The Rising

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The Rising Page 10

by SC Huggins


  Over their gasps she continued, “When I told her of the black stone, she didn’t believe me, she never believed in me. Now, she wants to create a half-mortal to destroy the stone.”

  The Dejis burst into laughter at the impossibility of it. Their laughter tinged with relief, the Matriarch could just as easily be here to summon them to appear before Mother for their execution.

  And they wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

  “That is laughable,” Yas said.

  The Matriarch relaxed her tense wings and continued. “Exactly, I no longer trust her judgment. Perhaps uncountable years of immortality have derailed it.”

  A number of the Dejis chuckled nervously at that, but Ager’s next question quieted them.

  “So, you only left because you no longer trust her judgment?” Ager prodded, each word delivered in a tone so soft it was clearly deceptive.

  The Matriarch never flinched. “Yes,” she replied her voice laced with the pain the decision had cost her. The Matriarch panted for breath, “As painful a decision as it was, I do not want to be on the losing side. Seems to me our Mother is not taking this as urgent as she should.”

  Yas frowned. “Do you think she is humoring us?”

  “No, she is doing something; it’s just that her ideas are too unreasonable for me to comprehend.”

  Yas nodded, satisfied with her words.

  She looked over the Dejis, and then turned slowly to Yas. “I started to think you may be right, we need a change. So, what is the plan?”

  Yas smiled at her slowly. “You have to give us something we can hold on to before you join us.”

  The Matriarch stiffened, and Yas shook his head. “Simple, you can afford it.” He stopped to glance at the others. “Does the black stone exists?” he bit out.

  The Matriarch hesitated, feeling the weight of their expectant gazes; she felt a twinge of shame and guilt at this path she was about to take. She had never betrayed a confidence, let alone that of her creator.

  “Yes,” it was a whisper, but one that resounded in the ears of her listeners. The Dejis stared at each other with hope, daring and resolve tightening the muscles around their white eyes.

  And yet, they needed more.

  The Matriarch turned to face Yas. He met her gaze and held it. “Yes,” she repeated, this time in a stronger voice.

  Yas smiled at her in welcome. They were complete; they could begin.

  “So how do we use the black stone to destroy our powerful Creator?” one Deji asked enthusiastically.

  Yas smiled. “I believe the Matriarch will know the answer to that.”

  “I am not sure exactly how powerful the stone is,” the Matriarch replied tentatively, “but I know it has considerably more power than any of us. So, if we transfer our powers into it, it should become powerful enough to destroy The Ancestral Mother,” she concluded to smiles from the Dejis. “But we will lose our powers forever if we fail—”

  “And if we win,” someone piped up, “what then, how do we get our powers back?”

  The Matriarch shrugged. “Simple. With the universe under our control, we will no longer need the black stone—”

  “So, we destroy it,” Ager returned with a satisfied laugh.

  “Yes!”

  “Mother!” one of the Dejis spat in disgust. “I know you like to dream, but to destroy the black stone? Impossible.”

  “Use your head,” Ager hissed, “we can tap enough power from the blood of mortals to destroy it.”

  “The blood of mortals?” the Matriarch asked.

  “This is too much,” another added.

  “How can the black stone be that powerful?” one of the seven wondered aloud. “Why did she create it? There have been rumors...” the Deji trailed off and swung his gaze to the Matriarch and waited expectantly.

  The Matriarch hesitated, but Yas and Ager turned to her with expectant eyes. It was a question they had asked as mortals and argued about as Dejis still.

  “The powers of dead witches are shed into the stone—”

  “I have heard that before,” Ager said, “but it seems too convenient and unlike Mother to create something so powerful just for that purpose.”

  “She thought to live on Uwan,” the Matriarch said.

  Dazed, feathers twitched as they shifted positions, waiting impatiently for the Matriarch to continue. Her reply had suddenly become more important than the question of their success.

  “Yes.”

  Even the ever smooth Yas looked shocked.

  “From the beginning, she created the black stone almost the same way as she had created the ancestral realm, placed it on Uwan, and created a powerful key to unlock it, for one purpose only.” The Matriarch paused to stare hard into their dismayed faces. “To reside for a time whenever she descended to Uwan,” she finished to gasps of shock from the Dejis. “But look at the facts; we were never her first creation. Our predecessors were destroyed only after showing unstable signs, if not, we wouldn’t have been created.”

  “So, the key unlocks the black stone?”

  “Yes. They are exactly of the same shape but the key is far smaller in size and power.” The Matriarch spread her wings as she added, “but like The Ancestral Mother said, it has all the power you need to rule. In the beginning, she used the key to lock the black stone before returning to the ancestral realm.”

  “The key got power from Mother, how can we use it?”

  The Matriarch shifted uncomfortably. “I—”

  “The same way all ancestral creatures feed on power- the blood of mortals,” Yas snapped impatiently. “We ‘re wasting time—”

  “But why didn’t she destroy the black stone?” Ager asked in a genuinely puzzled tone.

  “If she did,” Yas returned, “where would the powers of witches go to?”

  “I’m still not entirely comfortable with that answer,” Ager replied cautiously.

  “I am also not comfortable rebelling against my creator!” Yas snapped.

  “You look smug, not uncomfortable,” Ager hissed. “Explain why?” he shot the question at the Matriarch.

  “I don’t really know why, perhaps she didn’t want to lay to waste something so powerful.”

  “You are not sure.” It was a statement, not a question.

  The Matriarch hesitated again, causing Ager to narrow his eyes as he stared hard at her. “You are not sure.” It was an affirmation.

  “No,” she admitted.

  “Bring the key,” Ager ordered curtly.

  The assembly paused even as the clouds around them pulsed with their shock on hearing those unexpected orders. As the Matriarch studied Yas’ slack-jawed features, she was able to read Yas’ shock at Ager’s order clearly.

  Yas came out of his stupor. “Certainly not.”

  “Did you really think I would have gone along with the plan without setting my eyes on that stone?”

  “You do not need to see the key; we all know Mother gave it to me,” Yas argued.

  “Just as you don’t need the black stone you have been asking the Matriarch about,” Ager returned with a sharp bite of impatience in his voice.

  Yas clenched his fists in anger and stared hard at Ager who returned his gaze with a steady one of his own. Yas swiveled with abrupt movements and with a sharp flip of his great wings in Ager’s face, he was gone.

  The Matriarch released a pent up breath.

  Unconcerned, Ager turned to the Matriarch. “You will tell us more about the key and the stone,” his voice brooked no argument.

  The Matriarch sighed loud and impatient. She was tired of all the questions. But Ager just raised an eyebrow, rocked back on his toes and waited.

  “Mother always wanted to be close to her creations,” she started in a bored tone. “She created the great black stone to live on Uwan with a smaller stone she could fit in to unlock the stone when she exited. The black stone feeds on blood like other ances—”

  “Mortal blood?”

  “Ye
s, mortal blood—”

  “Why would the stone need to feed when its not a creature?”

  The Matriarch shrugged. “I don’t know. As the creator, Mother didn’t need to feed it and we wouldn’t need to feed it as its power will be enough to do what we need—”

  “If we want to do anything more, we feed it with mortal blood?”

  “Yes. The key must also be fed enough to help it unlock the great black stone,” she paused, “If we find it.”

  “That is a lot of blood,” Ager said, sounding vaguely excited, “if—”

  “I’m not comfortable with the number of times we have mentioned blood,” one of the seven interrupted, “since mortals have not been created, how did she feed them?”

  “She used her power,” Yas answered impatiently.

  “If the key is powerful enough to control Uwan, imagine what the great stone can do,” a Deji said.

  “Maybe it can destroy Uwan even,” someone muttered reverently.

  “And Mother didn’t destroy it all these years,” Ager wondered aloud.

  “I think the stone has a healing power of sorts for mort—”

  “I want to know what you know, not what you think,” Ager dismissed.

  “H-How—” The Matriarch sputtered, feeling a bit insulted at Ager’s tone.

  “Mother is not here; things are different here. You are not the favored one, adapt to the change.”

  Yas flew in before the Matriarch could reply.

  He handed the key to Ager without a word. The Dejis immediately gathered around. Their curiosity palpable.

  The Matriarch understood. The key was as close to the black stone as they could get, an object whose power was surpassed only by The Ancestral Mother. There would never be anything like it, not in the ancestral realm and not in Uwan.

  Ager curled his hands around the squared shaped stone, gripping it carefully by his tapered white talons. Features drawn in reverent lines, he held it out. On one side of the square, an eerie mortal eye complete with eyelashes lay closed.

  The eye was so strange and so unexpected that the Matriarch felt an indescribable feeling run through her. Fear at one who could cause such an exquisite object to come to being.

  She wasn’t alone.

  Ager dropped the stone.

  Yas caught it before it would fall to nothingness of the ancestral realm.

  “Are you crazy?” his voice rang in anger. “You ask for the stone; I leave a meeting I called for to bring it only for you to drop it?”

  “Apologies,” Ager returned distractedly as he rubbed his hands together. “You never mentioned the eye,” the words were accusing.

  “We are both Dejis,” the Matriarch said in a trying tone, “I have never seen it. I do know the great stone has the same eye, which is where the key fits into.”

  “So, the key feeds on mortal blood through the eye?” Yas asked.

  “We will find out,” the Matriarch returned coolly.

  They were quiet as they meditated on the implications of what they had heard. Seeing the key up close was a shocking reality of what or who they were going up against and the Matriarch could see caution in a few eyes.

  “We now have more knowledge than when we started. What we have learned is more than adequate.” He paused significantly. “Let’s begin,” Yas said, eyes shining with fervor.

  “Something else,” the Matriarch said without inflection.

  Their high spirits dropped as they turned to stare at her. She met their eyes unflinchingly. “The seal.”

  “The seal?” Yas laughed. “What did you think we were doing since we’ve had the key?”

  Ager eyed her open-mouthed shocked expression. “We discovered that by pooling our powers together, the seal will be broken.”

  “Have you tried it?” she asked, quickly recovering.

  “Of course, but we didn’t step out,” Yas added.

  “You look...dazed,” Ager prodded quietly. “Are you alright?”

  “Of course.”

  DIVINA, THE UTAY TO The Ancestral Mother stared suspiciously at the new Sypa. She was aghast at what she was hearing and Wereu’s stubborn demand to give the details to The Ancestral Mother herself. This earthling witch, was the madwoman, Wereu of the Chaldi and a descendant of the Matriarch. She had recently been granted access to enter the ancestral realm and here she was already itching to see The Ancestral Mother.

  Divina stared at the newcomer, could she be serious? Or might she just be seeking The Ancestral Mother’s attention? Divina’s gaze narrowed on the Sypa. She studied her as the once mad witch looked around with wide awed eyes. No, Divina abruptly decided, this one was too new to be that cunning and if she was anything as powerful as her sire, then it would be imperative she saw their eternal Mother. If she were mortal, she would be wary of anyone descended from or close to the Matriarch’s lineage- they were that impressive.

  THE ANCESTRAL MOTHER leaned forward eagerly, smiling as she listened to the Matriarch, unable to curb her excitement. The Deji gave her much joy. It was times like this that gave her hope and did a poor task of erasing her suspicions. She was still laughing at the Matriarch’s latest tale when she sensed Divina outside the seal, seeking access to the most sacred place.

  “Welcome.” The Ancestral Mother broke the seal and granted Divina entrance into the innermost ancestral realm, her abiding place. The boundary limiting it broke to admit the Utay.

  Divina floated forward to stand erect before The Ancestral Mother. “The Sypa just made the crossing,” she reported in quiet tones. The Ancestral Mother glanced at the Matriarch before they swung as one to look at Divina. The Ancestral Mother’s eyes narrowed on the Deji.

  Divina hesitated. The Matriarch pressed her lips together and shook her head ruefully, a sure sign of her rising displeasure at the interruption. The Ancestral Mother sat forward in her seat as if to wring the words from her.

  “She reports that some Dejis might have crossed to Uwan,” she finished even more quietly.

  They stared.

  The Matriarch made a strangled sound and demanded Divina repeats herself.

  She did.

  The Matriarch began to laugh uncontrollably.

  “Surely, you couldn’t have heard her right.”

  Not taking her gaze off The Ancestral Mother, Divina snapped, “I am sure I did,” she turned to cast her fellow Deji a tight smile, “we all speak the same language after all.”

  “Apologies for demanding you repeat yourself,” the Matriarch offered grudgingly, all traces of mirth gone.

  Divina’s lips twisted as she continued to hold her Mother’s gaze. “I might also have demanded the same of the Sypa when I first heard her,” she admitted.

  The golden lines of her face remained calm, but inside, The Ancestral Mother knew disappointment. And relief, the sooner Yas moved ahead with his plans, the sooner his chaos would be put to right.

  They waited.

  “Call the Sypa in here,” The Ancestral Mother ordered without inflection.

  Divina stilled in shock.

  Her creator understood, and ignored it.

  A Sypa spent centuries in the outer void even after the seven-day maturation before earning the right to appear before The Ancestral Mother in her innermost ancestral realm. Curbing her impatience with effort, The Ancestral Mother allowed the Utay her skepticism. She had earned it.

  “The Sypa?” Divina asked. If there was still a question of how much the Matriarch was favored, this was it. But Divina had never begrudged the Matriarch her special position, she was the greatest witch and Divina had worshipped her with absolute devotion for many years as a mortal. As a Sypa, she had looked forward to meeting the first Deji and the one closest to their Mother. Until she found out the Matriarch had objected to her selection as a Deji and a Utay.

  But time has been credited with an ability to cure many ills. And with time, as she witnessed the selection, transition and ascension of other Dejis and saw how Mother called on their opinions
and suggestions before choosing a Deji, she understood. She understood, truly, the Matriarch must have had her reasons- and a better choice for the position of a Deji and an Utay.

  They had freedom of thought and choice.

  It should have been the end of the squabble- if the Matriarch hadn’t made it so obvious. So, in response, Divina’s hackles rose whenever she was near the one she worshipped as a mortal.

  Now, The Ancestral Mother didn’t deign to reply, only continued staring with an unmistakable tinge of impatience. Divina cast a sideways glance at the Matriarch, who just shrugged.

  Divina drew herself up. “But that is impossible,” she huffed.

  The Ancestral Mother rose and floated toward Divina. “When you walked in,” she began, “you looked shocked and...disappointed and fearful?”

  Divina nodded.

  “Why?” she smiled gently, “what would have been impossible is what you just reported. Usher the Sypa in here,” she said, floating to her throne.

  Divina still looked confused, but moved to usher the Sypa in, the first of such occurrence in the innermost realm of the ancestral holies. White form quivered from hazy to solid as Wereu floated in. She looked from her Matriarch to The Ancestral Mother, awe and wonder widening her white eyes to its limit. And Divina couldn’t help but imagine this must have been how she gaped at the Matriarch and Mother at their first meeting.

  The Ancestral Mother summoned the Sypa closer.

  Wereu trembled, but didn’t make a move towards her creator.

  “Go,” Divina urged softly.

  Wereu glanced at her uncertainly and Divina nodded in encouragement.

  Slowly, so slowly that The Ancestral Mother vibrated in impatience waiting for her, the earthling, mad Wereu of the Chaldi, moved closer to the throne. Mother sighed when she finally covered the long distance to the throne.

  She looked her over, contemplating. The Ancestral Mother waited until the Sypa grew comfortable enough to meet her gaze.

  “Divina has informed me you claim some Dejis transferred to Uwan during your ascension. What else do you have to report that is so important?” demanded The Ancestral Mother.

 

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