The Rising

by SC Huggins

  The Matriarch paused, knowing she had to choose her next words with care. “I don’t know. But the powers of dead witches revert to the stone.”

  “Imagine just how powerful it would be,” Divina said in a hushed tone, “so Mother could have destroyed it after the last ascension,” Divina said. “Or not,” she added.

  The Matriarch gave a short nod, only to give her head a quick shake. “But why give Yas the key to the stone if it does not exist?”

  “She has never confirmed or denied it,” Divina reminded.

  "If there is a key, there should be a black stone," The Matriarch reasoned.

  "Maybe."

  “All because he wants to see how mortals will fare under Deji’s rule,” she jeered.

  Divina rose and turned to The Matriarch with her wings tipped back. “And why would a Deji decide suddenly that he wished to rule?” she asked. “But then,” Divina continued, “he only took up this course after he overhead you mention the predecessor before our predecessors.”

  The Matriarch drew herself up sharply and eyed the Utay. Anger streaking through her like slowly growing fire. A smile played around Divina’s lips, but she was not deceived.

  “And what is that supposed to mean?”

  Divina’s eyebrow went up, and the Matriarch was unable to stop her shoulders from rising defensively.

  “You are the closest to Mother for obvious reasons,” she said sternly, “next time, keep your lips sealed—”

  “Do not blame me for Yas’ foolishness!” she snapped.

  Divina remained annoyingly calm. “I will never, and I have not, but as the first Deji, you will surely be privy to some things we are not.” She smiled coldly. “No one is jealous of that. But learn to keep your mouth shut.”

  Feeling foolish, the Matriarch pressed her lips tight to stop the flow of angry words. This was a battle she would not win- especially when she knew the Utay was right. Better to leave in a dignified manner.

  “The great Mother has decided, let us experience a Deji rule Uwan.” She forced a smile. “For the next few years, no Deji will complain of boredom I am certain.”

  The beginning

  “The black stone will destroy you,” the Matriarch said.

  She cast her gaze downwards with a blink and bowed low before The Ancestral Mother. At that moment, the Matriarch wished she was anywhere else in the ancestral realm but in the ancestral holies, and worse still, bearing news such as this. It was no achievement to tell her creator the prophecy predicting her destruction. If she were still mortal, she imagined the taste in her mouth right now would be bitter. The Matriarch rose until her figure was a straight white outline before The Ancestral Mother.

  “This is the vision. As to the fulfillment I know nothing,” the great Matriarch concluded. Beside her, a large magical image of the black stone disappeared.

  The Ancestral Mother lounged on her throne, her white eyes shone with surprising brilliance as she regarded the still figure of her Deji, the Matriarch. She gave no outward reaction. And the Matriarch needed any kind of reassurance. The key to the black stone had been in Yas’ possession for some time now, and he had done nothing with it so far. At least not as far as she could see, and they’d all waited, and still waited tensely for Yas’ next move. The prophecy changed everything, however since it means Yas must be up to something bigger.

  “You did well to bring my attention to your vision,” The Ancestral Mother said as the white of her eyes glowed brightly. “In private,” she added in a quiet tone. “I can't be destroyed by my creation. You know this. I have given Yas the key to the black stone. Forget the prophecy,” she dismissed with a slight wave of her hand.

  The Matriarch frowned, her unease apparent, but nodded in resignation as she floated away. But just before the boundary limiting the innermost realm of the ancestral holies from the rest of the ancestral realm, she paused. Why did The Ancestral Mother even create the black stone and why give the key to Yas?

  For the first time in her immortal existence, she felt lost and fearful of what changes the rebellion would bring. What would happen to mortals, the Dejis and even The Ancestral Mother after the question of sovereignty was answered? One thing was sure- eternity as they knew it was forever changed.

  Could the great black stone destroy their Mother? Impossible, but nothing about the rebellion made sense or was logical anymore; if she could use the traitor’s words.

  The Matriarch hesitated, unable to curb the feeling that the universe’s future hinged on the direction their next words would take. She gave her white head a quick shake, then floated back to stand before The Ancestral Mother. “I went into a deep state of Sylla following the conclusion of the vision,” she said almost forcefully, meeting the white gaze of the Ancestral mother with an imploring one.

  The Ancestral Mother went still. “How deep was the Sylla?”

  “Absolute. No movement, no sight, no sound.” She paused. “No life,” she finished in a whisper.

  The floating figure of The Ancestral Mother went still on her legless throne. Their eyes met and held. The Matriarch studied her creator and not for the first time, she marveled at her dainty form of five feet tall. They all towered over her, having maintained their mortal height of five to six feet. But they only seemed to tower over the creator because an aura of awesome power and mystery ensured her superior position was never in doubt.

  The Matriarch waited. Every line of her features intense, she questioned her creator with her eyes. If the Dejis feared anything in their immortal existence, then it was Sylla. It was their one weakness, brought on by extreme fatigue. They rarely ever suffered from it, but when they did, it was negatively memorable. It had never occurred since her ascension in fact. In Sylla, a Deji could neither move nor see. They’d be dead for a little while.

  The Matriarch saw the icy grip of an alien emotion light up her creator’s eyes. Hope unfurled in her heart, surely Mother would act now. The Ancestral Mother looked away and then swung her gaze back to the floating khorn before her. She smiled.

  The light of hope lit up within the Matriarch. It wavered, dimmed, and shone brighter still.

  Mother’s smile widened. Her smile soon disappeared altogether as she cast the Matriarch an inscrutable look.

  The light of hope died out completely. The Matriarch staggered back a step and waited. It was unnecessary, for she knew what would soon follow.

  The Matriarch sighed in frustration. She couldn’t understand why Mother acted so blasé about the prophecy. The ancestral realm was no longer the comfortable peaceful home it once was. The Dejis now eyed each other suspiciously as they waited for Yas to use the key. And now the maddening prophecy. What did it all mean?

  She took a deep breath. “Mother, given everything that is happening, that has happened, I suggest we treat the prophecy with reverence.”

  “I know.”

  The Matriarch drew back in surprise. “You know?” she repeated askance. “You know about the prophecy or that the prophecy might come to fulfillment?” The Matriarch words were sharper than she intended.

  The Ancestral Mother studied her, then she cocked her head to the side, puzzled. “I understand your concern, but when I said I will give Yas’ temporary sovereignty without interference so all will see his rule for what it truly is,” perhaps she saw how the Matriarch’s lips drooped in disappointment, for her next words were softer, “I meant it.”

  “Where does the prophecy fit in, why does it keep recurring?” the Matriarch returned in a high-pitched voice, tinged with her desperation to get answers.

  “You should trust me; the creation cannot destroy the creator.”

  The Ancestral Mother gave a sad smile. The Matriarch saw it, but was too scared and had gone too far to care.

  “So, the black stone exists then?” The Matriarch needed affirmation.

  “Maybe.”

  “But I saw it, and you gave the key to the black stone to Yas. Why would I see it if—”

  “May
be!” This time, the reply ended on a harsh snap.

  If the vision was real - and it had to be, Yas’ plan was clear. He would not only prove his right to rule, but he would also attempt to destroy the creator and retain rulership permanently. Impossible, but she knew what she had seen.

  The Matriarch bowed her head, causing her mighty wings to tip forward behind her. “I trust you, it's just the prophecy, sylla...” she trailed off lamely.

  The Ancestral Mother nodded. “Whatever happens after today, just remember, I’m allowing every action take place without interfering. All creation must know and believe I am most fit to rule.”

  Looking thoroughly confused, the Matriarch nodded. “What if the Yasre are planning something else besides challenging your sovereignty?”

  “I will handle them; I created them,” she said dismissively.

  The Ancestral Mother inhaled sharply, then released her breath in a slow deflation of her chest. “Yasre, is that what they are calling themselves now?” she asked dryly.

  The Matriarch lowered her head. “Yasre from Yas. He’s had much to say and less to do since you gave him the key.” Despite herself, the last bit came out like an accusation.

  “I agreed to give Yas the power he needed,” she said, “I have done so, no one would say I never gave him a ‘fair chance’,” the last mimicked Yas tone perfectly. The Matriarch gave a slow nod, and floated away, leaving behind a thoughtful Ancestral Mother.

  THIS HAD SOMETHING to do with Yas descendants being wiped off in the Chaldi holocaust. The Ancestral Mother held her body still to avoid doing what would have been unthinkable a day before- destroy a Deji she had loved enough to grant immortality. Controlling the heat of her anger was proving to be even more challenging than creating Uwan and her inhabitants had been. Here was Yas, a being she had created as a mortal a nd given access to the ancestral realm as a Deji.

  If she had used the depth of her powers to foreknow them after their transition she would have seen this coming. But out of love for them she had not used her power of foreknowledge on them. An intense feeling of regret welled up from deep inside her; she tamped it down ruthlessly. It was better this way, giving her Dejis the gift of choice had made it easier to know them, their true selves, their thoughts and their intentions. For another, it made for a fascinating life. She knew for example, that Divina and the Matriarch were not completely on good terms, Ager was jealous of the Matriarch’s position and Yas. Ah! Yas, that one was always sly.

  She would allow Yas to do as he wished, then she would destroy him along with those who would rather join him than remain loyal to her. Resolved, The Ancestral Mother burned and struggled to tamp down her disappointment at Yas for his disloyalty. She couldn’t wait to repay him and his cohorts a thousand times over in their own coin. Oh! yes, he must be allowed to rule and when he was done, he’d surely suffer the consequences.

  After everything she had done for him, for them? Selecting him to live out his life in immortality, not as a mortal but a Deji, only for him to betray her so?

  And he wanted more than rulership. If not, why seek out the black stone? This rebellion... she shook her head with a grimace. That her creation would desire more than she wished to give, and even go as far as fight her for it was shocking. She ran a hand over her chest at the renewed surge of intense pain, regret, and anger, the likes of which she had never felt or ever expected to experience. Why had she believed mortals making the transition to Dejis and crossing to live immortal lives was a grand idea? And yet there were Dejis like the Matriarch, Divina, and even the newest Sypa, Wereu, who were good and loyal. Yas must be allowed to act out his evil intentions; then she could crush him and all who would destroy her if given the choice.

  Only the truly deserving would remain.

  Yas wanted to prove Dejis could be better rulers than their creator. The Matriarch’s vision showed Yas wanted to do more than prove something bigger than sovereignty. The Ancestral Mother sighed, she should ignore the vision.

  But how do you reject a vision revealed by the one greatest at it? Everyone, mortal or Deji knew the Matriarch never made mistakes. She was that powerful. The Ancestral Mother decided not to ignore the warning. There were eighteen Dejis. Add Wereu, the newest Sypa and one more, then they would be complete - a perfect twenty.

  They were family.

  They should be. She had arranged it that way. Nothing should change it.

  The rebellion changed everything.

  “IMPOSSIBLE,” DIVINA mocked.

  The Matriarch bristled but said nothing in reply. So much for the small camaraderie she had developed with the Utay. Divina had thrown the first stone, the Matriarch thought bitterly.

  A chorus of ‘impossibles’, ‘nevers’, ‘you are dreamings’, and words bordering on insult floated from the nineteen Dejis.

  The Ancestral Mother grimaced.

  The Matriarch’s heart flared with hope. Perhaps Mother would tell her to stand down, for this inquisition was pointless.

  “This is the vision as I saw it,” the Matriarch said. Her khorn figure tense where she stood before the gathered assembly to recount her vision. She had agreed at her creator’s command to relate the vision to the other Dejis, but never would she have predicted this reaction.

  Without an ounce of modesty, the Matriarch knew she was the greatest witch on Uwan and even the ancestral realm. So, when she of the Klauser family, and of Chaldi, saw her first vision of the great black stone, an object portrayed as possessing the power to destroy The Ancestral Mother days ago, she considered it a mockery. It just couldn’t be true. Such an object didn’t and shouldn’t exist. Why would the creator create something capable of bringing her to ruin, or allow its continued existence? The Matriarch laughed it off; the creator was power itself. It was not possible. But the vision kept on recurring.

  Now, she was here to convince other Dejis she had seen something she had trouble believing herself.

  The last thing she wanted was the attention. Ager would undoubtedly mock her long after this, the jealous fool. She turned to her creator for help.

  The Ancestral Mother returned her look, and reclined on her throne.

  When she opened her mouth, they fell silent.

  The Matriarch tamped down the rising bubble of hysteria. That was not respect, falling silent and bowing when it suited you was not respect. She cursed Mother’s decision to remove her power of foreknowledge. The Matriarch swallowed with difficulty, when she recalled when Mother withdrew it. What a blessing it had seemed to be!

  More than a millennium ago, it was another meeting, a different time, different circumstances but eerily similar to the one threatening to rip their family apart.

  And just like this rebellion the Matriarch had unconsciously provoked it. Divina was right, she should seal her lips.

  “Does foreknowing us cost you anything?” the Matriarch had asked.

  Mother laughed it off easily. “No, OK, maybe a little.”

  “How?” Ager had piped up.

  “Well,” The Ancestral Mother drew out, carefree and lightly, the ghost of a smile coasting her lips. That was when the Matriarch realized how much Mother loved her family. She realized then that their creator was most happy watching her creations interact.

  “I know what your next question would be,” she offered quietly.

  They fell silent and pondered this.

  Divina had shrugged it off, the Matriarch remembered. “Does it even matter? You are the creator, all powerful, all-knowing and the source of our lives—”

  “Do you control us?” Ager interrupted.

  And the turn of the conversation changed. She remembered Mother going strangely still.

  “I mean, since you know exactly what our next thoughts are, our intentions, do you sometimes,” Ager paused and rolled his lips in a familiar way, “Maybe change it?”

  “Yes,” The Ancestral Mother didn’t hesitate.

  “But how then will you know those who truly belong to you, those wh
o are loyal whether under your control or not?” the Matriarch asked.

  “My power of foreknowledge never controlled your actions as mortals,” The Ancestral Mother said. “During that time, I watched, studied, and selected you.”

  “You don’t even need to answer these questions—”

  “I know,” Mother said soothingly. “But I want to, we are family after all. This is immortality,” she explained, “I need to control everything and everyone.”

  “You granted us access out of love,” Yas shrugged as he spoke up for the first time. “I think it is only fair we prove ourselves worthy of that love by returning it.”

  And so, it began.

  “There, we have the vision with no fulfillment,” The Ancestral Mother announced, breaking her reverie.

  The assembly erupted.

  “You were dreaming.”

  “She was sleeping.”

  “She went into Sylla.”

  “She must have lost her powers during the vision.”

  “Two crazy witches have come from her lineage, including the incoming Wereu,” another added.

  The Matriarch winced but straightened her shoulders and trained her gaze straight ahead.

  The Ancestral Mother regarded her steadily.

  Yas rose, and the assembly fell silent.

  The Matriarch swallowed her snide comment at his respectful stance. Now, that she thought about it, he’d suggested Mother withdraw her power of foreknowledge. She wondered how long he’d been planning this.

  Yas waited for permission to speak. He looked subservient and respectful, but she thought his eyes shone with a taunting challenge.

  Without moving her head, she studied the others and saw the look of interest and grudging respect directed at Yas since he had done something none of them could have thought to do- challenge the creator.

  The Ancestral Mother nodded at Yas.

  “I think we can and should dismiss the prophecy,” he began with

  one solicitous eye on his creator.

  “Of course,” the Matriarch muttered snidely.