Notes: this story wants to be told, i cant get it out of my head. Trying to put words down to match the story though, tis a hard thing. Forgive me for my mistakes, grammar notwithstanding, its 1 am and im super tired. Please, any criticisms are welcome. I want to become better at this. Thanks again to /u/SabatonBabylon for giving me the enthusiasm for writing, even though i am nowhere near as good a writer as he is!
Chapter 2 - Aseena C'wai.
It had been a long month for Aseena. Certainly trying, but, she knew nothing would ever harm her, her goddess would see to that. It was her first foray into the lands, after graduating as a full sister of the T’avage.
Aseena sat on her drogo, its long legs eating up the distance, with a feeling of satisfaction and happiness. Her last stop had been successful, adding another name to her list of recruits for the temple come the crossing festival. Most of the villagers had welcomed her, especially her skills as a healer, and after a week of tending the sick, proselytising, interviewing and writing notes for her report to the T’avage, the religious order of C’wovel, she had left with their blessing, even her drogo was striding tall and proud, its scales shining after being tended by the handlers at the small temple in the village and being given rest and lots of peckut sap.
She shielded her eyes and noticed the positions of the suns, coming down into evening, and she knew she only had an hour to either find the next village or set up camp for the night. Her leaving was delayed by some villagers complaining to her about the horrible treatment from the priests, which she knew was an absolute lie. They were just trying to stir up dissent and cause unrest, and she had written their names down, and had given them to the temple priests. They wouldl help educate them in the proper forms of address, and teach them the way and the truth of the twin gods.
The pack on the drogo was bulging with supplies, a tithe from the village for all of those who represent the god and goddess, and she knew that even if she couldn’t find a village, it was only the work of a few minutes to set up her small shelter, and setup the hammock that she could sleep in. There were hostels run by the T’avage on the road at regular intervals but it she knew she wouldn’t make it to the next one in time.
The gait of the drogo, and the hot afternoon slowly lulled Aseena into an eyes half closed reverie, as she remembered the ceremony that had made her a full sister, a novice priestess of C’wovel, and had set her career onto the path of a full priestess of the T’avage. She had grown up in the shadow of the temple of C’wovel the Wise. Her parents weren’t rich, so they did the only thing they knew would give her a good chance of life, and handed her to the temple crèche when she was only four years old. The temple gave her the mark of the Twin Gods, the red circle overlapping the blue circle on her forehead, just above the bridge of her nose, and without conscious control gave the blessing, touching the mark with her two index fingers and with her palms covering her eyes, the belief that the goddess would guide here even if she was blind, and even when it was dark. It was a hard childhood, many lessons from the priests, the beatings, the isolation, learning and reciting the huge tracts of the holy book to be able to remember it when given a symbol or a phrase, or just the page number. The beatings from the priests happened often, but they weren’t even the worst of it. The tunnels under the temple of C’wovel were long and dark and winding, and the many tiny rooms where the acolytes slept, eat, and were punished were always dimly lit, if lit at all. The phrase “Goddess provide the light” was heard all the time, as well as the screaming, the moaning, and even worse the sudden silences from the isolation cells. The priests walked around with their stiff looks, and the batons of light, keeping all the female acolytes cowed down, teaching them humility. Aseena had learned all she could of the healing arts, choosing her path as a healing priestess, keeping her head down, and her mind ever alert to be what she imagined the perfect priestess should be like.
The priests had their favourites of course, sometimes the prettiest ones, sometimes the youngest ones, the first or second year trainees, and they would walk around with their faces held high and smug looks on their faces. If you crossed one of them it would be days in isolation, in the dark depths where light never reached, and all you would hear was the vermin, endlessly dripping water, and sometimes maniacal screaming, moaning and crying. Everything that happened was the goddess’ will, so Aseena took it in her stride. Everything that happened happened for a reason. The goddess provided the light, she just had to open her eyes.
The starkest of the lessons she learned was that of Tiskala. A year younger than her, she had questioned the teachings, displaying open rebellion and actually talked back to the priests. She was taken away, and not heard of for three weeks, and when she returned, her feathers where dull, her eyes downcast, her spirit broken, even the golden skin of the female C’wan was pale. She had had two of her crown feathers removed as a lesson to all the acolytes, crown feathers the most painful of all to remove, the nerve endings raw, the pain was known to cause C’wan to go strange, or even insane. Tiskala ended up going mad due to the pain and suffering, and it was a lesson that all of the acolytes took to heart. The goddess willed it, and it happened. Aseena had was tasked to find out what had happened to Tiskala after she never arrived for morning prayer, and on opening her cell, she was hit with the smell of blood, decay and faeces. Tiskala had bashed her head against the wall. Blood covered her naked pale golden body, the walls covered in words written in her own blood. Goddess provide the light. It left Aseena shaken, but her determination renewed. This was the punishment handed down from the gods for blasphemy. Aseena graduated with the highest marks out of her intake that year, and she was proud that she had learned the lesson of Tiskala. Never question, always follow, Goddess provides the Light.
The drogo must of sensed her in-attentiveness and had slowed down and scolding herself for drifting off, she realised it was evening, and time for her meal and evening prayers to the goddess. She guided the drogo off the road to a small hollow, the beast easily navigating the ruts in the road from the wagons, and Aseena found a small enclosed area under some trees, an ideal place for her camp for the night.
She slid down of the drogo, its scales smooth and cool, and unhooked her personal pack, and then tied the drogo up to a large peckut tree. The drogo, hungry and thirsty, curled up around the peckut tree, and with a careful slice of its sharp front teeth opened a small cut in the tree’s bark, and the blood red sap started to flow. The drogo started to lick up the sap, its main source of nutrition while Aseena set her her small camp.
Aseena first set up her golden patterned cover, covered in the symbols and tenets of the goddess and set it to face the sunrise, so that the first rays of the morning would grace the holy words. Sleeping under the cover was protection, C’wovel guarding her as she would sleep. She then set up the hammock a foot above the ground under the cover, and busied herself setting up her evening meal. Simple dark bread, a golden cheese with blue wax, some preserved fruits of the peckut tree, and finally, thinly sliced preserved perinut, her favourite vegetable, kept safe from the insects in a jar of peckut sap.
Before eating, she faced the setting suns, and said her prayers, thanking the Goddess for the light that day and begging her to come again tomorrow to bathe the land in truth, and then threw a peace of perinut to the winds, a gift. She then sat down cross legged, and ate her simple meal, with water from a drogo leather water bag. Her appetite sated, she checked on the drogo to see that it was curled up around the tree, and already asleep, and with the moon starting to rise, and a faintly tinged blue light started to pervade the forest, she took to her hammock, covering herself with her gold and red patterned travelling cloak, and brushing her fingertips along the holy cover, bade the goddess goodnight.
The next morning she rose with the suns, and said her morning prayers, and then performed her morning ablutions. The drogo was already up, and it had already finished its breakfast, the slice in the peckut tree starting to scab over. She had a quick breakfast of water and perinut, deciding not to light a fire this morning forgoing her normal morning cup of tea, and packed up quickly. She was shivering with excitement, her crown feathers fluttering. Today would be her first visit to the village of T’horya, the village her mother had come from, and she was hoping to visit her grandmother and grandfather as a full novice priestess of C’wovel. Aseena was bursting with pride, for her parents and grandparents had grown up poor, and she was the first in her family of many generations to be part of the religious orders, a very great privilege. It would take all day to get to T’horya, and she wanted to start early to get there before the village gate was closed.
Aseena beckoned the drogo over, and obediently it walked up to her, and put its head low, keeping its glassy sharp teeth covered, and she scratched its head. For a drogo it was very calm and after the initial apprehension of sitting on what appeared to be a small fire lizard, with the coloured scales, sharp teeth and long claws on its toes, she had been delighted to discover that drogo where very peaceful creatures, easy to train, and were very loyal to their masters. Aseena hadn’t named her drogo yet, she knew when it required a name the Goddess would provide it.
Packing up her hammock, and then carefully folding and putting away the cover, its words and patterns the true words of the gods, Aseena mounted the drogo, and head out into the morning with a smile on her face, and her crown feathers flared wide.
A large cracking boom reverberated through the still morning, upsetting the drogo and requiring Aseena to calm it down with gentle words and a warm palm on its forehead. Aseena had never heard anything like it before, it had echoed through the valley, a crack then a long low booming sound and she was frozen in apprehension.
She pulled out the map of the area she had packed when preparing for the trip, and after reading the map she realised the sound had come from an area that no one lived, or even had really explored, the terrain rugged, and not suitable for farming. The map was barely filled in here, no names, and only rough distances. Her curiosity peaked, knowing she could not be harmed in away, C’wovel would protect her, she steered the drogo towards the direction of the sound.
The terrain was more rugged then she had first realised. The drogo didn’t really mind, its claws and talons equally suited for climbing and walking on the road, but the going was fairly slow, and she had not heard anything else since the initial boom. Aseena was starting to think that she had heard a tree fall, or perhaps some rocks falling from a cliff, and she was about to guide the drogo back to the road when she heard a cry, so faint she thought it was just a creature of the forest, but the drogo lifted its head in the direction of the sound, and her interest renewed, she let it continue its way through the forest. After a while, the terrain started to get so rough she had to dismount and lead the animal, it following her obediently while she navigated through the rocks, logs and fallen branches. The land was dry and rough, and she found it hard to believe that anything or anyone could be up here, and spent her time thinking of what could make such a weird sound out in the middle of nowhere.
At midday, she decided to stop for lunch. The drogo, even tough as they were, was starting to pant, and it was time for water for it, and herself. The twin suns seemed to be extra hot today, but she knew it was the lack of breeze in the forest, the trees not moving at all, and their leaves nearly folded up completely to protect them from the suns, leaving her to experience nearly the full force of the light, and she had started to sweat profusely.
Pulling out her map again, she worked out she was about half way up the gorge, and a large flat topped hill which seemed to be where the noise and cry had come from was probably half a day away. It was very quiet in the forest, even the creatures were silent, and it had an eerie feel to it, perhaps as a reaction to the strange sounds from up the valley, but Aseena knew she was in no danger. Her goddess would never allow anything to happen to her, she was a chosen one.
Aseena spent an hour resting in the shadow of a large tree, and after eating a small lunch, watering the drogo, and allowing it to spend some time lapping up the sap of a rather small peckut tree, she knew it was time to continue. The goddes had put her on this path and she intended to follow through with it.
She stood up and brushed herself down, her white clothing starting to gather twigs and sticks from the forest, she beckoned to the drogo, and it uncurled itself and walked over to her. Holding her map, she lead the way further into the rough terrain, the hills getting steeper, and the rocks and boulders requiring her to make large detours. There were large rifts in the ground here, and she shuddered to think of what poor creatures could have fallen into them, and what else might be hiding down there already.
Her progress up the gorge was starting to slow down more now. She had only made another quarter of the way up the valley before she had to stop for the night, incredibly tired. She said her prayers and after watering her drogo, she put up her covering, and hammock, had a very small meal and went immediately to sleep, the small creatures of the night chittering and clicking.
Aseena woke up with the suns higher in the sky then she would have liked. As she hopped out of the hammock, she nearly collapsed, her legs tight and sore from the climbing, and she had to massage them for over an hour to get her muscles to relax so she could walk again. It was just pain though, a test for her from the Goddess, and she grit her teeth and performed her morning prayers, and having a larger breakfast this time, and even giving the drogo some preserved perinut which it enjoyed immensely, she got her camp packed up and carefully and slowly continued her trek up the gorge. She had nearly forgotten why she was doing it, her mind taking it as a test, a task given to her to complete no matter what the consequences.
She had a late lunch, and finished of the first of the three water bags keeping the both herself and her drogo cool and refreshed before she finally reached the base of the large flat topped hill roughly marked on her map. The map was old and only had simple markings of the land, but it had led her to her destination just as the suns had started to set. She looked up the hill to the top, and knew that was her destination, even to just watch the suns set, and give her prayers and thanks for the will to finish this test of her determination.
Her final steps up the hill were laboured, her legs aching in pain, and the drogo was panting and lagging behind her before she heard a pained groan from the top of the hill. It was full of agony, a terrible pain evident, and for the first time since she started this trek she felt fear. Something, or someone was in pain at the top of the hill, and she didn’t have any idea of what it could be.
Pausing for a few moments, waiting for her drogo to catch up, she had a moment of indecision. Would her goddess start her on this test without wanting her to finish it? Could she ever be happy with herself, turning around at the last moment? What if there was something up there that could hurt or even kill her. She had only ever seen the fire lizards from a distance, and she had no idea what they sounded like. Could a fire lizard have made that booming sound? The groans and moaning?
She stood still for a few moments before making her decision. She knew if she never finished this climb for the rest of her life she would wonder what was up on top of the flattened hill, a hill with no name on her map, a hill on the southern side of the ravine she had just walked up. She had to finish this, or her goddess would punish her.
Taking a deep breath, just as the suns hit the horizon, she made her decision and walked up the hill, towards whatever was going to be there for her. After taking a few steps, she heard another moan. It was quieter, but spoke of more pain, urgent. Something or someone was in pain, hurting and needing her healing skills.
Her steps quickened, a new energy driving her, she climbed up the hill, and started to notice bits of some kind of hard white material, with shiny edges. She had never seen anything like it before. It was metallic, but not the gold or copper or bronze that she knew of, it was white, or silver perhaps, nearly the colour of the blue sun, the god of C’wonor. It seemed to be bent, torn like parchment, from something larger. Discarding a piece of the strange material, she continued to walk.
She reached the summit just as the suns sunk behind the horizon and reflexively, she stopped and performed her ritual, ingrained in her since she was four, and now nineteen years of age, the ritual performed every sundown, a thank you for the light of the day, and a wish for the light to return in the morning, and while the god’s slept, to be watched over in the night.
She turned back to the summit, her pain forgotten. The scene in front of her was bizarre, there were more pieces of the hard white metal, and evidence of some form of wind, like a storm had passed through the area. What drew her eyes though was a large white strangely shaped house, very weirdly shaped, some form of runes on it that she couldn’t understand. It was rounded and looked like it was made of the same white material she had found pieces of spread out on the ground. The back of it was torn open as if a great pressure had broken it apart.
Her mouth was open and eyes taking in the bizarre scene when she heard the groan again, coming from the other side of the strange white structure. She carefully picked her way across the clearing, the drogo close behind her, sensing something strange as well, and keeping close to its master. She made her way around the smooth front of the strange object, and on hearing another tortured moan she came to a strangely shaped orange structure, about the size of a small drogo pen. It had a white top, and some form of candle on one side that didn’t seem to flicker at all. The moaning seemed to come from inside this structure, this strangely shaped hut.
She carefully walked forward, picking her way around pieces of white and green paper, and other strangely coloured pieces of things she had never seen before, before another louder moan came from the orange hut.
Aneesa reached it, and she ran her fingernails across the material, smooth, yet obviously woven from some strange orange thread.
Lucaz dreamed of nails scraping along the tent, or perhaps he had heard it, he wasn’t sure of anything anymore apart from the fact that he was dying.
Aneesa ran her fingernails back along the fabric, this time catching upon some form of seam. It lifted a little, and she heard the tortured breathing of something or someone inside. There was an injured, or sick person inside she thought to herself, but she had never seen anything like this strange covering before.
Lucaz heard the scraping again, the nails of whatever it was catching on the impregnated Kevlar of the inflatable tent, and was sure this time that he wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating. He looked towards the doorway of the tent, it being held closed with a stick seal. The dusky light had cast the faint shadow of some kind of person against the fabric, and whoever it was had caught the stick seam and was pulling it down. Lucaz tried to hold still, his muscles clenching in fever, the broken collarbone grinding, his leg thumping in pain.
Aneesa pulled back the sticky seam, it felt like it was some form of rough cloth, and it fell down, opening up the structure, and she heard tortured breathing, like a groaning through tightly clenched teeth. The smell coming out of the structure reminded her of Tiskala’s cell, sweat, a metallic smell, overlayed with vomit and urine. Whatever was inside was either dying, or very very sick. Taking a step back to get her breath, she looked over the hut again, her curiosity overcoming her natural aversion to the smell, Tiskala’s cell coming to mind again, and she took a step forward and looked inside.
Lucaz groaned in pain as a muscle spasm caused his back to arch, the pain and delirium causing him to let out a low keening sound. His eyes closed before he could see who or what was looking through the tent’s doorway, or perhaps he did see something, the silhouette of a small person, narrow waisted, long arms, with what looked like a feathered hat or head dress.
Lucaz lost consciousness.
Aneesa screamed.
Submitted June 05, 2018 at 06:05PM by rainwulf https://ift.tt/2Hmzquw
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