by Kyrja
::Why are you doing this to me?:: Sov asked her, his wings, ragged from his fight with Amphedia, drooping. ::You loved me once.::
::And I love you now,:: Lumas replied, the weight of her deceptively-looking thin mist holding him in place as nothing else in all the universe could. ::I have done all you have asked me to do, even though you no longer remember,:: she whispered, her voice a soothing balm to his shattered being. ::Do you remember when we both stood upon the sands and touched for the first time, my love?:: she asked him, projecting a memory of the event into what was left of his psyche. ::Do you remember what it was like? The burning sands, the dry breeze. The feel of human flesh on human flesh? You were standing alone and I hid from you, laughing. You thought I was making fun of you, but I was overwhelmed at how amazing you were. Tell me you remember our meeting, Sov. Our very first one.::
::You were so beautiful,:: he breathed, his voice quiet, awed, and drowsy.
::We laughed together. We smiled together, as both the sun and moon stood still above us,:: she reminded him.
::I asked you to stay,:: she could hear the echo of joy remembered in his voice.
::And what did I tell you, Sov? Do you remember what answer I gave you?::
::Always … :: he breathed out for the last time, his wings folding in upon themselves, his head bowing, his legs pulling up into a fetal position until his body resembled a rock, floating through space, bereft of life. His internal fires flared brilliantly for the blink of an eye, then the once-magnificent Firebird, the rarest-of-creatures, crumbled to ash.
Lumas gathered it all onto herself, then floated serenely away from the planet below, without a backwards glance at he who had taken her place in the skies above the planet; from all she had known for hundreds of years, burrowing through the fabric of time and space to another place and time where she might begin anew.
* * * * * * * *
“Two suns!” Nieva cried out excitedly, launching herself into the sky.
Honsa felt himself smile at her excitement. She had seen two suns in the crystal goblet when she’d held it in her hands, and now here it was, before their very eyes, just as she had first witnessed when she had been staying with her grandfather, Oculis. This small child undoubtedly had an amazing future ahead of her. The two suns shone together for only a brief moment, then one went out, its light no longer visible. An audible sigh rippled through those gathered together, knowing Denit had taken up her post as the Sun Goddess.
“The shields!” Giya suddenly shouted, fear lancing through those two small words in a way that made all those gathered around her panic. In the next moment she was gone, as everyone else rushed to get inside the temple where the Shield Room lay.
“They are gone!” Vray’s voice pierced the din of dozens of voices. “How is this possible?” he asked, turning to Giya.
“Denit, of course,” she answered calmly. “Perhaps it was her way of thanking you for your courage,” she smiled at him. “Are you not happy?”
“Oh yes,” Vray gushed. “Very happy. Never will another’s life force be given to Sov, or to anyone else. This is amazing!” he smiled, walking towards the piles of rubble where the giant shields had once hung, as if he was in a daze.
“Giya!” Eruitt called out, “the council members, they …”
“Exploded? Disintegrated? Dissolved?” she asked, raising a single eyebrow. “Or did they actually die?”
“No,” he replied, shaking his head, “they didn’t die. They weren’t alive. Did you know?”
“I suspected, Eruitt, but I wasn’t certain. This is Nohoyo, after all, and has been Sov’s to rule for a very long time. Their lack of heartbeat could have meant anything, but I was fairly certain they were only kept alive by Sov’s will.”
“You could have told me,” he frowned.
“We have much to discuss in the coming days, I promise,” she told him, patting him on one shoulder. “And then I will leave you.”
“What?” he stared at her, his mouth hanging open in shock.
“I am tired,” she told him, “and Lumas is gone, taking a large part of who I have always been away from me. And,” she tried to smile at him, “the earth itself needs to be healed. It needs me more than you do.”
“But … but …!” he sputtered.
“We’ll talk more of my plans, and yours, once we have a few things in order,” she promised him, turning away to get Jarles’ attention. Before she could reach him, though, Rajesh intercepted her, asking her to follow him to where they were keeping Afdal and Than.
“What is it?” she asked him. “Is there something wrong?”
“You will have to be the judge of that,” he replied. “Afdal is changing, but we aren’t sure what’s causing it. Ozahm thinks he may be using his own magic to change into a creature that he thinks may be more difficult for us to hold, but Borja thinks he is changing because something happened to him.”
“Is he changing into a sea creature?” Batal asked, walking up behind them. “I’m sorry for eavesdropping, my Lady, my Lord,” she said, nodding her head at each of them. “But I could feel the changes from the other side of the room and have some small experience with what I think has caused him to change,” she told them, holding up her Tear. “I healed one of the Mezhdu,” she explained. “Ordan. While I was healing him, one of the others was trying to bond with him, so it ended up broadcasting the effect with some … startling results.”
“What do you mean by startling?” Sahil asked, joining them.
Giya looked up, noticing that most of the others had followed her, as Batal and Savaar had. She preferred smaller audiences. She wasn’t used to having to consider so many others at once, but it appeared everyone had been affected by their current situation, so she would have to exercise more patience than usual, and make sure those who had information to share did so.
“It wasn’t just the Tear itself,” Chared put in. “It was the sound you created,” he said, nodding at Batal. “It changed things for many people, even killing a few who Amphedia called from the sea.”
“The point is,” Batal interjected, “that those who were changed were from the sea, so the question then, is why is Afdal changing?”
“His mother was what people in your land call a Bahari,” Sahil answered. “Someone who is part human, and part sea creature.”
“So he is evolving,” Chared explained. “We’ve already seen a lot of that happening.”
“He keeps phasing in and out,” Rajesh spoke up. “He seems to be fully human, and then seems to … fade … into something else. And now that you’ve given me an idea of what to look for, I would say that he is becoming an eel or serpent of some sort.”
“His whole body?” Batal asked, alarmed.
Rajesh shrugged. “It’s hard to say. Borja thinks that if we weren’t holding him, he would finish his transition, that our magic is interfering with whatever is happening to him.”
“Let me see him!” Sahil demanded, pushing past everyone else.
Giya stepped aside, allowing Sahil to move past her, then remained standing still, causing confusion as the others waited for her to go ahead of them. She swept a hand in front of her, indicating they should proceed her, then walked back towards the rest of the crowd, searching for Jarles. The others would handle the situation with Afdal, she was sure, now that they understood what the problem was, but only she would be able to deal with Jarles. There he was, standing next to Sabbah, talking to him. Good. She was certain the two of them would be pleased to see each other again.
* * * * * * * *
“… but when we got her back to the surface, she wasn’t breathing,” Sabbah said, explaining to Jarles what had happened to him. “That’s when I told Ordan to use the Tear on her.”
“Does that mean it’s really hers now, and you can no longer use it?” Jarles asked him.
“I don’t need to use it anymore,” Sabbah laughed. “Isn’t that amazing?”
“But does that mean you have to stay in t
he sea now?” Jarles pressed.
“I’m here now,” he replied.
“But will you have to live in the sea, or can you stay on land now? Can you live a normal life, with me?” Jarles wanted to know. “I’ve missed you,” he said, smiling at his grandfather.
“One advantage to living under water is that I don’t have to worry about whether or not my Qatyeh shows that I’m sweating!” he laughed out loud. “I suppose that’s a really good thing, given that your grandmother is now the Sun Goddess. Knowing her, she would make sure that no matter where I lived, it would be hotter there than anywhere else, heh?” He laughed at his own joke, and Jarles could see none of the usual bitterness his Grandpa Kerr held towards his former wife. He wasn’t sure whether he had ever heard his grandfather laugh out loud before. He had always been so stressed, with an intense need to prove that he was important, in control, and in charge. And now, it was like he was an entirely different man altogether. He was more relaxed, more likely to laugh and to even smile. He was pretty sure he could get used to having him around on a permanent basis. He knew he would like to have the chance to try.
“Oh and look,” Sabbah said, pointing out Giya as she moved purposefully in their direction, “Speaking of a ray of sunshine, look who has come to brighten our day!”
“Sabbah,” Giya nodded gravely in his direction, saying, “I’d like a moment with Jarles if you don’t mind.”
“Actually,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest, “I do.”
“Grandpa,” Jarles warned him.
“No,” he insisted, “I really do mind. Besides,” he added, cocking his head slightly, “I have a feeling you’re going to want me here, My Lady.”
“What an interesting thing to say,” Giya returned. “Why do you think so?” To Jarles, it appeared that the Earth Goddess was genuinely interested in what his grandfather had to say. It was an extremely odd, and uncomfortable, feeling for him, though. And his grandfather was acting very strangely. In the past, he would have agreed to whatever someone else in authority wanted, as long as he made sure they knew how important he was. In this case, he was coming dangerously close to irritating Giya in a way he’d never seen before.
“The way I see it, you have an awful lot of things to fix around here, and not,” Sabbah emphasized, “just in Nohoyo, but throughout the entire planet. And that means you’re going to be very, very busy, and I hardly think the oceans, rivers, seas, and other waterways throughout the world are going to wait for you to catch up before they need some attention.”
“And why is that your concern?” Giya pressed, her eyes narrowing.
“Because Jarles, here, was born to be the God of the Seas. You made sure of that.” He paused, looking at Jarles. “I know that now. You knew I was a True Son of Amphedia long before I did, and that’s why you chose me for Denit. And she did what you asked. Jonath was my son too, you know,” he paused, inhaling deeply.
“Yes,” Giya nodded. “I do know, and we all mourn his loss,” she said quietly, even respectfully, surprising Jarles. “Especially those who loved him. But I will ask you again, what does any of this have to do with the waters of the world?”
“You took control of them from Amphedia while she was fighting Sov, trying to save us all. You should have given them to Jarles, not kept them for yourself.”
“That isn’t your concern,” Giya told him flatly. “This is something for Jarles and I to discuss.”
“You’re wrong!” he practically shouted, balling his hands into fists at his sides and leaning in towards Giya.
“Grandpa!” Jarles admonished him, trying to get him to let it go. “I can take care of this myself.”
“Of course you can, Jarles,” he replied, in a quieter tone of voice, “but you don’t know the price for becoming the Sea God and I do. And I won’t have it!”
“That’s enough,” Giya said, drawing herself up, a dangerous glint in her eye.
“No, my Lady, it isn’t,” Sabbah shook his head sadly. “Tell him. If you won’t, I will.”
“Of course I was going to tell him,” she replied. “That’s why I came over here to talk to him,” she sighed.
“The price for being the God of the Seas?” Jarles found himself angry. “I don’t know what you mean by saying that Giya made sure I was born the way I am,” he said, looking at his grandfather, “but I can tell you I have paid the price for being Amphedia’s heir every day of my life,” he said to Giya. “My mother was murdered and hacked to pieces, my father sacrificed himself, and I’ve been both taunted and haunted by the Storm Goddess since I was a small child. If that isn’t enough for you, then you can keep them!” he shouted. He turned away from both of them, walking towards the exit, angrier than he’d ever been. Until he felt the floor beneath him stop moving. Instead of struggling, though, he stood still, feeling the hold Giya had on him. She had used her powers to prevent him from leaving!
“You once told me,” he said very clearly, without turning around, “that you weren’t sure whether I was a god or not.” Using his anger to fuel the powers he had long felt were within him, he sliced through the invisible bonds holding him. “Now you know!” Then he disappeared, causing everyone watching to gasp.
“Good for him!” Sabbah smiled.
“Why did you do that?” she turned on him, her eyes blazing.
“Because you betrayed him by taking control of the seas for yourself when you took them from Amphedia, instead of giving it directly to him. I’ve been alive a very long time, you know,” he told her. “And I’ve died a great many times, thanks to my mother – the Sea Goddess. How can I not know he has to kill what means the most to him? How can I not?” he shook his head.
“Giya,” he said more softly, “Amphedia was a wonderful mother until she had to kill her children in order to gain control of the seas from you. I’m not blaming you, that was her fault for wanting what she couldn’t have. But when she couldn’t choose which one among us, she killed us all, and because of it became …well … terrible. Vicious. Evil.” He paused again, shaking his head, as if remembering. “That’s why I came here, once I realized I was still alive – so I could offer myself willingly. To wrap my hands around his as he held the knife and plunge it into my own chest if necessary. I won’t have him become what my mother did. He’s done enough.”
“It isn’t up to her,” Borja spoke as she moved between the two of them. “We vowed to never allow her to give the seas away again.”
“It doesn’t matter now,” Sabbah said, a sour expression on his face. “He’s gone now, and when the day comes that I find him again, I’ll make sure he stays away. You’ve made a grave error, Giya. And the rest of you too,” he added, looking at Borja. “If you’re smart, you’ll find a way to fix this. If not, I don’t care, because I’ll get to spend a very long time with my grandson.” Sabbah turned away from them then, and walked out the door.
“Come,” Borja told Giya, “we need to know what to do with Afdal.”
“Let Sahil decide,” Giya replied.
“But …”
“Let Sahil decide,” she repeated through clenched teeth. “I am this planet and this planet is me. We have both been damaged and need to heal. I can do no more. Send Eruitt to me. Outside. I cannot stand to be in this building one moment more.” With that, Giya put one weary foot in front of the other, tracing Sabbah’s steps to leave the building.
* * * * * * * *
Sitting quietly, acting as if he was defeated, Than watched everything going on all around him. He knew the one called Ozahm had a particular interest in him, because even when he was pretending not to be looking him, he was watching just the same. He could feel it. That one wasn’t entirely pleased to be aligned with Giya, if he didn’t miss his mark. He had a thirst for blood. For death, and for causing it. He knew the feeling well. Both of them were misplaced, and he wondered how he might convince him to form an alliance. He would have to move carefully this time, he reminded himself. The bold move he’d made in
taking the five Fire Tenders to Bila hadn’t worked out so well, but that was only because he hadn’t expected a god to be waiting for him when he arrived.
Nor had he expected the emperor to be dead. He wasn’t altogether certain the emperor was dead, either. Just because Kaya had told him so, didn’t make it true. If the emperor was dead, that meant he was free of his oath, and he wouldn’t have to be afraid of what he might do to him. On the other hand, he reminded himself, it was still possible that the emperor had transferred his power and oaths to his daughter, and he didn’t like her one bit. She was as cold-hearted as her father, that one. He’d been told she had died a few years back, but it looked like whoever told him that had been wrong.
If Ozahm was as hungry for the kill as he was, they could wreak some magnificent terror together, he smiled to himself, looking up to catch him looking his way again. Then he saw Ozahm headed his way and wondered if gods could read minds. Why didn’t I think of that before? he wondered, suddenly feeling very small and even afraid. The look Ozahm was giving him was one of a predator who is playing with its prey before it strikes.
“Death,” Ozahm hissed at Than, standing over him, “is a beautiful thing, don’t you agree?”
Than knew his eyes, locked on Ozahm’s, were far too wide to feign disinterest or to try humor to dispel his fear; he was frozen in place, only managing to nod his head a little bit.
“Especially when it rids nature of disease like you,” he whispered quietly, his teeth bared. Touching Than’s chest, the Lord of Death killed the magic maker from Bila, letting his body fall to the ground with no last words spoken; no forgiveness asked nor given.
“One less problem for Giya to fix,” he said, turning back to Afdal.
“Leave here!” Sahil shouted, standing between the god and his son.
“You think to threaten me?” Ozahm asked, a sly look on his face.
“I do,” Jahari told him, quietly, calmly, maintaining her seat. “You came when you were asked to. Thank you. Since Giya has other things more pressing right now, I will wait here with them,” she nodded at Afdal and Sahil, “until she can make the time to see us. Your help is needed elsewhere.”