((OOC Note: I don’t necessarily require this thread to be private, but I do have something specific I need to accomplish with it, so it doesn’t have a whole lot of flexibility as to where it can go. If for some reason you really feel the need/desire to jump in, send me a PM and we can discuss how that can happen. Otherwise it may be better to catch me at another time when I don’t have quite such an agenda that I need to get done as planned. The story is continued from: http://www.tharshaddin.com/rp/viewtopic ... sc&start=0 ))
The ride to the cave was, for the most part, quiet. As they mounted the horses, Uluki learned their names—the wife was Nasima and the husband Zamat; the boy was Shuli and the girl Loie. The children, who looked so close in age, were in fact twins, and were eight years old. As they actually traveled, conversation was minimal. Uluki shared Nasima’s horse, and the other three rode separately. The family seemed to lack the energy to shout back and forth, so Uluki spent the ride reflecting and considering what she would do about the problem they faced.
Though they passed nothing Uluki would have considered a landmark, the family seemed completely sure of their way. After several hours of monotonous landscape— flat terrain and scrubby vegetation— they arrived at the outcropping of rocks that formed the cave. It turned out to be a small one, so shallow Uluki could see the back wall. That meant there was no chance there could be mortals waiting to ambush them, which was good, but Uluki knew better than to underestimate the power of evil spirits even in such a nondescript place. Caution was needed, not a false sense of security.
She stopped them outside the mouth of the cave, though they seemed prepared to lead her in. “Tell me about these spirits. What do they do? Do you know where they came from?”
Nasima answered her last question first. “They live here in the cave, but we don’t know where they came from. The cave is supposed to be for good spirits, the spirits of our ancestors. Our family has revered this cave for generations, and no harm has ever come to us here. We don’t know where our good spirits went, or why the evil ones took their place.”
“There was a man who stayed with us, and we think…” Zamat spoke cautiously. “I don’t mean to speak ill of anyone, especially a guest.”
Uluki nodded. “I understand. You aren’t accusing this man, because you don’t know for sure what happened. I need you to tell me anyway, though. I need to know anything that might help.”
He accepted this, though the subject clearly still made him uncomfortable. “A man was riding through, and stopped at our camp. He wore rich clothes and rode a good horse, but he had no food or fire, so we shared ours with him. He seemed kind, but in the morning... we saw him coming out of the cave. It was just curiosity, he said. He wanted to see the Cave of the Ancestors. He left that day, and we haven’t seen him since. We never knew where he came from, or where he was going. But after that…”
Nasima did not share her husband’s reluctance to discuss the subject. “That man did something in the cave. I don’t know what, but he chased the good spirits away. That’s why the evil ones moved in and took their place. Everything changed when he came out of that cave. Everything.”
“Nasima, please!” Zamat looked embarrassed. “That is a cruel thing to say about our guest. We have no reason to think he meant any harm.”
Uluki was privately inclined to agree with Nasima. They admittedly knew nothing about this man except that he had been their guest, and the timing seemed far too coincidental to be an accident, in spite of Zamat’s desire to be polite. Still, there seemed little use in pursuing the subject, since they didn’t know what the man had done, or even where he had gone. “How did you know the new spirits were evil? What did they do?”
“We were going to make the customary offering to the ancestors that night. We bring them food, to show they are still remembered by the living,” Nasima explained. Uluki nodded her understanding— it seemed a logical thing to do— so Nasima continued. “Loie was to bring them a loaf of bread as an offering. There’s never been any danger there before, so we had no fear to send her. She came running back to us a few minutes later, terrified. She said the spirits yanked the bread from her hands, and then they attacked her. It seemed a farfetched story, just a child’s imaginings. But then we saw…” Nasima beckoned Loie over and pulled down the neck of her tunic, exposing a few inches of the child’s upper back. She motioned Uluki to look.
Uluki drew in her breath. There were deep scratches, and handprints apparently burned into the child’s skin. The scratches explained the tattered clothes, Uluki realized. All the family members probably had similar injuries. No wonder they seemed so tired, and so afraid.
As Uluki looked at Loie’s wounds, Nasima spoke again. “We abandoned the cave after that. We revere the ancestors, but you saw what happened to our daughter.” Uluki nodded. She would have done the same if one of her own children had been injured. “It didn’t matter, though. The evil spirits still found us. They come every night. Not just for Loie, for all of us. The whole steppe is theirs, as soon as the sun sets. They always find us, no matter how far we run. The wounds never seem to heal, not with our poultices, or even with time.” Uluki wondered if magic would heal them. She certainly intended to try.
“We don’t know what we did to anger these spirits, wise one.” Zamat did indeed sound genuinely puzzled. “We’ve done nothing differently. We have been faithful in our offerings, and reverent in our speech. Why have our ancestors abandoned us to these things? What have we done to offend them so?”
“I don’t know,” Uluki admitted honestly. “I’ll need to try speaking with them. I can see no reason for them to harm you, but perhaps they will tell me.”
“We’ll stay with you, of course.” Zamat said, as though it was obvious.
Uluki shook her head. She couldn’t take the risk, not after seeing those wounds. “No. Go back to Marn, or any other place you think you might have a chance of being safe. Stay there for the night, and come back for me in the morning.”
“But wise one…”
“Uluki. Just Uluki. I assume you’ve tried to use weapons against them?”
“Yes, wise… Uluki. It has no effect. Our arrows go right through them, as do our hands.”
Uluki had figured as much, given that such spirits typically lacked bodies. “Then your staying has no purpose except to put you in danger. I’ll be better able to concentrate if I don’t have to worry whether you’re being harmed,” she said bluntly. “Take your children someplace safe for the night. Come back for me in the morning. By then I should have a better idea about these spirits.”
She knew it was a risk, but it seemed the lesser one. They hadn’t been followed, and she doubted anyone but the family’s fellow nomads could find the way here. There was a chance that if they left she would be attacked by mortals… but a far greater risk to them if they stayed. Entities that could wound could also kill, and these spirits likely wouldn’t be happy about her interference.
“We’ll leave a horse here with you,” Zamut offered as a compromise. “The children can share. That way, if it gets to be too much…” Uluki nodded. It was a sensible precaution. “We are very grateful to you for…”
“Save your gratitude till you see if I actually accomplish anything.”
“In terms of repayment for your efforts, we are poor folk, and we have little to offer…”
“That doesn’t matter. Put it from your mind. All that is important is keeping your family safe. Before you go, I’ll see if my magic can heal your injuries.” To her relief, magic was indeed effective, and she was able to heal all four of them fully. It seemed these spirits weren’t so invincible after all. She filed that tidbit away in her mind, should it prove useful in the future.
The family was in far better physical condition now than they had been when they arrived, and that seemed to give them hope. They smiled and thanked her and wished her luck, and Uluki smiled back but urged them to be on their way quickly so they could reach their destination before night fell.
Uluki gathered some of the scrubby brush in a pile, and stacked a larger pile in the corner of the cave. She lit a fire in the smaller pile, saving the rest of the brush as fuel to feed it during the night ahead. With that done, she sat quietly, her eyes and mind focused on the dancing flame, and waited for nightfall.
In the Cave of the Ancestors
-
Lylessa Uluki
- Citizen
- Posts: 669
- Joined: Thu Jun 14, 2007 12:12 am
- Name: Uluki
- Race: Duskling - Fae
-
Lylessa Uluki
- Citizen
- Posts: 669
- Joined: Thu Jun 14, 2007 12:12 am
- Name: Uluki
- Race: Duskling - Fae
The twilight seemed to last longer than it had on other days. Uluki wasn’t sure if it was because she was out on the steppe away from the city, or her if it was her slightly nervous anticipation that seemed to prolong the transition.
In that long gloaming, as day faded into night, symbols gradually appeared on the walls. They looked like script, not pictures, but they were strange ones to Uluki’s eyes, no language she recognized. She realized that they were not reflecting light but actually glowing themselves, emitting a soft blue shine that intensified as the sun set and the sky darkened.
Uluki wished she’d brought paper or had some way to record the symbols so she could ask Zamat and Nasima if they’d always been there, but she hadn’t had the forethought to bring anything beyond the usual camping supplies. That was a serious oversight. She would try to remember what she saw, but it was hard to memorize a strange symbol with no context. She reached out to trace one with her finger, and gasped as the luminescent blue came off on her hand. Once she got over her moment of being startled, she brought her finger close to her face and examined the substance. It seemed to be some kind of paint, but she didn’t understand why it was still wet enough to rub off on her, or how it could glow like that. It wasn’t like any kind of paint she’d ever seen.
She noted with interest that the closer she got to the light of her fire, the more luminescence of the paint faded. She tried wiping the substance off her hand with the sleeve of her dress, but it didn’t work, which seemed odd. Was there anything about this situation that wasn’t odd?
While she made her observations about the glowing, the last of the light faded, and there was nothing left to see by but her fire and the stars that were visible through the cave mouth. She wondered idly if there was a moon tonight; she couldn’t see it from inside the cave.
That was when she heard the whispers. “Sssssssss…” it began, just a soft hissing, unintelligible but growing stronger. It seemed to be coming from all around her. As it got louder, she began to make out words. “Sssssssssssss…” “Guessssssst…” “Guessst?” “Is it the Guest?”
Then she saw the figures, white as snow and insubstantial as smoke, surrounding her and blocking the mouth of the cave. These must be the spirits. She hadn’t expected so many. They were just indistinct shapes; she couldn’t tell if they were male or female, young or old. They melted and blended together till she couldn’t see individual figures at all sometimes.
“She isn’t the Guest,” said one spirit, though Uluki was not able to distinguish it from its fellows. If such a voice could be said to have emotion, it sounded like scorn. Mostly, it just sounded like the grave.
“No,” replied another. Or was it the same one, answering its own question? Uluki couldn’t tell, the way they twined and twirled, joined and separated. “The Guest is gone. She is just an interloper. Who are you? Where is the family?”
“I’m Uluki,” she answered honestly, but didn’t volunteer any additional information about herself. “I don’t know where the family went.” She was glad that was true. She had only told them to go someplace safe, not where. No matter what the spirits did to her, they couldn’t force her to reveal information she didn’t have. “Who are you? What happened to the ancestors?”
“We are the ancestors,” a spirit replied. But if the voices could indeed be said to have emotion, this one sounded almost like… doubt? Uluki wasn’t sure what to make of that.
“If you are the ancestors, why are you tormenting these people? What did they do to you? They said they are faithful in their offerings. How have they displeased you?”
There was a long silence. “They have not… displeased.” Confusion. This time Uluki was almost sure the emotion in the voice was confusion.
She sensed she had gained some kind of advantage, and though she wasn’t sure quite how, instinct told her to press it. “Then why do you harm them? Why do you go after them night after night?”
There was a longer silence this time, so long Uluki wasn’t sure the spirits would respond at all. Finally the answer came, slowly, the words so drawn out they were hard to understand. “Because we cannot do otherwise.”
Then all of a sudden, things started to happen very quickly. Before Uluki had a chance to consider the implications of that revelation, the spirits began to move, to circle her faster and faster. Then their circle was passing through her, one after the other, as though she were no more substantial than they were. They felt like mist, cold and damp. Uluki gasped for breath, the wind knocked out of her by the strangeness of the sensation. It wasn’t painful, but it was deeply unsettling. Their laughter rang through her head.
“We know you now, shaman. We know you came to banish us. You were foolish to think you could win. We know every pain, every bad memory, and to us they are weapons. We could kill you, but we’d rather drive you mad.” The voice resonated inside her head as well as in the cave. “Every sadness… every pain…” As they danced, she began to see images, then whole scenes. The cave seemed to dissolve from her vision.
She stood on battlefield, lost in the jumble of chaos and confusion. She was supposed to heal Mercedes. That had been her only job. Such a simple thing. Heal Mercedes while the psychic energy was channeled through her. Uluki had failed. Mercedes had collapsed, dead as far as Uluki could tell. She felt numb, like she was made of ice. She’d lost her best friend, her sister.
She was also unexpectedly at loose ends. She’d had only one job, only one part in the plan, and she had failed. The whole plan had failed with her. It couldn’t be over. It couldn’t end like this. The evil god couldn’t win! That was unthinkable.
She’d actually managed to convince herself they could succeed. That somehow, even though the odds were clearly impossible, they would prevail by sheer force of will, by amount of effort. She still wanted to believe that. Giving up was completely alien to her nature. She had to go on. She wanted to. She just wasn’t sure how.
Uluki was doing her best to ignore what was happening to Rollick. She had known what was coming, and so had he. She knew the pain they would have to inflict on him, and that he was prepared to make the sacrifice. She tried to focus on afterward, that he would be safe and home again, and forget what had to happen first.
But as she stepped away, away from Mercedes, the dear friend she could do no more for, she got a good look at the man she loved, and she felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest. His face was as pale and drawn as it had before the battle began; he was visibly exhausted from four months of fighting the creature that inhabited him. Now he was in infinitely worse condition. There were deep wounds in his chest and belly, punctures from a rapier and slashes from a greatsword. The back of his head was slick with blood where Mercedes had plunged the blade into his skull to channel the energy that they had hoped would break the god’s hold on its host. His arms were bound— that way the god couldn’t use his body, even though it could still use magic to wound, and was doing so as much as it was able. The scarf Uluki had knitted for Rollick still hung forlornly around his neck, soaked with blood. It was obvious he was near death. It amazed her that he wasn’t dead already, injured as he was. He met her eyes, just for a moment.
Then the paladin’s sword cut into him, striking downward where his neck joined his collarbone, biting deep into his flesh. Rollick finally fell, and time slowed down for Uluki. It seemed like hours that she stood there, frozen, watching him sink to the muddy ground.
“Rollick!” She screamed his name desperately, scrambling toward him. She opened her arms, reaching for him. Maybe she could still save him. She had to, whatever it took. She couldn’t let him die.
Her arms grasped empty air, and she fell forward, face-first into the dirt. He wasn’t here, she reminded herself sternly, pulling herself back to reality. Rollick was safe at home, and the scrapes on her face stung, reminding her how empty the vision had been. Just images, just words. Not real. She tried to remind herself of that, but the spirits were still dancing, and the scene changed.
“Murderer!” The words seemed to assail her from every side. “Killer! Witch!”
Her tribe stood around her in a tight ring. She around looked desperately, trying to find someone to speak for her, but their faces were hard and cold. Someone threw a clump of muddy earth, and it struck the side of her face. The soft dirt broke when it hit her, leaving the bits in her hair and down the front of her dress.
“Forgive me, please!” she begged desperately. “I never meant to hurt him.”
“Your magic killed him.” It was her father’s voice. “You killed our shaman to take his place.”
“No!” She was actually shocked by the suggestion. “I didn’t mean to. I was just trying to show my magic, so everyone would see I was powerful too.” It sounded so silly now, what had been so important before. Pride was foolishness. She was nothing, and should never have pretended otherwise.
“He saw your power, you child of evil, when you killed him.” It was the dead man’s wife. Uluki’s heart broke.
“I didn’t mean to. I liked him. He was a nice man. I didn’t want him to die.”
“Empty words.”
“If I could bring him back, I would!”
“You can’t,” her father said impatiently. He turned to the widow. “What is your will?”
“Cast her out. Cast out the evil one.”
“No, please!” Uluki would rather the woman had asked for her death. A Duskling without a family was lost. Alone was worse than dead.
“Very well.” And slowly, deliberately, her father turned his back on her. He ignored her, speaking to her fiancé. “Will you go with her?” Her lover shook his head, not giving it an instant’s thought. “Very well,” her father repeated. “She leaves alone.”
“Please!” she begged. “Mother! Barteo! Reyah! Please!” They didn’t listen. Her mother, brother, and sister turned their backs too.
Uluki began to sob, because she knew it was over then. They wouldn’t change their minds. She turned to leave. What else could she do?
She was nothing. Alone is worse than dead…
“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean it. Father, Mother, Reyah, Barteo, please… Don’t leave me alone!”
“Alone, alone, alone…” the spirits repeated, still circling. Their chant faded as she saw yet another scene before her.
She was in bed. Her body was young, still half a girl’s, though she was well on her way to womanhood. Her skin was smooth, unscarred. He lay with his back to her, also young, little more than a boy himself. She reached out to stroke his shoulder, blue skin to blue skin. He ignored her.
“Garz?” she said softly, still trying to get his attention with her touch. “I’m sorry I made you angry. I wasn’t trying to upset you.”
He rolled over and looked at her angrily. “I just sometimes wonder what’s wrong with you, Lylessa! You’re crazy sometimes. I don’t know what makes you think you can just… demand things from me.”
“I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t know what it is you expect from me. I don’t see why you’re so damn upset about it. I told you I don’t care if you do the same. I don’t control you like you try to control me. I really think there’s something wrong with you, Less.”
“I don’t want to… with other men. I wish you wouldn’t with other women, either. We’re getting married, Garz! I think it would be better if we were faithful.”
“Faithful?” he laughed at the idea, a little coldly, she thought. “Maybe I would be, if you were more… satisfying.”
That cut her. Deeply. All she wanted was to please him. She’d given him everything… her heart and soul, her virginity, promised her hand in marriage. It wasn’t enough. It was never enough. Nothing she could give was good enough. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.” What else was there to say? She was weak and foolish and inexperienced, and he never let her forget it.
“You’re damn lucky I put up with you. Most men wouldn’t be bothered.”
“I know,” she said miserably. “I just thought…”
“Do yourself a favour and don’t. Think, I mean. No offence, Less, but you’re dumb as a rock. No one is ever going to love you for your brains. It’s a good thing you’re pretty.” Apparently thinking he’d bestowed a great compliment, he kissed her.
She knew he didn’t mean those things he said. At least, she hoped he didn’t. That was just how he joked around, she reminded herself, and it only hurt because she was oversensitive. That was what he called her, “oversensitive.” The words only stung because she was abnormal. Still, she wished he would be a little more careful. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.
“Just shut up, Less. You’re more attractive when you don’t talk…”
Uluki laughed.
The spirits stopped their whirling dance, surprised by the sound.
“You really thought that could still hurt?” Her voice was incredulous. The spirits seemed uncertain, unsure how to react. She suspected she had unnerved them. “I think you’re going to need to try a little harder. You want to remind me that I loved unwisely in my youth? Fine, I did. So did a lot of people. Yes, it hurt at the time, but I learned. I learned, and it made me better. You can’t use Garz to wound me, because he doesn’t matter to me anymore. He has no power over me. You’d better try again.”
She had the upper hand now, she was sure of it. They had made a grievous misstep with that last memory, and their attack on her mind had failed. Uluki laughed again, filling the cave with the sound. It was the sound of the living, and the dead could not suppress it.
The spirits realized it too, and their mirth seemed to have turned to desperation. Before she had time to process enough to react, three of them seemed to solidify. As if obeying an invisible cue, they all leapt at her at the same second. One clawed at her face, its talons stinging with cold as the blood ran down her cheek. Another grabbed her left sleeve, but she jerked away, and the sleeve separated from her dress with a rip of material, and she herself was unharmed. Her attempt to twist away drove her straight into the third, however, and it raked its claws down her body, opening gashes in her skin from underarm to hip.
Uluki was very hard to kill, and knew it. In spite of her small frame and her physical fragility, it generally proved a challenge to finish off someone with an almost infinite capacity to heal herself. Still, she recognized that she was in danger here. There were so many of them. They didn’t seem to be able to do much harm individually, but working together they could damage her too fast, faster than she could heal.
Uluki had given up the ability to cast spells combatively. It had divided her mind too much, made her feel guilty and unsure. Too many of the enemies she and her friends hadn’t managed to kill had later become friends themselves. Still, it was clearly a matter of her life right now. Could she pull it off, now when she so badly needed to? Could she make a spell that would harm rather than heal? She gathered all her strength, focused all her energy, and reached out for the nearest of the three now-corporeal spirits…
…And failed.
As her hand made contact with the being, she knew with a sudden, horrifying certainty that it wasn’t going to work. She couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t harm with magic, not even to save her life. As the energy poured out of her body into the creature, she knew it was still healing magic she channeled. It was too late to stop. Unable to divert the flow of magic, she healed the embodied spirit… and to her surprise, she realized there was damage to heal… so much damage! She didn’t understand. Uluki opened her mind to the connection, allowing herself to sense, to feel, rather than cutting herself off. What she found surprised her.
She found the answer. She found hope. In that brief instant, healing the creature that was attacking her, she knew what she had to do. How to do it was another matter, but she finally understood. Uluki laughed again, because everything was going to be alright.
In that long gloaming, as day faded into night, symbols gradually appeared on the walls. They looked like script, not pictures, but they were strange ones to Uluki’s eyes, no language she recognized. She realized that they were not reflecting light but actually glowing themselves, emitting a soft blue shine that intensified as the sun set and the sky darkened.
Uluki wished she’d brought paper or had some way to record the symbols so she could ask Zamat and Nasima if they’d always been there, but she hadn’t had the forethought to bring anything beyond the usual camping supplies. That was a serious oversight. She would try to remember what she saw, but it was hard to memorize a strange symbol with no context. She reached out to trace one with her finger, and gasped as the luminescent blue came off on her hand. Once she got over her moment of being startled, she brought her finger close to her face and examined the substance. It seemed to be some kind of paint, but she didn’t understand why it was still wet enough to rub off on her, or how it could glow like that. It wasn’t like any kind of paint she’d ever seen.
She noted with interest that the closer she got to the light of her fire, the more luminescence of the paint faded. She tried wiping the substance off her hand with the sleeve of her dress, but it didn’t work, which seemed odd. Was there anything about this situation that wasn’t odd?
While she made her observations about the glowing, the last of the light faded, and there was nothing left to see by but her fire and the stars that were visible through the cave mouth. She wondered idly if there was a moon tonight; she couldn’t see it from inside the cave.
That was when she heard the whispers. “Sssssssss…” it began, just a soft hissing, unintelligible but growing stronger. It seemed to be coming from all around her. As it got louder, she began to make out words. “Sssssssssssss…” “Guessssssst…” “Guessst?” “Is it the Guest?”
Then she saw the figures, white as snow and insubstantial as smoke, surrounding her and blocking the mouth of the cave. These must be the spirits. She hadn’t expected so many. They were just indistinct shapes; she couldn’t tell if they were male or female, young or old. They melted and blended together till she couldn’t see individual figures at all sometimes.
“She isn’t the Guest,” said one spirit, though Uluki was not able to distinguish it from its fellows. If such a voice could be said to have emotion, it sounded like scorn. Mostly, it just sounded like the grave.
“No,” replied another. Or was it the same one, answering its own question? Uluki couldn’t tell, the way they twined and twirled, joined and separated. “The Guest is gone. She is just an interloper. Who are you? Where is the family?”
“I’m Uluki,” she answered honestly, but didn’t volunteer any additional information about herself. “I don’t know where the family went.” She was glad that was true. She had only told them to go someplace safe, not where. No matter what the spirits did to her, they couldn’t force her to reveal information she didn’t have. “Who are you? What happened to the ancestors?”
“We are the ancestors,” a spirit replied. But if the voices could indeed be said to have emotion, this one sounded almost like… doubt? Uluki wasn’t sure what to make of that.
“If you are the ancestors, why are you tormenting these people? What did they do to you? They said they are faithful in their offerings. How have they displeased you?”
There was a long silence. “They have not… displeased.” Confusion. This time Uluki was almost sure the emotion in the voice was confusion.
She sensed she had gained some kind of advantage, and though she wasn’t sure quite how, instinct told her to press it. “Then why do you harm them? Why do you go after them night after night?”
There was a longer silence this time, so long Uluki wasn’t sure the spirits would respond at all. Finally the answer came, slowly, the words so drawn out they were hard to understand. “Because we cannot do otherwise.”
Then all of a sudden, things started to happen very quickly. Before Uluki had a chance to consider the implications of that revelation, the spirits began to move, to circle her faster and faster. Then their circle was passing through her, one after the other, as though she were no more substantial than they were. They felt like mist, cold and damp. Uluki gasped for breath, the wind knocked out of her by the strangeness of the sensation. It wasn’t painful, but it was deeply unsettling. Their laughter rang through her head.
“We know you now, shaman. We know you came to banish us. You were foolish to think you could win. We know every pain, every bad memory, and to us they are weapons. We could kill you, but we’d rather drive you mad.” The voice resonated inside her head as well as in the cave. “Every sadness… every pain…” As they danced, she began to see images, then whole scenes. The cave seemed to dissolve from her vision.
She stood on battlefield, lost in the jumble of chaos and confusion. She was supposed to heal Mercedes. That had been her only job. Such a simple thing. Heal Mercedes while the psychic energy was channeled through her. Uluki had failed. Mercedes had collapsed, dead as far as Uluki could tell. She felt numb, like she was made of ice. She’d lost her best friend, her sister.
She was also unexpectedly at loose ends. She’d had only one job, only one part in the plan, and she had failed. The whole plan had failed with her. It couldn’t be over. It couldn’t end like this. The evil god couldn’t win! That was unthinkable.
She’d actually managed to convince herself they could succeed. That somehow, even though the odds were clearly impossible, they would prevail by sheer force of will, by amount of effort. She still wanted to believe that. Giving up was completely alien to her nature. She had to go on. She wanted to. She just wasn’t sure how.
Uluki was doing her best to ignore what was happening to Rollick. She had known what was coming, and so had he. She knew the pain they would have to inflict on him, and that he was prepared to make the sacrifice. She tried to focus on afterward, that he would be safe and home again, and forget what had to happen first.
But as she stepped away, away from Mercedes, the dear friend she could do no more for, she got a good look at the man she loved, and she felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest. His face was as pale and drawn as it had before the battle began; he was visibly exhausted from four months of fighting the creature that inhabited him. Now he was in infinitely worse condition. There were deep wounds in his chest and belly, punctures from a rapier and slashes from a greatsword. The back of his head was slick with blood where Mercedes had plunged the blade into his skull to channel the energy that they had hoped would break the god’s hold on its host. His arms were bound— that way the god couldn’t use his body, even though it could still use magic to wound, and was doing so as much as it was able. The scarf Uluki had knitted for Rollick still hung forlornly around his neck, soaked with blood. It was obvious he was near death. It amazed her that he wasn’t dead already, injured as he was. He met her eyes, just for a moment.
Then the paladin’s sword cut into him, striking downward where his neck joined his collarbone, biting deep into his flesh. Rollick finally fell, and time slowed down for Uluki. It seemed like hours that she stood there, frozen, watching him sink to the muddy ground.
“Rollick!” She screamed his name desperately, scrambling toward him. She opened her arms, reaching for him. Maybe she could still save him. She had to, whatever it took. She couldn’t let him die.
Her arms grasped empty air, and she fell forward, face-first into the dirt. He wasn’t here, she reminded herself sternly, pulling herself back to reality. Rollick was safe at home, and the scrapes on her face stung, reminding her how empty the vision had been. Just images, just words. Not real. She tried to remind herself of that, but the spirits were still dancing, and the scene changed.
“Murderer!” The words seemed to assail her from every side. “Killer! Witch!”
Her tribe stood around her in a tight ring. She around looked desperately, trying to find someone to speak for her, but their faces were hard and cold. Someone threw a clump of muddy earth, and it struck the side of her face. The soft dirt broke when it hit her, leaving the bits in her hair and down the front of her dress.
“Forgive me, please!” she begged desperately. “I never meant to hurt him.”
“Your magic killed him.” It was her father’s voice. “You killed our shaman to take his place.”
“No!” She was actually shocked by the suggestion. “I didn’t mean to. I was just trying to show my magic, so everyone would see I was powerful too.” It sounded so silly now, what had been so important before. Pride was foolishness. She was nothing, and should never have pretended otherwise.
“He saw your power, you child of evil, when you killed him.” It was the dead man’s wife. Uluki’s heart broke.
“I didn’t mean to. I liked him. He was a nice man. I didn’t want him to die.”
“Empty words.”
“If I could bring him back, I would!”
“You can’t,” her father said impatiently. He turned to the widow. “What is your will?”
“Cast her out. Cast out the evil one.”
“No, please!” Uluki would rather the woman had asked for her death. A Duskling without a family was lost. Alone was worse than dead.
“Very well.” And slowly, deliberately, her father turned his back on her. He ignored her, speaking to her fiancé. “Will you go with her?” Her lover shook his head, not giving it an instant’s thought. “Very well,” her father repeated. “She leaves alone.”
“Please!” she begged. “Mother! Barteo! Reyah! Please!” They didn’t listen. Her mother, brother, and sister turned their backs too.
Uluki began to sob, because she knew it was over then. They wouldn’t change their minds. She turned to leave. What else could she do?
She was nothing. Alone is worse than dead…
“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean it. Father, Mother, Reyah, Barteo, please… Don’t leave me alone!”
“Alone, alone, alone…” the spirits repeated, still circling. Their chant faded as she saw yet another scene before her.
She was in bed. Her body was young, still half a girl’s, though she was well on her way to womanhood. Her skin was smooth, unscarred. He lay with his back to her, also young, little more than a boy himself. She reached out to stroke his shoulder, blue skin to blue skin. He ignored her.
“Garz?” she said softly, still trying to get his attention with her touch. “I’m sorry I made you angry. I wasn’t trying to upset you.”
He rolled over and looked at her angrily. “I just sometimes wonder what’s wrong with you, Lylessa! You’re crazy sometimes. I don’t know what makes you think you can just… demand things from me.”
“I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t know what it is you expect from me. I don’t see why you’re so damn upset about it. I told you I don’t care if you do the same. I don’t control you like you try to control me. I really think there’s something wrong with you, Less.”
“I don’t want to… with other men. I wish you wouldn’t with other women, either. We’re getting married, Garz! I think it would be better if we were faithful.”
“Faithful?” he laughed at the idea, a little coldly, she thought. “Maybe I would be, if you were more… satisfying.”
That cut her. Deeply. All she wanted was to please him. She’d given him everything… her heart and soul, her virginity, promised her hand in marriage. It wasn’t enough. It was never enough. Nothing she could give was good enough. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.” What else was there to say? She was weak and foolish and inexperienced, and he never let her forget it.
“You’re damn lucky I put up with you. Most men wouldn’t be bothered.”
“I know,” she said miserably. “I just thought…”
“Do yourself a favour and don’t. Think, I mean. No offence, Less, but you’re dumb as a rock. No one is ever going to love you for your brains. It’s a good thing you’re pretty.” Apparently thinking he’d bestowed a great compliment, he kissed her.
She knew he didn’t mean those things he said. At least, she hoped he didn’t. That was just how he joked around, she reminded herself, and it only hurt because she was oversensitive. That was what he called her, “oversensitive.” The words only stung because she was abnormal. Still, she wished he would be a little more careful. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.
“Just shut up, Less. You’re more attractive when you don’t talk…”
Uluki laughed.
The spirits stopped their whirling dance, surprised by the sound.
“You really thought that could still hurt?” Her voice was incredulous. The spirits seemed uncertain, unsure how to react. She suspected she had unnerved them. “I think you’re going to need to try a little harder. You want to remind me that I loved unwisely in my youth? Fine, I did. So did a lot of people. Yes, it hurt at the time, but I learned. I learned, and it made me better. You can’t use Garz to wound me, because he doesn’t matter to me anymore. He has no power over me. You’d better try again.”
She had the upper hand now, she was sure of it. They had made a grievous misstep with that last memory, and their attack on her mind had failed. Uluki laughed again, filling the cave with the sound. It was the sound of the living, and the dead could not suppress it.
The spirits realized it too, and their mirth seemed to have turned to desperation. Before she had time to process enough to react, three of them seemed to solidify. As if obeying an invisible cue, they all leapt at her at the same second. One clawed at her face, its talons stinging with cold as the blood ran down her cheek. Another grabbed her left sleeve, but she jerked away, and the sleeve separated from her dress with a rip of material, and she herself was unharmed. Her attempt to twist away drove her straight into the third, however, and it raked its claws down her body, opening gashes in her skin from underarm to hip.
Uluki was very hard to kill, and knew it. In spite of her small frame and her physical fragility, it generally proved a challenge to finish off someone with an almost infinite capacity to heal herself. Still, she recognized that she was in danger here. There were so many of them. They didn’t seem to be able to do much harm individually, but working together they could damage her too fast, faster than she could heal.
Uluki had given up the ability to cast spells combatively. It had divided her mind too much, made her feel guilty and unsure. Too many of the enemies she and her friends hadn’t managed to kill had later become friends themselves. Still, it was clearly a matter of her life right now. Could she pull it off, now when she so badly needed to? Could she make a spell that would harm rather than heal? She gathered all her strength, focused all her energy, and reached out for the nearest of the three now-corporeal spirits…
…And failed.
As her hand made contact with the being, she knew with a sudden, horrifying certainty that it wasn’t going to work. She couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t harm with magic, not even to save her life. As the energy poured out of her body into the creature, she knew it was still healing magic she channeled. It was too late to stop. Unable to divert the flow of magic, she healed the embodied spirit… and to her surprise, she realized there was damage to heal… so much damage! She didn’t understand. Uluki opened her mind to the connection, allowing herself to sense, to feel, rather than cutting herself off. What she found surprised her.
She found the answer. She found hope. In that brief instant, healing the creature that was attacking her, she knew what she had to do. How to do it was another matter, but she finally understood. Uluki laughed again, because everything was going to be alright.
-
Lylessa Uluki
- Citizen
- Posts: 669
- Joined: Thu Jun 14, 2007 12:12 am
- Name: Uluki
- Race: Duskling - Fae
The creature shrieked as Uluki’s healing magic poured into it. It sunk its talons into her belly, trying to push her away, but it wasn’t as effective trying to puncture as scratching, and though it hurt, the claws didn’t go in far enough to do serious damage. Another of the embodied spirits took a more productive approach and twined its fingers through Uluki’s hair, trying to jerk her backwards. She relaxed her neck and allowed it to pull her head back, breaking the tension unexpectedly and, without the resistance it was counting on, forcing it to loosen its hold. Her hair slipped through its fingers, tearing out a few long black strands but freeing her. Uluki lunged forward and tackled the spirit she was healing, locking her hands behind it. It screeched and twisted, but she held on as tightly as she could, though it drove the claws deeper into her flesh.
The others tugged at her, pulling on her shoulders and drawing their claws down her back. There seemed to be more than three in physical form now, though she couldn’t see exactly how many were behind her. The small size of the cave actually worked to her advantage. As long as they were wispy and smoky, there was no limit to how many spirits could be present, but in physical form, there was a definite cap on the number that would fit in the space.
It couldn’t change forms while she was touching it. That was clear. If it could have turned back to smoke, it would have, and then it could have escaped her grip easily. She had thought that might be the case, and she also had a good idea why. It was the same reason the strange glowing paint came off on her skin, but not on her dress. Why she could touch them, but neither Zamat and Nasima’s hands nor their arrows had any effect. Magic was the spirits’ strength, but also their vulnerability. Uluki’s abilities were part of her being, not learned, and the spirits couldn’t help reacting to them.
She pushed more positive energy into the creature she was clinging to. The embodied spirit was full of negative energy, but it was energy she could feel. It wasn’t because the creature was evil. Uluki couldn’t sense a creature’s moral condition. She could, however, sense injuries, pain, and disease as she healed… obviously, or she would have no way of knowing where to direct her energy. Otherwise, it would be like trying to treat an injury by conventional means while wearing a blindfold. She had to feel the damage to repair it.
There was a lot of damage to this spirit. Taint, corruption— magical disease. This being had been ripped apart by magic, and it was wounded. It was broken. It was so shattered and twisted, it no longer had control. It was in pain. It wasn’t evil. That was a good thing. Uluki had no control over evil. She had weapons against pain and disease. She was that weapon. She could fix this. More energy poured out of her.
The creatures behind her, not particularly strong on their own, had managed to coordinate their efforts, and they dragged Uluki backwards, breaking her hold. It hadn’t been enough. She’d healed some of the taint, but she knew it wasn’t sufficient. It wasn’t done, but her arms weren’t strong enough to resist them all.
The creature she’d been healing screamed, high-pitched and inhuman, more like a wounded animal. It grabbed Uluki by the shoulders… but it didn’t sink in its claws. It screamed again, and with surprising strength, far more than it had before she began healing it, it yanked Uluki back toward it, pressing her against its cold flesh. For a moment she didn’t understand what it was doing, but it quickly dawned on her. It wanted to be healed. She had removed enough of the taint that it had realized it was corrupted. Once it had been able to sense that, it wanted her help. That made things a lot easier. Uluki resumed her healing, now able to concentrate more fully. The creature kept a tight grip on her, not allowing her to be pulled away, though the others continued to claw at her, fairly ineffectually.
Uluki was almost done. She could sense the last of the negative energy, the last of the pain leaving, and she could see a visible difference in the creature. It had darkened; it was no longer the parched white of old bones. As she completed her task, the outlines became distinct. It was no longer… a creature. It was a person, an old woman. She had white hair and wrinkled brown skin, and her dark eyes were kind. Talismans and charms hung around her neck, marking her as a shaman or holy woman. She smiled gratefully at Uluki.
A hand wrapped around Uluki’s throat, the talons poised dangerously to slice into her skin and the flesh beneath. The old woman met Uluki’s eyes and smiled again, then she dove at the creature that was threatening. The embodied being was no match for the powerful healed good spirit. Ancestor spirit, Uluki realized in a moment of clarity.
Rather than harming the wayward creature, the old woman wrapped her strong arms around it and pushed it toward Uluki, still keeping it in check, while blocking the others as well as possible. Their eyes met again, and Uluki nodded. She reached forward with both hands, pouring healing magic into the restrained spirit.
Soon the ancestor spirits would all be restored, Uluki vowed.
The others tugged at her, pulling on her shoulders and drawing their claws down her back. There seemed to be more than three in physical form now, though she couldn’t see exactly how many were behind her. The small size of the cave actually worked to her advantage. As long as they were wispy and smoky, there was no limit to how many spirits could be present, but in physical form, there was a definite cap on the number that would fit in the space.
It couldn’t change forms while she was touching it. That was clear. If it could have turned back to smoke, it would have, and then it could have escaped her grip easily. She had thought that might be the case, and she also had a good idea why. It was the same reason the strange glowing paint came off on her skin, but not on her dress. Why she could touch them, but neither Zamat and Nasima’s hands nor their arrows had any effect. Magic was the spirits’ strength, but also their vulnerability. Uluki’s abilities were part of her being, not learned, and the spirits couldn’t help reacting to them.
She pushed more positive energy into the creature she was clinging to. The embodied spirit was full of negative energy, but it was energy she could feel. It wasn’t because the creature was evil. Uluki couldn’t sense a creature’s moral condition. She could, however, sense injuries, pain, and disease as she healed… obviously, or she would have no way of knowing where to direct her energy. Otherwise, it would be like trying to treat an injury by conventional means while wearing a blindfold. She had to feel the damage to repair it.
There was a lot of damage to this spirit. Taint, corruption— magical disease. This being had been ripped apart by magic, and it was wounded. It was broken. It was so shattered and twisted, it no longer had control. It was in pain. It wasn’t evil. That was a good thing. Uluki had no control over evil. She had weapons against pain and disease. She was that weapon. She could fix this. More energy poured out of her.
The creatures behind her, not particularly strong on their own, had managed to coordinate their efforts, and they dragged Uluki backwards, breaking her hold. It hadn’t been enough. She’d healed some of the taint, but she knew it wasn’t sufficient. It wasn’t done, but her arms weren’t strong enough to resist them all.
The creature she’d been healing screamed, high-pitched and inhuman, more like a wounded animal. It grabbed Uluki by the shoulders… but it didn’t sink in its claws. It screamed again, and with surprising strength, far more than it had before she began healing it, it yanked Uluki back toward it, pressing her against its cold flesh. For a moment she didn’t understand what it was doing, but it quickly dawned on her. It wanted to be healed. She had removed enough of the taint that it had realized it was corrupted. Once it had been able to sense that, it wanted her help. That made things a lot easier. Uluki resumed her healing, now able to concentrate more fully. The creature kept a tight grip on her, not allowing her to be pulled away, though the others continued to claw at her, fairly ineffectually.
Uluki was almost done. She could sense the last of the negative energy, the last of the pain leaving, and she could see a visible difference in the creature. It had darkened; it was no longer the parched white of old bones. As she completed her task, the outlines became distinct. It was no longer… a creature. It was a person, an old woman. She had white hair and wrinkled brown skin, and her dark eyes were kind. Talismans and charms hung around her neck, marking her as a shaman or holy woman. She smiled gratefully at Uluki.
A hand wrapped around Uluki’s throat, the talons poised dangerously to slice into her skin and the flesh beneath. The old woman met Uluki’s eyes and smiled again, then she dove at the creature that was threatening. The embodied being was no match for the powerful healed good spirit. Ancestor spirit, Uluki realized in a moment of clarity.
Rather than harming the wayward creature, the old woman wrapped her strong arms around it and pushed it toward Uluki, still keeping it in check, while blocking the others as well as possible. Their eyes met again, and Uluki nodded. She reached forward with both hands, pouring healing magic into the restrained spirit.
Soon the ancestor spirits would all be restored, Uluki vowed.
-
Lylessa Uluki
- Citizen
- Posts: 669
- Joined: Thu Jun 14, 2007 12:12 am
- Name: Uluki
- Race: Duskling - Fae
As Uluki healed it, the spirit gradually stopped fighting against the old woman. Before long it reached out feebly toward Uluki… and took one of her hands. The old woman released her grip and sought out another spirit to capture; an instant later Uluki felt one of those clawing at her back scrambling to keep its hold, and failing. Once it was in front of her, Uluki reached out with her free hand and began directing energy into it too, still not breaking the healing bond with the creature who was clinging to her. Gradually both shapes darkened and solidified.
Crying out with rage, another spirit shifted from its smoke-like state to corporeal form, and dug its talons into her bare arm that had lost its sleeve. Uluki barely felt the scratches, she was too busy healing. She did, however, notice two things. First of all, she was now absolutely sure that the creatures could not attack her without taking physical form. When they did so, they were also vulnerable to her healing magic.
Her second observation was that the creatures seemed to have no grasp of tactics. Once their taint was healed, they behaved like the people they had been in life— the old woman was helping her quite effectively, and now the others Uluki had healed her joining in her efforts, restraining their fellow spirits and bringing them to be her— but while they remained diseased, they seemed to act only on instinct, or some kind of programmed compulsion. Uluki wasn’t quite sure which, but it clearly worked in her favour.
If the tainted spirits were able to think the situation through, they ought to break off their attack. Yes, Uluki would be free to go, left unharmed, but she would have failed in her mission. To be healed, a creature needed a body. If they had remained in smoke-form, she wouldn’t have been able to affect them. Their conflict would have ended in a draw, and she could have done nothing to prevent them from continuing to attack Nasima and Zamat’s family. The tainted creatures seemed unable to rise to this level of reasoning. Instead they attacked blindly, mindlessly, wave after wave…
And that gave Uluki an idea.
She moved out of the cave, onto the expanse of the steppe, and summoned all the healing energy she could muster, filling her body with it till she was a cup about to overflow, a fountain spilling continuously past the stones that enclosed it. She threw her arms wide, all her flesh exposed to attack. Their claws bit into her. The hands that managed to keep a hold of her for more than a few seconds burned.
But Uluki burned too. There was no visible change in her— no lights, no glow, no dramatic alteration of her form— but the unseen energy burned in her and out of her. She burned like a torch, filling the night with her healing magic, affecting all who touched her. Unable to resist the pull of their compulsion to try to destroy, her attackers broke against her like an angry ocean against a rock. Every attack, every action taken against her healed them, and her magic continuously healed her own wounds too. Gradually there were fewer and fewer ghostly combatants, and more and more healed ancestor spirits gathered around her, approving.
Uluki was expending energy very quickly. It took effort to sustain such magic. She could no longer stand. As she fell to the ground, the last of the tainted spirits dove on her as a group. She couldn’t help but smile; she didn’t have to be able to remain upright to heal. The fact they all attacked at once meant she would spend less energy, and her job would be done that much faster.
And then it was. There were no more attacks, no more tainted pale shadows. Uluki looked around and saw only the ancestors: men and women, young and old, warriors and healers, hunters and gathers and parents… all looking down at her with gratitude and approval.
Uluki smiled up at them, and then lost consciousness.
The good spirits of the ancestors remained in a protective ring around her prone form. Time passed. Then, gradually, they began to move, circling as they had in the cave, but their dance was slow and measured and serene, not the frantic whirlwind it had been before. And Uluki dreamed…
“You said you had a surprise for me when we got back?” Uluki asked Mercedes, curious.
Mercedes smiled. “Yep. Come see.”
Uluki couldn’t even imagine what it might be. She ventured a guess of the first thing that came to mind. “Is it bread?”
Mercedes laughed amiably. “No, you’re the one who bakes bread, not me. Besides, you have plenty of bread. How many loaves did you bake last night, six?”
“Eight.” Uluki was suddenly uncomfortable.
“Still not sleeping?” Mercedes asked sympathetically.
“Not much. I have bad dreams.” To anyone else she would have claimed she was fine, but Mercedes deserved more than protective lies. “About the battle,” she clarified, though it was obvious. Uluki had been through plenty of battles in her life, but fighting a god was something else. That wasn’t what haunted her nightmares, though, not the god. She’d lost friends that day. They both had. And she’d nearly lost everyone she had left, too. Uluki couldn’t close her eyes without seeing Mercedes fall, or Rollick, or Mara lying injured…so she didn’t sleep.
“Well, maybe this will cheer you up. That was the whole point. They’re for you.” Mercedes opened the door to her room.
Uluki gasped with delight. The entire room was full of delicately folded paper birds. Big and small, all different colours… “They’re beautiful!” Uluki exclaimed. “There are so many!”
“A thousand,” Mercedes explained. “To remind you of hope, and completeness. Plus they say if you have a thousand, you get to make a wish.”
Uluki had never heard of folded paper birds granting wishes, and the idea intrigued her. “A wish for me?”
“Yes, a wish for you.” Mercedes was pleased by Uluki’s obvious joy.
Uluki knew what Mercedes expected her to wish for. Mercedes knew the secret. So did Mara— Uluki wasn’t very good at keeping secrets— but Mercedes seemed to understand. Uluki was in love. Not the kind of love you shared… but the kind of love where you do everything you can to keep him from finding out your feelings for him, because you’d only embarrass yourself. If he knew, he might laugh at her, and that would break her. She’d given him too much of her heart, and she couldn’t bear to be laughed at for it. Nor could she bear his pity. Uluki knew it was a foolish crush. She couldn’t help feeling fluttery about him, but he’d never feel the same way about her, not in a thousand years. He cared for her as a friend, there was no doubt about that. He always spoke kindly and said nice things to her, and he had hugged her when she gave him the sweater she knitted for him. Uluki treasured that hug… but she knew there could never be anything more. He was brave and strong and smart, and she was silly and useless and unimportant. She doubted he even noticed her. Worse still, she was stained and scarred and broken. She had nothing left to give him, nothing that would be good enough. No, he wouldn’t be her wish. The idea that Rollick would ever consider Uluki worth loving was just too ridiculous. She wouldn’t waste her paper bird wish on that.
What she couldn’t have didn’t matter, because there was so much she did have. She had such wonderful friends. Uluki was completely overwhelmed that Mercedes cared so much about her that she’d spent all that time and effort to give Uluki her wish. She’d never had a friend like that. Having someone care so much made her feel warm inside. In spite of everything, she was happy. She was the happiest she’d ever been in her life, but she hadn’t realized it till she saw the paper birds. Uluki smiled, and knew what she would ask the birds for.
“I wish the people I love... my friends, the people who are my family now... would stay safe,” she told the birds. “I want you to protect Mercedes and Rollick and Mara, and don’t let anything bad happen to them. That’s my wish.”
The paper birds had granted her wish. The three people she had asked them to protect were still alive, safe and happy. Mercedes had continued to be a good friend, always worthy of her trust. A new sister, a new family.
Not abandoned, not alone…
She was in her wedding dress, a bouquet of wild flowers clutched nervously in her hands. What if he changed his mind? What if he said in front of everyone that it had all been a mistake, that she’d misunderstood? What if he wasn’t there at all?
Her dress was beautiful, she knew that. Mercedes had designed it for her, and they’d sewn it together. Uluki hadn’t been sure white was appropriate, but Mercedes had gently insisted. The church was beautiful too, all decked out with flowers. It wasn’t her religion, but the priest was a kind man, and she had wanted him to be the one who performed her marriage. Everything was perfect, just the way she had hoped…
But what if Rollick changed his mind? What if he decided he didn’t want her after all?
The aisle suddenly seemed so long… but he was waiting there for her. She started to walk.
As she got closer to him, she saw the look on his face, his reaction to seeing her in her wedding dress. He obviously thought she looked nice, but there was so much more. So much love. So much joy. The opposite of the regret she expected to see there, the disappointment she had braced herself for. He wanted her to be with him. He was glad it was forever. He wanted that bond. She was cherished. She would never forget the love she saw on his face in that moment…
She hadn’t forgotten it. It was burned into her memory, a permanent talisman against pain. A sort of anti-scar.
He still smiled at her. He still held her. Ten years, and he still loved her just as much as he had in her wedding dress, standing in the church with wild flowers in her hand.
Loved…
“Well, you could stay… if you wanted,” Uluki suggested cautiously.
Dash looked startled. “We’ve already been here for weeks. Aren’t you tired of having guests?”
They weren’t, actually. People often stayed at Uluki and Rollick’s house, sometimes for extended periods of time. They were used to having guests around. That hadn’t been what Uluki intended, though. “I didn’t mean stay as guests. I meant... you don’t have any family. Rollick and I talked about it, and we thought... well, we enjoy having you here. You seem like part of our family now. I was thinking you could be. Be our daughters, I mean. If you wanted.” Clumsy, that had been clumsy. Uluki hadn’t been sure how to approach the subject, but she could have done better than that.
“You’d be our mama? Like you’re Martin’s mama? And Rollick would be our father?” Zee asked.
“Well, yes, although you’re young women, and Martin is only a baby. You’re fully able to make choices on your own, and Martin isn’t. But Rollick and I could be your parents. If you wanted…” Uluki repeated.
“Alright!” Zee agreed immediately, and seemed enthusiastic about the prospect.
Dash was more cautious. “Do we have to be your soldiers? Are you going to use us to fight your battles?”
“No, we would never make you do that.” Uluki was taken aback by the question. She’d asked about being their parents, not… oh. Their other father had. “You’d be our family. It doesn’t mean we would own you. It wouldn’t be any different from now, it would just be… settled. For as long as you wanted.”
“Do you love us?” Dash asked abruptly.
“Of course we do,” Uluki answered immediately, surprised.
She was even more surprised when Dash’s eyes filled with tears. Uluki had never seen Dash cry, not even when she described the horrors she’d been through. “I want to be your daughter,” Dash whispered, and threw her arms around Uluki…
Such sweet dreams. These were healing dreams. They weren’t like the passive nightmares she saw in the cave. They were good memories of weakness turning to strength, doubt to hope.
Uluki was reminded that she was safe, accepted, loved. No more fear, no more pain. She slept, and her body restored itself, renewing its spent strength, as the good spirits of the ancestors maintained their watchful circle around her.
Crying out with rage, another spirit shifted from its smoke-like state to corporeal form, and dug its talons into her bare arm that had lost its sleeve. Uluki barely felt the scratches, she was too busy healing. She did, however, notice two things. First of all, she was now absolutely sure that the creatures could not attack her without taking physical form. When they did so, they were also vulnerable to her healing magic.
Her second observation was that the creatures seemed to have no grasp of tactics. Once their taint was healed, they behaved like the people they had been in life— the old woman was helping her quite effectively, and now the others Uluki had healed her joining in her efforts, restraining their fellow spirits and bringing them to be her— but while they remained diseased, they seemed to act only on instinct, or some kind of programmed compulsion. Uluki wasn’t quite sure which, but it clearly worked in her favour.
If the tainted spirits were able to think the situation through, they ought to break off their attack. Yes, Uluki would be free to go, left unharmed, but she would have failed in her mission. To be healed, a creature needed a body. If they had remained in smoke-form, she wouldn’t have been able to affect them. Their conflict would have ended in a draw, and she could have done nothing to prevent them from continuing to attack Nasima and Zamat’s family. The tainted creatures seemed unable to rise to this level of reasoning. Instead they attacked blindly, mindlessly, wave after wave…
And that gave Uluki an idea.
She moved out of the cave, onto the expanse of the steppe, and summoned all the healing energy she could muster, filling her body with it till she was a cup about to overflow, a fountain spilling continuously past the stones that enclosed it. She threw her arms wide, all her flesh exposed to attack. Their claws bit into her. The hands that managed to keep a hold of her for more than a few seconds burned.
But Uluki burned too. There was no visible change in her— no lights, no glow, no dramatic alteration of her form— but the unseen energy burned in her and out of her. She burned like a torch, filling the night with her healing magic, affecting all who touched her. Unable to resist the pull of their compulsion to try to destroy, her attackers broke against her like an angry ocean against a rock. Every attack, every action taken against her healed them, and her magic continuously healed her own wounds too. Gradually there were fewer and fewer ghostly combatants, and more and more healed ancestor spirits gathered around her, approving.
Uluki was expending energy very quickly. It took effort to sustain such magic. She could no longer stand. As she fell to the ground, the last of the tainted spirits dove on her as a group. She couldn’t help but smile; she didn’t have to be able to remain upright to heal. The fact they all attacked at once meant she would spend less energy, and her job would be done that much faster.
And then it was. There were no more attacks, no more tainted pale shadows. Uluki looked around and saw only the ancestors: men and women, young and old, warriors and healers, hunters and gathers and parents… all looking down at her with gratitude and approval.
Uluki smiled up at them, and then lost consciousness.
The good spirits of the ancestors remained in a protective ring around her prone form. Time passed. Then, gradually, they began to move, circling as they had in the cave, but their dance was slow and measured and serene, not the frantic whirlwind it had been before. And Uluki dreamed…
“You said you had a surprise for me when we got back?” Uluki asked Mercedes, curious.
Mercedes smiled. “Yep. Come see.”
Uluki couldn’t even imagine what it might be. She ventured a guess of the first thing that came to mind. “Is it bread?”
Mercedes laughed amiably. “No, you’re the one who bakes bread, not me. Besides, you have plenty of bread. How many loaves did you bake last night, six?”
“Eight.” Uluki was suddenly uncomfortable.
“Still not sleeping?” Mercedes asked sympathetically.
“Not much. I have bad dreams.” To anyone else she would have claimed she was fine, but Mercedes deserved more than protective lies. “About the battle,” she clarified, though it was obvious. Uluki had been through plenty of battles in her life, but fighting a god was something else. That wasn’t what haunted her nightmares, though, not the god. She’d lost friends that day. They both had. And she’d nearly lost everyone she had left, too. Uluki couldn’t close her eyes without seeing Mercedes fall, or Rollick, or Mara lying injured…so she didn’t sleep.
“Well, maybe this will cheer you up. That was the whole point. They’re for you.” Mercedes opened the door to her room.
Uluki gasped with delight. The entire room was full of delicately folded paper birds. Big and small, all different colours… “They’re beautiful!” Uluki exclaimed. “There are so many!”
“A thousand,” Mercedes explained. “To remind you of hope, and completeness. Plus they say if you have a thousand, you get to make a wish.”
Uluki had never heard of folded paper birds granting wishes, and the idea intrigued her. “A wish for me?”
“Yes, a wish for you.” Mercedes was pleased by Uluki’s obvious joy.
Uluki knew what Mercedes expected her to wish for. Mercedes knew the secret. So did Mara— Uluki wasn’t very good at keeping secrets— but Mercedes seemed to understand. Uluki was in love. Not the kind of love you shared… but the kind of love where you do everything you can to keep him from finding out your feelings for him, because you’d only embarrass yourself. If he knew, he might laugh at her, and that would break her. She’d given him too much of her heart, and she couldn’t bear to be laughed at for it. Nor could she bear his pity. Uluki knew it was a foolish crush. She couldn’t help feeling fluttery about him, but he’d never feel the same way about her, not in a thousand years. He cared for her as a friend, there was no doubt about that. He always spoke kindly and said nice things to her, and he had hugged her when she gave him the sweater she knitted for him. Uluki treasured that hug… but she knew there could never be anything more. He was brave and strong and smart, and she was silly and useless and unimportant. She doubted he even noticed her. Worse still, she was stained and scarred and broken. She had nothing left to give him, nothing that would be good enough. No, he wouldn’t be her wish. The idea that Rollick would ever consider Uluki worth loving was just too ridiculous. She wouldn’t waste her paper bird wish on that.
What she couldn’t have didn’t matter, because there was so much she did have. She had such wonderful friends. Uluki was completely overwhelmed that Mercedes cared so much about her that she’d spent all that time and effort to give Uluki her wish. She’d never had a friend like that. Having someone care so much made her feel warm inside. In spite of everything, she was happy. She was the happiest she’d ever been in her life, but she hadn’t realized it till she saw the paper birds. Uluki smiled, and knew what she would ask the birds for.
“I wish the people I love... my friends, the people who are my family now... would stay safe,” she told the birds. “I want you to protect Mercedes and Rollick and Mara, and don’t let anything bad happen to them. That’s my wish.”
The paper birds had granted her wish. The three people she had asked them to protect were still alive, safe and happy. Mercedes had continued to be a good friend, always worthy of her trust. A new sister, a new family.
Not abandoned, not alone…
She was in her wedding dress, a bouquet of wild flowers clutched nervously in her hands. What if he changed his mind? What if he said in front of everyone that it had all been a mistake, that she’d misunderstood? What if he wasn’t there at all?
Her dress was beautiful, she knew that. Mercedes had designed it for her, and they’d sewn it together. Uluki hadn’t been sure white was appropriate, but Mercedes had gently insisted. The church was beautiful too, all decked out with flowers. It wasn’t her religion, but the priest was a kind man, and she had wanted him to be the one who performed her marriage. Everything was perfect, just the way she had hoped…
But what if Rollick changed his mind? What if he decided he didn’t want her after all?
The aisle suddenly seemed so long… but he was waiting there for her. She started to walk.
As she got closer to him, she saw the look on his face, his reaction to seeing her in her wedding dress. He obviously thought she looked nice, but there was so much more. So much love. So much joy. The opposite of the regret she expected to see there, the disappointment she had braced herself for. He wanted her to be with him. He was glad it was forever. He wanted that bond. She was cherished. She would never forget the love she saw on his face in that moment…
She hadn’t forgotten it. It was burned into her memory, a permanent talisman against pain. A sort of anti-scar.
He still smiled at her. He still held her. Ten years, and he still loved her just as much as he had in her wedding dress, standing in the church with wild flowers in her hand.
Loved…
“Well, you could stay… if you wanted,” Uluki suggested cautiously.
Dash looked startled. “We’ve already been here for weeks. Aren’t you tired of having guests?”
They weren’t, actually. People often stayed at Uluki and Rollick’s house, sometimes for extended periods of time. They were used to having guests around. That hadn’t been what Uluki intended, though. “I didn’t mean stay as guests. I meant... you don’t have any family. Rollick and I talked about it, and we thought... well, we enjoy having you here. You seem like part of our family now. I was thinking you could be. Be our daughters, I mean. If you wanted.” Clumsy, that had been clumsy. Uluki hadn’t been sure how to approach the subject, but she could have done better than that.
“You’d be our mama? Like you’re Martin’s mama? And Rollick would be our father?” Zee asked.
“Well, yes, although you’re young women, and Martin is only a baby. You’re fully able to make choices on your own, and Martin isn’t. But Rollick and I could be your parents. If you wanted…” Uluki repeated.
“Alright!” Zee agreed immediately, and seemed enthusiastic about the prospect.
Dash was more cautious. “Do we have to be your soldiers? Are you going to use us to fight your battles?”
“No, we would never make you do that.” Uluki was taken aback by the question. She’d asked about being their parents, not… oh. Their other father had. “You’d be our family. It doesn’t mean we would own you. It wouldn’t be any different from now, it would just be… settled. For as long as you wanted.”
“Do you love us?” Dash asked abruptly.
“Of course we do,” Uluki answered immediately, surprised.
She was even more surprised when Dash’s eyes filled with tears. Uluki had never seen Dash cry, not even when she described the horrors she’d been through. “I want to be your daughter,” Dash whispered, and threw her arms around Uluki…
Such sweet dreams. These were healing dreams. They weren’t like the passive nightmares she saw in the cave. They were good memories of weakness turning to strength, doubt to hope.
Uluki was reminded that she was safe, accepted, loved. No more fear, no more pain. She slept, and her body restored itself, renewing its spent strength, as the good spirits of the ancestors maintained their watchful circle around her.
-
Lylessa Uluki
- Citizen
- Posts: 669
- Joined: Thu Jun 14, 2007 12:12 am
- Name: Uluki
- Race: Duskling - Fae
Uluki awoke a few hours later. She was very sore and still had a few scrapes and scratches, but she was able to heal them quickly, though using even that small amount of magic took more effort than it should have after all the energy she expended the night before. The injuries were superficial, and she could have left them to heal on their own without any danger, she could have conserved her strength, but she didn’t want Rollick and the girls to see her in that condition. There was nothing she could do about the state of her dress at the moment, and even once she sewed it back together it would be little more than rags; seeing that would worry and upset them enough. They would know she had been injured, but she wouldn’t force them to look at cuts and bruises for the sake of conserving a little magic.
Uluki shivered. She was so very, very cold. She had a blanket back in the cave, which would help somewhat, but the problem wasn’t the temperature. Uluki was always cold after using a lot of magic. Her energy was that of fire, and light, and heat. When large amounts of it drained out of her body, it left her shivering, and her skin cold to the touch. She simply wasn’t able to produce enough heat to keep herself warm, not till she’d had plenty of rest and the lost energy had replaced itself. A few hours lying unconscious out on the steppe just hadn’t done that, though her dreams had calmed her and made her mind more relaxed and focused.
The sky had not yet begun to lighten, but she had rested enough for the time being. Uluki stood up and brushed the dry, sandy dirt off her dress. She thought she could detect a faint whispering that made her believe the ancestors were still there, and she hoped that was true. She hadn’t forgotten them watching over her while she slept.
The blanket was still in the cave, along with the small amount of food she’d brought, her water skin, and her flint and steel. She lit another fire; she hadn’t noticed exactly when the first one went out, but she thought it must have been at some point during her confrontation with the spirits. She ate her food and drank some water, then began another examination of the cave.
Some remnants of the symbols remained on the walls, but they did not glow any longer. Instead, they seemed to have turned to ash. The ash did not adhere well to the dry walls of the cave, so it was rapidly falling away. Uluki suspected that by daybreak, there would no longer be any trace of the strange writing. She also noted with some measure of disappointment that the sleeve which had been ripped from her dress was nowhere to be seen. She had hoped to find it so she could sew it back on. Oh well.
Uluki saw nothing else of interest, so she returned to her fire and wrapped herself in her blanket. That warmed her up, although she wished she was home. When she got cold like this Rollick would hold her, his own body heat making up for her expended energy. Her fire could take the chill away, but not replace that closeness, that comfort. It would do for now, of course, but she missed him.
She missed Dash, Zee, and Martin, too. They would all be sleeping peacefully now. She was glad they were secure at home, and looked forward to joining them once the long night was over. Though selfishly it would be nice to have Rollick with her, she was glad he was there to keep them safe. All the other warriors would do their utmost to protect them too, Uluki knew, but she was still happy their father was with them…
Uluki saw the faintest outline of a figure seated across the fire from her. At first she was concerned, but as it gradually became clearer, she saw it was the shape of the old woman, the first spirit she had healed. The first one who had helped her. “Welcome back,” Uluki said cheerfully.
“We were never gone,” the old woman’s voice was kind, and held the hints of the vast wisdom she carried. “You could not see us, but we were here the whole time. This cave is our place. We should not leave it. We never have, except…”
“Except when you were hurt. Why did you leave then?”
“It’s hard to remember. It was like a fever dream. We were not ourselves.”
“I know. But do you have any memory of what happened? You said Nasima and Zamat didn’t displease you.”
“No, they didn’t.” The old woman looked sad. “It was not their fault. They were our victims because we belong to them, and they to us. They are our kin, our descendants. We are bound to them, through good or bad.”
Uluki nodded. Bound through good and bad, that’s what family was. She supposed the ties between the living and the dead were no different. “Why did things get bad?”
“The Guest. He brought the evil with him. He changed us. He turned us…” The old woman moved her hands in a slow, serpentine motion, and Uluki could suddenly see it in the fire as though through a window.
Another fire had been lit in the darkened cave, this time by a man in rich burgundy robes. It was odd garb for a traveler, though he wore thick, well-cut riding boots. He opened his bag...
“He had food,” Uluki said aloud. Among his assorted belongings, he had bread and dried meat, and even a few pieces of fresh fruit. Those must have been expensive, and he couldn’t have traveled far with them. “He lied to Zamat.”
“He did,” the woman agreed. “He knew they would be generous if he told them he had need.”
“Why did he deceive them? Why ask for food if he didn’t need it?” Uluki supposed it could be just greed, but it seemed rather arbitrary.
“Because if he ate their food and shared their fire, he would be their guest. Then they would not speak ill of him, would not question his motives. Of course, he underestimated them. Their culture teaches them to be hospitable, but they are neither blind nor fools.”
“So he lied just so they wouldn’t tell anyone about him? What did he want with them in the first place?”
“There was a second reason for his lie. He was not wandering the steppe. He came to this place very deliberately.”
“The fruit. He had fresh fruit. He must have come straight from Marn.”
“Yes, he did. He did not come for the family. He came for the cave. He was most disappointed to find them camped there, but they had come to bring us offerings. Their presence made his plan more difficult. Once they had seen him, he couldn’t just suddenly leave without explanation, and it would have seemed odd to camp close by without speaking to them. And of course, if they saw him in the cave in the middle of the night…”
Uluki understood, her own nomadic upbringing influencing her view of the situation. “So instead he camped with them, so he could claim rights as a guest, and no one would think it was suspicious he was hanging around. Then if they saw him going into the cave— and they did— he could just claim curiosity, and it would not seem he’d come for that purpose. He could still pretend he was just passing by.”
“Indeed. Look again, and see what he did.”
Uluki looked back into the fire.
The man had his own fire burning strongly now, illuminating the walls of the cave. He was mixing things in a small pot… Uluki couldn’t tell exactly what. He removed what looked like a dead chicken from his bag and plunged a knife into it, releasing a steady trickle of blood into the pot. As the blood disturbed the surface of the liquid, it turned blue and began to glow. The man looked up from his work…
Uluki recognized him. Well… not really recognized. She couldn’t place him, but she was certain she’d seen him before. She just couldn’t remember where.
He had grey hair, like Rollick, but he looked many years older than her husband. Uluki had difficulty, as usual, telling human age, but she would have guessed he was close to seventy. His skin was pale— too pale, he didn’t look healthy. He looked like a plant deprived of sunlight. The man’s eyes were also odd. They were yellow, almost like a cat. Uluki tried and failed to remember where she’d seen him before…
He was drawing on the walls, his fingers tracing the symbols Uluki had seen...
His fingers. He must be a magic user. Uluki wasn’t surprised, but it now it was certain.
He was finished, and was speaking. “Oh spirits of the ancestors,” he called, his voice businesslike rather than reverent. “You will serve my purpose now. An experiment in corruption, in taint, in diseases of the soul. You will attack, because it will be all you know, all you are able to. Understand that certain sacrifices must be made to advance humanity’s knowledge of magic. Your sacrifice will not go unappreciated. And I assure you, ancestor spirits, you will be remembered, once my work is made known…”
The vision faded, and Uluki saw nothing but crackling flames. She was horrified. “It was just an experiment? He did it… just to see what would happen?”
“Yes. He is working on a project, and he felt this… test… would assist in his ongoing work.”
“What kind of project?”
“He never said, and such things are beyond our knowledge. I can’t imagine it is anything good.”
“I agree.” Uluki would need to look into this further. She just wasn’t sure how.
“We— the ancestor spirits— are grateful for your help. Can you do us one other favour?”
“Of course.” Uluki hoped it wouldn’t involve more scratching.
“Tell them what happened. Zamat, Nasima, Shuli, Loie… tell them we did not mean to harm them. Tell them we are grateful for the care they take of us, and their respect. We appreciate their offerings, but even more the remembrance. Please tell them we are sorry, and ask them not to abandon us, their family. Remind them that we are bound together, through good and bad.”
“I will. I promise.” It was a promise Uluki would be happy to keep.
Uluki shivered. She was so very, very cold. She had a blanket back in the cave, which would help somewhat, but the problem wasn’t the temperature. Uluki was always cold after using a lot of magic. Her energy was that of fire, and light, and heat. When large amounts of it drained out of her body, it left her shivering, and her skin cold to the touch. She simply wasn’t able to produce enough heat to keep herself warm, not till she’d had plenty of rest and the lost energy had replaced itself. A few hours lying unconscious out on the steppe just hadn’t done that, though her dreams had calmed her and made her mind more relaxed and focused.
The sky had not yet begun to lighten, but she had rested enough for the time being. Uluki stood up and brushed the dry, sandy dirt off her dress. She thought she could detect a faint whispering that made her believe the ancestors were still there, and she hoped that was true. She hadn’t forgotten them watching over her while she slept.
The blanket was still in the cave, along with the small amount of food she’d brought, her water skin, and her flint and steel. She lit another fire; she hadn’t noticed exactly when the first one went out, but she thought it must have been at some point during her confrontation with the spirits. She ate her food and drank some water, then began another examination of the cave.
Some remnants of the symbols remained on the walls, but they did not glow any longer. Instead, they seemed to have turned to ash. The ash did not adhere well to the dry walls of the cave, so it was rapidly falling away. Uluki suspected that by daybreak, there would no longer be any trace of the strange writing. She also noted with some measure of disappointment that the sleeve which had been ripped from her dress was nowhere to be seen. She had hoped to find it so she could sew it back on. Oh well.
Uluki saw nothing else of interest, so she returned to her fire and wrapped herself in her blanket. That warmed her up, although she wished she was home. When she got cold like this Rollick would hold her, his own body heat making up for her expended energy. Her fire could take the chill away, but not replace that closeness, that comfort. It would do for now, of course, but she missed him.
She missed Dash, Zee, and Martin, too. They would all be sleeping peacefully now. She was glad they were secure at home, and looked forward to joining them once the long night was over. Though selfishly it would be nice to have Rollick with her, she was glad he was there to keep them safe. All the other warriors would do their utmost to protect them too, Uluki knew, but she was still happy their father was with them…
Uluki saw the faintest outline of a figure seated across the fire from her. At first she was concerned, but as it gradually became clearer, she saw it was the shape of the old woman, the first spirit she had healed. The first one who had helped her. “Welcome back,” Uluki said cheerfully.
“We were never gone,” the old woman’s voice was kind, and held the hints of the vast wisdom she carried. “You could not see us, but we were here the whole time. This cave is our place. We should not leave it. We never have, except…”
“Except when you were hurt. Why did you leave then?”
“It’s hard to remember. It was like a fever dream. We were not ourselves.”
“I know. But do you have any memory of what happened? You said Nasima and Zamat didn’t displease you.”
“No, they didn’t.” The old woman looked sad. “It was not their fault. They were our victims because we belong to them, and they to us. They are our kin, our descendants. We are bound to them, through good or bad.”
Uluki nodded. Bound through good and bad, that’s what family was. She supposed the ties between the living and the dead were no different. “Why did things get bad?”
“The Guest. He brought the evil with him. He changed us. He turned us…” The old woman moved her hands in a slow, serpentine motion, and Uluki could suddenly see it in the fire as though through a window.
Another fire had been lit in the darkened cave, this time by a man in rich burgundy robes. It was odd garb for a traveler, though he wore thick, well-cut riding boots. He opened his bag...
“He had food,” Uluki said aloud. Among his assorted belongings, he had bread and dried meat, and even a few pieces of fresh fruit. Those must have been expensive, and he couldn’t have traveled far with them. “He lied to Zamat.”
“He did,” the woman agreed. “He knew they would be generous if he told them he had need.”
“Why did he deceive them? Why ask for food if he didn’t need it?” Uluki supposed it could be just greed, but it seemed rather arbitrary.
“Because if he ate their food and shared their fire, he would be their guest. Then they would not speak ill of him, would not question his motives. Of course, he underestimated them. Their culture teaches them to be hospitable, but they are neither blind nor fools.”
“So he lied just so they wouldn’t tell anyone about him? What did he want with them in the first place?”
“There was a second reason for his lie. He was not wandering the steppe. He came to this place very deliberately.”
“The fruit. He had fresh fruit. He must have come straight from Marn.”
“Yes, he did. He did not come for the family. He came for the cave. He was most disappointed to find them camped there, but they had come to bring us offerings. Their presence made his plan more difficult. Once they had seen him, he couldn’t just suddenly leave without explanation, and it would have seemed odd to camp close by without speaking to them. And of course, if they saw him in the cave in the middle of the night…”
Uluki understood, her own nomadic upbringing influencing her view of the situation. “So instead he camped with them, so he could claim rights as a guest, and no one would think it was suspicious he was hanging around. Then if they saw him going into the cave— and they did— he could just claim curiosity, and it would not seem he’d come for that purpose. He could still pretend he was just passing by.”
“Indeed. Look again, and see what he did.”
Uluki looked back into the fire.
The man had his own fire burning strongly now, illuminating the walls of the cave. He was mixing things in a small pot… Uluki couldn’t tell exactly what. He removed what looked like a dead chicken from his bag and plunged a knife into it, releasing a steady trickle of blood into the pot. As the blood disturbed the surface of the liquid, it turned blue and began to glow. The man looked up from his work…
Uluki recognized him. Well… not really recognized. She couldn’t place him, but she was certain she’d seen him before. She just couldn’t remember where.
He had grey hair, like Rollick, but he looked many years older than her husband. Uluki had difficulty, as usual, telling human age, but she would have guessed he was close to seventy. His skin was pale— too pale, he didn’t look healthy. He looked like a plant deprived of sunlight. The man’s eyes were also odd. They were yellow, almost like a cat. Uluki tried and failed to remember where she’d seen him before…
He was drawing on the walls, his fingers tracing the symbols Uluki had seen...
His fingers. He must be a magic user. Uluki wasn’t surprised, but it now it was certain.
He was finished, and was speaking. “Oh spirits of the ancestors,” he called, his voice businesslike rather than reverent. “You will serve my purpose now. An experiment in corruption, in taint, in diseases of the soul. You will attack, because it will be all you know, all you are able to. Understand that certain sacrifices must be made to advance humanity’s knowledge of magic. Your sacrifice will not go unappreciated. And I assure you, ancestor spirits, you will be remembered, once my work is made known…”
The vision faded, and Uluki saw nothing but crackling flames. She was horrified. “It was just an experiment? He did it… just to see what would happen?”
“Yes. He is working on a project, and he felt this… test… would assist in his ongoing work.”
“What kind of project?”
“He never said, and such things are beyond our knowledge. I can’t imagine it is anything good.”
“I agree.” Uluki would need to look into this further. She just wasn’t sure how.
“We— the ancestor spirits— are grateful for your help. Can you do us one other favour?”
“Of course.” Uluki hoped it wouldn’t involve more scratching.
“Tell them what happened. Zamat, Nasima, Shuli, Loie… tell them we did not mean to harm them. Tell them we are grateful for the care they take of us, and their respect. We appreciate their offerings, but even more the remembrance. Please tell them we are sorry, and ask them not to abandon us, their family. Remind them that we are bound together, through good and bad.”
“I will. I promise.” It was a promise Uluki would be happy to keep.
-
Lylessa Uluki
- Citizen
- Posts: 669
- Joined: Thu Jun 14, 2007 12:12 am
- Name: Uluki
- Race: Duskling - Fae
After Uluki agreed to the old woman’s request, the spirit faded away again into the darkness. Uluki doubted she would see the ancestors again that night, though they would be there in the cave with her. She curled up to try to sleep, but it was difficult. Her exhaustion had passed, and though she was still tired, she was now aware of the thinness of her blanket and the hardness of the ground. She’d be back with her family soon, she reminded herself. After ten years of marriage— the majority of the nights of which had been spent at home— it was hard to sleep well by herself under the best of circumstances, let alone on the dirt floor of a cave in the middle of nowhere.
She was about to give up the attempt, but she finally dozed off. It was only a light sleep she fell into, but any rest she could get was a more productive use of her time than just sitting and waiting.
The first thing Uluki saw when she awoke was two pairs of boots. She’d been sleeping with her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her body, curled up like a burrowing animal. She was sore again, not from her injuries, which were now fully healed, but from her tight position combined with the hard ground. Her eyes traveled from the boots to legs, then up to recognize Zamat and Nasima looking down at her. She scrambled to her feet, accepting Nasima’s hand to assist her.
“It’s not morning yet,” Uluki said, embarrassed to have been caught asleep. That was hardly likely to establish confidence in her as a shaman.
The two of them looked embarrassed too. “We were going to come back for you when you said, but… Nasima was worried about you,” Zamat explained.
Nasima, just out of the line of his peripheral vision, shook her head and jerked her thumb toward her husband, mouthing, “Him.”
Uluki couldn’t help but smile. Regardless of which of them had worried— and she suspected it had been more mutual than either was letting on— it was kind of them to think of her, someone they didn’t even know. “Where are your children? Are they alright?”
“They’re fine,” Zamat reassured her. “We took them back to Marn.”
“We wanted them to be safe, of course, but it felt wrong to leave you all by yourself,” Nasima explained further. “We left the children with Zamat’s aunt’s brother-by-marriage, and came back to try to help. The ride isn’t so short, though, so we couldn’t get back before this.”
Uluki suddenly remembered something. “The other horse, I forgot about him…”
“He’s fine. He was still tethered right where we left him,” Zamat said with a smile. “But what about you, wise one? Are you… oh my…”
Uluki had begun to fold her blanket, and they could see the rips in her dress, and of course the blood stains. “Not an easy night,” she admitted. “Everything is alright now, though.”
“You were sleeping. They never let us sleep. When we saw you, we thought they must not have come, but… the scratches! What happened? Did you get rid of the evil spirits?” Nasima sounded more frightened than hopeful.
“There were no evil spirits.” Uluki’s voice was weary. “Only your ancestors. The man who was your guest did something bad to them. Nasima was right. I don’t understand exactly what he did, but he had control over them. It was like they had a disease. A disease that made them act a certain way, a way they didn’t want to. Do you understand?” They nodded. They had seen diseases that made their victims act differently. Uluki continued her explanation. “They’re better now, though. I’m a healer first and foremost, and I was able to fix their disease. They’re back to themselves. They said they’re sorry, that they didn’t mean to do it, and that they hope you will forgive them, and still be their family even though there were bad times. It won’t happen anymore.”
Uluki hadn’t been sure how they would react to this, but they seemed relieved. “I’m glad,” said Zamat quietly. “We didn’t want our ancestors to be gone.” Nasima nodded her agreement. “How can we repay you, wise one?”
Uluki dug her toe into the dirt, suddenly uncomfortable. “You don’t need to. I was glad to help.”
“But we took you away from your family. We put you in danger. You bled for us.”
“Really, it’s alright…” People didn’t usually care about Uluki bleeding for them; this reaction was a surprise. Fae blood wasn’t worth much to most people.
That answer didn’t seem to satisfy them. Where Uluki saw a service she was not only happy to provide, but that her gifts obligated her to offer to anyone in need, the two of them clearly saw a debt unpaid. Uluki was sympathetic, but saw little she could do to resolve the issue. “You can do something to help me someday, alright? For now, just enjoy your peace. Enjoy your family. All of your family.”
“We did have one thing we wanted to… it’s a small thing, but…” Zamat pointed to two sacks. “It’s food. Dried meat, and dried fruit.”
“You don’t need to.”
He dismissed her objection. “We can spare it easily. It feels right to do something, and that would be…” His sentence trailed off.
Uluki quickly accepted. The food would be helpful, and if she didn’t agree to take it, they would keep trying to give her other things, things that would be a much greater loss. “Thank you. That is kind.”
“We are grateful for your help. If you’re ready, we can take you back to your family.”
“Yes please.” Uluki was very, very ready to go home.
She was about to give up the attempt, but she finally dozed off. It was only a light sleep she fell into, but any rest she could get was a more productive use of her time than just sitting and waiting.
The first thing Uluki saw when she awoke was two pairs of boots. She’d been sleeping with her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her body, curled up like a burrowing animal. She was sore again, not from her injuries, which were now fully healed, but from her tight position combined with the hard ground. Her eyes traveled from the boots to legs, then up to recognize Zamat and Nasima looking down at her. She scrambled to her feet, accepting Nasima’s hand to assist her.
“It’s not morning yet,” Uluki said, embarrassed to have been caught asleep. That was hardly likely to establish confidence in her as a shaman.
The two of them looked embarrassed too. “We were going to come back for you when you said, but… Nasima was worried about you,” Zamat explained.
Nasima, just out of the line of his peripheral vision, shook her head and jerked her thumb toward her husband, mouthing, “Him.”
Uluki couldn’t help but smile. Regardless of which of them had worried— and she suspected it had been more mutual than either was letting on— it was kind of them to think of her, someone they didn’t even know. “Where are your children? Are they alright?”
“They’re fine,” Zamat reassured her. “We took them back to Marn.”
“We wanted them to be safe, of course, but it felt wrong to leave you all by yourself,” Nasima explained further. “We left the children with Zamat’s aunt’s brother-by-marriage, and came back to try to help. The ride isn’t so short, though, so we couldn’t get back before this.”
Uluki suddenly remembered something. “The other horse, I forgot about him…”
“He’s fine. He was still tethered right where we left him,” Zamat said with a smile. “But what about you, wise one? Are you… oh my…”
Uluki had begun to fold her blanket, and they could see the rips in her dress, and of course the blood stains. “Not an easy night,” she admitted. “Everything is alright now, though.”
“You were sleeping. They never let us sleep. When we saw you, we thought they must not have come, but… the scratches! What happened? Did you get rid of the evil spirits?” Nasima sounded more frightened than hopeful.
“There were no evil spirits.” Uluki’s voice was weary. “Only your ancestors. The man who was your guest did something bad to them. Nasima was right. I don’t understand exactly what he did, but he had control over them. It was like they had a disease. A disease that made them act a certain way, a way they didn’t want to. Do you understand?” They nodded. They had seen diseases that made their victims act differently. Uluki continued her explanation. “They’re better now, though. I’m a healer first and foremost, and I was able to fix their disease. They’re back to themselves. They said they’re sorry, that they didn’t mean to do it, and that they hope you will forgive them, and still be their family even though there were bad times. It won’t happen anymore.”
Uluki hadn’t been sure how they would react to this, but they seemed relieved. “I’m glad,” said Zamat quietly. “We didn’t want our ancestors to be gone.” Nasima nodded her agreement. “How can we repay you, wise one?”
Uluki dug her toe into the dirt, suddenly uncomfortable. “You don’t need to. I was glad to help.”
“But we took you away from your family. We put you in danger. You bled for us.”
“Really, it’s alright…” People didn’t usually care about Uluki bleeding for them; this reaction was a surprise. Fae blood wasn’t worth much to most people.
That answer didn’t seem to satisfy them. Where Uluki saw a service she was not only happy to provide, but that her gifts obligated her to offer to anyone in need, the two of them clearly saw a debt unpaid. Uluki was sympathetic, but saw little she could do to resolve the issue. “You can do something to help me someday, alright? For now, just enjoy your peace. Enjoy your family. All of your family.”
“We did have one thing we wanted to… it’s a small thing, but…” Zamat pointed to two sacks. “It’s food. Dried meat, and dried fruit.”
“You don’t need to.”
He dismissed her objection. “We can spare it easily. It feels right to do something, and that would be…” His sentence trailed off.
Uluki quickly accepted. The food would be helpful, and if she didn’t agree to take it, they would keep trying to give her other things, things that would be a much greater loss. “Thank you. That is kind.”
“We are grateful for your help. If you’re ready, we can take you back to your family.”
“Yes please.” Uluki was very, very ready to go home.