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The cloud vanished, as if it had been sucked into her, and left nothing behind. Rora patted at her arms and face, but felt no difference. The voice sighed, once, and it sounded like someone had breathed the word "finally" into Rora's ear. And that was when the pain started. Excruciating pain erupted inside her skull, and she clapped her hands over her ears, as if to block out sound. But that didn't help in the slightest. Something had forced its way into her mind, something too big for her head to hold. It was pressed at the seams of her skull, trying to find space - She screamed, but instead of sound, blue ink flowed from between her lips. The pain stopped, and the ink curled itself back into the waiting clay pot like a snake. Waiting. Things she'd forgotten exploded into her mind like starbursts. She'd had him - she'd had him - and he'd gotten away. She clutched both hands to her chest as the heartbreak hit her like a battering ram. She’d been so close. She'd touched him, if only for a moment, and then that - that priest had dragged her away - ! No. Rora shook her head. Except, Rora wasn't her name. It never had been, it had just been what people called her. But who she had been was still there, and the part of her that had answered to the name Rora remembered. Thead. Thead had been trying to protect her - he hadn't known. Couldn't have known. This simmering anger at being taken from Oksay - from Traggen - was misdirected. Thead didn't deserve any of the vengeful plots that played out in her mind, one after the other, like flickers of lightning. If anyone deserved that anger, it was herself. Rora. She almost laughed at the ceiling of the shrine. Her shrine. She'd chosen well. Rora was methodical, reasonable. She, herself, was methodical and reasonable. Yes, Rora had made choices that kept her from Traggen. She had been frightened, and lost. But she knew everything now. The answers she'd needed were all there. She looked down at the pot in her lap, and felt a strange tenderness in her heart. She remembered making it. How she couldn't bear to spend more time on it than was necessary. But it had held her memories, kept them safe for the centuries she had to wait. She peered at the coiled ink inside, and smiled. The memories she didn't need, waiting to be retrieved, to leave space in her mind so her mortal body wouldn't break. She slid the pot back on its shelf, pulled to the front so that it was no longer hidden by its taller, prettier brothers. Her heart clenched, and her stomach rolled slightly. This body wasn't used to such powerful emotions. But Rora knew how to deal with them. Had learned how to deal with them. Perhaps not as well as she could have, but the death of her mother, giving up her brother, and then everything that had happened since - yes, she could handle this now. Handle it better than she had in any of her other lifetimes. Rora stood up, steadying herself on the shelving. The golden algae moved closer, touching her skin with a sensation like static. They were happy to see her. She smiled down at them. They weren't capable of much feeling, but she was familiar, and had been gone a long time. She touched the cloud, and projected a feeling of warmth - of love, and of pride. The algae that lived here now was generations removed from the ancestors she had given their charge. But they had kept it all the same, performing the function she'd given them over the years, even though so many had lived and died with nothing to show for it. They came closer, swirling around her limbs in their version of a hug. Stay here, she told them. You’ve done well. They stayed in the tunnel as she made her way back to the entrance. Her presence would provide enough cell memory that they would continue to do as they'd been told, in the hopes that they would see her again. She called upon the water in the tunnel, and it answered, sweeping her down with such speed that her belly swooped. She laughed, and a moment later shot out into the cavern. She was back. She had a human body, and the lessons she had learned while human would serve her well. Traggen was alive, and walking the earth again like his old self. It was tempting, so tempting, to get caught up in how close her goal was to completion, and forget everything else. Rora reasserted herself, with a firmness that was sorely needed. She would rescue Arasha, first. The acolyte. She almost laughed again. Acolyte indeed - Arasha was high priestess now, not a lowly acolyte. Yes, that's what she would do first. Return to the boat on the surface, rescue her high priestess, her best friend. And then she would announce her return to the world. Rora paused just over the threshold as the cloud of golden algae lit the gloom. She stared into the shrine, and tried in vain to stop the trembling of her hands. She could now see the walls of the shrine. It wasn't as small as it had appeared from the outside - it seemed to continue past the walls of the cavern. The algae drifted past her, and up toward the ceiling, further illuminating the dark.
Rora inhaled sharply. The shrine wasn't a shrine. It was a tunnel, lined with shelves, delved deep into the stone. Even with the light of the algae, Rora couldn't see where it ended. She assumed this was what the sea dragon had meant by library - but there were no books. Instead of volumes or scrolls, every shelf was laden with pottery. It was in all different sizes and shapes, glazed in colors and patterns that dizzied the eye. What was this place? Rora took a step forward, and a cloud of silt raised at her touch. It had been a long time since anyone came here. She moved forward through the water, her every movement disturbing more silt, and sending it up into the air. The algae led her on like a guide, a swirling mass, lighting up ever more of the tunnel, and revealing more shelves laden with pottery. What is this? She asked, hoping for an answer from the voice. But none came. Instead, there was a tugging sensation in the vicinity of her chest. She followed it on instinct, moving down the corridor, ignoring the pottery. Some of the pots were large enough to be used for carrying water for a family, some were so small they were barely vials. Some were tall and graceful as vases, some as squat as a basket meant for carrying reeds. But they all had one thing common: in the mouth of every vessel was a cork, sealing it tight. She didn't know how long she half-walked half-swam that way. The pottery went through shifts, where the clay had been one color for some time, and then changed dramatically from one shelf to the shelf. But more noticeable was the change in decoration. The first vessels Rora had seen were crude, lopsided. Many had lacked glaze, and the few that bore any decoration had simple pattern scratched into the surface. But as she pressed forward, the pottery grew smoother, as if the hand that made it had grown more practiced. Glazes appeared, and the colors multiplied. The shapes grew more elaborate. Rora knew without being told that the first vessel bearing gold leaf heralded the beginning of the end. They grew ever more expensive after that, gilded with precious metals and crusted with gems that gleamed dully in the golden algae-light. And then, abruptly, the shelves were empty. She went on for a few steps before she realized, and then stopped. The shelves continued on into the darkness, but the pottery had ended. She turned and backtracked, looking for the final piece. At first, she couldn't find it; it wasn’t until she got down on her hands on knees that she saw it, hiding beside one of its larger, fancier brethren. It was small, small enough that she could cup it between her palms. She retrieved it, stirring up another cloud of silt as she did so. She settled cross-legged on the floor, holding it in her lap. It was a sad piece of work, she thought. It looked as though its maker had tried to form it standing tall, with straight sides, but they had collapsed into warped ripples. It didn't have a cork in it, like the others, but instead had a loose fitting lid. It was the lid that held the object's only decoration, a scratched symbol that Rora didn't recognize. She ran one finger over the ridges of the symbol. Was this what she'd been meant to find? And if so, why? Open it. The voice seemed clearer than before. Closer. But it was still a whisper, though Rora thought that perhaps this was for some reason other than weakness. Fear? The lid had a small knob on it, off-center, and Rora grabbed it. She pulled, but the top was stuck fast. She frowned, and the algae swirled closer, as if interested in what she was doing. She tightened her grip on the lid, and gave it a yank. It popped off so suddenly that Rora rocked backward, and her movement with the accompanying silt masked what happened next. Something poured from the vessel, and swirled into the water like ink. A dark blue ink, spreading like dye. When Rora had righted herself, she watched it for a moment, and then reached out one hand. At first, the dye swirled away from her fingers. But after a moment during which she felt like she was under inspection, it flung itself at her. She lurched backward, but the inky cloud moved faster, absorbing into her skin until nothing was left. For a long while after, Rora only knew they were still moving because the pressure around them increased, and the water was still tugging at her clothes and hair. It was so dark she could see nothing, even when she looked upward, she could only see water of a slightly lighter hue, and not the sun.
How deep were they going to go? The water had turned icy, though it, like the depth, didn't seem to affect her. She still had no need to breathe, but that now seemed like the least of the strange of the events that had happened that day. Where are you taking me? Rora asked the dragon. She again received the same series of pictures and feelings. The library, the temple. This place was old, Rora knew that, the dragon had already said. That wasn't strange. The existence of a temple and a library down this far, however... She noticed it first as a slight lessening of the cold. After another few minutes, however, she noticed a distinct warmth in the water. The bone-chilling cold receded, and returned in waves - as if they were passing over heat vents in the ocean floor. Rora knew such things existed, but had no idea there were any in the Trench. Did that mean they were approaching the bottom? The next thing she noticed were slight blooms of light. She thought, at first, that these were reactions to being in such a dark place, but then they increased, and she found she could see the dragon beneath her again. A few moments later, the dragon came, at long last, to a stop. Rora peered down, and saw that they had landed at the very bottom of the Trench. There was smooth stone on which the dragon stood, lit by strange clouds that shifted and billowed, glowing in the gloom. She saw cracks in the stone, and when the glowing clouds passed over them they were disturbed - heat vents. The walls of the Trench were closer here than they were above, and she could see things growing there, nourished by the faint light and the heat from the vents. It wasn't until one of the glowing clouds passed directly over her head that she realized what it was. The same algae that they collected in their lamps. She laughed, opening her mouth, and breathing in without thinking about it. She clamped a hand over her mouth and watched in horror as the air she'd held behind her lips came out as a bubble, and floated upward. Her nostrils didn't sting from breathing in sea water, nor did she feel panic as water passed down into her lungs. The dragon beneath her hummed reassuringly, and Rora breathed in experimentally. She could breathe beneath the water. This didn’t alarm or surprise her, though it should have. Is this where I'm supposed to be? Rora asked. The dragon shifted its head, pointing toward a dark crevice in the wall of the Trench. That's where I need to go? The dragon trilled, a yes. The crack was nowhere near large enough for the dragon to slither through, so Rora slid down from her perch. She landed on the bottom, sending up a puff of silt and sand, and made her way toward the crack. She paused just before swimming inside, and looked back at the dragon. The creature tipped its head to one side, and sent her another mental picture. She would here, waiting for Rora's return. Rora looked back at the cave entrance, and swallowed painfully. What was in there? Was it something dangerous? And she had to go in without the dragon. She looked back at the dragon, but the beast had curled in on itself, settling on the bottom to wait, and was no longer paying her any attention. Rora breathed deeply of the sea water, and passed into the dark, cold of the cave. Alone. She left the relative light of the sea bed behind after only a few steps, and reached out to touch the walls. It was narrow, more a tunnel than a cave, and it lead straight as an arrow into the stone. There were no turnings, and she encountered no living things. She had been moving forward for quite some time when the sides of the tunnel opened up unexpectedly on either side, and she froze. A moment later, she saw a light. She squinted, and moved toward it, and as she came closer, she realized that it was a cloud of golden algae, glowing softly. By the light of the algae, she saw that she was in a cavern. It was large, but not so large that she had to worry about finding her way back. As she drew closer to the algae, it seemed to brighten, illuminating the cavern ceiling - and what lay below it. There was, indeed, a temple there. Ancient and crumbling, coated with algae and alive with seaweed, its shape was still visible. But it was the only structure in the cave. Where was the library? She pressed onward, pausing at the entrance to the temple for a long moment. The algae's light didn't reach inside, and it was dark in there. She wondered if it would be possible to capture a handful of the algae and bring it with her. The moment she thought this, the cloud shifted, and began to move. As if her wish was a command it had been waiting for, it poured through the door before her, lighting the inside of the temple. She stepped through after it. The dragon spun and swam toward the dark depths of the Trench, and the carnivorous fish that filled the waters darting out of its path. They knew who the dominant species was, and to stay out of its way.
Rora wrapped her hands around the frill of short spines that circled the sea dragon's neck, and held on tightly as they increased in speed. Her hair streamed out behind her, tugging against her scalp. With a suddenness that would have made her gasp had she not been holding her breath, the dragon plunged deeper as it angled toward the Trench. A few heartbeats later, they passed the walls of the island, and into the dark canyon of the Trench. The walls were sheer, and very little grew there, even up where the sunlight warmed the stone. Only a few spindly corals, with pale colors, clinging determinedly to the cracks where they had sprouted. Once they were in the Trench itself, the dragon again plunged deeper. Rora found that the desire to take a breath was simply not there. She had been holding it for some time now, and was experiencing no struggle. She was reminded forcibly of the dream that had woken her, the herald of things to come, if she'd only known it at the time. The dream where she stood on the sandy bottom, staring upward, not needing to breathe. But perhaps more concerning was the fact that she was having no reaction to the depth. They had gone much deeper than was safe for divers - that much was obvious. She could feel the pressure, and knew instinctively that had she brought Arasha, her friend might now be dead. She wondered briefly why it was that she was still alive, but quickly became distracted by her surroundings. The island had been left behind, and they were now in the Trench proper. A dark canyon, spreading to either side like a cut in the sea bed. The fish continued to make way for the dragon and Rora, and she caught glimpses of creatures she had never seen before. Animals that the fishermen had never pulled from the sea. The deeper they went, the stranger the creatures grew, formless, with snaggle-teeth and enormous eyes. The water grew colder around her. Why, she wondered, had the voice instructed her to drink the water from the surface if where she really needed to be was at the bottom of the Trench? There was a slight pressure on her mind, and the sensation of amusement. She leaned forward, and saw that the dragon had rolled one eye back, and was looking at her. Rora thought the beast was laughing. What's funny? Rora asked, directing the thought toward the dragon. In return, she received an image: herself, leaning over the side to scoop water into her hands, and the dragon pulling her into the sea with a splash. Oh. Ordering her to drink the water was just to get her out of the boat. Rora frowned, and the dragon continued to laugh silently as she spun ever downward. She wasn't actually meant to drink the water. But what was she supposed to do, then? She supposed she could only trust the dragon, and her new ability to hold her breath for so long that she was starting to get a little worried. Whatever had come upon her on the boat, leading her by the hand, had vanished, taking its strange guidance with it. Shuusha? She wondered. Had the goddess done that, so she would know what to do? She didn't know what to think anymore. Was the goddess taking care of her because she was a loving goddess? Or because she needed Rora's body? Rora had no idea anymore, and decided not to think about it further. She'd made her choice on the boat. Instead, she continued to watch the changing landscape about her. As much as she could, at least; the light was vanishing the deeper they went, and the number of fish had lessened considerably as well. What is this place? Rora asked the dragon. As before, she received not words, but pictures feelings: a library, a temple, and the sense of great age. That didn't exactly answer her question. What sort of library could possibly exist beneath the surface of the sea? A temple made of stone could survive, she supposed. But books? The dragon shifted her hold on the boat again, tipping it dangerously far to one side.
"Fine, fine," the guard said, fumbling for his ring of keys. "I'll try anything at this point," He muttered to himself as he unlocked the cell. Rora stepped into the corridor. "What about me?" Arasha asked. "You'll be safer here," Rora said. "There's something I have to do, and I don't think you can come with me." "But-" The guard slammed the cell door shut, and grabbed Rora's upper arm in a firm grip. He steered her down the corridor, and helped her up the ladder. Her hands were still tied, but that didn't matter, somehow. It had seemed important only a few minutes before, but now it was an errant detail, something she could deal with later. When she was led out on deck, her eyes landed on the dragon immediately. She was an enormous creature, large enough that she was wrapped several times around the boat, and still had enough length for the end of her tail to be flicking angrily through the water. She had tipped the boat sideways, and was staring down all the crewmembers, who were hanging for dear life onto anything they could find. Her head was fully above the surface, revealing a maw large enough to swallow two men whole, and enormous sapphire eyes alight with intelligence. "Hello lovely," Rora said. The sound of her voice snapped the dragon's attention to her at once. The creature trilled, a surprisingly gentle sound, and her coils relaxed, allowing the boat to settle back into its proper horizontal position. The dragon leaned forward slightly, and sniffed. When it breathed out, the wind of its breath ruffled Rora's dress. Rora realized the guard had released her, stumbling backward, and away from the beast. Rora raised her hands, both together, since they were tied, and the dragon froze. She fixed her eyes on Rora's wrists, and growled. "It's just rope," Rora said soothingly. The dragon was clearly upset about Rora being bound; her grip on the boat tightened again, and she bared her teeth. "I'm all right," Rora promised. The dragon snorted, clearly unsure about this. But she came closer, so that her chin hovered over the deck. She opened her mouth a little further, revealing rows of razor sharp teeth. The suggestion was clear, and Rora took it. She lifted her hands over one of the lower teeth in the creature's jaw, and pressed the rope binding her hands against the edge of the tooth. A moment later, the bindings fell to the deck. "Thank you," Rora said. The dragon trilled again, and lowered her head all the way to the deck. "You're going to take me where I need to go?" Rora asked. The rumble in the dragon's throat was clearly an assent. The dragon turned her head, revealing a length of neck. Rora took a deep breath, and climbed carefully onto the beast's neck, directly behind her head. She was damp, sea water still dripping off her in gleaming streams that fell like glittering diamonds onto the deck. The scales were smooth, and chill beneath Rora’s hands as she settled into place. It wasn't until the dragon had lifted her head - and Rora - into the air, that Rora took proper notice of the crew. They were cowering in whatever hidden places they could find, and many had pulled medallions from beneath their clothes, which they clutched in white fingers. They were all watching her, and a few were whispering silent prayers. She wondered what they saw, exactly, and in a flash she remembered a scene from a religious textbook. She hadn't thought of it for years - an image of the goddess, riding a dragon, exactly as Rora was now preparing to do. This surprised her - were they seeing an image of the goddess too? That couldn't be it - could it? She was so preoccupied by this that when the dragon dove for the ocean, all she could do was gasp in a breath before she was plunged beneath the waves. The cold slapped into her, and she was blinded by a curtain of silvery bubbles. But after a few moments, the water cleared, and she was able to see. She looked back over her shoulder, and saw the bottom of the boat, bobbing alone in the sea. The water around it was clear; all the carnivorous fish had fled at the arrival of the dragon, but she could see them lurking below in the depths. They wouldn't bother her as long as she was with the dragon, she knew. She turned her attention to where they were going, and saw the behemoth outcropping of rock that formed the island. She could see the rift in the island, the Trench itself, filled with schools upon schools of enormous fish. That, she knew, was their goal. "What do you mean, there's a dragon coming?" Arasha asked. She wasn't frightened of the dragon - not yet. "Dragons are extinct, and have been for-"
Arasha was interrupted by an impact that sent them both tumbling. Rora rolled head over heels, and came to rest against the side of the cell, the side that stood between her and the sea. "What was that?" Arasha asked. Now, Rora noted, she was afraid. There was an edge of hysteria to her voice that hadn't been there before. Above deck, Rora heard screams of terror, and calls for harpoons, nets - anything. As she righted herself, she noticed the grinding and creaking of wood. The dragon was looping around the boat, preventing it from moving. The echoing cry that was now familiar to Rora from her visions sounded: the dragon was there, and looking for her. "She's here," Rora said. "She?" Arasha squeaked. "Rora, what's going on?" The cry had been distinctly feminine, Rora thought. Clearly it was a female dragon. How she knew that, she neither knew nor cared. What mattered was that the dragon had come, and was now waiting for Rora to show herself. "She's here to help," Rora said. She pressed one hand against the side of the boat. The trance should have ended, but it had not. Instead it had morphed, somehow, into something that functioned while Rora was otherwise occupied. She didn't have to focus to maintain it - at least, not at the moment. She reached out with her mind and gently touched the dragon. The creature trilled, a sound that Rora identified as a greeting. Rora smiled. "I missed you too," Rora murmured. Her words jerked her back to herself, and for a moment she was disoriented. How could she have missed a dragon? She’d never seen one. And the dragon had certainly never seen or known her. What was happening? A moment later, however, the strange veil fell over her again, and her questions were muffled beneath a layer of knowing - of certainty that she didn't think was really hers. One of the crew would come shortly. They would suspect that she had something to do with what was happening on deck, and come to question her. As soon as they realized the dragon wasn't attacking, only holding them hostage. For the moment. "You missed who?" Arasha asked. She was bracing herself against the wall, and her eyes were wide. Her face had gone pale, and Rora knew that only part of her fear was the arrival of the dragon. Arasha couldn't see what Rora could sense, after all. She didn’t actually know what was happening above. All she knew was that her friend was acting strange. That something she didn't understand was afoot. "I don't know," Rora answered honestly. "She seems familiar." "She?" "The dragon," Rora explained. "Dragons are extinct," Arasha repeated. "No," Rora said. "They're not. In hibernation in the Trench, yes. Gone, no. But one of them is awake now. Or maybe two." She remembered the flash of silver she’d seen from the boat. "How could you possibly know that?" Arasha asked, her voice going still higher in pitch. "Didn't you hear her?" Rora asked. "That was a greeting." Arasha didn't respond, only stared at her. "She's holding the ship," Rora explained. "She's looking for me." "That doesn't make any sense," Arasha said. She looked up. "Everything's stopped." She was right. "She's not going to attack unless I don't show up shortly," Rora said. "She's here for me." Arasha looked, if possible, even paler at this pronouncement. "What's happening?" she asked in a whisper. "What's going on? I don’t understand-" The trapdoor at the far end of the corridor flew open. They both turned to look, and saw one of the guards from earlier coming down the ladder so swiftly that Rora thought he might fall. He walked on shaking legs to the cell door. "Do you two know anything about this?" he demanded. His voice trembled, and he was paler than Arasha. "Tell me one of you knows what's going on. Why that - that thing has us and won't let go." "She's here for me," Rora said, standing and shaking out her skirt. "She hasn't attacked yet because she knows I'm here, and she's giving you a chance to bring me out." The guard's eyes landed on her, and she saw skepticism clearly in them. The boat rumbled, a reaction to the dragon growling outside. "She's not very patient," Rora said. "Let me out." "No." The rumbling grew stronger, and the wood of the boat creaked again as the dragon tightened its embrace. "Take me out, and throw me over the side," Rora suggested, walking up to the cell door and grabbing the bars. "If she decides to attack, we'll be fine. But she'll tear this thing to shreds looking for us." "This is a nightmare," the guard said. "It can't be happening. We're just supposed to take you back to the city." "If you try to take me back to the city now you won't make it that far," Rora said simply. Above deck, the dragon growled her impatience. It was there, as if it had been waiting for her.
She slipped into the trance, and sensed the sea floor far below. The blind spot that was the island was drifting further away, along with all the life forms she'd seen before - the massive fish that had come to inspect them. There was a swarm of them there, spiraling down into the depths of the sea. She was so distracted by the sheer number of fish there that she almost missed the bulk of the island itself. She had seen only the tiniest tip of it from the boat, but now, in communion with the sea, she could see more. It was a ruin. It would have been impossible to see from up close - it was ancient. But from a distance, Rora could see the pattern of man-made foundations and fallen walls. She could trace the outline in her mind, and thought it seemed vaguely familiar. As if she'd seen it before... And there, in the core of the island, she could sense a thin line. There was a tunnel, a cave, twisting down to a cavern filled with water. The cavern wasn't empty. There were fish there, too, but none that she'd ever seen before. These life forms felt familiar, but she knew she'd never seen them before. Why did they seem so familiar? Her eyes flew open. There were sea dragons there. Asleep, but alive. That was why they seemed familiar - she'd seen them in that vision. "There are sea dragons," she gasped, looking at Arasha. "Not extinct - they're alive!" "What?" But Rora didn't stop to answer Arasha' questions, though she asked several more, and tried in vain to get Rora's attention. She knew this ruin. She didn't know how, or why, but as her mind twisted through the tunnel in the island, she found she knew the turnings. As she went on, prodding into every corner, she thought that one corner ought to have had a shelf on it - a shelf with books. There was an alcove of some kind, and she was certain there had been a bust of Shuusha kept there on a pedestal. It wasn't until she went higher within the island that she found what had once been a hall, and she recognized it properly. The place from her vision - the hall where she'd seen the little girl. The child that was alight with the powers of Shuusha and Traggen combined. This, the Shuushan Trench, had once housed the palace Rora had seen in her visions. Come back, the voice whispered. Help is coming. Rora opened her eyes, and turned to Arasha. "Get ready," she said. "For what?" Arasha asked. "Why?" Rora was no longer deep in her trance, but she could still sense the sea. It didn't occur to her to be afraid of this development. She was transfixed by what was happening in the Trench. The cavern where the sea dragons hibernated had gone deathly still. And, as she watched, in the grips of a new kind of trance that she couldn't control or understand, one of the dragons stirred. "Help is coming," Rora said, echoing the words the voice had whispered into her mind. The dragon unfurled, shook itself, and then turned unerringly in their direction. "A dragon is coming," Rora said. She didn't see the expression of alarm on Arasha's face, though she knew, in an abstract sort of way, that Arasha wasn't afraid of the dragon. She was afraid of Rora. She didn't believe the dragon was coming - she couldn't see it as it twined its way through the tunnels, gaining speed. It would stop the boat, Rora knew. It would stop the boat, and allow Rora to jump into the waters. It would hold the boat for her, long enough for her to escape, and then it would carry her to her destination and back. She knew without asking, without searching for an answer, that she would only be gone a short while. She would come back. She had made her decision. She was a priestess. She'd been a priestess, or aspiring to be a priestess, all her life. Now that she was called upon to do something no other member of the priesthood had done, would she abandon her faith? Things had gone very wrong, yes, but never so wrong that they couldn't be all right again. The voice had saved her life more than once. And if she gave her life for the goddess, then her work was done. She could rest, and vanish, and worry about none of this ever again. She was going back to the Trench, and she would drink the water. She would end this. The sea dragon broke free of the island, and arrowed directly for the boat. Above, on deck, Rora heard shouts of dismay. The crew had spotted it. "This isn't part of some master plan that I have," Rora said, turning away from the bars and facing the rest of the cell. "Things just happen, and I have to find some way of dealing with them. This is just...another wrinkle." She sank down onto the floor, and pulled her knees to her chest.
Arasha stood there, staring. "So there's no plan to get us out of this," she said. She sat down beside Rora. "No," Rora said. "There's no plan. There's never been a plan. Not really." She sighed, and leaned her head against the bars. Her face was angled so she could see a sliver of sky through the cell window. "I don't know what's happening anymore. If I ever did. I just don't understand. Why would the voice tell me to drink seawater? That would only make things worse." There was a moment of silence. "Would it, though?" Arasha asked tentatively. "What?" Rora jerked her head up to look at her friend. "How would that have made anything better?" "Well..." Arasha hesitated. "Never mind. It's stupid." "What's stupid?" Rora asked. "It’s just...well, you told me about when Oksay got to the island. That shrine was to Traggen, right? A holy place." "Yes," Rora said. Where was Arasha going with this? "You said that Oksay heard a voice, telling him to eat that fruit in the shrine. Well, the Shuushan Trench is Shuusha's most holy place, and you heard a voice telling you to consume something..." she trailed off. "Are you suggesting that Shuusha wants to take my body, like Traggen took Oksay's?" Rora demanded. "Maybe?" Arasha shrugged. "The two situations are similar. Aren't they?" Rora didn't answer. Arasha did have a point, she conceded reluctantly. She hadn't thought about it from that perspective. And if Arasha was right? Rora slumped against the bars. If that was what Shuusha had wanted, then didn't Rora, as a priestess, have the responsibility to fulfill that desire? Wasn't that something she should have done to please her goddess? It was her faith, after all; was it really so weak that she'd refuse to do such a thing? She'd like to think the answer was no, but she was no longer certain. After everything, she was no longer certain she trusted the goddess. What would Shuusha do with Rora's body? Would Rora simply cease to exist? "If that's what she wants," Rora said quietly "should I do it?" "What?" Arasha asked. "If Shuusha wants my body, to use it like Traggen did Oksay, then is that something I should do? What if I'm just...gone?" Arasha blinked at her as if she hadn't thought of that. "I...don't know," she said. "We don't know what happened to Oksay," Rora explained. "If he's still in there somewhere, or if he's just...gone. We don't know what will happen to me. And if I give up my body like that, what will it do to my family? I'll be gone. I assume forever." "Imagine your sister showing up at your door, but it's not her anymore, it's a powerful goddess," Arasha said. "that would be terrifying. And...like you'd died." "I wouldn't have to deal with all of this anymore," Rora said quietly. "Don't talk like that," Arasha snapped. "Don't you dare give up." "I'm a priestess, Arasha," Rora said, pushing to her feet. She started to pace, walking from one wall to the other. The cell was so small, however, that it didn't make for a satisfying loop. "I'm called to serve the goddess. What kind of priestess am I if, the moment things get hard, I say no? Aren't we taught that we're meant to be willing to give our lives in her service?" "She doesn't ask for that," Arasha argued. "What if she just did?" Rora snapped back. Arasha fell silent. "What if she did and I failed some important test? What if this whole thing was just...to see if I was someone she could trust to do this? And I just failed?" "We don't know that," Arasha argued. "And there's no point in beating yourself up over it anyway. It's done and over with now. It's too late." Rora paused, staring at the window. She could feel the movement of the boat across the sea as it carried them back to the city. She went very still. "No," she said slowly. "I don't think it is." "Rora," Arasha said, sounding suspicious. "What are you thinking?" But Rora didn't answer her. She sank down into a cross-legged position, and placed her hands on her knees. Then she closed her eyes. Shuusha, she prayed. I don't know if this is what you want from me or not. But if it is, then I'm going to need your help to get back there. She ended her prayer, and then focused on her breathing. "Rora, Shuno said not to commune with the sea. Are you sure that's-" "Shuno is a jerk," Rora snapped. "He clearly has no idea what's going on, and this is the only idea I've got. So do me a favor, and just...be quiet. All right?" To her surprise, Arasha retreated, watching warily. Rora closed her eyes. Rora shot Arasha a look, and Arasha rolled her eyes.
"Fine, fine," she said. The captain looked at them warily, and then waved at his crew. Two of the crewmembers, men, stepped from their boat onto The Wind of Fate. One approached Arasha, and the other stepped up to Rora. She looked up at him, and saw what she thought was a flicker of regret on his face. "Sorry about this," he muttered. Rora watched him appraisingly as he pulled a length of rope from his pocket, and tied it securely around her wrists. "If I had another Blessing you would be a lot more cautious than this," Arasha said, sounding affronted. "If we're so dangerous then why-" "Oh, shut up," her guard said. "You predict the weather, and the only thing you're known for is getting caught up in mischief." Rora glanced over in time to see Arasha stick her tongue out. She sighed quietly. They were in enough trouble as it was, but of course Arasha couldn't simply take it quietly. She might have started giggling, if the situation hadn’t been so frightening. "You're the one that's dangerous," Rora's guard said. "Am I?" she asked. She was surprised to find that she really didn't know the answer. She knew that she was seen as dangerous - that much was obvious. But was she, really? "You don't seem dangerous to me," he muttered quietly, checking his knots on the ropes around her wrists. "But what do I know?" Rora's mouth quirked up in a half-grin. "Maybe more than you think," she said. It was as if someone else said the words. "But then again, maybe I'm just as dangerous as they say. Or worse." He looked uncomfortable, and as he took her shoulder, turning her toward the peacekeeper vessel, she shook herself. Why had she said that? It didn't make sense. She wasn't dangerous. Not at all. Or was she? She allowed the guard to help her over the railing, and onto the deck of the other ship. She lifted her chin - something about the situation made her determined to show strength - and followed as she was led into the cabin. Arasha and her guard followed after. The cabin was strangely dark after the light of day, and she couldn't see, at first. She could only hear the sound of fumbling, and then a creak. When her eyes adjusted, she saw that the creak had been the opening of a trapdoor in the floor, and the guards were ushering them down the ladder inside it. Arasha was taken down first, the guard watching carefully so she didn't tumble all the way down. Her hands were tied together - and that made it difficult for her to maneuver. The guards didn't seem to be in a big hurry, however, and let her take her time. Only once Arasha was down at the bottom did Rora's guard nudge her toward the trapdoor. She lowered herself to her knees, and inched backward over the ladder. She made it down two rungs, and then a pair of hands seized her around the waist, swinging her down into blackness. She yelped, and a moment later found herself set on a solid surface. "Not waiting for you to do it yourself," Arasha's guard said. "Your friend took long enough." "That's what you get for tying our hands," Arasha said indignantly. "We decided to come with you - if we were going to resist we'd have done it somewhere else." "She's not wrong," Rora muttered. The second guard joined them a moment later, and Rora heard a metallic clanging - a ring of keys. Down here was even darker than the cabin had been, and Rora’s eyes had to adjust further. When they did so, she saw a narrow hall, so tight and close that she had only a few inches of clearance on either side of her shoulders as she was herded down it. At the very end of the hall, she saw barred shadows. The brig. Or what passed for one on a ship this small. It was a single cell with bars on the front, and a lone window high in the wall. The guards herded them into the cell, and locked them in. "What are you going to do with us?" Rora asked, turning to face them. "Taking you back to the city," one said. "What else would we be doing?" Rora didn't know. She wrapped her hands around the rough surface of the cell bars, and watched as the guards went up the staircase, and back out into sunlight. "So what do we do now?" Arasha asked. |
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