Tablet VIIIShe slumps down in the highest branches of a looming cedar, letting herself become part of the frosty scenery in the mountains of Lebanon.
It comforts her to be in high places, where she had spent the happiest times in her life, before everything went wrong. Here among the trees, snow and cold, she could heal; it was different from the dusty heat she was used to, but this suits her perfectly. The higher she was, the further away she was from causing harm to others.
Pain exhausts her already strained mind; it pulls at her battered reserves, demanding more from a consciousness split within itself. Already she finds it difficult to focus on what is before her; images from other places, other people, haunt her. Oft times she finds herself speaking aloud in a tongue she does not remember learning, or performing little gestures she doesn't recognize, yet finds oddly familiar at the same time. It chills her -- she is no longer sure what is
her, or if it is all merely whispers of a dream, dreams of others.
Desperate, she clings to the rough bark, seeking the gloomy solidity it presents. Her prodigious strength, a result of her change, causes her to tear a wound in the old tree. It reminds her of how her hands wreak only destruction, and a fresh wave of despair washes over her -- along with the heady scent of balsam.
Surprised, she inhales, and finds her nasal passages clearing, bringing to her a rare calm that was hardly ever present in recent times. The sticky sap oozes like thick blood out of the living tree, and she leans against the solid trunk. She hears the heartbeat of the ancient tree, senses the roots reaching deep below the snow-covered ground. This tree has been alive for a long long time, as humans know it, had they been capable of scaling this high without aid.
There was an absolute serenity to it. The tree did not consider beginning or end, it merely
is, and will be. Closing her eyes, she remembers her Lord's words in one of his many lessons.
"Not everyone is capable of understanding eternity without actually living it. Even though I have endless time before me, there are times when even I do not understand what it truly means. I can only look to the present, instead of fearing the future."
"But what of the future? Does it not concern you what it will bring?"
"Ah, that is true. But Ayesha, today's future is merely tomorrow's present. We are all but moments in this great river of time, engaged in a continual present..."
"I do not understand."
"Perhaps you will, in time."Time, such an elusive concept. Here, amidst the timeless trees, Aisha (lovingly dubbed Ayesha by her Lord) could briefly glimpse eternity as it applied to beings like her.
A ripple in her second sight, and she was moving before she even stops to think. A blast of heat radiates both reality and unreality, a white hot flash that momentarily blinds her. But she has other senses at her disposal, and hisses in warning as she lands in a crouch on an opposing branch.
The cedar burns, and her heart howls at its injury. Another bolt splits the air towards her; she feels the air itself tearing in her second sight, and moves away without trouble. It strikes the heavy bark of the tree behind her, leaving a scorch mark.
They move like ghosts amidst the evergreens, the hunt following a familiar rhythm, like a dance. Aisha recognizes her attacker without seeing her; it wasn't the first time the upstart had come after her. Aside from showing a prodigious elemental ability, the rogue displayed a great deal of ingenuity and physical prowess as well.
Though the first time they clashed head-on, Aisha's unnatural strength had shattered the bronze sword and broken the wielder's wrist as well. Henceforth, their battles had tended to be conducted at range, usually when she least expected it.
She learns, however. The continual, intermittent pursuit forced her to hone her second sight, opening a literal whole new world to her senses. It was a dazzling, confusing whirl of color and impression. Her first tentative explorations of it gave her perpetual headaches, though she was growing accustomed to the kaleidoscopic nature of the Sight.
Aisha had known that she was being watched for a while, but showed no outward sign of noticing. Her dark shadow was not yet capable of killing her, though the girl had incredible potential. Aisha had no interest in eliminating night-walkers, however. She focused her wrath on the humans, the hunters. In truth, she even held some small sympathy for the children of the night, cursed never to walk in the day, and subject to similar torments as herself.
As if in reminder, a shudder of agony wracks her entire body, stopping her in her tracks. She hisses as a ball of fire grazes her shoulder, the burns healing in moments in a rippling move. Her fangs out, she pants heavily. Her last drink had been almost a week ago; she was definitely pushing her own limits.
The mindscape surrounding her holds a tinge of doubt, and the attacks pause. Without thought, Aisha suddenly accelerates, leaving a literal afterimage of herself where she was before she became completely untrackable by most eyes.
She collides with a surprised Raven, the taller girl knocked to the ground by the petite but insanely strong Aisha. Red eyes stare into dark ones, and Raven chokes as her captor tightens her grip. Yet it does not deter her from retaliating; one hand closes around the death grip, and lines of flame race up Aisha's arm in arcane patterns.
Raven rolls free, massaging her badly bruised neck as her quarry backs off. The flames dance as if alive, powered by the arcane symbols seared onto the skin. It burned, and would continue to burn, until there was nothing else left.
The pain is intense, doubly so for one who regenerates as well as Aisha does. The wounds could not close with the lasting flames, but her healing keeps it from eating her arm to bone and less. Tears spring from her eyes, even as she clutches the flaming limb.
It made for a peculiar scene at midnight. The forest was lit by the unnatural flames, and the two creatures, not so dissimilar from each other, faced off silently. Aisha does not scream, which impresses Raven; the soundless agony was fascinating in itself.
The silence ends as abruptly as it begins. Aisha raises her burning arm, sending shadows careening at wild angles. Raven takes a step back, suddenly cautious.
"Urgula. The Lion." A voice that was quite unlike Aisha's normal voice stated. It was her voice, no doubt, but it was as if someone else was speaking through her.
Raven is surprised once more. Only the most learned of scholars knew of the relation between the arcane lines in the sky and the forces running through the world. She had adapted the patterns to her runecraft, to amplify the elements. The Lion was the Sun, and would burn till the end of days.
"The Great One will devour." Again, that mechanical tone. There was a glint, almost a spark, in those red eyes. Raven's eyes narrowed.
Surely not...The dagger flashed gold in the flames, cutting swiftly and surely into the patterns drawn on the arm. Aisha did not even wince at the fresh wounds -- she was in enough pain that a little more matttered little.
Raven gaped. It was impossible, but there it was. Someone who knew the stars, knew about the magic of the land. Summer had had her own notions of magic, influenced by the culture of her native land. Her own grasp of the theory was fundamentally different, even radical for the time, and to have it countered just like that...
The lines of the Lion give way to the Water Bearer. Aisha collapses to her knees, still clutching the bronze dagger. Her arm sizzles audibly as it makes contact with the snow.
Logic suggests that Raven should flee, but she remains rooted, trying to comprehend the turn of events. Aisha looks up from her inflamed arm -- it would take a while to heal, after all it has been through. The swirling confusion surrounding Raven was easily readable, and when Aisha spoke, it was quiet, assuring.
"Ea, son of Enki, is my Master. It is but a small thing for the Water Bearer himself to quench the Lion's flame."
Raven understands in a moment, and she looks on the crouched figure with awe. Her attempts to kill the woman were no more than a test of her own ability...as well as her quarry's. There was no real grudge, at least not something to be held for a long time. Drawn by some unseen force, she kneels by Aisha, who draws away visibly, suspicious.
"You are...different." Raven tries to give voice to the nagging sense that had been dogging her even as she had pursued Aisha over the months.
"You are gifted." Aisha counters, already light on her feet and ready to flee if necessary.
"I know." There is no hint of pride or vanity in the statement, merely an acknowledgement of fact. Raven knew she was gifted, but she had worked hard for that 'gift'. No more, no less. This certainty raises her a few notches in Aisha's estimation, though she said nothing.
Aisha hisses again, her fangs extending in her distress. Her body feels cold, and her vision grows spotty. Her hands punch through the frozen ground, clenching in fury as she fought for control of her body.
A gentle touch almost makes her snap, but the firm grasp on her shoulder held no ill intent that she could read. Worry pulses from the dark blip on her Sight, but she remains unmoved...until she smells blood on the wind.
A bleeding wrist is before her, she latches on like a starved beast. The rush of flavor and memory is instantaneous; she sees the frozen tundra that raised the Raven before she was plucked and transported to the hot lands.
She does not take much; just that little taste has given her more than she can imagine. Her eyes fade back to a deep brown, soft and wondering. Raven grimaces, moving to withdraw her hand, but Aisha stops her.
"Let me." Her lips were incomparably soft on the torn skin, and Raven shudders. The skin mends with scarcely any effort, and both withdraw, quietened by the strange intimacy they just shared.
Aisha stands. She is still in pain, and still weak. She needed to feed. She turns away, and Raven suddenly speaks up.
"I'm still going to kill you, you know."
Aisha smiles.
"Good."
No more words were exchanged, and Raven watches her quarry disappear down the mountain, contemplative.
Off in the distance, Summer watches, her face twisting into an unflattering mask. Raven was
hers, not someone else's. She would not share her fledgling with anyone, much less someone like
that.
There are consequences for our actions. Some are just delayed.
In the end, we are the authors of our own fate.
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Notes:
1) Aisha/Ayesha - Aisha means "alive and well", and Ayesha means "small one". Pronunciation is quite close, and yes, this is Ai's original name as a human.
2) Urgula - The Babylonian name for the Leo constellation, hence "the Lion".
3) "The Great One", Water Bearer - The original Babylonian word is
gula, which translates to "great one". Both refer to Aquarius, the Water Bearer.
4) Ea - Traditionally connected in Sumerian star readings to Aquarius. Enki literally translates to "lord of the earth", and has many references to water also.
Back to a more linear storytelling style that should be more familiar. And easier to read, I hope.
Topic: Gegenschein: The First [22/10 - Tablet IX] (Read 17034 times)