellowed. “You wake just in time, traitor.
We were just about to pass sentence upon you. The maestros have seen fit to keep you
blessedly silent during the proceedings, but it is well that you wake now.” Maira looked
past the bailiff at her side to the air marshall, Werrin Cala Ferdis, who sat at the seat of
judgement, her gray hair short and spiked, giving her a stern appearance.
“Marshall Ferdis, your grace, please, I am no traitor. Ask the Rysyth.” She
groaned, her words echoing in her bruised head.
“Silence! It has been determined by our council that you are soulless.”
“I am not. . .”she began, but realized that only a rysyth could prove that, and there
were none in sight. It was very odd indeed. “Where are the wings? Where is marshall
Werrin?” she asked, her head clearing. “Talk to your bonds, demand their presence! I
demand correct process! I demand to be held here in the temple!”
“You will be quiet and say thanks to Caius that we have not torn you apart
ourselves!” Marshall Ferdis shouted. “Our companions are mourning over this battle in
the temple at Innus and we will not bother their conciousness with the likes of you. You
will be put to the trees until they return.” Maira paled. She rose unsteadily.
“No! I demand that you reconsider! By the Council! By Caius! By Sorrith!”
Now they did jab her hard. Instinctively she growled, and the sound of it was so inhuman
that the guards backed off a pace. Marshall Ferdis came off the bench to stare her down.
“How dare you speak the names of the Maestros--you have so obviously
abandoned them that even your eyes display the absence of a soul! We should slaughter
you outright, but we are not barbarians. Count your blessings that we are civilized.”
 “You are wrong! Please. Don’t incur their wrath by sentencing me to the
platforms. I have not had a chance to plead my case! Talk to the rysyth!”
“We do not need to disturb their funeral proceedings simply to come up here for a
bite to eat. The evidence is against you. Connus found you, and he was Deshar’s mate!
When we brought you back, he was so angry that he wanted to eat you on the spot! The
rest of the rysyth convinced him to leave you alive so that we may uphold the law by the
contract you have so selfishly broken. You will be, as you wished, dragged before them
when they return. Then you may plead for your life. My judgment stands.” Her staff
came down, rapping against the stone floor.
Maira was stripped naked before her peers and injected with numerous drugs.
She knew each one. One heightened the senses, another kept her awake, another sapped
her strength, and yet another made her hallucinate. They tied her to the end of a long
pole and dragged her through the city while the citizens pelted her with food and sticks.
It was horrifying to her as the drugs began to work. The hallucinations made felt each
stick srike as if it was a screech in her ears and each cry and jeer fell like a thousand
stones on her flesh. She protested all the while, muttering prayers to the Maestros, but
they did not seem to be listening.
A masyth rider heaved her up and they deposited her on a narrow platform above
the city, on an emergent branch above the canopy. It was hundreds of feet to the city and
at least a thousand more to the forest floor itself. The rain began almost as soon as the
rider cut her bonds. He laughed.
“Enjoy the rain.” He said, and cast a waterskin at her. It was laced with the same
drugs. Her food would be similarly tainted, when it came. Each drop hit her skin like a
pellet, and they seemed to bore into her flesh. The humidity choked her and the colors
swam overhead in the clouds.
“We are sorry, you know. It pains them to watch that.” said an unfamiliar voice.
She whipped around and teetered, not quite as steady on her feet as she wanted to be yet.
There was nothing there.
“My lords?” She asked, her voice booming in her ears.
“You’d better sit down before you fall off this thing.” said the voice, “We’ve been
told of you. No, I’m not one of the maestros. I’m an immortal though, true enough. It
pains me to see how far our society has fallen. I think. . .I think I may ask to return
soon.”
“Are you one of Sorrith’s—”
“Bite your tounge mortal. I’m not one of his stinking undead army. I am Favram,
Founder of this nation. I belong to Caius.” A ghostly, middle aged man sat with his feet
dangling off the platform. She looked around at the other platforms. Maira knew this
spirit’s name, but she couldn’t believe her eyes.
“Father Togri? Is it. . .are you real?” she looked around, trying to see if others
heard or saw.
“They can’t see. They’re locked in their own tortured minds.” He sighed, as he
played with an Ullis nut. “I have appeared before you to keep you company. Caius sent
me, knowing that this might happen. I can’t affect what happens to you, but at least
you’ll not be alone.”
 “But why?” Maira sobbed. She looked at her burns and ruined tattoos, the lines
dancing off her flesh. She looked up at Favram. He had an expression of absolute
patience.
“Ah, little hero. They are only human, but I now believe that there is something. .
.wrong in the ryshians. We all knew you were in for trouble when they found you alive,
but it is troubling that they would do this. It is a dark day for my people. I am very
concerned.”
“I thought that there would be a rysyth there to validate me. . .” Favram nodded.
“Yep.” He said, “But they’re out. That is why it is troubling. The rysyth were
sent out this morning by Calla. I tried to speak to the minds of the judges, but none
would heed my voice. Only that one young private, but no one will listen to him. They
have convinced themselves of your guilt.” Favram gave her a sympathetic smile.
“But, my lord, if I am innocent, why can’t Caius just tell the rysyth to come
back?” Favram shook his head.
“It’s more complicated than you know, little one. You are unique, true, and they
watch you, but you must not be spoilt by their attentions. Believe me, they would if they
thought it was good, but there are sinister things watching as well. What good would it
do you if they came and their attentions brought a greater demon later?” he paused, “And
after that, they would have to rescue from that evil, while the world was largely ignored.
Don’t you realize that being on the material limits their perception? While they dallied
with your re-creation, all of Caln went without them.” Maira gasped. She hadn’t realized
that the Maestros were so limited. Favram scooted closer.
“They love you as they love all the faithful, but they have a whole world, all the
mysteries, and the eternal battle. . .And. . .they don’t want you to be spoilt.” Maira wept
silently, the drugs delivering their potent effect. She laid on her belly and closed her
eyes, trying desperately to clear her head of visions, but it would not clear.
“Lord Favram, how long will I be up here?” She croaked, her throat as full of
tears as her eyes.
“Can’t say. . .”
“But. . .I might die.”
“No doubt you feel that way.”
“But exposure. . .the sun. . .”she looked up. There were breaks in the clouds
already. Once the rain stopped, the sun would bake the canopy.
“Yes, the sun.” He laughed, but it wasn’t pleasant. “Let me sing an old song for
you. It’s the least I can do.”
The song ended, trailing off into crazy images and deep nightmares. Favram
stayed with her, easing her out of the worst visions, helping her eat when her arms were
too weak to lift the meager rations they fed her. In her vivid waking dreams, omryth flew
at her in formation and Deshar’s crash brought her to full consiousness more than once,
but the drugs that were laced in her rations brought her back to a drunken stupor. Favram
seemed to share these dreams, because he would hold tight to her
The ones who fed her could not see Favram. He was truly a spirit. She stared at
the intricate designs in the coin as the sun beat down on her. He helped turn her over so
the sun did not blister her too badly, but without the shade of the forest, her skin crisped
as if she were trekking naked in the Gherir. Then, the clouds would gather and the rain
would come. Maira cried out in pain as each fat drop burned like acid against her
sensitized skin.
When they finally dragged her off the platform she was insensible, babbling
incomprehensibly in several languages. They muzzled her and bound her, believing her
to be possessed. Favram left her as silently as he had appeared. Once again, she was
hauled before the council. Once again she was injected with drugs, but these were
antidotes. A great weariness overtook her as her body realized that it needed sleep. She
had lost track of the days up there, but she was sure it had been an eternity.
“Traitor Maira the oathbreaker. You will rise in the presence of the court.”
Boomed the voice of the baliff. Maira struggled to her feet. Her tongue swelled up in her
mouth, a side effect of the antidote. Normally this would not be a problem. Usually one
in her position was guilty and it was preferred that the condemned be silent. She closed
her eyes and prayed that her new abilities would reach the minds of the ryshians.
“I am not. . .guilty.” she pressed her words out telepathically, forcing them, she
hoped, into the minds of her audience. The ryshians clutched their heads as the words
burned through their skulls, dragging with them the insanity of her days atop the
platform. Some squirmed, screamed, swooned or wept. “Let me free. I do not deserve
death at your hand.” She panted with the effort, but seeing them in pain gave her
pleasure. It was a small amount of vengeance for her suffering.
The great doors of the court slammed open with a force that shook the entire
building. A huge rysyth head and shoulders entered the door, its soul gem blazing with
fury.
“Leave her alone! By Caius we will end our contracts if you harm her further!”
All the ryshians in the room trembled. To end the contracts meant death for every one.
“Why did you not say so before, Werrin?” Marshall Ferdis pleaded.
“We weren’t sure until she spoke. Connus described her as a traitor, but he was
blinded by the loss of his mate, I am sure you understand. Perhaps we were too hasty in
condemning her while we tended to the disposition of the ones we lost.” She looked at
Maira, then spoke to her alone.
“You are not human, are you. Look at me. What happened?” Maira looked into
Werrin’s soul gem.
“I cannot say cousin, but no. I am not. I have been reborn. My bond to Deshar
was absolved. Please. Free me or kill me. Just. . .don’t let them put me back up there. I
wish I could tell you, but the council of Maestros has decreed silence on the matter.”
Between them an image of her true form appeared unbidden. Werrin snorted in alarm.
“You are. . .a new master race?” Maira nodded.
“I am new. Perhaps the Maestros will tell you now that they allowed me to
reveal it to you, but the humans cannot know, not even your soulbonds.”
“But why? If you are not human, you should not be treated as one.”
“The maestros have their reasons.” Werrin nodded.
“I understand, and I believe you. I know you speak truth, though my bondmate
does not. You smell like lord Sorrith.” Maira’s hand went to her shoulder, where the seal
of Sorrith had been put.
“I belong to him. Parts of the ancient contract still applied. When Deshar died I
became Sorrith’s property despite my living mortal state.” Werrin dipped her head in
honor.
 “Sit, please. We are very sorry you had to endure this, but we will make it right.”
Werrin addressed the court, “This one is innocent of surviving Deshar’s death. Caius has
absolved her.” Mutterings of astonishment rippled through the court. Maira sat down
again, the cool stone of the floor a relief to her burned skin. The council rose up and
walked out. The ryshians watching the proceedings cowered, but the others had no clue.
They had their eyes glued on the door. Within minutes they came back in, their faces
pale.
“Very well. In light of this new evidence, you are granted your innocence and a
formal apology from this court. Medics! Tend to her. When her skin heals, have the
necessary marks applied to her back.”
“No.” Werrin said sternly. “You humans have done enough. We will tend to her.
It is our failing that caused the court to detain her, but it was your impatience to see her
dead that put her to the trees and branded her cruelly. You should have detained her in
the temple without further action.”
“We have given our apology. Maira understands. After all, she is the first
absolution in our history, but there have been many, many betrayals. We are only
human.” Maira nodded, understanding. Calla was right.
“Thank you, your grace.” Maira bowed. “I do understand, but how can you erase
this. . .mistake?” She displayed her burned body. More muttering issued from the
bystanders. Slowly, she tottered out, not allowing any human to touch her. She fell into
Werrin’s arms and passed out.
_______________________________________________
She woke slowly, surrounded by moist moss in a carefully piled nest. She was in
her true form, a blessed relief. Around her, several rysyth moaned in pain as others
tended to their burns and breaks. She was loathing leaving her dreams behind, filled with
breathtaking rides and formation drills with Deshar.
“Wake up, cousin, it is no good that you remain in your dreams.” A gentle voice
rumbled in Rysir.
“But Deshar. . .” she moaned in the same language, sitting up. She was given a
meal of raw fish and herbs. She consumed it greedily, relishing the taste of untainted
food. It had a few herbs that she had never tasted before. She looked up into a huge face
she did not recognize.
“You speak Rysir? But how?” clicked the strange rysyth.
“I just. . .can. I understood it from being ryshian, but now that I’m no longer
human. . .” she licked the bits of food off her fingers. “What is in this?”
“Nothing a human can eat. Those herbs are for our benefit, they are poisonous to
humans. That you eat them safely only reinforces that you have become a child of Caln.
Why do the Maestros hide your form? You changed the moment we went underwater.”
“Humans.” Maira shrugged, as if that explained things. Her nurse gave her a
sharp nod.
“Indeed.” He said. “I am Berang. You are Deshar Maira.”
“No. I. . .Deshar. . .” Berang’s gem reflected pure grief.
“Excuse me. . .cousin.”
“It is just Maira now. I have no other name anymore, as a ryshian to share her
name, or as a human to carry the surname of my human mother.” Berang helped Maira
stand, which relieved her. Bits of moss stuck to her burns, which were swollen and
sticky. Berang dumped cool water on her, helping clean off.
“We healed you magically as much as we dared, but the energy required of you to
be healed was too great. You were very weak.”
“Thank you.” She said quietly.
“It is nothing. Your humans treated you badly. It was our fault that they were
allowed. Never before have we lost so many of the bonded in one battle. We allowed our
grief to overwhelm us.”
“I understand. I would have been just as hasty.” She sighed.
“It would be easier to treat your burns if you could breathe water. We weren’t
sure. To get you here you had to come through the water gate, but you were never under
longer than a ryshian’s tolerance could handle.”
“I can.” Maira said. Without another word, Berang picked her up and dumped
her in a deep pool of fresh water. Her first lungs full of water choked her a bit, but she
had no trouble. There were other rysyth under water as well, napping and healing from
horrid burns. “What is this place?”
“Oh, this is a hidden place of healing. When we are sorely wounded beyond our
abilities to heal we come here instead of Innus. We are on an island, far out to sea. This
is a natural freshwater spring. It has healing properties, and the whole place is dedicated
to Lemari, just like the one in Arynstar. No human drinks from it and lives. I don’t
pretend to understand, but since you are a child of Caln, you can benefit from this place.”
“I wish Deshar was here. This is a lovely place.” Berang hung his head.
“I know. Those you see here were all wounded in the recent attacks. It seems that
the apostate king has hired the Omryth to his armies. Some, like you, got attacked on
patrol but there’s an entire wing here that was attacked while scouting in the Gherir for
this year’s masyth trade route.” Maira nodded.
“It is a grave sign that they allied with the Omryth, but the Masyth trade keeps the
Togri nation supplied.” She sighed, looking at her burned flesh, watching with
amazement as what remained of her injuries healed before her eyes.
“You would still trade with that foul human city? Do you not honor the memory
of Deshar’s death?” Maira looked away in shame.
“I am surprised you do not know, but since I have never seen you before, perhaps
you don’t know how things work in the Togri nation. We have little choice. There are
things we require that the forest cannot provide: stuff that we can build and fight with like
iron and malleable metals, clay, straw, and stone. The trade will have to continue. Oh, I
would love to stomp Arynstar flat for allowing those foul creatures a place in the armies
of man, but that is a war we are not prepared to fight now. Not after these latest battles. I
fear their numbers. Ryshians have been in decline. . .” She looked at the nearest Rysyth,
shivering in the throes of a dream. His face was mutilated beyond recognition, even in
the waters of the blessed spring, his wounds had not healed. Berang followed her gaze.
“That is Ardet, poor soul. We led him here, but it was too late for our magic. He
will live out his few remaining days with us. His rider, Ardet Leon Ullindir, was killed in
the same battle that cost you Deshar.” My heart leaped into my throat.
“Ardet?” I asked. The sleeping rysyth lifted his head. Ardet had been Deshar’s
nestmate. “By the council. . .why did they let you live?” His eyes were bound and
packed with medicinal herbs. She wondered how he had made it to this place.
 “Deshar Maira. . .” he said softly. “I saw you fall, you and Deshar. You smell
like Lord Sorrith. Have I died, Maira? Where is my sister?”
“She is gone, dearest wing brother. You are still alive.” He stretched his neck out,
reaching for her with his head.
“You are not a spirit. You are something. . .else. Blast my eyes, if that omryth
hadn’t got me square in the face. . .what has happened? Is it really Maira? You don’t
smell quite human.”
“Yes, it’s me. You’ll know very soon.” Maira swam down and stroked Ardet’s
gums. He was missing quite a few teeth. He rumbled deep in his chest, the rysyth
indication of pleasure.
“I am waiting, waiting, and I hurt Maira. Even this spring will not heal me. I am
as the dead. When will the court of Innus release me to die? Have you heard? I cannot
survive like this. Why are you alive and Leon is not?”
“You will see. I belong to Sorrith now.” Ardet opened his mouth wide. Maira
began scratching his tongue.
“Ah, so fate has treated you as cruelly as they have treated me. . .Or am I
dreaming. . .It all makes no sense.” Maira pat his hard palate.
“It will make sense soon, when you see the beautiful face of Sorrith.” She said,
reassuringly.
“Beautiful? That is not what I see in my mind. I see a human body, a skeletal
figure robed in crimson. I see him even though I am blind, but he is gone when I look.”
“That is because you still live, dear one.”
“Take me to him. When I am asleep I can see Leon, always waiting. He is
radiant and beckoning, but I cannot yet follow.”
“The Innus council just finished their funeral proceedings. You should receive
your final herbs soon.” Berang said solemnly. Ardet sighed.
“Good. Soon I will be there. They are waiting for me, I just know. I can’t wait
for the final feast in Sorrith’s hall before we travel to Caius’s lands. Does Deshar wait for
you, Maira?” the question choked her.
“No.” she said thickly. “She will not go to Caius’s lands, and she cannot wait for
me. She is in Sorrith’s wing now.”
“Ah. How cruel that you are parted, yet I know that you are blessed. I can smell
it.” Ardet sighed once more. “Blessed sister. I will tell her of you when I go.”
“Thank you.” Ardet put his head down once more.
“I will rest now. My dreams call me.” His wings twitched as he stretched out on
the sandy bottom. Maira swam up, closer to the surface, and closer to Berang, though she
stayed completely under.
“He can sleep easier now. You will probably be back in tree city soon. I’ll fly
you there myself. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other patients to tend to.
 Part 2

Interrim--------------
Maira missed the caravan that year, recovering in the shelter of the island. There,
she was not only allowed to heal mentally and physically, but to grieve over Deshar and
get used to her own new body. She stayed there for over a year, until the council at Innus
determined that it was best that she returned to life among humans. Once outside the
shelter of the island, she reverted to human form. While she was there, the memories of
her rebirth faded from her mind, just as Caius said they would.
Back in Tree City, she was not received warmly. Her tattoos marked her as an
oathbreaker, though the marks applied over them told the truth of her absolution. People
who saw her either revered her as a holy woman or as little more than a tolerated
outsider, though they had to allow her back into society. Still, it pained her to go into the
temple of Caius, with all the memory it held. She found herself drifting away from
society more and more, returning to her traditional job of herding masyth, but she was not
invited on the yearly caravans. Too many people mistrusted her and over the years they
tended to remember her imprisonment more than her pardon.
Over time, however, the temple of Caius, though they never discovered that she
was not human, finally divined that the only way she could be alive without her bond
would be if Caius had spoken to her directly, and she was granted an apprentice by the
temple to learn the ways of masyth herding—one of the tasks that ryshians were required
to do. They wanted her in the temple itself, but Maira refused. The Marshall, Calla
Ferdis, was always there, and despised her with a blind passion., and being around
ryshians always made her sad. Still, her wisdom was recognized when they sent her the
apprentice.
Her name was Aliyah Tallim, a bitter surname for Maira to accept. She was dark
haired and dusky skinned like all the Togri, with a strong face that reminded her of
Rishaud. Rishaud Tallim was bonded to Connus. At one time, she had considered
marrying him, but that was impossible now. Aliyah was his firstborn. She was ten years
old, and devoted to the path of a Ryshian. She idolized her father, and it took a long time
for Maira to gain her trust. She was young and full of hope, though there had been no
willing Rysyth in five years. Every night at her evening prayers, she prayed that she
would be chosen before her fifteenth birthday—the age of majority in Togri society and
the last year that a human could be chosen. Never, in all the time she had been a child of
Caln, had Maira wished to reveal herself to a human. She wanted to bond with her and
help her onto Caius’s plan of salvation, but knew that it was quite impossible since she
belonged to Sorrith..
 Aliyah grew to love Maira as her master and teacher in the ways of a ryshian. Her
father was not so happy, never trusting her with her daughter, always petitioning the
temple to remove Aliyah from Maira’s tutelage. Every time, the temple refused,
reminding him that Maira was absolved and had quite probably met the Maestro face to
face. Maira was wise enough not to confirm that. She knew quite well that if that fact
was confirmed, she would be declared a prophet, and would never again be able to leave
Tree City.
In Aliyah’s fifteenth year, thirty years after Maira’s transformation, the caravan
master fell ill. Maira, as the head of the herders, was chosen to go in his place. Finally,
she would get to travel to Arynstar. Now that she was given leave to go, Sorrith’s
promise rang in her ears, climbing out of the depths of her memory to remind her to look
for his Enlisted.
Chapter 1:
Arynstar. . .the bright city of human achievement. Long ago, this was the only
refuge for humankind during the time that the Maestros warred with humankind. It was
built around another of Lemari’s natural springs—just like the rysyth healing place.
Though the water had been poisoned against them, one man found a way to bypass the
poison. He planted fruit trees. The wood of these trees absorbed the poison, and the
spring’s properties manifested in the fruit. These fruits insured long life and health for
the humans who ate them—the only place on Caln where the natural magic actually
benefited true humans. Unfortunately, greed limited the supply to only a few families.
These were the royal families, and chief among them was the Apostate king.
Mythology says that he is an ancient king, never dying, living exclusively off of
the fruits of the eternal orchard. Upon that myth, he lays claim to a sizable church and a
pantheon of supporting deities.
Togri legend does not teach this. They know, though the citizens of Arynstar do
not, that the king does die, but foul arcane practices drive each king’s memory into the
mind of the next heir along with his appearance. In a way it is immortality, but at the cost
of the human’s soul. Long ago, the Togri nation broke off when the first king devised this
method. The Togri family—proud worshippers of caius-- would not be a part of the
king’s mad plan, and so were pursued across the Gherir, into the forest of origin. There,
the Rysyth protected them.
It was this legend that played in Maira’s mind as she waited in line at the gold
inlaid gates of Arynstar, her Masyth herd huddled around her and her assistant, Alyiah.
These were all males. The Togri nation hid the females carefully. They were a short
lived bunch anyhow, the 6-8 babies were born live by chewing out of the mother’s belly
and consuming her as their first meal, but even one female in the hands of a nation
dedicated to the omryth could mean the end of a livelihood and the beginning of trouble
for the Togri.
Coming to Arynstar was an arduous journey which had to be done without rysyth
now that the omryth controlled the desert skies. From the forest, they had to navigate the
three passes of the Rystooth mountains and cross half the wasted expanse of the Gherir—
a vast and inhospitable desert. The merchants and their goods could not be carried the
whole way by air anymore because of the omryth, so even the masyth were forced to
walk the desert once everything had been transported over the forest.
 A human could see the city from miles away, its golden minarets and domes and
its whitewashed stucco walls glittering in the sun. Getting in was more difficult. The
city controlled and taxed the merchants as they came in the gate each morning. She
was not alone either. The merchants and accountants of Tree city followed behind in
their caravan, knowing that without the Masyth, the fees would be exorbitant for the
simple fact that they did not worship the king or the demon pantheon. It was not only her
task to auction off the masyth, but to pay the taxes and stall fees.
The guards served as they always did: accepting payment, stating the laws,
suggesting a conversion instead of paying taxes and marking off the goods and services.
As it came time for their turn in front of the guards, Alyiah put a small horn to her
lips and blew a sharp note. All of the merchants with them took off their robes and stood
topless, dressed in nothing but their loose desert pants. The women wore chest bindings,
but these were very Spartan affairs. Every one of them bore an intricate tattoo on their
back, as was Togri custom. Each tattoo displayed the individuals name and history in the
Togri language and symbology. In this way, the Togri had documented their people’s
history. The guards at the gate of the city found this very convenient, because none of the
Togri people were ever confused with another.
This year, the guards were fully armored even in the heat of the day. their swords
were clean and sharp and their pikes glistened in the desert sun. With the boredom that
comes with repetitive tasks they searched through belongings, tallied each person’s goods
and belongings and droned the seemingly endless litany of regulations.
“Deshar Maira Esethan, we haven’t seen you in years. Welcome to Arynstar, long
live the God King.” there was a horrible, uncomfortable pause as the guard expected a
reply. When he did not receive it, he cleared his throat.
“Well then. If you are not aware of the new restrictions in place, let me inform
you. The king, may he live forever, has added a few more rules this year. You are to
surrender all holy relics and artifacts unless they are blessed by the true gods of Arynstar.
You are also to surrender weapons and illegal animals.” he looked around. “I do not see
your rysyth, and that is well. Doubtless you’ve heard the king’s decree concerning them.
He will no longer tolerate them in his lands and he will persue any who trespass.”
Everyone in the Togri caravan bristled at this statement. Aliyah and Maira
exchanged glances. Both knew that it was truly the Omryth and their cursed riders that
demanded that particular rule. Suddenly, the captain of the guard snagged Maira’s arm.
He squinted, reading the glyphs on her back.
“Hey. . .you’re an oathbreaker.” he said with astonishment, only half
understanding what he was reading. “Tell you what. Your gods are a load of bunk. Bow
down right here and join the church of Arynstar and you can go in with your weapons and
a generous discount.”
“Watch it captain. Our people would never bow to a mortal king and a pack of
demons.” At hearing this some of the guards, who had been lounging in what little shade
they could find, stood and encircled Maira. Members of the caravan went for their
swords and daggers.
“Easy now, I’m not looking for a fight at the gate. I am just offering you a chance
to fly again. I know enough about your nasty religion to know that oathbreakers are
cursed by your gods. I know a member of the air corps. He can get you in with—“
 “How dare you ask me to fly an Omryth.” Maira’s emotionless eyes narrowed
and she scowled. “You know nothing of us. We do not worship just any gods, but the
Maestros, the true gods of Caln.” All the masyth bellowed and snorted. “Just tell us the
fee unbeliever.” maira said darkly. The captain flinched and shuddered. The guards
surrounding them strengthened their grips on their hilts. The man quoted an outrageous
price. Maira laughed in his face.
“You might as well ask for the moons. I won’t pay that.” The captain set his jaw.
“Well then, I cannot help you. Pay it or convert. That is your choice.”
“But that is outrageous! That’s almost all of our profit. How dare you.”
“Sorry ma’am. That is the king’s decree.”
“Well then, we’ll just have to go home.” Maira sighed, “You will have to report
to the king that the masyth won’t be sold this year because the city guard wishes to extort
the only masyth dealer on an annual caravan.” the guard frowned. Maira knew that even
allied with the Omryth, the air corps needed masyth. Omryth, like rysyth, bonded a rider
as its servant. Masyth were under human control. Putting his fingers to his lips, the
captain whistled sharply. A gaunt young man with empty blue eyes marched up and
saluted the captain. He did not seem to be affected by the heat.
“Very well. I see your point. Well, I can’t just let you off, the king’s decrees still
stand.” he quoted a lower price. Maira set her jaw stubbornly.
“I’m sorry, I just can’t. . .”
“Please do. It’s as low as I can ask from an infidel, a traitor to humankind and our
gods.” Maira looked into his eyes and read truth, though the price and the reason made
her sick to her stomach. She nodded and paid it—enough gold and spices to supply half a
village for a full year and three of the best masyths from the herd. It was at least triple
the normal cost.
“You tell your king that this will be the last time.”
“Whatever you like, just get out of my sight and stay out of trouble. You can file
a formal complaint like any other merchant. Lieutenant Avarain, confiscate their
contraband and their weapons and escort these infidel merchants to their usual places.”
“Yes Sir.” The lieutenant instructed his men to search everyone. the process took
well over an hour. When they were finally escorted into the city, all the Togri were in a
foul mood.
Through the golden gates, the city’s buildings rose up high enough to block most
of the sun at any time but noon. Still, the air was uncomfortably hot and dry, and every
breeze bore a silty grit that invaded every wrinkle in flesh and clothing. Maira walked
into the city, leading the masyth. Avarain walked beside her, watching her closely.
“What are you watching?” Maira growled. “I can’t do anything to you.” Avarain
frowned.
“I’m looking at your shoulder, infidel. Have you been to the deep Gherir?”
Maira knit her brows
“Why?” he lifted his right sleeve. There, emblazoned on his right shoulder, was
the sigil of Sorrith, the same one that he had put upon Aleene. Maira paled.
“I received this from the desert tribe of Yakoko when I saved their lives from a
group of bandits. That was fifteen years ago.”
“Don’t you know what that is?” Maira asked. She could hardly believe her eyes.
How can this unbeliever be a servant of Sorrith? she wondered.
 “I’m assuming it’s some sort of warrior symbol.” he said, tracing the lines of the
sigil. “The Yakoko are a simple people. They rewarded my efforts by making me an
honorary member of their tribe.” he frowned. “It looks so wonderful, but nobody seems
to see it. I thought. . .I thought maybe you knew more about it seeing as how you’ve got
a similar mark.” Maira bristled with anger.
“Lieutenant Avarain, I know what that symbol is, but I would like to tell you over
the evening meal. It is better that way. I can tell you’re a good soul, and I would love to
hear of your Yakoko tribe.” Avarain smiled.
“Thank you. I think I will do that. I have been hoping someone would see it for
years. I hesitated to find out about it for myself. . .I mean it’s just not safe for an officer
of the King’s guard to be insisting that there is a mark upon his flesh that is seemingly
invisible. I’m not keen to be sent to the inquisition.”
“I understand.” Maira said. Avarain helped them get settled in their places. Maira
paid him quietly for helping.
The masyth didn’t like the city. Arynstar is a place of sand, bone, and stone.
There were no plants save in the periodic, carefully tended gardens that were kept in the
plazas. The masyth had never seen completely inorganic structures. The auction stalls
were cramped and dusty, and the available food was not always fresh. The edicts of the
city prevented them from renting rooms in a local inn, so they were forced to sleep with
the Masyth. The place was too crowded to set up the desert tents. Maira and Aliyah had
little trouble with this arrangement, but the merchants were sick with the idea that they
were to be accommodated like beasts. Maira calmed their tempers and counseled
patience as she purchased bolts of canvas to make small, makeshift tents.
In the evening, just after sunset, Avarain appeared in the stockyards.
“Hello?” he called, standing at the gate to the masyth pens. Maira stood, dusting
off her pants.
“Lieutenant. You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here. We paid our fees. We
have a right to be here. What do you want to impose on us now?” he looked shocked
and hurt. She winked at him. “Play along. We are watched. Speak what you will in
your mind as if you wished me to hear it.” she said telepathically, knowing that he would
be able to hear through his sigil. Her eyes flicked to the rooftops. Deep in the shadows, a
man crouched, watching the market from the top of the inn. His eyes got wide as he
heard Maira’s mental directive.
“Just what are you? What are you doing to me?” he cleared his throat. “I am
inspecting these structures. Why are you erecting these things on the King’s property? I
see all of your people making similar things in their stalls.” he pointed at the half sewn
pieces of canvas. Alyiah stopped her work.
“Well we wouldn’t be making them if you’d let us stay in that inn over there!”
Aliyah pointed at the well lit establishment across from the stockyards.
“Silence, apprentice.” Maira barked. Aliyah sat back down. Maira crossed her
arms. “She is right though. This is brutally unfair. We paid three times what these others
paid. We deserve more than this.” Avarain shook his head.
“Well, If you’d only bow to the God King, you would be granted all the services
you could ask for. We would apply what you have already paid to give you the elite
treatment deserving of our most honored guests.”
 “Can you hear me? If you can, meet me at the Withered branch. Go north three
plazas and left four. I will be in the stable. If anyone asks, tell them you are treating an
injured masyth there. The guy who owns it is my uncle, though I hate him.”
“I’ll never renounce the Maestros. Neither will my people. We know who the
real Gods are.”
“We shall see. I notice that you are comfortable enough in the open, but I am not
so sure that the others of your caravan are so tolerant. You can’t really speak for the
hearts of everyone, you know.”
“I can hear you. Will there be one there?” Avarian nodded.
“There is. My uncle uses a broken old pair for rent—cantankerous old
campagners who are permanently grounded.”
“That’s awful. I’ll be there.” Maira said. “No, but I can sure guess. If any
abandon the Maestros, I’ll kill them myself.”
“Well. I’ve got to tell you that these structures, these tents, clutter the streets and
take up space that could be used for other goods. I’ll have to collect a building tax for
them.”
“Get out! By all that is holy, if you don’t leave I will have my masyth tear you to
ribbons! A curse on your taxes and your laws can rot in the lowest depths of Pathir!” she
screamed. There was an edge of an undertone too low for a human. Perhaps the man on
the roof didn’t hear it, but Avarain did. He backed up a few paces, his hand on the sword.
“Infidel! You are only lucky that the king needs your beasts! Otherwise you
would pay and pay until you were forced into the undercity as a debtor!” “What are you?
possessed? Immortal?”
“Neither. Go.” she raised her fist “How dare you threaten me. I am not one of
your weak-minded citizens. I am a Togri warior!”
“Meet me at midnight there. I have to be up before dawn, but I can’t sleep
anymore anyway. Will you tell me why?”
“Yes, and more. Just go. See? he pulls away.”
“He is an inquisitor. Someone must have overheard your invitation. Be silent
and stealthy as you travel the streets.”
“Thank you.” Maira said, and Avarain stomped away as if angry.
“Lady Maira, what is wrong with him?” Alyiah asked.
“Nothing.” Maira said. “Just be quiet. Next time, keep your thoughts to
yourself. I feel as if this whole city wishes to kill us.” Maira sat down, cursing herself
for losing her temper.
“Lady?”
“Yes?”
“What did you do to your voice? You sounded like a Rysyth just now.” Maira
swallowed as her mouth suddenly went dry.
“You didn’t hear anything.” Maira said quietly. “I just. . . we’re both hot and
tired, and I lost my temper.” Alyiah sat back, staring at her knees and her needle, still
stuck in the canvas.
“Can I sleep, Lady? I feel a little ill. I think I may have got too much sun.”
Maira looked her seriously.
“Drink some water. It has been a hard day. Go ahead and turn in. No one would
dare try and filch the masyth, and they seem fairly settled.” Aliyah nodded and threw the
canvas over the empty stall. It covered the top, but not the sides. She spread out her
blanket and took a drink from the trough before she curled up. Maira waited, watching
Aliyah closely. It was not long before she was breathing evenly. Quietly, she slipped on
her robes and grabbed her herb kit. When the watcher on the nearest minaret shouted
midnight and began a prayer to the demon god Thrass, Maira quietly left the stockyards.
The streets were mostly deserted, but she kept to the shadows anyway. Not that
the shadows were much safer in a city that worshipped demons, but it gave her peace of
mind, even as she prayed for the awareness to spot anything natural or unnatural. When
she arrived at the stable of the Withered Branch her heart broke. Two decrepit Masyth
moaned in their stalls, their scaled hides loaded with unshed skin.
“Oh, you poor beasts.” Maira came up to the nearest of the two. His mottled
hide was laden with scars upon scars. The tarnished plaque on his head read Vress. The
second one read Argus. Maira set about caring for them immedietly.
“Well, well. Have you forgotten?” Avarain was dressed as a stablehand, but he
could not play the part very well. While he was as thin as a waif, he stood far to straight.
“Aren’t you afraid of being caught here?”
“Nah. here. I swiped it from the kitchens. It’s a cinder girl’s dress, but it’ll do.
We’ll just be a couple of servants tossing about in the back.”
“But the stableman?”
“Not a problem. I drugged his beer.” he winked. Maira cocked her head.
“you’re awfully shady for a king’s officer.” Avarain shrugged.
“Ah, what can I say. I got promoted when I came back from the desert. I was an
orphan until my da, that’s the brother of the guy who owns this place, adopted me.. Stole
my daily bread and everything. Had a run in or two with the guard, they threatened me
with a cozy hovel in the undercity, but the Cap’n, well, he liked me. He adopted me until
I grew old enough to jion the Gherir scouts and clear my name. That’s where I ran into
Yakoko. That was fifteen years ago, like I said. How can you talk into my mind?”
“I am not human.” Maira said, her hands trembling as she admitted it. “Let us
talk like this. What I have to confess to you would be inappropriate for itchy ears.”
“Agreed. What have you to say?” Maira shook her head
“you first. How did you earn that?”
“Well. . .Like I said. Bandits. We had been on the trail of a whole pack of them.
They were at least thrice our number, which was very odd for the desert. We tracked
them down one night to a nomadic tribe, where they were stopping to extort the people
and steal Drami.” Maira nodded. Drami were a huge desert-dwelling wingless lizard
that the desert people bred as beasts of labor. They were true beasts, with no intelligence
like the rysyth or even the simplistic masyth. “So, we got them. My lieutenant charged
the group while it was busy with the Yakoko. Then, well, it’s sort of all a blur. I was a kid
on my first trip out into the deep Gherir. The battle was fierce. I remember hacking and
slashing, fighting side by side with Yakoko infidels until the sand was red with blood.
Finally, I remember standing on the battlefield, wounded, and my comrades in arms were
all dead. Every last one of the company had been slaughtered. I surveyed the scene, my
wounds trickling blood down my arms and legs, when the Yakoko Shaman--I couldn’t
understand them back then—handed me a black gem. I accepted it as a gift, and looked
at it dumbly. I watched the swirls of purple inside and realized with numb appraisal that
he had handed me an artifact of some sort. It seemed to please him, because he invited
me into the tribe when I would have killed myself and joined my company in death.” He
sat in the straw pile of the loft as Miara continued doctoring the masyth. “There was a
huge party that night. Apparently, that bandit tribe had been terrorizing all the smaller
tribes for years. I didn’t care much. I was planning to find my way back to Arynstar
before these savages decided to eat me. They do, you know. They eat their dead and
their enemies.” he shuddered. Maira was slightly sickened as well.
“That’s horrible.” Maira said aloud. “We at least feed them to our masyth or
deliver them up to the rysyth or the Maestros.”
“Yes, yes. The Togri aren’t as savage as these tribes out here.” that statement
piqued Maira’s anger, but it was no use arguing the point to this man.
“Go on.”
“Well, as I was saying, it was the weirdest thing. They all seemed to be honoring
me for something. I thought they were either thanking me for killing the bandits or they
were going to slaughter me and feast on me. They certainly went out of their way to feed
me their meager food stores, though I was hesitant to eat the meat. At the height of the
celebration, the shaman appeared once more. Quietly, as the tribe’s women danced
around the fire and the men drank their strange concoction of drami blood and camel
milk, the shaman indicated with hand sign that I should show them the gem. I took it out
of my pack and they cheered. I tried to give it to the shaman, but he pressed it back to
me. Instead, the shaman’s helpers brought forth an intracately carved stone bowl filled
with a more of that strange brew. He demanded that I drink it. I took it to my lips and
drained it, despairing for my life.” Maira sucked in a sharp breath.
“I know. I thought it was poisoned too, but I woke up the next morning and I was
healed of all my wounds. Nothing hurt anymore, except that I was violently ill. Once I
was finished relieving myself, I felt much better.
“You’re an honorary Yakoko now. Thank you for killing those bandits. When the
sun sets we will take you home.” the shaman was speaking, but I could understand him.
I’m sure I said something about that to him, but he only laughed. “You’re Yakoko now.
You understand because you are one of us.” I had a slight feeling that he wasn’t telling
the whole truth. Still, they brought me home, but things were never the same after that. I
found that I did not need food, water, or sleep any longer. When I ate, I was always
violently ill soon after. It was accepted in the beginning as a consequence of being out in
the desert too long, but soon I had to find ways to disguise my. . .problems. I think I have
done well at this, until I saw your symbol. There were other problems too. . .personal
problems.” Maira’s eyebrows went up. “Well, infidel, I told you my story. Now you tell
me why I am this way, and why you stand here claiming you’re not human.”
Maira stretched and climbed the ladder to the loft, sitting in the soft straw. her
sigil tingled uncomfortably. She could tell Avarain felt his as well, because he was
absentmindedly scratching it as if it itched.
“Well, I only admitted it because you’re not human either.” Avarain scooted back
further into the straw.
“Impossible. How dare you.” he hissed. Maira shushed him.
“You are dead, Avarain. You’ve been dead these fifteen years.” Avarain shook his
head in open disbelief.
“But. . .I would have known.” Maira smiled. She reached out and touched
Avarain’s arm.
 “Give him your blood, Maira.” said a booming voice in her head.
“Maestro Sorrith.” she groaned as she clutched it, his prescence overwhelming
her. Avarain did not seem to be affected, but instead, the light of truth sparked in his eyes
as lord Sorrith spoke to him. He took his dagger from his belt and lunged at Maira,
slicing the tender skin of her wrists. Before she could get away or fight back, he was
latched on and sucking blood. It took all the fortitude she had not to scream at this
horrifying sight and expose both of them.
“Peace, Maira. I know it hurts to hear me. You are mortal. When we first met,
you were new, but now you are once again like all others. Only my sigil keeps you
from perishing in my prescence.”
“My Lord, help!” she tried not to wrench her wrist from Avarain’s grasp, but she
tugged anyway.
“Stop struggling. He will not take it all. Avarain is one of my undead
servants, as you have guessed. Among those who worship me, giving blood to the
enlisted is an honor. They can’t consume anything else. This poor lad has been
starving for fifteen years.”
Avarain stopped sucking and wiped his mouth.
“I. . .never worhipped you.” Avarain growled. Sorrith’s laughter grated on
Maira’s mind.
“Untill now, he has been my spy. He doesn’t remember his transition because I
struck it from his memory. I allowed his blasphemous worship so that he could blend
in perfectly. Now, his time is up. He must go down to his brethren in the undercity.”
Now Avarain was clutching his head and crying, but tears did not leak from his eyes.
“All this time. . .I abandoned the king. Curse you infidel, I wish I had never seen
you.” He moaned. “Look. . .look at me. Oh gods. . .” he displayed his arms, then patted
his chest. He looked no different.
“He is under a spell. His appearance is the same as the day he died, but that
will fade now. Like you, he has been hidden from humans. In the undercity however,
he will be cared for. My temple is in C district. You must go there. He knows the way.
Take your apprentice with you.”
“My lord, why. . .”
“You have a week to carry out my request.” his presence left us so quickly that it
felt like being punched in the head.
“Wait! Why Aliyah?” Maira said, dread seeping into her heart. She suddenly
wanted to return to the stockyard, but she knew her first duties were to Avarain.
“I remember now. I remember everything.” he stared at his hands. “I met him. .
.that night.” he said bitterly. “All this time. . .” he seemed somewhat defeated. Maira
put her arm around Avarain, feeling the dessicated flesh despite his living appearance.
“Well cousin, I’m glad to have met you. You can maybe swing a deal or two
before you show us down.” Avarian smiled.
“I wish I could. Sorry about that. The king’s been crazy lately, giving his full ear
to the omryth riders.. Nasty, filthy , soulless bastards, every one of them and their
mounts.”
“They are a corruption.” Maira growled.
“I know. I’ve been fortunate enough to avoid them. Oh gods, if they had smelled
me. . .” he shuddered. “Let me escort you back.”
 “Not worried about the night watch and the inquisition?”
“Not anymore. Even if they capture me, there’s not much they can do. I’m
already dead. Sorrith told me he knows the disposition of every one of us. I know now
that he will recall me if I come under the inquisition. My career under the king is over. I
don’t want to report for duty even one more day. They make us recite the litany of the
immortal king every morning.
“Well then, you can stay with us. The guards aren’t protecting us this year, the
bastards.”
“I’m sorry about that, I truly am, but they are at the mercy of a higher power as
well.”
Maira finished doctoring the masyth, but there was little more she could do. They
were old and broken from years of war. They deserved a swift death or the chance to live
their lives grazing, not chained to a cruel innkeeper who used them like Drami. Avarain
pat Argus’s side and samiled very seriously.
“I can arrange for an. . .accident.” Maira shook her head sadly.
“Avarain, they’re a slave race. They belong to whoever owns them. We have no
right to kill them, but what I have done should ease their service.”
“I do have a right. I’m still a guard. I have authority in the city. I know they
belong to my uncle, but he treeeats them badly. Da told me once that they served in
battle thirty years ago, and should have gone to graze, but they slipped through the cracks
when the drought hit. I know you want them to die, so if you don’t mind. . .” he took out
his dagger. Maira stayed his hand.
“No. You can do that later. Tomorrow even. Do it here and they will suspect me.
These herbs are as fresh as I could manage. I bought bundles before I left Tree City.” He
looked at the poultices and unguents coating the beasts and sighed.
“I see your point. Very well, let it be tomorrow.” they slipped silently into the
shadows of the street. Once Avarain had seen Maira to the stockyards, he returned into
the shadows, gone even to Maira’s night vision. She crawled onto her blanket next to
Aliyah. The girl didn’t stir.
Maira got up at dawn. Aliyah did not. The girl was cold and clammy to the
touch, and though she woke to Maira’s gentle shaking, was achy and sluggish. She threw
up her meager breakfast. Maira frowned and made her drink more water before sending
her back to bed. Having Aliyah sick was not a good thing. She needed Aliyah to set the
masyth with their rightful owners after the auctions. As it was, she had to do the whole
business by herself. There were only twelve to sell now that three had to go to the guard.
five would go to the Arynstar Air Corps, but the rest went to very wealthy citizens. The
morning began with the Major General of the air corps. He was a blustery man,
thoroughly devoted to king and pantheon. He had clear blue eyes and freckled skin, the
mark of royal blood. He strutted self-importantly as he walked the line of masyth,
picking or rejecting one after the other, all the while commenting that this year’s batch
was so inferior as to be good for nothing but cartwork. By the time he was finished,
people were already milling about in the auction arena. She managed to get Aliyah up for
the auction, and though the girl was dizzy and ill, she did her job. After that, she went
back to her blanket. Maira sat beside her, putting a wet rag on Aliyah’s forehead.
 “You did get too much sun. Aliyah, your skin looks like mine did after a week’s
exposure on the platform. Damn those new edicts. our wait wouldn’t have been so long
if they had just let us in .
“Maira. . .” she whispered. “I’m going to die.” Maira stroked aliyah’s hair.
“No. Not yet. This will heal.” she said gently, handing Aliyah more water.
Aliyah drank it and closed her eyes once more. Maira sat back and prayed for her,
pleading for recovery before the grueling trip home, praying that this was not why he
asked for her, but dreading that it was so. The heat of the day made Maira drowsy, and
she too napped, dreaming, as she always did, of wearing her true form.
“Is she ill? Is it sickness?” said a concerned voice outside the canvas stall, jolting
Maira awake. She realized that her nap had cost her most of the day, and she cursed.
Aliyah was moaning and twitching beside her, in the throes of a fever dream. Maira
poked her head out. A citizen was watching them with a concerned expression, staring
down his ample nose with his blue eyes and scratching his sandy hair. He was lightly
dressed, with netting sleeves of royal blue trimmed in gold—the colors of the king’s
church. He was a priest of the church of Arynstar. Maira stood, staring the man in the
eyes. He dropped his gaze.
“You are the one the people call the soulless infidel. I see now that the stories
are true. Your eyes are as glass.” he said sternly. “The gods have eaten your soul,
perhaps? Is that girl ill or under a curse?”
“I won’t talk about it with you.” Maira said sternly. “Your apostate king did this
to her. She has sun sickness from waiting for your blasted guards to try and extort us.
Unless you can give us a cool shelter like a decent human, then you may leave. My
people will not remain long in your city.” the priest’s eyes went wide.
“We have salve—“
“I’ll not risk her immortal soul for a mortal cure. I have cloth and water, and a
few herbs in my masyth pack that work on humans. You can take your king’s religion
and throw it into the depths of Pathir.” Calmly, the priest took out a tiny jar.
“I did not insult you, Togri warrior. I was merely concerned that you had brought
plague into our city. You perhaps misunderstood my intent. I understand that the soulless
Omryth riders have the same problem.”
“I have nothing in common with those cursed bastards. If they bother you, then
slay them. They will do no less for this city.” The priest shook his head.
“They are forgiven under the king’s decrees, though I understand your loathing
for them. The decrees of a God cannot be understood by an infidel such as you.” he
leaned in, his eyes darting about. “Calm yourself, child. We are aware that the guards
handled you rather roughly. Let this salve be a gift to your apprentice. We only ask that
you tell her who granted it.” Maira smiled darkly.
“And just how did you know to bring such medicine?”
“Our church cares for humans. The gods would not be known as the pantheon of
man of they were not concerned for them. All of us carry this salve to ease the suffering
of the people. We see people every day with sun sickness. Our salve has always been
free. One simply has to come to the temple and ask in the king’s name.” Maira opened
the jar, revealing a milky paste that smelled medicinal. the scents were nothing she
recognized.
“What do I do with it?”
 “Spread it on her burns. It will give her healing and relief. If she does not get
better in three days, then it means it is already too late for the salve to heal her. We have
other medicines that can ease her back to health and right mind. Just come to the temple.
If you do not believe me, then ask your rug merchant. We treated his wife just this
morning, and she was far worse than that girl appears to be.” Maira hid her rage about
this, resolving to speak to the merchant immediately.
“You probably poisoned it.”
“How devious is the mind without the gentleness of the soul to temper it! Your
thoughts reveal your motives. You will have to decide, soulless one, oathbreaker,
whether or not I speak truth. I am not concerned for you. You have no soul to save. I am
concerned for that youth, who even now, in her sickness, steps closer to death in this heat.
The temple could provide cool water and medicines beyond this simple salve. It is only
logical to bring her. If, in your mind, her young life is still useful to you, you must bring
her and let her decide who she should follow. The Maestros who stole your soul even in
life, or the pantheon of man.”
“I have a soul, foul priest. It is just not where you can see it. I will take your
ointment. For that, you can thank the mortal, apostate king on my behalf. It is only small
repayment for our cruel treatment at the hands of his guards, but it will do. Begone.” the
priest bowed, stubbornly refusing to show his anger though his eyes betrayed it quite
well.
“Well then, I will accept this note of thanks, and may the King forgive you for
your blasphemy.” he had a peaceful smile on his face that made him look like an idiot.
Maira was disgusted that he even got a note of thanks from her, but she wasted no time in
spreading the salve on Aliyah’s red skin. She shuddered in her sleep and stopped tossing
as the breeze blew across her treated skin.
“It’s cold. . .”she muttered, her sleep disturbed. Maira used the salve sparingly,
knowing that there would be none to replace it. When Aliyah was safely asleep again,
Maira left to find the rug merchant.
She found him selling rugs. The man paled when he saw her.
“Maira. . .no. . .you don’t understand. She was dying.”
“Therruf, you abandoned the maestros. You will not leave this city. The priests
warned us all about the temptation. You failed. You will never return to the Togri. You
will perish if you set foot outside the city. I will make the report of your treachery
myself.” big tears appeared in his eyes. Two huge guards blocked her way as she tried to
step closer.
“Threaten me again, and they will fine us. Please Maira. Please understand. I
couldn’t live without her.”
“Has she pledged herself as well?”
“No. She is still unconscious. She is at the temple. Please, they were the only
ones who would offer help.”
“If you couldn’t live without her, then you should have died. May Sorrith curse
you for your treachery.” Maira’s sigil tingled as she uttered the curse. With grim
satisfaction she smiled. “Therruf, I don’t care. Aliyah is ill as well and she is very dear
to me, yet I would not abandon the Maestros nor force her to make that decision. I
believe that would be worse than death.”
 “The priests are right, Maira. You are soulless.” Maira turned her back on
Therruf. There was simply nothing more to say.
Three days passed and Avarain had not returned. Alyiah seemed to benefit from
the salve, but her fever persisted, and with it came terrible visions. It was a good thing
that the Masyth sale was over with. The merchants had their spare money and Maira kept
a portion of the profit to present to the priests at the temple of Caius. the king’s priest
returned in the evening and shook his head at the sight of Alyiah, who hadn’t even
awakened to be able to drink. Maira had kept her as clean as possible, but there was
little doubt that the girl was on the edge of life itself.
“It has gotten into her brain. Only the God-King can help her now. It will not be
long without our help.”
“Then she will go to Sorrith. I mourn her loss, but I will not risk her soul even to
save her life. That is no kind of treatment.”
“We are prepared to take her by force. You are intelligent, but you are not capable
of caring for anyone. Regardless of whether you have a soul or not, you are being quite
irrational about this business of Gods and salvations. I merely wish the best for her.”
“How long does she have then?” Maira asked. The priest looked at Aliyah.
“If she doesn’t wake tomorrow then it will be too late, even for our medicine. I
give her another three days after that before she dies, but her soul will already be gone. I
have seen persistent cases like hers. Yes. if she doesn’t wake tomorrow, she will never
wake again. It is not too late though. This is my final plea. Bring her to the temple or
we will take her.”
“No.” said another man. Maira looked over the priest’s shoulder. It was Avarain.
“Lieutenant Avarain, you are out of line. Return to your duties.”
“My priest,” he said, his hand on the hilt of his sword, “These infidels are not
worth your time. They are destined for destruction, but they are not true citizens. I
would not bring war and riot down on the city of Man simply because of a dying young
woman. Let me take them down to the undercity for a night. Then they shall see the
consequences of unbelief.”
“You are still a member of the guard?”
“Yes, cousin. Lord Sorrith granted me the leniency to spout the foul litany until I
could safely escort you down.”
“It is a fine idea, lieutenant. Leave the young one here. We will take her as you
escort this soulless one down.”
“My priest, I know your noble reasons, but I have observed this young one, and
she is just like her mistress. She will not accept the true faith, even if you put her to the
inquisition. It would be better for all of us if she died, and we can only pray for the same
fate to befall her master.” The priest looked decidedly nervous about Avarain speaking so
plainly.
“Good. Show me to your undercity. At least then I’ll get some shade to cool my
apprentice’s flesh and mind.” Avarain slapped Maira roughly.
“Cruel barbarian, if you only knew where I was taking you, you would gladly
deliver up your apprentice to this kind priest. You will learn better soon enough.” Maira
rubbed her cheek where the bones of Avarain’s hand had cut into it. The man’s magic
was fading fast. Silently she lifted Aliyah, who moaned softly. The priest pointed his
finger at Maira.
 “You soulless, hate-filled infidel. I will let you go, since this night you may also
find death. Curse you! I offer you nothing but peace and healing and you have thrown it
back in my face. May your people rot.”
“Thank you priest. Guard, take me to this undercity.” Avarain poked Maira with
his sword.
“Well, since you insist. . .Move it, infidel. If you run, I’ll kill you.” Maira
moved.
“That hurts. Knock it off.”
“Sorry Maira. It has to look real. Don’t worry. We don’t have far to go. C
district is underneath these markets.”
“That priest looked horrified at the thought of going down.”
“Well, the undercity is nothing to mention lightly, especially since he knows I am
taking you to the most convienient portal. C district is. . .bad. Even the guard won’t
lightly go down there.”
“Oh? But why?”
“The place is crawling with the undead: Nasty, cruel, soulless creatures that suck
the blood and life out of you.” he said this with a hint of sarcasm. Maira understood his
humor. He was one of those undead things. “ Those that are sent to the district are the
worst criminals our city has had the misfortune to breed.”
“But Sorrith. . .”
“Not all the undead belong to Sorrith. He has prepared my way with
understanding. We have been hunting the foul get of the demon gods down there and up
here when we can manage to escape. As to the criminals, they may live there for a few
years, but if they do not reform, justice comes as swift as we can deal it.”
“there are living people down there?”
“Oh, yes, thousands. Did you ever wonder why there are no tanneries, nor
graveyards, nor anything that may offend a tender nose or sensibility? The priests of the
king may claim to dispose of them in the temple, but they are merely dumped into the
undercity. It is full of those who are less than slaves. They are considered less than
human.”
“But where did they come from?”
“Have you not guessed? They are those who the king has decreed anathema.
Criminals, lepers, and those that refuse to worship the king. With them, the children of
these cursed people reside for all eternity. Once a citizen goes down, that is it. His
family is struck from the registry.” they marched through the streets of Arynstar, past the
market stalls where her people were still selling their wares.
“Do not worry. I have presented myself to them these past three days. They know
I mean you no harm. It is a pity about that rug merchant. I had to drag his leprous ass
down yesterday. It’s amazing. He was healthy just the day before. . .”
“What rug merchant? I came with no such person.” Maira shrugged, glancing at
him. He had a knowing smirk on his face.
“It may interest you to know that I came to deliver the notice to his wife to find
her dead by her own hand, and her spirit confused as I am told suicides often are. She
killed herself rather than abandon the maestros.”
“Good for her. What of her disposition?”
“She’s home. Feasting. Sorrith just let her in without a question.” Maira smiled.
 “The righteous are not troubled beyond life.”
“It is so,” he said. “But her husband could have years of lingering torture to
consider his infidelity.” he laughed grimly, “So much for the beneficence of the king.”
Maira also chuckled. They came to a fortified guardhouse, where his papers were
checked. The official report was that she was called to identify the rug merchant and take
care of him. he was not allowed back up into the city unless he was leaving with the
caravan. Maira didn’t even want to see the man, but she had invoked the curse, so she
had to see its result. Soon, they went through an iron portcullis and down a winding
ramp big enough for a cart. At the base, there was another checkpoint, before the thick
metal doors were opened into a dimly lit city. The chill of the undercity was refreshing
after the heat on the surface.
“It’s cool down here! Why do the citizens live on top?”
“Because the king knows better than to tear down the temples to the rightful gods
of Caln. He doesn’t dare. Somewhere in his arcane memory lies the truth.”
The ceiling was lit by magical globes, providing dim light to the entire undercity.
Sitting at the other side of the gate was a creature that could barely be considered human,
let alone alive. It was Therruf, but he was rotted away. Already, he was unable to stand
or even move. Pus leaked from boils all over his body and his skin appeared to be
melting off his bone, but his brown eyes were still intact. When he saw Avarain, he
screamed.
“Away, Away! Gods, no. Not that!” Avarain smiled and advanced on him.
“He sees me as I truly am.” he said. Therruf finally saw Maira, and he screamed.
“Monster! Gods curse you Maira, you fiend spawn. I knew you were an
oathbreaking bitch! What demons did you make a pact with?”
“He sees me as I truly am.” Maira said, astonished. “I belong to Sorrith, infidel.
You will have respect.”
“What shall I do with him? He’s a member of your caravan.”
“Kill him. he deserves death under Togri law.”
“But if he lives, he could be allowed to suffer for years.”
“No. The curse brought him down here outside the law of the overcity. let him
die so that he may see what became of his wife before she goes to be with Caius.”
“Lemari was her patron.” Maira grinned.
“Even Better. He can contemplate his sins as he watches her wait in Lemari’s
grove in Kohlerir.”
“What?! Sahra Dead?” he seemed to sink inward.
“I warned you that she might not be as weak as you. Now, you can see how
strong she truly is. Die, infidel.” Maira said with finality. Avarain silently drew his
blade and decapitated him. Maira spat on the corpse.
“Well, let’s continue.” Avarain said, wiping his weapon on Therruf’s clothes.
The ancient city streets were littered with the poor and starving denizens of the
undercity. the crumbling buildings left bits of debris as waifs and urchins knocked
crumbling masonry off the roofs. Throughout the area, the scents of industry polluted the
air. Avarain walked through without a problem, but Maira felt ill. Even Aliyah stirred,
moaning.
“Just a little farther now. It’s just down this street.” he said and pointed down the
widening road. The temple of Sorrith was a huge affair, built of basalt and steel. There
was not an ounce of gold on the building. It was a square, as if a giant block had been
dragged in and placed in the center of a fort. It was windowless, though it mattered little
down in the undercity. The walls surrounding the temple proper were decorated in
ancient friezes of battles chiseled into the surface Statues of forgotten judges and war
heroes watched silently from the ramparts. In the arrow slits of the wall, Maira could see
flashes of movement. When they came to the gate, Two warriors stood, holding primitive
spears because swords were forbidden. They were alive, but they wore the sigil of
Sorrith tooled into their leather armor.
“You may take nothing with you.” He eyed Avarain with suspicion. He couldn’t
see through the magic.
“I am Lieutenant Avarain Cieson of the third division of the Arynstar city guard. I
am also a sergeant. . . in the eternal army.” he said thinly. The warrior priests eased their
spears somewhat. The one on the left came forward.
“Liar. May Sorrith judge you.”
“Indeed. I await his judgement.” he said seriously. This confused the priest. He
stared Avarain in the eye.
“If it is his judgement you seek, then you are welcome. You may bring nothing
with you.” he said, stepping back to his position. Quietly, Avarain began to strip down.
The guard at the right stopped him.
“You may bring nothing with you, but you may be relieved of your burden behind
these first walls. The priests at the second gate will escort you in once you are ready.”
They let us in, where rough benches were manned by acolyte servants. Maira could see
more movement behind the murder holes in the walls and ceiling. Carefully, she eased
Aliyah onto a bench and began to strip down. One of the acolytes attended Aliyah,
sending for a stretcher as he removed her body soiled clothing. She was gently placed
onto it when it came. The acolytes insisted on shouldering it as they directed them to the
next gate. Two more living priests stood here.
“We have not seen you before, sergeant. You must hail from the desert tribes.”
“You can see me?”
“No, but your brethren can. We have been informed. They saw you from the
arrow slits and murder holes. The warriors at the gate were not informed, and so they
could not see you. We are wondering why you bring these living ones with you.”
“Sorrith demands that they be brought.” Avarain said. Both priests paled.
“Then let us hasten to the temple.” The priests led them across the courtyard,
where warriors, both living and undead, trained with wooden and stone weapons. The
doorkeepers pulled the temple doors ajar. For the first time, the three of them entered a
temple of Sorrith.
Maira had been to the shrine of Sorrith in tree city, where all of the priests were
still living. They were mostly concerned with battle plans, history and the disposition of
the dead. Here, all the aspects of Sorrith were displayed in gold and vibrant paint. The
foretemple of Sorrith was part court, part police station, and part mortuary, each with a
different section. Criminals marched, escorted by the priests, right next to mourners of
the undercity observing the deceased in state before being taken to the furnaces. They
moved through the departments of the forecourt, through a second set of double doors—
these were gold inlaid. On the other side, a sweeping staircase opened up onto the temple
proper. Here is where all the gold of centuries of burial rites was amassed in the walls
and floors. A huge idol to sorrith stood in the center, displaying a fearsome skeletal
warrior with an upraised sword in one hand and the scales of justice in the other. The
Idol’s red jeweled eyes seemed to watch everyone who entered the doors. Living humans
of all ages knelt and mourned in a straight line to the right and the left of the idol.
Though they didn’t seem to notice, the undead moved around before their eyes, lounging
and conversing around a fountain as if they were normal, breathing citizens of Arynstar.
They also seemed to be oblivious to the presence of the humans.
“Behold, the temple of Sorrith and its living wall.” Maira cocked her head.
“What do you mean by “living wall”?” she looked at Avarain who shrugged. The
priest knit his brows.
“The wall where the people mourn. The huge magical thing right there.” Maira
shook her head. “Look! It has magical scenes and people weep on the tapestries. The
wall with its scene of Lord Sorrith defeating the demon armies. . .” Maira saw nothing
like that. The priest inspected Maira a little closer.
“That’s impossible. You’re still alive. You can’t be allowed to see. . .” Another
priest appeared, gliding up the stars with practiced grace. This one was unmistakably
undead. A strange white gem like a soul gem flickered at his solar plexus, and his
withered skin was dry and bloodless. He smiled, staring at Maira though in his eye
sockets a white light pulsed in place of true eyes. The living priest bowed and moved
aside.
“Welcome brother Avarain, we are glad to see you here at last.” he embraced
Avarain and kissed his cheeks like a brother. Then he turned to Maira. “Ah, Lord Sorrith
told me you would be coming. I am Zamed, the high priest of this ancient temple. I have
served Sorrith faithfully these past 3000 years.” He looked every moment of those years.
He embraced Maira too, his bones poking into her flesh. Strangely, he did not smell of
death. Rather, he smelled, like Sorrith, of spices and sword oil. “Welcome Maira,
beloved of Sorrith. How rare and fortunate that one is chosen to be marked in life. I fear
that you will make my living priests quite jealous.” He inspected Aliyah, his face
impassive. After a thorough examination, he put his hand on Maira’s shoulder.
“Sorrith has called her. There is nothing anyone can do to preserve her live.”
Maira paled, but Zamed smiled. “Do not worry, she will be blessed. I have received
word from our General, Lord Belil, concerning this girl. Lord Sorrith wishes to make a
temple among the Togri. He has determined that with war brewing between your people
and Arynstar, it is time for Caius to allow him to bless the Togri warriors as only Sorrith
can. Caius has determined that his system of judgement—as experienced by you—is no
longer effective. He is allowing Sorrith to slowly shoulder the patronage of justice in
Tree City, as it should be.” He stroked Aliyah’s hair. “We are going to wake her now.
Bring her down. We must walk through the hall.”
“But why not simply walk past those people down there?” Zamed smiled.
“Because my dear, Aliyah is not yet marked by Sorrith, and so she cannot pass.
You do not see the wall because you are marked. You can pass. Usually, living
supplicants are required to use the hall to access the altar.” He beckoned them down. As
he passed, petitioners stopped wailing and moaning at the wall and turned their pleas to
Zamed. They grabbed at his loose, billowing pants. Silently, he blessed the people as he
walked by, into a narrow, dark hall.
 There was no light as he led them down a series of twisty passages. There were
no sconces where a torch or a light globe could be placed. At the end of it, a single torch
was lit. There, a single living priest stood.
“Once you have passed this door, young warriors, you are commited.” said the
sentry, “You may enter by the door, but from it, there is no exit. Examine yourselves, you
who have come to this place of sacrifice, for once you enter the inner sanctum of our
Lord, Maestro Sorrith, only in death may you leave.” the announcement made Maira
tremble. Zamed drew a cordial from his vest pocket and dropped a small amount under
Aliyah’s tounge. Aliyah’s eyes flew open, and she sat up as if healed.
“This will not last long. This magic cordial only grants a brief amount of
wakefulness, despite illness. It should buy her enough time to make it through the
ceremony. That’s all the time we need. She is indeed stricken by sun sickness.”
“Yes. She’s not the only one. The guards are purposefully taking their time with
anyone who refuses to bow to the king.” Maira said bitterly.
“It is my fault, lady Maira. I should have stayed on my blanket on auction day.”
Zamed put a skeletal hand on her shoulder.
“Aliyah, do you know why you’re here?” Aliyah looked at Zamed with a
horrified expression.
“Maestros help me. . .my dreams are true.” she said, her voice too tight to
scream. Zamed was patient with her.
“What dreams?”
“I saw this place in my dreams. I saw. . .Maira. But she’s human.” Aliyah stood,
though weak from days of illness. “I am. . .I was supposed to ask. . .” her knees buckled
briefly, but she caught herself. “I am dying Maira. I warned you.” she said weakly.
“I didn’t want to believe you.” Maira said, tears threatening to spill over.
“Don’t cry. I am called to be a. . .a sacrifice. I think that’s what I remember.”
“You are blessed to ask in truth. That is the proper word for what you are about to
undergo.” Zamed said.
“But Aliyah, you’re only fifteen.” Aliyah embraced Maira.
“Death knows no age.” she said solemly. Zamed took her by the hand. Calmly,
he smudged Aliyah’s head, shoulder and chest with soot.
“Indeed. That is very well said.” he looked at Maira. Tears had already spilled
down her cheeks. “Why do you weep? You know what she is about to become.”
“Yes, lord Zamed.”
“Cousin will do, child. I am no lord of any kind.”
“Cousin. . .I feel as if it were my fault she has come to this.”
“You feel the burden of responsibility, nothing more. There is nothing you could
do. When Lord Sorrith calls you home, you will have to go as well.
“But the choosing. Aliyah, if you concecrate yourself to sorrith, you can’t belong
to Caius. . .” Aliyah shook her head.
“I have been passed over every year since I was eight, Maira. I wouldn’t be
chosen this year anyway. I’m a legal adult now. How many years has it been since a
rysyth has chosen an adult as a bond?” Maira knew she was correct.
“Enough. Let us pass.” The sentry priest opened the door. On the other side, the
light was as bright as day, though there was no heat to it. The walls seemed to melt away
into illusions of a city in the middle of a lush, grassy landscape. The enlisted lounged
about, as if this were a plaza in the middle of a city, wearing the same shirtless vest and
loose billowing pants that Zamed wore. One or two even played instruments, though
their lyrics were completely devoted to Sorrith and to battle. Maira could see the wall
from this side. It appeared to be a stretch of endless, pristine land with trees dotting the
landscape. Its beauty took Maira’s breath away. Aliyah stopped as soon as the door
closed behind them with an echoing boom. In that instant, Maira felt pulled apart as her
body transformed. Zamed stepped back, marveling at Maira’s form. The transformation
left Maira somewhat dizzy. The undead stopped what they were doing and came
forward, hands on their weapons. Zamed held up his hands.
“Peace, my brothers and sisters. She is blessed. She belongs to Sorrith.” Maira
kicked and flapped her wings, stretching them out. The breeze stirred up a cloud of dust.
Zamed frowned. “So. This is why he marked you. Interesting. Why have you been
marked?”
“I was supposed to have died, but there were. . .complcations.” she indicated her
true form. Aliyah coughed as the dust choked her.
“I suppose it’s been a few decades since we have dusted.” he stroked his sharp
chin.
“I can’t see.” said Aliyah.
“Do not fear, child. The path through death is dark.” Zamed said patiently.
“Why am I exposed now? Caius hid my true form from humans.”
“The living cannot see back here. Sorrith’s magic blinds them. This is our
refuge, the place where we can come and be as we were in life. It is an oasis for us, for
we are scorned and hated among the living. Look at brother Avarain. Do you think he
could be lightly accepted out there without his magic?” Maira looked at him. Avarain
was a horrid, dried husk with a purple gem at his solar plexus. He didn’t appear to have a
drop of moisture in his entire body. One of the undead handed him a pair of loose pants
identical to their own. He put them on with little argument and tied the strings tight at the
waist.
“You have been far too long without refreshment for one so young. Don’t worry
young Avarain. You will get enough soon. Trust me. You will feel better than you have
in years.”
They traveled down another set of stairs and through another door. Maira knew
that they should be well underground by now. Here was a simple room, decorated with
nothing but a simple stone altar in a pit and a large gong behind it. To either side of the
altar, two doors opened. One went down into deeper darkness, the other emanated heat
and light.
“One path beyond death, the other to Sorrith himself. We burn the truly dead
here, after we have drained them. Fortunately, that is not your destiny.” He stepped up
the altar and rang a small gong, hidden from the front. Soon three others came, one
bearing a small, black orb.
“Aliyah Tallim of the Togri Nation, you stand ready to be sacrificed. Approach
the altar. Follow my voice.” Aliyah stumbled in the dark as she followed. Twice, she
nearly fell down the stairs before bumping into the altar itself.
“Be seated. You have come to your bier.” Aliyah sat.
“Death comes to all humans. To some it comes by surprise, to others the lingering
march of age. To others, it comes in battle in strife or persecution, and still to others in
peace or sickness. To those chosen of Sorrith however, death comes as a choice—not the
desperate choice of the suicide, but the bold and courageous choice of the faithful,
knowing that death is only the beginning of service.”
As Zamed began his litany, the undead began to fill the room, kneeling on the
basalt floor and watching the proceedings with their vacant or absent eyes. Even Maira’s
body could not distract them. Her breath seemed loud in the room. She heard Aliyah’s
as well, shallow in her sickness.
“Present your palms, Aliyah.” Aliyah turned her palms up. “Maira the Unique of
Caln, the unnamed one who was once Maira Esethan of the Togri nation, as one chosen to
serve in life, step forward.” Maira had difficulty with the steep steps, but by leaping down
with her wings to slow her descent, she approached the altar. There was no dust here,
but as Maira looked on the floor, she saw that it was permanently stained with blood. She
too presented her palms to Zamed. He continued, “Brother Avarain Cieson, Spy in the
eternal army, former lieutenant of the third company of the Arynstar guard, as the guide
to our sacrifice this night, step forward.” Avarain calmly approached. Zamed drew his
dagger and cut open Avarain’s palms. He didn’t flinch, but he was so dehydrated that the
viscous gel that came out of his hands was almost clear. Carefully, Zamed put the black
orb into Avarain’s mummified hands. It pulsed blue in tune with Avarain’s purple orb.
“A soul gem is worth only the value of its refinement—a simple semi-precious
stone, nothing more. It is the soul within it that makes it priceless, refines the orb, and
makes it a true gem. One day, Sorrith will call us forth, and we will vacate it.” He
moved to Maira and opened only one palm. She struggled not to scream or snatch her
hand back. Her palm welled with blood as Avarain handed the gem to her. The moment
it touched her, it seemed to vibrate, taking on a deep purple color. It ceased to be simple
stone and felt surprisingly like her own gem. Zamed smiled.
“Until then, we are like the true children of Caln,” The white light in his sockets
blazed as he stared up at Maira, or rather at her soul gem. “But we are not truly children
of Caln. Maira, you have become one through rebirth. You were reborn and remade as
the magic of the three master races touched you and mingled their blood. We however,
are dead and our soul, though cleansed by Sorrith, remains human. Only in death can we
share in some of the same benefits of belonging to this world, and to the next. Though
you will be less likely to slip into evil Aliyah, there will still be temptation. Just
remember: Sorrith is your god, your General, your Maestro. Though the others in the
council of maestros are equally the true gods of Caln, for you there is only one you may
call upon. You are his instrument for all eternity, for even if you are called into the
feasthall at the end of your service, you will still be with him while the heavens and the
earth exist. If you disobey him, you face death as if you were never redeemed.” He
walked up to Aliyah, who had begun to sway as she sat. He split both of her palms. She
sat unnaturally still as he did it. Blood began to dribble down her wrists.
“You have the strength to remain awake just a little longer my dear. I know the
cordial is wearing off.” Aliyah nodded.
“I feel so dizzy sir. I just want to sleep. I hurt.”
“Sun sickness is a terrible way to die, but it will not be what takes you. It only
got you here to this moment and no further. Maira will show you the way. Come Maira.
Hand her the gem.” Maira placed the blood coated orb in Aliyah’s hands. Immediately,
it flashed brilliant white before dimming to barely a flicker in the center. All of the
undead sighed collectively. Aliyah looked confused. Maira pressed the fingers of her
other hand into her palm to try and stop the blood.
“Your gem is white—the highest rank among the enlisted in the eternal army. As
you know, you will be the first among your people and the founder of the temple at Tree
City. We who bear the white gem receive our orders from Sorrith himself. Now, relax.
You may close your eyes. I know you are tired.” Aliyah smiled and stretched out, her
hands firmly gripping her gem. Zamed drew his dagger. He lifted it high above his head.
Everyone seemed to pause, staring at it.
“In the name of Sorrith I commit Aliyah Tallim of the Togri Nation to the path of
sacrifice.”
“Serve well, Aliyah.” said the undead congregation in unison. Zamed brought
the knife down, burying it in Aliyah’s chest. She bucked in her death throes, but Zamed
held her down until she quit twitching. Her gem flared into alabaster brilliance under her
hands. At the same time, the gong began to vibrate. It grew in dynamic until it was so
loud that the walls vibrated. Maira covered her sensitive ears. Zamed backed away from
the altar. Right where he had been standing, Sorrith appeared. Everyone fell prostrate
except Maira, who bowed as low as she could go.
“My children, it has been far too long. The time draws near when the guards at
the gate will not be able to stop you.” cheers erupted from the congregation. Gently, she
arranged Aliyah’s hair and smiled. “She will not regret her choice.” he put his thumb to
her shoulder, imprinting his sigil in her flesh. Then he picked up the gem. Aliyah’s arms
fell to her sides.
“Her soul is inside.” he whispered to Maira, “It is sort of asleep.”
“Can she hear us?”
“She can hear me.” He looked out over the room. “I am very pleased with all of
you. Be refreshed.” he clapped his hands. From up in the outer sanctum, the screams of
the living were heard, even through the wall. Every container and fountain of water
turned to blood. Like a mad herd, the undead scented it and went for it. Even Zamed and
Avarain could not resist. Sorrith chuckled.
“Lovely.” he said dryly. “My children are not exactly. . .polite when it comes to
meal time. Many of them haven’t had an ounce of blood in years. This will do them
good.”
“Will Aliyah drink blood too?”
“Yes.”
“How can they move like that. . .like Avarain?”
“Dessicated, you mean? Oh, I designed their condition.” He scratched his chin,
“You are perhaps asking me how to care for Aliyah.” he shook his head “She can care for
herself now. She can take no food or drink. She doesn’t breathe or sleep. She requires
blood only to keep her freshly dead appearance. She will crave it, but it’s hardly
necessary. They are not like other types of undead.”
“There are more?” Sorrith sneered.
“Nasty things, bound to their bodies by demon magic. They are not mine.” he
put Aliyah’s gem into her body. It sank into her flesh and pulsed there at her solar plexus.
“I need to take her up for the rest of the night. She has a great deal of training before she
will be ready to wake into her new existence.”
“I can’t leave the undercity without her.” Maira said softly.
 “You won’t have to. You can stay back here in your true form for as long as it
takes. The undead know you are alive. They won’t let you starve. I just hate to see you
suffer in a human body. I told you there would be rare opportunities like this to stretch
your legs and wings. How do you feel?”
“I don’t want to go back. It’s been thirty years, and now, for only a brief amount
of time. . .” her wings drooped. Sorrith put his hand on her whithers.
“Take heart. One day you will not have to go through this grueling
transformation. We know it hurts.” Maira looked at him, sorrow coloring her gem blue.
“When will that be? When I am too old to fly? When I am too gnarled to run?
Every day I wake up with the knowledge that I am not human, but I must be forced to act
like one.”
“Well, I am truly sorry about that. When you leave this inner sanctum, you’ll
have to wear a human form again. I know you won’t want to leave, but this is no place
for mortals.” He walked away, up the stairs. She followed, leaping up the stairs. In the
area behind the wall, the undead were literally bathing in the fountain. The layer of dust
was replaced by a layer of blood. They all stopped and stood at attention as Sorrith
entered.
“At ease.” He commanded. “Return to your feast.” As they watched, Avarain
came up to Maira. His flesh was completely restored, and he embraced Maira in a bloody
hug.
“Maira, thank you. Thank you for showing me what I am. I haven’t felt this good
in years. I almost feel alive.”
“You are whole again, Avarain.” Sorrith said, “Now that you have had your fill of
blood, you must care for your body. Stay out of the desert sun if you wish to retain your
appearance, or come more often for refreshment. You will never again be able to hide
behind the mask of magic that was granted to you. You are no longer my spy. I will
appoint General Belil to give you your next orders.”
“Yes, lord Sorrith.” Sorrith stopped, considering the wall. He looked at Maira
with a gentle smile.
“There is another option to staying here. Do you truly want to run there?” He
ponted at the endless grassland, “I made this wall, I can make it so. Not in reality, but
magically. I know you want to.”
“Yes, lord.” Maira said wistfully, looking at the wall. She had never seen grass
grow like this, but she was sure that no place on Caln was so beautiful.
“Then step in and run. I believe there’s even someone waiting for you there.”
“Deshar?” Maira asked, elated. Sorrith winked. “We’re stretching the rules a bit,
you understand. I tire of hearing her mourning wails every night these past thirty years.
You two were cruelly parted. I need you to reassure her that you are well. She cannot fly
in my wing until she lets you go.”
“Can I touch her?”
“Of course. It is your vision. In mortal dreams, the spirits of the departed can
always interact.” He slapped her rump. “Go now. The rest of this night here will be quite
boring for you. They riot in fear outside the temple and in here it will be nothing but a
blood orgy. I wish to spend time with my enlisted here. Go.” She leaped into the wall.
The breeze was cooler than she had ever felt, and it chilled her, though the sun
shone brightly. Kicking her heels up, she dashed across the idyllic landscape. Over the
next hill, Deshar lay, sunning her belly. She raised her feathered head, just as beautiful as
Maira remembered, her mouth opening in a vicious Rysyth smile.
“Maira! By Sorrith, How can you be here?”
“I’m not here, really. I am safe in Arynstar.” Deshar’s crest feathers stood on
end. They rubbed against each other, a tender greeting. She was still massive in
comparison. Maira set to scratching Deshar’s gums.
“Oh, little one, how can you be safe in that accursed city?”
“I am in the temple of Sorrith. He sent me to you in a vision.” Deshar’s proud
crest flattened against her skull.
“Oh. . .I had hoped. . .I tried to fly with them Maira, I really did, but they all don’t
understand. I miss you. I want to battle evil with you.”
“It’s been a long time. Deshar my love, you have to go.” Deshar flexed her teeth,
a nervous habit.
“I am waiting for you as you would have waited for me. How can I go?” Maira
folded her legs underneath her.
“You have to. It’s been thirty years! Deshar, you are unbound. We are unbound.
I have the feeling Sorrith has been very gentle with you on my account, but he needs you
to fight. You know very well that even if I were to die tomorrow I could not ride with
you.” Maira preened herself in her grief. Deshar butted her face into Maira’s side, nearly
knocking her over.
“Has it? Has it really been so long?” Deshar looked confused. Maira knew she
had lost track of time. “I just want to be with you. I chose you. Without your soul next
to mine, I feel that I am missing something.”
“As do I old friend, but I have to live. You have your duties in the afterlife. Lord
Sorrith sent me to you . . . or you to me to tell you. I have a feeling that if you devote
yourself, you’ll see me in the honor wing soon enough. Then we may fly together over
the astral lands.”
“You believe you are going to die soon?” Deshar asked hopefully.
“No. . .And yes. I always believe I am going to die these days. No. What I am
saying is that time works differently for me. I am mortal still, and you are dead. Forget
about life. It is I who will have to endure the agonizing march of time. Can you let me
go for now?” Deshar looked at Maira and sighed.
“I know you are right, but you must also give me up. When I close my eyes, I can
hear your dreams. You must live, and enjoy living. You can’t always seek death, even
though you belong to Sorrith.” Maira looked at her hooves. Then she smiled.
“Very well, if you return to the honor wing, I will enjoy my life, even forced into
a human form.”
“Oh, you don’t need to enjoy that. Just live, that’s all I ask.”
“Shall we fly on it?”
“Of course.” Deshar leaped into the air. Maira followed close behind.
Maira was spat out of the wall and slid across the room to come to rest at the base of the
stairs. She wobbled as she got to her feet, unsteady once again on two legs. Humans
cleared a space around her as an undead priest handed her a pair of pants and a vest,
which she refused. Her sigil glowed so that humans could see it.
“Welcome back cousin. You have been in the wall for a night and a day. We have
food for you.” He said, helping her steady herself. Maira’s eyes went wide.
“Where’s Aliyah?”
“Still on the altar. Our Lord spent the night with us and left at dawn to train her
himself. I understand he does this with the white gems.”
“You were not trained by him?”
“No, by one of his immortal officers. Come on back. She should return any time
now.” This time Maira walked through the wall, and it was nothing more than an
insubstantial barrier. Then she fell on the floor screaming as the change ripped through
her. It never got any easier or less painful. Everything was clean and the water in the
fountain was crystal. Maira paused there to drink from it. It tingled as it went down.
The priest looked at her, horrified. “Cousin. . .that is part of the Arynstar spring.” Maira
paused in mid drink.
“It’s poisonous to humans. Do I look human to you?” She said roughly, taking
another drink.
“I hope you are right, cousin.” He said seriously. She shrugged, feeling the
benefits of the water. It reminded her of the place they took her for healing.
“If it was poisonous to me, I would be dead even as it passed my lips”
“I suppose it is so.” He said, “I wouldn’t touch the stuff, even as a dead man.”
Maira nodded and walked off, finding her way back to the inner sanctum. Aliyah
was still there, as the priest said, in the same position she was in when she left, only now,
the dagger that had killed her was clasped in her stiff fingers. It still had her blood on it.
Avarain sat at the base of the altar, fully restored, merely a bloodless version of the
glamour he wore as a spy. He stroked Aliyah’s hair gently, like a father.
“She must return soon. She’s starting to wither.” He said softly. Maira looked at
Aliyah’s corpse. Its eyes had sunken in and its lips had parted somewhat. She looked a
few more days dead than she should.
“Do you have blood for her?”
“It will be provided.”
“It seems peaceful out there.”
“We quelled the riots, but not before it killed the guards at the last gate. The
people almost made it up this time.”
“Will we be able to go back up?”
“Of course. I don’t look so far gone that they will notice anymore. I’ll have to
find my way back soon enough though. If the inquisition catches me up there in a
dessicated state they’ll haul me before the priests of Thrass.” He shuddered involuntarily.
Maira looked once more at Aliyah.
“How much longer?”
“Any moment now.” Said Avarain. “Joining the priesthood is complicated. Even
I had to be reeducated over the past few days.”
“Oh. Where do I stand in Sorrith’s army?”
 “You don’t. You belong to him, but that’s just the equivalent of being on sort of a
waiting list for inclusion. You are outside it until you can meet the requirements.”
“Death or immortality?” Maira asked thinly.
“Precicely.” Avarain muttered, staring at the ceiling. Slowly, Aliyah’s fingers
began to curl, clenching Avarain’s hand.
“Nnnnn.” She moaned. “I can’t move.” Her first telepathic words were weak and
quiet. Avarain stood and rested his hand on her forehead.
“Give it some time. You’ve been still for a full day.” Avarain said gently.
Aliyah’s sunken eyes rolled open. They were empty in death, just like Avarain’s. “Ring
the gong Maira.” He said quietly. Maira lifted the mallet and struck it. The vibrations
echoed throughout the sanctum. Once again, the undead began to file in. There was an
air of expectation and joy in the room. Zamed appeared through the left hand door and
approached the altar. Avarain and Maira backed away to join the congregation. Slowly,
gently, Zamed helped Aliyah sit.
“Welcome back, priestess Aliyah. Do you remember where you are?” Aliyah
scanned the room.
“I am in the temple.” She tried to work her jaw, but it would not open.
“How do you feel?” Maira asked. Zamed gave her a stern look.
“I feel. . .nothing.” Aliyah touched her face, her arms, and her belly.
“Your sense of touch will recover in time, but you will never again feel pain.”
“Oh.” She said, getting her lips and jaw to work somewhat. Zamed handed her a
chalice of blood. She drank it, her face fleshing out once more, though her eyes remained
sunken. Smiling, she put her feet on the floor and stood, wobbling. Carefully, she took
one stiff step, arms out for balance. Then she took another, her knees refusing to bend.
Zamed moved behind her and supported her, then kicked the backs of her knees. They
popped as if broken, but Aliyah regained her feet and walked a little easier. She crawled
up the stairs like a baby into the arms of a whole group of them, who cleaned her and
dressed her.
“Now, Priestess Aliyah Tallim, you are one of us. May the Togri Nation be
blessed by your service.” Cheers erupted, and they escorted her off through the left hand
door. Maira watched them go. This time, only Zamed remained.
“Did you enjoy your vision? I understand you spoke to a member of the vanguard
wing. Sorrith thanks you for that. Whatever you said helped the rysyth get to drill this
morning.”
“I am glad.” Maira said sadly. “I promised her that I would live.” Zamed nodded.
“That is a dangerous promise. I hope you can keep it.”
“Thank you.”
“No, thank You Maira. We haven’t had a full ceremony in fifty years. I will look
for you, when your service concludes. This battle is to be my last upon this plane.”
“Cousin?” Zamed didn’t meet her gaze.
“I have been warned. Lord Sorrith has been most kind in informing me.”
“Congratulations. I know you have been here a long time.”
“Yes indeed. Well, there’s not much more for you back here, and there is plenty
of food for you out there. We bought some to assuage the people after the riots. We were
going to share with you, but Sorrith provided another alternative.”
“I suppose it’s time.”
 “We all wish you could stay.”
“Lord Sorrith has not given me permission to do that.”
“Then you’d better go through.” He embraced her a final time before sending her
out. This time, when she walked through the wall, it was like stepping through an
illusion. On the other side, once she had regained her balance, she did accept the loose
pants and the shirt that the female undead wore: cream colored linen, draping to the
knees, clasping across the chest and leaving the belly and arms exposed. The humans
paused to look at her, noticing that she lacked a gem. There was not much food left
except for a few loaves of stale bread. She munched frugally. Wheat bread was a luxury
among the Togri. Water was plentiful as well, though they looked at her oddly once
more. She was drinking out of the fountain in the forecourt when a cold hand rested on
her shoulder.
“You are scaring the humans, cousin.” Aliyah said calmly. Maira straightened.
“Why?”
“Because you bear no gem and you passed twice through the wall. They think
you are an immortal.” Maira shrugged.
“I don’t really care what they believe, just as long as they don’t know what I am.”
Maira frowned. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that bread was not enough.
 The trip back was more difficult, laden with supplies for the next year, and short a
number of masyths. It took them five weeks to cross the desert. The boy Thelembi
returned from Arynstar with the Togri. It was a unanimous decision on the part of the
merchants, who were impressed by the boy’s resourcefulness. Maira had to vouch for
him as a dedicated follower of Meranna, but once they accepted his peculiarities, they
were glad to have him. The trip had everyone on edge. There had been no bandit attacks,
no sandstorms and every oasis had been filled with sweet water. Though they counted
their blessings, they doubled their sentries each night, looking for attack from above as
well as on the ground.
It had rained on the lee slopes of the Rystooth and the normally dry land was
blooming. They had to find several alternate routes even in the scrublands where the
flash floods had washed out the trail. It seemed that they would have a difficult journey
home to match their disheartening week in trade, when the trip became impossible. They
stopped for the night in Lachensir, the Arynstar outpost. It was a bizarre town, overtly
praising the name of the king but at night, worshipping Asair secretly, right under the
noses of the guard. It was the guard who stopped them, but not because of the King’s
edicts. Aryn Pass, the first of three major passes through the mountains, was choked with
mud and impassable. They informed the caravan that though there were crews digging
out the pass, the rains were already filling in their hard work as soon as it was completed.
They were told they would have to wait, perhaps through the rains.
Maira was heartbroken. Waiting in Lachensir would ruin their already meager
profit, leaving very little for next year’s trek. They had to get through before the major
rains of the season hit. The storms were already strong, which did not bode well when
Meranna’s Wrath thundered over, the only powerful storms capable of making it to
Arynstar. That night she prayed her thanks to Meranna for delaying them. If they had
been on the desert, they would not have survived. Merrana’s wrath, while it was a
blessing of rain that came only once a year to the southern Gherir, brought ahead of it
powerful winds that whipped up nasty, lethal sandstorms. The rains themselves,
absolutely crippling to the Togri, who had to endure three weeks of solid rain in their
jungle home on the windward side, produced gentle, soaking rain in the desert that made
the desert bloom and filled the oases. She had to send Aliyah ahead on Maira’s personal
masyth to alert Scout Point of their trouble.
Scout point was the most remote outpost of the Togri nation, high up in the
Rystooth Mountains, and just on the other side of Cloud Pass, the third of the three
passes. For centuries it had been the embarkation point for land caravans traveling to
Tree city, and for the last thirty years it had also served the landbound caravans when the
rysyth were outlawed in Arynstar territory. Their exceptionally strong Rysyth and masyth
could carry goods and people across the miles of tractless marsh, forest and jungle that
stretched between the outpost and the city. There were three wings stationed there and a
tiny village to support them, but with the Omryth threat, the wings had suffered. Maira
knew that to lift them to Scout Point from Aryn pass was risky—Aryn Pass was still in
Arynstar territory. Unfortunately, she knew as she looked up at the gray sky the morning
she sent Aliyah that another storm was making it over the mountains. Aryn pass would
soon be a raging river. While she waited, settling the caravan in Lachesir, she scouted out
the pass for herself, dismayed at what she saw, but willing to wait for a messenger to
come. She counted her blessings that Aliyah could speak telepathically.
 The long trek across the desert had done Aliyah’s undead flesh no good. Just a
week into the journey home had dessicated her to the point that she went around with her
hood and face mask up even at night to hide her troubling appearance from the
merchants. She was even worse now, four weeks later, and her first time being in such a
state was uncomfortable. It was not the discomfort of pain, since she could no longer feel
it, but it was the pressure of her skin pulling tight across her bones and the heat of the
desert cooking her flesh that bothered her. Still, in the state she was in, she would have to
appeal to the Rysyth to convince the ryshians that she was not demon bred. None of
them had seen a person on Sorrith’s path.
Aliyah felt the wind against her body and the moisture that made up the clouds
damped her dusty clothes until little streams of mud trickled down between her
prominent finger bones. She wanted nothing more than a dark corner to hide in and a jar
of blood to hydrate her after the endless, sun scorched Gherir. Sorrith had warned her of
the trouble of heat upon her body, but only in the last week had it really hit her hard. It
was at the last oasis that she had looked at herself reflected in the moonlight and come to
terms with her status. She looked at her shriveled flesh clinging tightly to her bones and
her lips and eyelids that would not close, which had caused her eyeballs to collapse and
fall out leaving points of white light in their place. She was undead.
Maira was a good creature, dedicated to Sorrith, but still didn’t quite understand.
Being alive she could not know. Aliyah had no such problems. Her life was over and all
that was required of her was doing whatever Sorrith commanded. Right now, that meant
aiding the caravan.
The masyth groaned his exhaustion. He dipped a bit in his flight. She directed the
masyth to land, selecting a small clearing in the middle of the cloud forest. She had made
it over the lee side of the Rystooth. The air was chill and the masyth was sluggish. She
felt the cold too, after the heat of the desert. Her body no longer made its own heat.
Unfortunately, she would not make the Point tonight. Tenderly, she tried to rub the
masyth down, but it didn’t like the touch of her mummified hands. Once she quit, it
tucked its head into its wing and fell asleep. There was nothing now to speak to her, and
no sleep to take the edge off her boredom. Sighing, she knelt and began her nightly
prayers to the sound of the forest humming with life around her.
In the morning, she forced the masyth to fly again. At least now, in her state, she
was light and the masyth could handle her even fatigued. By noon they were spotted by
the Scout point watch. Two escorts flew on either side, checking her out. Carefully, she
flattened herself to the masyth’s neck, the rider’s equivalent of putting her hand up in
surrender.
“Peace! I am Aliyah Tallim, apprentice of Maira. I have news from the
caravan.” Both Rysyth snorted, poison spray escaping their front fangs as they displayed
them in warning.
“You smell like death. You are not human.”
“No, lords. I am an Enlisted, a blessed watcher of Sorrith! I am a warrior
priestess. Look, I bear the sigil and the gem!” the rysyth flew over her, flying nearly
close enough to disrupt the masyth’s flight.
“You will follow us.” They said, then settled to either side of her, guiding her to
the stronghold. Once on the ground, her masyth collapsed, its energy spent. People came
out of the stable to care for him immediately.
 “That masyth may not live.” Said one of the riders, “I’m not too sure of you, but
Sarus vouches for your honesty. I’m Sarus Derr Rosh. This is my brother Naset Palis
Rosh. Come on in. If we can help, we will. I think we have some clean and dry clothes
you can use. You came just in time for the noon meal.”
“Um . . . I think these will do. My face is . . . not meant for polite company.” She
looked up at Sarus and Naset “I am undead. Explain that to them. I fear that they will
not accept it from my lips.” Derr and Palis both trembled as it was explained, the blood
draining from their faces. After that, she was shown to a private room where she was
allowed a bath and a fire to dry her clothes. The soaking helped loosen her flesh, but it
would be only a matter of hours before she was back to her dried state.
In the evening, there was a knock at her door. A huge raven haired man who wore
authority like a splendid garment strode through the door.
“You are from the Tree City caravan. I am Cerras Sarnath Ullissan, the Human
air marshal of Scout Point. Tell me why you come alone, priestess.” If he was troubled
by her appearance, he didn’t show it. Aliyah began to relate her need.
The masyth scouts arrived in Lachesir in the evening, a full week after Aliyah was
sent out. They had surveyed all the passes as they flew and determined that the only way
to navigate it would be to transport the caravan directly. It was a risky decision. Since
the lee slopes were firmly in the jurisdiction of Arynstar, the rysyth knew that the omryth
would sense them if they hadn’t already been warned by the Lachesir guard. The
conveyors were limited in size and even magically treated to keep the load light, rysyth
would have to transport a section of the caravan at a time, rest, and then fly back for the
next section. Scout point being as far as it was, the job would be a grueling task. Added
to the problems was the rain, which at times kept even the rysyth grounded, even this
early in the season. The Scout Point council weighed the options carefully, with Aliyah
presenting her request in the best way she could.
Despite being part of Arynstar, things were pleasant in Lachesir. In contrast to the
rude and callous treatement they had received in Arynstar, they were treated quite well,
along with the desert tribes that were camped in the area, waiting for the rains so that they
could start their festival to Merrana and then to Lemari.
Two wings worked on moving the goods and merchants, while the caravan’s
remaining masyth were loaded with as much as they could carry by air. The third wing
was a sentry wing, continuously watching the skies for attack. As water poured out of the
pass and down the mountain, the entire caravan worked ceaselessly to load the goods.
By the end of the fifth day, Maira finished loading the last of the people and
goods. No Omryth had been sighted, but they knew it was only a matter of time.
Thelembi looked up at the huge rysyth, his face pale with fear. Maira pushed him
forward, but he balked.
“Lady Maira, I can’t! Don’t make me. Please, not off the ground.” Maira
sighed. The boy had just barely emerged from the undercity to see the sun for the first
time and the thought of leaving the ground terrified him. Unfortunately, she didn’t have
time to persuade him. Mercifully, she reached up and pinched his neck. His eyes rolled
into his head and he sagged into her arms. In that moment a bolt of lightening struck her.
Shouts of alarm echoed in her head and she felt hands try to grab her. She sank to her
knees, ignoring their attempts. She was not human in truth, so the bolt didn’t kill her, but
her clothes were smoking. She put Thelembi on the ground and began to check him. He
was breathing shallowly and covered in burns across his skin. His pupils were
constricted to pinpricks, and he was clenching his teeth, shaking uncontrollably. Little
flecks of gold swirled through his irises. Maira frowned. That was not normal.
“He lives, but where is the other? Where is he Maira?” a rough voice hissed in
her mind. Looking up, she saw an afterimage of a skeletal linyth standing atop the cliffs.
“Aleene!” Maira called out as the ryshians dragged her away from Thelembi,
giving her orders but she could not comprehend them.
“They come, Maira. Go now!” the bellowing voice of the rysyth commander
woke her out of her stupor. They bundled Thelembi in blankets and slipped him onto the
conveyor. Maira looked back up the cliff, but Aleene was not there. She shook her head
and dashed for the rysyth, hopping into the tail position of one of the sentries. His rider
screamed at her, his motions ordering her to get down, but she refused.
“Let me fight! Give me a bow.” She heard the first chilling screams of omryth on
the air. The man set his jaw and handed her a bow, a rope and javelins from his kit. His
eyes were filled with worry for her.
“I am Busir. That is Ghrig. Cousin, are you sure? Without a saddle. . .”
“I don’t care! Let’s go!” she shouted above the roar of thunder. With a heave,
Busir leaped into the air screaming a war cry. Maira held tight to the spine in front of her
as his tail undulated. A stream of fire shot past her. Busir filled his lungs and shot out a
return spray of acidic poison. Maira nocked an arrow and fired behind her, aiming for the
direction of the fire. A scream of rage told her that she had hit something.
“you got his rider cousin, good shot. Hang on!” She threw the bow over her
shoulder and clung to his feathers for her life as he barrel rolled. Even with a saddle it
was a risky move. She thanked her blessings for her supernatural strength. No human
could feasibly hold on in this weather. The omryth passed over them, its rider slumped in
the saddle with the arrow in his throat. Maira looked up at the dusky black and indigo
scales, reaching for a javelin, but Ghreg was faster and more secure, standing in his
saddle and releasing one of his own javelins. It stuck in the omryth’s arm shoulder, a
non-lethal hit. Enraged, it dove on them seeking to crush Busir out of the air. Busir
dropped, matching the omryth’s tactic. The ground rushed closer. That would have been
suicide above the forest, but Busir knew what he was doing. He changed his course at
the last second, flying so close to the ground that he could have put his feet down.
“UPUPUPUPUP!” Ghrig screamed in Maira’s mind, his fear projecting his
thoughts to anything that could hear. Busir shot up, escaping the omryth by inches. It
followed, tight on Busir. The two combatants lined up perfectly. Maira’s moment had
come. She opened the loop on her rope, tied the other end around her feet with a quick
knot and jumped off the rysyth’s back.
The Embrace was the move that had made the tail riders the most feared. It was a
suicidal move, one that was an application of a game they played in training in which
they were tossed from rysyth to rysyth in the air. As she plummeted past the omryth, she
threw out the loop, praying for it to slip somewhere fim. It caught on the saddlehorn and
stuck. With a wrenching thud, the rope pulled tight. The shock made her toes tingle as
she braced herself, her body slamming into the omryth’s back, barely missing its spines.
The dead rider tumbled past her, unseated by the rope. She drew her knife and jammed it
in, the holy blade delivering its potent curse. The area around the wound putrefied before
her eyes. Now the omryth was in trouble. She was firmly atop it, in a position that
seemed stupid to the untrained: tied to the rope by the feet, which was tied to the saddle
horn far up on the omryth’s back. She had to use her arms and weapons alone She
worked her way up the scaly back, stabbing and pulling herself up. The omryth shrieked
and maneuvered, trying to shake her off. It knew that if she couldn’t be shaken, it would
die. It couldn’t risk her going off the back and tearing its wings with the rope. It couldn’t
let her fall forward and stick a knife in its face. All it could do was roll in an attempt to
catch and break the rope.
Quietly, she sat in the saddle and looked for Busir. He was flying at a distance,
watching. The omryth shot another gout of fire at him. She waited, watching the nearest
spot she had stabbed. The putrification was spreading under the saddle. With her hands
and knife, she pulled off an iridescent indigo scale from the peeling hide around the
wound and pocketed it. The omryth bellowed in pain, his muscles twitching under the
saddle. Busir came close again, trying to maneuver himself into position for her. She
had to work quickly. As the omryth flew, she waited until he flapped his wings and
slashed into the huge tendons of its right wing. The tight skin peeled away, rotting. The
omryth’s scream split the air as he began to plummet and Maira raced for the saddle,
undoing the loop.
“On your Mark!” Ghrig shouted, almost silenced by the storm.
“Here I come Busir. Catch!” Busir shot a stream of poison into the omryth’s face
as Maira jumped off, throwing the rope out. Busir caught it in his claws and rolled,
winding the rope around his body until Maira was safely atop his back. Once on, she cut
open the knot on her ankles. Her feet were swollen and purple. More than likely, her
ankles were broken. The rider looked at them as well, frowning. Shouts of triumph
echoed as the omryth hit the ground and immolated. Maira tied herself to the nearest
spine and clung to the feathers once more, her job done. She shouted her thanks to
Sorrith. Around them, the omryth retreated. Most of them were at least riderless. One
of the rysyth had gone down, but was not yet dead. Three of the company dove to tend to
him. The rest settled on the cliffs to watch the omryth retreat.
They watched in solemn respect as words were exchanged below. They were not
shared with the rysyth on the cliffs. The rider got off and limped his way to his rysyth’s
face. He sat down, leaning against it as the rysyth surrounding him dug their claws and
teeth into their wounded brother. Within moments, everyone was drenched as the rysyth
dissolved, leaving behind his dim blue gem. A sigh rose up from the witnesses. The rider
got up and took the gem in both hands. Reverently, one of the three gathered the rider in
his arms. Maira knew that the rider was dead, controlled by the gem until it was returned
to the undersea temple at Innus. Then he too would rest as the rysyth consumed him.
She saw the ghostly image of the rysyth swirling around him like a veil. His eyes pulsed
with the same blue light as the gem he held in his hands. Maira wept for both of them, as
the wing took off together.
She was covered in blankets and nestled into a down bed. Her feet had disturbed
her, pulsing and aching in time with her heart. She threw aside her blankets to inspect
them, but they were bound up.
“You are one crazy fool.” Said a bass voice at the door.
“Good morning, air marshall.” She said, poking at her bandages. A nurse came
in, ducking under Sarnath’s huge arms.
 “Don’t ‘good morning’ me, oathbreaker Maira. Not unless you can explain why
the maestros preserved your life when it is apparent that you are a suicidal nutcase.” He
crossed the room in three steps and shook her hand. The nurse tried to push him away as
he lifted Maira in a bear hug.
“Sir.” Maira wheezed, pain lancing through as her ribs popped.
“Now sir, you need to leave. I don’t need to treat broken ribs too. It’s bad enough
her ankles are nearly busted.” The nurse said sternly, her hands on he hips. Sarnath put
her down, smiling.
“Very well,” he said, “Look. We lost one, couldn’t be helped, but we could’ve
lost more. We are indebted to you. Who taught you to ride tail?”
“I worked as one for a few years after I lost Deshar. I never ran into anything
while I was in the company though. That’s the first time I have done that.” Sarnath
crossed his arms.
“Those feet were pretty swollen when we brought you in. We thought the worst.”
The nurse wagged a finger at him.
“Let me tell her. I’m the attendant.” She gave Maira a stern look. “Now Maira.
They weren’t broken, but you got lucky you got them off before the rope killed them.
You won’t be walking for a couple of days. Next time you might not be so lucky. You
could have separated your spine, dislocated your hips, jerked your feet right off—”
“I am well aware of what could have happened, nurse, but I felt that it was a last
chance to really stick it to the bastards who took down Deshar and me. If the opportunity
occurs, I will do it again.” Her expression was fierce. Sarnath grinned.
“Well, at least your heart was in the right place.” He pulled a scale out of his
pocket and handed it to her. It had hardened into something like glass and some artisan
had strung it on a necklace. “Your trophy. We have already tattooed your victory while
you slept. I suppose that makes you a vetran at both ends now.”
“Yes sir.” Maira said, treasuring the foul scale. “How long have I been out?”
“Not long. A day. The wings are still recovering from the transport. We’ve got a
long road ahead and another few days worth of transport to get you folks home.”
“Thank you for coming.” Maira said.
“It is our duty to serve, nothing more. Your undead priestess was most concerned.
Is she the one who blessed your dagger?” He pointed to the dagger on Maira’s bedside
table, inscribed with Sorrith’s marks and permanently blackened by omryth blood. Maira
shook her head.
“Sir, that knife was enchanted by Sorrith himself.” Sarnath’s eyes shot up.
“Well, now. I’m glad I wasn’t sliced by the thing. What does it say?”
“It’s named Destiny. It reads in the language of Creation: Justice will prevail in
the name of Maestro Sorrith.” Maira picked it up and fingered it, scratching at the finish
on the blade. It looked wicked now, but the edge of the blade and its markings remained
pristine. Carefully, she set it back on the table. The nurse adjusted her bandages and
poked at her tender, bruised feet. She groaned in pain as the nurse manipulated them.
“So, where is Aliyah?” she asked
“She’s tending to the dead.” Sarnath said, “I’ve sort of stayed out of her way. I
have to be strong for my wings, but she’s been in my nightmares these past few days.
How can she suffer like that? I haven’t the heart to ask her. Quite honestly I can’t even
meet her eyes. . .or. . .what’s left in their place.”
 “She does not suffer. That is her nature. She might feel a bit dried out, but she
can’t feel pain like you or I.”
“Right. Just don’t tell anyone I’m spooked by her. And er. . .it would be for the
best if you didn’t mention the hug. I have an image, you know.” Maira nodded.
“Yes sir.”
“For the record, I need to apologize for mistrusting you earlier. I just see those
oathbreaker marks and my hackles rise. Even with the marks of absolution over them,
they kind of stand out.”
“That is my curse to bear. I did lose Deshar and no amount of absolution can fill
that void in my soul, even thirty years gone.”
“Has it really been thirty years? You don’t look like you’re over fifty. You look
more like twenty.” He frowned, pondering “Where has the time gone? You were chosen
the year I took this post. Does the ryshian blessing still apply to you after all?” he
referred to the slowing of the aging process that occurred as a side effect of the bond.
“Er. . .something like that.” Maira muttered.
“Don’t worry. You’ll be back on your feet soon enough. Probably by the end of
the week. I don’t care too much for what the nurse tells us. I think we heal a might faster
than everyone else.” Maira nodded.
“I bring you herbs, cousin.” Aliyah’s ravaged body appeared in the doorway. She
held a tray of food for her.
“How is the rider?” Maira asked. Sarnath jumped as he realized Miara was not
speaking to him.
“He knows he is in a safe place. The rysyth will carry him to Innus as soon as
they deal with us. They are all too weary to fly right now.”
“Indeed. The trip and the battle were hard. By the way Maira, we are officially
displeased with you. The maneuver was effective but it was reckless and suicidal. That’s
for last resort only and you know it.” He frowned. “Well, you two need to catch up on
a few things. May Caius bless you.” He saluted her and walked out, closing the door
behind him. Aliyah shook her head.
“By Sorrith it’s good to see you. The merchants toast your victory. How did it
feel to ride baretail?”
“Like staring Lord Sorrith in the face.” Maira said. Aliyah gave a small smile.
“Like that?” she asked, awed.
“Oh yes.” Maira whispered. “What sort of herbs are you giving me?”
“I got some from the rysyth storehouse. I got some to eat and this healing one.”
She held a bottle of salve made from a crushed herb. That salve was ineffective on
humans, but did a wonder on rysyth wounds. “ It has to be applied to an open wound.”
“Very well.” Maira said. “Where are you going to cut?”
“Your feet, of course. I thought maybe if I helped relieve some of the swelling
first, you know. . .”
“Heh. You mean you want to snack. Well, go on. Doctor me.” Aliyah stood
straight, her spine creaking and popping.
“I take exception to that, cousin. You know I can’t partake of mortal sustinence.
The riders don’t trust me or provide a small politeness, and the rysyth are too weary for
me to take any from them.”
“They don’t understand.”
 “No, they won’t listen to their rysyth on the subject. It sickens them.” She rolled
up the bandages as she removed them. She drew a tiny knife and opened the angry flesh.
Blood welled up immediately and she began to suck. Maira’s feet throbbed as the
swelling was drawn out. Aliyah seemed very pleased. When she finished, she applied
the salve and bound them back up. She looked a little better. Calmly, she put water in
the pot above the fire and boiled the herbs.
“The rysyth say that you were spectacular. They say that they could almost see
you in your true form as you jumped. They pray for your quick healing.”
“That’s very kind of them.”
“Sorrith is pleased with your actions, though he cautions you to remember that
you do not have permission to die yet.”
“Hmm. Well, I suppose that is good news. Anything else?”
“Thelembi has been inconsolable. He’s been trying to impress you all the way
here and you just pinched his neck and threw him into the conveyor like a sack. That was
pretty heartless of you.” Maira shrugged.
“He wouldn’t fly. The omryth were coming and he was afraid. I couldn’t take his
cowardice just then. The lives of others were at stake.” Aliyah nodded. “How are his
burns? We were struck by lightening just before the attack.”
“You know, they were healed the next day. He was up on his feet like he had
never been struck. His eyes are strange though. I’ve never seen any quite like them.”
“Yes. You know, it’s strange, but just after I was hit, I saw. . .”
“You saw a sister named Aleene.” Aliyah said calmly. “She has revealed herself
to me. She told me her history. She wants to speak to you concerning Thelembi.”
“But that’s impossible! That was over thirty years ago! Thelembi’s just a kid.”
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing. Just. . .can you take me to her?”
“In a moment.” She pulled the kettle off the fire and poured the liquid into a
drinking bowl. Maira sipped at the sorching hot liquid and settled back on her pillows.
“It’s too hot.” Maira commented, setting it beside her knife. “If we go now, it
will be cool when I get back.” Aliyah gave her a stern look and sighed, then offered her
back. Maira climbed on, Aliyah’s ribs poking into hers. She was starting to smell like
spices.
Aleene stood alone on the top of the mountain. She was skeletal, little more than
toughened hide over bone, but her eyes shone an intense white, reflecting the light of her
gem underneath her horn. Aliyah set Maira down on the ground. Maira tried to stand,
but pain lanced up her legs.
“You have one of them, cousin. Where is the other?” she asked, lowering her
head and bearing her horn. Aliyah watched Aleene closely, ready to intercept a charge.
“I don’t understand. Aleene, it’s good to see you again. Have you heard anything
of Rearus?” Aleene tossed her horn from side to side.
“They told me they yet lived. Where is the other? You forgot him.”
“Thelembi was alone, cousin. What are you talking about?”
“You know I speak of my sons. Thelembi and Rahli. The maestros said that they
would watch over them.”
“That was thirty years ago. Thelembi’s just a kid.” Aliyah shook her head.
 “We really don’t know how old he is. He doesn’t know. He’s an urchin, Maira.
He’s been underground—”
“He is my son, the firstborn of the twins I bore five years before I died. I can
smell him.” She pawed the ground. “He would age slower than a pure human.”
“But thirty-five years? He looks to be no more than fifteen at the most!”
“It may be so.” Said Aliyah. “Cousin Aleene, Thelembi’s brother is dead. He
was shot by the huntmaster. I asked about him when Thelembi told us about his wounds.
He should still be at Feasthall. Aleene, he was a cripple. Someone in their greed had cut
off his golden toes in his infancy. Sorrith let him die so that Theli could escape.” Aleene
snapped her head up. For a few tense minutes, Aleene’s eyes dimmed to black. She
returned, snorting.
“I see. I have followed your caravan these last few weeks because of him. He
looks human. Let him believe that is what he is. Tell him he is a chosen of Meranna. He
is a mage and a stormcaller. As long as he looks human, just let him believe the lie.”
Maira blinked in wonder. Stormcallers were linyth who could control the weather by the
blessing of Meranna. To find the trait in a halfbreed was unheard of save in legend.
Halfbreeds were cursed by their very birth. Then she remembered the Maestros’ gift to
lift the curse from her sons.
“But Aleene. . .”
“No. He is a good boy. Just do that for me.”
“Why don’t you come down and see him? He’d be honored to meet you.” Maira
said. Aleene chortled and tossed her tangled mane.
“What, like this? Cousin, I would more likely frighten him off! No. I will
check on him when I can, but I cannot reveal myself to him. I am sorry that I was upset.
I didn’t realize that Rahli was crippled. He was fine when I left him with that caravan.”
“You will have to ask Rahli now. Not even Thelembi remembers what
happened.” Maira said quietly. She held her hand out. Aleene walked up and rested her
chin on Maira’s shoulder. Maira rubbed Aleene’s thin neck.
“Thank you for taking him out of there. I entrust him to you. I warn you though,
the lives of halfbreeds are strange. He may live as long as we do, or he may die in a
human’s span of years, even having taken this long to mature.”
“I will try, as far as my duties will allow.”
“Then that is all I can ask.”
“How have you been, dear sister?” Aleene pawed the ground again.
“Oh, I have gone where the wind and Sorrith take me. I have gotten a little
thinner, but it does not matter to me anymore. I am the same as I was the day that you
last saw me. I know it seems long to you, but I have lost track of the days dear one.”
“Not quite the same.” Maira said quietly.
“Heh. I suppose not.” She said, “I could use some blood, but my enemies are
stricken now by merely my appearance. It is as I would have it. After all, beauty is a
luxury of the living.” She stepped back and turned.
“Goodbye sister. You and I will meet someday in the feasthall.” Aliyah said in
blessing.
“We will all meet there one day. Even Rearus. He has children now. They look
just like him, the first Esyth to be born in the forest in hundreds of years. His wife is
adjusting to her new adaptions, but they are both blissfilly happy. You probably won’t
find him though. He is not keen to be discovered while his children are small.”
“I understand.” Maira said.
“Of course you do. You will want to hide your eggs when they come as well. By
the way, he named his female after you—Deshar Maira.” Maira blushed.
“You spoke to him then?”
“No. I watched their birth from the shadows. I didn’t wish to trouble his wife.”
She put her ears back. “I suppose that there are things I miss about being alive. But I
must go. Sorrith calls me away. I am not supposed to be back here, but I could not
continue without hearing of my sons. Thelembi could not have fallen to a better
caretaker. As to Rahli, I will petition Sorrith to meet with him before he goes on to
Merrana. May Sorrith bless you both.” She dipped her head in parting. Then, like
morning fog, she was gone.
By the end of the week, Maira was walking, though she was still sore. When it
came time to transport the goods again, Thelembi cornered her early in the morning.
“Lady Maira, I need to ask you. Can I go with you? On top I mean.”
“Oh? On top of the Rysyth? Can you go without fear?” Thelembi stuck out his
thin chest.
“I will not be afraid ever again.” he pouted. Maira patted his back.
“Then you will be a true Togri warrior. I’ll tell you what; you can ride the first
transport with Aliyah. How does that sound?” Thelembi beamed, pleased. “I knew that
would be right. The merchants have a surprise for you when you get to Tree City. They
have decided to make you a full member of our tribe. Long ago, our ancestors ran away
from Arynstar too. We believe the council will be glad to have you.” Maira shooed him
away “Go on now, I have to prepare the first conveyor.” He walked off, his head a little
higher. Maira went back to her room and pulled a small hide book from her desk. It
contained all of the important information she and Aliyah had learned from him. All
together, it would give the tattoo artists enough to draw his circle. They had both agreed
on adjusting his age to reflect his appearance. He would never know he was over twice
that old and neither would the Togri. She handed it to one of the merchants as they were
loading the first wing.
Aliyah approached her after the first wing was away.
“You did well by him Maira.” She said, standing next to her on the platform as
the laden rysyth disappeared over the horizon. She chuckled. “You didn’t tell him what
the surprise was, did you?” Maira grinned.
“No. I don’t think he would have gone willingly under the needle, but maybe this
way, he can get the job done by the time we get there. I gave the book to the merchants,
and they have been anxious to get it done. They’ve all sort of adopted him.
“Yes, but just remember, Aleene put him in your charge.”
“I know.” AliYah looked at Miara.
“Maira, I need you to do me a favor. I need you to put me in a crate. I can’t let
my parents see me like this, not until I have settled my disposition with the shrine.”
Maira set her jaw.
“They will hunt me down. I am responsible for you and—”
“And you allowed me to follow the path requested of me by a Maestro. That I am
dead means nothing in that light. . .but you are correct. My dad is a real ass when it
comes to dealing with you. Still, It would not do for me to be discovered before I am
suitably prepared to explain things to them.”
“Then let’s find a good place to hide you.” After looking through the remaining
goods, they chose to wrap her up in one of the bolts of cream colored linen cloth meant
for the shrine of Sorrith. She was so thin that when the bolt was rolled up again, she left
only a small, irregular bulge.
The trip to Tree City took only half the time. Once the first wing arrived,
celebration broke out among the citizens as families were reunited and goods were
unloaded. The city sent seven wings to help with the rest of the goods on Scout point.
They came in great reverence, knowing that there was a fallen rider waiting for passage
to Innus. As the wings flew in, Maira watched carefully. If Connus was among the
wings, she would have to take care. He was Aliyah’s father’s soulbond, and if he came
there would be no escaping her father, Rishaud. When the last of the wings flew in, she
breathed a sigh of relief. His wing was out on maneuvers. They had been called in by a
messenger the same day that the first conveyor wing landed, but it could be days or
weeks before they would return to partake in the bounty.
This left Maira free to show off her new marks to the riders and talk at leisure
with the rysyth. The fallen rider was given a place of honor in the saddle of the wing
leader’s rysyth. Maira rode in that wing at the end, the only passenger. The rysyth felt it
was fitting for her to be in the funeral wing. Not only would it honor the memory of
Deshar, but her hands held the log of those who had not survived the trip. Their circles
were traced on hide, and would be completed and preserved in their memory. Only
Sahra’s circle was missing, but it would be remembered. She deserved some of the
highest honor.
As they unloaded the rysyth, she still kept a wary eye out for Aliyah’s parents.
The people on the landing left her alone to do her job. For that, he breathed a sigh of
relief. She had nobody to greet and she needed to work quickly and disappear quietly.
She sorted through the goods in the warehouse and found the bolts meant for the shrine.
“Aliyah, are you there?” she asked
“I’ve been here, right where they tossed me. Unroll me, would you? I’m tired of
being restrained.” Maira chuckled.
“Just a bit longer. I have to take the cloth with me to the shrine. I’m a devotee of
Sorrith and they know it. They will expect me to take this stuff there.”
“How convenient.” Aliyah said dryly as Maira loaded the bundles of cloth and
boxes of desert spices into a transport. These were wheeled handcarts designed to
navigate on the walkways of the city. When she had loaded all she could carry, she made
her way to the temple, weaving her way through the reveling people.
“Hey, cousin. What’s wrong?” Maira asked, sensing something amiss with her
apprentice.
“I didn’t think about this. I forgot about the feast. I was supposed to dance this
year.” Maira winced. The dance was a rite of passage for young men and women of
Togri culture. Unless the youth was a bound Ryshian, it was tradition to choose a spouse
at the age of fifteen.
“Well,” Maira sighed, “It was your choice.”
“You don’t need to be cruel.” She said, “you know our Lord asked for me
specifically.”
 “I’m sorry. I’m just not looking forward to meeting with your parents. Rishaud
still hasn’t forgiven me for living.”
Aliyah smiled “They’re stubborn. Why do you think I volunteered for Ryshian
training? It got me out from under mom’s rule.”
“It’s not just that, Aliyah. Years ago, before you were born, Rishaud and I were
considering marriage. Connus was Deshar’s mate, and it only seemed right before
Caius. . .then I lost her. Your dad and Connus have never forgiven me.” Aliyah went
silent for a long time.
“He never told me. Now I understand. How hard was it for you to accept me?”
“I had no qualm with you. You gave me trouble on his behalf, I think you will
remember quite well. We’ve only been together five years as master and apprentice. I
will miss your help.”
“Well, you are nearing the end of a human’s number of years.” Maira shuddred,
wondering what would become of her if that was true.
“I don’t need to be reminded. I fear for the future.”
“Don’t. Your future lies with Sorrith.” She said, sounding precisely as a priestess
should.
The priests of the shrine of Sorrith at Tree city were not inclined to join in the
feasts to other gods. The return feast was always dedicated to Caius. The shrine itself
was a library of genealogy and a place of preparation. When Maira entered, Idirith the
acting high priest, looked up from his embalming. Aliyah had her hood up, her face
hidden. He squinted, trying to see them in the sunlight shining through the door.
“Blessed Maira, you should be at the festival. What brings you to this shrine so
soon?”
“I have been to the temple at Arynstar.” Maira said. Idirith wiped his hands and
covered the body with a linen sheet.
“Is that so? I was not aware that it still stood.”
“It does, and it still thrives. They prepare for rebellion from under the city. The
apostate king may learn quickly that he dare not persecute the chosen so lightly.” Idirith
clapped his hands and barked a grim laugh.
“By Sorrith that is good news. Now if we could only convince the temple to
actively move against them, we may indeed do some damage to those blasted omryth.”
“The time may be sooner than you think. I have a gift for you.” Maira pulled out
Aliyah’s bolt of linen and unrolled it. Calmly, Aliyah stood and removed her hood
revealing her flesh, still dessicated from the trip across the desert. Idirith wept to see her,
his knees weak and his hands tembling.
“By all the gods. . .can it be true at last? Has Sorrith finally blessed us with a
watcher?” Aliyah lifted her shirt, revealing her white gem. Idirith fell to his knees before
her. Gently, she put a withered hand on Idirith.
“The time has come for you as well. A true temple needs a high priest. I am also
of the priesthood, but I am the first, I am a watcher. You are to be the head of this temple,
even as you were the caretaker of this shrine.” She drew from her belt pouch a black orb.
Idirith’s hands shook, but he dared not touch it.
“I will be glad to serve. This is beyond hope.” She returned the orb to its pouch.
He got up, eyes streaming with tears of joy, and pushed the basin of collected blood
toward her. “Here. The trip must have been long for you. He died only this morning.
Drink and be refreshed, my lady.”
“Hmm, I am no lady.” She said and knelt, dipping her face in. Idirith and Maira
both looked away.
“Idirith, I bring sad news. . .Sahra Ferdis, descendent of Werrin Cala Ferdis is
dead. She died by her own hand, when she was trapped in the King’s temple.” She said,
drawing the log book from her pack.
“You mean Sahra Nadar.” He said, receiving it.
“No. The thing she was married to no longer exists. He chose to abandon the
maestros.”
“That is a pity. The Nadar family will be most upset. I will handle that. I am
sure there are enough witnesses in the caravan that we can get an accurate case of his
treachery.”
“I witnessed his death myself.” Maira looked over her shoulder at Aliyah, who
was just finishing her meal. She had stripped off her shirt and was sucking on the blood
that had soaked into the fabric. Maira shook her head.
“Aliyah, you’re an absolute mess.” Aliyah put her hands on her restored hips.
“But it’s so good Maira. You should taste it.”
“No thanks.” Maira mumbled. Idirith began to put the basin back in place while
Aliyah reached for a new robe. She seemed to know where everything was located.
Idirith simply watched her with an enchanted expression on his face. He looked up at
Maira.
“How can I ever thank you? I must prepare! Oh by Sorrith, I didn’t know
Sorrith’s children still roamed Caln.”
“The church at Arynstar hardly roams.” Idirith inspected every inch of her.
“But Aliyah, dear one, you are only fifteen. You perished so young. Death was
not an easy choice.”
“I am blessed now, Idirith. I believe that since Sorrith himself asked for my
death, there would be nothing worthwhile in life. I do not regret my choice.”
“You are wise, young one. No doubt that is due to the teachings of Lord Sorrith
himself. We need to do a few things before you can stay here sister Aliyah. I apologize.
This is merely a shrine. Even I have a home to go to at the end of the day. It would not
be right to send you home to your family. You don’t belong with the living anymore.”
“What needs done?” Aliyah sat on the altar steps, licking her fingers. Idirith
smiled.
“Well, for one, you require your funerary marks. You are properly dead, after all.
I will call your parents here tomorrow morning. Do you think you can get yourself into
the ink house tonight?” Maira and Aliyah groaned.
“But Idirith, Aliyah must also complete the final tasks assigned to her in life.”
Idirith gave Maira a patient smile.
“You are so foolish Maira. Since when are the righteous dead required to do
anything they were supposed to do while alive?” Maira paused, at a loss for a response,
her jaw hanging open. Aliyah put her hand on Maira’s arm.
“I want to go, Idirith. I owe her, and being undead is not quite as final as true
death.” Maira smiled at her.
 “We need to get to the temple and report on the Masyth sale and my request to cut
off trade with Arynstar. They have become too risky. I lost too many on this venture for
a quarter of our usual profit. We were nearly taxed into debt trying to trade this year.”
Idirith winked at Aliyah.
“Well, then Aliyah must choose. . .but if my memory of the holy text serves me,
you don’t really need your body.” Aliyah’s eyes went wide. Her hands went to her soul
gem. Quickly, she pulled up her hood and grabbed Maira’s arm. She was strong enough
that Maira could not resist her pull.
“Come on Maira, let’s go.” She said, dragging Maira out. They went quickly to
the tattoo house.
The Tattoo house was a place for slaves who had artistic talent to contribute to
society. Slaves in the Togri nation were like no other slaves on Caln. They were
respected and pitied at the same time. They were never sold, but were by law and
tradition, given the best care and treatment available. The temple and the shrines funded
their owners well. Togri slaves were above laborers in society. They were all from other
professions, and once had respectable jobs, but somewhere in their history had become
incapable of doing it—usually through disabling injury. They could not be beaten, and
they were always treated with politeness. It was the laborers—the able bodied ones who
did the work of slaves for a wage—that were kicked and beaten.
Tattooing was the most important job in Togri society, and a job that only slaves
were allowed to do. The building was long and low on its platform, firmly constructed to
house the people who worked and lived within it. Inside, slaves worked on people as
they came in during the course of their lives to mark important moments upon their life
circle.
“Maira! Help!” cried a young voice from the third stall. The plea was followed
by the sound of a hand striking flesh and surly muttering. Aliyah and Maira stopped to
peek in. Thelembi was there, tied down by the hands, feet, and one across his neck The
slave, a woman born with twisted feet, worked colors into his flesh with a rysyth feather
needle. He had a red mark across his bare backside where the slave had slapped him for
moving. Both Maira and Aliyah chuckled.
“You got thrown in fast.”
“The caravan merchants abducted me! Get me out of here! She keeps poking me
with that needle!”
“Relax Theli. You are now a member of our tribe. All of us have gone through
this process, though we were infants when we got ours!”
“You all have flesh like Drami. Let me up, slave.” This time it was Aliyah who
slapped him.
“You just came from a fate worse than slavery and you have the gall to insult this
one? She is doing you a service Thelembi Porter. I suggest you treat her with respect.
Unless you want to be sent back to Arynstar, you will have to endure this. Be a man
already. This is the surprise we told you of. Once the marks are applied, you will be
under our glorious law and allowed to worship the maestros as is your right.” Thelembi
set his jaw as the slave continued her painstaking work.
“This is some surprise.” He grumbled sarcastically.
“You are doing a fine job.” Aliyah said to the slave.
 “Blessed are those who remember the enslaved.” The woman muttered. “My
thanks to you my lady.”
“Who among you does the best funerary tattoos? I have an immediate need.”
Aliyah said quietly. The slave’s eyes went wide. She pointed down to the end, where
tattoo bays were set with muslin curtains. With a final nod of thanks, she led Maira back.
At the final stall in the building a man sat; his legs wasted and thin. He was drawing on a
scraped piece of hide.
“I am Jerrod, I specialize in funerary tattoos. How may I serve you ladies?” he
said with great sadness.
“I need you to give me my funerary tattoos by tomorrow morning.” Aliyah said.
Jerrod said nothing, staring at his hide and fiddling with his charcoal.
“Funerary tattoos are for the dead.” He muttered. “Why do you taunt me? Go
find another.” He adjusted his weight, turning his back on them. Aliyah knelt down to
his level. He looked over his shoulder. “Are you dying? You are too young and too
mobile to die.” Aliyah touched him. He caught her hand, considering it. “Don’t. Don’t
touch me.”
“Jerrod, I am already dead. I have been dead since before we left Arynstar.”
Jerrod looked at her, his sorrowful eyes appraising her body, restored after an entire basin
full of blood. He took her pulse and was astonished to find nothing. “See? I do not lie to
you.” She said as she lay back on the table. She put her fingers into the flesh around her
gem and pulled it away. “Maira, would you please?” Maira lifted the gem from her
body. Instantly, her corpse dropped.
“Well, Jerrod, she asked you to get to work. Go on. I will return in the morning.”
Jerrod looked from Maira to Aliyah’s corpse.
“What is this?” he asked, trembling.
“It is a gift of Sorrith to his chosen few.” Maira said.
“Sorrith is a cruel maestro to choose one so young.” He despaired.
“Not so. How young were you when you broke your back?” Maira asked,
guessing at his injury.
“I was not much older than she is. I was a tail rider—second squad. My harness
broke and I fell off. . .”
“I bet you wished you had died.”
“I still do, lady.”
“Yet in you, Sorrith did not choose one so young. Aliyah was dying of sun
sickness. Even if she had survived, it would have damaged her mind.”
“You are wise, my lady.” He opened his kit. “I will do as she has asked.” Maira
nodded.
“She is a consecrated, undead priestess of Sorrith. Keep this in mind when you
do your work.”
“My lady, I will design upon her a work of art such as befits a chief, but the
longer you remain, the less time I have to finish.” Maira told Jerrod all he needed to
complete Aliyah’s designs. Then she put Aliyah’s gem in her belt pouch and walked
away. At the door, she stopped. The foreman looked at her with a bored expression.
“If any ask after her, she is not here. Do not let anyone but me back to Jerrod’s
stall.”
 “As you wish.” said the foreman, marking something down in his ledger.
Satisfied, Maira left. Her next stop was the temple of Caius. Revelers danced around her
as she waded through the crowd. Many of them stopped her to give a flower or a small
trinket in thanks for leading the caravan home. She didn’t feel like she deserved the
tokens. There had been too many deaths, too many problems.
“They were not your fault. It would have happened anyway.”Aliyah observed.
“But I still have to answer for them.” Maira sighed as she entered the forecourt of
the temple.
The temple of caius was an architectural wonder. It was made of a single, dead
Ullis tree, suspended and kept from sinking by rysyth magic and a stable foundation of
the root systems surrounding it . It had been the first structure built after the formation of
the contract and was carved inside and out by both rysyth and human. The entire tree
was honeycombed with living, worshipping and working spaces for all the devoted from
the highest priest to the newest ryshian and his soulbond.
Maira walked up to the temple doors. The single guard stood at the ready, but his
rysyth was snoozing.
“Oathbreaker Maira. Why have you come?” Maira put her hand on her knife.
“I have come to give my report to the temple.” She said calmly, irked at being
called an oathbreaker. The priests had never come up with a better term for her. No one
had ever been absolved of their rysyth’s demise before. The rysyth opened a bleary blue
eye.
“Let her pass Ruess.” he said as he yawned, opening his mouth an impressive 140
degrees, His fish spearing fangs, normally folded back, stretched forward as far as they
would go. “Morning cousin Maira. Glad to see that you made it home.” He was very
young to have chosen a bond, his juvenile feathers still stubbornly hanging on in his
crest, tail and belly. Usually rysyth were well into maturity by the time they decided to
accept a bond.
“Thanks . . . err. . .”
“I’m Rosh.” He puffed up with pride. Ruess tossed a chunk of his lunch at Rosh.
“preen yourself pup.” He joked. “You heard what the air marshalls said.” Rosh
laid his feathers back down against his head and cleared his throat, imitating Werrin. He
began to recite in rysir, one claw pointed in the air.
“The bonded must be humble before Caius, he must be ever vigilant, ever alert--”
“Ever awake.” Ruess grumbled, interrupting him. Maira chuckled. Rosh huffed,
flexing his fangs.
“Oh now that’s harsh, in this heat. Besides. You’re awake. I got up for Maira.”
Ruess shook his head and walked over to scratch Rosh’s gums.
“You’ve got to excuse him. He’s a bit of an upstart. It would figure I was bonded
by the youngest Rysyth to choose the path of Caius in four millennia.”
“I prefer to think of myself as a prodigy.” Rosh commented.
“Yeah. Go on in. Marshal Ferdis never celebrates these days.”
“She never did.” Maira said seriously. “Even in my day.” She sighed and walked
through the door.
The last time she had seriously spoken with Werrin Calla Ferdis, the meeting had
not gone well. She was one of those lucky few ryshians that had survived the battles and
training to climb to the highest seat on the chain of ryshian command. She was nearly
200 years old, and she was starting to show her age. The ryshian council forced her out
of active service after she hit 150, but she still retained her power as the air marshal.
Werrin was just as scarred as she, a cantankerous old rysyth without a humorous bone in
her body. Both had seen too many deaths, too many battles, and too many mistakes.
Deshar’s death was always between them. Werrin was forgiving, knowing that she was
no longer human, but nothing she could do would break Calla of her icy disapproval.
“Well, servant of Sorrith, how did you fare?” Calla said as Maira stepped into her
office.
“Marshal, I have my report.” Calla looked at her with cold eyes.
“My granddaughter was not with your caravan. Where is she Maira?” Maira
looked away. “She’s dead isn’t she? She was my youngest, you know.”
“I had intended for Idirith to tell you. She died in honor. My report will reveal
it.”
“You failed, you know. I saw the pitiful amount you brought home. I knew that
one such as you could not be trusted to do the best for our people, but the council
overturned me. They listen to their ryshian bonds and believe you implicitly, but I do
not.”
“Is that why I don’t sense Werrin here? What have you done? Have you shut her
out? How do you do that? How can you?” Maira was shocked. No matter where Deshar
was, Maira remembered being linked to her mind, always there when she closed her eyes.
A rysyth had the capacity to shut their humans out of parts of their mind, but only
because they were born telepaths. Ryshians merely inherited it through the bond and had
no such ability.
“Don’t you dare speak of my bond, oathbreaker!” she shouted, losing her cool
composure, “Do you think I don’t know her inside and out? I have been alive for twelve
generations, Maira!” Calla’s eyes were a mask of hidden fears and old hatred. Maira
tossed the hide book at Calla’s desk. Her eyes stared through Calla with emotionless
intensity.
“I will not speak with you unless Marshall Werrin is nearby.” Maira said coldly.
“You have my report and I have more pressing business. Good day to you.” Maira made
it as far as the door before Calla stopped her.
“Wait. Did you do everything you could to save her?” she asked quietly. Maira
nodded.
“Her husband betrayed her into the hands of the king’s priests. I cursed him,
cursed him to rot. By Sorrith, he did. She commited suicide when she discovered that
the priests would not let her go until she converted. Marshal Ferdis, I did the best I could
do under the circumstances. Arynstar has become too evil to continue peaceful
relations.”
“She. . .she died in honor then.”
“Yes.”
“But you still failed.”
“That would be your judgement. You can make whatever conclusions you wish
after you have read the logs of all the merchants. As for me, I do not intend to go there in
friendship ever again. My suggestions are all there in that book. If you wish to continue
relations with that foul city then I believe you shall go without the blessing of the
maestros. No masyth is worth it, and no merchant deserves to trek across the Gherir only
to be taxed and persecuted.”
“We will send an envoy to negotiate if what you say is true. We can survive
without Arynstar goods, but it will be difficult.” She leaned back and sighed. “I miss the
days when we could take three trips per year with a single wing of rysyth on each trip.
Blast it all, we’re losing more than we gain every year! Do you know, Maira, that there
are now ryshians who have an apartment to themselves?” Maira blinked. She had not
been a resident of tree city for over fifteen years, and had not counted the rysyth deaths.
“No. . .” she said, her voice constricted. “Yet you still sent a caravan? That foul,
demon tainted apostate has killed more rysyth with his bloody omryth in the last thirty
years than have chosen to accept the path of Caius, and you still sent me because the
caravan master was conveniently ill?”
“Well, you were a logical choice. You are a bit old to be leading a caravan,
despite your appearances, but you were the only one besides him who had been there as a
trademaster.”
“How kind of you to remember. I bet the caravan master was not ill at all.”
“Oh, yes he was. In fact, he died while you were away.”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t know what we were going to have to endure this year.”
“No. I suppose I will have to read your rag.”
“I will not be your trademaster again unless the king improves his policies.”
“Get out of my office.” Calla ordered quietly. “You had better pray that I read of
good reasons for this horrible venture.” Maira said nothing more. She let the door slam
behind her as she left the office and walked out of the empty sanctuary. Her sigil felt
cold, a sign that Sorrith was unable to watch her here. It was, after all, blessed to another
Maestro.
“Maira, lady Maira!” a young one tugged at her pants. She stopped, looking
down at the young boy. He barely reached her waist, and he was wiry, his body already
toned with thin, ropy muscles from months of training. He smiled up at her.
“Allum says you need to come down to the ryshian apartments. He says there’s
an elder there looking for you.”
“Allum?” Maira asked, thinking of that ancient rysyth that had taught all of the
ryshians the legends. He had died the same year that Deshar did, but of natural causes.
“My bond, maira. He’s named after the storyteller. He was the only male born of
old Allum’s last mating. ‘least that’s what my bond says.”
“Your bond? You’re bonded? Who are you?” the kid cocked his head at maira.
“My name is Allum Merran Tiesen. I’m nine! I was selected last year! Don’t
you remember?” Maira shook her head. The kids looked younger every year.
“You should take me down to see this elder.” The kid took her hand and tugged.
“Right this way!”
The ryshian apartments were at the base of the temple, next to the water. They
were arranged in a semi-circular fashion, three stories up to the ceiling. The center of the
area was a large open pool filled with salt water. Here, rysyth could climb from of the
ocean and out into the forest without the long trip over the forest. There was a huge set
of doors that was opened only to admit rysyth, who could then climb up the side of the
temple and onto the upper platforms. There were two lounging in the pool. The younger
one, looking just a bit older than Rosh, was obviously Allum. The other was Berang.
 “Maira! Young cousin, you’re here!” Berang’s voice filled her with joy.
“Berang! By Sorrith, what brings you this far from the island?” Berang floated
to the side of the pool and rested his jaws on the side. Maira walked over, still careful
with her tender feet.
“Oh, I have been considering the path of Caius at last. Well, I’ve been thinking
about it since I met you, but it’s been pressing on my mind lately. If human kind can turn
out a creature like you, then perhaps they are not as bad as I have believed.” Allum
nodded.
“It took you four hundred years to figure that out? I knew from the moment I
fledged.” Allum scratched his neck and then preened his pinions.
“I’m not from a bloodline as dedicated to Caius as yours, pup. My family comes
from Dorrum Trench, not Innus.” Berang looked down his node at Maira. “ How can
you stand to wear that ugly body?” He asked honestly. Allum was shocked, hearing it.
Maira laughed.
“Oh, it takes some getting used to. It’s a bit tight across the chest, but other than
that, well. . .I hate it. Truly. I can only have faith that the Maestros knew what they were
doing.”
“We heard about the hardships of the trip. They say you got to see the temple of
Sorrith at Arynstar. The esyth built that, you know. Years ago. Before humans ever
came.”
“I just assumed humans built it.” Both Allum and Berang laughed. Even Aliyah
chuckled. Berang and Allum both cocked their heads at the sound.
“Oh, Maestros love you young one, you still think like a human. You think a
human, even an undead one, could build anything with that kind of magic and blessing
built into it? The active caretakers might be his chosen undead, like the one you’ve got
in your pocket, but long ago the esyth kept their dead there. Arynstar was an esyth city
first.” Berang concentrated on Maira’s pouch. “Well, blessed cousin, why don’t you
show yourself?” Berang asked. A ghostly figure appeared next to Maira, appearing as
she did the day she died. Merram squeaked, seeing her, and called out for Allum. Allum
floated over and comforted him.
“Is. . .are you a ghost for real?” he asked of Aliyah. Berang watched with
amusement at the boy as Allum pushed him forward gently with his snout. Aliyah
walked through the railings and across the water. She passed right through the boy and
he shivered.
“Not really.” She said serenely. “I have a body, it’s just not with me right now.
Why don’t you and Allum go off and enjoy the feast? All the other ryshians are out.”
“’Cause, ma’am. I got in trouble for sneaking out with him. They made me scrub
the walkways and he’s been cleaning the under passages.” Maira snorted. She
remembered getting into similar trouble with Deshar, but that was before the king made a
pact with the omryth.
“I need to talk to Berang alone young one.” Maira said. Merram’s eyes went wide
and he saluted her before running away up the stairs. Allum swam over to the doors and
knocked. They opened silently, revealing the dark of the forest’s heart. A rysyth sat on
each side of the door with their riders watching as he walked out. The door slammed
behind him as Berang was explaining things to the sentries.
“Well, Maira, we’d better go before anyone else comes down.”
 “Excuse me?”
“Well, as I was saying, your trip has been long and hard. We wanted to treat you
to a night down in the temple at Innus.”
“I have to be back by morning. I’ve got to be there for Aliyah.”
“No problem. I understand your devotion to Sorrith. Aliyah can come too, by the
way. There’s always room for a blessed cousin, with or without her body.” Maira looked
around, then dove in. She grabbed onto Berang and held her breath as he swam down
into the tunnels. As soon as she was out of the sight f the Tree city temple, she expanded
into her true form. She extended her wings and swam as effortlessly through the water as
she flew through the air. Berang stopped and waited for her to stretch out her body. Then
he led her onward.
At the end of the tunnel, a large bulb shaped room was built. At first, maira
thought they were in the open ocean, but the ambient light that seemed to be everywhere
reflected off the clear, polished walls There was nobody here, except a few strange
creatures that looked like masyth, who were busy polishing the walls. They had the same
general body shape, but their limbs were different, designed for life underwater.
“Things are a bit different down here.” Berang said, commenting on the beasts.
“This is the marshalling room, the very bottom of the Tree City temple. Here is where
bonded rysyth Those are masyth. Remember how the legends say that masyth are a
servitor race? That is true. So, just as there are two different kinds of rysyth, there are
two different kinds of masyth. Do not bother them. They are doing their jobs.”
“There are two different kinds? Deshar never said anything about that!”
“Of course not. Why would a human ever have reason to speak with the
oceanbound? You will, of course, be meeting one or two of them soon enough.” Maira
swam over to one of the transparent walls. It was solid.
“It is magically treated stone. It will not break.”
“Why don’t we have anything like this?”
“Because it takes a great deal of magic to make it. Three hundred seventy-two
rysyth mages died in the creation of this room--.one for every day of the year. Their gems
still watch it to this day, imbedded in the frame of the great door. Under their watchful
eye, we need never post guards to this place.” He pointed to a glittering ring in the base
of the bulb where the gems were placed. Berang beckoned her down. The door opened
like an iris, and they swam out into the open ocean at last.
The sight of Innus took Maira’s breath away. It was a city built of dead ullis trees,
stone and corral. It was built on a scale to match its builders, and the walls glittered with
light and magic. Rysyth swam peacefully, going about their business as if they were
human. Maira had never felt so small.
“It really puts things in perspective.” Aliyah said.
“Behold Innus, the city of Origin. This city was built here when the Ullis trees
were saplings in the tidal marshes.”
“It’s beautiful. More beautiful than Deshar ever showed me.” Maira said.
“We have to go down. You are not as fast, and if you wish to get home by
morning, I suggest you hold onto my belly. I fear you’re just not capable of riding my
back.” Maira folded her feet up and grabbed Berang’s feathers with her human hands and
her hind feet. Her tail wrapped around one of his legs. Berang’s muscles bunched up and
he pushed through the water like an arrow. The streets of Innus were populated with
rysyth buying and selling food and goods.
“I didn’t know Innus had a market.”
“Of course. Humans taught us to barter. We can’t dally here. I have to take you
to the temple. Marshall Werrin told me that Marshall Ferdis might not listen to you.
They wanted to get a hold of you as soon as you were safely home to make sure that your
reports weren’t tampered. You can, of course, come or stay as often as you like. I am
surprised that you haven’t done so before.” Maira smiled, sadly.
“It took a long time to even look at your kind without wanting to cry. By the time
I felt well enough to try, I was too busy with the Masyth and my duties or too close to
humans. Time just got away from me.”
“I understand.”
“Hey, it is the Maira!” called a high pitched voice.
“Oh, great.” Berang rolled his eyes as an oddly formed rysyth swam up to meet
them.
“Maira, this is friar Savrin of Caius. He is an oceanbound.” She let go of Berang
to greet the new Rysyth. He was covered in tiny feathers rather than the large ones on
Berang. He was at least a tail length longer than Berang, and at least twice as thick. his
hind legs were merely simple fins, while his arms were long and flexible, with hands that
bore only tiny claws. Looking at those hands, she finally saw how the rysyth could
perform such delicate artistry. His wings were shorter than Berang’s and lacked the fight
pinions, but they were thick and meant for swimming. There was little doubt that this
one could out-swim Berang if he chose.
“I didn’t even know such as you existed.” Maira said, awed. Savrin grinned.
“I could say the same of you, lass. At least my kind is known. You are something
entirely new.”
“But why?” maira asked of both of them. Both cocked their heads.
“You don’t know? We are creatures of water, Maira. Clouds are as much water
as the ocean and so, there have always been two kinds of rysyth. We, the oceanbound,
are bred to care for the sea. Those of the sky are the kind you are more familiar with. It
all depends on where our eggs are laid—freshwater or salt.”
“But can you breathe air?”
“Of course I can! Am I not a true rysyth? I just don’t move very well out of the
water. What of you? What are you made to do? Just looking at you, you seem to have
no advantage in any element, though you bear the attributes of all of them.”
“I don’t know. The maestros don’t know.” Savrin shook his head.
“Then I pity you, though you may be blessed by them. Come on. I am to take you
to the council.”
They made their way through the gigantic city, the rysyth on the streets stopping
to stare at Maira as she tagged along, struggling to keep up. By the time they made it to
the temple of Caius, she was out of breath. They waited for her to catch it before
entering.
The grand temple of Caius was huge, but familiar. The sanctuary of Caius was a
rysyth-sized version of the one in Tree City, almost stone for stone, but it made the
human version look like a poor copy.
“It’s almost as beautiful as Feasthall.” Aliyah said, awed.
 “That is very kind, enlisted warrior of Sorrith. Ages ago, we modeled it after
Sunhome, Caius’s domain. He described it to us when the Maestros still walked Caln.”
“We must go through.” Berang said. “We are going into the nexus.”
“Nexus?”
“Yes.” said friar Savrin “Our temples are built around it. Legend says that the
Maestros planned the whole world from this spot.” Berang cleared his throat.
“Well, there is some dispute. There is a nexus at Dorrum trench too.”
“Yes, well, the forest of Origin wouldn’t be called that if this wasn’t the true one.”
Savrin huffed. “Besides, there’s no need to confuse the girl. She’ll never get to see
Dorrum Trench, now will she.” He led them onward.
“Maybe. Maybe one day. The Maestros won’t let her stay with the humans much
longer. She can’t. They’re already curious about her agelessness.” Friar Savrin opened
the door to the left of the altar. It opened up into a dark room. The moment Maira
stepped through, her sigil went cold. The room lit with dim globes, revealing a room that
was almost as long as the sanctuary. It was a mirrored room, stretching around the corner
from side to side like a huge circular hallway. Maira had prided herself on her
fearlessness, but here, even she involuntarily shrank against Berang.
“I don’t like this.” Aliyah whispered. “There is evil here. Ancient evil. And. . .I
feel . . .where is is he? Oh by the Council, get me out of here. I’m not supposed to be
here!” Savrin picked Maira up and began to swim faster.
“I am surprised you are not contained here, blessed cousin. We will hurry on
your account. This is the waiting room. It is a special part of the nexus. Here, those of
us who must go into the nexus examine ourselves.”
“But why?” Aliyah and Maira asked.
“Because the Nexus is not dedicated to just one maestro, it is dedicated to the
entire Council of Maestros. It is more holy than any temple, and to honor them we have
made it the place of our own council.”
“How can lord Sorrith allow such evil to exist so close to all of ths?” Aliyah
asked.
“This room is the place of waiting. Here, the Maestros do not have any power.
Neither do demons. It is a place the maestros set aside for us to face our own sins before
we go to meet the council. . . .hey.” friar Savrin tugged on the door to the nexus, but it did
not budge. He backed up, fear swirling in his gem. “Open up in the name of Caius! I
bring the Maira!”
“It’s just Maira. That’s my name, not my type.” Maira muttered, but her voice
rang loud in her head. The room suddenly felt oppressive. Aliyah’s gem vibrated in her
pouch.
“Evil. . .The spirits! Oh Sorrith, protect us!” Aliyah’s voice was laden with fear.
Maira, Berang and Savrin looked around, but they could see nothing. Berang raced to the
door of the temple of Caius but it was also stuck fast.
“What? What spirits?” Savrin looked at Maira’s belt pouch, his gem suirling with
confusion and fear, then pure fear. “No. . .this is impossible! Marshall Werrin!
Councillors! Open the door!” He beat on the door to the nexus with both fists, clicking
and whining in rysir, but there was no answer. Maira drew her knife, looking around her,
but there was nothing.
 “HUMANS ARE NOT WELCOME HERE.” Aliyah’s face was grim as she took a
fighting stance with her ghostly form.
“There are no humans here spirit. Depart in the name of Sorrith.” Aliyah said.
The specter laughed.
“SORRITH HAS NO REIGN HERE, UNDEAD SLAVE.” The specter materialized
in front of the nexus door. It was like a sky bred rysyth, but changed. Its feathers were
jet black and scant, as if they had been yanked out by the fistful. In their place, indigo
scales grew in patches like a vile plague. His eyes were leveled at Maira. She squared
her feet
“Do I look human to you?” waves of supernatural rage beat against her. She
swung her knife, turning in circles to try and see it.
“HUMAN, YOU WILL DIE.” The waves of rage turned to a crushing onslaught
of magic. Maira cried out in pain as she felt her body crumpling. She fought it with all
her power, knowing what was coming if she allowed the magic to work.
“No! In the name of Maestro Sorrith!” Maira shouted.
“Stop, stop! She’s a cousin!” Savrin growled, wrapping himself around her
protectively.
“Leave her alone, foul spirit!”
“LIARS. SHE REEKS OF HUMAN. LOOK UP AND SEE THE TRUTH.” The
crushing force of magic increased, and Maira screamed as she felt herself starting to
change. She looked up at her image in the mirror, but it was not her true image. She was
indistinct, her true form blurred, but a pale whisp of her human form appeared, blending
in.
“No! No by sorrith, no!” she choked.
“BLASPHEMER! HOW DARE YOU SPEAK THE NAMES OF OUR GODS.”
Berang charged the thing, but passed through, unable to affect it.
“Houris, in the name of Caius stop.” Savrin stared up at the attacking creature,
just as Aliyah unleashed a wave of her own magic.
“SO, THEY DO REMEMBER MY NAME.” It said, batting Aliyah away. She
groaned in pain, as she reappeared next to Maira, but only her head was visible. The rest
of her was inside Savrin.
“Hold on Maira, hold on, this can’t last!”
With a wrenching pop, Maira collapsed in upon herself, returning to her human
form, her lungs on fire from inhaled water that she could no longer breathe. Savrin
bellowed in anguish as Maira spasmed, drowning.
Maira knew the feeling of dying all too well, but just as she knew it, she knew
that she did not have permission to die. What a foolish thing to need permission for, she
thought to herself as she felt her life slip away, but then again, when the lord of death
demands the permission, there was little choice but to try to live. She gathered every
ounce of strength and magic left in her and pushed, hoping to force her true form so that
she could breathe, praying for life and hoping to strike out against Houris.
All at once she released it. Sparkles of color swam before her eyes as she burst
back into her form. Looking up at the ceiling, there was no more human form. There
was just Maira. She drew a ryshian longsword made of pure magic and leveled it at
Houris. He hissed at her.
 “THAT IS FORBIDDEN! NO! YOU CANNOT BE HERE! GET OUT! ATTACK,
MY BROTHERS!” All around Maira, dark spirits appeared, all of them looking like
Houris. As one, they advanced on Maira, but she was ready for the attack.
“Aliyah! Don’t just stand there, catch!” she threw a bolt of magic at Aliyah. She
caught it, brandishing the sword with rim satisfaction.
“Hah! This is more like it!” she said with satisfaction.
The first wave of spirits hit against Miara, large, but not too large. She drove her
sword into the belly of one, and it screamed as it disappeared. She had no time as she
swung again, hacking off the legs of one, the arms of another. Waves of magic came
from Aliyah as she fought them back, swinging her smaller sword into the toes and wings
of the attackers. They bit and clawed at her, but still she swung, grimly satisfied that her
blows were affecting them, praising Sorrith that they could not seem to affect her in the
same way. They learned quickly not to chomp her, as more than one disappeared because
her sword went through their pallate.
More came at her. She could not see for the black mass of twisted feathers and
scales. It was as her nightmares come true, these spirits were almost the same as the
omryth that flew in her darkest dreams. She resolved herself to live, to fight, and to kill
them all. One by one she attacked them and they shrank before her, literally, until they
were her size. Now her sword clove through necks, tails, and bodies. She was beating
them, but they kept returning, fighting without end. She had to get out!
With a sudden boom that shattered every mirror, the door to the nexus burst open
backwards, cracking the doorframe and dislodging chunks of stone and broken glass to
sink down. With a cry of anguish and terror, Houris cowered at the nexus door, unable to
pass through it. The spirits disappeared at once. Beyond the door, she could see the
council members craning their necks, anger and fear in their gems.
One by one they collapsed, floating where they fell unconscious. Maira stepped
up to Houris and raised her sword.
“You will pay for hurting them. I am not human.” She brought her sword down.
Houris extended his neck to accept the blow, but just as it bit into his neck, it was
stopped.
Warm hands held her shoulders and another pair held the blade. She turned,
panting, and gazed into the eyes of Sorrith. In an instant, her rage left her and she bowed
down.
“Peace, Maira. You did well.” The voice of Caius was soothing to her ears. He
lifted her to her feet.
“Well, brother, I told you that this was a risky venture, letting her come down
here. Perhaps you will listen to me now.” Caius’s face was grim.
“My lords, you are here. . .but. . .” she looked around at the ruined room and the
cowering form of Houris. Caius stroked her back gently. She winced as his hand found a
deep cut. Evidently, some of the blows were real.
“We shielded this place from ourselves, but when you broke the door and
smashed he mirrors. . .well. . .” Maira trembled
“I’m sorry, my lords. Did I really? It wasn’t Houris?” Both chuckled.
“No, no. You did that on your own.” Sorrith picked up Houris by his neck and
forced his head up close to Maira. Instinctvely, she reached for her sword again, backing
up, but Caius held her in place.
 “Do you see this? Does she look human to you?” Houris closed his eyes and
tried to look away.
“No, my lords. She looks like you.” He mumbled very softly. “I was blinded by
her humanity. Have mercy—“ he was cut off abruptly with a sneer. He made a strangled
cry as Sorrith threw him against the wall.
“Maira, you have won this battle. We are proud. Do you know what Houris is?”
“My lords, he is an omryth.” Maira said with certainty.
“No,” said Caius. “He is a rysyth.”
“You need to know this.” Sorrith said sadly. “Remember your legends? How
humans tore apart caln? Well, when war broke out between humans and our creation,
there was a tribe of rysyth who took pity on humans. They allied against their own kind
to stop the senseless battle. Some say that a demon took the mind of the Chief, but he
began to work with them. The humans, in their nasty ways, used their foreign magic on
this tribe in an attempt to make them bigger, stronger, and nastier. The tribe was eager
for power and was easily tempted. Rysyth are very territorial, as you know, and he
thought that blending his magic with the humans’ foreign magic would accomplish this.
The result was the omryth. It turns out that while the Rysyth tribe did act on its own, the
magic of the humans was pure evil. It twisted them into the creatures you fought, and
their offspring live to plague rysyth even now. Houris was the Chief of that tribe.”
Houris bowed his head. “my lords, i have repented. please. have i not suffered
enough?”
“No! You will suffer until the last of your kind is wiped out!” Caius shouted.
“We cursed all of his tribe, Maira. We bound him here, to this nexus. Every
omryth born is a coal upon his head, and every rysyth that dies, he gets to see as the dead
are brought here as they come through Caius’s temple on the way to mine.” Sorrith said.
“We bound him here, out of our sight but also out of the presence of the demons that
would use him, until all the omryth are destroyed and the sum total of his sins can be
counted. The others you fought are the members of his tribe, equally cursed. They have
bothered none until now.”
“But why did he think I was human?”
“Because even though you are a new creation, part of you remains human. If it
were not so, you would not look as you do, and we could have simply let you melt into
the fauna of Caln without disturbing humans ever again. In Houris, what we feared
concerning you has come true. He hates humans with his entire being now, and so even
the small portion of humanity you have incited his rage. He is blind, Maira. He can only
see that which was displayed in the mirrors. To him, you looked human.”
“He wasn’t too concerned with Aliyah.”
“Aliyah is mine.” Sorrith said. “He saw that she was already dead. You are not.”
He kicked Houris, who whimpered. “Go on, to the other side of the room with you. I
have to clean up your mess.” Wings drooping, Houris disappeared.
“Now, let us see.” Caius said, and gently unwound the unconscious Savrin. “I
put them to sleep. It would kill them to see us. They are only mortal, after all.” Maira
was confused, until Savrin was moved. There, pale and still, was her body in its human
form. There were tears in Caius’s eyes, though the room was underwater, and it broke
Maira’s heart to see it. Aliyah’s sword was beside Maira’s body, but Aliyah had retreated
into her gem. Gently, he touched her body and it reverted to its true state. Aliyah knelt
down, picked up the limp body and held it to her. It was so small now.
“I have failed you, my lords. I--” Sorrith put a finger to her lips.
“No, you have not. Listen.” Aliyah strained to hear sound in the room. All she
heard was the beating of rysyth heatbeats. Then, she heard her own as her body took a
ragged breath, drawing her back into her body. She felt as if she had been trampled. She
was so weak that she could not move.
“He cursed you hard, my child.” Said Sorrith. “Your gem is cracked. That is why
you are weak.”
“But I live? Even with that? Heal me my lords!” Both Caius and Sorith spread
their hands.
“We cannot. You live, but it is not the life that you know. There is only one
strand holding you back from death, but it is one that cannot be severed.” Sorrith said
gravely. Caius picked up the smaller sword and gave it to her.
“That is a fine pair of blades. They will be needed as you walk the path.” Caius
did not smile, but he was gentle. Maira inspected the sword, identical to her longsword,
but shorter.
“The path, my lords?” Sorrith put his thumb on maira’s shoulder and the sigil
changed. “What does this mean?”
“It means, dearest one, that you have earned your golden strand. You are on your
path to immortality.” He said. “That qualifies you to be a lieutenant in my army, but it
also means quite a few changes. One of which we must hold immediate council about.”
Caius put his arm around her.
“Maira, you will have much to learn, but on the path, we cannot interfere with that
learning. The path is difficult, and not everyone who earns the right to walk it can
complete it. You will wish you had died by the end, I can assure you, but you cannot.
That first of golden strands gave you the right to an immortal spirit. This is a dangerous
time for you, because you cannot die, but neither can you easily heal yourself. We cannot
heal you either. Healing magic, even ours, only works on mortals. If you are injured
beyond your capacity to heal, your spirit will go on to the training grounds. That is as far
as we will permit you.”
“We will have quests for you now. All six of us in the inner council will contact
you.”
“But I already have a quest.”
“Don’t worry about that. It doesn’t matter right now.”
“But a mate. . .”
“I said, don’t worry about that right now.” Caius said sternly. “You have bigger
problems. I have to call the council.” Caius disappeared in a flash of light. Maira had to
shield her eyes. Sorrith took Aliyah’s gem out of Maira’s belt.
“Aliyah, child. You did well. Thank you for being here, for fighting alongside
our beloved one, but this battle would have been too great, even had you been in a body.”
“My lord you are too kind. I died to serve.”
“Yes, you did that. Now what did you learn about going without your body?”
“I can affect nothing without it, and I am defenseless.”
“That is right. It is a good thing Maira lent you one of her swords.”
“Maira is a lady now?”
 “Oh, yes. Yes she is. . .lieutenant? You need to take this enlisted one back to her
body. This is not your quest, this is an order.” Maira took the gem from Sorrith’s hands.
“My lord, I will do as you command. . .but sir, I do not understand how I came to
earn his strand.”
“This wasn’t the only time you have come close to earning it. We are pleased that
you remained alive, but this path is very far from what we had planned for you. Just be
content that you are alive. I am allowed to give you a last piece of knowledge. It pains
me to say this, but since I am already your sponsor on this path, even as I was your
advocate while you were mortal, I must tell you. You are barred from the feasthall. All
immortals are. I’m sorry. I’ve made you an officer, but that is all I can do for you.”
“No. . .” Maira choked.
“That’s just the way it is. Immortals must serve for eternity. Take that knowledge
with you as you complete your first quest. With every strand you earn, it becomes more
difficult for us to declare your failure and it becomes easier for you to survive the trials
ahead.”
“And what happens if you declare my failure?” Sorrith’s eyes grew terrible and
sad.
“No one who begins this path can return to mortality. If we declare your failure,
you will spend the rest of eternity at the stage you failed, but you will do so in Pathir, not
Kohlerir. You do not want to fail.” Maira trembled.
“But sir. . .” Sorrith held up his hand for silence
“No more. Let us just say that even the most stalwart of heroes and saints can be
corrupted by the power bestowed and the knowledge learned. Just because you are no
longer mortal does not mean you don’t still have the free will to betray us. Take care,
Maira. We like you very much, but we will not hesitate to imprison you, should you fail.
Now, take Aliyah home, talk with her parents as you promised, and return here. You need
time to heal before I will give you my quest. Believe me, with a crack on your gem like
that, it will be a long time.” Sorrith shook his head. “Oh, by the way, you are mine now,
with all the gifts I grant my officers and my enlisted. That means you can perhaps heal
yourself a bit quicker if you take appropriate refreshment. It will be waiting for you
when you return to Tree City.” He stared at Miara until she squirmed. “Let me have your
swords. They will be taken and made into something a bit more corporeal. I will even
bless them myself.” Maira handed him the swords without question. “There now. Go
on. You must live, and it is time you began to walk.” She saluted him weakly and he
returned it befre he disappeared.
“Lady Maira, get up.” Aliyah tugged on Maira. She could actually touch and
move her, but all Maira wanted to do was rest.
“I can’t.” Maira struggled to move and managed to get upright rather than on her
side, but she did not have the strength to stand or swim. Savrin woke up, disoriented,
and looked around, relieved to see Maira alive. Then the state of the room registered.
“How. . .” he nudged Maira up, helping her stand, but her legs wobbled even with
the water aiding her.
“I won.” she said quietly.
“The maestros were here. Caius was here! Oh blessed lord of the sun! Why?”
“He saved your life by knocking you out.” Aliyah said, helping Maira stand.
“You are mortal.”
 “And Maira?” Berang asked, swimming over. Maira looked away. She turned
just enough so that Berang could see her gem.
“Oh by the council.” he said, catching her as she teetered.
“I used too much magic. . .This. . .I did this. It cracked it. Lords Caius and
Sorrith were here. . .because of me.”
“Friar savrin, explain this!” called one of the councilors from the nexus. Maira
took slow steps forward.
“My report. . .” Aliyah stepped in front of her.
“That can wait. Follow orders, ma’am.” She said sternly. Maira looked up at
the councilors, who were waiting patiently. She looked at Savrin.
“Orders. Go home, help Aliyah. Refresh. Come back.” She listed off her tasks.
“I need to go back.” Savrin sighed.
“My esteemed lords of the council, the lady Maira must return on higher orders.”
“We smell the Maestros, friar. We will expect that report. The council will
suspend its proceedings until she returns.” Berang lifted Maira onto Savrin’s back,
situating her legs into a comfortable position.
“We will carry you home. Savrin is big enough to hold you. I am not. But when
we get to the temple base, he cannot fit through the door. I will have to take you to the
surface.”
“Thank you.” she said, closing her eyes. The last thing she felt was rope being
tied over her back as she dropped her chin to her breast and passed out.
She woke as the first breath of air entered her lungs. With a hacking cough, she
choked up water and found herself in human form once more. So, the Maestros still held
that rule over her, she thought bitterly, but she could not stand. The hall was still empty.
It was just before morning, and all of the ryshians would be out on patrol over the forest,
doing their duty despite the celebration. Berang remained in the pool.
“I will wait here for your return. Then you can rest with us.”
“Thank you Berang. Bless you.” Maira said, standing, leaning on Aliyah.
“Oh by Sorrith, my lady, let’s get you upstairs. You need to refresh.”
“Refresh? Refresh. Sorrith said. . .” she put her clothes on slowly. Aliyah
looked up at Berang.
“Well, can you help a bit? Carry her up!” Berang snorted.
“It’s not that I don’t want to, little cousin. They won’t let me through. I can come
up here, but I can’t use the forest gate until I am bonded. If I want to be in Tree city, I
must fly there like the rest of the unbound.”
“That’s all right, Aliyah. I can make it.” Maira got up and walked to the door,
climbing the steps one at a time. Aliyah flew to her side, helping her walk, whispering
encouraging remarks to her. Ruess caught them on their way up.
“Ho there! You are still here? The foreman at the ink house has been looking for
you. He says your friend is done and he doesn’t mean Thelembi.
“Thank you Ruess.”
“Hey. . .you look like you’ve been assigned to night watch for three nights solid.
What happened to you?”
“I . . . think I need help.” She said and sank to her knees. Ruess rushed to help
her up.
“I’ll get help. Where do you need to go? The medics? The temple of Sorrith?”
 “The ink house.” Maira sighed. “I will have help from there.” He led her up the
stairs to the door, where he set her in Rosh’s arms. Rosh was visibly distressed.
“Maira, you smell like the Maestros! What happened down there!”
“Nothing. Maybe when you are older.” Maira sighed, trying to stay awake.
“But Maira, you’re as cold as the depths. Are you alive?”
“I live. More than you know.” Rosh panted and flexed his teeth with worry.
Aliyah enfolded her in her ghostly arms.
“I can feel you. . .”
“Just hold on my lady. A few more hours and you can rest.”
“I want to rest now Aliyah, I hurt. I feel so light that I could just. . .” Maira lifted
her hand and then dropped it. Her spirit’s arm remained up. Aliyah held her tighter.
“No lady, no, please don’t.” Aliyah choked.
“But I’m so tired, Aliyah. I want to rest.”
“Just hold on, my lady. You were brilliant last night, shining like the maestros.
When you threw me a sword there, in my uselessness. . .You are truly a lady of Sorrith.”
“A lieutenant, nothing more. But I don’t know what that means.” Maira sighed,
letting her body rest, while Aliyah comforted her.
“Ruess is back. Is she right? Are you immortal, Maira?” Maira sighed.
“I am.” She said, getting up. Rosh was quick to help her. Maira looked at the
cart that had driven up. It was a slave cart. Ruess shrugged.
“It was the nearest thing. I’m sorry lady, but it is going straight there.” Maira
nodded. In Togri Culture, only slaves were transported. Despite being honored for the
sacrifice they made, they were still reguarded as commodities, and so they could ride in
carts. Able-bodied people walked. The slave carter was an uncouth man with a belly and
rotten teeth. Even as Rosh and Ruess were helping her into the cart, he was scrutinizing
her.
“Hey, aren’t you that Oathbreaker? By the Maestros. It’s about time they did you
in. Heh.” Rosh growled, bearing his teeth at him. The slave carter turned pale. A dark
stain began to spread at this crotch.
“Stop, Rosh. He is an ignorant human, nothing more.”
“Carter, you are lucky that you are ignorant.” Ruess said. “I do not control Rosh.
He can eat you if he wishes.”
“Right. . .my lords. Well, you, er . . . lady. Get in. I’ve got no time for talk.” He
slammed the cart door behind her and maira flopped onto the rough bench.
“Maira? Oathbreaker Maira?” Asked a weary voice. “What happened to you?”
A gray haired man with a missing arm, half his face, and huge bite marks all over him
leaned over. “You sold too? Even out of the temple?” He asked with remorse.
“I’m no slave. I am merely too weak to move. How do you know me?”
“Ehh, if you can’t move, then you are a slave. I pity you, ma’am. It is no honor
for a ryshian to come to this fate.”
“You don’t despise me?”
“Why should I? I knew you. I knew your devotion was absolute. I’m Gau. I
was your tail rider until I cracked my leg the battle before your last. Healed up, but they
wouldn’t let me back up there. By Caius it’s been years. I did my service, got out;
worked on a hunting crew. Got mauled. Now I’m here. I want to die, but they won’t let
me.” He put his remaining arm on her shoulder in greeting, but removed it instantly.
“You’re cold as the grave! What’d they do to you? What are you?”
“I am nothing.” Maira whispered, closing her eyes. “But you are so old.”
“Oh yes, my lady, my days are at an end. I will be content to live out the
remainder of my years in the care of the foremen. You are of an age with me, but you,
my lady, you haven’t aged a day. It makes me believe that the maestros still bless you,
even in your disgrace. Is it so, ma’am?”
Maira opened an eye to look at him.
“Bless you Gau. I am sorry I did not remember you.” The carter stamped on the
top of the transport.
“Quiet in there, you lot. Merchandice doesn’t talk back.”
“Watch your foul tounge. You should honor these folk. I will report to the
council on your treatment of these unfortunates!”
“How you gonna do that, miss? You can barely move! I should include you in
my manifest.”
“Do so and I will curse you.”
“You’re an oathbreaker. The Maestros have abandoned you.” Maira tried to get
up, but Aliyah held her down.
“I have heard him. He will pay. He will learn. I am the watcher.” Gau also held
her back, holding her with his one good arm. The other slaves muttered and complained.
They were packed in as tight as they could manage.
“No, save it. You will need your strength, soon enough, I can tell. He’s less of a
human than we are. He’s a piece of shit laborer. He does not deserve your cursing. He
curses himself.” He was looking at Maira, but not precicely. Aliyah looked at him.
“He sees me.” She said, stunned.
“Who is she? That blessed spirit who watches you. I can see her, but I cannot
hear.”
“You may know soon.” Maira said, closing her eyes again. “You are wise. She
will find you. She has heard you.” He said something further, but she couldn’t
comprehend it as she drifted off into the black of unconciousness.
Her body hit the ground, jarring her awake. The sound of the carter grumbling
about the dead messing up the interior was grating to her ears, but she could not move.
“Oy, foreman. Take this filth in and complete her circle. She wasn’t mine yet,
blast it all, so inform the temple. She looked like she could be strong.”
“Right. I’ll put her in booth six. That’s Jerrod. This one came in last night. Too
bad she didn’t survive to pick up her charge, but I think her charge’s parents will be very
interested to see her corpse.”
“Anything juicy?”
“Oh yeah. Get this. The girl she brought in? Connus Rishaud’s first.” The slave
carter whistled through his teeth.
“Does he know?”
“No. This one here sealed the booth. I had to tell them I had not seen since she
was this one’s apprentice, but now I think they will be pleased.” He pushed Maira with
his foot. With a snap, Maira grabbed it. The foreman screamed and lost his balance,
falling to the wooden street. The slave carter backed up a pace, his face pale with fear.
Maira rose slowly to her feet, taking slow, deliberate breaths.
 “I warned you not to tell anyone. Be relieved that I am here to witness your
lapse.”
“Demon.” Squeaked the foreman. Maira’s rage boiled over.
“How dare you! I am blessed! I am not a demon. I am—”
“Maira no!” Aliyah put her hand over Maira’s mouth. Her strength failed her and
she sank to her knees. Aliyah helped her up, but it looked so unnatural that they both
shrank away. Maira dragged herself inside and down the aisle of booths to Jerrod’s. She
threw aside the curtain and collapsed. Aliyah tugged on her.
“A few more feet, that is all, my lady.”
“Careful!” Jerrod shielded himself. “Maira! Are you all right?”
“I am not, but there is nothing man or Maestro can do to fix it.” Maira sighed,
panting. Shaking, she got to her knees and crawled over to Aliyah’s body.
“You have come in time. I have finished.” Jerrod smiled, proud of his work.
She was decorated from head to foot in intricate designs, some showing her
dedication to sorrith, others telling of her death and her age when she died, others
warning the people who saw her of her status as an undead servant of Sorrith. Jerrod had
shaved every inch of her, and the hair still sat in piles on the floor. She was covered in
sheer silk burial cothes that were billowing and pure white, designed to discretely cover
the deceased while displaying the designs. A laquered white death mask covered her
face, but the eyes of the mask were carefully cut open. Maira gently pulled aside the
sheer fabric and pushed Aliyah’s gem into the hollow at her solar plexus. It only took
moments for her to rise stiffly. Jerrod cowered, seeing her get up.
“Oh, that’s so much better.” Aliyah said, popping her stiff joints as she inspected
herself. “Where did you find these, Jerrod?”
“I was given them, my lady. The priest Idirith came here seeking you and said
that he was on the business of Sorrith. He demanded that I clothe you for presentation,
once I finished. Have I done wrong?”
“Bless you, no. It was just what I needed. Today is my presentation. Of course I
must go properly clothed.” Jerrod shuddered.
“I am pleased to serve the servant of Maestro Sorrith.”
“Thank you Jerrod. Your skills are exquisite.”
“Blessed are those who remember the enslaved.” He bowed his head. Aliyah
lifted Maira onto her back.
“Ready, my lady? We’ll get you refreshed in no time.” She took off for the
shrine.
At the door, Raucas stopped them.
“Wait, my ladies.”
“I am no lady.” Aliyah warned. Raucas bowed humbly.
“Excuse me, Watcher. I did not mean to offend. Your parents are here, and they
are not pleased. Rishaud is beside himself. Idirith has them in the dressing room. You
will have to enter discreetly. Maira, what is wrong?”
“My role has changed. I will tell you because your destiny is with Sorrith’s army.
I am immortal, and I am gravely wounded. I am having trouble controlling my body. I
tell you now because I will need your help.”
“But my lady. . .how? You were fine when you left yesterday afternoon.”
 “Ah. . .I can’t tell you yet. All I will say now is that I was in battle with great evil
last night, and I won.”
“Then I am blessed to serve. What do you require?”
“A staff and an appropriate set of robes for confronting her parents.”
“I can provide. There is something else. This morning, all of the fonts in the
shrine ran red with blood. What omen is this?”
“It is a good one. The fonts run red for me. They will remain red for you as
well.” Maira said, sliding off. The wind whipped Aliyah’s silks around her like wings.
Overhead, a rumble of thunder promised rain. Raucas waved for them to enter, settling
them in the tiny chapel with the bloodstained altar. He dipped two goblets into one of the
fonts and presented both Maira and Aliyah with them. Aliyah sucked hers back instantly,
but Maira hesitated. The whole concept of drinking blood as a living creature seemed
wrong. Steeling herself with a breath, she took her first mouthful. The second she
swallowed the salty, coppery liquid, she was jolted with a burst of energy. The taste and
feel of it in her was so wonderful that she drained the rest of the goblet, spilling down the
sides of her mouth and staining her clothes. Aliyah laughed at her.
“I told you it was good.” Maira was feeling a little better. She thrust the goblet at
Raucas.
“More.” She grunted. Raucas showed her the font. She looked at Aliyah, who
looked at her with a bemused expression as she dipped her hands in and drank straight
from the font. When it was empty, she felt better. Rishaud poured water back in, and it
instantly became blood. She watched the miracle with wonder, dipping her hand in to
check it.
“It is usually a plague.” muttered Rishaud. “If you two were not in here, I would
be on my knees begging for forgiveness and trying to determine the cause of it.” Aliyah
shrugged.
“If it were a plague, every water barrel and cistern in town would be red. It is just
here, in the shrine. It is for us. Sorrith is pleased.” Rishaud beamed She was still weak,
but she felt well enough to face Aliyah’s parents. Another priest came with a robe,
helping Maira out of her bloodstained clothes and cleaning her with fresh water. He also
handed her a tall staff. She leaned on it, letting it aid her balance. Aliyah embraced her.
“I knew you’d like it. Upon the servants and children of Sorrith, blood has a
healing and a stimulating effect. The stimulating effect buys you hours at best, but you
are still gravely wounded, my lady. It may help heal you, but it will still take time. I wish
that I could keep you here, with this unending supply, but I cannot. You act upon the
Lord’s orders. I council you to drink as much as you can before you return.” Maira
nodded, agreeing. She adjusted her robes.
“It is time. Aliyah, your mask, put it down.” Aliyah pulled her mask over her
face. Raucas accompanied her out as Aliyah laid back. He went in the room first.
“Rise for the blessed of Sorrith, Maira Esethan.” Maira went in, slightly
embarrassed at the title. Rishaud did not rise. His wife, Imhi, started to get up but he
pulled her down. Rishaud cleared his voice. “Rise for the—“
“It is well, Rishaud. Return to the chapel. They need not rise for me.” Rishaud
looked as if he wanted to protest, but he left without an argument. She also dismissed
Idirith.
“Connus Rishaud and Imhi Tallim, thank you for coming this morning.”
 “Skip it oathbreaker.” Growled Rishaud. “I demand to see my daughter. Where
have you hidden her?” Maira held her hands out for peace.
“I must thank you for allowing her to be my apprentice. She was instrumental in
making sure the masyth received the highest price in perhaps the most difficult year we
have had in trade with Arynstar. She may have been among the last of the Togri to see
the shining city until the king either relaxes his edicts or goes to war with us.”
“That remains to be seen. Marshal Ferdis has already stated that your leadership
was suspect and the caravan was a colossal failure.” Maira grated her teeth.
“Marshal Ferdis’s judgement is not confirmed until Marshal Werrin has spoken on
the subject.”
“How can it be wrong? Oathbreaker, traitor! I don’t know how you blinded the
blessed eyes of the rysyth, but mine are clear. Connus agrees with me. You are not to be
trusted. Now, show me my daughter.”
“I have had just about enough of you and of Marshal Ferdis.” Maira growled. “I
am here as a servant of Sorrith, so mind your ill manners and remember that he is the
maestro of Justice!” Rishaud rose to his feet in anger, but Imhi pulled him down.
“Rishi, please. She is correct. Don’t be rude. She has been very polite to us.”
“You don’t understand, Imhi. You’re not ryshian. I listened to your judgement
when I allowed my only daughter to learn the ways of herding under this traitor. Now,
Maira. What did you do with your charge? She was suppsed to dance this year, and to
bond if Caius so blesses her.” His voice was desperate with grief that Maira could not
assuage.
“Rishaud, you need to calm yourself. Your qualm with me is founded on a charge
that was dropped. You may make any judgements upon me that you wish, but the only
ones that count are the ones Lord Sorrith declares true.” Imhi gave a small grunt of
approval.
“Maira,” she said softly, on the verge of crying, “why have you hidden her? Why
wait until morning to tell us?”
“Imhi, I am sorry, I did not save your daughter’s life. I witnessed and advocated
her death. Do not despair though; it was her choice and her time to die so that all of the
Togri nation could be blessed. She has chosen the path of the enlisted.” Rishaud sank to
his knees and put his head in his hands. Imhi looked confused.
“Come, now. I will show you. She is in the chapel.” Maira turned and walked
out. Imhi got up calmly, refusing to let her tears brim over. Rishaud followed a few
paces behind. Maira knew he was thinking of ways to kill her. She let him think. When
she let them in. Aliyah was sitting, waiting for them.
“Mother, father. I am sacrificed.” She said serenely. Imhi’s tears spilled over and
she rushed to her daughter. They embraced, and then Imhi began to inspect her, wailing
over every mark placed on her body. Aliyah looked up at Rishaud.
“Father, I am still your daughter. Come, see.” Rishaud hesitantly approached,
appraising her with his eyes alone. Aliyah removed her mask for him, revealing her
sunken eyes and emaciated face. He looked away in horror. Aliyah looked from Maira to
Raucas. It was Raucas who put an arm over Rishaud’s shoulder.
“Lord Rishaud, she is blessed. She chose to take this path of salvation. I know it
is different from the blessed path of Caius, but it is just as holy. As a Watcher, the first
among our tribe, she will make this shrine into a true temple.” Imhi smiled, even in her
tears.
“If you are blessed, then I am happy. I just. . .hoped that you would pass on my
lineage and the clan name.” Imhi said. Aliyah smiled.
“Oh mom. I would have truly died if Sorrith had not given me the choice. For
that, you can blame the Apostate king and his new edicts that kept us out in the sun for so
long that many in our caravan took ill. At least I can uphold the clan name while Sorrith
allows my service to continue.” Imhi turned to Maira.
“How can we ever thank you for allowing my daughter to become so blessed?”
“THANK HER? Thank her Imhi? This isn’t the first time that a person in her
charge has died. We should have her tried for murder!” Rishaud shouted.
“Rishi, your daughter stands here, now.” Imhi said. “She is dead, but Lord Sorrith
in his wisdom opened another path of salvation.”
“Yes, father. Please. I know it’s not the path of Caius as you wished for me, but it
is no less blessed. Maira had very little to do with my decision. I am fifteen, and an
adult by the law.” Rishaud put a trembling hand up to touce Aliyah’s face, but retracted
it.
“No. My daughter is dead. The maestros are sick to bring this creature wearing
her flesh, and I accuse Oathbreaker Maira Esethan of her death.” He turned on his heel
and marched out. Idirith followed him, his eyes full of zeal. Aliyah buried her head in
Imhi’s shoulder and sobbed, though she had no tears.
“He is dealing with this very poorly. My dearest daughter, do not listen to your
father. I am the one who speaks for the clan. I will enter you in our history as one of our
heroes.”
“Rishaud can’t keep his temper around me that is all.” Maira said comfortingly.
“He hasn’t these last thirty years.” Imhi nodded.
“I understand more than he thinks, Maira, just as I understand that whatever fate
was decided for you that day will bless our nation if we allow it. I was too young to
witness your disgrace, but I am sure it was unfounded. The rysyth know more than we
do. Connus is just hot headed. Rishi tells me that he loved Deshar.”
“Connus would have followed Deshar into death if he could. He has blinded
himself to the truth, but in doing so, he has soured your husband’s mind and soul. Rysyth
grudges can last centuries. In Connus’s mind, she has died only recently.”
“I am glad I don’t have to deal with this business of Maestros and rysyth. I must
go after my blessed husband.”
“I understand.” Maira said patiently.
“Don’t worry about being brought into court. This is a civil matter, and I will talk
to the women about it. Rishaud has no right to accuse you.
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“Ali dear, you make me proud. Even if Rishaud never acknowledges you, I will.”
Imhi brushed away a tear. “Maira, she can stay in the clan house still. I will not turn her
out. How can I care for her?”
“My job until Sorrith recalls me is to fight evil and injustice, assist the lost back to
the hall of Jugement, and to care for the temple. I am a warrior and a priestess. I must
belong to the Togri army.”
“But a woman. . .”
 “Mother, I am not alive. Sorrith is the Maestro of war. I must do this.”
“You will have to appeal to the men for that. I cannot get you into the army.”
“We will help.” Added Raucas.
“Aliyah will need blood. It is the only thing that she can digest. The shrine is
blessed to provide right now, but the supply will not last. If she wishes to appear whole,
she will need it from time to time. The longer she goes without it, the more skeletal she
will appear.” Maira added.
“Do not worry about her needs, she hasn’t many.” Raucas said. “She does not eat,
sleep, or breathe anymore. Truthfully, the shrine can provide her with enough blood to
keep her comfortable. It is polite among Sorrithians to share a bit though, if you are
willing. It is a gift from the living to those who have given up their life for the greater
good.” Outside, the skies opened up, pouring down rain. Maira sighed and pulled up the
hood of her robes.
“Well, I’d better get moving.” She shook hands with Imhi and Raucas, and then
embraced Aliyah.
“Be well, Maira.” Aliyah said quietly.
“But Lady Maira, surely you should stay until Meranna has finished?”
“No Raucas. I am called elsewhere.”
“Then go with Sorrith. May you walk the path of the Just.”
“And you.” Maira answered as she stepped out into the rain.
The effect of the blood was wearing off by the time she returned to the pool.
Berang was waiting patiently, chatting with one of the older rysyth. Both of them bowed
to her when she walked in.
“Maira. Have you taken care of things?”
“Yes. Aliyah is back in the temple where she belongs.”
“That is good. Are you well? You look better.”
“Just for a bit longer. Refreshment has given me a false health. I need to rest.
Show me the way. I’ll follow you.” She jumped in and held onto Berang’s tail, letting
him pull her into the depths. Once again, when she was out of the sight of humans, she
returned to her true form. Changing took a lot of strength out of her. Her vision went
fuzzy and she struggled breathe. Berang stopped, waiting patiently as she coughed up
blood.
“Maira. . .are you going to live?” he asked, looking at the red cloud forming
around Maira.
“I don’t think I have a choice.” She said thinly, haking uncontrollably. Her wings
spasmed and jerked. Berang decided that she had suffered enough. He grabbed her
around the middle and dragged her through the temple base. Friar Savrin was still
waiting.
“That was quick! Thak Caius you weren’t detained long. Where do you want to
go?”
“Somewhere I can rest.”
“I know just the place.” He said, taking her from Berang. They took off for the
heart of Innus. He took her to the temple of Sorrith. Inside, the worshippers and priests
stopped, staring.
“This is not your place Savrin. Go back to the temple of Caius.”
 “I come here bringing one of your ladies. This is Maira.” The rysyth in the
temple all looked at one another.
“This is the immortal destined that broke the mirrors in the place of
Contemplation last night?”
“Yes.” The priests all hastened to make a place for Maira, granting her a priest’s
cell. It was a cramped room for a rysyth, but it was spacious for her. She was so tired
that she folded her legs under her and went to sleep almost immediately.
When she woke, she felt better. She stretched and stood, then swam out of the
cell. As she walked or swam down the huge corridors, none noticed her. She tried to go
through the doors into the nexus, but some strange magic prevented her from entering.
“Berang, Savrin?” she called, but none turned their heads to her. Frustrated, she
went out the front doors, knowing where to find at least one of them.
The city of Innus shone brighty, its walls magically treated to put forth light so
that no part of the city was ever dark. Rysyth swam to and fro up and down the streets of
the city, going about their business in the same way that humans did. They did not notice
her making her way around the temple complex on the ground.
Travelling without her rysyth companions, she got to see a bit more of the temple
district. The temples to the six Maestros of the inner council stood conjoined like a huge
gear with the nexus at the center. She had been told of the layout of the inner temples.
What she missed as they had ushered her around was the temples to the Maestros of the
outer council—the minor deities that were in charge of more specific things, like plants,
animals, homes, travel and the like. Maira remembered meeting these Maestros when she
became a new creature. There were more Maestros here than she ever knew existed. The
Togri worshipped the five, with Caius at the head, but the Maestros of the outer council
were not given temples or shrines. Clans might attribute their success or take one of
these lesser deities as a patron of their clan, but here, they were given every bit of respect
as true deities. She watched as rysyth swam from temple to temple offering sacrifices.
Up and down the street, merchants were selling wares to be used as sacrifices, just like
humans did in Tree City or in Arynstar.
The other thing she noticed about the temples was that there were no guards at the
doors like there were at human temples. Even at the temple of Sorrith, the doors had
been left for anyone to enter or exit at will, with no outer court, inner court, or defensive
wall like there had been in Arynstar. There was also no dividing wall or any undead
priests that she saw. Worship was more peaceful ths way, and Maira had the sense that
this was the way it should be. She entered the Temple of Caius, which was the first one
clockwise from the temple of Sorrith. Now that she was not being pressed through, she
had time to stop and look. The view had been breathtaking before, but the sight of it now
drove her to her knees. Not only was the architecture stunning, but the prescence of
Caius was everywhere. Here, the greatest numbe of sky bred rysyth gathered, most of
them with the ornate ryshian saddle sculpted out of and drilled into their dorsal ridge. All
around her, not only living rysyth, but the spirits of the departed floated through the
corridors and bowed before the altar. Maira wanted to reach out and touch the dead ones,
to send them back to the temple of Sorrith, but just as she began to reach out to the
nearest, a slimy hand caught her wrist.
 “They are here legitimately. They know they are dead.” Maira turned, looking
into the mottled red face of Opi. He smiled at her, the corners of his large mouth curling
up comically. “It’s been a few years, eh cousin?”
“Opi! By the Maestros. Well, how do you like my true form?” Opi nodded.
“You look much more comfortable. All things sould be as they truly are, as lord
Caius says. You are beautiful. You have come a long way from your imprisonment on
the platform.”
“I. . .”
“Oh, cousin, the whole of the upper plane is buzzing about you. You caused quite
a stir when you expended all of your life and magical energy to break the seals on the
Nexus door here. It’s a pity you’re immortal now, a great shame. Your descendants
could have been great in the world, with an upright spirit like yours, but I’m sure
whoever else undergoes the process will be equally good.”
“Could have been? You mean will be. Lord Caius has told me not to worry about
a mate, but I will find one.” Opi shook his head.
“Oh, you don’t yet know. Maira . . . every immortal since the edicts of Trexit has
been sterile. Even you.” A chill rose up from Maira’s hooves.
“But that can’t be true . . . am I doomed to be a monster throughout eternity?”
Opi shook his head.
“How simple of you to think that, but no, when your tasks are done, you will be a
full immortal with all the priveledge that entails. We are not so . . . particular . . . about
our appearance. Only the spawn of demons can be called monsters.” Maira had to kneel
down, as the realization set in.
“Lady Lemari must be upset . . . Oh, by the council, have I failed her? She
wanted to see my hatchlings. . .” opi patted her back.
“Yes, yes you have perhaps failed her, but then again, you still have quests to
perform. Who knows what they will demand? They are Maestros and we are not. As to
her upset, yes, she has been ranting every day since your ascention to the ranks of
immortals. All of those who once belonged to her hear her. Just remember, she is
insane.”
“I know. Still, I would not incur her wrath. I should go to her temple and beg
forgiveness.”
“That is wise, but you will have to endure it. You did a very powerful, very good
deed. Even Lemari cannot fault you for recating to Houris.”
“Tell me about the Edicts of Trexit.”
“Sorry, no. That is not my story to tell. I was around then, but I did not
participate in the acts that led to those laws, even though I suffer the concequences of my
cousins’ actions. Now, put that out of your mind for now. You seem to be a little lost.”
“Well I was looking for Savrin and Berang, but nobody seems to hear me.”
“Well,” said Opi, leaning on Maira, “Savrin is there, in the sanctuary. It is time
for his morning service. They can’t tell day from night down here anymore, but the
priests of Talus still call the hours. You can’t speak to him right now, however.”
“But why?”
“Oh, for the same reason these rysyth dead can’t be perceived or heard by their
descendants. Where is your body, cousin? Where is your physical form?”
 Maira gasped as she opened her eyes in her cell. Pain ripped through her and she
clutched her head and screamed.
“Damnit Opi! Oh, Sorrith, it hurts.”
“Peace, cousin. I know. You’ve never been out of your body for as long as this.
They say the first time back from the training grounds is very, very painful.” Opi sat next
to her, massaging her tight muscles, easing the pain out with each kneading motion.
“Why don’t I remember?”
“You are not meant to remember. The training grounds are a place to learn skills
subconsciously. When you are a full immortal, then you will see and remember.”
“Why are you here?”
“I am your guide. No one walks the path of immortality alone. I am here to
direct you when you are lost, to appeal to you when you stray, and to teach you as you
advance. In return, I will be with you physically. It’ll be fun to walk the material again.
I haven’t been given leave to assume a physical form in millennia.”
“Weren’t you physical on the platform? I swear I felt you, and I was mortal
then.”
“Oh, well, you were delirious and close to death then. Dying and insane mortals
can perceive some pretty amazing things. I am always so fascinated by the human
condition.”
“I’m not human.”
“Maybe not, but your spirit still remains part human. It will always be so, but
then again, that’s why you’re here. Didn’t you know that of all the mortal creatures
living on Caln, only humans can become immortal?”
“But why?” she asked.
“You’re not ready to know the why of that. Didn’t the Maestros tell you that you
still had the qualities of a human spirit?”
“I had forgotten. That was a long time ago. Houris sure thought I was human.
That’s why I am immortal now.”
“That’s not the only reason. It was just the final reason.” The door to the cell
banged open, and a rysyth priest entered, looking for a fight.
“Lady Maira, I heard your scream! What. . .who. . .” he looked down at Opi,
who was sitting next to her in human form.
“I am Lord Opi.” He said calmly, speaking through the water as easily as through
the air. The rysyth backed out hastily.
“Excuse me lord. We are blessed to have the spirit of Fortune in our midst. How
may I serve?” Opi tossed him a coin. It was tiny from his fingers, but by the time it
reached the rysyth’s hands, it was as big as his palm.
“The lady needs to speak with the council concerning her recent trip to Arynstar,
and she needs to meet with Friar Savrin of Caius, and candidate Berang of Dorrum
Trench.”
“The council has anxiously awaited Maira’s recovery this last month. We were
just debating on what to do with her, knowing she was immortal, but seeing that her body
rarely took breath.” Maira was shocked.
“How long?” she said in disbelief, looking at her body. It was very thin.
“Actually, it has been a month and a half, Lady. We feared for you.”
 “By the Maestros.” She said, awed. “I should be dead.” Her stomachs chose that
moment to wake, both the one in her human torso and the one in her proper middle.
“Yes, you should.” Opi said. “That said, I recommend that before you visit with
anyone, you should take your breakfast.”
“Very good! I will bring it to you. We have shark wrapped in seaweed this
morning. I hope that will do.” Opi gave her an odd look.
“I don’t think—”
“That sounds good, I’m starving.” Maira said at the same time, tasting bile. The
rysyth swam off.
“I hope you can stomach it.”
“I fell ready to eat a whale.” Opi shrugged and settled in, watching her closely.
The priest returned with a large chunk of shark steak so large that she could eat only a
part. The priest wrung his hands, apologizing, but it was not long before she threw it up.
With a calm snap of his fingers, he cleaned the mess out of the water.
“Was it not to your taste?” he asked, disappointed.
“No. I just couldn’t handle it.” she said, panting.
“I was going to suggest that you try drinking blood Maira; you can’t handle solids
in this state. You’ve been out a long time without food.” Opi said. Maira frowned.
“But why didn’t you say so?”
“I wanted to see if you could handle it.” He said, shrugging. “I thought maybe
since the sound of fish appealed to you that you might be able to stomach it.”
“I shouldn’t need blood. Lord Sorrith said it was an option only. I’m not
undead.”
“No, but it is something I know you will be able to digest.”
“Are you offering?”
“Don’t be silly. I don’t bleed. But this fellow does.” The priest looked at Opi.
“Of Course! How selfish of me, you are a blessed child of Sorrith. Lady Maira,
please take a small amount to ease you eternal watch.” Maira shuddered, hearing the
invitation given to her that was usually given to one of the undead. Cautiously, she
approached the huge wing he held out for her. Opi handed her the dagger, Destiny. She
slit open the flesh and latched on, gagging as the blood flowed too quickly for her to
swallow. She put the flat of the blade against the wound when she finished and the cut
healed magically. The priest shuddered
“I am pleased that you are whole, my lady. Do you feel better?”
“I. . .I think I can keep this down.” She said, sheathing the dagger and hooking it
to her belt. She didn’t feel so hungry anymore and her flesh was filling out somewhat.
Opi handed her a short robe to cover her human torso.
“There now. You look better already.”
“I feel better.” she said, stretching. “Let’s go find Berang.”
“Berang of Dorrum Trench? He’s in the temple of Caius. Neither he nor Savrin
have been allowed to leave until you had recovered. We were supposed to escort you
under arms to the nexus. Not all of our council believe that you did not intend to wreck
our complex. The Maestros have not seen fit to speak to us.”
“Well of course
not, mortal. You’d die.” Opi said impatiently. “I suppose they could just allow you to
live, come down here and explain everything, but what is the point in that? You’d lose
your free will, that’s what would happen. Faith is good for you. Knowing would blow
your mind. By the council, you don’t understand what you ask.”
“I apologize, lord Opi. It is just. . .seeing lady Maira here, knowing that the
Maestros were in our midst to rescue her from the place of reflection. . .”
“I understand. This is a shock to all of Innus.”
“Yes, lord Opi. The Maestros have not visited us since before humans taught us
to write. Their interaction with us is only a legend. We are quite. . .excited. Is this all
because of lady Maira?”
“There haven’t been any new immortals for a long time, even by our reckoning,
but the Maestros are always very close to the new ones. I believe the last one was Avrim
Togri, and he went under Caius’s patronage.” Opi gave Maira a knowing glance. Her
eyebrows shot up in astonishment.
“Oh! The father of the Togri nation is an immortal? I didn’t know. Our history
says that one day he simply disappeared, and was never seen again. We’ve had young
fool men go on searches for him ever since.” Maira said.
“Well, yes. He became immortal and was no longer allowed to make his home on
the material plane. Maybe you’ll meet him one day. He’s a fascinating man, for an
ascended human.” He stretched, shaking himself. “Oh, heavens, it feels good to be
completely on the material again. Can you swim? I think this young rysyth wants us to
go somewhere.”
“Oh, yes. But I’m not young, though you flatter me to say so. I alerted the temple
councilor that you were awake when I went to fetch food. He told me that I should take
you to the nexus immediately.” Maira frowned.
“Oh no. I remember what happened last time I was invited to enter the nexus.
Besides, if I am immortal now, how can I pass the room of reflection?”
“Because, my lady, the magic of the place is gone. There has been a group of
Caius’s true immortals down here ever since, trying to repair the damage. They refuse to
speak even one word to us, but their faces are very grim.” Maira looked at Opi, who also
frowned.
“You’d better take us.” He said quietly. The rysyth opened the door.
“As you wish.” He said, swimming out. Maira swam after him, with Opi holding
on to her tail. He swore as he was hooked by the tiny barbs on the last foot of it.
“Damnit, that stings. I’d hate to be the mortal caught on the rough end of this.”
He said, moving his hands higher up her