Gale & Hymn

by Wendy T Lyoness

  “Not where I’m from, no.” Iorvil sighed. “It does in the empire, I’m certain, but I haven’t flown in their airships before in my life. They’re reserved for their leadership and wealthy. Those who can afford them. Those who need to be transported near battlefields.”

  “Wow… That’s—“

  “Were you a warrior?” Hymn asked.

  Iorvil met her eyes with a surprising politeness, as if she actually worried she’d upset her. She expected a quick answer but ended up lingering in the giant’s gaze.

  “What? The heavy axe didn’t give it away?” Gale snorted. “You think she’s a baker, Hymn?”

  “No, I don’t. I—”

  “You do.”

  She swatted her twin’s shoulder. “I don’t. Stop it.”

  “I’m a faithful of Rhabour, god of time.” Iorvil smiled. “I wouldn’t have been a warrior if my people hadn’t been forced to fight for our survival. Might have been a baker then, who knows. Another lifetime.”

  The ship righted itself. Hymn crawled out from under the table along with her twin and rose to her feet. When she stood next to Iorvil, her head was at chest height of the giant, and she had to lift her head to look her in the eye.

  Iorvil offered her hand. Hymn shook it, but she doubted that’s what the giant had expected her to do since she received a quizzical expression in return.

  “We’ve never heard of the god of time,” Gale said, pushed her aside, and placed herself in front of Iorvil. “You should tell us everything about him.”

  “After I’ve cornered Phoxene.”

  “Can’t wait, Iorvil.”

  Hymn rolled her eyes. She’d already surrendered whatever claim Furore might have made on her behalf on the giant. Gale didn’t have to turn it into a competition. Whenever the chance presented itself, Hymn would return home.

  Trust

  Iorvil pulled her axe out of the hull where it’d gotten stuck, slung it over her shoulder, and waved for them to follow her up a staircase. Gale had tried damn hard to lift that axe, yet it hadn’t budged. She couldn’t deny that she found herself somewhat awestruck by their new friend. How strong was she? Could she lift a horse?

  “She’s all yours,” Hymn whispered and stuck her tongue out.

  “All mine…?”

  “If you wish, I can help you with the lovey-dovey romance stuff too.” Hymn mocked her. “I know you.”

  Gale stopped in the middle of the staircase while Iorvil and Hymn continued up until they arrived at the door to the next deck. Her tail thumped the narrow walls. She’d not thought she’d made her thoughts so obvious to her twin, and now that she had, she didn’t know how to feel about Hymn’s reaction.

  Maybe she would appreciate help, but she wouldn’t marry the first woman that fell in front of her. If she’d been such a loose lady, she would already have gotten married to one of her many suitors who’d professed eternal love after they’d listened to her sing and play the lute in Caelora.

  Besides, Iorvil might think of her as droll. She might not appreciate her at all. How could Hymn just assume the human didn’t find them ugly? They looked nothing alike. The standards for beauty were bound to be completely weird wherever Iorvil hailed from. In her empire, they might hate anyone with horns. They might have banned music altogether.

  “Stay behind me,” Iorvil said after she’d forced the door open and Hymn made an attempt to slip outside. She held her arm in front of her. “The empire kidnapped Phoxene, and others of my brethren, when they were young. She would have been a keeper of time, if they’d not messed with her mind. Now she’s… dangerous.”

  “We can stay inside until you call for us.” Hymn suggested, straightened her back, and seemed to stand on her toes to appear taller. “My twin and I may not be warriors ourselves, but our mother taught us how to fight with swords.”

  Iorvil nodded, stepped outside, and closed the door behind her. Hymn waited a bit before she opened the door again and peered out through a crack that let light into the staircase.

  Gale wasn’t blind. She could see what was going on, even if Hymn couldn’t. She hummed the intro to a famous ballad about star struck lovers, walked up the stairs, and leaned her back against the wall next to her sister.

  “Iorvil’s our best hope for survival, for getting home, but we can’t become reliant on her,” Hymn said.

  Gale cleared her throat, coughed twice to make her twin listen to her, and hummed louder. “A tavern girl, once defiant.” The original lyrics to the ballad didn’t fit the situation, but she knew how to improvise well enough to irk Hymn. “Now warns her sister about the beautiful giant.”

  Hymn crossed her arms, faced her with a scowl. “You’re so annoying. My life doesn’t need its personal jester.”

  “She fears we’ll become reliant on the giant, but before you know it, dear listener, she’ll be seduced and pliant…” Gale bowed with a flourish.

  Hymn grabbed her by the tip of her ear before she could finish bowing and twisted it hard until Gale begged for mercy, yet even then, she didn’t release her iron hold on her poor, damaged ear. “If you bring the bad luck of you know who down on me, in this mess, which you caused, I’ll never speak to you again. Do you understand?”

  “I do, I do.” Gale whimpered. “I love you.”

  Hymn released her ear when she reminded them of their unique bond. “I love you too, but you’re…”

  “I can handle the truth.”

  “Cloud-headed.”

  “Honestly, I expected worse after you tried to wrench my ear off.” Gale laughed and caressed the tip of her ear. “But you’re correct, I’m so cloud-headed.”

  “I’m sorry.” Hymn turned her back on her to peek out of the door. “No one riles me up like you do. I don’t like your songs when they’re about me.”

  “How could I become famous if my songs didn’t feature you?” She glanced up at her horns, ran her fingers along them, and briefly entertained the idea to join a band of travelling freaks once more. “Who would I even be without you, Hymn? I wish you could understand my dream.”

  “I wish we could be normal.”

  She supposed she should take that as a hint, a refusal to listen to her perspective, but they were on an adventure whether Hymn planned to admit that or not. They might be brought back home within the next hour, yet this was the most excitement either of them had had since Sally the Skull had threatened to blow up his own first mate.

  “I feel this…” She lowered her voice into a mere whisper. Hymn could listen if she wanted to. She wouldn’t strive to annoy her twin again, not for a while at least. “This calling deep inside, from something great. Something who promises me the world. I can’t explain it.”

  “You should be able to,” Hymn whispered back. “No one will listen to a singer who can’t put words on their feelings.”

  Gale suppressed a sigh and chuckled. “You’re right. Good point.”

  “You could become famous without leaving Caelora. In time. I believe in you.”

  “Yeah…” She didn’t think her twin was wrong, necessarily, as the names of the best craftsmen in the world often spread from country to country. But she’d spent her entire life in Caelora, over twenty years, and she’d not gotten closer to her goal.

  Gale stretched her hand out and stroked her twin’s back. No matter the cost, she’d see Hymn safe back home. She wasn’t sure if she’d want to return or not herself, so soon, but she didn’t have to tell anyone that.

  Hope would forgive her, Venviel had practically encouraged rebellion with stories of Orchid Brave. She was on her first adventure, and for all she cared, it could last forever.

  Unleashed

  A hawk released a piercing scream. The airship soared across the green highlands and ravines of a familiar landscape. Mountains surrounded them on every side, and even though Iorvil couldn’t see their peaks through the clouds, she was overcome by homesickness.

  Phoxene tore her heart out with vistas she’d never thought she�
�d lay eyes on again. Why had the indoctrinated woman brought them somewhere that resembled their original home so much? Didn’t she think of the empire as her home?

  Iorvil strode across the oblong deck toward the stern while the large ring that kept the airship floating spun around its middle and brimmed with energy. Phoxene had to be awake, in a sound state of mind, if she’d regained control of the vessel.

  She’d watched enough airships crash, with faithful warriors aboard, that she could tell when they worked and when they didn’t. She preferred it when they crashed without her people.

  Phoxene stood in the stern, with her back against the railing surrounding the deck, and moved her arms in specific patterns to control the ring around the airship. Iorvil waved at her to prepare her for a chat or confrontation. They both knew she wouldn’t use her axe unless they’d landed. It might provide them with the neutral ground they required to reach an understanding.

  “Sister!” Iorvil called out to Phoxene and held her axe at her side. “Why have you brought us here? I thought you obeyed the will of Thotrix!”

  Phoxene lowered her arms, pulled the sleeves of her gown up, and bared the machines they’d exchanged for her flesh. Cogs clicked against each other, chugged, and through their brass design, Iorvil swore she could see the whites of bone.

  “We were brethren once!” She feared she’d achieve the same result if she appealed to their shared ancestry again, but what else could she do? If Phoxene had believed in Rhabour in any of her lifetimes, she would heed his call. “Thotrix’s servants stole you, and hundreds like you, away from us. Rhabour has given you a new beginning. Don’t squander such a precious gift.”

  “I’m done with the gods!” Phoxene shouted, indignantly, and held her bare arms up in the dim light. “You see what they did to me! How do I know your god will not do worse? I watched you decapitate a man.”

  “You—“

  “He treated me like a dog, a mindless object, but he was capable of great kindness too. He had a family.” Phoxene trembled. The bow of the ship descended before she refocused and pulled it up. “How do I know you won’t cut my head off next? If you’re my sister, I’d sooner toss you off this deck and take my chances alone. I own this airship now. He listens to me. You don’t even know his name.”

  “The Gustfin!” She’d seen it written along the hull of the stern when she’d boarded the airship with Jerfell and the faithful. “That’s the name of your ship, and I don’t plan to steal him from you. I only wish to bring the stowaways home again, then we can part ways. I have a mission. I must find a new beginning for our people, but I understand if you do not wish to join my cause. We’ve never known each other. Perhaps you’ve not kept a single memory from your old life.”

  Phoxene lowered her arms, so her sleeves fell over the machines. “Stowaways?”

  “Indeed. A bickering pair.” Iorvil nodded and considered disarming for the hundredth time since she’d woken up. Phoxene may not feel threatened if she didn’t have her axe. “They came aboard wherever we were a moment ago. If you’d return them to their home, I could depart along with them.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t help you.” Phoxene frowned.

  “Why?”

  “I’ve no idea where we crashed, so I possess neither the knowledge nor the energy to bring your friends there.” Phoxene stepped away from the railing, stumbled, and fell back against it with a grunt. “I’m weak after these massive leaps. Haven’t eaten in days, slept fitfully.”

  Iorvil had feared this outcome the moment the ship had jumped, but she’d hoped for the best nonetheless. She hung the axe on the thick belt around her waist and approached Phoxene cautiously. The mage may still decide to fling her off the deck of the Gustfin. It wouldn’t be hard for her when she could make the vessel roll.

  “Don’t, sister.” Phoxene stretched her arms, pushed the Gustfin to pick up its speed out of nowhere, and forced Iorvil to brace lest she trip and fall. “You won’t catch me off-guard, but if you try, if you make a sudden movement, I’ll risk tossing us both to our deaths. Doubt I’ve long left.”

  Iorvil stopped a few meters from her. “If we work together, we’ll survive longer. I need your help to bring the stowaways home, and you need me if you want to eat. I know how to hunt and cook. Land the ship, I’ll prepare a meal for us while you rest.”

  “I’ll…” Phoxene paused, ran a hand through her wild, red hair as it fluttered in the wind, and weighed her words. “I’ll consider it. I can land the ship, fine, but I can’t get your friends home without knowing the destination. I didn’t leave my airship.”

  “Is there a way for you to learn where we were? If they describe it—“

  Phoxene shook her head. “It won’t make a difference. I can’t go off their descriptions. The world is huge, they’ll merely confuse me. We might end up further and further away from their origin with each leap, making it unlikely they’ll get home this year.”

  “I’ll tell the pair.” Iorvil sighed, touched the holy symbol around her neck, and caressed its full moon with her thumb. “May Rhabour watch over them.”

  “You do that.” Phoxene scowled while she watched her ask for guidance.

  Did she truly believe she could be done with the gods without them taking offense?

  Truce

  Fate had told her to seek Rhabour in the moon, and she’d almost assumed it was a riddle until she’d gone to the moon in search of the god of time. Best place to start, right, even if Fate could be cryptic.

  Furore strode across the dead, barren surface, stared at the planet Lho Allanar wasn’t even a dot on, and questioned whether Fate would hear her if she shouted her name, or if gods had limits too. Against the void of space, the greens and blues of the planet stood out in great contrast, but what stood out even more was the oasis.

  It didn’t exist in a desert, it couldn’t be a mirage. No, it lingered on the horizon between the black void and the grey moon, as if someone had splashed a single dot of vibrant pink right there.

  She found Rhabour in the midst of the oasis. He rested on a log overgrown by moss, on grass, in a forest that couldn’t survive without him while thousands of pink butterflies hovered around his form.

  She’d thought all gods favoured humanoid bodies, whenever they picked their true form, yet Rhabour could only be described as a furred, pale gryphon with an endless tail, the face of a dragon, and tusks growing out of his mouth. He seemed weakened, near death, and watched her with clear distrust.

  “Greetings, I am—“

  “I know who you are.” Rhabour exposed his long, sharp teeth when he spoke. “I remember everything.”

  “Right, so, skipping the pleasantries.” Furore summoned a throne out of the rocks of the moon, took a seat, and crossed her legs. “I have a proposition for you, Rhabour, if you’re willing to listen.”

  He rested his head on the log, kicked at the butterflies with one of his hind legs. “I can only listen. I couldn’t visit my own champion again unless she inspired thousands to follow her, and it appears she fails to gain others’ trust.”

  The god of time’s pitiful act appalled her. If she lost Lho Allanar, and the elves that worshipped her, she might meet a similar end. She hated the idea that she would die like him. So pathetic. Ew.

  “I’d like to help you regain your strength.”

  “Why?”

  “My…” She’d come with a proposition for him, on Fate’s behalf, while the other goddess sought out Thotrix, but seeing him in this state made her reconsider. “I just do. We’re the same you and I, and I’d hate to lose you. What would mortals be without time?”

  Rhabour coughed, heaved, and laughed. “Time won’t disappear with me. Love won’t disappear with you. We’ll be replaced, always, as long as there is a need for someone to fill our slots.”

  “Would you meet with Thotrix to put an end to your war, if Fate and I was there to protect you?”

  “Fate is not to be trusted, Fiona.”

  “Fiona…?�
��

  He observed her. “Ah, never mind. I mistook you for someone else. Thotrix will kill me if we meet. Progress thinks it can speed up the slow crawl of years and decades.”

  “Let’s pretend I had a new beginning for your puppet.” Furore steepled her fingers. “Would you do it then?”

  “What do you gain on helping me?”

  “I, obviously, hope you’ll at the very least owe me a favour or ten.”

  Rhabour scoffed. “I see, demon. In that case, I suggest you prove you can provide more than empty promises. Fading into oblivion doesn’t scare me.”

  Dependence

  Iorvil had no idea how to break it to the twins that they couldn’t return home. She should have asked Rhabour to guide her tongue, and give her the gift of wisdom, but she doubted it would have helped. She didn’t wish to waste her god’s resources either. If she wanted to earn the right to be his champion, she had to show she could accomplish the tasks set before her on her own.

  “So, how’d it go?” Gale grinned at her with her entire face when Iorvil opened the door to the staircase leading down to the lower decks.

  “We didn’t hear you call for help, and…” Hymn looked at her axe. “It seems you didn’t shed blood. Did you find her?”

  “I did.”

  “She can’t bring us home, can she? We’re going to have to fly with you for a few weeks yet, aren’t we?” Gale seemed strangely eager for disappointment. “What a genuine shame. My heart’s sunk.”

  “Don’t jinx me.” Hymn swatted her twin’s shoulder, and glared at Gale, before smiling politely at Iorvil. “How soon can you undo this mistake? You seem capable, enough, even if she refused to cooperate. How difficult can it be to fly this ship ourselves?”

  “It requires a magical attunement, and these machines drilled into your arms.” Iorvil gripped her own forearm to indicate where Thotrix’s servants placed their shackles on her brethren. “Unless either of you have been trained in the arcane, I’m afraid I don’t know how to get you home. Phoxene has agreed to work with me, us, but she’s too weak to make the ship jump again. And she doesn’t know where—”