Rora lifted her head, and saw that Arasha was pointing back the way they'd come. She didn't even need to follow Arasha's finger to find what she was pointing at.
"That's a boat," Rora breathed. "And it's close," Arasha said. "So either they'll help us, or they'll kill us faster than we would die of dehydration. Either way sounds like a win, no?" "Not exactly," Rora said. "I'd rather not die." "Well, yes, I don't exactly want to die, either, But if I have to, I'd rather it be quick, you know." Rora pushed herself up to standing. "They're close," she said. "I didn’t see them." She'd been focused on the island, and in the fog earlier, she wouldn't have seen them anyway. "They'll probably be here within the hour," Arasha said knowledgeably. "Might as well drink up while we wait." She jerked a thumb at their remaining store of fresh water pods. Rora sighed. "I suppose," she said. "Though they might just leave us here. And they might not come this far." "They're coming right at us," Arasha pointed out. "They can't have missed us. They'll be here." Rora couldn't argue with that, so she went with Arasha to the pods, and they each selected one. They drank as they watched the boat come closer, and Rora wondered exactly what to expect. She wouldn't drink sea water. It made no sense, and she couldn't help the sudden rebellion against the voice. It had done too much damage now, and she was tired of it. Perhaps if she stopped listening, things could return to something resembling normal. It was probably a vain hope, but as she drank down the last of her water, she found that it helped to have something to hope for, even if it was probably pointless. It felt oddly humorous, to be sitting there with Arasha, drinking as they awaited their fate. It reminded Rora of the stories she'd used to read as a child. She hadn't wanted this adventure, but she supposed that if she'd had to have one, she hadn't handled it as badly as she could have. She hadn't done badly. Not really. Maybe she could one day tell the story as if she was a heroine. As if the fear and hurt were long gone, almost forgotten, in the intriguing nature of the rest of the tale. This comforted her more than the hope that things would go back to normal. And she realized with a slight sinking of her stomach that this was because she didn't think things could go back to normal. They were too messed up, too strange and different. There would be a new normal at the end of this, if she survived it. She hoped it would be worth having. The boat approached within the hour, as Arasha had predicted. It was a larger boat than their own, though not by much. It was fully crewed, however; they could see the men and women working the boat. They didn't attempt to make proper contact with Rora and Arasha until they were close enough to have a conversation without yelling. The sides of the boat were close enough that if Rora climbed up onto the railing of their own, she could step from one to the other. "Rora and Arasha?" called a man that stood so confidently that Rora assumed he was the captain. "Who's asking?" Arasha asked, lifting her water pod in a mockery of a toast. "Captain Orel," the man replied. "Captain of this ship, and admiral of the naval peacekeeper fleet." Ship seemed too great a term for the boat he was standing on, but Rora decided not to point that out. Arasha, however, had no such compunction. "You call that a ship?" she said. "And isn't the peacekeeper fleet only three boats?" The captain flushed. "I'm here to arrest you for crimes against the city," he said. "I'm to bring you back for judgment. I'd suggest you don't struggle - there's nowhere to run, and we’re authorized by the high priest himself to use deadly force if necessary." "I'm not scared of a skinny wannabe," Arasha said, rising to her feet with a flourish of the pod she still held in one hand. "You couldn't take me in a fight if I had both hands tied behind my back." "Arasha," Rora warned. "Don't provoke them." "If I'm to be taken prisoner, they're going to know exactly what I think of them while they lock me in whatever poor excuse for a brig they've got in their little dishpan." Arasha said. "Are you going to resist?" the captain asked. His face was red now, and Rora could see that he was clenching his hands into fists. "No," Rora said at once.
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"You can't be serious," Rora said out loud. "You brought me all the way out here to drink sea water? That's insane!"
The voice didn't answer her, but she thought she could feel it's presence lurking in the back of her mind. "The silent treatment?" Rora said. "Really?" Everything she'd gone through, all the difficulty and pain, seemed to bubble up at once. She'd listened to this voice, doing what it told her even when she questioned whether it was wise. It had saved her life once, after all. But this? This was one order too far. She'd lost Oksay and Thead, and she'd lost her brother, and father, and nieces - her sister-in-law had drugged her and turned her in. Someone had dressed all in black and tried to kill her, twice. And now this mysterious voice had taken her all the way out to the Shuushan Trench to tell her to drink seawater? That would only make her thirstier. It was insanity. "What do you want from me?" she demanded. "I don't understand!" This final shout woke Arasha, who jerked in surprise, and blinked blearily up at Rora. "What's happening?" Arasha asked, her words slurring with sleep. "We're here," Rora said, waving. "And now I'm supposed to drink sea water." Arasha squinted at her. "You're not joking." "No, I'm not," Rora said, biting off her words. "I don't understand what this is all for. I've tried to do the right thing, and all that's happened is I've lost everything I wanted. I liked my life! And now I'm out in the middle of nowhere with the only person who has the guts to stick with me, but we're probably going to die out here, and I'm not drinking sea water!" Arasha blinked up at her. "That seems like a weird place to draw the line," she said tentatively. She was watching Rora with a caution that Rora had never seen in her before. Of course, Arasha had never seen Rora angry. Had Rora ever been angry? She couldn't remember a time she'd been this furious. Maybe she hadn't been. "It's weird to draw the line at something I know could kill us faster?" Rora asked. "Rora, this isn't normal for you. Are you all right?" "No, I'm not all right!" Rora exclaimed. "You're stuck out here with me, and we're both going to die, and it's all my fault. I should have left you at the city. I should have gotten food, or water, instead of just running out here like an idiot-" "Rora, shut up," Arasha said firmly. "If we're going to die anyway, then drink the stupid water. You've come this far, haven't you?" Rora scowled at Arasha. She had a point - but she was still furious. There had precious few answers to her questions, and she was getting sick and tired of it. If anything, her impending death meant that she would no longer need them. Rora flopped onto the deck, and was surprised to find her cheeks wet with tears. She had to stop crying - she couldn't afford to waste fluids on tears. But she couldn't stop. She covered her face with her hands. Why had everything gone so horribly wrong? Only a few weeks ago everything had been perfect. And then that dream, and the voice... She heard Arasha approach, and settle down on the deck beside her. She ignored her, until Arasha draped her arm around her shoulders. "It's been really hard, hasn't it?" Arasha asked gently. "You've managed pretty incredibly so far, considering all the garbage that's been going on. I probably would have lost my mind a long time ago." "I can't afford to be crying," Rora said, sniffling. "Maybe you can't afford not to be crying," Arasha offered. "That's ridiculous," Rora said. "I should be conserving my fluids-" "We're probably going to die out here," Arasha said bluntly. "You may as well not be emotionally miserable the entire time." "That makes no sense," Rora replied. "How can me crying now make me feel less upset about the fact that we're going to die?" "I don't know," Arasha said, shrugging. Rora almost laughed. "You're as ridiculous as this whole situation," she said. "That's me," Arasha said cheerfully. "How can you be so relaxed about this?" Rora asked. "Well, it might be because of that," Arasha said. Rora turned away from the sky, facing the cabins on the boat, and closed her eyes. She shouldn't be tired; she'd been unconscious for days. But the lack of food made sleep attractive, and it came upon her anyway.
She didn't dream this time. No visions colored the inside of her eyelids, plaguing her with revelations she wasn't sure were true. But sometime near dawn, before the sun had turned the pitch black to gray, a splashing sound awakened her. Just a fish, she told herself groggily, and let sleep claim her again. She didn't hear the second splash, or the third, and she had fallen so deeply asleep that when the boat came to a grinding halt she didn't hear that, either. Rora awoke strangely chilled, and curled tightly in on herself for a moment before she realized that she wouldn't be able to sleep again. The sky had lightened into gray, and at first she thought it was early morning. But then she saw the fog, great washes of it that had rolled in overnight. The damp air was still, and it took her a moment to realize why this was significant. She threw herself to her feet, and against the railing of the boat. The water was lapping gently against the hull, not with the energy that indicated movement. The boat had stopped, and was now dead in the water. A chill, stiff breeze kicked up, and blew away a tendril of fog, and Rora froze. The boat had run aground. There was an outcropping of yellowish stone, and the boat had come to a stop there. The color of the stone looked familiar. She had seen it somewhere before, but couldn't recall where. There was a splashing sound, and she turned her attention back to the water. She found herself staring into the cold, reptilian eyes of a fish large enough to swallow her whole. She jerked backward, a chill running up her spine. The fish angled itself to watch her, and its jaw opened to reveal sharp teeth. A predator. It nudged the boat gently with the gleaming column of its back, but when the boat remained stuck fast, it turned and swam away with a flick of its tail. Rora's relief at its disappearance was brief. It wasn't the only creature interested in their arrival. The outcropping of stone dropped off, sheer, into the water, leaving it deep and dark. Allowing for large fish to come closer and inspect them. The fish she’d seen was only the first arrival; more came after, some smaller, some larger. Eels long enough to wrap themselves around her twice and squeeze her to death, arrow-like fish with disturbing intelligence in their eyes and teeth that were sharp enough to rip her flesh from her bones. The breeze picked up again, and as the sun rose higher, the fog blew away. The water beneath the boat teemed with predatory fish, and she found it hard to look away from the mesmerizing swirl of silver scales as they took turns inspecting the boat. But as the fog burned away in the sun, she saw that the outcropping of stone was more than just an outcropping; it was stone jutting out from an island. And it wasn't any ordinary island. It was small, still, perhaps the size of a house. Made entirely of the sandy-colored stone that she remembered but could not yet place, but with one defining feature: it had a split running down the center, a place where the water ran deep, filled with the dark shapes of enormous fish. The sea levels were dropping, Rora realized. Because this was the Shuushan Trench. There was no other explanation. Someone, or something, had wanted them here. Rora didn't share Arasha's conviction that it was the goddess, but some force had wanted them here and made it possible. The current, the water pods - what other explanation was there? "We're here," Rora said softly. "Now what?" Drink. The voice was soft as a sigh inside Rora's head. There was a strange note of relief there, as if some task was done. "Drink what?" Rora asked. Water. Rora rolled her eyes, and picked up one of the fresh water pods from the day before. She broke off the stem, and took a swig. "You brought me out here to do that?" she asked, annoyed. "I could have done that at home." Drink, the voice repeated. Now it also sounded annoyed. But still faint, as if speaking was difficult. "I just did," Rora said, lowering her voice to a hiss so as not to wake Arasha. Drink. Rora froze. "You can’t mean..." She turned and looked out at the ocean. "I'm not drinking saltwater - that's insane." The silence of the voice seemed ominous. Rora drifted into sleep, in spite of her thirst. When she awakened, it was to the sky turning gold and pink with sunset. She gave herself a shake, and tried to ignore the burning of thirst in the back of her throat as she forced herself to stand. The wind hadn't lessened, but the air had cooled with the falling of the sun.
She staggered to the side of the boat, and looked toward the horizon, shading her eyes with one hand. She inhaled sharply. There was something there. Something on the horizon, where there should be nothing but water and sky. She was reminded forcibly of how they had found the island where Oksay had awakened Traggen. It was still too far away to make out any details - it was simply a dark splotch, silhouetted against the sky. Perhaps, she thought, there was a destination for them after all. She turned her gaze back at the water beneath the boat, and saw something green bobbing in the water, caught in the current and flowing alongside. She blinked, and stared at it. Then she blinked again before racing away from the side in search of an oar, a pole - something. When she found the oars she and Arasha had attempted to use before, she dashed back to the side, afraid it would be gone. She saw with relief that it was still there. She dipped the oar she'd collected into the water, and when she raised it again, a mass of plant life dangled from the end. She hoisted it carefully onto the deck, and fell to her knees before it. Fresh water pods. She selected a pod with trembling fingers, and snapped the stem loose. A drop of fresh water spilled from the opening, and she raised it to her lips, not wanting to waste even that much. The touch of fresh water against her lips seemed to awaken the thirst further, and she had to force herself not to down the entire pod at once. She rose from where she was sitting, and approached Arasha. Her friend was still breathing shallowly, and her skin was still red, but Rora thought that maybe the color had faded somewhat, closer to her natural skin tone. Rora knelt beside her friend. "Arasha," she croaked. She cleared her throat, and tried again. "Arasha, water." She shook Arasha's shoulders, and her friend's eyes blinked open. Rora took the fresh water pod, and held it to Arasha's lips. "You need to drink," Rora said. "Please." Arasha grimaced, but did as she was told. Rora had stopped herself from sucking down the entire pod, but she made no attempt to keep Arasha from doing the same. Arasha drained the pod, and then sat up. "You’re awake," Arasha said. She sounded as bad as Rora had, her voice a croak. "And so are you," Rora said, limp with relief. "There were some fresh water pods." She waved. "More?" Arashs asked with a frown. "What do you mean, more?" Rora asked. "I found some too, two days ago." Two days ago. "Arasha," Rora said slowly. "How long was I unconscious?" "Three days," Arasha said. "I tried to wake you up, but..." she shrugged. "I was in some sort of...vision," Rora said. "I saw...a lot of things." She told Arasha about the visions she'd seen, and Arasha listened with rapt attention; the water, and the cooling air as night fell, had revived her. "-and I'm so glad that you're all right," Rora finished. "So am I," Arasha replied. "The goddess has been looking out for us," she added. "How often do you hear about fresh water pods floating to the surface and getting caught on a boat? Never, but it happened twice in four days. And then there's this current - it's not normal." Rora wasn't sure she agreed with the idea that the goddess was looking out for them; they couldn't count on finding more water pods. They’d gotten lucky. But she didn't object; better to let Arasha think that if it brought her comfort. "It's probably best if we sleep as much as possible," Rora said. "The more we sleep, the less water we drink." "And the less hungry we feel," Arasha said, pressing a hand to her stomach. They curled up on the deck, and watched as the stars came out overhead. "Do you really think this is what we're supposed to be doing?" Rora asked quietly. "Of course," Arasha replied sleepily. "Besides, what good adventure never has any setbacks or danger?" "I didn't want an adventure," Rora murmured. But Arasha had fallen asleep, in spite of how long she'd been unconscious that day already. Rora sighed, and looked up at the sky, one hand tucked behind her head. How were they going to get out of this? Was it even possible? What if they arrived at the Trench, and there was nothing there? She could have been seeing things, when she saw that blotch on the horizon. She wouldn't be the first to have that problem out on the open sea. Rora's eyes snapped open.
For a moment she was disoriented by the darkness; she'd been flying only a moment ago. Hadn't she? She blinked, and realized that she was staring up at the ceiling - the ceiling of a cabin. Sunlight shone across it - sunlight too bright to be from early morning. Why hadn't she wakened sooner? Where was Arasha? She stumbled to her feet, and was hit with a wave of lightheadedness that almost sent her back to the floor. She paused, gritting her teeth, and waited for it to pass. When it did, she realized a moment of lightheadedness was the least of her problems. Her tongue felt thick and dry, and her mouth was sticky. She needed water. Her stomach was a hollow, so empty and weak it didn't even have the strength to growl. Worse, her legs trembled beneath her. She had eaten only the night before, hadn’t she? Why was she so weak? Her skin was damp with sweat - the heat of the day was pounding down on the boat, and the air in the cabin was still and close. She turned slowly on the spot, and found that she wasn't alone in the cabin. Arasha lay on a cot, one arm flung over her head. Her eyes were closed, and Rora frowned. Arasha wasn't sweating at all. Her face was red, and her lips were so dry they'd started to crack. Oh no. Rora left the cabin, flinging open the door, and stepping onto the deck. She could feel the heat of the wood through her sandals, but a salty breeze blew her hair from her face, refreshing her slightly. She needed to get Arasha out of that room - it was too warm. She went back in, the cabin more suffocating by virtue of comparison. She tried to wake Arasha, but all her friend did was moan, and wave weakly at her. So, gritting her teeth once more, Rora rolled Arasha onto the floor, and out of the cabin. She had some difficulties maneuvering Arasha's arms and legs through the door, but managed it at last. Then she sank down next to Arasha, breathing hard. Arasha wasn't the only one that needed water. Rora looked down at her hands, and found them trembling. She clenched them into fists. She shouldn't have obeyed the voice. She’d thought she had no choice, but there was always a choice, wasn't there? She could have stayed at the city. She didn't know what she would have done, but there had to have been a better way than coming out here. She looked at Arasha, whose breathing was so shallow that for one heart-stopping moment Rora wasn't sure she was breathing at all. They should have gotten food, water - something. Anything. It was foolish. Stupid. By far the stupidest thing she'd ever done. The need for survival had her on her feet after a few minutes of rest. She needed to know where they were if she was going to try and get them back. And that was the only option that might keep them alive. They couldn't stay out where they were, not without some kind of assistance. But when she got to the side of the boat, and looked out, she realized that the wind wasn't really wind at all. They were moving. And when she looked down into the sea below, she saw a brief flicker of silver that was there and then gone, twisting sinuously out of sight. Rora rested her hands on the side, and looked in the direction they were going. She could see nothing there but the horizon, a line where water met sky. She turned back to Arasha, who had still not awakened. She needed to turn them around, to get them back to the city. If her judgment was accurate - and she wasn't entirely sure it was - the city was behind them. The angle of the sun was reliable, but if they'd turned at all while she was gripped by visions, they could miss the city by miles. She looked at the sailing apparatus, and wished she'd learned how to sail. She could remember some of the things that Arasha and Thead had done, but not all of them. And she couldn't remember which order they'd been done in. But still, she tried. All she succeeded in doing was spinning them wildly as the current of the ocean carried them inexorably forward. Every attempt she made to change course was met with the fierce resistance of the sea. Finally, exhausted and thirstier than she had ever been in her life, Rora collapsed beside Arasha. She pulled her knees to her chest, and resisted the urge to cry. She couldn't afford that - she needed to keep her fluids inside. She had nothing to replace them with. They were going to die. And it was all her fault. When this vision faded into nothing, Rora couldn't help but feel sorry for Shuusha. Inside her head, she could see the anguish. The pain...it seemed familiar, so similar to what she had gone through with the temple, and her family. Not a betrayal, exactly, like what Rora had experienced, but an impending final good bye that never should have come.
The urge to hug the goddess felt off-kilter, but she couldn't help it. I'm sorry, she thought quietly. As if her words had been heard, she was dropped suddenly into another vision. "I've heard of comas," Shuusha said fiercely. "If we put you into one-" "No," Traggen cut her off. "But-" "No," Traggen repeated. They were in a small, secondary bedroom; Rora had never seen it before, but the familiarity of her host told her where it was. It was in the tropical palace. The room was filled with priceless pottery, its stone walls lined with tapestries. It wasn't the place that Shuusha normally slept - this small room was where Traggen lived, unable to climb the stairs to their bedchamber. "I don't understand," Shuusha said. Her tone was even, but from inside her head, Rora could feel the seething of her frustration and anger. She had found an answer - something that could keep him alive until she knew what the problem was. Why wasn't he agreeing to her plan? "I can't just abandon my people," Traggen said. "You wouldn't be abandoning them," Shuusha objected. "You would be protecting your health so you could be there for them for centuries to come. If you die would that not be the ultimate abandonment?" He turned away from her, but she could tell by the set of his shoulders and the tilt of his head that he was listening. "Have I not ruled at your side all these years? Do you not trust me to rule in your stead while you recover?" This was the wrong thing to say. "I will not do this," he said shortly. "And will not speak of it with you again." Traggen rarely grew angry. He was far more even-headed than Shuusha was, but in that moment, as she left the bedroom, she could tell. He was furious. And she didn't know why. She spun on her heel, and stormed from the room. She thought she had never been so angry in her life. Their argument had lasted nearly an hour - she had shouted, and pleaded, and wept. Yet still, he was determined. He would not put himself into a coma. Why had he called her to him, then? Just so they could fight? It was ridiculous. He died later that night. The constant presence of another divine being faded more slowly than he had, as if lingering in the world, but eventually that, too, was gone. * 28 years ago Shuusha hovered, insubstantial, somewhere in the atmosphere. She could see the surface of the ocean far below, and sense the life of every creature within it. But more, she could feel the earth. Its vitality had returned by degrees, and was now only a few decades from being strong enough that she could withdraw her power. If Traggen could see it, could see what she’d done, he would be proud. If she’d had eyes, they would have pricked with tears. She could have taken another body at any time; chosen to be reincarnated into the small city that still floated below. But never again would she share those lives with the god of the earth, and that kept her in her divine form. Humanity made the sorrow sharper, and it hurt too much already. She no longer wished for her own death, but that was all. Now that the earth was healed, what would she do? She tried not to think about the possibility, now lost: that if Traggen had gone into a coma, he could now be safely awakened. Returned to her - alive. She focused instead on what she was going to do now. She had pondered this question before many times. As she shepherded the earth back to health, she’d wondered what she would do when this last, greatest goal was accomplished. No answer had ever come to her. But one day, as she drifted and thought through her options, something changed. It was a small change, so tiny that she almost didn’t notice it. She wouldn’t have noticed it, had it not been for the preternatural calm that lay upon the world. A flicker of power that did not belong to her. She turned her attention to the city. Her Blessings still came upon those who lived there, the distant descendants of her last human life. But there had been no infusion of divine blood in centuries – there had been no Blessing of enough power to draw her attention like this for several hundred years. So what was it? She swooped closer, whipping through the city streets as a bruising wind. She tracked the flicker of power to a large house, then, closer, to a single, opulent room. She slipped inside, and felt around herself. A woman, she thought. A woman who had just given birth, and held her newborn child in her arms, still covered in afterbirth. A boy child, she knew. He had his tiny red face screwed up in a howl, and the sight of it softened her heart alarmingly. Was this where the power had come from? She went closer, peering down at the child, and again felt the faint pulse of power. She whirled across the room. Had she a physical body, her heart would have pounded, and she would have clapped a hand over her mouth. She knew that power. And she’d been right. It wasn’t hers. Unexpectedly, the scent of damp earth and fresh water filled her nostrils, a breath of fresh air that she’d never dared to hope she would encounter again. A phantom breeze that no human could ever scent. Traggen was alive. His power still slept, but it was strong enough to produce a suitable vessel. He had sent himself into hibernation, as she’d suggested so long ago. Why he hadn’t told her of this, so she could guard him, she didn’t know. But that didn’t matter. He was alive. He was alive, and would take a human body when this small, screaming baby was grown. She swept closer to the child again, and pressed a ghostly kiss to his forehead. And then she left the house behind. She had work to do. If Traggen was taking a body, then so would she. It would be years still, before they would meet again. Before the child she’d seen had grown and was ready. Ready to be led to Traggen’s most sacred place to wake the god of the earth. Shuusha would need a body of her own. The longing to hold him, to feel his lips against hers, hit so strongly that she staggered in her search. She still missed him. So much that it hurt. * The night Oksay was born, a howling wind tore through the city, ripping off shutters and tearing garments from clotheslines. The goddess of the sea was on the prowl. It took her three years for the human body she’d refused to die of old age. All of her reincarnations since Traggen’s death had lived as humans, never knowing what they were missing - that they should have been queens. She was there when the woman died, but left immediately, and waited. Another two years passed before she felt the tiny spark of her own life growing in a woman’s belly. She tracked the woman down, learned her name, and the name of her husband – and her older child. And then Shuusha, goddess of the sea, retreated. She had only to wait, but her time would come. Was within her grasp. And always the words repeated in her mind, turning to a song that she sang to herself, over and over, and whispered to the child that was the fragment of herself, her soul. He’s alive. He’s alive. She ran through the fields, her feet flying over the churned soil. She had to find him. Rora didn't know why this was so important, but the body she was now sharing with Shuusha did. Perhaps more importantly, they could both feel the pulse of power that told them Traggen was near, and they were getting closer.
She vaulted a fence, and a field spread out before her. There, on the far side, were two figures. One was bent double, holding his belly, supported on one side by the second. Fear. It was an odd experience, Rora thought. To be inside someone else's head, even if it was just a dream. To be watching, and with no influence over the outcome. At least, she thought, it was an improvement to have retained a sense of herself. The earlier dreams had been different, as if it was her, and not someone else reliving an ancient memory. Shuusha sprinted across the field, and fell to her knees beside Traggen. She scanned his face briefly; he was sweating - hardly a strange occurrence - but there was an odd, glazed look in his eyes. Piggybacking in her mind, Rora took in the sight of the god of the earth. He wasn't tall, not like Oksay. But he was solidly built, with cords of muscles beneath his skin. His skin was dark, tanned even darker from hours in the sun, and there were lines of silver in his black curls. Not a young man, then. He squinted up at the goddess, and she saw deep laugh lines carved into his face - he had spent much of his life smiling. She was surprised to find that she thought she would like him, if they’d ever met. "Are you all right?" Shuusha demanded, drawing Rora's attention. "What happened?" "Just a pain," he said, waving her off. He made to sit on his own, but winced. "Just a pain?" she repeated. She looked to the other man, who flinched under her gaze. "What happened?" If Traggen wouldn't offer her details, she would get them from his friends. "I'm not sure, my lady. He was fine all day, but then, just now, he grabbed at his stomach. I don't know what happened." Shuusha turned away from him, dismissing him entirely, and turned back to Traggen. "I'm fine," he said, forcing a smile. "It's not so bad now." He frowned. "It hasn't stopped, not entirely. But I don't think it's serious." "You don't think it's serious, or you don't know?" Shuusha asked. "I've died a thousand times," he said, sitting up. "This isn't like any of those times. And even if it was, and I die in the next few hours, I'd just come find you again in another twenty years." He grinned up at her, and her heart squeezed. And that was when Rora knew, and the knowing jerked her roughly back into the darkness of in-between. Shuusha had been in love with Traggen. Not just a fling, or a short-term love, either – a mature love, that had grown and changed over a very long time. And he had clearly loved her in return. She could see on his face that he was trying to hide his worry, so that Shuusha wouldn’t fret over what had happened. The Traggenese and the Shuushan had been in conflict for as long as she'd been alive. Longer, in fact - there was no record of them ever working together. Not that survived. A thought that she didn't think belonged to her snapped through her head like a shooting star: someone had destroyed the evidence. But who? And why? These questions swirled, and then faded into the enormity of what she'd discovered. Or thought she'd discovered. She reminded herself that just because she saw it didn't make it real. Maybe she was delirious. Maybe her body was deathly ill, and she was in this place because she was feverish. Or something. But her mind skittered away from that possibility. She didn't want to think about her body, possibly dying where she had left it. With no food, or water, and on the way to the Shuushan Trench. Instead, she thought about this new revelation. Shuusha and Traggen had been together, a committed couple, for what had to have been a long time. Several years, at least. The implications of this intrigued her, and she wondered how the Shuushan and the Traggenese could have gotten it so wrong. But this brought up other questions. What had hurt Traggen in the first place? He was a god. What could cause him pain like that? Did it have something to do with why Traggen had taken Oksay? Thead had recognized Traggen's call, but it had come from Oksay. Had Traggen crushed Oksay inside his head and taken over? And if so, why? He'd had his own body in this vision. Why did he need to take another? Traggen and Shuusha had, at least for a time, loved each other. Long enough to produce at least one child. A daughter that had a combination of earth and sea power nestled within her like a seed. Would their children be immortal? Demigods? Rora didn't know. For every question these visions answered, they brought ten more to light.
The next vision hit without warning. Unlike the others, the first thing she noticed was pain. She saw nothing for a long moment, and the vision appeared slowly. But the pain, that hit hard, like running face-first into a wall. It was a clawing sensation in her belly, an ache in her heart. It wasn't physical, she knew at once. At least, not all of it. Her eyes were swollen, her sinuses clogged, and her throat sore. From crying, she realized. The world materialized around her, and she found herself floating on her back in a massive pool. The water was steaming, sending curls up toward a ceiling of stone. The ceiling had been set with a mosaic in tiles of blue and green, their gloss fogged with the steam. Tears, almost as hot as the water in which she floated, dripped down her temples into the bath. She was alone in the room; she had sent them all away. The echoing space held nothing but for the sound of water gently lapping at the tiled edges of the pool, and her own sniffling sobs. He was dying. He was still so young - his hair had only just started to gray. But she could sense it. His power was tainted, and felt different than it ever had before. She had never dealt with it before, the idea that a divine being could die. But if his power was weak enough, he would simply...fade. Into nothing. And he was growing weaker. It was a slow march, but inexorable. He was getting worse with every lifetime. She thought she knew what was causing his illness. The factories on the mainland. But she had destroyed the worst offenders, and kept her violence from him. And there had been no change. No improvement. It must either be something else, or she was simply too late. She curled her legs to her chest, and rolled forward so that she could launch herself into the water. She settled on the bottom of the pool, the heat of the water turning her pale skin red. It was soothing, to be surrounded by water. It was also soothing to have no living creatures in it other than herself. She'd never thought she would feel that way, but she had never wept so long and hard for the death of another creature, either. She'd been married before, to human men. Their deaths always hurt. The deaths of their mortal children hurt, too. She remembered them all, every name and face. But this...this was different. He was supposed to be immortal. He was supposed to stay with her for always. That had been their promise, on that long-ago day when they had married. Their power should have kept them together for eternity. But he was dying, and she couldn't save him. She'd tried - she'd drowned one of the factories in a tsunami, and then intercepted every bit of news that came to Traggen about it. He didn't approve of her violent tendencies. She'd dropped another factory off the cliff where it had been built, and a third she had simply hunted down the owners and terrified them into early retirement. She didn't know what else could possibly be doing this to him. She had visited her sacred halls, and searched every memory she had stored there, but found nothing. Nothing to help, nothing to tell her what was happening to her husband. She had suspected it was something the humans were doing. But the destruction of the factories had done nothing. No relief from his pain, no improvement whatsoever. She wasn't entirely convinced that it wasn't the factories anyway; there were so many of them. She knew she would try something else eventually. She would keep looking for the answer. There had to be one, after all. But for now, she would soak in the hot water, and allow herself to fear. She was a queen, a goddess. There should be nothing she feared. And there would be nothing she feared when she left the bathing room. But here, in the privacy of the pool, sitting, cross-legged, on the bottom, she could allow herself to tremble, and weep, and wonder how she would survive the world without him if he died. A moment later, her thoughts were no longer her own. She was again in the sky, surrounded on all sides by dark clouds that flickered with lightning.
She was aware, now, of a lurking presence. Another divine being - another god. She knew from her brief visit to the village that this being's iconography included a tree. She also knew, from her visits to other villages since, that many of them worshiped this other being. Her attention had been drawn, and now she could feel it. There was another power in this world. It was her curiosity that led her to him... The vision, and the feelings it brought, dissolved. When the world reformed around her, it was in a building. A strange building like Rora had never seen before. She was standing in a hall with soaring ceilings, the walls formed of a warm, sand-colored brick. The windows were equally as vast, and looked out onto a tropical forest, alive with ferns and flowers in vibrant colors. Birds with long tails in every color of the rainbow flew there, making calls that sounded more like music than chirping and whistles. "Mother!" She turned at the call, and saw a small child running down the hall toward her. Rora wondered who it was, and the person in the dream answered. A warm, maternal feeling, accompanied by fond annoyance. This little girl was her daughter. As the small girl drew closer, Rora recognized a flicker of power - coming from the toddler. She didn't know what it meant, but Shuusha did. This little girl would be powerful when she grew up, stronger than her older brothers and sisters, and with a mix of powers that the goddess hadn't yet seen. The knowledge of why this child would have a strange mix of abilities snapped Rora out of the dream once more. Shock, cold and slapping, slammed her once again into the dark in-between place. Shuusha and Traggen had children? Together? That small child had the power of the earth and sea running through her veins? How? Why? Blessings. It was little more than a whisper, as if the speaker was weak. The Blessings bestowed by divine blood on the human offspring of gods. Rora appeared to have lost contact with her body entirely, and the absence of bodily responses to panic almost made it worse. Blessings were gifts of godly heritage? But that meant - that meant that Arasha had descended from Shuusha herself. That every priest and priestess with a Blessing could trace their ancestry back to the goddess. She should question this, she knew. Not simply take it at face value. She'd been told that all of this was from a demon, after all. Except, she’d stopped believing that. She didn’t know when, exactly; she’d questioned it before, but that possibility was no longer in her list of options. She no longer believed there was a demon. That there had ever been a demon. That same strange knowing, the part of her that seemed to have a proper grasp of what was happening, informed her that she was missing something. A key piece to the puzzle. The information that would make it all fall into place. But she didn't know where to find it, and before she could think more carefully on this subject, her shock had faded, and the dream returned. She was in the stone hall again. But this time, the light through the windows indicated that it was later in the day - perhaps even sunset. She walked toward the windows, and peered through the glass. She could barely see the sky for the fronds of the palms and ferns that grew outside. But the tiny slivers she could see told her that it was, indeed, sunset. The sound of approaching footsteps drew her attention. They were hurried, almost...frantic. She spun on the spot, and her gaze landed on a man in homespun clothing. He had dirt crusted around his knuckles and fingernails, and there was a slight gleam of sweat on his skin. He'd been in the fields. The fear in his eyes sent a spike of anxiety through her. "What's wrong?" she asked at once. "It's Traggen, my lady," the man said. "He's hurt-" Before he could finish his explanation, she was moving past him, her feet flying across the polished stone floor. The small child she’d seen before now seemed an omen. Shuusha and Traggen had always, as long as Rora had known, been in conflict. That was clearly false, or a child wouldn’t have ever existed. She knew that children could be produced without love, or committed relationships, though it was rare, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Not for Shuusha and Traggen. She was running, leaving the palace, flashing through the muggy air of the tropical forest, until it vanished, pulling back to reveal a series of fields. She'd known where he was going to be that day. Rora almost recognized the fear, the panic, in the goddess as she ran. Shuusha knew Traggen. Personally. Well enough to know exactly where he’d planned to be that day, and to be frightened at the idea that he was hurt. The goddess ran, Rora in the back of her mind like a hitchhiker, wondering what could hurt a god. There was a rush of water, and she looked up to see the sea dragon mother streaking through the water. Her scales gleamed in every shade of green, blue, and silver as she arced gracefully toward her nest. She swam up to Rora without fear, and another alien thought informed Rora that this beast meant her no harm. The musical keening sound it made told her that it was happy to see her.
She'd been watching the nest - babysitting. But now the mother dragon had returned, and was curling protectively around her babies. She could leave now, but didn't. The mother dragon slid her head toward Rora, resting her chin on the stone. Sitting, Rora was able to meet the dragon's eye - a great, sapphire eye that held more intelligence than she'd expected. The dragon nudged Rora's knee with her snout, and Rora placed one of her hands on it. The dragon was slightly warmer than the water that surrounded them, and she was vibrating slightly. A purr, Rora knew. Like that of a cat. The dragon liked her, was happy to see her. Was fond of her. How she knew this, she couldn't have explained, but instead of the wild, electric feeling of the storms, something warm and peaceful nestled in her heart. She was wanted. Loved. Even if it was by the most fearsome predator in the seas. She didn't pause to consider the implications of that, and neither did the dream sequence. It had shown her what it wanted her to see, apparently, and whisked her away. The next dream was like it, except this time the sea dragon babies had hatched, and were large enough that they could wrap themselves around Rora's arms and get tangled in her hair. She was beneath the sea again, and something told her this wasn't the same clutch of young that she'd seen before. It was another time, another dragon mother. But the babies burbled and sang as they spun around her in a whirlwind, occasionally darting closer to her for a stroke or a nip, or to twine around her before rejoining their siblings. The mother dragon was curled up nearby, watching her offspring with an emerald eye. But she was relaxed; there was nothing to fear. Not for her, or for her still nearly-helpless children. They were perfectly safe with Rora, as nothing would attack them while she was present... The dream vanished. This time the next dream didn't hit immediately. She sat in darkness for an unknown period of time. Long enough to wonder what was happening, and to miss the sense of comradery the dragons had exuded at her presence. They were hers, these strange and powerful beasts. That they were all dead now sent a pang through her heart. Why had they all died? Why were they extinct? What had happened? With the seas ascendant in the world, shouldn’t they have become more numerous? But the next dream began, ignoring her questions. She saw the tropical forest again, except this time she was on the ground. She could feel a coming storm, like waves of electricity passing over her skin. It would hit soon. The wind was cold, and growing stronger. She walked through the trees, following a path. It was narrow, and at first she thought it was a path some animal had made. She'd seen no sign of people in any of her dreams before, so when the village appeared before her, the part of her that was still Rora was surprised. Even the part of her that wasn't Rora was surprised, however, when she saw a carving of a tree in the village square. That wasn't iconography of the sea. It was something else. She walked up to it, peering at the carving. It was a three-dimensional carving, worked out of one large piece of wood. It had been polished with incredible care, and set on a dais. She turned her attention away from the tree, and saw that a jumble of what appeared to be offerings had been placed on the ground before it. Her eyes narrowed. Last she had checked, she was the only divine being in this world - Rora jerked out of the dream, and back into the strange, dark place where her thoughts were her own. The shock, she guessed. It was the surprise of realizing exactly whose head she was in during these dreams that had taken her out of them. Were these Shuusha's memories? She didn't know who else it could be. But that was foolish. She was just dreaming. Wasn't she? A small voice in the back of her head pointed out all the strange things that had happened. Maybe it wasn't just a dream. Maybe Shuusha was showing her these things for a reason. Had it been Shuusha's voice guiding her all this time? Was the goddess speaking to her? But Shuusha hadn't spoken for centuries. If she'd ever spoken at all - some people in the city had started to believe that she'd never really existed. But if this was the goddess trying to communicate, then why? The dream re-formed around her, and she settled back to watch. |
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