by Kyrja
As his brother ran, he began his own transformation, from a solid body made entirely of water to a fluid state. Sabbah didn’t so much throw his body at Savaar as he threw an entire sheet of water at him. A deadly sheet of liquid malevolent awareness, intent on smothering the life out of him.
Savaar spread himself out, allowing his body to expand while maintaining his cohesiveness. He felt the sense of his brother pass through him, no more damaging than a hand dipped into a bowl of water. Contracting once more, he turned to see Sabbah reforming as well, then felt another bucket of water wash over him. He could feel the charged energy of the liquid as it filled him with strength. He allowed himself a brief grin of wry amusement, knowing the priests were not going to be happy with Batal for using the store of the water they’d blessed for ritual purposes by throwing it all over him.
“You!” Sabbah screamed, furious, pointing at Batal.
“Run!” he told her, then blocked his brother’s lunge towards the priestess. He heard the bucket drop and her running footsteps retreating.
“Now! Now you will deal with me!” Savaar told Sabbah, extending his hand towards his brother’s face, pushing his own liquefied fist through his head. They traded blows, each trying to either fill the other with too much water, or attempting to dismantle the other, molecule by molecule. Sabbah was the first to make himself larger, his body growing even as he was trying to rip Savaar apart.
Savaar could spare no thought for Batal, Abalah, or anyone else, but briefly hoped they had all been smart enough to get out of the temple by now. Echoing his brother’s move, he made himself much, much larger, until his head almost touched the ceiling unusually high overhead. Amphedia’s followers had always loved large, tall temples, and this one was no exception. Sabbah still held his Tear in his hand, but it wasn’t as much of a threat as it had been when his liquefied body had been scattered everywhere. Even in the hands of his mother, Savaar knew his brother’s Tear wouldn’t kill him.
Then Sabbah pressed the Tear directly into his chest, where there was a small patch of the residue and Savaar stumbled, feeling the blinding pain even more intensely than before. He fell to one knee, his head bowed, with one hand against the flaming pit of pain in his chest. He cried out in pain and anger, unable to catch his breath for a moment. He shouldn’t need to breathe air in this form! What was happening to him?
All at once, Sabbah’s voice thundered all around him, fierce with denial. “Noooo!”
He caught a glimpse of Batal running towards the front door – with Sabbah’s Tear in her hand! How had she gotten the Tear? Too quickly for him to even follow, his brother lashed out with a tentacle of water, tripping her. She fell with an audible thump! against the stone floor, but held on to the Tear. Savaar tried to stand, but found he was unable to. Batal held the Tear in both hands, then pressed it to her chest. No! She must not become a true child of Amphedia! No!
Sabbah transformed into a wave, a towering wave, instantly filling the temple with water deep enough to drown Batal where she still lay by the front door. Savaar did the same, hopeful the comingling of their waters would allow Batal to get away. He saw her reach for the door, one hand still pressed to her chest, then the doors gave way, spilling her, and all of the water that was his body and his brother’s unto the massive crowd gathered in front of the temple.
Chapter Thirty-One – Fire and Water
The fire was burning brightly within Denit as she slowed down to a walk, stalking - practically stomping - across the sands of the beach. She could feel it filling every fiber of her being and welcomed its return. It had been a very long time since last she had been so filled with the flame of living fire. Why had she ever agreed to let Giya plant her wretched “seed” within her, stripping her of all of her power?
She was surprised to see Aidena standing with the others. But then, she had told her she was the daughter of Siri Ventus. Denit frowned, wondering if Aidena had lied to her about being able to use her powers. How else was she able to get here already? Unless, a voice of reason cautioned her, the Goddess of Air had brought Aidena here against her will?
“Stop making assumptions,” she scolded herself. Everyone did it, and rarely to any good effect. When you thought you already knew what someone did, or why they did it, you left no room for other explanations. She could hear Giya’s calm voice in her head, as she often did, urging patience and her counsel to give others the benefit of the doubt. There were so many lessons the Earth Goddess had tried to stuff into her head, Denit sometimes wondered if there was anything she might do without concern over what Giya might say about it.
She certainly wouldn’t condone her actions here, today, Denit knew. Still, she had her hands curled into tight fists, ready to fight. To keep her grandson safe. She had done everything everyone had asked of her, including letting her son die, but now she was standing on her own. If that meant frying the Goddess of Air to a crisp, she was ready to do so. The only thing she didn’t like was the fact that there was a child present. Aidena had said the girl was her daughter, and the other woman must be her human mother. And wasn’t that confusing?
None of that mattered, though. All that mattered was making sure Jarles was safe. She gritted her teeth to keep from laughing – or sobbing! – because “safe” wasn’t something he was likely to ever be if Amphedia had her way. Still, she would not stand by to see him thrown away in some kind of holy war between the Goddess of Air and the Storm Goddess. She would not have it!
As she drew nearer, she saw Aidena break away from the others, walking towards her, her arms held in front of her as if in surrender. Denit took three more steps then stopped. Fine. She would give Aidena the benefit of the doubt by stopping. She would hear what she had to say, but she wouldn’t let anything or anyone stop her from making damned sure Siri Ventus would leave Jarles alone.
She watched as Aidena walked through the wall of the protective sphere around the others, flinching a little when the cold rain from the storm began hitting her again. She nearly fell over sideways as she adjusted her balance to counter the strong winds swirling around them. Denit almost smiled, knowing that under other circumstances she might have made a jest about the daughter of a wind goddess not being able to stand up in the storm. But this, she knew, feeling her heart harden even further, wasn’t the time for small jokes or humor. All the same, she did feel a small tug at her heart, remembering all the late-night conversations they’d had while traveling together. All the late-night conversations she had had with a mostly-unresponsive and disgruntled young woman overwhelmed with the secrets she’d been keeping. Yes, there was a tender spot in her heart for Aidena, she knew, but it was very small and pale in comparison to the place Jarles occupied.
“Denit!” Aidena raised her hand in greeting, a smile of friendship on her face.
Spreading her legs for stability, Denit crossed her arms over her chest, letting her stance speak for her. That’s when she noticed Aidena was still in the same spot she’d been a moment ago, her hand still raised, the smile still on her face. She frowned, wondering if she was going to come any closer, or if Aidena was expecting her to come to her. No, she still wasn’t moving. Standing there, as if she was frozen in time, the smile still on her face, Aidena looked like a puppet of herself. Denit raised her arms, igniting the fire in her palms, instantly alert. It was a trick! Aidena wasn’t here at all! It was just an illusion Siri Ventus was using to throw her off guard!
* * * * * * * *
Jarles knew he would never understand what had made him decide to protect the crowd of people as he’d done, instead of joining in the fight between the two sons of Amphedia, but that’s exactly what he’d done. He had known the water surging out of the temple contained two very distinct entities, even though he’d been unable to see their faces or bodies. Maybe because he had been responsible for so many people while leading his grandfather’s caravan for so long, it had become second nature to protect them, or maybe he’d just been certain he wouldn’t be able to b
est the two beings he’d felt within the waters pouring over the crowd.
When Kaya had shaken him out of his shock by insisting he save the people who were running, screaming, and trampling each other, he had lunged immediately into the fray, but not in his human form. Instead, he had transformed his body into a kind of shield, separating most of them from the lethal effects of the two brothers having turned themselves into a flood capable of drowning many of the people who had gathered outside the temple. Jarles had no idea why they had gathered there, but the men, women, and children had packed themselves so closely together as to make it impossible for any but those on the very outer fringes of the gathering to escape without threat of injury or death – either from drowning or from the others who were frantically trying to escape.
Even in his half-bubble protective form, he could feel the impact of the two deities against him as they fought each other. Too, he could feel the desperate terror of the people under him, as they continued to fight against each other to flee. He could feel the lessening of the fear as some began to realize they were no longer in danger of being washed away or drowned by the flood waters, but there was no one to direct them, nor to provide calm reassurance, and so they raged on.
* * * * * * * *
Eruitt looked at Ramil, trying to read his lips, but was unable to figure out what he was trying to tell him. It was impossible to hear anything over the screaming. At least the two of them had been near the edge of the gathering when the doors to the temple had exploded, so they’d been able to remove themselves from the danger of being trampled to death by pushing themselves against the wall of a building. Still, they were being pushed further and further away from the temple by the others all pushing and pulling against them as they ran for their very lives.
They hadn’t discussed not running; each of them had simply pushed their backs against the wall to let the people run past them. Eruitt guessed Ramil knew as well as he did that Jarles had been headed for the temple, and knew that was still the most-likely place to find him, deadly flood or not.
That’s when Eruitt saw the top of the shield of water protecting the crowd and knew it had to be Jarles. From the look on Ramil’s face, if not his words, his companion had the same thought. He had no idea, though, if Jarles’ efforts were going to be enough. Where was the water coming from anyway? How did so much water get into the temple in the first place? He was sorry he asked a moment later, when it became obvious the water wasn’t just water, but two … beings? … that had turned themselves into water.
What are they? Eruitt could read Ramil’s lips perfectly when he asked that question, his eyes wide, watching the waters separate into two very tall men made completely of water. One, he was sure, must be Savaar, and the other was, maybe, another son of Amphedia. It was only a guess, he knew, but he was pretty sure it was a good one. More than ever he wished P’onyem was still with him, to explain what was going on. He was sure she would know what to do, and how to help Jarles. The only thing he knew to do was to stay out of the way – a task which was becoming harder and harder to do, as the crowd became even more frantic trying to escape.
* * * * * * * *
With her muscles tensed for the attack Denit was certain Siri Ventus was going to launch against her, she was unable to keep from releasing the flames from her hands when a figure suddenly rose from the sand to stand in front and to the left of her. Screaming as if she was running into battle, she let loose all the anger and fear she’d kept contained for many years, the inferno of flames streaming from her hands cascading wildly in front of her. Too late, she recognized the figure an instant before she let loose her fury, but was unable to stop the flames from engulfing Giya.
Even though she immediately clenched her fists to stop the stream of nearly liquid fire, Denit knew it was far too late. She screamed even as she flung her arms down in denial, winching as she did so, afraid to look.
“With great power …”
She couldn’t believe it! Giya? Yes! She finished the all-too-familiar phrase, “…comes great responsibility! Oh Giya!” she laughed out loud, taking the few steps necessary to embrace the Earth Goddess in a hug of pure relief. “You’re all right! I can’t believe it!”
“I am made of something quite more durable than you might have guessed, Denit,” Giya told her, stepping back from the embrace. Looking directly into the woman’s eyes, she said, “And you …”
“I am made of fire, my lady, and I intend to make sure that one stays clear of Jarles,” she said, pointing directly at Siri Ventus.
“If you couldn’t harm me,” Giya pointed out reasonably, “what makes you think you might be able to destroy her?”
“My need is greater than hers,” Denit replied with a growl, still glaring at the Goddess of Air as if she was an animal in a cage and her food was just out of reach on the other side of the bars. No doubt about it, Denit knew she was hungry for the taste of Siri Ventus.
“You don’t know that, Denit,” Giya told her, folding her arms inside her sleeves as she often did. “In fact, I’m afraid there is quite a bit you don’t know.”
“After all this time, you’re going to tell me there’s more?” Denit was outraged. And scared, she knew – not that she was going to admit it, even to herself. Maybe especially to herself. “What if I don’t want to know more?” she asked, scowling.
“Let’s hear what she has to say,” she heard Aidena’s voice suggest quietly, as she walked up beside her, then patted her shoulder in a gesture she obviously hoped her friend would accept.
“It’s not your life she’s talking about!” Denit exploded, shrugging off Aidena’s touch.
“Isn’t it?” she yelled back. “You came here hoping to fry her,” she pointed at Siri Ventus. “Whether she is or isn’t my mother, Hadia is and Nieva is my daughter. You won’t be able to hurt the goddess without hurting them too. Make no mistake, Denit, they will throw themselves in your path to protect her! How is this not my life?”
“Leave Jarles alone!” Denit screamed at the Goddess of Air, shaking her fist. “Don’t you touch him!”
To her surprise, the goddess took a few steps towards her, leaving the other two behind, then was suddenly immediately in front of her.
“Jarles must replace Amphedia so he can restore balance,” Siri told her, aiming her empty eyes directly at Denit.
“What?” she asked, confused and still angry. “But Oculis …”
Using one hand to make a shooing motion, Siri said, “Oculis has no part in this. He has his own agenda.”
“Agenda?” Aidena asked.
“As all beings who awaken and grow in strength and power, he wishes to be more than he is,” the goddess explained, her voice still emotionless.
“You are responsible,” Giya opined, with a hint of accusation, Denit thought.
“As are you,” Siri returned, one eyebrow raised, with her eyes aimed at Denit.
“Hey!” Aidena said, sounding surprised, “the storm is going away.”
“It was only meant to draw me here,” Giya told her.
“And me,” said a voice behind them.
Whirling around, Denit saw a being she knew could only be the Storm Goddess. Hadia and Nieva were each being held by a tentacle of water wrapped around their bodies and held over their mouths.
Chapter Thirty-Two - Partings
Chared felt numb. And cold. He couldn’t remember being so cold since he was very young, before he ever came to the city. He’d been out hunting for sand spiders and had lost track of time. Even then, he’d known it was a foolish thing to do, especially on his own. He wasn’t ever supposed to go out by himself, but he’d done it just the same. He’d found three of the spiders that had both red and blue stripes on them – something he hadn’t seen before. He’d already captured two of them and was determined to get the third. Sov’s long, golden fingers of sunlight had disappeared quite some time before the glow that was the sunset had faded enough to catch his attention. And he’d been a lon
g way from the cooking fires. He could see the distinctive, orange, welcoming glow as a smudge against the horizon. There was nothing he could do but to start walking towards it.
He had known it gets cold after the sun sets. Of course he did, he’d lived in the desert the whole of his life. But he’d never been outside of the cooking fires after dark before. One determined step after the other had brought him home that night, but he’d been chilled all the way through by the time he’d made it, with teeth chattering and bones aching.
This felt something like that, only different. He’d been numb then too, but this time he was pretty sure he was glad to be numb, given all the blood he could see draining out of his broken body. He couldn’t move, because he was pinned to the wall by the shattered remains of the temple’s wooden doors. As near as he could determine, he had been shoved sideways by the explosion of wood and water, with large slivers of wood blasting into his body like a pincushion.
Be wise in what you ask for, so when you receive it, you are blessed. That was the old saying, and he’d just been reflecting that he was ready to mingle his lifewaters with that of the sea so he could be reborn. He coughed, wishing he hadn’t, then moaned as he coughed some more, tasting more blood. He hadn’t truly expected this kind of death, he had to admit. But there wasn’t much he could do about it at all at this point. He was pretty sure one of his legs was broken, along with some ribs, and he knew his left hand was. He was slumped over on his left side, right where the blast had left him, unable to move, too weak to call for help; he knew he wouldn’t be heard at any rate, not with all the screaming. It felt like he had water in his lungs, or maybe it was blood. Either way, it felt like there were bubbles in his throat every time he exhaled. It was getting harder to breathe anyway, and he was very, very tired.
