Emergence

by Adrienne Gordon

  I can’t think about who I might have been. I must focus on who I shall become.

  She picked up a book -- the first one her mother directed her to read, and sat in one of the wide chairs that faced the main window. It was an exercise in opulence, made of hard redwood gently bowed into an exquisite latticework of arcs and curves that supported two full and firm cushions. She pulled her knees up under the sweater and propped the book up on them, absently thumbing through the pages.

  No, I’ve got to read this -- I’ve got to learn! If not, this platform will fall, and I’ll have to take a portal back to my brother.

  So she endeavored to read the book, a tome called The Principles of Intermediate Sussa Direction. It was a densely written and dry, full of formulaic prose that she found difficult to decipher. She felt like she was back in school, except none of her friends were around to distract her. A mental key given by Esoica unlocked words as she read, and while she knew she would get used to it, for now it sat on her thoughts like thickest gauze. After only a quarter of a page she found herself gazing longingly out the window on the massive, snow-covered crater, and after a few more lines she had drifted off into a light, lovely sleep.

  When she woke, she found the book was still turned to where she left off.

  Why isn’t there someone to give me any help? she asked herself, as she put the book face-down on the table. There has always been someone to help me; when my riding lessons got tough, good old Stavi would help me get the hang of things. And when I couldn’t pass my formula studies that nice Gerrlia wrote down all I would need to know. She leaned her head against the cold windowpane. Why didn’t mother write down the formula I would need to stabilize this thing? She knows who I am . . . I just want to go home, but the funny thing is that this is home.

  Her mind began playing tricks on her. Every fifteen minutes she would gaze out the window, swearing the cloud bank was higher than it was before, even though her mother said it would be weeks before her small platform would fall. So, after almost two days of restless worrying, and being unable to find anything to distract her, she determinedly plunged into the tome her mother instructed her to learn.

  She read about the foundation of sussa and of the ability to reveal a Ribbon of Transit. She learned how Archsussa didn’t exist before the First Apocalypse, and how only those within a certain radius of the crater were endowed with sussa. She learned that as it was passed down from generation to generation it grew stronger; while mothers might have only been able to make a weak warming sphere their daughters were able to construct a small ribbon.

  The book took her through dozens of exercises, all of which she followed dutifully but could not successfully execute. The words began to run together the lower the sun fell, until finally she set the book down, only having made it one-third through.

  How will I ever read all these books? She sat back, distressed, almost resigned to failure. Bored, she picked up a picture of her mother that sat on the desk. Her mother’s body lay wrapped in two blankets in an outdoor storage shed, and the thought of it made Melissa cringe with emotional pain.

  Was it all for me, in the long run? She ran her hands over the picture, and was intrigued by the pose. It had her mother seeming to lean in sympathy, as if there was something or someone next to her. She pulled the picture out of its frame, and discovered it had been ripped to conceal the identity of who she was with.

  Melissa got up and hurriedly rummaged through the tabletops and drawers, searching for more images, feeling as if this might be a key to explain her younger, distant self. She found many taken of her and her mother, but none below a certain age. She could find none before she was twelve and no infant pictures at all.

  Why? You who were more sentimental than even I, wouldn’t have taken any of them with you when you ran? She stood and surveyed the devastation she had wrought on the tiny room. Paper littered the floor, and drawers sat on their side. She laughed to herself. You’d kill me if you found your room like this. Once more, her eyes were drawn to the wide bookshelves. Somehow, you managed to take all these books with you -- none of these could be bought on the open market. You must have had your journey planned for quite a while. Perhaps you squirreled these out a few at time. She ran her fingers along the weathered spines. These are what were most important to you. They defined you as an Archsussa and you knew they would define me too. We have no need to reread texts -- all that is important stays within our minds, and becomes a part of us. So these are all for me . . . She walked midway down, feeling drawn to one in particular. Her fingers stopped on a thin volume, with a tan spine with a faded inscription. She pulled it out, and suddenly was overwhelmed by the smell of old paper and dust.

  This is what I was meant to find. She ran her fingers along the leather cover, noting how there was extreme wear on the corners. This book holds no sussa. This is older than sussa. She turned the book to open it, yet couldn’t make her fingers push open the covers.

  “Let your intuition be your guide,” said one of the opening passages in her educational texts. “Your sussa enhances your intuition, and the more you trust it, the more successful you shall be.”

  I was meant to find this, and somehow, I know it will all be different when I see what’s inside. She sat with the book in her lap, her expression blank, unsure of how to proceed. I can’t be afraid anymore. Toby won’t come for me, and mother’s gone. I need to face this.

  She opened the book, and found a ripped photo stuck in the spine before the first page. She pulled it out, turned it over, and saw the same girl she saw standing next to the younger version of her mother.

  This is me . . . yet it is not me.

  While appearing to be no more than ten, she could see the girl in the picture possessed the wisdom of an ancient. There was a fire in her eyes that crossed the landscape of time and still burned even though it was in a picture.

  Is she . . . me? Am I an idelfada; a copy of this girl who was? Or was she a copy of me?

  It was in that moment that clues left throughout her life put themselves together. I always felt like Toby, father -- even my mother, knew of this girl. So many half-finished sentences, so many veiled references to someone of terrible power. She looked down at the picture again. I must be some echo of her. Was Toby going to train me to be like her? She put down the picture, and looked at the books around her. I was made to do something, and once done, to be discarded. I feel it to be true as if it were told me. No one expects me to become powerful like this girl, merely adequate enough to perform some function.

  She got to her feet and pulled open the curtains to look down on the crater below. Toby’s camp could just be made out through the thick snow, and it appeared as if his troops were massing for an offensive.

  Am I alone in this world? If I am, then I have two choices; die as a pawn, or survive. I need to learn everything in these books, so if and when the times come that they try to make me go away, I can resist them. Only then can I find my own future.

  An image of the girl next to her mother of the past came back into her, and finally she understood why her expression disturbed her so.

  She had eyes of murder, of matricide. But how could that be, as my mother’s body lies in the next room?

  Chapter 7

  While Melissa had a renewed imperative, she still was only fourteen, and the long days of isolation soon took their toll. Sleepless nights could turn terrifying in an instant, when an overactive mind exaggerates the smallest sound or flash of light. She needed something to keep her company, to keep her mind from consuming itself in manufactured anxieties and fears.

  She found the books on idelfada creation, studied them all, and in a way began to understand herself. The idelfada were among the first that Archsussa created, and they were all animals. Great flying harria to swoop down on enemies; legions of gruga and igra to rip the limbs off one’s foes in the many wars that dominated the Rule of Ionio and Murraghion; ancient Provni Archsussas. War soon became the province of the Archs
ussa, and they waged it with idelfada. Not for many centuries was a human idelfada attempted, and as she read, all early attempts were disastrous.

  She learned human idelfada were always made with a specific purpose in mind, as they could only be copies of one who is or has existed. Human idelfada were used as stand-ins for rulers, as recreations of skilled craftsmen. As Archsussa became corrupted, they made human idelfada in images of people their clients desired to mate with or to kill. It was one of the only selfless acts of the Council of Archsussa that human idelfada creation was banned, as the long-term corruption of society was thought of.

  But she felt she didn’t need a human companion -- something small and furry would do. A Book of Species was in her mother’s collection, and after reviewing it, she decided on trying to create a small aogh.

  Late in the day, under the dimming light of the suns, Melissa sat at a broad table and tried to relax herself. Slowly, she conjured in her mind the details of the picture of the aogh. It had blunt teeth, a plump head containing three wide, golden eyes, and a long, thick bushy tail with four squat legs. When she was younger she saw a couple of them, carried around eternally as pets by pampered, rich girls who deigned to look down on even her.

  How I envied them!

  She focused hard, and tendrils of sussa extended from her illuminated fingertips. Carefully she coaxed them out, and began to weave them into the rough shape of an aogh. Slowly they bound together, and as they did, the form grew brighter and pulsed as if it had a heartbeat. She kept her focus on the picture of the aogh and the kind of animal she imagined it to be; sweet, kind, a little rambunctious and trusting. It taxed her strength, but eventually the tendrils of sussa disappeared, revealing a small furry animal with its eyes closed. She leaned back, tired beyond belief.

  I can’t believe how much that drained me. But I’ve got to finish this quickly. Alright . . . here goes.

  She bent over it, and opened its mouth a little. She blew into its mouth, while imagining its eyes open and alive.

  “Oh my!”

  It chirped, and opened two of its eyes groggily. She held it up and stroked its long, thin fur.

  “You’re alive! I actually made something.” She held it in front of her face, and found all three of its eyes were open. It yawned, and reached out a tiny tan paw to touch her. She put a finger in it, and it gently held on.

  “I’ll call you . . . Nuri, and I’ll take care of you just as if you were real.” She sat back down, cradling Nuri in her lap. “Of course, I’m probably not even real.” She gazed over the books as doubt surfaced in her mind. “Why should I even bother? I’ll bet Toby isn’t even really my brother.” She sighed. “But he feels like he is.” She glanced down, and Nuri had fallen asleep in her lap. She stroked its back and wept a little, happy for the company.

  Nuri was what she needed for a while -- a silent companion to vent all her troubles to. And as she cried a little over what had befallen her, the aogh sat in her lap, chirping now and again as if on cue.

  Melissa stretched out her knowledge of sussa, playing with the little creature in creative ways. She could invisibly lift Nuri high in the air, or fly it outside the house, warmed by her power. While sweet for the first few weeks, Nuri was still a little boy, and needed to play and fight in the mornings, when Melissa was at her most irritable. Much to her chagrin, she began to use sussa to restrain her little pet, and tired of its antics. Nuri’s creation was a catalyst to read more, to discover more tricks. In time though she grew restless, and felt like she needed a new challenge.

  She also needed true companionship; a person to speak to her, to advise her on the right way to go. She often thought of moving the platform which she could now control down over the surface of Iqui, and sneaking back into Toby’s camp, to speak to one of the soldier-boys she had seen before, but decided against the risk. Instead the lure of creating a human idelfada preyed on her thoughts, presenting a challenge she could not refuse. It was a way she could understand more what a human idelfada was, and make a boy who would love her and distract her from the terminal boredom she endured.

  For days and days she paced, reading the books over and over again -- determined not to make a mistake. Nuri didn’t make it easy, as he was constantly nipping at her feet or pouncing on her legs. But her ability to focus improved, and without noticing she had begun training in earnest, sleeping for less than an hour each night. She also began to eat more, as it improved her mood tremendously and helped to keep her mind focused as she sat and read. She found she put on her pants less and less, and took to walking around in a long robe underneath her mother’s sweater.

  Melissa oscillated between believing she could make it without a companion, and wanting to make him instantly. Finally, just before sunrise one morning she decided the time had come.

  She brought her small levitating platform down to rest on the snow-covered surface, as she knew not how much sussa it would take to create him, and knew if she felt fatigued after creating something as small as an aogh, she might lose consciousness after creating another human being. Melissa stepped out the door, and breathed in deeply the crisp, clean air.

  I hope I’m doing the right thing. I hope he doesn’t turn out wrong.

  She went back in and cleared a space in the study, even pulling the rug off the old hardwood floor. Nuri ran and cavorted around her, and Melissa opted to lock him in the small bathroom, so he wouldn’t be hurt or distract her. Slowly, she then knelt in the center of the room and pressed her palms on the floor. Using her sussa, she extended upwards into a handstand, then levitated a few feet off the ground. She began to slowly rotate, her hands pressed together, pointing downwards, spinning perfectly. That is, until her robe unceremoniously fell down and covered her head.

  “How ridiculous!” she cried, and for a moment her body started to oscillate out of its perfect rotation. “I can’t be distracted, but I won’t look like a fool.” She extended her sussa to push the fabric up, and managed to gather it between her legs.

  “Ocha mada, grunxa oyo,” she chanted, over and over, as her body began to spin. She could feel the power building within her; felt the tendrils of sussa get caught on her spinning body like webs of a spider. It was as if she was divining power from the planet itself, drilling down into its depths to extract what she needed. Before long, she was cocooned in those tendrils, her body spinning at a feverish rate. Her mind raced over all the parameters, all the warnings she read about.

  I must come up with a form now! The time is near when my power will be at its maximum.

  She relaxed her mind, as the books told her, and let the image of a man come. She could see a lean, muscular form, thick, black hair, and golden eyes that twinkled mischievously. Once his face was in the forefront of her thoughts, she instantly stopped her spinning and stretched out her arms.

  “Now appear before me; I command it!”

  As she pulled apart her arms, she rotated lengthwise in the air, so she was once again upright, though still several feet off the floor. The sussa that was gathered around her gravitated upwards into a rapidly spinning sphere that glowed with intense heat and light. Melissa felt her arms were burning, but knew she must press on.

  “Appear, boy; I demand it!”

  The spinning sphere slowly moved out from between her hands, and settled on the floor a few feet in front of her. It continued to spin, but it also stretched upwards into an ovoid. When it was the height of a young man, Melissa gathered her remaining strength and said;

  “I . . . demand . . . it!”

  The sussa coalesced instantly into a humanoid form, and as it did, she collapsed from the strain.

  She knew not how long she was unconscious, but when she woke the room was frigid. I’m glad I set this place down -- I probably would have died if it fell while I was out. Slowly, she got to her feet, and conjured several warming spheres. To her amazement, she actually felt stronger, and it took a visual check to see that she had absently raised her platform high above the cloud
s.

  But her attention was distracted for only a moment, as what she had waited for was now in existence. She walked slowly around a young boy, who stood without clothes. She averted her eyes from his privates, but admired the strength of his shoulders and chest, the proud sculpted brow he wore. He had long, black hair, deep rich sienna skin, and a curious aspect that in one light seemed compassionate and kind, and in another ruthless and determined. Finally, she stopped in front of him, knowing what must come next.

  Now, the kiss. I’ve never kissed a boy before. At least he’s asleep.

  She stood on her tiptoes and tilted his head down. She pressed her lips against his, pushed them open, and gently breathed into his mouth. After a few seconds, she felt his lips move, felt his arms grasp her shoulders.

  “No!”

  She pushed back, finding the boy alive.

  “What is your wish, dearest one?” he asked softly, in a lyrical baritone she found tremendously appealing. “I am here to serve you.”

  “Dearest one? You don’t even know me yet.”

  “And yet, I know you created me.” He gracefully knelt before her and gently held her hands. “I know that I am yours, and will do anything to please you.”

  Suddenly it all felt very ‘adult’ to Melissa. He was still nude after all, and she could tell that he was eager to please. And while she knew she must do the right thing, his broad strong shoulders and shadowed brow were starting to convince her otherwise.

  “First, you need to put some clothes on.” It was in that moment that she cursed herself, as the only clothes around fit her or her mother. She ran into the bedroom and grabbed a thick blanket. “Put this around you.” He did, but she could still see his arousal. “Just . . . sit down,” she said, exasperated. “Let me think for a while.”