The Kingdom of Ecstasy

by S. R. Laubrea

  Dyjian doesn't have true winters. Even during the season of Withering, the mildest time of the year, there was never a need for coats because it was never truly cold. The planet only had a narrow range of temperatures. It was peculiar in its own right, because the sun was weak, and the planet shouldn't be anywhere near as hot as it was.

  Yet Rollond appreciated the lull in temperature. It eased the pain of being nearly bed-ridden. Of course, 35 days after his initial wounding, walking about was much easier. Still, he winced, propping himself up on the frame of the entrance of the netroa, the adobe and cob dwelling Sanci lived in.

  For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he almost ventured outside of Sanci's place. When he felt the shallow crunch of sand underneath the soles of his bare feet, he wanted to go reeling back into the netroa. Yet, as if sensing his trepidation, Ashenzsi reached out and hooked his arm around Rollond's, carefully pulling him forward.

  'It's not like you to be afraid,' Ashenzsi said.

  Rollond winced. He couldn't explain exactly what it was or why, just that he was aware of his mortality. For that matter, he had always been aware that he could die, yes, but it never slowed him down, or in this case, made him want to come to a screaming halt.

  Every muscle in his body tensed. He forced himself to breathe, to relax, though he couldn't put on that ironclad face. 'It's the pain,' he said, finally.

  'I could carry you,' Ashenzsi offered.

  'I don't want to be seen as…' He couldn't think of the word, whatever it was. He just knew he didn't want to utter it.

  'Weak?' Ashenzsi grinned.

  From the moment they had met, the kyusoa soon learned that the man depended heavily on his strength. Not just the power of his muscles, to break nearly everything he put his fists to, but also a stouthearted sense of self and an inviolable will.

  To him, accepting Ashenzsi's help was like conceding to the fragility of old age. It simply wasn't within Rollond to do that.

  But his brother compressed his legs and bowed forward, so that he was just a little shorter than Rollond, and swung the man's arm over his shoulders, to steady his weakened side.

  Ashenzsi almost carried Rollond. For a moment, he thought his brother was going to break down, because he sensed something like turmoil stirring within Rollond. Yet, of course, that vanished into the depths of Rollond's being by the time they reached the Ceremonial Place.

  The older kojae and tyihai had gathered there, along with the tsamiiq, their matriarch, and the schyiqar, her mate. They sat towards the fire pit, while seats were arranged on the south rim of the adobe ring for Rollond and his company.

  When he took his place with his five companions, he took a deep breath, calmed the faint tremor in his core, delved into himself and began:

  "We went East, as far as Tyluthwe."

  I remember that the machine had a steady gait, a slight rock, like the gentle sway of a boat in calm waters. It always reminded me that we were going somewhere. But me? I remember laying in that suffocating, tight cubby for most of those days we spent within Cou, ill.

  I had thought we were going to end up walking off of Phiiva into the ocean. Just when I had dragged myself out of that narrow space, Cou stopped. It took me awhile to figure that out, as I passed through the commons towards the nav. Normally the machine would sound and flash to let us know that it had ceased progressing for whatever reason. But this time, Cou didn't make a peep.

  It was because the machine had never come across a Kyisaar before — 'Kyisaar' meaning Greater Dwelling in Tswaa'ii, what we call the Communes of the Kyusoa.

  Cou wasn't the only one who didn't know what to make of it. I remember peering over Marqisian's shoulder at the display. Several kojae, the adult males, had gathered a few yards from the feet of the machine, between us and the kyisaar. There was nothing overtly baleful about their presence. In fact, they sat on their hinds with their tails crossed over the front of their legs. While we observed these few, more were joining them.

  Then Allondt's voice broke the quiet: "Somehow, they always manage to remind me of animals. I mean look at what they're doing, their posture!"

  "Should we be worried?" Ielase asked. "I mean, they can't get us while we're in Cou, right?"

  "Yes, we should, and yes, they can." In all my years dealing with these creatures, I've learned that there's a deceptive nature to them that isn't their fault: Humans believe we're the Apex Predator, no exceptions.

  "But we're inside a towering machine made of cold, hard metal," Ielase continued, "and they're armed with what? Claws? Teeth? Crude spears and all that jazz —"

  "These are creatures wielding powers of Aelyth. Sure, we're snug in a big, mean robot, but the very fabric of our immediate reality is in their hands." Right away, I could tell Ielase had no concept of what that meant. She looked at me, face scrunched up, trying to understand. I figured I'd explain it to her later.

  "Cou."

  The machine lit up. "Yes, Rollond?"

  "Back up, crouch, and drop the hatch."

  "[I] Will do as you say."

  The descent, despite it being slow, made me uneasy. The hatch hissed and slid open. Ashenzsi, Rah'ii and me were going to be fine in making first contact, but my stomach was in knots over Ielase, Allondt, and especially Marqisian.

  I wondered if the mannerisms of the Kyusoakin were worth explaining to them. Like when the male turtle moans as it breeds, was it something that needed to be known, or would it elicit a chuckle or worse: misunderstanding and offense?

  "Look, guys." I stopped at the hatch, before anyone could descend. "Things might get really awkward for you, so just hang back and let Ashenzsi, Rah'ii, and me handle this."

  There were shrugs, there were nods, but the important thing was compliance. Ashenzsi went ahead of us, with Rah'ii close behind. The two of them stopped near the fore of the gathered kojae and sat on their hinds, with their tails crossed over the front of their legs.

  It didn't seem to do much in terms of reciprocation, until one koja got up from the group and sauntered, albeit on all-fours, over to my brother. He circled around thrice, then Ashenzsi got on his palms, and the two carried on in a circle for several rounds.

  Finally, the koja sat and stretched the full glory of his cock from the rather unimpressive slit between his legs. Ashenzsi did the same.

  I'll admit, it could easily shame a man, seeing an organ just a little longer than his arm, about as thick, that was prehensile and muscular, that emerged with meticulous control. On the other hand, it was a spring-loaded spear with enough power to cleave through asphalt.

  The act of extending it towards a stranger was a silent inquiry of the other's intention and disposition. When Ashenzsi stretched his out, there was mutual understanding between him and the koja: neither one wanted to cause trouble.

  The koja glanced back at the rest of us. "Uin ahtun?" he asked in Tswaa'ii: 'And them?'

  "Scho ahtun?" 'Who, them?' Ashenzsi glanced over his shoulder. "Aihtui ohkomed ni." 'Those are with me.' He grinned.

  The kojae exchanged glances with one another. Then they gestured for us to follow.

  They brought us in to their Head. And I remember thinking, when I first saw Akyisheva, their Tsamiiq, that she had a striking resemblance to Sanci, though her skin was dark and her feathers were dominantly white-gray, like clouds.

  We quietly arranged ourselves in order of importance. I found myself at the fore of my companions. Not by choice. They just took places behind me. At once I felt a queasy burning in my stomach. I hated this situation. Here I stood before the authority of the kyisaar, and I had to represent everyone behind me.

  Not even Ashenzsi bothered to stand beside me — my brother, who thoroughly knows what I hate.

  "Ts — Tsche au." The sound of my voice made me gag. "Nai yim —"

  I don't make it past 'I am' when Akyisheva's eyes light up. "I know who you are," she said. "The southern continent is long abandoned, but the legends of our kin there are far from forgotten
."

  Not once did the gravity of my actions during those years in my past, between the ages of 26 and 28, occur to me. It never crossed my mind that I'd become a character of a Kyusoakin fable, or that the stories that grew out of what I did would cross entire oceans and spread like grass.

  Nevertheless, I got on my knees and prostrated myself before Tyluthwe's Tsamiiq. "Your words are too much." I kept my face to the dirt, until she reached down under me and lifted me up by my chin.

  "I know you are not here to do obeisance to me. Get up, and tell me why you have come."

  'Refuge' was the first thought that came to the fore of my mind. We couldn't stay cooped up in Cou, subsisting in the wilderness for very long. Ielase and Allondt were useless in that regard, and I wasn't sure about Marqisian. And concerning Rah'ii… I have my doubts.

  The only other thing besides sanctuary was what to do about the Estate and Mokallai. I know I'm not the one to end him, but I can't just leave Mokallai and all that mess open. There was no telling what kind of damages that could occur from something like that.

  Yet just the six of us weren't enough to go marching onto the Ankuseth's territory. It'd take more than an army to trounce them.

  So what have we come for? "A temporary stay." I paused, to make sure that's what I wanted to say. "And to ask you for your finest warriors."

  Akyisheva nodded slowly, as if considering the latter part of my statement. "Stay, and then we will talk." She gestured to the lot of us, for us to come with her. "Would you rather all stay together, or should you be separated?"

  "Separated." I didn't let anyone else have the chance to speak on that matter. We'd been together for long enough, I wanted to be alone, and I was certain no one wanted to be in earshot of Ielase and Rah'ii.

  After that, the days blurred together. I wasn't sure when we arrived and for how long we had stayed.

  But there was one evening, where I was loafing in the hotter part of the aadui, that is, what we'd call a communal bathing spring. The waters of the aadui were pristine, especially near where it bubbled forth from the ground. And the water at the heart of the spring began to coil up from its rolling surface; a thick spiral, as broad as the average woman's waist.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end while I watched this coil bend at its top, and it formed the upper body of a woman. As soon as the water turned into a bronze-y skin color, I knew exactly what was going on.

  Dyiij manifested out of the water, holding the appearance of an Ocean-born Kyusoa. Her toes were webbed, and her tail was long and winding, but ended with a fin like that of a thresher shark.

  Stillness swept over the aadui. Every kyusoa froze, whether with anticipation, estimable observance, or arrant curiosity I couldn't tell. But she ran her hands over the top of her head, flattening her vibrant dorsal crest. Then:

  — Rollond! She snatched me up in the great length of her tail until her body rose over my shoulders and my cheek was flat to her under-tail, somewhere near her calf. There is no other man I'd descend to see, and I'd swear it on my name: "That is the way it will be, forever!" Yet today, a pair of sovereigns have entered the scene of this world. Young princes, just like I told you.

  She unraveled me from the clutches of her tail, and with such force she tossed me some ways away into the deeper end of the aadui. I plunged into the water before I could coordinate my limbs to save grace from the fall.

  I was barely able to breathe by the time I pulled myself to the edge of the aadui. "S-sanci…?"

  — Oh yes. She grinned in such a way that it seemed malicious more than anything. But I haven't come just to congratulate you. Mokallai is amassing quite the following, an army of humans with illicit powers of Aelyth. It is something none of them have the right to possess. I have a mind to kill them all, but not just yet. Hence, I am also here to discuss matters with you.

  I must admit: sometimes the fact that one of the nine Alyi will come down just to talk to me goes swiftly and thoroughly to my head. It was never something I appreciated before, because I was far more rebellious back then, and it inflamed me to my core to think that I was being 'led'.

  Yet, all my actions have been my own. Though I'd never say it out loud, I'm sure Dyiij knows that I appreciate her guidance. Especially when I haven't a clue. "I was thinking of targeting the Ankuseth estate."

  She bobbed her head, mulling the thought over.

  — Forget the Ankuseth Estate for now. You'd need more than a hundred armies to take that on. Instead, I think you should turn your attention far-north and then deep-west.

  Before I can ask, she flicks her finger across the water, and a fine line of light splits the basin in two. At once the others who were enjoying the aadui climb any of its edges, abandoning the hot spring. The slash of light whirls, and at the eye of the vortex the water rises into a ball and separates from the rest of the spring.

  Immediately, the water forms a scaled model of Phiiva, down to every detail, and the light settled to the bottom of the basin, illuminating the water-model with striking colors.

  — Far north, and a long ways west, at the northernmost bend of Phiiva, there are two, four-thousand year old societies that have grown into one another. One is a kyisaar called Ashui-hilo, and beside it is the metropolis of Prisbeald.

  She cradles the water and pulls it near to her bosom, and the configuration of it changes. Like an automated map sensing the thoughts of its handler, it becomes the city and the kyisaar, just the way they are, grown side-by-side and melding into one another like a fat pair of concentric shapes.

  — The reason I want you to consider Prisbeald is because there are several generations of humans who have become accustomed to the presence, nature, and to an extent, mannerisms of the kyusoakin. In order to succeed, you will need human supporters. Lots of them. Prisbeald will not be all of them, but it is a definite beginning.

  "Then where are the others coming from?"

  — All over this world.

  "Alright. So what do I, or we, need to do there?"

  — I'll go ahead of you and open up the positions. You will need a Radical left-wing politician, a lawyer, a small-time reporter, a Schyiqar, and a love-sick inter-species couple. Also, how do you feel about controversy?

  "It makes me horny."

  — Then you best go find Sanci in Ma'oin.

  "You know…" I couldn't restrain a grimace at the thought of her. I was at the very least expecting a female who was loyal to me, and already she had tried to kill me, shut me out, and left me. "Frankly, I'm not sure I want to go back to her."

  — Ah, Rollond. One day you will understand, when you're over sixteen thousand years old, and no one has roused that part of you in about as long. How, when the hormones begin coursing through your aged veins, and all the excitement of new offspring quakes through every crevice of your being, you too will be confused and frightened out of your natural wits.

  — But she has, to her credit, consented and borne boys to you. Give her a second chance.

  I glared at her. Dyiij's eyes were unlike any I've seen in my entire life. Sure, they were hollow, dark pits comparable to the absolute black of a bottomless ocean. Or the iridescent, silvery bluish-black of space. In those seemingly empty sockets I swear I could see as far as the very fringes of our celestial domain.

  I wonder, really, if every Alyi has eyes like that. If they do, could I see the breadth and depth of the other realms?

  For that matter, I caught myself staring. The longer I looked, the more I noticed this… pulling sensation. As though the force of my aelyth — my spirit, my life — was gradually being taken from me, and put out there.

  Honestly, I wasn't afraid. Not in the least bit, although I understood what this meant.

  See, the kind of Aelyth that fills flesh-bound, living creatures is not the same as the Aelyth that is Dyiij, or any other Aelythian Being for that matter. We Flesh Beings need our bodies, and as soon as our spirit departs, we perish, in every sense of the word.

  A
nd I was being pulled —

  Until she plopped the palm of her hand on the peak of my head, and turned me until I couldn't look any longer.

  All at once it was like I had just taken a free fall off the tallest mountain on Dyjian and crash-landed back into myself. I sat there trembling, as if I'd been hit by a 500,000 volt stun baton.

  — One more thing, she chimes, as if nothing happened. Get rid of that machine.

  "Cou?"

  She nods.

  I didn't stop to ask why. By now I know: there is always a very good reason behind Dyiij's words, and especially her actions. Whatever that reason happened to be, I was more than content to tell Ielase that we'd be leaving the Crawler behind.

  "That is my portion of what happened prior to the one night," Rollond said. He cast his glance left, then right, to the companions with him.

  A brief pause passed between them. Then Ielase continued: "When Rollond brought me the news that we were leaving our machine behind, I didn't understand why." She touched her first finger to her chin.

  "It never crossed my mind that we were being watched. I've had Cou since I was a child, and I've always trusted…" She wanted to say 'him'. For the longest time she had thought of Cou as though it were one of her equals: a fellow human. "I've always trusted it."

  She grimaced, looking at the adobe floor between her feet and the audience just a ways ahead of her. "In fact, when he told me I wanted to tell him off. But I didn't know then that Cou was sending data back to my Father's estate."

  There was another pause, and then Allondt picked up: "Not only that, but we didn't have the means to dispose of the machine."

  Normally, a Crawler was broken down into its basic components: scrap metal, wires, a strange goop that had a striking resemblance to mercury. Only then was it thrown into a furnace to be recycled into new parts for other machines.

  "So we wound up with it for a good while as we sorted out just what to do with it. And I think…" he slowed to sift through his memories. "I think that's when all the trouble started." He glanced at Ashenzsi, as if to imply that the kyusoa had something to do with it.

  But Ashenzsi remained in his cross-legged position, spine straightened, the back of his palms in his lap. His fingers were laced in such a way that they curled upward between his hands. When he opened his eyes, there was this look on his face. A most familiar expression: distant, untouchable, unsearchably deep, like his brother.

  Then Ashenzsi began:

  "The truth is, when I say that the specific day was no different than any other, we really didn't know what was going on."

  I will say that compared to the Uunani, we Kyusoakin are a non-linear conundrum: we have powers, yet we are 'primitive'; we are fierce predators, yet we are 'docile'; we are mindful, but even we can be 'caught off-guard'.

  It was Chovas, the 15th day in the month named Melstaafh. Disharmonious chattering resounded from the canopies. I had perched there to learn the reason why, since it seemed too trivial: their bickering over air and light. As soon as I breached the tops of the trees, I came to understand that this matter was far from mundane.

  The light twisted and writhed like a cluster of mating serpents, and the air didn't flow freely.

  It seemed that there was some things standing nearby. But it was near impossible to tell for certain. Whose eyes were keen enough to tell the difference, who were able to distinguish the wispy outlines, proved to be of little benefit because no natural kyusoa readily grasps the designs of the Uunani.

  While they were reaching a consensus, I abandoned my perch. My belly tumbled from an anxiousness that I still find difficult to describe. My first instinct was to reach out to my brother, but before I could drag the thoughts from the void of my mind, I found him.

  He was dark within, and cold. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, for the actual place where the inclinations of his mind reside was like a fortress guarded by fiendish beasts in the deepest part of the oceans.

  I could never understand the darkness in him. Why it was there, what it meant, or if it was a byproduct of some kind of insecurity. Regardless, as I approached him in that unique void we share, I sensed that he was disturbed. 'Is it Sanci?'

  There was nothing but silence. He withdrew, put up that impenetrable barrier, and started to pretend that he was alright. 'No, why?'

  'I couldn't help but notice that you were —'

  'I'm fine.'

  Then why was he shutting me out? 'You're always fine…'

  'Who died and made you judge?'

  'Rollond, I love you,' I say it hoping that it will soften him. 'You know that I'd follow you to the grave if you must go there. So why are you hiding from me?'

  He hesitates to answer, as if assessing himself before deciding if the words should surface.

  But then, nothing.

  There's this after-effect, a kind of sting, or maybe it's better to liken it to an aftertaste: this bitterness. That ever since Sanci stepped into his life, he's been short and only getting shorter with me.

  I don't know if he senses it, and as far as that goes, I don't want him to. I take a mental step back, and regain why I approached him to begin with:

  'I wanted to bring this to your attention.' Images from early this morning raced from my subconscious mind: the writhing light and the sensation of the stagnating air. My brain made it seem as though I remembered him being there, as if he was right next to me, and we saw the same things.

  At this point, having given him my memory, we did see and experience the same things. I felt urgency flash along his stomach, just as it had twisted mine.

  'Go get Akyisheva. Tell her that unless we act now, she can expect Tyluthwe to be razed by tonight.'

  The question then becomes: how do I convince a Tsamiiq of an imminent danger that no one can see?

  In a twisted way, I reveled in the fact that I didn't have to.

  The cloaked legs of several crawlers straddled the aadui. The wispy outlines of the machine's noodle-like arms distorted any and everything behind. They snaked through the air, meticulous, silent, until one of them coiled around a tyiha and jerked her from the water. It was then that two of them became visible, the legs of their reflective bodies darkened by the surrounding wood. She was snatched up in their arms, and they pulled her flesh taut — until she was pulled in two.

  A third crawler manifested, then a fourth, and so on until the whole kyisaar was surrounded. Crawlers were everywhere, wrenching up and pulling apart whomever they could get their liquid arms around.

  "It was our failure to realize and prepare for what was going to happen that lead to the destruction of Tyluthwe," Ashenzsi said.

  As soon as he finished, Marqisian followed:

  "There was more than machines. I remember there being men and women there, like foot-sloggers in war. Except that they were howling at the top of their lungs, a sing-song chant — something about the 'Sure Execution of Destiny'.

  "It wasn't all that impressive, not really. Not until they started hurling bright wads of aelyth at everyone. That's when I unleashed the power of my thyrafel. And to… maybe the surprise of us all, it worked exceptionally well."

  "Yes, it did," Rollond agreed. He breathed deeply, because the gazes of his companions were palpable once they settled back on him. As if he was the only one who experienced the entirety of what happened:

  In the ensuing pandemonium, I was certain that no one was going to make it. The wailing cries of the babes, the gojis and the nijuans, were more excruciating than the shrill, disharmonious song of the prophesiers.

  Amid the confusion I tried to find Akyisheva, but couldn't. In a disorganized mass of kyusoakin bodies, it was difficult to distinguish who was who. Only, at the heart of the kyisaar, I nearly bumped face-first into a familiar, sick man.

  Every time I ran into Fylus, he only seemed to get sicker and sicker. It wasn't natural for humans to get ill, at least in all my years alive, I've never caught anything. But there he stood, his hand wadded into a fist
over his mouth. At first it seemed that he was coughing from smoke, as the crawlers nearly turned the center of the kyisaar into a furnace.

  Then I realized: the man was smirking — smugly grinning — as he coughed up crimson blood.

  His jaundiced-and-pink gaze made my skin crawl the moment he faced me. My instincts were to flee, because I didn't want to get whatever he had. I didn't want it, not at all.

  "Is that fear?" he asked, slowly dragging himself towards me, like a predator judging its next kill. "Rollond, don't you trust in your strength? What threat does some feeble man like me have against you?"

  "Don't come near me!"

  "Oh, but how can I hear you over all this commotion? I wonder, have you thought about it yet, about how all this could have been avoided?"

  To be honest, no.

  "You see, Mokallai is waiting. Though he's gotten a body, his eyes are set on something — someone — far greater than what he has. If you would only listen to him, this all could end much, much sooner. Or rather, it should've ended at the estate. But, you and your delusions of 'choice'…"

  "Shut up!"

  "It's like you refuse to see, REFUSE TO ACCEPT, that all of this is on a grand, cosmic track! These happenings are things YOU can't stop! One way or another, you'll have to come to terms with it: WHO are you, that YOU get to decide the FATE of the world!? Oh but that's right! You're nobody, just another pawn in the hands of a Spirit!

  "But you see, Rollond, unlike you, I've come to accept what I am. And I'd much rather be in the hands of Destiny, than aloof with that DAMNABLE SHE-ALYI —"

  "I said shut your wretched face!" My first reaction was to put my fist through his teeth. Yet I'd forgotten, when he deftly halted my assault, that those thin, frail arms weren't all they seemed to be.

  Within mere seconds he brought me to my knees, bending my fist back until it felt like he was going to break my hand clean off my arm. I clenched his wrist, desperate to stop him, to no avail. Somehow, by some inexplicable means, he was stronger and faster than me.

  I'd never forget the gleam in his disgusting eyes, when the gross yellowed-white drained to an obsidian black, and those pale-pink irises became like windswept splashes of watercolor.

  Just as the Iisae within Fylus was about to surface, a narrow, calm and silent spear of energy pierced through his chest, at the center of his left heart. It was the shot from Marqisian's thyrafel, something I found myself thankful for. In an instant he released me, and the most inhuman cry tore forth from him.

  He should've died right then and there. But the spirit of the Iisae that dwelt within Fylus ripped out of him with massive torrents of fire-like aelyth. That thankfulness I had felt swiftly gave way to dread.

  "Before I could react, the Aelythian One pierced my side with the power of his finger," Rollond said. He lifted the hem of his shirt to reveal the wound. It was a line now, and the blackened swelling had subsided, but the length of the line alone suggested that it was a hole big enough for a woman to stick her hand in. "After that, I don't remember anything. I was told we barely subdued the Aelythian One with Ashenzsi's help."

  "Yes, also at the expense of many kyusoas," Ashenzsi added. He stopped to decide whether or not he wanted to get into the details of that matter.

  Aelyth is power, Aelyth is life. To think of the the Aelythian Ones as mortal is something that eludes the minds of nearly all Flesh Beings. How can something with the ability to alter entire worlds, to turn whole realities into nothing be, in fact, subject to Death?

  That is why Mokallai and his divergent Iisae dwell within us Physical creatures. Because to stand on their own, separate from their host, is to drain their Aelyth — to forfeit their life by the sheer passage of time.

  Knowing this, I hurtled for the gut of the Aelythian Beast. My own aelyth tore forth from me, massed in the tips of my talons that rent into the incorporeal body. No one — NO ONE — harms Rollond without consequence. That was the sole thought that crossed my mind with each gash into the Iisae.

  Then, blinded by my sore fury, the Iisae's power flashed before my face. I remember the sudden burst of pain at my back and side, and seeing the world upside down. The beast hurled me into the trees.

  What little aelyth I possessed wasn't enough to subdue the Iisae. Helplessness nearly consumed me, while I watched, crawling to my palms, and the Iisae towered over my brother. Its huge hooves rocked the ground. It spread its smokey wings, unveiling the shaggy, dim light of its core; and like a man revealing his weapon from within the folds of his cloak, it produced a spear — a molten rod of erinite-colored aelyth formed like lightning.

  ? Now is the triumph of my Lord, Mokallai, the Iisae bellowed. Die.

  There's a sensation that belongs to an Orisoa. I can only liken it to the rush of wind, or the flow of water, a kind of motion over the skin when the body becomes hot as if consumed by fire and the flesh shifts like melting resin. That sensation is the flow of aelyth that results in physical change.

  In the time it takes for the Iisae to draw his arm back for the kill, I feel the differences of myself: six eyes, two mouthes, eight limbs, great wings — three pairs — and a winding, lengthsome body.

  Just as the Iisae thrusts, I snatch the end of its spear and rip the shaft from his grip. In that same motion I raked my talons through his face, while with my mid-set of palms, I gripped his shoulders and thrust him back and slammed him into the ash and dirt.

  The whole Kyisaar around us was a roaring inferno. I couldn't care about the suffering of my people. All six of my eyes were fixed on my mortal enemy, as I spewed my power from my bottom mouth, searing through the Iisae's core.

  The ethereal beast shrieked.

  I didn't stop.

  The beast kicked and thrashed, flailing its arms at me.

  I crushed my hands around its neck, and when its core was no more, the Iisae burst.

  Aelyth erupted while the Iisae's body violently dissipated, torrents upon torrents of power turned volatile. At once the force known to sustain life became a writhing, drunken twister of destruction. Chaotic lights and howling winds, vehemently ripping the sky and the land to pieces.

  "We narrowly escaped with our lives," Ashenzsi said. "But the man from whom the Iisae sprouted is dead. So is the Iisae."

  Silence swept through the lot of them. The sun had gone down and the cool breeze of night had come.

  "I think that's enough for one evening," Rollond said. He winced, getting to his feet. Ashenzsi reached out to grab him. Rollond shoved Ashenzsi's arm away. 'Let me do this.'

  There was determination in his stride, as he worked his way back to Sanci's netroa. She had already returned for the sake of the boys, to put them to bed. By the way she looked at him, Rollond could tell there was something she wanted to discuss:

  "You are sleeping alone tonight?" she asked.

  "I think it'd be better if I did."

  "Nai'ii," she said. She grinned, taking him by his wrists and pulling him with her towards her room. "The ysi is big enough. Besides, I haven't been a very good mate to you, and I want to make up for what I did…"

  "Sanci, you owe me nothing." He was quick to say it. "I don't want you to feel like there is some kind of obligation between you and me."

  "Will you let me be good to you?"

  He gave her a hesitant glance.

  "It's just sleep, I promise." She gave him a gentle tug, and he went along with her.

  It was, perhaps, some of the better rest he'd experienced in a long time. Though he lay awake staring at the ceiling, half drowned in thought, half wishing he could sleep. That is, until the softness of sobs along with the race of tiny feet caught his attention.

  Lucein, the honey-haired child, rubbed his eyes as he ran into his mother's room. He was hiccuping as he cried, and Rollond could tell the boy was terrorized by some infernal machination of his mind.

  He stopped when he saw Rollond occupying the space beside his mother. "Mmmm…!" he whined, unable to choke out 'Mama' for the life of
him.

  Rollond turned on his side and plucked the small boy up from the floor. He rolled onto his back and tucked Lucein between his side and arm.

  The boy stared at him, eyes pink and puffy, until his father laid a gentle, reassuring kiss on his forehead. "Nothing's going to happen to you, boy. I'll make sure of that."

  Soon enough the boy's eyes grew heavy, and Lucein resigned himself to sleep.

  Roughly a week later, the netroa was almost empty. Lucein peered around the corner at his mother. She seemed to be discussing something with Rollond, who leaned against the counter, one leg in front of the other.

  His pointed little ears picked up something about Prisbeald. Right away he assumed it meant another place, as deduced by how his mother was gathering things and sorting them into pouches to take with her.

  But why?

  He put his hands on his head and stepped out from the kitchen archway. "Mama," he said, his voice barely able to penetrate the casual talk between her and Rollond.

  Yet Sanci was keen to Lucein's sound. At once she pressed her finger to Rollond's lips while he was in mid-sentence and hushed him.

  "Tsche, my heart?" she said, kneeling so that she was more to his level.

  He hugged her thigh, and glanced up at Rollond with curious, confused and suspicious eyes. "Why are you packing so many things away? Are you leaving us?"

  "Nai'ii, not at all!" She picked him up and secured him to her side with an arm at his back, and his bottom seated in her hand. "We are going with him, you, me and Gnyovante."

  It seemed so strange to him, that this upright one — this man — arrived and without warning the security of everything he knew was turned upside down. Even his mother seemed to cave in to this one, and it made his head hurt to try to figure out why.

  He looked Rollond in the eye. "Are you always going to be with us?" There was a tone of hope in his voice, as though he didn't want to lose Rollond because of the comfort he received when his nightmares hunted him.

  And, although a year old, he could tell Rollond picked up on it. Because the man lowered his gaze and smiled. Not only that, but there was a slight redness to his cheeks. That redness had faded when he looked back up, but the grin remained. "You can expect me to be here," he said.

  With that, the boy approved. Especially because it seemed agreeable to both of them, him and his mother.

  Just a couple days later, the entire Commune was prepared to split. The decisions were made as to who would stay and who would leave.

  There were some 38 thousand kyusoakin in Ma'oin when Rollond arrived, and 26 thousand of them went with him when he departed. Travel at a Kyusoa's pace was not as fast or convenient as that of a Crawler. Yet, fresh air was an invaluable resource, as were the small voices that accompanied the lot of them.

  26 thousand, including mothers and their children; hunters and their cliques; dancers and musicians; artisans and the keepers of culture; and Rollond's own boys.

  26 thousand destined for Ashui-hilo and Prisbeald.

  Act 2:

  Between Generations

  Xei-kind.

  Chovas, the 3rd day in the month of Nesvyn;

  What began with a prudent phone call;

  Spring of the 697th year of the Second Epoch of Dyjian.