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Ars Nova
Ch. 54 Premonition: 33 days

Ch. 54 Premonition: 33 days

Ragnar and Tabira sat at a makeshift table across from one another.

Tensions between them were high. Ragnar represented the Reiszer on one side while Tabira the Escapees on the other. One represented the raiders and the other the displaced—both forced to cooperate for survival.

“This can only end well,” thought Xander, suppressing a groan.

Tabira and her people glowered at Ragnar and the other Reiszer, who were the sole reason she and her people were in this predicament. Even if they weren’t directly the assailants, the fact remained that they took part in the raids.

There was no remorse showing on their faces. Hands hovered over their weapons; their eyes sized them up for any opportunity to strike first.

Ragnar tapped his finger on the table as he tried to calm his mind.

Xander stood next to Ragnar, sweating profusely. He did not know where else to be. He didn’t regard the Reiszer as enemies—not anymore—they spoke the same language. To him, Kiur’s people were more strangers than the Reiszer—he avoided Kiur’s gaze when he looked at Xander.

The topic of Cylia had yet to be brought up. Xander hated to admit the fact that they failed to find any sign of her—dead or alive. It seemed as if the world had swallowed Cylia, and she was gone forever.

Despite that, Kiur didn’t push the topic. Xander knew how desperate he was to know about her whereabouts because Xander did so too.

His anxiety grew when he saw Kiur’s worsening mental state.

His red eyes were losing their sheen, the skin underneath flecked with dark spots. His previously warm skin was greying, and his stance was slouching. Exhaustion had taken a toll on them all, but with everything that happened, Kiur took it the worst. Despite all that, he acted as the mediator between the two opposing groups as the only person to speak their languages fluently—Waldemar not included; he was hiding from Ragnar.

“Let us revise the situation,” Kiur started, and his hand slipped off the table, scraping up his skin on the stone—which was odd, considering his affinity to earth magic. Kiur whipped the blood off his ragged shawl, ignoring the curious stares. “My people have agreed to a cooperation, providing aid for the sick and doing whatever’s necessary to escape the desert.”

“People,” Xander mulled over the word. Kiur deliberately differentiated between them all—which was unlike him. Ragnar rubbed his forehead with his thumb and index finger, suppressing the urge to bare his teeth.

“Yet you failed to heal my daughter,” Ragnar grumbled, his eyes red. He frowned in Kiur’s direction. “Is that some sort of trick? To take advantage of the situation or get revenge?”

Xander gulped, uncomfortable about the entire situation. He wanted to say something, but for the first time in a long time, he was at a loss for words—and Ragnar’s tense aura didn’t help at all.

“It’s not our fault,” Tabira retorted. “I communed with Enlil and improved her situation to the point of stabilising her health. There wasn’t much else to do-”

That’s when Ragnar snapped and destroyed the already crumbling table with his fist. “YOU SHOULD HAVE DONE MORE!” shouted Ragnar. The shockwave of magic he sent out shook through the core of everyone present, foe or ally alike.

It felt like hot needles were pricking into the veins, sharp enough to sever nerves, but with Ragnar, it was more akin to heated swords instead.

“This isn’t how Enlil’s blessings work,” Kiur tried to explain the situation himself before Tabira spoke up.

“I could only dispel the poison to the point where it’s not life-threatening,” she sighed tiredly. “There’s only so much we can do without professional healers. Besides, the problem is distinct.”

Ragnar raised a brow at that. “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you suggesting the problem is with her?”

“Something like that.” Tabira took Ninda’s hand and stood up with some difficulty. She approached Ragnar. “We took care of the part regarding the Earth, her body. The other problem regards her soul, the heavenly part.”

“Heavenly?” The Reiszer looked at her in confusion, and so did Xander.

“Earth and Heaven? What abstruse hogwash are you talking about?” Xander scratched his head. He knew about the existence of gods and the ties to magic, but Xander wasn’t particularly religious or interested in the subject.

No one agreed on how souls were connected to magic, gods, heaven, or anything else. They all had different opinions, giving Xander one hell of a headache during his studies.

Especially since he tried to explain to Kiur how to regain control over his magic—it didn’t get far; it was like Xander’s teachings made it hard for Kiur to understand most of it, but it did help him gain some agency.

Regardless, everyone agreed that the soul could either see or perceive the flow of magic. Xander was a classic case of seeing and understanding things, while Kiur relied more on the touch-and-go approach; he needed to feel.

The individual acted according to their perception of magic. Xander knew about a case where one famous Rufer became an infamous weatherman in Hellas for his ability to feel changes in the sky and predict the weather—but he was a lunatic.

“Enlil didn’t tell me much, but,” Tabira hesitated, a shiver running down her spine, “he said not to intervene further into external business. We’re not allowed to trespass jurisdiction on the realm of your gods.”

“Our… gods?” Flabbergasted, Ragnar dropped back to his seat with a loud plop. “We don’t have any gods… not anymore.”

“You don’t?” Kiur asked, worrying about hitting a sore topic.

Ragnar shivered and leaned forward. His people had tears in their eyes. “Our pantheon turned monotheistic decades ago by our conquerors. We thought our gods were dead. Barely anyone knows about the old ways.” Ragnar straightened himself and looked at Tabira with pleading eyes. “Tell me, what was their name? Which god was it,” he hesitated, “and will they save my daughter?”

Tabira and her people felt a pang of guilt. They all had tried to vilify Ragnar and the other Reiszer so much that they forgot they were just people, too.

He was one of the many Reiszer leaders that displaced them, yes, but he was also a worried father and a victim of their own kind of oppression.

“I don’t know,” Tabira answered truthfully. “Enlil wouldn’t say, but he said your daughter will wake up at The End of the River by a grey cat, a lynx? Sorry, I don’t know what–”

“A lynx!?”

Ragnar stumbled back. Unusual fear covered the Reiszers’ faces as they chattered restlessly. Kiur had trouble translating some of it on how much they talked over one another.

“Are you sure?” Ragnar inquired, hands shaking. “Was it really a lynx?”

“Yes, why?”

Ragnar laughed nervously and threw back his face, sobbing into his hands.

“Can someone explain what is going on?” Kiur asked.

“The lynx,” Ragnar chuckled weakly. “It’s a magical creature, important to our people. Just like the wolf and the bear. A guardian of hidden knowledge and spirits. We believe they can look beyond the natural realm, but…”

“But?” they asked when Ragnar hesitated to answer.

He looked up at them. It drew the colour from his face. “They’re believed to have gone extinct since the death of our pantheon… until now. It’s an omen.”

“Heh,” Xander snorted and smirked painfully, “by now, Cylia would say she had a bad feeling about all this.”

Realising what topic he had just brought up, Xander tried to hide his expression, but it didn’t work. Kiur was looking over at him.

“Sonny, you haven’t told him yet?” Ragnar asked, noticing Xander’s awkward squirming. “You ought to tell him.”

“I can’t,” Xander admitted with a whisper in Ragnar’s ear. “Not yet. I can’t-”

“For Pete’s sake, sonny,” Ragnar gently put a hand on Xander’s shoulder, “you can’t delay it any further. He has a right to know.”

“Know what?” Kiur demanded with an unusual ire in his words. The shadows under his eyes only grew more intense, with embers dancing around his left eye. “What are you not telling me?”

Xander gulped as Kiur closed the distance to him. “Ehm, you know, it’s-” Xander repositioned himself behind Tabira. “This isn’t the time. Let’s talk later, ok?”

“Talk when?”

“You know, right after—” Something interrupted Xander’s pathetic attempt at stalling.

A roar erupted from outside and shook through the ruins, breaking loose a facade.

Seconds later, a soldier barged in to report and shouted in a panicked voice, “IT’S BACK!”

Xander was never happier about an enemy attack. Giving him extra time conveying to Kiur that Cylia was dead.

—❂—

“How many times do we have to teach you this lesson, you damn OVERSIZED cat!?” Ragnar shouted and, upon leaving the ruins, threw his axe.

The Ugallu deflected it casually with its spear and roared once more.

“T-that’s an Ugallu!” Kiur, Tabira, and everyone else in their group gasped in shock and awe at the monster. Some even dropped to their knees and prayed on sight, balling their fists and lamenting.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO BRING A DAYBREAK DEMON HERE!?” Kiur exclaimed and held his head.

“NOT OUR FAULT IF IT WANTS TO PICK A FIGHT WITH US!” Ragnar exclaimed back.

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“YOU FOUGHT IT!?” Kiur’s shout overshadowed the group, and he walked up and down in a frantic panic. When he explained the situation to Tabira and the rest, they all shouted the same things Kiur did.

Or so Xander assumed by their exasperated and horrified tone.

“They don’t sound so enthusiastic,” commented Ragnar to Xander. He motioned to the Ugallu. “Same tactic as last time?”

“Hmph,” Xander huffed, flexing his arm. “You bet. That cat is getting on my nerves.”

“Woah, what do you plan on doing?” Kiur stood before them and stretched out his arms. “You can’t try to kill it!”

“Too late, we already did.”

“YOU DID WHAT!?” Kiur pulled on his hair on Xander’s statement.

Ragnar crossed his arms and laughed. “And won every damn time. How many times did we kill it by now?”

“Five times. Two for me, two for you, and Leif stole the last kill. Seriously, though, it came back twice yesterday. It doesn’t learn.”

“This isn’t good.” Kiur ruffled his hair in a frenzy. “Not good, not good, not good. Tabira, we have to get everyone inside!”

“Relax,” Xander laughed, “we’ll just kill it like we always did. It’s strong, but not that strong.”

“You don’t understand!” Kiur’s panic only grew. “If the Ugallu is here, then… then…”

Loud howls echoed throughout the vast desert plains and the dilapidated ruins of what they called their hideout. Uridimmu hounds appeared from the shadows of the dunes in the thousands or even more. It was hard to tell in the sea of snarling dogs with red fur.

Their numbers could easily overwhelm a small army. They were predators hunting for the weakest links in every caravan that dared to cross the desert. Yet they patiently waited close by the Ugallu for its command, snarling and licking their speckled teeth.

“Ah, he got even more of them.” Xander laughed with an edge to it. “We’ve dealt with them before. No problem; don’t worry.”

Kiur and the rest didn’t pay any attention to the crushing number of hellhounds—or Xander’s overconfidence.

“We aren’t worried about the hellhounds,” replied Kiur, his eyes fixed on the horizon, putting the other Reiszer on edge.

“Then what? Dude, you’re freaking us out—” Xander almost lost his tongue in his mouth. The pressure he felt nearly crushed his core.

Ragnar had his hand on his trusted sword, but even he was shaking from the shock rippling through the desert.

The Escapees were praying devoutly, holding their noses close to the ground and not moving as Tabira sang under her breath.

Kiur clenched his heart and dropped to his knees. Xander would have gone and asked what was wrong, but his knees collapsed as well. A shadow passed over their heads and whirled up the area as something landed behind the Ugallu.

Xander had read about dragons in his previous life, but since they were supposedly legends, he rarely cared about looking them up. “Big mistake,” he thought as he gawked at the imposing behemoth.

Its body was larger than a three-story temple with a wingspan that overshadowed the entire army of hellhounds. The fur of white and orange covered its enormous muscle-ridden body except for the scaly legs. Its sharp black tail whipped the air, breaking the sound like shattered glass while burying the man-sized white lion claws into the sand.

The dragon’s monstrous yet calm visage was a mixture of a lion and a snake. Two enormous blue horns of lapis lazuli protruded out of its head and two framed around its snout with a white flowing beard running down its chin.

It bared its red fangs once in a sigh, which was enough intimidation considering its body size. No one dared to look at its eyes or utter its name—except for Kiur, taking a page out of Cylia’s book to jinx things.

“It’s Usumgallu,” he stated, “the Great Dragon of the Desert and the Guardian of the Achernar.”

Everyone retreated a step back, afraid to get the dragon’s attention. However, Kiur’s and Xander’s feet remained glued in place.

“Come back inside,” Ragnar spoke against the wind, his hand dropping from his sword. “It’s not safe here anymore.”

Xander held a nervous grin on his face, unable to match his eyes. “Not like it’s safe anywhere else with that thing here now.” He looked over at Kiur. “Pray tell, how bad is it?”

“Very… bad.” Kiur clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to shake off his fear. “It’s a demon and the child of a Primordial God. You would need to be a literal god to stand a chance against it.”

“That doesn’t sound promising,” Xander chuckled, sweat dripping down his chin. “Godslayer would make for a nice epithet, though.”

“Don’t bet on that,” grumbled Kiur and knelt. “Don’t agitate it as you did with its sibling.”

“Sibling?” Xander shuddered and copied Kiur.

“The Ugallu is a servant and sibling to Usumgallu. Both are Daybreak Demons with moody temperaments. They either bless or curse you, kill or save you, liberate or conquer. You come to them for blessings, but leave when they are angry. They are as spiteful as they are benevolent… Say, did you really kill it?”

“Unfortunately,” replied Xander, avoiding making eye contact with the prying eyes of the demons. “They attacked us at the crevice when we looked for Cylia. Hell, it almost killed—”

“Ragnar.” Xander’s gaze flashed back, and he locked eyes with the Reiszer leader. “The demon always attacked him and the others, but not me. Is it targeting them specifically?”

The Ugallu’s roar and clanking of its spear against stone brought Xander out of his reverie. Thunder cracked above the colossal figure of the Usumgallu and surged through the air.

Sand particles rose, pebbles vaporized and stones zipped over their heads. The Ugallu approached them and flapped its wings, bringing its snout to their faces and baring its thunderous maw.

—❂—

Paralysed in place, Kiur and Xander stared into the stormy green eyes of the Ugallu.

The claws of its eagle feet imprinted themselves on the sand. It spread out its golden feathered wings before them, throwing the two of them back to their feet.

First, it regarded Xander, pushing its snout close to his face and snarling at him before glancing over to Kiur and hovering with its claws over his ear. Lightning coiled around them, dancing across Kiur's skin and numbing it.

It was too late for them to retreat to the others. The Ugallu leaned closer, pinching Kiur’s face with its claws and planting the other firmly behind Xander’s head, clutching his hair.

“33 days,” the Ugallu exhaled a warm and sharp breath at their necks. Xander was never so terrified of the Ugallu as at this moment. “תקופות Tekufah (Cycle), the Month of Tammuz is upon you. His death will cleanse the world anew and incinerate the miscreant. Leave while you can.”

The Ugallu threw them back to the others and roared. The Uridimmu hounds growled and sauntered closer.

“This is bad.” Ragnar motioned for the others to retreat slowly, but before he could draw his sword, the Ugallu flashed before him. The demon towered over the already tall Reiszer, knowing he stood no chance against the daybreak demon.

Maybe they had killed it more than what would be possible, but he knew the Ugallu now vastly outmatched him.

“Descendant of the old miscreants,” the Ugallu growled at Ragnar. “You and your people have trespassed into the old land, pillaged the temples and misplaced the gods’ people. Your daughter will live but bear her father’s and her people’s sins on her shoulders.”

The Ugallu disappeared in a flash of green lightning and reappeared before Kiur and Xander.

“Don’t count on the gods’ protection. It will carry you only so far. Let go of your pride. Let go of your anger. Before the judgement—cast your fate—or face consequences worse than death could ever bring.”

Flapping with its golden wings, the Ugallu lifted off the ground and returned to the Uridimmu hounds and Usumgallu. The dragon lifted himself up from its resting position. His white mane danced from the abrupt movement and levelled with his massive limbs over the dunes, burying half of the hounds.

A roar more akin to a cat’s yawn escaped its gentler features, sending out a ripple of blue waves brushing over everyone’s bodies.

“Leave to the End of the River.” His booming voice could be heard throughout the entire desert. They covered their ears before they popped. “Tammuz is descending to the Great Earth Mother, taking with him life itself. Leave and find shelter; escape’s drawing nigh. The enemies are descending. Be swift or fall behind the enveloping sun.”

Extending its large wings over the fields of sand-dried rivers, Usumgallu flapped them once and was off in the sky. Flapping them again, he conjured a sandstorm on his way east. The monsters retreated with him. Leaving the group stunned and shaking.

“Alright, new plan.” They turned to Tabira. She held her hands before her face and exhaled deeply, trying to regain her composure. “Animosities be damned. We get the hell out. Who’s with me?”

She raised a hand, and without even Kiur translating for her, the Reiszer picked up on the notion and raised their hands alongside the Escapees.

Tabira glanced towards Ragnar. “No time to get a new table for discussions. What do you say? We have a deal?”

Still stunned by the monsters’ sudden appearance and subsequent departure, Ragnar needed a moment to collect himself before he wore a half-confident grin on his lips.

“No rest for the wicked, eh? Yes, let’s begin the preparations before those things come back and decide to kill us.”

Their agenda was clear—even more so after Usumgallu and Ugallu appeared with the hounds.

They had to leave the desert at whatever cost possible, work together as a group and forgo anything they held against each other if they held their life dear.

33 Days—that’s how much time they had left before the coming solstice—precisely as much as the Ugallu had warned them about.

There was no room for bickering. They needed to make plans to escape the desert. One month was stretching it too much already.

“What routes should we use to escape?” Ragnar asked, pacing around the bustling infirmary as Reiszer and Escapees worked together.

“East, always east,” Tabira replied, standing up with some trouble and Ninda’s help. She was doing her rounds for the poisoned as much as she could. “We have to reach the Achernar.”

“Isn’t that where the dragon flew?”

“Yap.” Tabira smacked her dry lips. “Not like we can’t change anything about it-”

“I know that, but damn it, we can’t go east. My people—”

“I am aware!” Tabira snapped at him and turned around on her heel. “If you have a better idea, pray tell me, but we won’t go back west or anywhere else!” stomping with her food, Tabira threw a sweat-drenched towel at Ragnar’s face. “We will figure out the logistics afterwards. First, we’ll take the fastest route east we can find. We are literally running out of time!”

A day and a half have passed. Preparations were reaching its end.

They drafted routes from their knowledge of the desert peregrination. Escapees built wagons via Earth Magic. Reiszer provided the horses and helped secure the areas they needed to travel with.

There was too much to do, and Kiur was always in the middle to translate or lead the talks or smoothen things over before they escalated over something minor.

Despite their plans for cooperation, it didn’t mean they got along perfectly.

Kiur was tiring himself out to translate and smooth over incidents. He ate and slept less and less with each passing day. His body and mind were reaching their limits, but there was one last thing left to do.

Something personal.

“Seriously, buddy, you need to lie down,” Xander tried to talk Kiur down, but it didn’t work. He had failed to find Cylia. Kiur coped with it by working himself rugged, so he didn’t have to think. “Get some sleep or something.”

“I can sleep when I am dead.” Kiur’s morbid reply made Xander flinch. “I have to do that. We are departing soon. I need to convince the rest of us to come with me.”

“Why can’t you think rationally?” begged Xander, trying desperately to make amends for his mistake. “They’ve made up their mind to follow a hard-headed and spitefully old dwarf. It’s not your issue—”

“IT IS MY ISSUE!” Kiur shouted, startling the horse and cracking up the ground with his flared-up magic. Someone stepped on a crack and you could hear someone in the distance shout in pain. “I did something terrible to ensure we get this far. If I can’t convince them to come with us before the solstice… I’ll never be able to forgive myself.”

Xander gritted his teeth. He was angry and ashamed of himself. Cylia was gone. It had been his behaviour that probably caused all this. He didn’t know how to make things right.

“I also have amends to make,” Xander exhaled, dropping his gaze. “Cylia isn’t so fragile to die out there. As I promised, I will find her before we leave. Please believe me.”

“...” Kiur nodded meekly. His hands were shaking, his blood was running cold. He was so close to going over the edge. One push would be enough to make him crumble, but he had to hold on. He had to. “I’ll see around.”

This is all that Kiur had to say. He was about to mount the horse before Xander’s hand stopped on Kiur’s shoulder, turning him around.

“Listen, I promise you, I’ll find Cylia and not disappoint you. Everything will work out, I swear!”

Kiur dipped his head and hovered with his shaking hand over Xander’s. Eventually, he placed it down on his and Xander flinched as the cold seeped into his glove.

Even for an ice wizard, this cold was not comfortable. It was dreadful and siphoning the life out of Xander. He forced himself to endure it and not show on his expression how much it tortured him.

“I appreciate it, I do… thank you…” Kiur brushed off Xander’s hand and mounted the horse, departing back to the hideout and past the cloud of foreboding danger closing in on them.