by R. Brown
The Lords were impressed by her casual, uninhibited boldness. When she reached the other end of the table and was behind Lord Malor, she came to a stop. The room went silent, intently watching her as she squared her stance behind him. Lord Malor’s eyes were facing forward, not daring to turn around and look at her.
Ashlyn drew the sword from its sheath. Grasping the hilt, the sword hummed to life—its white glow casting his shadow on the table. Malor’s hands closed, clenching into fists. He swallowed. His fearful eyes darted to the men sitting in front of him, looking for a small sign that his fear was unfounded. He did not find it.
Ashlyn put her right foot back, taking an aggressive posture. She hefted the sword. Sensing her readiness to swing, Lord Malor closed his eyes tightly and tucked his head, expecting to be struck down.
Ash swung the sword. Malor screamed as he fell backwards, sprawling awkwardly to the floor. Ash had cut the rear legs off his chair.
“You will be upon your knees for the remainder of this meeting, Pig Malor. Never again will you bear the title of Lord. From this moment on—you will be known to all as Pig Malor.”
“You cannot do such a thing,” said Malor. Scrambling to his feet, he whipped around to face her—his false bravado protesting her humiliation of him.
“Can’t I?” Ash tipped her chin down, her narrowing eyes locked onto his. Stirred by the powers within Ashlyn’s mind, a chill breeze filled the room. Quick, darting glances between the Lords showed their uneasiness. It was almost like a ghost was walking among them, looking for a host to inhabit. It found—Pig Malor. Ashlyn sifted her way into the deep recesses of his mind. Within seconds, she gained control over him.
“Piss yourself, Pig Malor,” said Ashlyn for all to hear.
Malor began to pee. A puddle formed on the floor around his feet.
“And what is the name by which we address you?” asked Ashlyn.
“My name is Pig Malor.”
The Lords all gasped. Whispers were exchanged. From somewhere in the room she heard the whisper of, Transor.
“Where is your tail, Pig Malor? I do not see it,” said Ashlyn.
Malor looked behind him and screamed. While reaching around behind himself, trying to find it, he bleated out, “My tail is gone. My tail, my tail.” He spun a circle trying to catch a glimpse of it.
“Enough. You are a tailless pig, Malor. And you will forever be ashamed of it.”
Malor’s eyes lowered to the ground in shame over his missing tail.
“And will you obey the decree issued by the Council, Pig Malor?”
“Yes, I support the decree. I will leave for Heaven immediately. I will apologize to Lord Anu and beg his forgiveness.”
Ashlyn’s head lifted. “Go to your ship, Pig Malor. Return home to gather your family, but leave this day by sunset or you will die.”
A trembling Malor turned and scampered away, his pee filled boots squishing noisily with each step on the stone floor.
Ashlyn, glowing sword in hand, continued her slow walk around the Lords, until she was once again at the head of the table. She threw Solon a glance and motioned him to come closer—where she then handed him the sword.
She turned to her captive audience. “I have but one question for all of you. Will you live this day, or will you die?”
From behind Ashlyn, the sound of blaster fire rang out. Her genetically heightened perceptions sped, allowing her to see everything around her as if it were happening in slow motion.
She saw Tirion at the back of the room, shooting the last of her bodyguards in the back. Solon lay on the ground, badly injured—the Sword of Truth still clutched protectively in his hands. Tara was running toward a dark corner.
The other four guards in the room, Enki’s guards, were trying to shoot Tirion, but their weapons were jammed. Somehow, the assassin had managed to disable them. As the last of Enki’s guards fell, the attacker turned to her. He’d thought her an easy target without the sword—an easy target because she was a woman.
Ashlyn contorted away from a shot sent in her direction, narrowly escaping it. Her quick reflexes helped her to avoid three more blasts as she spun, dove, and whirled away from each.
Enlil’s Lords were taking advantage of the chaos, attacking the outnumbered Lords that were loyal to Enki. Ashlyn caught a glimpse of them snapping the neck of Lord Bolten, Enki’s dearest friend. The Keeper had given Ashlyn so much information that she couldn’t help but think of Lord Bolten’s six children living in the nearby city of Ur. It felt like she knew them all.
More than a dozen people lay dead around the room. The ziggurat had become a tomb for them, a tomb of gods. The torches were throwing a shimmering golden light on the walls, floor, and table—calling attention to the splatters of dripping blood upon them.
Ashlyn touched the center of her pendant, activating her armor. It was none too soon as a blast struck her in the back. Ashlyn barely felt it.
She rose slowly, ominously. She turned around to face the wide-eyed attacker. Seeing her clad in black armor, he took a step back. Raising the gun, he aimed it at her head. Ash wagged a finger at him mockingly, as he took shot after shot. Ashlyn bent and pulled the sword from Solon’s hands, her grasp bringing the sword to life.
Ashlyn stood stalwart between Enlil’s men and the door, blocking their path. With the failed assignation attempt, their lives were now forfeit. Exchanging glances told Ashlyn what was about to happen. As one, the men charged at her, hoping that at least some might escape.
In a blur of motion, Ashlyn reeling and spinning, she moved through them, the sword taking them down. Not a one had laid a hand on her. As the last man came at her, she took him by the throat and lifted him off the ground. Only a second passed before she snapped his neck and let his body crumple to the ground—his dead eyes staring at the ceiling.
“Who are you?” Ash said to the assassin.
The man who had taken the form of Tirion, tapped a small button on a device about his wrist, deactivating the dampening field. Her attacker then shifted, taking the form of a young Anunnaki male.
“I am El’adin, Enlil’s son. I do not recognize the authority of Enki’s whore.” He spat on the ground.
“Like father, like son.” With her armor’s enhanced strength, Ashlyn pushed the large table aside, clearing the space between them. Moving forward, each step deliberate and resounding, she closed the distance. Ash raised the sword high off her shoulder, her two hands tight on the hilt, ready to strike.
El’adin shook his head. “Go ahead. Today, I bring honor to my father.” He then pushed a red flashing button on his wrist device.
Outside, Ashlyn heard a small explosion—followed by several more in quick succession. The building rumbled and shook as the concussion waves struck the ziggurat.
El’adin knelt and closed his eyes. “The sons of the Lords will rule Tiamat from this day onward, and my father will rule them all.”
Ashlyn brought the sword down, making a quick figure eight pattern. If not for El’adin’s severed forearms falling to the ground, so clean was the slice that it would have appeared that the sword had missed him entirely. But from between the thin lines that crisscrossed his body, blood started to seep out. His shoulders began to separate—each slowly sliding off each side of his chest. His eyes went wide, his face panic stricken as his head began to slip and tilt, following his right shoulder to the ground. His decapitated torso was spurting and bubbling blood into the air from the exposed lungs. Ashlyn poked the torso in the chest with her sword, toppling it backwards.
The explosions outside were growing more frequent, louder, stronger. Ashlyn realized that the red button, El’adin had pushed, had set off a bomb, destroying Destiny.
Dust was falling heavily from the ceiling of the ancient stone structure. Grabbing Solon by the feet, Ash dragged him into the corner where Tara was cowering. If there was any safety to be found at all, it would be in the corner, against the wall. Trying to protect them as best she could, Ash positioned herself like
a shield over them.
Destiny exploded in a blast that shook the world around them. The ziggurat shuddered violently. One of the large stone blocks in the ceiling dislodged and came crashing down atop the table, shattering it.
Even deep inside the ziggurat, a strong blast of wind and heat found its way through the winding tunnels, blowing the torches out. Bathed in darkness, the automated twin lights atop Ashlyn’s helmet came to life.
Ashlyn’s stomach churned, as she pictured the unimaginable horrors taking place outside. Of little consolation, Ashlyn knew that for most, their death had been instant—without pain. But she also knew that there would be others on the outskirts of the city, perhaps thousands of others, that were suffering. Her imagination pictured all the horrifying details. Her thoughts drifted to the boats she’d seen in the harbor heading out to sea, and she wondered if they had been able to escape.
In the heavy dust, the light from her helmet casting spectral looking shadows upon the walls, Ash looked at Solon. He was unconscious; his wound serious. Ash gazed around the room.
“Tara, get me the torch over there.” Touching the pendant, Ash closed her armor. The light from her helmet disappeared.
Calling upon the flames, Ashlyn lit the torch that Tara was holding.
“Can you heal him?” asked Tara.
“I think so.” Kneeling beside Solon, she called upon the healing energy within. It came quicker this time and much easier. As Enki had told Ninmah in the beginning, she was just unskilled.
As Solon became filled with the light emanating from within Ashlyn, his eyes opened. He could feel his wounds healing and his strength returning. Ash held his hand until she felt the healing power fade.
Solon looked up, his eyes grateful for what she had done. Though still weak, with a little help, he managed to sit up. Putting his finger into the hole of his leathers, he touched the area where his wound had been.
“Did you know El’adin?”
“I did not. I’ve seen him, but never spoken with him personally. He must have killed Tirion and assumed his form. It is my fault, Lady Ninmah. I failed to protect you.”
“It was my fault too. I saw him hesitate when I ordered him to fire the missiles. There was no way we could have known,” said Ashlyn.
Tara coughed from the smoke filtering into the room. “We need to get out of here, Lady Ninmah.”
Ashlyn gave an agreeing nod. Slipping the sword over Tara’s head and shoulder. “Hold the sword for me. I’ll be right back.” Tara coughed as she fought the smoke, wiping the sting from her eyes.
The smoke and dust was thick and choking by the time Ash reached the entrance.
The devastation she walked out upon was complete, the great city of Eridu a sea of flames. Buildings that had existed minutes before were now piles of liquefying sand and rubble. The massive stone statues of Anubis, the Anunnaki with the head of a canine that had stood guard at the entrance to the ziggurat, lay toppled, shattered. Flames, ash, and smoke were rising high into the air. Embers, carried on the wind shone like stars against the darkening sky.
Traversing the ziggurat’s fractured steps down to what had once been a grand walkway, Ash turned to look at the Alulim pyramid behind the ziggurat. As she had expected, Destiny was gone. The pyramid itself was ablaze, its capstone disintegrated. The heat so intense, that some of its blocks had become molten and were flowing down the side of the structure. Loud cracking sounds smacked the air as stone blocks fractured.
It was impossible for anyone outside to have survived. Ash turned her gaze to the skies, scanning the horizon for the small ships that had been protecting the city, but they too were gone.
Ash knew how fortunate the three of them were. Only the ziggurat’s low profile and the massive weight of its large, layered stone blocks, had saved them. Even the entrance with its winding tunnels had been facing away from the blast. They’d been lucky.
Touching the pendant, Ashlyn called upon the rain. Instantly, a heavy downpour of rain began to fall over the entire city.
When Ash felt a slight burning upon her skin, she activated her armor. The air was poisoned, radioactive. While her and Solon’s denser molecular structure and healing abilities would buy them time, that wasn’t the case for Tara.
While the rain fell, Ashlyn sifted through the rubble. She felt a surge of excitement as she spotted a leather cowhide pinned beneath a fallen wall. Lifting the heavy stone slab aside, Ash pulled out the scorched hide.
Back inside the ziggurat, “We need to get Tara out of here. When Destiny was destroyed, it poisoned the air outside.”
Solon looked at Tara, concern in his eyes. “I understand the radiation, but how do we get her through the fire?”
“It’s raining outside. Most of the flames should be gone by the time we get out there.”
“Raining?” Solon was surprised by the words.
“Lady Ninmah made it rain,” said Tara with pride. “She is very powerful.”
“Here.” While they’d been talking Ashlyn had used the laser from her suit to cut two long, narrow strips in the hide. “Solon, tie the ends together, forming a harness.” Ash closed her armor and held up the hide to Tara. “It’ll have to do. We’ll wrap Tara in this. It’ll give her a bit of protection until I can get her out of the city.
“Solon, are you familiar with what a dragon is?”
He shook his head.
“Have you ever shifted form into a flying creature before?” Ashlyn asked.
“Yes, often. It is something all Anunnaki like to do. My favorite is the Naga. It’s large and can fly fast.”
“Perfect,” said Ashlyn. Taking the harness from Solon, Ash slipped it over her head. “When we go outside, I’ll shift into my dragon form. You’ll need to lift Tara onto my back and put the harness into her hands.
“Tara, you’ll need to hold it tight. I’ll need to move and climb fast to get you away from the radiation.”
“You are going to fly? With me riding you? I cannot. I am afraid of high places.” Tara started coughing.
“You must, Tara. You’ll die if you stay here.” Ashlyn looked at Tara. “We are going to take you to Ur. We’re taking you home. You’ll be with your children tonight.”
Tara smiled, gagging out the words, “Thank you, Lady Ninmah. Thank you.”
Ash touched the pendant, calling a stop to the rain. Removing it, she fastened it to the sheath around Tara’s neck. Hurried, Ash grabbed the torch. “Let’s go.”
At the last turn before the exit, “Remember Tara, don’t let go of the harness.” Ashlyn wrapped the hide around Tara. “Snug as a bug in a rug. Ready, Solon?”
Solon picked Tara up in his arms, “Ready.”
The three of them darted outside, their feet sloshing in the puddles that had formed. The moisture-laden air was thick, misty and smelled of charred wood. Only a few dwindling fires still burned.
Solon’s eyes went wide as he saw Ash shift into her dragon form. Never had he seen such a fearsome creature. The horned animal, with fangs nearly as long as his arm, let out a shrieking cry that sent a shiver racing through him.
“Hurry, Solon.” Ash lowered her shoulders and pulled her wings back, making room for Solon to place Tara atop her back. With Tara wrapped inside the leather hide, Solon placed the leather straps of the harness into her hands.
Tara twisted the straps around her fists, until it was cinched tight. Ashlyn lifted off, her large wings flapping at the air.
Solon followed, taking the Naga form. It was a sleek and beautiful blue creature with highlights of shimmering green and gold streaks.
Together they flew, the only sound being the thwap of their wings beating the air.
Before long, they were high above the city, looking down. Flying above the harbor, Ash spotted ships far out to sea. Their sails were down, the people aboard the vessels staring in disbelief at the devastated remains of Eridu. They had lost their friends and family. Nor did they have a home to which they could return.
; Tara gave a heavy cough as she came out of hiding and discarded the hide. Ash felt Tara lean forward, her legs tightening around her as she too, glanced below. Ash smiled to herself as Tara quickly pulled back, seeing how high they were.
“Aren’t we going to look for survivors?” asked Tara as she craned her neck, looking back at Eridu.
It was a question Ashlyn wished Tara hadn’t asked. “I’m sorry, Tara. I cannot. The risk is too great. We still have many enemies that want to kill us.”
With her words, Ash again sensed the darkness. Distant voices were whispering to her, the words indistinct. Ash shook her head. The motion startled Tara, eliciting a small scream from her as she tightened her grip to keep from falling.
“Is everything all right?” asked Solon.
Ashlyn had no answer to give. “Let’s get Tara home.” Turning north, they followed the river that would take them to Ur. Ash swooped low, gliding through the air until they were skimming just feet above the river. They followed the river’s twisting turns, passing above men pushing small planked boats with long poles, hauling bags of grain. They saw reed boats and dugout canoes with people casting fishing nets. Each of them looked at Ashlyn’s dragon with fear—until they beheld the human dragon-rider. They then saw it as a sight of unfathomable wonder.
Tara was watching their shadow as it changed size against the uneven waves of sparkling water, when they passed over a group of children playfully splashing in the river. Giving them a hearty wave, which they promptly returned, Ash saw that Tara was beginning to relax and enjoy the ride.
Ashlyn played her part, giving a dragon shriek and belching out a stream of fire. The children cheered.
The sun was setting on the western horizon as Ur came into view. The village had nothing in common with the great city of Eridu. Cattle and sheep roamed the outskirts, shepherds and herders tending them. Lanterns and warm fireplaces glowed invitingly from within the small homes. The smoky smell of meals being cooked wafted on the breeze. It was a place of peace, a place unconcerned with the rants of bickering Lords.
Without need to ask Tara for directions, Ashlyn flew over the rooftops of simple homes and shops made from mud and straw—heading up river to the north of town, to where Tara’s family lived.
