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Sword of the Gods: The Chosen One

Page 15

by Anna Erishkigal

February - 3,390 BC

  Earth: Crash site

  Ninsianna

  Such a pleasant dream, being carried back to the place She-who-is had shown her during her vision; that lofty perch where she could look down upon the stars and watch them sing as though they were overjoyed to be reunited. It felt as though she were floating in a river, the warm water carrying her weight as the sun streamed down upon her face, drifting wherever the goddess willed her to go. Oh, how she wished she could stay in this current forever! The goddess directed her back towards her body.

  "Mother, please let me stay?"

  She-who-is whispered a promise. As soon as she'd completed her great task, the man SHE had sent to help her people would carry her out to see the stars.

  "No! Máthair!"

  She awoke to the sound of a man's voice crying out in terror.

  "Ná gortaítear sí! Le do thoil!"

  Her heart raced as the unfamiliar soft bed and strange, lifeless scent gave her a moment of panic. Memory of the last two days came filtering back to calm her. Mikhail. Sky canoe. Sleeping chamber. The magic lantern must have burned out.

  "Mhamó! Cén fáth nach léi bogadh? Cá bhfuil Gabriel?"

  Mikhail flailed at the phantasm in his dream, whimpering as he struck at the air as though he was just a boy. It was completely dark within the chamber, but thanks to the faint blue outline of his spirit light which she was sometimes privileged to see, she could see his outline just as clearly as though the lantern had not run out of tallow. Moving to Mikhail's side of the chamber, she felt for a place to sit without crushing his wing.

  "Máthair?" Mikhail called plantitively into the darkness. 'Máthair, múscail. Ní féidir liom a bhraitheann tú níos mó.'

  She did not understand the words, but whatever evil hunted him in his dreams, it pressed against his spirit-light, keeping him trapped within its ferocious grip.

  "Mikhail, wake up," she shook his shoulder. "An evil spirit has come to give you a nightmare."

  Mikhail whimpered, not the brave winged man who had rescued her from Jamin, but a frightened little boy. Something in his voice caused her to choke up; horror and grief, disembodied emotions. Banishing nightmares was the province of the shaman, a type of magic she'd seen her father perform for those ridden with a fever. Caressing his cheek, she began to sing the ancient song.

  "Go away spirit," she sang, "go away spirit and come back no more. Go away spirit. Go back where you came and torment this man no more."

  Closing her eyes to enter the dream-state, she coaxed her mind to slip into his dream. The images she could receive this way was not the clarity she'd experienced when She-who-is had sent her the vision, for her father had refused to teach her to discipline her mind to see, but her recent adventure with the sacred beverage had allowed her to peek into forbidden realms. His mind was closed to her as though somebody had sealed it shut, but she found a crack where she could peek at what was happening inside.

  "Máthair! Máthair! Tá siad mharaigh tú!"

  Terror! Blood splashed upon her cheek. Crushing darkness and the scent of burning flesh! Ninsianna cried out in horror, unable to put herself into his dream. All around her, she could feel a darkness so powerful it felt as though it would crush the universe within its maw. No! She could not do this! Not even for She-who-is!!!

  'Ninsianna … please... Don't be afraid of the dark.'

  Ninsianna trembled. She didn't want to touch this evil. She didn't want to see the evil which pursued the boy she'd caught a glimpse of in his dream!

  'This memory causes him great pain. He won't allow me to erase it as he feels it is part of who he is, but he placed his fate into your hands when you saved his life. Perhaps he will allow -you- to alleviate his suffering?'

  Ninsianna felt the thread of She-who-is' mind grow stronger, whispering what she must do. The light throb of his temple pulsated against her fingers as she moved her lips with exhortations to trust her. He thought she was a spirit come to guide him into the dreamtime and was not yet convinced his continued existence was anything but a dream. Invoking the goddess for protection, she slipped into his nightmare.

  Inside, a boy filled with a dark force was kept at bay by a slender eggshell of blue light. A howling, black emptiness spilled forth from his heart like blood, causing her to shudder as a terrible hunger clutched at her and threatened to annihilate her very existence. She-who-is instructed her how to wipe the accursed child from Mikhail's memory so he would be plagued with nightmares nevermore.

  Ninsianna then placed her hand over his chest and sang songs of happy times to come with her and her people; songs of belonging, songs of never being alone. His hand moved up to cover hers, clutching her hand to the wound above his heart.

  "Ní hamháin," he whispered. Not alone. She could sense he wanted this more than anything in the world. The child trying to force his way through the block She-who-is had put on his memories faded and receded behind that cold, blue eggshell of light she sensed protected him from the evil child.

  Mikhail's breathing deepened into the rhythm of a restful sleep. Once she'd reassured herself the spell would hold, she kissed his cheek and went back to her own side of the chamber.

  Exceptionally proud of herself for exorcising her very first demon, Ninsianna fell back asleep.

  Chapter 12

 

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