Girl of Myth and Legend

by Giselle Simlett

  It takes us another hour to get to the side of the mountain, and when we do, we’re met with the sight of an optius built into the mountain itself. My hopes lift. An optius is a sanctuary for wanderers who get caught out in the open at night with no hope of reaching a safe place. They can be anything: a shack, a hole or, as in our case, an opening in the mountain. Cast upon them is a charm of protection, which burns a symbol into the sanctuary so Chosen know what it is. The symbol only becomes effective when the light of the moons touch it, so if it’s a moonless night, the optius is an ineffective place for protection. This optius is visible from the outside, which makes me feel uneasy, but it’s all we have, and it will make sure nothing gets in. Far better to be within it than out on this flat land, and besides, my leg is laborious—it won’t last for much longer.

  ‘In here,’ I say, rocks cracking under my talons as I go towards it. I don’t hear my keeper following and crane my neck back to look at her. She’s holding herself, choking on tears she won’t let come. I pity her, I really do, but there’s no time for her to cry: the sun is already setting on the horizon, the sky filled with shades of red and orange. ‘In here,’ I say louder.

  ‘He’s dead.’

  ‘You don’t know that.’

  ‘He’s dead.’

  ‘You don’t—’

  ‘He’s dead. They killed him.’

  ‘Even if they did, that realisation isn’t going to help us now, is it?’

  She tilts her head down so that her hair covers her face, and she walks forward. I lead her towards the mouth of the optius, glancing back at her a few times.

  It’s not as hot inside, though it’s dark. I search for an inscription in the wall, and when I find it I turn to my keeper.

  ‘Press your hand against this,’ I say.

  I can’t see her well enough to know if she’s listening, but after a moment she comes beside me.

  ‘All Chosen who create an optius put an inscription within it,’ I tell her, ‘and it can only be activated when another Chosen uses their magic on it.’

  ‘I have no magic,’ she says in a detached voice.

  ‘You don’t have any power yet, that doesn’t mean the magic isn’t there.’

  ‘Heh. Sersu said something like that…’ She presses her hand against it, and the inscription begins to glow. Like veins in the wall, the glow moves through the cave, brightening our surroundings.

  ‘I did that?’ she says.

  ‘Not exactly. This is magic created a long time ago by whoever made this optius. Your magic just triggered it.’

  There isn’t much in here, only an empty sack that was probably once filled with food, and a few painted drawings of beasts and dark swirls on the wall. I even notice one that says ‘as hee’ with a circle drawn under it.

  ‘Sit down,’ I say to her. ‘You’re probably exhausted. I know I am.’

  She doesn’t move, staring at the ground. I see the maiden in her eyes, her father, Jacob, all of those she watched die. I’m adamant about refraining from physical contact with her, but at this rate she’ll lose her sanity in grief. I nudge her with my snout. That seems to awaken a little bit of her, as she gives me a fleeting glare.

  ‘Sit,’ I command, and she does, well away from me.

  I watch the sun disappear behind the mountains through the opening of the cave. Darkness reigns now. I shiver, a ferocious cold biting at me. The damned Chosen who created this optius didn’t even put a heat charm in the inscription.

  My keeper wraps her arms around herself, her eyes wide in surprise at the sudden chill. I could keep her warm. I should keep her warm. I am her kytaen and I did promise that I would protect her, regardless of the fact that I’m supposed to anyway. There’s something repellent about being close, though, and—I shudder—intimate with her.

  ‘Gr-great choice of place to pro-protect us from the cold, Korren,’ she says, a little while later. ‘Five stars.’

  ‘Your sense of humour is returning, then.’

  ‘Sh-shut up.’

  ‘And I didn’t bring us here to protect us from the cold.’

  There’s a noise in the distance, a sound that causes me to quiver.

  ‘What is that?’ she asks.

  ‘Curses and demons,’ I reply. ‘Night and darkness.’

  The sound is of beasts screaming, crying, laughing, yelling, though as far as I know, they take no physical form. They are not like a maiden that can be destroyed; they are the night, and night cannot be destroyed.

  ‘I-I don’t like it,’ she says. ‘Why does it s-sound like there are so many?’

  ‘They are legion.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘If you were to step outside right now, what do you think would happen?’

  ‘I-I’m guessing it wouldn’t end well for me.’

  ‘You’d be torn apart.’

  ‘Wonderful. Remind me: wh-why did I want to come to Duwyn so badly?’

  ‘Because day is something of wonder, but for there to be something so beautiful in the world, there must be something just as dark and terrible to balance it out. Otherwise, such a place couldn’t exist.’

  ‘Y-you Duwyn people are so obsessed with frickin’ balance.’

  ‘Are you cold?’

  ‘No. I’m ju-just stuttering and sh-shaking and turning blue for the fu-fun of it.’

  ‘Are you scared?’

  ‘I’m perfectly dandy, th-thanks for asking. Yes, I’m scared.’

  ‘We’ll be safe as long as we’re in here. Look, the moons are at their brightest.’

  Time passes in silence. The night is screaming, howling, crackling. It’s not as if I haven’t been in a situation like this before, but I can’t help but feel afraid. I wonder, will this constant fear ever come to an end? Will we ever have a moment of peace? With the only living Pulsar as my keeper, the answer is probably no.

  ‘The wind’s strong,’ she says.

  ‘That’s not the wind,’ I say.

  ‘Do I wa-want to know what it is?’

  ‘It has something to do with those demons I mentioned.’

  ‘There are so many of them.’ My keeper’s shudders become violent, with teeth chattering and lips almost blue.

  I suppose I have no choice. ‘Come here,’ I say.

  She cranes her neck to me, though it seems more trouble than it’s worth.

  ‘I can keep you warm,’ I continue.

  It takes her a long time to say this sentence, and I wonder if she should’ve bothered to speak: ‘I-I… rather… become… a-an… icicle… than… use… y-you… as… a… blan… ket.’

  ‘Then you will not be cold for long. Death is warm, they say.’

  She stares at me, unblinking.

  ‘Lock away your stubbornness for tomorrow and be warm tonight,’ I say.

  ‘I can’t,’ she manages to say.

  I grunt. ‘You really are hopeless.’

  ‘No… I-I… I’m too cold… t-to move.’

  I stand up and lie next to her, the wisps of my shadow-like flames reaching out to her. She stares at them for a moment.

  ‘Th-they’re warm,’ she says.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Will they h-hurt me?’

  ‘No, not you.’

  She touches them. ‘So warm.’ Her hand rests on my skin beneath the flames and I shiver. What a strange reaction for a beast such as me! But then, she’s never touched this form so gently before. It’s as if her cold hand causes tender warmth to erupt within the depths of my body, and the pulling I constantly feel wills me to reach out to her. I don’t. I let her come to me. Though it takes a while, she allows her obstinacy to diminish and presses herself against me. A soft moan escapes from her lips.

  ‘So warm…’ she mutters.

  I inwardly agree.

  Hours pass, and though the noises outside are just as fierce and unrelenting as earlier, I manage to make them distant enough to not be at the forefront of my mind. Tiredness creeps up on me, begging me to rest, but I don’t
fall into well-needed sleep, even with my throbbing leg.

  I can’t see my keeper, only feel. When she talks, I can tell her health has improved.

  ‘Did your other keepers hate you?’ she asks me.

  ‘Why do you ask?’ I say.

  ‘I was wondering.’

  ‘Maybe they did. Most feel nothing.’

  ‘And that bothers you?’

  ‘…It’s not that kytaen want to be loved by them—we just want to be something.’

  ‘Equal,’ she says.

  ‘Yes,’ I agree. ‘To matter.’

  ‘Instead you’re treated like tools, passed around, even if you’re wearing down.’

  ‘We do not wear down,’ I growl.

  ‘Yes you do. Inside you do. Physically, everything may be perfect, but you can’t tell me your burden, no, your sorrow doesn’t tear at you.’

  ‘You know nothing of kytaen.’

  She moves so that I’m able to see her. ‘No, but I’ve been around you long enough to know that the way you’re acting isn’t normal. To defy a Chosen isn’t good, right? To do that you must be so worn down that you feel as if your life is extinguishing, and when that happens, your survival instincts kick in. Suddenly, a life that had no meaning is significant. Suddenly, the impassivity, the nothingness, turns to something. Even if it’s against everything you’ve known, you’ll defy it all to survive. Am I wrong?’

  Frustration. Such an emotion has gripped me ever since I met this girl. Frustration that she knows so much about me when all I’ve done is try to conceal myself from her, because the truth in her words is apparent, because she’s not wrong, because perhaps she knows this pain well. Yes, she does. She has felt a similar pain, a similar loneliness. She, too, has been pushed to the edge.

  ‘It’s strange,’ she says. ‘I barely know you and yet our soul-binding makes me feel connected with you, even if it’s not as strong now. Like, right now I know you’re bothered about something, agitated. I’m guessing it’s over what I just said, right? ’Cause I hit it on the head. Why would something like that annoy you so much? Is it wrong for me to know you?’ She stares at me for a moment, and then smiles. ‘That’s stupid.’

  I have never seen her smile before, at least, not in the way she is at this moment. Her smiles never usually reach her eyes, and when they have, there was always misery attached to them. Now there is more to it. It’s something of a kind smile, something that tugs at you and draws you closer. It suits her. I can’t tear my gaze from her.

  She huddles closer to me. It’s strange, but I’ve only just become aware of how close we are. ‘Don’t move away,’ she tells me. ‘It’s comfy here.’

  ‘How’s your arm?’

  ‘It’s messed up, it hurts and I have no idea how I’m coping with it right now. I guess I can thank the good combination of my pain threshold and reserve of adrenalin. How about you? Is your leg OK?’

  ‘It’s healing.’

  ‘I’m glad. I wish I could’ve protected myself. You might not have got hurt.’

  ‘I’ve been out of action for a long time,’ I comment. ‘I usually could’ve avoided getting hurt.’

  ‘Still, you got me out alive. I never thanked you for that.’

  ‘There’s no need,’ I say quickly. ‘I’m supposed to do that. The purpose of my—’

  ‘I don’t want to be the one to keep you chained,’ she says. ‘I need you, but one day, when I can protect myself,’ she yawns, ‘you won’t need to follow anyone’s orders.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I say softly, but she doesn’t reply, already having drifted to sleep. She is breathing softly, her chest rising and falling.

  ‘I don’t want to be the one to keep you chained.’

  As if for a moment the world only exists of us two entities, I realise that being with her is suffocating me, every passing moment making me feel as if something inside of me is going to break. Before Nara, I had been senseless, never knowing what it was to live. When I lost her, when I knew what it was to feel and hope and dream, just to have it taken away from me, I deadened my soul, purged myself of all feeling, and in that numbness I knew no pain or joy. I just was. But since I met the little lion, something within me has slowly shifted, slowly and almost unnoticed. Being with her is changing me. And change, in my experience, is never well met.

  LEONIE

  SPIDER WEB

  I don’t dream of Dad and Jacob like I thought I would; I dream of nothingness, of an unfathomable emptiness. Likewise, when I wake up, I don’t cry for Dad and Jacob like I thought I would; I just glance around my surroundings with a vacant look, realising how I’ve nuzzled myself into Korren’s beastly form. I’m sure I would feel some sort of embarrassment at being close to him like this, but after yesterday’s events, all feeling has dispersed from me. His shadows are warm, a little too warm. A stream of daylight pierces through the cave, bringing with it an immense heat so opposite to last night’s cold.

  ‘Are you awake?’ I’m surprised at how dead my voice is.

  ‘Yes,’ Korren replies.

  ‘We’re still here.’

  ‘Where are we supposed to be?’

  ‘The Imperium.’

  ‘They’ll come. Replica first, probably, just to scout the area.’

  ‘When they do come, will they take me to the Imperium?’

  Korren yawns, revealing his sharp set of teeth. ‘Undoubtedly.’

  I stand up, stretching my stiff joints. Everything hurts. My arm feels lighter today, and when I take a glance at it, all I see is my blood-soaked bandage. My heartbeat quickens. I don’t think it’s healing, but at least it doesn’t hurt as much. I glance at Korren’s wounded leg: the swelling has decreased, though it’s still raw, and, to be honest, gross to look at. Both of us left the haze barely alive, and though we may have escaped it, we still might die because of it.

  As we leave the cave, I glance around: the mountains are still here, and the vast, scorched plain remains just that. Korren walks ahead without hesitation, but my eyes keep a look out for traces of night.

  ‘Where we going?’ I ask him.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘You must at least know what region we’re in.’

  ‘It’s hard to say, this place being cursed and all.’

  ‘So what do we do?’

  ‘Find water for you, and then hope the Imperium come. They should be here any time now.’

  ‘Shouldn’t we stay put, then?’

  ‘If you like, but you’re going to become dehydrated.’

  ‘Stay safe in a cave and dehydrate, or walk through a deserted land under a blazing sun in the hopes of finding water. Hmm. My choices aren’t very good.’

  ‘Think of this then: that boy, Demetri, used his magic to change the destination of the portal. Even though we didn’t end up in the right place, he might know where we are. If we stay put, we’re only making it easier for the rebels to find us.’

  ‘My choices aren’t improving then, huh? Well, we’d better get going. Don’t want to be out till it’s dark, do we?’

  The heat is like a weight, gravity feeling as if it’s trying to drag me down. My lips feel leathery, cracked, just like this bleak place. Every time I swallow it’s like I’m gulping down pins, and I rub my throat. Korren keeps telling me that if an optius is here, then there must be water around here, too, otherwise the Chosen who made it clearly wasn’t very smart when it came to survival. Half an hour passes before Korren speaks.

  ‘Ahead, look.’

  ‘I don’t see anything,’ I say.

  ‘Keep walking.’

  I look up; I can almost see the ripples of heat flowing through the sky, and I’m surprised to find myself wishing it was night again.

  When my gaze returns to looking ahead of me, there’s a small cluster of trees, strange looking ones, though I can’t see the detail from here.

  ‘Am I hallucinating?’ I say. ‘Are those trees… pink?’

  ‘Yes,’ says Korren.

  ‘Y
es to the first question?’

  ‘The latter.’

  ‘And the bark is like a… pearly purple or something.’

  ‘Pearly purple?’

  ‘What? It’s a colour.’ I’m almost hesitant to approach it. ‘I thought we were in the middle of a sweltering desert where trees and life in general shouldn’t exist,’ I say.

  ‘Your observation would be correct in the human realm maybe, but this is Duwyn, and a land of magic can do strange things.’

  ‘Like making the night come alive. Literally.’

  ‘And much more.’

  ‘Look!’ I say, and run towards the trees. There’s a pool of water in the middle of this rather random oasis, the trees arching towards it as if getting ready to drink from it. ‘Sweet Lord, look at that!’ I’m about to jump into it—never having longed for water this badly before—when I remember that getting myself soaked in a spur-of-the-moment outburst won’t do me any favours when night falls. I throw the chilling water onto my mud-stained face and then incline my head towards it, gulping it down. I allow myself sharp intakes of air between swallows, and then sit beside the stream, taking deep breaths as if I’ve run a great distance.

  ‘I feel like I’m still hallucinating,’ I say, glancing at Korren, ‘with coming across this—wh-what are you doing?’ I shout.

  Korren’s beastly body is returning to its human form, and I look away. I hear him splashing the water, cleaning himself and maybe his wound. I risk a glance at him to find he’s still naked.

  ‘Put some clothes on!’ I snap, staring at the ground.

  ‘I don’t have any,’ he replies.

  I grab my backpack and pull out the clothes I was wearing before I changed into the ones I am now. I don’t think they’ll fit him, but the rebel’s outfit…

  ‘D-don’t look, OK?’ I say.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ he says.

  ‘Just stay there!’ I go behind a tree and undress. I quickly put my old clothes back on (a long-sleeved shirt and jeans) and then toss the rebel’s clothes to Korren. ‘Put those on,’ I tell him. He doesn’t tell me whether he’s dressed or not, so I have to ask him. When he tells me he is, I look over to him. He’s sat on a rock, his trouser leg pulled up.