She Who Has No Name tlt-2
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He knew that he knew her, but somehow her face was both strangely unknown yet entirely familiar. She was lily white of skin, and utterly beautiful, but it was not her appearance that he remembered well-it was the spirit he could feel inside her.
She was almost a part of him, having accompanied him across time and through so many lives,yet it seemed they were seldom long together. They were always desperately searching for each other, whether they knew it or not, and only on rare occasionsdid they actually reach one another and realise what had been missing all along. In those precious moments, they had lifetimes of separation to atone for.
He looked down and found that their fingers were interlocked, but the hand that poked out from the sleeve of his ruffled shirt was as black as coal.
They were standing on a wooden platform, with ropes slung around their necks.
‘I love you,’ he told her. ‘I have always loved you.’
She smiled back at him and he knew what she would say even before she had said it. ‘I will always love you, too.’ Her voice was pure and wonderful and he longed to hear more of it, yet he knew he would have to wait.
Neither of them was afraid because,in reality, death was nothing to fear. She was his soul-mate, his eternal companion and they were destined to be together. Her name was-
Before he could recall, there was a shout from below in a strange foreign tongue; a moment of falling; and a sudden jolting stop.
Samuel gasped and awoke. He smacked his dry lips and endeavoured to look about his surroundings. It was still black, but his senses told him he was lying face up upon the floor.
‘What does it mean?’ he whispered to himself. He crept onto his hands and feet, and lapped water from the base of the wall. The stump on his arm was dry now; hard and crusted. He sat back down in the middle of the room, folded his arms and crossed his legs, before readying himself once more to dive back into his dreams.
He was alive and he was far from finished.
CHAPTER NINE
The Thing Born to the Mountain
It seemed that another dream had begun, but this time Samuel found himself looking down at a thin and dishevelled body-a rake of a thing, draped in rags, mutilated and left lying as if at the bottom of a well. Up the shaft he flew, squeezing through the cracks in the lid of that funnel and into a network of tunnels. He raced alongeach passage, unheeding of form or limitations. His thoughts dictated his direction and he moved wherever he wished. He passed several guards as they marched warily along with their torches, but they wereobliviousto his presence. He passed through them without even causing a flicker of their flames. Up he flew-up and out of the mountain and into the palace of the Desert Queen.
Along the halls he went, carefree and exuberant at his new existence. He was not concerned if this was a dream or not, for he was out of his cell and free-in all meanings of the word. Zooming along, he felt a familiar presence and he slowed his pace, passing through a doorway to find the Emperor sitting glumly on the end of his bed. The man had his hands clasped and was rolling his thumbs around each other, deep in thought. He was the Emperor in Sir Ferse, but there was someone else in there as well-many ‘someones’. Strange energies surrounded the man, layered about him like the skins of an onion-lives upon lives-and a growing power was gathering about him. Samuel was tempted to delve into the man’s mind for,even now,he could almost hear his troubled thoughts aloud, but entering into such a tumultuous place would be a treacherous task. The Emperor was no magician, but he was certainly something-something complicated and ancient. Instead, he left the man with his worries and continuedalongthe floor.
The Koian woman was there, lying on her bed,with Shara and several Paatin ladies about her. She had a wet rag across her brow and was cooling herself with a decorated fan, for the air must have been hot and stifling, although he could not feel it. A bump rose like a watermelon atop her belly,which wascovered in the thin sheets.
‘It won’t be long,’ old Shara said to another reassuringly, speaking Paatin. ‘The babe and mother seem to be doing well.’
‘Alahativa has ordered us to take every precaution. Every healer must be ready, every complication prepared against.’
‘The baby must not die,’ said a third, younger one. ‘No matter the fate of the mother, we must save the child.’
Shara looked at the expectant mother with concern. ‘I am thankful she cannot understand our words. I would not like any mother to hear such things. What is so special about this babe?’ she asked.
‘It is an impossible child, born from a witch and a wizard.’
‘Impossible!’ another woman exclaimed, recoiling. ‘Those that use magic are barren. Even if they were not incapable, no such child should be allowed. Why would Alahativa permit such a thing?’
‘That is not for us to question!’ declared the youngest,and the oldest bit her lip.
‘She is a witch?’ Shara wondered, looking to the ignorant Koian woman.
‘So we are told. The poor thing. She looks so fragile. She knows nothing of the ways of this world.’
‘Then pray she does not survive this birth. Who knows what Alahativa would do to her if she is only interested in the child? The father was thrown to his death in the catacombs, so I heard. Left to rot in the darkness with the ghosts and the ghouls.’
‘This child must be a result of our fortune. Ajaspah is here. The Star of Osirah is high. Alahativa is blessing us once again. Even the western heathens have sent their greatest magician to bear witness. I’ve seen him-a bearded one with hair like snow.’
Anthem!Samuel heard himself say, speaking from cracked lips far away in the dark, and he rushed from the room.
It was as the women had said, for he could feel the old Grand Master’s presence in the Queen’s hall and up he went through the floors without a pause. Into the Queen’s hall he flew, past the ranks of servants and armed,black-skinned desert-men, to where Alahativa and the Grand Master sat opposite each other, sipping from ceramic chalices,atthe ornate table erected upon her dais. Samuel remembered the thing well, for it was the same accursed table that contained a hidden blade; the same maniacal device that had severed his arm with one jolting slice. It astounded him that the two were locked in conversation and not fierce combat, and he could not fathom why the Grand Master would be sitting and chatting with the vile witch in such a civil manner. Wanting to sate his curiosity, Samuel hovered nearer to the pair.
‘Your plan is nearly at its end, Magician,’ Alahativa was saying. ‘The child will be born this day.’
Anthem took a sip and scratched at his beard before responding. ‘It has been a trial for everyone, but the sacrifices we have all made now seem worthwhile. Thank goodness we are nearly at an end.’
‘Do you truly think he will be the king you have been seeking?’ the beautiful Queen asked him. Her ears and arms were adorned with matching golden circlets and her hair was tied up into an intricate twist, away from her shoulders. Her long, slender neck and upright posture made her appear all the more graceful and proud.
‘I can only hope so,’ the old man responded. ‘The world is falling to ruin and I hope this child can unite not only our nations, but the world itself. Every continent has fallen into chaos and the days have fallen into darkness.’
‘Ajaspah is here. The Star of Osirah will light our way. It may spell doom for Turia, but to my people it will only bring victory.’
Samuel turned his gaze outside, for his senses told him it should be night, but the city seemed bathed in a ghostly light. In his ethereal state, he could see beyond the stones and walls of the palace, and so he looked up towards the heavens, where a great blazing comet now covered the entire sky, obscuring the stars with its brilliance.
‘I don’t believe in such superstitions,’ Anthem told the seductive witch opposite him, ‘but the star you speak of is certainly a boon to us, at this, the time of the new king’s birth. It will be a symbol of his coming. The people will rally around him. Hope will return.’
‘Ofthat I do not doubt and,in truth,I don’t care if it is a girl or boy. Turians are stubborn and prefer male rulers but,if the child is powerful, they will accept a leader of either sex.’
‘Then you are in luck. My healers have confirmed the gender, and it is a boy you will receive. But what makes you so certain this child will have the powers you seek?’
‘The stories are told in legend and fable of a magician beyond all others and a woman to match him, both unusual in many ways. Scraps of knowledge we stole from the hidden libraries of the Circle and other parts of the story have been gathered from far and wide. Everything foretold has come to pass, and I can only believe this child will see us out of these dark times. I am sure of it. Any alternative is unthinkable.’ His eyes were pale and glassy, and the old man had never looked so frail.
‘You thought the Emperor’s death would do the same, but it did not. The warring only escalated.’
‘That was before I learnedthatour world wasengaged in a mightybattle, that every continent has been beset by war and that this is beyond the petty concerns of one stubbornEmpire. I cannot blame those infernal plotters of Cintar, as I do not blame you. You only act out of your belief to protect your people, but that does not excuse the bloodshed that results. These wars will continue until civilisation is ground to dust, unless an impossible child is born with the powers to bring it to an end. That is what the culmination of these texts refers to and I have seen the evidence for myself.’
‘I’m surprised you believe anything that comes from the Circle, stolen or otherwise. Cang is a demon at heart. You know how devious he can be.’
‘True,’ the old man nodded. ‘But even he cannot have plotted so well. These stories come from all corners of the world and are timeless beyond recall, written in stone that is thousands of years old, or whispered in tales that have been known forever. That is beyond any single man to fabricate.’
‘Then remember that once the star is in decline, my war will continue, child of prophecy or not. Your stories are amusing, but I am not interested in fairy tales. I have only entertained your request to suit my own ends.’
‘I never assumed any less,’ Anthem told her.
‘Will you keep to your end of the bargain, old man?’
‘I will. Cintar will be yours. A single city is a small price to pay for what we have gained.’
She seemed pleased with his answer. ‘What will you do with your king, without a kingdom for him to command?’
‘The world will be his kingdom. You will see.’
‘If he is as great as you say, I will throw myself at his feet, for even I would not be able to resist such a slayer of kings and empires. If he is not, he will die before my armies along with the rest.’
Anthem gave her his best knowing smile. ‘So be it.’
Just then, the Paatin Queen looked troubled. She dropped her cup, smashing it on the floor and clasped her face. Anthem stood as attendants came rushing up to her side. Samuel could see strange energy boiling around her, pouring from the ether and concentrating around her. It was the same troubled power that now surrounded the Emperor.
‘What is it?’ the old man asked with concern.
‘Get away from me!’ she spat, slapping at her attendants, and they fled back to their places. The magical force then seemed to calm and the pain left her face. ‘It’s finished. Bring me my potion,’ she said, resumingher seat, while one brave girl gathered up the broken pieces of her cup. Another maid replaced the vessel, filling it with a steaming brew, which the Queen gulped at thirstily. ‘As Ajaspah nears, so do these feelings-intense pain and craving. I have visions, of other places and peoples. I feel someone else inside me, other names across the aeons. They have been burning at me so long and,at times,I do not know who I am. My people have grown worried and only the strongest potions have kept me sane these past months. Now, even those are insufficient.’
‘I don’t know what could be the cause. The Star of Osirah is nothing more than a passing celestial body. It carries no power that can affect us. Perhaps it is coincidence.’
‘So many coincidences, old man. No, and it is happening to your Emperor as well-I know it, even though he denies it. I know him, and I know his true name; it is Thann. I remember him-in different bodies, different guises. I see him under countless skins across countless Ages, but it is always him. I have kept him here all this time, my prisoner, in hope that this mystery will be resolved. Alas, it only grows deeper.’
‘Iamcertainly surprised to hear that, but I will not have time to ask him. I must admit, I am eager to pass by the Temple of Shadows and see what Cang has been doing with my magicians all this time, but the timing is unfortunate. The child must take precedence, and I will certainly not risk taking a babe into his valley.’
‘I see him across time,’ the Paatin Queen went on. ‘He knows me by another name, but for the life of me I cannot recall it. They have called me Alahativa for so long, that I have forgotten the sound of my own name. How can it be? Who could forget their own existence? All I know of my distant pasthas beentold to me by my own historians. But now, the memories come back in frightful bursts. They are dangerous and violent. I feel another woman struggling within me, but I do not want to let her have control. She grows stronger every day and I don’t know how much longer I can contain her. I think you know, old man, that I am older than most, even by your standards, and I am not scared easily. These thoughts, however, keep me terrified and I weep every day from the confusion.’
‘Then why does he not remember?’ Anthem asked innocently.
‘He does!’ she said angrily, hitting her fists upon the table. ‘But he refuses to admit it. The Emperor within him has made him stubborn and he pines for that accursed woman and child. I could never bear him a son and he has held it against me for all time and kept me suffering. Somehow, that Turian wench has born him a male when hundreds before could not. Damn her and damn him! Damn them both!’
Anthem began to look worried as Alahativa grewevermore irritable. He stood and went to the balcony,and swept open the veiled curtains, revealing the great comet in all its glory, burning over the city. The streets were full of dancing and festivity, with music and coloured lights on every corner and rooftop. ‘Come. Enjoy Ajaspah,’ he called to her. ‘Witness your people dancing in the streets. Your city is celebrating.’
The Queen seemed calmed by that. ‘I have been craving this event for a hundred years, but,now it is here, I do not have the heart to witness it. My mind is troubled.’
Anthem returned sullenly from the balcony and retook his seat. ‘Then that brings me to our final piece of business. The Argum Stone.’
She must have retrieved it from a pocket at some stage, for she opened her palm and displayed the glittering ring set upon it. ‘This? Such a droll name for such a wonderful thing. You know, it was quite difficult getting dear Samuel to part with it.’
‘I can imagine. The poor boy. Such a burden weighs heavy upon me, but,in the end, it is only one of many I must bear. Now give it me.’
‘Wouldn’t you like me to put it on, next to this one, so I can show you what it can do?’ she ask, holding it beside her finger so that the two gleaming rings were side by side.
‘Gods, no, woman!’ he said, almost leaping from his seat, but she was only teasing him.
‘Calm now, Grand Master. You are not a young man any more. Such frights may rupture your heart. I am only playing. I have no need of two such things.’ With that,she pushed it towards him. It rolled its way across the polished surface, and then fell over, spinning in tight circles before rattling to a halt in the middle of the table. ‘There. It is yours. Take it.’
The old man took a moment to sum her up; then leaned forward, reaching for the glittering ring. Within the table, a host of tightened springs and mechanisms kept the diabolical blade hidden and readied to explode fr
om its housing. Anthem reached over and put his palm upon the Argum Stone, looking the witch in the eye. It seemed he, too, suspected treachery, but as he withdrew his hand,the blade remained still and the Queen let him take the magical relic without so much as a fuss. Slowly, he sat back and dragged the ring back to his place, where he plopped it into his other hand and held it aloft. He gazed at the thing and,with his mouth agape,turned it over so that it caught the light.
‘Put it on,’ she suggested.
Anthem nodded dumbly and brought the ring down to his wrinkled old hand, with one finger extended, and readied himself to receive its power. His hands quivered with nervousness, and he licked his dry lips as he shut his eyes and prepared himself. Onto his finger he slid the thing and he waited for its effect to take hold of him.
After a moment, he opened his eyes again, bewildered.
‘Nothing!’ he declared, and pulled the ring off and scrutinised itindisbelief, even biting its edge to see if it was solid. He popped it onto another finger,and again there was no effect. ‘What is this? I thought this thing was full of power?’
‘Of course not, you old fool. There is no power within it at all. These kinds of magical relics are useless to anyone who already has attained their power. Their only effect is to remove the obstacles to allow the wearer to reach their own potential. It is a ring for beginners,that is all.’
‘I would never have believed it.’
‘For an apprentice or someone not schooled in magic, such as I, it is a blessing, but for an experienced magician such as you, this relic is as useless as spectacles for the well-sighted or a crutch for the able-bodied.’
‘But Samuel?’ the old man began.
‘Samuel was anxious and stubborn. He grew reliant on the ring and that was his downfall. Whatever was keeping him from his power was of his own making, butany magic he did wield was his.’