by Shane Cogan
‘But she knows you are coming. Just like the Ice Dogs, The Naiads and us,’ he said as he turned to meet Tiuus’s face. ‘I think you have more powers than you let on last night around that campfire of drunk tales and songs, old Daara creature,’ Tiuus said grinning his teeth, the black one at the front catching Mannu in the eye. ‘Just like your own secret powers, which you have not seen yet,’ he said. Mannu stopped and rested on a branch. He let out a moan as his small frame fitted perfectly into it. Tiuus eyed the old man and remained standing. ‘So your old age is finally showing!’ Tiuus said laughing. Mannu smiled and added: ‘Wrong. This is the Daara border. We do not cross this line. And those on the other side cannot come over here. It is but an unholy alliance of spirits, I admit. But it has held for generations. Well, since we left our old way of life in the forest,’ he said, dropping his head. Mannu pointed to his side. ‘There. That red crooked bush line that runs around the path and back to the forest. I cannot go any further with you. You are on your own,’ he said. ‘You’ve been a great help. Informative to the end,’ Tiuus said, shaking his head. ‘And how far to the summit from here?’ he asked. ‘The dark shaman they call Zirva will send out her spirit animals, but only at night. That is when she will be at her strongest. I would suggest you use those special eyes you have and your extra breath that the Nymphs gave you to plan accordingly. You are maybe four Atis daylight days to the top. But it is hard walking. The bees’ nectar will ease your slow breath and give you energy,’ he said. Tiuus nodded to the old man as he squeezed past him and the seat, before turning to him. ‘Until next time, old man. We shall talk more on my return back,’ Tiuus said. ‘If the prophecy of the Sloua is right, there will be no next time. Only one of her offspring will survive,’ Mannu said as he turned and headed slowly back down the path. The encroaching trees swallowed the light as his hands grew darker, but his walk quickened. Tiuus continued to stare at the old man as he started to jump from stone to stone and was out of sight. Tiuus turned and faced his next stone and the elder’s words still ringing in his ears. Prophecies and tribal superstitions.
C H A P T E R 55
The Shaman
Fylo held out a jug of water. I can feel my chest panting. Where was he? Arriving at my door with tales of attacks and dark shadows chasing him. And the guard saw nothing. She could hear the sound of drops on the tiled roof as they moved and held firm. ‘I will admit the weather is extreme for this time of year and I hear it is quite dry in the West. Again, extreme. But the rain on the roof is like music, don’t you think?’ Fylo said as she took the glass from Wormblack. She eyed him closer. She recalled the last time they had spoken outside the Vanguard meeting. It had not been pleasant. ‘And if what you say is true, what can the Vanguard do?’ she said. Wormblack shrugged his shoulders. He pushed himself from the chair, his knees cracking as he straightened. He hobbled closer to Fylo, holding one hand to his back. His head bowed. Fylo tilted her head upwards.
‘You have been bumbling something about a dark energy on Glow Mountain and Kassobra’s role in this. But this makes no sense,’ said Fylo as she moved away from Wormblack. She took a deep breath. His body odour is foul. ‘I am telling you, she is connected to the dark energy and all the unpredictable things that have taken place on this planet, in this palace and out there. Who else on the Vanguard had a Shamanic father?’ he asked raising his voice and walking around Fylo. ‘And her father died in shame. His connection to the underworld and the dark forces…,’ he added, as he looked away. ‘Idle rumours. Something that was never proven. And something that Kassobra has consistently disputed. Lies by the…,’ she said but was interrupted. ‘Yes. By us, the Yarracullan. Blame the evil majority. Again lies,’ Wormblack shouted at her, moved his body slowly towards her, while scratching his head. She took a deep breath. Hold it longer until he stops talking. She shuffled on its surface, resting her back. Her hands crossed on her laps. Fylo’s face focused on Wormblack pacing her quarters.
‘Even if you are making sense, what can we do here? We are a long way from the North-West. At least one week. And the hoyden service has been stopped until security improves,’ she said. ‘Or until the King resurfaces and actually becomes a leader again,’ Wormblack bit back at her, his face a few inches from hers. She took longer breaths. ‘There goes the Yarracullan paranoia again. There is no conspiracy. He has been spotted around the palace and not in hiding. ‘Typical Hawthorn words. Always diplomatic to the end,’ he shouted back at her. He reached down to his left knee and massaged it. With his other hand he rubbed around his lower back, still eyeing Fylo. ‘Listen. We both need to calm down. Even if there are murmurings of an evil shamanic woman on the mountain. I cannot see a connection to Kassobra. And it’s pure speculation that the King has sent a Manith to find out,’ she said. Wormblack sat back down on his chair and sighed. He looked at her, his voice lowered. He continued to hold his knee with a slight pant. They just looked at each other, holding its gaze.
‘And this secret waterway that runs under the palace and to the North. Do you know about it? And if so, is it true what they say?’ Wormblack asked. Fylo shifted her body in the chair. She folded her arms across her small chest. Her pale skin slightly glistened in the light from the window. ‘No one has used that secret passage for generations. It is a myth. A tale of the old spirits and the little people…,’ she said. ‘You are too kind,’ he snapped back. I hope to see a smile from her. Nothing. ‘Smaller even than me,’ she said. He shifted his bodyweight to the right, but kept his eyes on her. ‘And the body portal that I have heard of,’ he said. ‘Again a myth,’ Fylo said. Wormblack averted his stare to the open window and back to Fylo. Her face, expressionless as ever, gives nothing away. Her face remained the same on each word. Fylo stood up and took the glass and jug from the floor beside Wormblack’s feet. He did not move. She moved away from him and towards the adjoining room, the drapes hitting her on the head as she parted them and entered its space. She turned her head slightly and said: ‘But myths are there to be tested and proved wrong,’ she said.
******
‘But there can never be a deal. Nor a will to let it happen,’ she said. She was sitting at its edge, looking up at the sky, with her legs and feet crossed. Kassobra’s mind focused on the images and words that her father had told her. Her shadow slightly visible. Silence all around the old settlement. No sound from mud cats, birds or any animals, nocturnal or daylight. It’s magical up here. One world. One way. One world. One track. One key. One occupant. Keep repeating those words. The words leaving her mind and travelling towards the image she saw. It’s larger energy and shapes taking shape. She could see him now. Atis is unwell. It is sick. Internally and externally. War and the dark army of the Balor are here. How and what am I to do? The images were forming. She could see him walking towards her. The same image I remember as a child, but a younger face. She tried to touch him. ‘Father,’ she whispered. Her body and surroundings still. His hand was on her face, yet she could see his face. The same blue eyes as me still. They greeted. Her mind focused and so still. ‘My love. My one true legacy. This day was coming. You were chosen long before I, or you,’ he said. His words smooth, Kassobra’s mind dancing around his image and words. She heard them again. Longer and forming in her mind. ‘But I have no powers beyond my Shamanic nature rituals. I have nothing in my possession to help destroy this evil,’ she said. ‘Your power is your family linage, its bloodline and its future. You have the blood of the last Atis Shaman, from the old world and the mind of the new one,’ he said, as his body moved like a soft breeze. ‘Your hair is so dark and short and moving to the breeze,’ she said. Kassobra smiled within. Her eyes closed, her lips moving rapidly.
‘Go to Glow Mountain. There you will find the source and destroy it. It’s her only weakness. She does not have the full powers of the underworld prince yet. She needs his eye to be opened,’ he said and reached his hand towards her. ‘They will find you and give you the final tool. Follow the passage under you as the Tarracullan Pr
ince has rightly said. Trust him my daughter, my own legacy, I need to go. There are dark energies that are at play all around our universe that Atis must survive. It cannot return to the old or the dark ways. Go now. Find the source,’ as his final words whispered away and echoed around Kassobra’s head, her mind slowly regaining its awareness. She opened her eyes and stood to get up slowly. Take in the moment. A deep breath. She turned. I know my task. She saw him limp around in the darkness. A few hands in front of her face. His physique almost at hers. She heard a whisper in her ear. ‘Is it done?’ She nodded and gently closer her eyes. They moved away together towards the middle of the settlement.
C H A P T E R 56
Nightcrawlers
She quickened her pace. I feel no pain. Small drops formed on her forehead. Aluum, with the bird over her head, passing the same landscape. They told me the path to my final destination would be the same, with the same obstacles and the same characteristics. But the mission was clear. I had to reach the highest point, a rock formation that was like no other on the planet. She stopped and looked at the landscape. She wiped her lips and blew the dust away. The bird swooped above her head, after another mission. It opened its beak and gurgled its contents into Aluum’s cupped hands. She drank its contents - its colour like the surface. My stomach no longer makes noises. Yet, my energy is high. How many days since I was re-born again? Four, maybe five days. She thought back to the great book in the library and its timeline, the story and where she was meant to be. ‘I am close,’ she said with relief.
The air around us is becoming dustier. More swirls and less visible. She stopped to check the surrounding area. She could make out a new formation in the distance. I have seen such shapes before, but they had vanished. This is different. The swirling air and dust is making the walking and sight impossible. The kingfisher was no longer above her head but she heard its call in the distance. He is safe. I need to find shelter and fast. Her steps becoming heavier and slower. She covered her face with her hands. There it is. She lay behind it. Its sharp edges thin but it is bigger than me and will protect me. She leaned her back against it and watched the dust swirl on each side of the slab. Aluum picked out a sharp polished stone from her waist pocket. The green leaf is now full of dust, yet the contents remained in contact. She put it in her right hand and began to cut into the rock. She tapped it harder. And again. The zero is perfect. She straightened the first number. Shuffling her body sideways, she looked at it. Smiling, she said: ‘My best work yet!’ ‘Day 444, My final day,’ she said.
The storm has eased, the dust less intense. But my brown skin is much darker and redder. Why? She grabbed her items, touched the stone with her number and walked on. The air was clearing. My energy intact and my mind focused. Set your intentions on the formation in the distance. She quickened her stride and broke into a run. Drops began to fall from her head and down her face. The red dust becoming mixed with the drops, with jagged lines of liquids running down her body, leaving fresh lines. She heard the kingfisher’s whistle. Such loyalty. Looking at the bird, she saw its feathers clean and drops of water flickered from its moving body. We are so close. She ran faster. The air was clear. The dust no more. Looking ahead, she saw it come into full view. ‘It was not vanishing like the previous images. This was different,’ she shouted out smiling. Her breath getting faster, she could feel and hear her heartbeat moving faster and faster. Her pulse was racing. My feet and legs are in tune with the beat of my heart. My mind and body is moving faster and faster. I am so close. Aluum slowed her pace. Her heart beat remained the same fast beat. She stopped and leant forward, staring at her feet and hands, her breath heavy.
Part of her chest clothing had come loose. Increasing the pace, Aluum pulled it away. With her chest exposed she watched her breasts moving to the heartbeat and rhythm of her run. She moved a hand to her waist holder and touched the contents. It was still there. She stopped, bent over and breathed heavy as she looked at the ground, her eyes on the soil. A different colour to normal, with green vegetation on all sides. I’m close. Looking up, Aluum saw the outline of the new structure. It did not vanish. Nor move. But no life around yet, but can sense it calling me. She moved to the first stone, then the next. Each the same as the previous one. Cold and smooth on my feet. Vegetation growing between the rocks. She leapt from step to step. Higher. I need to go higher. Aluum stopped at the final step and looked through the door. ‘Is this the rectangle? It has to be here,’ she said panting between each word. Just as the great book had stated. She looked over the edge and could make out the surface. Liquid glistening and moving, a water voice echoing in the chamber below. Looking around, she saw the kingfisher had arrived. Empty handed, it watched her. The kingfisher shook its head hastily. It knows what I am thinking. Aluum gave the bird a long smile. She turned and stepped forward. Stepping over the edge, her face gaining on its surface below.
******
Zirva glanced at her arms and legs. The skin is breathing. The muscles are moving. It’s colour changing. My feet… She heard the bones creaking and cracking. I feel his presence inside me. It was beginning. The transformation process has begun, after the first kill. Her mind raced back to the final meeting of the circle. She looked out at the valley below. ‘The clear blue sky is unaware of the changes that are occurring or the sun on Atis, as its shines on everything across the planet,’ she said out loud, holding her arms towards the sky, the breeze dancing with her robe on the ledge. The final killing had been the best. A simple slit to the throat. The small woman had merely breathed her last breath and fell into my arms. The sixth and final killing was the most significant. Its number revered in Atisian numerology history. Her death the easiest and most pleasing, her age the youngest. She smiled at the images of the circle’s death and held her arms out again towards the sun. It beat down on her arms as she felt the shapes inside and the morphing process take her over. She walked back to the cabin, taking each step slow and counting as she reached the rooftop. Shuffling around, she caught its shadow following her around to inspect the final ceremony.
‘The highest point, the highest breath, the highest energy. I am one. I am now he and she. We will return,’ she said aloud holding her arms aloft. No signs of us being interrupted. Looking eastwards, she said: ‘I feel the energy of the new moon and the dawn of a new age for Atis. It was a long wait, but it was here. We are ready,’ she said softly. The night crawlers were in the shade around the rooftop. Resting. The night awaits them and their message, once the full morphing is complete. She smiled at the watching birds.
Zirva removed her robe and entered the water. Oh, the coldness. The raw temperature of the water at this summit. I crave this rawness and isolation. The water hit her face. It ran down her skin, some a light brown, some a blue-black colour as she watched the morphing continue. She held her face under the coldness for a long period and let out a scream. Her eyes closed. Zirva recalled her brother. Her family. Her father. Her childhood friends. Her first lover. Her second lover. And her last. Their faces came into her mind, fresh and vivid. Her face was expressionless. Any emotions and or attachment are deep and dormant or no longer there. ‘I am no longer that woman. I am his highest vessel. His light and the carrier of the new dawn and new power,’ she said as the water continued to swirl around her. Her body changing colour and her skin continued to breath and form new shapes and curves. Looking at her chest, she rubbed her hands down its flat surface. Her mind racing towards the final process she had planned and how it would unfold. I sense their presence on the mountain. And their tools of magic.
Dipping her head under the water, she smiled as her lips parted and her mouth opened. Her teeth shimmered a dark colour. Her tongue moving in and out, as its shape grew and grew. I feel his presence in every part of my body, inside and outside. On the roof, his powerful eye was watching me from within. And in my body and mind, his words and power are taking me over. The woman they call Zirva is no longer. She stepped out of the water. The final few drops streaming
from her head and down her body, flowing over the new parts. She watched the water as it streamed past her, down the pipes and out below and down the mountain. Wet footprints lead from the path to the mirror. She reached for her robe. She pulled its dark hood off her head and then dropped it. Each side open, she saw its inner deep purple colour in the mirror. Zirva pulled it together and watched as the golden rope that held it changed back to black. My entire exterior colour covering my naked body inside. The water soaking into the purple exterior. She bent closer to the mirror. Watching the changing colours, she moved her fingers down each side of her face. Then she moved her hands with the water, and slid down her skin. Not a blemish or a spot. Zirva moved her face closer to the mirror. She closed her eyes and thought of him. She felt his shadow on her back and moving across her face. His dark energy inside me. My love. She closed her eyes tighter. Breathing deep, holding and exhaling, the breath hitting the mirror and her nostrils. Holding her breath a moment longer, she released it, opening her eyes to see the breaths fogging up the mirror. Filling the entire mirror, she could not see her face anymore. Zirva pulled one hand from the robe’s pocket and gently pulled it across the mirror, revealing one eye and then two eyes. Its deep yellowness with black dots staring back at her. ‘New eyes. A new shape. my real eyes,’ she whispered.
