by Davis Ashura
Another Fireball burned toward him. She'd launched it too close for him to evade, and he turned to the side. It thudded into his Shield. The echo of the impact thundered out, bending branches in all directions. The water below rocked with heavy waves.
It was an impressive explosion, but more importantly, the impact caused Rukh's Shield to go out. Once again, he desperately sought distance. The Sorrow Bringer kept after him. He blocked and evaded until he could finally reestablish his Shield. On came the Queen.
With Her next pass, Rukh recognized Her stance. He knew what She would do next. A thrust to his head was a feint. Following after came a sweep with Her staff as She attempted to trip him. He rose above Her weapon and snapped out a kick. It thudded against Her face, and She stumbled back.
A grimace replaced Her smile.
Rukh had finally landed a blow against Her, but he didn't let even the slightest sense of success come to him. He held to his calmness.
A darting slash was aimed at Suwraith's head, and She slapped away his sword. Rukh stepped in close and angled a short chop at Her shoulder. She blocked with a smooth motion of Her staff. He ducked Her return swing but continued to pressure Her. He needed to stay inside the circle of Her staff. The Sorrow Bringer tried to rise out of reach, but Rukh kept up with Her. She darted right and left, but he was always there.
Her wound did slow Her, and She was unable to escape. Rukh feinted. It was a dangerous plan. With one hand on the hilt of his sword, he thrust up at Her abdomen. She stepped aside, and Her staff twirled. It would slam into his temple. From this distance, there would be no chance for his Shield to hold. It would be the same fearsome blow that had ended Jessira.
But in Rukh's other hand, hidden behind his back, was a Fireball. The Queen's eyes widened in realization. Her staff would strike him, but not before his Fireball struck Her.
Suwraith screamed in agony. Rukh's head exploded in pain. His sword flickered and disappeared. The Fireball had punched through the Queen's Shield. A gaping hole in Her abdomen passed entirely through the glowing violet motes of Her essence. Rukh knew it wasn't over. Though both he and the Queen plunged downward, he knew there was still a chance She might survive Her terrible injury.
He could feel himself coming apart, the same as what Jessira had probably experienced. He held on to his determination. His mission was not yet complete. He forced his essence together. He reformed his sword.
Though his vision had grown dark, he spotted the Queen. She was close. Her mouth gaped in terror and somehow She sensed his regard and his determination. Her own visage steeled, and Her staff reformed.
Rukh managed to halt his freefall at the same time as the Sorrow Bringer. They squared off against one another, both severely injured but neither willing to back down. Rukh leveled his blade. He slashed, a cut that rose from right-to-left. The Queen blocked.
Rukh looked the Sorrow Bringer in the eyes, staring at the being who was the author of so much cruelty. She stared back. Her eyes glowed resoluteness. They locked in place for less than a second, but it was a span of time too long. With his left hand, Rukh grabbed hold of Suwraith's staff. Her eyes widened once again. She understood Her mistake. A fleeting look of regret passed over Her face. His sword was still gripped in his right hand, and Rukh slammed it home.
It punched into Suwraith's chest and out Her back. She screamed. The cry ascended in pitch. More distantly, Rukh noted the glad shout of another woman as she rose to the singing light.
But for the Queen, Her scream endured. It went on and on. It was the sound of fear and fury and mortal agony. Suwraith's essence dissipated into glowing embers. Rukh watched as Her motes rose, not to the singing light, but elsewhere. She went to some far, distant place beyond Arisa, beyond his knowing, up past the sky into an inky sea filled with wrecked islands. Her embers passed from Rukh's sight just as Her echoing cry passed from his hearing.
The Sorrow Bringer was dead.
Rukh would have felt elation, but he hurt too badly to feel anything but regret and grief. Jessira. He couldn't rightly sense her. Rukh slumped toward the muddy water, and his mind stilled.
The longing man on a quiet night,
His heart's ease is driven by his need
For the lively woman who makes bright
Music and laughter with the bold reed.
She plays a flute made of warmth and light,
And in divine Rapture comes the creed
From a song of duty and of flight
When the longing man and the lively woman are freed.
~Romance and Love by Anto Jakper, AF 1456
A white light burned from somewhere high above him. It shined like a beacon, steady, unblinking, and unmoving. For the longest length of time, a period measured in heartbeats and the absence of memory, he simply watched the orb. He studied it, perplexed as to what it was.
Then again, who was he? It was a more interesting question, and one he considered with as much energy as he could spare. His concentration led him nowhere, and eventually, he gave up. He reckoned hours had passed, but when he returned his attention to the bright orb glowing from an unmeasurable distance away, it hadn't moved at all. Dim memory, as difficult to perceive as the sense of sight in muddy water, came to him. The orb was the sun, and it moved.
How did it move? And did a fire burn within it to cause it to be bright?
He sighed and put away his vision. He was too tired to ponder such difficult questions. His mind stilled.
A white light, the sun, burned like a beacon. Its light barely penetrated whatever it was that surrounded him. The sun stood high in the sky. It might even be noon.
A thrill of pleasure coursed through him at his recognition and remembrance of the measurement of time. He stared up at the sun, wondering why its brilliance did nothing to illuminate the surroundings in which he found himself. Was he buried beneath the ground?
With one question asked, many more followed. Foremost amongst them was this: who was he?
Once again, he had no answer. He tried to force his mind to seek the answer, but instead, an odd sight came to him. Rather than learning the truth about his identity, from a distance, he viewed an ocean of light; it was like the purest of water. It barely moved and from it came the fragrance of innocence and love.
He smiled in wonder, but once more thought and questions had swiftly grown too taxing. He put away his vision, and his mind stilled.
The sun burned dimly from high in the sky. Its light barely lit the murky water in which he found himself.
Rukh—lightning swept through him.
His name was Rukh Shektan. More memories overflowed his thoughts. His childhood. His family. A woman with a heart-shaped face and lovely lips curved into a smile. Jessira. Love filled him. His Jivatma, an ocean of purity, pulsed. From an inestimable distance away he heard a singing light.
The water around Rukh shifted and swayed. It glowed in time to the pulsing blue motes that were his essence. More memories came. The Withering Knife and horrific pain. The battle with Suwraith and victory. Any elation he might have felt at the notion of the Sorrow Bringer's demise was quickly washed away. Pain came. Jessira's death. Before Rukh had ended Her life, the Queen had struck Jessira down.
Rukh's mind grew weary once more. His thoughts became as still as the surrounding silence. So it went possibly for days, weeks, months, or maybe even longer.
Strength returned and Rukh rose from the murky waters of Lake Corruption. The setting sun met his emergence. Frogs croaked, and a warm breeze, heavy with humidity and the smell of swamp, rippled the water. In all directions, nothing other than nature stirred.
He floated above the lake, utterly alone. A sense of desolation, of loss and hurt that would never heal poured pain into his heart. He'd come to accept Jessira's absence even as he knew he would never grow used to it. His heart and soul ached at her death. They had yet to heal and perhaps never would.
A green glow emanated from somewhere close by. It was barely visible through t
he murky water, barely alive.
A tremulous spike of hope shot through Rukh. “Jessira?”
Silence met his hopeful query. “Is that my name?” came a question from the green glow. “I'm tired.”
Silence resumed, but Rukh didn't care. His heart overflowed with joy. Jessira's cinnamon-scented presence lived in his mind. She existed. He could sense her down below, weak and faint, but she lived. She would Heal just as he had.
Days later, with halting conversations to mark Jessira's returning strength and memory, she ascended from Lake Corruption in a glory of verdant light filled with the glow of life. She grinned when she saw him. “You thought I wouldn't come?” she asked.
Rukh didn't answer. He swept her into his essence and laughed. Glowing blue tendrils shifted about her green form. He breathed in her cinnamon scent, the scent of her spirit. “Never leave me again,” he pleaded.
“I won't.” Jessira held still in his presence. “I take it we won,” she said more than asked.
“We won,” Rukh confirmed. “The Queen is gone from this world.” He swept her into his embrace once again and laughed. Jessira lived.
She smiled at his joy. “Good,” she said. “I'd hate to have to fight Her again.”
“We never will,” Rukh promised, still holding onto Jessira and unwilling to let her go.
She settled into him. “How is it that I can sense your thoughts, your presence, even more than I could when we were Human?” Jessira asked.
“You already have the answers,” Rukh told her.
He felt her shift. “Why don't you just tell me,” she said with a smile. “I just came back to life, after all.”
“We were already growing close when I brought you to Ashoka the first time,” Rukh said. “We became closer when Aia gave me your knowledge of Healing. What the Kesarins do is a type of Annex.”
“And since Healing forms a bridge between patient and Healer, and we had just shared a kind of Annex, our thoughts grew even closer.”
“I thought you wanted me to tell you what happened?” Rukh asked.
Jessira laughed. “Go ahead, then.”
“We grew even closer,” Rukh confirmed, “and we might have only been another couple who were exceptionally close except for Linder Val Maharj, the First Father. When I read The Book of First Movement, He experienced my life just as much as I experienced His. And when the Sorrow Bringer came after us later that night, we linked our Blends, and Linder took the opportunity to give us another type of Annex. It was one He and His wife shared.”
“And that's why we could so easily tell what the other was thinking or feeling?”
“And why we always knew where the other one was.”
Jessira chuckled. “I don't mind that Linder did what He did without asking us since things worked out in the end.”
Rukh grinned. “Yes, they did.”
Jessira cupped his essence. “Let's go see how Ashoka's doing,” she suggested.
“Race you home?”
“You'll lose,” Jessira said.
“I've never lost a race to you,” Rukh reminded her.
“That was when you were a Kumma. Now, you've become something else. I've become something else, and your Kumma Talents won't help you anymore.”
Rukh figuratively blinked. She was right. He was no longer a Kumma, and she was no longer an OutCaste. They were no longer Human.
“So what are we?” Jessira asked.
“We've become Elementals,” Rukh told her. “That's what Suwraith said.”
“Elementals,” Jessira said as though tasting the word. “It's as good a name as any.” She kissed Rukh, a warm sensation of her green motes pressing deeply against him. “And Rukh . . .”
He could hardly think after that kiss.
“Go,” Jessira whispered before darting away.
It took him a while to figure out where she was flying off to in such a hurry, but eventually he remembered. The race. He'd challenged Jessira a race back to Ashoka.
Rukh conducted Jivatma and took off after her. As he sped along, it became easier to allow his form to disperse, to become the cloud-like shape he'd so often associated with the Queen. The world below spread out like the finest map as it blurred beneath his speed. Clouds misted against him like fine dew. Birds called out from far below. He arrowed toward the ground, racing along the course of a river. Spray marked his passage. He pulled up, going higher and higher to where the air was thin and cold.
The sensations didn't touch him. He was impervious to them. He was an Elemental. He laughed with sheer joy.
The winds blew harder, and Rukh climbed above them. He went to a place where there was hardly any air. The curve of Arisa became apparent, and darkest blackness beckoned beyond the world's globe. It was an emptiness unlike anything he could have ever imagined. He briefly wondered if even a being such as himself could survive such a void. He wasn't sure, and he didn't want to test his strength.
Just then, he sensed the scrutiny of another and paused to look about. Deep in that vast darkness, somewhere too far away to measure, a pinpoint beam reached for the singing light and then bent away. It was a rainbow, and someone—a man—rode it.
Rukh frowned in uncertainty, and when he looked again, the man and the rainbow were gone.
Rukh shrugged and returned to studying Arisa. He smiled as his regard returned to Jessira. Even from high up here, he could sense her presence. She was nearing the Sickle Sea, far ahead of him, but not too far. She still wore her womanly raiment. It was a much slower mode of travel.
Rukh smiled. He could still beat her to Ashoka.
He plunged downward at an angle. He picked up speed, faster and faster. The wind howled past him, an angry wail. Clouds were shredded as he ripped through them. His glowing blue motes became shot through with lightning.
In the end, Jessira was right. His Kumma Talents did him no good in catching up with her, but nevertheless, he still did catch her. The cloud shape was simply that much faster. Rukh adjusted his angle and straightened his flight and ended up passing Jessira somewhere over the Sickle Sea. She squawked in outrage as he swept past her and goosed her with lightning.
He grinned and kept up the speed. There was no chance she would win this race.
As he neared Ashoka, Rukh could see the damage the city had suffered, and his smile faded. The wrecks of many buildings—entire districts—still littered the streets. He would help the city clean up and rebuild, but first, there was somewhere else he needed to be. He needed to go home.
As he approached closer, he sensed the Oasis, rigid and firm once more, shielding the city. It extended all the way to the Outer Wall, and while he could have easily battered it aside, there was an easier way. Once again, Linder's knowledge proved invaluable. Rukh adjusted his form and eased his way through the Oasis.
He waited as Jessira entered Ashoka moments after him. “You could have gone on,” she said. “You didn't have to wait for me.”
Rukh grinned, pleased that he'd beaten her home. “I know, but . . .”
He trailed off when Jessira blasted past him. “The race was to your home,” she said. “That would be the Shektan House Seat, not just Ashoka. You haven't won yet.”
Rukh gaped. Then he cursed. Then he chuckled. Jessira could still surprise him.
When he arrived at the House Seat, it was to find Jessira floating above the grounds, wearing a smug smile of triumph.
“Congratulations,” he said.
*Rukh?* Aia called out. She stood on the patio outside Nanna's study. With her was Shon.
Rukh and Jessira let out a glad shout and descended. Without discussion, they both shifted and took on the appearance of a man and a woman.
*Your family lives,* Aia said, sounding as excited as Rukh had ever heard. *All of them. And some of those different Humans, the Maharajs, came home shortly after you left. Your sister and everyone else are inside.*
*My sister,* Rukh repeated, feeling stupid.
*Your sister,* Aia confirm
ed. She almost seemed to bounce from the joy she was emanating. *She said that after she saw you battling the Demon Wind, she and many of the others knew they had to return to Ashoka and help repair the city.*
*What if we'd lost to the Queen?* Rukh asked, aghast. *They would have all died. Everything we did for them would have been for naught.*
*I said some of the Maharajs returned, not all of them,* Aia corrected as she gave off an air of smug superiority. *Besides, you are my Human. Your sister knew, almost as well as I, that the Demon Wind would not survive your might.*
*Especially as my Human was there to help you as well,* Shon said, shoving his nose past Aia. He apparently wanted to get a word in. *And Li-Choke and his Nobeasts and a whole, big glaring of other Nobeasts serve the city as well.*
Aia edged Shon aside. *Our nanna, the Kezin of the Hungrove Glaring, brought a number of Kesarins to Ashoka,* she said. *All of them can speak to your kind, and they all wanted Humans of their own.* She blinked. *It's been a very exciting time since you left.* She blinked again. *My chin itches,* she noted, her tone demanding.
Rukh laughed again, overwhelmed by everything Aia and Shon had told him.
Jessira laughed with him and took his hand. She kissed him again. “Welcome home.”
The End
Glossary
Note: Most Arisan scholars use a dating system based on the fall of the First World. Thus:
BF: Before the Fall of the First World.
AF: After the Fall of the First World.
Adamantine Cliffs: White cliffs, about two hundred feet tall, that form the southern border of Dryad Park.
Advent Trial: An annual competition held in the spring that involves all four military academies in Ashoka.
Ahura Temple, the: One of the schools of song in Ashoka. Open only to Sentyas.