by Davis Ashura
“No! We can both make it.” Jessira held back. She wouldn't leave him.
Shon took the choice from her. With his teeth, he grabbed the straps to which her bow and knapsack were tied and lifted her off her feet. He carried her as if she were a kitten, all the while dodging the Queen's boulders, which She hurled like hail.
*Put me down!* Jessira screamed.
Shon did so, but only when they were an arm's length from the Wall.
Immediately, she turned to see what had become of Rukh.
“Vermin! You will not survive My righteous wrath,” the Queen vowed. Her voice was jagged like a throat full of splintered glass.
Rukh's ready response for the Sorrow Bringer's promise was a bright beam of quicksilver light that shot forth from his hands. It soared skyward, brightening the plain for yards all around. This close, Jessira saw that the light moved like water, like mirrored glass made liquid.
Suwraith screamed and briefly pulled back. “It cannot be!”
Aia, bless her, took the opportunity to pick Rukh up similarly to how Shon had Jessira. She raced for the Wall and reached it well before the Queen could recover.
Aia dropped Rukh to the ground. *I'd really like to get inside and have my chin rubbed now,* she said, sounding anxious.
*I never thought I'd hear you say that you want to be inside those walls,* Thrum chuckled.
*Then stay outside if you wish.* Aia snapped with a swish of her tail.
Lighting and thunder tore the sky, and a grating, splintered-glass scream tore the heavens. Suwraith raged. She boiled above, a mindless torrent of lashing wind and lightning. She hammered the ground like an undammed flood.
Rukh shot another beam of light at the Queen. Again, She flinched. “Let's go,” he said. “With our Blends, the Chims can't see us, and if we're lucky, the Queen won't think to point out our location.”
“And if we're really lucky, you'll lose this need to martyr yourself,” Jessira said. Her heart was slowing, but her fear for Rukh had yet to subside. He'd been caught in a bad position and had done the only thing that made sense: sacrifice himself so she and the Kesarins could get away. Jessira sent up a silent prayer to Devesh for Aia's intervention. If not for the great cat, Rukh would have died. His bright beams wouldn't have held off the Queen forever, and they would have done nothing against the rocks She had been raining down.
“Trickster! You will not escape My wrath!” Suwraith bellowed.
Rocks peppered the ground before the Oasis: small rocks, large ones, even boulders. Some of them even got through. Stones the size of a hen's egg rattled the ground near Jessira and around her feet. If any of them struck cleanly, it would hurt. Badly.
Jessira quickly conducted Jivatma and formed a Shield.
“We have to get inside!” Rukh yelled. “The postern gate should be fifty yards to the south. Blend as hard as you can and run!”
Jessira followed on his footsteps with Aia, Shon, and Thrum trailing behind her. More stones penetrated. A few clipped the Wall. Others bounced off Jessira's Shield. The Kesarins sported several nicks and slunk forward with bellies low and heads stooped down. Rukh managed a crouching run. He looked to be struggling with his breathing.
They quickly came upon the postern, almost bypassing it. With the thick growth of ivy, it was difficult to see. A low whistle caught their attention. The gate stood open, and they darted inside. As soon as they did so, the thick door was slammed shut.
“You're safe now,” said the same warrior who had offered them 'good hunting'.
After the words were spoken, the tunnel leading through the Outer Wall fell quiet, except for the hollow sound of rocks bouncing off the ground somewhere close by.
Rukh slid down the wall with a groan and sat on the ground, hunched over in pain.
Jessira tsked in frustration. “You've broken your ribs again,” she accused.
“And got a concussion to go with it.” Rukh said, managing a lopsided grin. His smile left him. “But you're safe. I'll do anything to see you safe.”
Jessira's brows knitted in bafflement. As Rukh had on several other occasions, the words he'd spoken hadn't sounded like his own or even his own voice.
Her thoughts scattered an instant later when a roar came from without, one powerful enough to be heard by all Ashoka. It was the Sorrow Bringer. “You will pay for your falsehood, false Linder Val Maharj. Next time we meet, I will shred Your soul!”
When Ajax fell, none knew what had shattered the city. And none knew what to make of the broken boulders the size of wagons that were strewn about the streets like pebbles.
~ A Concise History of Arisa by Kalthe Mint, AF 1839
Lienna bellowed in fury when She could no longer sense the Humans. A moment before, there had been two of them, a man and a woman, both of them boldly defying Her as they stood before the walls of Ashoka. And in the next, they were gone.
Who were the Humans, and where had they gone?
Lienna lit the sky with a bolt of lightning and the deafening rumble of thunder.
It was the Oasis. Her true sight was blind to anything that existed behind that most cursed of creations. She could see what occurred on the Walls and within the city itself, but of Jivatma or Talents used by the denizens of Ashoka , She had no knowledge. It was an unbearable situation.
Lienna growled in frustration. It was the sound of teeth breaking.
Always the Oasis. It interfered with Her plans, stymied Her will, blunted Her justice. If not for the Oasis, Lienna would have long since done away with the blight that was Humanity. This sight-blinding evil was Her Father's most wicked forging, and He would pay for what He had wrought.
Her mind was a haze of red. Something would die this night. Of this, She was certain. It didn't matter that She tasted the scent of Father's Jivatma laced through the bolts of Bow that had earlier slammed into Her. She would . . .
Her thoughts trailed off. She had tasted the fragrance of Father's Jivatma. It was impossible. Lienna held frozen in the sky. If ever She had doubted that Father might once again walk the hills of Arisa, those bolts of Bow She'd experienced weeks earlier and again tonight, rid Her of all uncertainty. As for the woman . . .
Lienna paused as She considered the implications of what She'd seen tonight.
Father was with a woman. In all his life, there had only been one woman for Him. He had loved no one else. With a sickening realization, Lienna pondered a terrifying notion. Was the woman Mother?
Fear gripped Her heart.
“Shake off Your cowardice before they escape Your grasp,” Mistress Arisa grated.
“All that is good in this world will escape Your grasp,” Mother commented.
Lienna gave a shiver of relief. Mother wasn't reborn. She couldn't be if She was still trapped here in Lienna's mind. Which meant Father was as well. It had all been a trick then. This Human had sought to make Her believe that Father was alive. He had sought to cause Her fear, to terrify Her.
How dare He!
“Trickster! You will not escape My wrath!” Lienna shouted. In a mindless frenzy, She gathered all the rocks down below Her, every scrap of stone within Her reach, no matter the size. She flung the rocks again and again, tossing them with the force of a whirlwind. And the Oasis redirected every one of Her throws. The boulders broke apart, the stones became pebbles, but still Lienna hurled the rocks. She threw them without direction or aim. Unknowing and uncaring, many She simply cast into the air.
Eventually, Her anger receded enough for rational thought to resume, but one last time, Lienna bellowed. Her fury flattened the grass for yards around. “You will pay for your falsehood, false Linder Val Maharj. Next time we meet, I will shred Your soul!” She knew the Human could hear Her, hiding as He was within Ashoka's Oasis.
She turned aside then, prepared to return to the city's southernmost gate where Her Chimeras were slowly whittling down a small portion of the Wall.
But something caught Her attention. There, lying on the ground, were the stones
She had thrown a few moments earlier. Many were piled up against the city's wall.
Lienna laughed in triumph as She realized what must have happened. She had breached the Oasis.
The commanders of the Fan Lor Kum met at a distance from the rest of their warriors to discuss what had just transpired. They murmured and muttered as they tried to understood the truth of what they had seen, but few could come to an agreement.
Li-Grist paid little heed to the various conversations taking place around him. His ears still rang with the last of Mother's thunder, but within his mind lingered the memory of the quicksilver light, the liquid beam shot forth from the hands of a Human. It had hurt Mother, or at least it had halted Her progress. Grist wasn't sure exactly what had happened, but of one thing he was certain: this changed everything.
“This changes nothing,” Li-Boil announced. “Not yet anyway.”
Those from Continent Catalyst shifted about with unhappy murmurs. They weren't pleased with the words of the SarpanKum. However, the Baels of the Eastern Plague appeared to have a different response. They stood with accepting postures, almost as if they had expected Boils' words.
“I know you wish to believe that a Human can truly oppose Mother,” Li-Boil began, “that there is a being on this world who can defeat Her —it's the deepest dream of all Baels—but it's too soon to make that determination. We need more information.”
While Grist could appreciate the SarpanKum's caution, he remained troubled by Boil's reasoning. In the weeks since he'd first met the Bael, Grist found himself believing ever more strongly that the SarpanKum didn't truly believe in the ideals of fraternity, at least not in the manner he should. Boil spoke the correct words, but from his mouth, they sounded tepid and weak, like the mutterings of the faithless.
“The reports of what actually occurred are still coming in,” the SarpanKi, Li-Torq, said. “We have yet to determine exactly how many Humans sallied forth. It might even have been from a hidden gate. One we never suspected might exist.” He glanced at the SarpanKum. “Should we search it out?” he asked. “It might ease our entrance into the city.”
Grist stiffened in outrage. “We don't want an easier entrance into Ashoka,” he said from behind gritted teeth as he struggled to hold on to his temper. “We are supposed to do as we always have: the least amount possible to keep Mother appeased. Actively seeking this gate is actively seeking the murder of countless numbers of our Human brothers.”
“Torq doesn't intend that we actually use the gate,” Boil said. “But what if Mother breaches the Oasis, and the Humans use this gate to try to flee? Would it not make sense for us to know where this hidden gate is located so we can shift our warriors out of the way if the Humans have to use it in order to easily escape their city if it falls?”
Grist's anger slowly ebbed, and he loosened his grip on his trident. He hadn't even realized he'd been clenching it so tightly. Boil's plan made sense, but Grist still had his misgivings. He didn't trust the SarpanKum.
“What do we do about the Human who stood against Mother?” Li-Drill, Grist's SarKi, asked.
“What of him?” Boil asked.
“The accounts may still be coming in on the numbers of Humans who attacked us, but on this matter they are clear: a Human hurt Mother. We should help him.”
“I think you exaggerate when you say he hurt Mother—” Boil began.
“He hurt Her,” said Li-Cord, one of Grist's Vorsan's. “I was there. I saw.”
Boil shrugged. “I don't know what to do,” he said. “He may have hurt Her, but then what happened? Mother vanquished him, just as She's vanquished all who oppose Her. I'm not willing to risk the future of our race on the possibility that this Human did as you claim. For all we know, he may already be dead.”
“He isn't,” Li-Drill protested. “If he were dead, then why did Mother cry out as She did? The words She said at the end—She spoke of this man, this Human. She promised to kill him the next time She met him. She wouldn't have done so unless he still lived.”
“The Human may have survived, but you all saw how he scurried to the Outer Wall to escape Mother's wrath,” Li-Torq said. “Do you truly wish to bargain the future of the Baels on this man we don't even know?”
“We do know him,” said Li-Guile, one of the Vorsans from the Eastern Plague. “Choke told us, and Mother just confirmed it. It's the name of the First Father.”
The gathering erupted in tumult.
“Silence!” Li-Boil shouted. “The First Father died two thousand years ago. He is gone. His time is past. He is not suddenly reborn in order to save us. Remember: Mother called him 'false Linder Val Maharj'. He can't be the First Father.”
“I heard the terror in Her voice,” Drill challenged. “She doesn't believe this man to be Her Father, someone two thousand years dead, but nevertheless, She is fearful of him.”
“Only because Mother's mad,” Torq said with a dismissive snort. “No matter how sane She may appear, Her insanity still lurks beneath it all.”
Boil held up his hands for silence. “All I'm saying is that we should be cautious. We shouldn't pin all our hopes on a hero to come and save us. It's a fool's wish. Instead, we should focus on what we know. There are Baels and Bovars within Ashoka. They have to be our first priority. Protecting them. Beyond that, while we will do as little as we can to further Mother's ambitions, never mistake one simple fact: out here we're on our own, as we've always been.”
“Devesh walks with us,” Grist said. “We shelter in His embrace and love, as we always have. According to our teachings, He is enough to overcome any hardship.”
“Of course,” Li-Boil said in a soothing, smooth voice. “Devesh is the first and last. His will can achieve anything.”
Grist heard the condescension in the SarpanKum's voice.
Pebbles mounded against Ashoka's wall like gathered hail. Those were the images cycling through Lienna's mind as She tried to understand how it was that Her storm of stones had penetrated Ashoka's Oasis. As She considered the matter, Her mind bent to the notion of rain and hail. Hail and rain. One a liquid, and the other a solid. Both able to pass unimpeded through Ashoka's Oasis.
How, though? That was the key.
Lienna mentally frowned. Was it something to do with speed alone? She pondered further. Perhaps so. It made sense. After all, the boulders hurled by Her children's siege engines, if launched at a low enough trajectory, were able to roll through the Oasis and batter the wall.
'Batter' was perhaps too fine a word to describe what actually occurred. The Chimeras flung their stones and some struck the wall but rarely did any visible damage. Still, as She'd once told her SarpanKum, Li-Boil, like the slow labor of water and wind, the hurled rocks would tear down Ashoka's Wall. And with Lienna's help, the work would now go quicker—many months rather than many years. But if the Anchoring Stone were damaged, such a time would be measured in days.
Lienna mentally grimaced just then. A few nights back, She'd finally heard from Her treacherous Human, Hal'El Wrestiva. He'd finally agreed to mar Ashoka's Anchoring Stone if Lienna would simply leave him in peace. He didn't want Her reaching into his dreams anymore and tormenting him.
It was an understanding Lienna had grudgingly accepted, been forced to, in fact. Time was slipping away. Her sanity was slipping away. It wouldn't last the years or even months it would take to breach Ashoka's Oasis. Even now, She could sense its dread claws reaching for Her.
But if Hal'El kept his word, then Ashoka's Oasis would fall, and it would likely do so swiftly, suddenly, and unexpectedly.
Lienna sighed, setting aside Her incipient hope. So much relied on the word of a liar. Who knew if Hal'El would actually carry out his promise?
In the meantime, She needed to learn to throw a rock in a manner that would breach Ashoka's Oasis.
Lienna put practice to Her thoughts. She launched boulders and pebbles into the air. Over and over again, She did so, studying the height from which they fell: their movement, their speed.
Eventually, She came to understand that it was all about speed. If thrown too hard, the rocks rebounded from the protection Her Father had placed around Ashoka. But if the stones were thrown just a little lower, a little slower . . .
Had Lienna still a physical form, She would have offered a shark-like grin. How had She not seen it before?
“Because You are a simpleton,” Mistress Arisa answered. “A dullard doesn't begin to describe the depths of Your idiocy.”
“Give over this plan,” Mother advised. “You have murdered far too many as it is. For what You've done, Your soul will never wash away clean.”
“Then You shouldn't care if I dirty it even further,” Lienna said in reply.
“Your soul is as bright and pure as the first snow on My highest, holiest mountain,” Mistress Arisa declared. “Though You gall Me with Your lack-wit stupidity, Your service cleanses You of all sin.”
“My work is holy,” Lienna declared to Mother. “And Your words are empty threats.”
“So be it,” Mother said. “How could Your Father and I have spawned such evil from the bosom of Our love? You were loved once,” She continued. “Now who is there to love You?”
Lienna smirked. “I have the love of all who are important: My children, the animals of Arisa, the fish in the sea,” She declared. “But what of You? Who is there to love You? Where is Father to console Your constant sorrow?”
“Where is He indeed,” was Mother's enigmatic reply.
Lienna felt a stab of concern. She had convinced Herself that the scent She sensed of Father's Jivatma had been an illusion, but what if it wasn't?
Before She could ask about it, Mother was speaking again. “How did We not see how sick was Your mind?” Mother said, sounding sad. “Had We known the extent of Your delusions, We would have helped You. So much suffering because of Our ignorance.”
“So much suffering amongst the most innocent because of Your lack of compassion,” Lienna countered. “Or do the animals not deserve protection from Your Human parasites?”