The nameless one was disappointed, though he didn’t understand why, when he saw the human pointing at him. What the man said was true, but the nameless one thought it was more than that. Then he realized that what had transpired between them had been meaningless enough to the human that he could simply blame it on the nameless one to try to save himself.
He’d never noticed earlier, when he thought they were alone, that the cave had suddenly become so warm. His heart was filled with shame, knowing that he’d lost his head to passion and had never noticed the signs of his Elders approaching. It was then that he realized the consequences for his transgression would be tremendous, in a way he had never experienced before.
“You will leave our realm, human, and will never be allowed to come back. You betrayed our trust and insulted us by touching one of ours.” All ten of them released themselves from the ceilings and the walls to stand in front of the two criminals. They started humming a tune, one that the nameless one had heard only once before in his entire life, when they’d excommunicated an old one who’d dabbled in the dark magic.
The sounds the Elders made were an eerie cacophony. The walls vibrated in unison. The darker corners in the cave turned even darker. The nameless one and the human fell on their knees as the ground shook. What frightened both of them even more was the way the ten Elders stood perfectly still despite the rumblings and the shaking.
“Nooo…” The human moaned as he saw a portal opening on the ground where he knelt, very similar to the gate that he entered earlier. He whimpered as he tried to grab the nameless one, but the portal slowly swallowed him. Realizing there was no hope in his situation, the human looked at the nameless one and snarled at him, spit dripping from the corners of his lips. The man no longer looked handsome in that moment, the anger and spite taking away his lighthearted, happy and kind appearance. The man roared his anger with all his might, then screamed in fear just before he disappeared.
The nameless one’s heart beat furiously, but this time from sheer terror. When the Elders surrounded him, he shook like the walls and the ground. His shoulders slumped, making his velvety long wings droop as if they had no bones. He bowed his head in dread, his long white hair hiding his face, and his shame. He was surprised that his wings were not aflame, but rather felt cold down to their fine but strong bones. He wanted to move, but he had no power to move, and he realized then that the Elders had taken his strength. His body shook in panic and remorse.
“First it was your mother, and now you go too far,” one of them growled while the rest shrieked and wailed in agreement. “You cause nothing but discordance and show disrespect for our traditions and laws.”
The stronger their emotions got, the hotter their bodies became, which made their wings expand, the blood pulsing in their veins. As they became brighter, the cave became darker, frightening the nameless one, who wanted to wrap his soft satin wings around his body and hide, but could not.
“I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. I tried to follow the rules. I do respect you, but… There is something different in me that I cannot describe. I have different desires and needs, but I mean no harm to anyone. I just wanted my own mate… another male.” He bowed his head as he shook, wanting to make the Elders understand.
“Silence! We did not give you permission to talk. You are disobedient and are always encouraging your brothers and sisters to disobey.” He listened to their screeching and roaring in horror and anguish.
“We cannot have you in our midst. You are a bad influence. For the good of our realm, you cannot remain here. Your disobedience is no longer tolerated. You shall be punished for your deeds.”
He wanted to run away, or at least protect his ears, bleeding from the pain their damning voices inflicted, but he couldn’t even lift his arms.
Suddenly all sound ceased, and the walls and the ground stopped shaking and groaning. One of the Elders slowly stepped forward, holding a simple dull brass bottle. The nameless one was curious despite his fear. It was too small to use for drinking, or for anything that he could think of. He looked at the bottle, then looked at the Elder.
Her wings drooped as if they carried a heavy load. The tearful nameless one watched the rest of the Elders… but there was no sound coming from any of them either, and all dropped their wings in sadness. The nameless one whimpered as the edges of the cave got darker.
“What do I do with this bottle?” he asked, hoping to please them to reduce his punishment. His heart suddenly filled with hope that they would set him a task. He didn’t want to be punished. He wanted acceptance and to have a name. He was different but not evil. He would do what they asked, and be forgiven…
“Nothing. This bottle is your punishment.” The Elder spoke initially with sorrow but by the time she finished her sentence, her voice held no emotion but resolution. He knew she stated a fact that would alter the direction of his young life.
Chapter Seven
“From this day forth, you will remain in the bottle and never emerge of your own will.” All of the Elders spoke in unison, shaking the nameless one to his core. As they spoke, he felt an invisible force slowly squeezing his body. He tried to free himself but he had no power. All he felt was sheer terror and agonizing, constrictive pain. He moaned as he felt his ribs breaking one by one within the ruthlessly constricting force.
“The only time you shall emerge is when you are summoned by the owner of the bottle.” Now their voices had a harmonious tone, almost like a lullaby…but the whole time, the young nameless one felt his hipbones snapping, and his shoulder blades cracking. He could no longer hide his pain, but screamed with all his might. His heart tried hard to pump his life force through his broken body, but it too was crushed.
“Your freedom depends on your master, who can wish for your freedom, but that wish must be one of those three wishes.” In his painful daze, the nameless one thought they mocked him with their golden musical sounds, by pretending to be sad when they had no mercy for him. It was as if they celebrated his punishment…
The final agony came when the nameless one felt his skull being slowly crushed. With each snap and crackle, he felt his brain oozing out, causing him a pain that he could not imagine existed. The nameless one gave a final roar when his eyes popped out of their sockets, and then there was only total silence and darkness.
He didn’t know how much time had passed, and he knew only pain, and that he no longer even had the mouth to express it with. He had no idea where he was, only that he couldn’t move. What was left of his mouth tasted a sticky substance, and he realized it was blood… his blood. He wanted to weep, and he did, from his one remaining eye, but his roar was but a gurgle from his crushed face and torn lungs.
It suddenly dawned on him that he was trapped in that dull brass bottle. He cried bitterly at the knowledge that he would never hear a sound or see a flicker of light, until someone summoned him to make their demands. His torn heart struggled to pump, and the pain slowly ceased, but being a magical creature meant death did not come easy to him. He would later realize that the bottle was no more than an abyss that would hold him, lifeless, until he was summoned.
He didn’t know how long he’d been in the bottle, but he knew he was being summoned, because he woke up with his heart beating and his lungs functioning slowly. He was filled with hope that whoever called him would feel sorry for him and set him free.
Ohh…the pain and the agony of coming out of the bottle was horrendous. He remembered this pain. It was like his first time when he was sent into the bottle. Is this what happens to me every time I am called? Shall I face the same torture?
He was sure his first master heard his agonized screams and wails. By the time he was out of the bottle and was reshaped into his natural body, the nameless one had suffered another bout of pure torture. Once he no longer felt pain and tasted no blood in his mouth, he noticed he was on his hands and knees. He lifted his head, and the first thing he noticed was the bright sunlight, which hurt his eyes.
This was not his realm. He was in another place, but when he saw the old man sitting on a stool, watching him with total fascination, the nameless one knew he was among the humans in their realm. Part of being a slave in a magical bottle meant that he would recite what his master needed to know, so again he lost control of his body as he spoke.
“Greetings, Master, I am to grant you three wishes. Please name your first wish.” He tried to stand up proudly, but the invisible force that had broken his body forced him to bend forward to show his respect to the human.
The old man cackled gleefully as he rubbed his hands. “Slave, I want a big palace on top of a mountain, loaded with money and servants!” The nameless one was forced to bow again, then stood up to clap his hands and open his wings. The pleasure of opening and stretching his wings was nothing less than pure heaven to him. However, his sheer pleasure did not live long, for the invisible power forced him to create a blazing fire in his hands, enlarging it until it pulsed and crackled.
The old man cried in fear and tried to hide, but there was nowhere to hide. The nameless one let go of the fireball, which floated in the air close to his body, and he seized the man in his arms. With no will of his own, his wings beat and sent him soaring, with the man screaming in his arms, and the fireball following right behind.
One minute they were up in the sky, the old man crying and wailing, and the next second, they were on top of a mountain, watching the fireball moving around furiously, building a palace at amazing speed. Once the palace was ready, the nameless one landed in the courtyard of the palace, where servants knelt, waiting for the old man.
The man was trembling so much that he fell flat on the tiled ground in shock. He scratched his head and looked around slowly. Once he realized this was his palace, the old man stood up shouting in joy.
He suddenly turned to demand his second wish, but the force inside the nameless one spoke through him.
“No, Master. You made your three wishes. A palace on top of a mountain, loaded with money, and servants to attend your needs.” Then he felt the forces that had accursed him slowly crushing him again, pushing him bit by bit back into the bottle. Ohh, he would never get used to the pain and the suffering.
Once he was back in the bottle, he realized it was not going to be easy to get his wish to be set free, and with that last thought, his heart and lungs ceased to work. He fell asleep again in a solution of tears and blood.
Chapter Eight
The nameless one thought he would eventually gain his freedom, because he was kind and meant no harm to anyone… surely someone would take pity on him! However, each time he was summoned, he watched his masters go blind with greed, envy and anger, so there was no mercy for him.
Years turned to centuries, until one day his heart started beating again. The nameless one whimpered and shed a single tear as he prepared himself to come out of the bottle, to feel the same torture he’d felt countless times.
It had been so long since his last summoning, he’d forgotten how painful it was to move in and out of the bottle, his crushed bones grinding and flesh tearing. Oh, the agony was unbearable, so the nameless one couldn’t help but scream.
When he was eventually out of the bottle, his body started repairing itself in equally painful steps. He was on his knees and hands again. He took a deep breath before he spoke, as forced to by the magic of the bottle.
“Greetings, Master. I am to grant you three wishes. Please name your first wish.” This time he didn’t try to stand up, as he knew the invisible force would make sure he bent forward to show his respect to the human.
There was no response but silence. Curiosity won, and he lifted his head to look at his new master. What he saw surprised him. An old traveler watched him with tears and sorrow in his eyes. The man looked devastated at what he witnessed, but the nameless one was no longer the fool, thinking this must be another ploy from another master because they didn’t trust him. He knew no one took pity on him.
The man wore an old long robe. The nameless one could see that the man’s loose pants were in no better condition, judging by the frayed edges. The long scarf he wrapped around his cap was covered in dust. The only thing that looked newish were his camel hide boots. The old man’s grey beard reached to his chest and even his eyebrows were long, almost covering his deep green eyes that lacked sparkle and any hope. The nameless one thought he looked somehow familiar, but he didn’t dwell on it, and dropped his gaze again.
“You have three wishes to make, master,” he spoke with a dead voice, refusing to look at the human. All he wanted was to hear the man’s three wishes, so he could go back to the abyss of nothingness. He waited to hear the man’s desires, but nothing came forth, which left him confused. He couldn’t help but lift his head up to look at the man again.
The old man silently watched him with sad eyes, and pulled a long sheet out of his bag. “I have no wishes yet. Just tuck your wings and put this sheet around your body, so you are protected against the sun, and no one can see your true form.”
He was baffled at what the man handed to him. All he could do was hold the cotton material and look at it as if it would reveal something. When he looked up, the man smiled at him and pointed with his head toward the material.
“Come on. Cover yourself.” So he tucked his wings at his back and wrapped the sheet over his shoulders. He couldn’t help but feel startled when the man placed a soft cap over his head and then gently wrapped a scarf around it.
“This will protect your head, and you look like a human now,” he spoke softly as he tucked the end of the scarf inside the wrap.
The nameless one didn’t know what to say, and let the man dress him and help him to sit on the wagon beside him. He was still in shock that the man had told him he had no wishes to ask yet.
The traveler was not talkative, and he seemed to know where he was heading. The nameless one was too unsure of everything to ask him what was going on, so he sat quietly, nibbling berries that his companion handed him every so often.
They traveled all through the day, with the nameless one sleeping at the back, at times hidden under a cover. But the nights were glorious, because the old man let him fly until dawn. The magic of the bottle did not force him to do anything, because it was suspended, waiting for the new master to make his wishes. The nameless one was still the slave to the bottle, so he could never fly away too far, the magic attached to his body like a parasite. But he was grateful for this reprieve, so he did not complain.
One day, the traveler stopped by a great mountain where the snow rested at the tip like a blanket. The wind was strong, for the nameless one could see how the clouds shifted over the tip of the mountain. It was as if a higher power wanted to hide the mountain from mortal eyes, because he had other plans for it. There was a small forest at the bottom of the mountain, close to a cluster of houses.
“We won’t be going near that town. We have no need to,” the man said in his gravelly tone as he looked ahead. The nameless one looked at him, but asked no questions, because he’d learnt a long time ago not to speak. But it was so odd that the man had no wish to make. The nameless one supposed he would have at least wished to come to this place through magic, or better yet, ask for a new covered wagon with a young horse, instead of the old nag that moved so slowly.
He was grateful that the man gave only fruit and nuts to the nameless one. It had been so long since he’d tasted the juicy grape filling his mouth with its sweet nectar, or the delicious apple, smelling so divine. He couldn’t help but cry sometimes as he ate the fruit. There was a time when these gifts from the higher power had been given to his people in abundance.
No matter how sorrowful or pained he may have looked, the traveler never spoke to him. All his actions were done from kindness and compassion, making the nameless one wonder about him. He was an old man wearing tattered clothes, carrying a bagful of goods to swap with other travelers or villagers.
However, he never showed the nameless one�
�s bottle to anyone. His beard was so long that the nameless one wondered how the man ate without making a mess. He then pondered how the man saw his surroundings, considering that his wrinkled eyelids drooped over his green eyes. He still thought the man was somehow familiar, but he again didn’t dwell on that.
As it was getting dark, the traveler lit a fire and put a small kettle over it to make tea. The nameless one looked around, confused at what the man was going to do next. He did not wish to fly, so he tentatively walked towards the fire, fearing he might be kicked. Yes, he still didn’t trust the traveler, just in case…but the old man did not kick him; in fact, he offered the nameless one a cup of black tea.
The nameless one sat down as he shifted his body and tucked his wings carefully. He still preferred to lie down, or stand up or hang upside down, preferably in a slightly dark space, but he was getting used to this open space after spending centuries in the bottle.
Once he settled in front of the fire, he was startled as the old traveler started speaking to him at length for the first time since they met.
“That great mountain is a dormant volcano, so people avoid traveling there. The legend says that the Supreme Being was so disillusioned with the humans’ wicked actions, that one day he decided to wipe them out with a great flood, but chose one man to build an ark, and collect a male and a female of every species to ride out the flood…. Legend says that the ark is resting on the top of that mountain, but humankind will never find out the truth, for some things are not meant to be known, but only felt in the gut. What we see is not always the truth, is it, now?”
As the nameless one listened to the clear and soothing voice of the traveler, he felt the tension slowly leaving his body. All the nameless one heard beside that voice was the crackling of the burning wood and the smell of charcoal. He sighed and turned his head to look at the mountain, a giant dark mass among the twinkling stars.
“Rest now. Tomorrow, we are climbing up the mountain.” The old man suddenly sounded like a young man, bursting with energy. The nameless one turned back to look at him. It would have been hard for a human to see the old man’s face, but it was not for the nameless one. For a split second, he felt confusion, then fear. The old man’s face was skeletal, with empty eye sockets.
The Nameless One Page 3
