by Gwynn White
“I’m not hungry,” she said, dropping her fork onto the plate.
“You really should eat something,” Liam replied. “If you don’t nourish yourself with real food, the result of that may decrease the time between episodes of...you know.”
“Does it matter?” she asked, sighing down at her plate. “It’s going to happen anyway. Sooner or later.”
“Is that what’s bothering you?” he asked, setting down his own fork. “We handled it once already, remember?” He rolled his hand over, presenting a now perfectly healed wrist. “You’ve proven you can control yourself, if the need arises. Viola, we’re going to figure this out. I promise.” He glanced around, realizing there were quite a few empty seats between his group and all the other tarrins. His roaming eyes caught a few angry glances flashing in his direction. It would indeed be a long time before they were accepted here.
“You know, I think I’m finished,” he said, wiping his mouth and stepping back from the table. “Would you like to go back to our rooms now?” he asked, already certain of the answer. Viola was nodding eagerly long before he finished his sentence.
Heading back to the boxa tree, they had to cover a surprising distance before no longer hearing Owen’s complaining. Approaching the narrow, winding steps, Liam took a deep breath to prepare himself for the unpleasant experience. Coming down had been easier than going up, but he was about to be tested once again.
“Something tells me you are not fond of these steps,” came a voice from behind. Liam jumped, turning quickly to see Assirra standing there. She must have followed them when they left the table.
“I’m afraid I’m not too keen on heights,” Liam admitted, frowning at the winding steps.
“Then perhaps this will be of help,” Assirra said, urging them to follow her around to the other side. There stood what appeared to be a bamboo cage with a metal pulley on top. She glanced up and whistled. A moment passed before two heads peeked out from the platform above. After a wave of acknowledgment, they all stepped inside and closed the flimsy door. With a hissing squeak, the cage began to inch its way up in fits and jerks, the tarrins up top turning a crank. “Better?” she asked, smiling at the relieved mystic.
“I only wish you had showed me this great mercy a bit earlier,” he said.
“We don’t often find the need,” said Assirra, pushing back the makeshift door once they reached the top. “I couldn’t help but notice the two of you were uncomfortable this evening,” she said, changing the subject as they entered the structure. “For that I apologize. That was never my intent.”
“Please don’t apologize,” said Viola, one foot inching towards her quarters located through the next door. “I’m half human, half monster. The tarrins are not at fault for seeing me for what I am. It no longer matters where I go; the reception will always be the same.” She bent at the knees and dipped her head, giving her version of what a bow looked like to her. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I will retire.”
“Not just yet,” Assirra replied, raising a hand. “For the duration of your stay you will remain under my protection. That is the agreement we’ve made with the Demon Hunter. If you are in indeed in danger, that means my people are in danger as well.”
“What is it you are asking of her?” Liam asked. “Certainly she is not to blame for events she cannot control.”
“I lay blame on no one,” Assirra replied. “Yet too many questions remain unanswered. You have come here seeking asylum, yet we don’t know why Viola is being hunted in the first place. Her mixed blood is a biological impossibility, yet here she stands before me. Surely you understand that I must have some answers to these questions before I can guarantee my protection.”
“I seek answers to these questions as well,” Viola admitted.
“Then perhaps we shall seek them together,” Assirra replied, turning away and motioning for them to follow. They marched down a long hallway, ending in a far sturdier door than any of the others. Assirra pushed it back with a creaking groan, leading them into a dimly lit room. The freshly swept floor was sanded smooth with red markings scribbled everywhere. Thick black furs were thrown about, presumably to sit or kneel on. There were no chairs or tables, only a few candles placed at the centers of some of these drawn designs.
“This is where I pray to Odao,” said Assirra, her outstretched hand sweeping the scene.
“He listens and provides you with answers?” Liam asked, trying hard not to sound too skeptical. He had accidentally insulted her once today and was not looking to repeat his blunder.
“He provides us with everything,” she replied sharply, detecting the doubt in his voice. “Without Odao there is no sun and no sky. The world as we know it would whither into a wasteland of rot and decay. Make no mistake, my skeptical friend, every breath you take is Odao’s gift, and one to be cherished.”
Liam swallowed, not sure how to respond, but Assirra only smiled at him. “It is all right,” she reassured him. “I understand your suspicions. My words are destined to fall on deaf ears because you have yet to witness his greatness with your own eyes. You also believe the sun shall rise tomorrow as it has always done. The birds will sing, fish will swim, and all because it has always been so. You take for granted all of Odao’s miracles, never believing that a day may come when he may take them from this world. But that is about to change.”
“What is going to change?” Viola asked, beginning to grow nervous with all this talk of gods and the supernatural. And what did any of this have to do with her?
“With my guidance, he shall touch each of you tonight. I offer to you this evening a rare gift of sight, only a glimpse into a world mortal eyes were never meant to venture. It is here we shall find the answers we seek. Here, you can determine for yourself what is real and what is not.”
“Do we have a choice?” Liam asked.
“I am not your keeper,” Assirra said. “You always have a choice. But understand that the choice you make shall have a consequence. If you refuse the gift of sight, I can no longer offer you my protection. If that is your choice, I ask that you leave at daybreak.”
“I accept your gift,” said Viola, just as Liam was about to respond. She turned to Liam, a pleading look in her eyes. “Liam, please. I’m a stranger in my own world and I don’t even know why. There is no logical reason for my existence. No matter what happens, I’ll never forget what you and the others have done for me, but we can’t keep running forever. I would never ask that of you.” She glanced at his wrist. “I’m a danger to those who are closest to me. I refuse to be a burden to those I care about, without ever even knowing why. Either we learn the truth here and now...or we keep running for the rest of our lives. My choice is made.”
Liam held her pleading gaze, considering her words for a time. For a fleeting moment, she no longer appeared to be that same innocent young girl, naive of the world and all its dangers. She was a woman who had weighed her options and made a decision.
“Very well,” Liam said. “It’s not as if I have an alternative plan.” He turned back to Assirra. “Although I admit that I remain skeptical of your methods, we accept your offer. What would you have us do first?”
“Free your minds,” she said plainly, her bluish-white eyes seeming to light up. “A simple request, yes? There is no effort involved when seeking the truth, only acceptance. The path of least resistance is always the correct one.” She stood and made her way towards the door. “I shall gather the others. It is important that they be involved as well.” She left, leaving them to sit in silence for a time.
She returned a short time later, Owen, Xavier, and Thatra in tow. Liam waited for the loudmouthed hunter to make some sort of jest about the situation, but he did nothing of the sort. A solemn look on his face, he silently grabbed one of the black fur rugs and tossed it down on the floor. Xavier mimicked his master’s action, sitting down next to Viola.
“So, we’re really going to do this, aye?” Owen asked.
“The decisi
on wasn’t mine to make,” Liam replied, eyes on the floor as Assirra drew a double circle in red. Hand moving in fits and jerks, she created what looked to be extremely complicated, intricate designs along the outer edge of the inner circle. Once finished, Assirra tossed her small piece of red rock aside and gestured for Thatra to come take a seat. They all sat in a circle, legs crossed, eyes on the circular design near their feet. Assirra placed a thick red unlit candle at the center of the circle.
“I want you to all join hands and close your eyes,” said Assirra, taking her place at the head of the circle. Xavier was the first to oblige, taking Viola by the hand. With a reassuring smile, he gave it a light squeeze, bouncing both their hands on top of her knee. The rest followed suit, none seeming particularly at ease. One at a time they closed their eyes, Liam the last to do so.
“Once we begin, our minds shall be joined as one in the eyes of Odao,” Assirra called out, her voice crisp and clear. “As his divine power flows through me, you shall all see what I see, feel what I feel… But understand that the imagery you witness is meant for me and me alone. Do not concern yourselves with the cryptic nature of these visions. I shall translate the meanings of all that we see. Open your minds, friends, and walk this spiritual path with me.”
The candle in the circle’s center ignited on its own, flame shooting high into the air. The dancing light flickered across their faces, making them squint against its brightness. Gray mist clouded their vision, rolling and bubbling in a shapeless haze. Dark faces emerged from the chaos, flashing brief expressions of suffering before vaporizing back into the gray rolling mass.
The imagery changed, rolling gray beginning to take on some semblance of form and color. A flash of red assaulted their vision, clearer images now starting to form. A boiling river of liquid fire flowed through a canyon of rock. With each molten bubble rising, white ash spewed from the top as they burst.
The vision sharpened further, as if they somehow drew closer to it. Ghostly white men came into their vision. They stood around the flowing lava howling in pain, blood-curdling shrieks echoing through lipless slitted mouths. Their colorless bodies endured the scorching heat, absorbing the pain, although never seeming to burn. Large pink eyes opened wide with each howl, tears evaporating as fast as they formed.
“The laberaths are not the only ones hunting Viola,” Assirra whispered, her voice shaky with focus. “The ghatins have joined them as well. You see before you the white devils who have terrorized your human cities. It would seem that their fiery prison is no longer able to contain them.”
Liam looked on through his spirit-guided eyes. Sure enough, those creatures fit the descriptions reported by the survivors of each attack. Once again the candle shot fire into the air, its light flashing across their faces sending the images swirling and boiling into a churning blend of color.
The rolling colors reformed once more, images slowly taking shape for a second time. It was a dimly lit room with a mother and her babe. They watched as the baby suckled its mother’s nipple, the face of the mother unseen. The baby suckled harder, suddenly displaying a desperate need. It seemed to grow teeth despite appearing to be only a few weeks old, and began biting with an animalistic voracity.
Blood ran freely from the unflinching mother’s breast, down the sides of the baby’s cheeks, blood filling its mouth. Displaying a calm demeanor, the mother ignored the mutilation of her body, lightly bouncing the babe as if nothing were wrong. It ripped and tore, pulling away bits of red flesh with each vicious bite.
“You have not been forthright with me,” Assirra accused, all eyes still closed as they listened to her voice. “You suffer from the thirst, Viola. This is not a thing that should have been kept from me.” Everyone stirred uncomfortably, legs readjusting their positions. The candle flashed again, this time its blaze releasing considerable heat in the small room.
The mother and babe meshed together, colors swirling into a rainbow of light. Another flash of red assaulted their vision. This time they saw Viola encased between a grid of iron bars. She screamed and thrashed, attempting to free herself. Below her, molten lava flowed like red honey, burping large bubbles that threatened to reach up and grab her.
The grid began to lower in bouncing jerks, her screams intensifying as her body drew closer to the heat. Her clothes began to smoke, steaming flesh peeling away from her face as flakes of skin hissed against the red river below. When the grid touched the surface, her whole body erupted in flame, a final blood-curdling scream echoing through the chamber.
Pasty white ghatins looked on as her corpse blackened into ash. Suddenly, it burst. White spectral faces with long, misty tails exploded in all directions, soaring through the air like ghostly bats. Ignoring the specters, ghatins began leaving the fiery chamber. The scene drew back, now showing ghatins drifting down the side of a mountain.
Everyone gasped, trembling hands clenching their neighbors’ with false reassurance that it was nothing but a horrible vision. Viola was fine. They would never let this happen to her. “The ritual,” Assirra gasped, her voice trembling with fear for the first time. “This is why they need Viola. The ghatins will be free to roam the world once more after her body has been sacrificed to break the curse. Why didn’t I see it before?” The candle flared again, this time a bluish burst that felt more like a cool breeze against their faces.
A murky haze formed before their eyes. Turbulent and wild this time, it looked like a storm of clouds all funneling into the eye of a hurricane. Wisps of vapor seemed to be torn apart, shredded by raging winds. The explosion of movement began to slow, rolling vapor starting to take shape.
It was Viola once more, her face pale as ever, lips black as night. Her red eyes seemed to pierce into each of their souls as a knowing smile creased her lips. Suddenly, her eyes enlarged, easily tripling in size. This disproportion made her look like an insect. Her grin widened, pointed teeth now fully on display. The skin on her face began to turn scaly, as if all the moisture were being sucked out.
In a crackling blur, her lips peeled back under her chin and over the top of her head. The skin on her face flipped inside out in an explosion of red. At the center of the gory massacre that was once her face, a long pink tongue waggled about like a streamer in the wind.
Assirra shrieked, releasing the hands on either side of her, falling back against the wall. With a collective gasp, everyone’s eyes jetted open. Stunned by the horrific visual, chests rose and fell with panicked breaths. Unfazed, Viola stared down at the melted candle, a vacant empty look in her eyes.
“What the blazes did I just see?” Owen growled, the normally unflappable hunter sounding quite shaken.
“I...I’m not sure,” Assirra admitted, slowly rising to her feet. “The visions are always cryptic to all those who bear witness, but they’ve always been clear to me, yet I only partially understood its meaning. The vision represented a direct link to Viola’s origin, of that much I’m sure. Only...”
“Only what?” Liam prodded.
“Only, the conclusion was not clear. It’s as if Odao himself is confused.”
“I’ve run the tests myself,” Liam pointed out. “Her blood consists of both human and laberath.”
“Your findings are not in question,” Assirra replied. “It’s just that...there is something quite alien about her. An infection, for lack of a better word. Her blood is...tainted.” Everyone fell silent, their foreheads beaded with sweat from the ordeal.
“Enough of that then,” Liam said, eventually breaking the long silence. “Let us focus on what we do know. Those ghostly white creatures we saw. Every report of those random attacks described those things in great detail. There could be no mistake. But you referred to them as ‘ghatins.’ At first I couldn’t recall the name, yet it seemed oddly familiar somehow. But now I do indeed remember the tale. Those creatures are from the story of Malikye. The old folk tale of white beasts which were finally subdued by an ancient sorcerer. Although unable to destroy them, he cursed them t
o live out their days in a smoldering volcano, thus saving the realm.”
“Looks to be a bit more than an old folk tale,” said Owen.
“I don’t believe this,” said Liam, rising to his feet. “So not only is the story true, but they’re trying to lift the curse by performing some ancient ritual.” Liam began to pace, knuckles knocking his forehead while he tried to remember the old story. “Why now, after so many centuries have passed? What’s changed?”
“They now have a vessel that fits the formula,” said Assirra, as if that should be obvious. “Tell me, Liam, how many beings such as Viola have you met in your time? Can’t you see? She is the missing link!”
“And if they manage to succeed, the curse will be lifted and these powerful beings will roam the world once more. And what’s more, they’re working with the laberaths!” Liam replied, suddenly realizing how dire the situation had become.
“But I don’t understand,” said Owen. “It seems they’ve already found a way to escape their molten tomb. Somehow, they’ve already beaten the curse on their own.”
“No,” Xavier replied, still displaying his ever-present calm. “Well, not exactly. It’s not that they’ve found a way to leave the volcano.”
“Of course,” Liam said, disgusted by his own stupidity. “They’ve found a way to bring the volcano with them! They’re using its ash as a gateway to move around on the surface world. Theoretically, they are still confined within the volcano. And look how much destruction they’ve caused while still being so limited. Imagine if they were to lift the curse!”
“That can never happen!” Assirra insisted. She walked over to Viola, who still remained seated, eyes calmly fixed on the inactive candle. “I still don’t know exactly who or what you are, or even how you came to be. None of that matters now. Now more than ever, I know that we must keep you safe. I pledge my full protection.”
