Four
The Girian Province
Surviving beyond the Black Walls was nigh impossible. The deserts spanned for hundreds, maybe thousands, of miles beneath the sun’s beating rays, revealing the harsh existence of the province. It was believed that the desert spanned the entire globe, void of all life except in the Girian lands. No Girian settlements could survive out in the province, many higher echelons attempted to grow red crops only for them to dry from the heat or be poisoned by the soil. Explorers would become weaker being away from the city, easily susceptible to illness and fatigue, and unable to hold down food that came from outside the walls. The described an insatiable hunger if they strayed too far and too long from home. However, life thrived behind the Black Walls, evolving at lightning speeds. The oracles said the Twin Gods were the ones responsible for all life. The serpent deities would feed their power to Girians and all manner of creatures inside the walls.
According to all history texts and bards, Girians were created by the snake gods to live along with them in their plane to be worshippers and servants. However, these servants became corrupted by greed and selfishness and were eventually banished from heaven to die in the burning wasteland. Many of those ancient Girians died in the first few years of banishment, but a few managed to survive by finding a portal big enough to talk to the gods’ plane. They spoke with their creators, begging forgiveness and to prove their worth by extending their glory into their new home. Then the Twins blew some of their power through the portal and caked the land their worshippers stood on, transforming the once sparse emerald foliage into power-fused scarlet forests. The oracles believe that one day, Girians will return to heaven if they have proved themselves worthy, but Von-wratha pitied those fools. If the Twins’ followers sought to murder and butcher each other to return to heaven, then the gods must be evil. This hellish desert might be something her people deserved, but wherever the Twins are, it wouldn’t be any better than here.
Von-wratha’s and Nalax’s first nights were spent rummaging through the bizarre desert landscape. They had countless survival lessons, learning about the wild plants they could consume without burning holes in their stomachs and wildlife they could hunt without deadly surprises hidden beneath their fur, scales or feathers. Girians knew that bosh’kag must be avoided; even seasoned scouts would easily fall prey to those hulking death-beasts. Bosh’kag are a reminder to Girians to never travel beyond the Black Walls. Von-wratha knew this, but there was a deadlier beast thriving inside her city. She replayed in her mind for many days the vision of her mother getting cut down by her adopted matron. She could barely utter a word to Nalax, and his suspicions were rising.
The cold night rolled in, but the sandy cave walls still held the warmth from the day and a small fire lit the room providing a little warmth and light. Von-wratha lounged on dried leather skins and furs from her many kills; she focused her mind to the dancing flames and anxiously waited for Nalax to return with food. Her senses perked when a scratching sound radiated from the orange cave’s opening. She gripped her snake dagger beneath her leathery quits and readied herself for the creature making the noise to reveal itself.
Nalax’s form appeared from the hole. His maroon hair was matted and embroiled with days-old dust, his naturally smooth grey skin had thin blue cuts across his arms, hands and knees, and his once black clothing harnesses held patches of fine red dirt. Von-wratha’s appearance didn’t look presentable either, but her face was strangely plump and full, unlike his dehydrated and sodden form after spending so many days in the wilds. Her power was weakened outside the walls, but every meal from fresh kill, whether an animal’s flesh or plant’s root, she could sense her psionics pulsate. She watched as Nalax dragged two small furless marsupials tied at the end of a hair-made rope draped across his left shoulder.
Von-wratha eased back into her quilts. “Did you see any water while on your hunt?” she suddenly asked, startling him.
“If I had, then I would’ve brought a water pouch,” he swung the dead animals off his shoulders and at the base of her legs, “here, they still haven’t been drained of blood,” Nalax said as he plopped down beside the fire pit.
“That’s revolting, Nal,” Von said as she picked up one of the creature’s hind legs. She rolled her eyes and placed her blade at the base of the corpse’s leg and began peeling back its skin.
Nalax irritably watched her fumble with the blade, creating tears instead of a clean peel.
“Give it to me, your stretching it,” he said with his arms outstretched.
“No, I can do it,” she said, flinching the limp marsupial closer to her bust.
“You’re ruining it, just give it to me,” Nalax said, he lurched forward and gripped its limp head.
“I can do it, Nalax. Let go!” She dug her nails into the flayed creature’s flesh. Red blood started leaking through the wounds as she lessened her grip.
“Von-,” Nalax said as he dug his nails into the carcass.
“Nalax, you haven’t done anything since we were cast out here, today was the first time you’ve left the cave. So far, I had to hunt, gather water and food while you lounged in this cave like some lazy oracle!” Von said, not realising the animal was crushing beneath her grip.
“Like you’d know what an oracle does. I’ve been keeping this cave safe from predators and other fledglings who would gladly put a knife in our throats, while you are off gallivanting across the Sun Hills!” Nalax’s voice had risen so loud that it began ricocheting from the walls.
Von-wratha’s eyes started to burn again. She pulled the dead animal from his hands with such force that its torso tore in half, one half remained in her hand while the other in his. She looked down to see red droplets falling on her bare feet.
“Damn it!” she tossed the torso against the cave wall, splattering the clean orange surface with scarlet before falling to the sandy ground with a thud. “Damn them, damn Aeos, damn all of Giria and damn you, Nalax!” Von screeched.
Nalax’s body froze, his mouth hung open as he looked down to the lower half of the torso in his hands and dropped it immediately in disgust. Von-wratha dropped to the soft sand gently cradling her head in her hands. This hadn’t been what she imagined beyond the walls. Now she understood the last lesson of Matron Aeos: there is no life; only survival.
“Red blood looks so strange,” Nalax said settling back onto a leather rug. “I remembered the matrons saying that all possessing azure blood were direct creations of the Twins,”
Von-wratha lifted her head from her hands; she faced the dancing fire and felt her eyes cool. “The matrons said a lot of things, but it’s hard to believe anything they told us,”
Nalax sighed. “Von, what happened to you back at the wall?”
“I could ask you the same thing when we ended up at the base. You woke up and left me to turn into bones,” Von shot a glare at her friend.
“I never intended to leave you. I woke up closest to the boulders. I couldn’t see your body anywhere and assumed you left me,” he said as he gathered the two halves.
“You know me better than that,” she said, feeling herself calming, “do you remember that promise we made when we were younglings?”
He smirked and gazed to the sandstone ceiling. “I do recall that view mainly, the dark grounds where we used to meet and climb that old tower.”
Von-wratha looked to Nalax, gently wrapping the carcases over the metal skewer and balancing it over the flickering fires. Its yellow flames illuminated his muscled arms and squared jaw. His maroon mane was tied back into a tail, but several red strands clung around his face and bare grey shoulders. A small feeling of longing rose within Von-wratha’s chest that made her face turn hot. She tried to push the thoughts away, but it was too late. Nalax’s golden orbs locked to hers.
“Back at the wall, what did you see in your visions?” she asked.
“Of the future, I believe. I was in white robes in a black room, there were people there, but I couldn’t see their faces. I didn’t know what happened. All I could feel was emotions of what had passed, a great sadness,” he said with his eyes still locked onto hers.
“The future? Doesn’t that mean if you see the future, you’re destined to be an oracle?” she said with a smirk.
“Probably. From this vision, I hope I don’t,” he said rolling the skewers over the fire. “What did you see in yours?”
“The past, my past. It was how I came to be at the Academy, and it was not what the matron’s told me,” Von-wratha said closing her eyes.
She reached out to her visions to show him what she had experienced. He put the skewers down and looked deep into her eyes, gently pulling her thoughts from her mind. She sensed he didn’t want her to relive the trauma alone. Von-wratha’s heart thumped like a hammer when Nalax gently pulled the memories from her mind. Emotions ran rampant, something that was beaten out of fledglings to craft them into soulless servants for the oracles and their wretched gods. He received the full spectrum. Emotions pulled forth from him back and forth, like waves of water. There were no boundaries or walls that kept them from feeling others or their own emotions – they were freed by a terrible truth.
Von-wratha shivered, she felt sweat droplets crawl down her temples and her long nails dug into the flesh of her hands. She felt two strong hands envelop hers and pry through her fingers. Her eyes shot open and saw Nalax reaching over gripping her hands. His tired face suddenly seeming revitalised, his sculpted arms pulled Von-wratha’s arms closer to him. Not a word or a thought was needed.
She crawled over to him and awkwardly pushed herself into his arms; her head rested on his shoulders. She planted her face in the nook of his neck and breathed in deep his musky scent. She imagined the kind of future her new life would be with Nalax. Where the desert would take them to their next adventure, if they were going to discover faraway cities with better people, and if they remained the rest of their days in the desert - it wouldn’t have mattered. Von-wratha put the memories of Giria behind her, eager to start a new chapter of her life with Nalax. As she laid in his arms, her mind slowly drifted to blissful unconsciousness.
~
The dark veil enveloped Von-wratha’s eyes, nose and mouth. A curtain wrapped itself around her body, tightening it until her limbs went numb. The constricting cloth prevented her senses and inhibited her struggle for release. The more she fought against the coarseness of the cloth, the more it would burn her skin. Her nose and mouth were desperately gasping for air as her rigid body squirmed beneath the binding material. One of her eyes shot open to see if Nalax was still with her, but she was alone.
In front of her, she sensed a great violet snake coiled beside her hip, it reared its triangle head towards Von-wratha’s face, then released a long black tongue and licked her bound mouth and nose. Its saliva seeped through the binding cloth and onto her skin. She wriggled her hands behind her back to feel for her daggers, hoping to cut the snake’s probing tongue, but they were gone, just like Nalax. She was left to fend for herself. Was this a dream? She wondered. She begged it to be just a terrible nightmare. She tried convincing herself that Nalax was still sleeping beside her and the snake was just a figment of her fears of her new life. She prayed that she would wake up, but the nightmare seemed to tighten around her.
The violet scales shone on the snake’s long and powerful body, Von-wratha noticed its eyes were sewn shut. The creature retracted its wide head, opened its mouth revealing fangs. With blinding speed, it struck her in the face. Von-wratha felt its pearly white fangs plunge into her fleshy cheekbone, pumping burning hot acid into her face. The mutilated snake retracted and once again thrust its fangs into her forehead. She screamed, but the cloth around her mouth made it sound little more than a muffle. The snake continued its relentless attacks. Her face felt as if a fire burned beneath her skin. She could smell a sickly-sweet odour pouring from the wounds the snake bored into her. Von-wratha stopped struggling, her breathing slowed, she was no longer screaming or gasping for breath, and her face swelled beyond the ability to see the snake.
As her vision darkened, a coarse voice followed by an evil cackling laugh made its way through her dying mind. Their eyes are always upon you, daughter, the voice whispered.
She forced her eyelids open and inhaled hot air into her haggard chest. Her vision cleared to the ceiling of the orange cave walls and the sapphire sky peeking through the entrance. She sat up suddenly, feeling for her sweaty face, which was wound-free, and for her daggers that stayed strapped to the back of her hips. Von-wratha looked to the blackened smoky fire pit. The dead carcasses had been removed as well as some of the survival gear that lay around the cave. Her stomach had sunk to her core. She turned to see an empty rug where Nalax slept the night before. She rushed to feel how long he had been gone by the warmth of the leather. It still held the cold desert night. Von-wratha leapt to her feet and jumped outside the cave entrance. The day was at its beginning. The sun shone through the cloudless blue sky over the endless desert beyond the Sun Hills. It took a second for her eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness of the day before she ran out of the cave.
Her feet carefully leapt over the boulders. Her mind was focused on discovering Nalax’s fate and ignored the agony in her burning feet from the hot stony surface. Von-wratha’s eyes kept to the horizon of the hills, its smooth gigantic canyons sculpted over millions of years from sandstorms, looking for any Girian figure wandering the area. Sweat began squeezing from her pores, her navy strands stuck to her dirt-ridden forehead and she swiped away the saltiness from her ashen skin. The sharp stones dug into Von-wratha’s feet making her lose balance before stumbling off the hot boulder. As she fell, her eyes naturally fixated on a black figure beside a body of flowing water.
A puff of dust made its way through her parched mouth. She wondered, was it a mirage? She lashed her psychic mind out to the grove, hoping that figure was Nalax, but no reply came to her calls.
Despite realising the futility of the task, she gathered her strength to save him. Whatever fate befell him, she had to save him again – he needed her, she thought. It was still a stupid idea to run in blind, but it was for her friend – he would do the same for her. Von-wratha bolted down to the grove where the shadowy figure stood, knowing well it could be a trap from a desperate fledgling or a fresh corpse of a bosh’kag. She had already accepted that this may be her future, living day-by-day with death lingering at every corner with Nalax by her side.
As she inched closer, the shadowy form became more apparent. Her sprint slowed, and her breath heaved. The figure was a serpent-totem used as an idol of worship and power for the Twin Gods. Two snake skulls were nailed together, whose tails coiled around the wooden pole. Their bony spines were wrapped in a velvet cloth and piercing ruby gems wedged in their hollowed eye sockets. Von-wratha felt like her heart sunk deep into her gut. This was Matron Aeos’ doing. She was here.
Rage replaced the devastation in her heart. She grabbed the snake skulls and pulled them from the totem, causing the pole to fall in a dust heap. The skulls fractured in her powerful grasp and the red gems loosened. She clocked her arm back and threw the bones and gems into the flowing waters. Von-wratha wildly picked the fallen totem in both hands and snapped it in half across her grazed knee before throwing it in the waters to join Matron Aeos’ gems. The water’s surface rippled from the objects disturbing its peace. Von-wratha watched the rippling waters become more violent as the ever-hungry fish tore through the serpent bones crunching the wood. She watched the fish flap to the surface as they devoured the broken totem with their rows of jagged teeth.
Her rage was replaced with sorrow. Matron Aeos took Nalax away from her. He wouldn’t have gone willingly, he must have been ambushed, and his body was smuggled out of the cave while she was unconscious. Even if the Sun Hills were dozens of miles from the Black Walls and Giria’s laws, Matron Aeos constantly revealed her wickedness to Von-wratha in every way possible. She studied the water’s surface as it became calmer. A thought rose within her mind. Perhaps this was an opportunity to free herself from pain and from her adopted matron. She wouldn’t go back to Giria. There was nothing left back home; her home was taken during the night.
Her feet met the edge of the shore. Her foot dangled above the encircling fish below the rippling surface. One more step and Matron Aeos’s torment will cease. Just one more step and maybe she will see Nalax again. Only one last step and all of it will end. Von-wratha sucked in the dry air, cooled beneath the shadows of the canyon. Her lungs inflated and held onto her last breath.
Von-wratha’s senses suddenly sparked up, as she heard leaves rummaging behind her. She whirled around to face the foliage – someone had been watching her. “Von?”
Blood rushed into her legs and she spun around with blinding speed, her eyes fiercely scanning the shrubbery behind her. Blyth stood several meters in front of her. Von-wratha saw the other fledgling slightly jump, her face twisted in fear looking back at her peer. Von-wratha flung her grey arms towards Blyth’s thin throat. The impact knocked the two to the ground. She struggled under Von-wratha’s physical strength, flailing her skinny arms trying to indicate she wasn’t a threat.
“Where are they? What happened to him?” Von shouted. Her voice escaped her mouth as a croak instead of words.
“Please stop, let me go!” Blyth said chocking out the words.
Von-wratha released her. She looked down at Blyth’s thin body. She tried to remember that Blyth was not her enemy and that she was not worth her rage. She slowly released her would-be victim and offered her hand out. Blyth looked at her hand in disgust; her scratched face frowned and ignored the gesture. She quickly jumped up to meet Von-wratha’s height.
“I’m sorry, you startled me,” she said, ripples of regret coursed through her.
“I wasn’t going to hurt you, fool,” Blyth said. Her brow furrowed as she brushed green foliage off her black suit.
“Were you here in the Sun Hills all this time?” Von asked.
“Yes, since the start of the trials. I didn’t know anyone else would dare to be here,” Blyth said watching her warily.
“So, you didn’t see anyone passing through the meadow?” she continued.
“Of course not, you’re the first person I’ve seen so far,” Blyth replied while massaging her neck, “why do you want to know?”
“I was here with someone, and now they’re gone,” Von said turning her attention to the flowing water.
“They could’ve been taken by a bosh’kag, this place is crawling with them,” Blyth said.
“If they were attacked then why would their equipment be gone too?” Von-wratha snapped, as her frustration began boiling in her chest. She looked over to Blyth, she truly was in a decrepit state. It appeared she hadn’t eaten or slept in days, her bones were protruding just beneath her skin, and every part of her was covered in bruises and red dirt. There were several wounds across Blyth’s skin that were in different stages of healing and some infected.
“Thanks for saving me from the water,” Von said.
Blyth glanced to the water. “Maybe if I let you kill yourself, you wouldn’t have attacked me,”
Von-wratha scoffed and felt her lips flicker into a smile. “How did you survive out here all this time?”
“What? You didn’t think I would survive?” she mocked.
“To be honest, I didn’t,” Von said.
“Matron Aeos taught us well, I guess,” Blyth said.
Von-wratha’s smile collapsed, she suppressed a small rise of rage from her throat and tilted her head up to the brilliant blue sky. “The second moon is showing.”
“Finally, we can return home!” Blyth said, she jumped into the bushes and pulled out her equipment. “Aren’t you going to pack up your camp?”
“There’s nothing to get.” Von said, taking a last glance to her cave.
The two began their trek back to the Black Gates, where Matron Aeos’s mad worship of the evil Twin deities spread to her unfortunate subjects, where the oracles further pressed their thumbs over the Girian people, where the zealots awaited to slaughter heretics, where the assassins itched to murder and where Nalax was no longer living among such cruelty.