The sun warms me as I glide on the thermals rising from the mountainside, the black splash of basalt marking my first Master’s domain, his location not in doubt, summoning Questors to him, challenging them to succeed. I ponder upon their success or failure as a Quest suggests a purpose or at least a prize does it not? The consequence of their failure is obvious, mostly like death, hopefully, survival to learn and improve. To try again or teach others? The consequence of their success … troubling. Does it mean his demise? Is his destruction their prize? If so, with his destruction what becomes of me?
Guilt and a pool of goodness within my being push me to make amends. Repair and revival are impossible, the dead are now dead, their bodies decayed and returned to the soil, and I know their spirits have been polished and recycled by the land. They will age no more, never to remember their past, their loved ones, their good deeds their bad deeds, only remembered by their family and friends if at all. As Arnora must remember her husband Valgard, slain by the Griffon within me. I regret it now of course, yet I can’t change the past. I must learn from it though. I promise myself I will.
The passing wind dries my tears now, their flow slowing as I realise, inside, I am still more beast than human and yet my time in this form and the emotions and feelings experienced while amongst the Frost and Stone Giants should have rewarded me. Perhaps this is a punishment, due to my alignment with Zeus instead of Azizos, my escape from his connection I thought a celebration, instead my Sentient Dominate form stunted, exiled from growth. This is Zeus’ game though … I dismiss my futile musings, I must return to my concerns, my worries. Self-centred and selfish is the beast within me, I accept my condition of existence. If more human I would tend to others less fortunate, tend to those with wounds and in pain, console those of their loss, and listen to and support them. Be humane. I need to believe I am sometimes some of those things as I continue to reach higher, and make progress in my quest to complete my humanity.
Instinctively I approach the Beast kin town with the sun behind me, I don’t wish to shock or cause panic with my appearance. Inwardly I laugh at myself, the first joy of this flight and the source is my folly and stupidity. My beast form calls forth [Invisibility] and while not trusting my entire safety to this spell; I glide over the Town on the edge of bow range, my [Far Sight] provides accurate details of my destination and place of penance.
“I don’t like what your Priestess has done to me!”
Her voice screams into my mind disturbing my flight, instinct correcting the aberration and avoiding the alternative of a crash landing. Alba.
“Why have you been silent for so long?”
I throw the question to her as a distraction, while I continue to survey below me. Few midday fires, so few alive cooking and eating. Each of the beast kin keeps to their quarter, although one near the grassed Amphitheatre seems shared as a small market with different Beast kin buyers and sellers haggle and barter, few trusting or utilising coins. The Badger Beast kin, though short, appear to be in the majority, if pure numbers count. I remember the one, always preening and cleaning, thinking it a quirk of hers, perhaps personal hygiene is a racial habit and responsible for their survival despite my Harpy pollution.
“I have been trying to accept my fate if you must know.”
Perhaps Giant Gar to sentient Spirit to bound Spirit is a transformation path worthy of thought, consideration and acceptance, although what would be the alternative? I accept evolving, I must, I need to complete Zeus’ game and there is no alternative for me if I wish to free my Creator and similarly no alternative for Alba if she wishes to continue to exist with her memories and possibly find another form.
“Have you?” I can’t help asking the obvious question.
The wells have been covered or the round stone walls marking them kicked in, ah and I see a clear path to the river and at least two wagons hauling huge clay jugs. I wing towards the river curious, there is a hint of change there and I decide to explore.
“Yes, I contemplated my fate and thought a Temple Bound Spirit, able to manifest would be … better. I am not so sure now.”
“How clever of you, and just a …” I left the last words deliberately unsaid, wondering if she would …
“You can say it you know, well just say it!”
“I wouldn’t want to offend, which is why I hesitated as I know even a Spirit has feelings. I am correct, aren’t I?”
“Of course, I have feelings! What made you think I didn’t … we are back to that again, aren’t we! Well say what you mean, I need to know what you think of me, say it, you, you feather brain!”
“You called me a name. I am not sure I can recover from such a spurious hurtful wound. I will need some time …”
“Piffle, you forget I am bound to a ring, which is tightly fit to your flesh, and I know you are, let us agree on a word, exaggerating, shall we.”
I doubt she knows, perhaps senses or plain guesses.
“Well, you can’t blame me for my doubts, ravenous cold-hearted giant fish, razor-sharp teeth slicing the flesh off any prey, going from kill to kill. Thinking? Feelings? Difficult to believe really.”
It appears our sensing of each other goes two ways. Her temperament is lost as she boils with indignation and insult building into a crescendo of vitriol and before she does, I follow up with another comment, it is the least I can do.
“I apologise, I do forget you were an Elder Giant Gar and so blessed with the wisdom your age grants.”
She still wishes to unleash her retorts upon me. She dithers, caught between two positions I reckon. Unleash and prove herself to be primitive or acquiesce and prove her wisdom against unspeakable taunting.
A dock now extends into the river, with several small boats tied and secured. There is a smattering of shacks forming a half-circle, hasty, nasty looking hovels, little skill utilised, perhaps to guarantee a hurried claim of some sort. Lizard Beast kin seem to be in charge along the riverbank. I wing my way back to the Amphitheatre.
“With my abundant wisdom I deduce you were toying with me and for such disrespect, I should grind you between my jaws!”
“As a ring, I don’t comprehend how, although I spot a couple of fish in the river and if I perhaps throw this ring you inhabit, down their throats, you may be able to possess one and have teeth again to try.”
“No, you wouldn’t, you promised me a body as an Initiate of Zeus when my Priestess, not a fish, which is prey for others, a Giant Fish or Frost Giant, you promised.”
“While I admit to a small amount of teasing, I didn’t expect threats from an Elder Giant Gar Spirit, I expected witty repartee and the parry and thrust of words testing our intellects, you disappoint. Perhaps I should hang your ring in a tree below and let whimsy decide your fate, after all, I didn’t promise a time or date to secure you a body ...”
“No, I promise to be good company, my wisdom is your wisdom … I have spells … the Priestess taught them to me …”
“So, your true deception is revealed. When were you going to tell me … about your spells?”
Our uneasy partnership about sundered, a secret held and therefore I would never be able to factor her assistance into any future planning or desperate escape. Fury burns within me because I cannot allow myself to die, ever, not only the shame of facing my Creator but also the threat that Azizos will claim me forever. I imagine her ring crushed and bent and thrown in the river, reaching for it with my other hand, turning mid-flight to return to the river to do exactly that.
“Nnoooo …” Her panicking wail assaults me.
“I will serve you, no secrets, I offer the names my spells to you [Mindspeech], [Beauty], [Selfdoubt], [Spell Teaching] and [Spirit Binding] and you may freely call upon my magic when required. Please, don’t discard me, I will be loyal, and I know when suitable and within your power, you will grant me a body. I will wait, without dissent until you determine the moment right.”
I don’t reply and instead bank away from the river, pumping my wings for height and with the Amphitheatre in view, I glide onto the structure’s rear grassy slope. I cautiously walk to its crest, blatantly aware of the bent blades of grass my paws leave in their wake. Below me, blocks of stone hold back the soil and grass forming tall steps and at the same time wide benches which slope down to a common centre. The focus point is a slightly raised pedestal or dais, where one can address many.
Beyond the Amphitheatre and to the left, the Market, still bustling with buyers and sellers. Beyond the Market the abandoned cottages and business of an unoccupied Beast kin quarter. Beyond the far-left edge of the Amphitheatre and Beast kin quarter stands an altar, not Godly although revered by those few tending to it and those fewer still who pass by. The Altar marks the beginning of a road, the stone surface suggesting permanence and longevity. The direction it takes leads unerringly towards the Quest Dungeon of Azizos.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
The puzzle pieces join for me in that moment of enlightenment. I knew the pieces as Harpy and couldn’t connect them to form a single picture, now as Lamassu I can. Each Beast kin is restricted to their quarter, except for important announcements when they gather at the Amphitheatre. The purpose of the Town is to explore and possibly defeat the Quest Dungeon, the beacon a rallying point at least, perhaps more as Beast kin tend to it, maintain it and pay homage. At least one Beast kin sub-race is no longer kindred; exiled, vanquished or perished by other means.
“High Priestess?”
I ignore her pleading for now as I try to confirm a suspicion.
The cat Beast kin I know best, my torso’s fur stands on its ends at my recollection. The feeling of a familiar, kindred spirit perhaps. The manes of the males I observe are placeholders only of future years, they are youths, barely beyond cubs weaned from their mother’s teats. Why am I struck so? A hollowness engulfs my heart in response to my conjecture and thoughts concerning the Beast kin youth, a sickeningly familiar feeling I pass quickly to ensure my self-preservation as no amount of analysis has yet provided me with an answer why that single word pains me.
The greying fur of some Badger Beast kin the single sign of maturity of any within or nearby the Market as best I can tell.
My original plan involved subtly, perhaps a rescue and then a demonstration of Zeus’ power, like the Frost Giants' recruitment in many ways. Now though, perhaps a grand display of power and miracles to impress the young, excessive flash and theatrics and no time for them to consider or think. Zeus’ presence on my right shoulder, Alba’s magic available on my left-hand finger and [Sanctify Area] to exploit both.
I will need time to funnel every point of magic through the [Sanctify Area] Ceremony and ideally remain invisible to greatly aid the endeavour. I could [Teleport] and go [Invisible] again at the first sign of trouble, although I suspect I will need to fly away as the Cat Beast kin, if not the Dog Beast kin will soon detect and track my scent.
Then a fatal flaw dawns upon me, squatting near the Market, Cat, Dog or possibly Snake Beast kin will detect my presence, either scent or taste long before I complete the [Sanctify Area] Ceremony.
“Am I permitted to talk High Priestess?”
“You have, twice now, regardless of my will,” I reply, imagining annoyance at her interruption.
“Perhaps if you discuss your dilemma with another … a school of Giant Gar would always achieve more, bring down greater prey than a single Giant Gar, even if an Elder, High Priestess.”
I needed to control and reign in my emotions; while wearing the ring Alba can intimately sense extremes, such as the frustration I have with my plan.
“High Priestess?”
“Well, if you must know, I plan to unleash the [Sanctify Area] Ceremony upon the Market, thereby converting as many Beast kin from as many Beast kin sub-races to the enlightenment and worship of Zeus. I am sure some will resist, it is the nature of things that some die from disease while others survive it. Most though will not and if I supply enough magic, including yours the area sanctified will be increased and so will the number of conversions.”
“A masterful plan High Priestess, I am honoured to be in your service and worship …”
“No need to placate me, Alba, just listen a few moments more. They are Beast kin, and several will detect me, by smell or taste even if invisible, so my time will be little or none, the Ceremony ended before it starts. All for nothing and perhaps not even escape. A worthless …”
“Enough High Priestess.” Both of us ‘blink’ in reaction to her mental shouting. “Sorry High Priestess, your plan is sound, the outcome magnificent, we just need to allow you the time to perform and complete the Ceremony.”
“What could it be?” a voice behind me, light and young, asks.
“It looks like a predator cat stalked up to the lip of the Amphitheatre, laid in the grass and looked down,” utters another in response, voice slightly more mature.
“The strange scent hangs heavy in the air still, it hasn’t left as no tracks lead away, yet I see nothing before us.”
“Wait, see the grass, there where the stomach would be, the grass moves back and forth, in rhythm as if the cat lies in wait and is breathing.” The excitement in his voice is soon infectious.
“Yes, yes, I see, amazing. What … does this mean? Has it heard us talking?” The light voice rises in pitch.
I hear a spear being unsheathed. Glancing to the far right of the Amphitheatre, I [Teleport].
A yell of courage issues from the left-hand side rim of the Amphitheatre attracting the attention of those in the Market. Multiple Beast kin secure weapons and sprint up the left arm of the Amphitheatre, it seems the right arm is too far away from the action.
“Perhaps we should do our thinking elsewhere High Priestess.”
While furious at the obviousness of the statement, I can’t deny the absolute truth of it. Keeping my reply to myself I push off with my hind legs and flap my wings to lift into flight. As I bank away in the direction of the river several Panther Beast kin have overrun my second position, only to halt, sniffing and placing their hand paws in the grass depression and probably the scarred grass where my hind legs propelled me skywards. I believe stealth and surprise are conditions that no longer apply to me. From on high many now gathered at both sites, so many in fact some tumble forward over the edge of the Amphitheatre. I don’t stay to determine if they live or die, gaining altitude and speed to fly across the river and hopefully to the sanctuary of an old campsite.
“How did you become aware of their interest?”
Some moments of silence pass and I prepare myself to listen to another of her secrets and hold my reaction in check.
“With effort High Priestess I am capable of borrowing, or more accurately sharing one of your senses …”
I clench and unclench my hands mid-flight before answering, convincing myself to remain calm.
“Of the five senses, how did you know to choose to hear, my loyal Initiate?” My thoughts honey sweet.
“I didn’t High Priestess, I cycle through them, testing my skill, improving my ability and I stopped at hearing when I heard the creatures speak.” Her thoughts are so matter of fact and happy when reporting to me, that I repress my true feelings for the moment.
“Good to know, why don’t I sense your sharing Initiate?”
A mental giggle from her. “I wouldn’t want to distract you High Priestess with my sharing, that would’ve been annoying so I practised first with touch, with the air buffeting you during your flight, one more touch while I practised surely wouldn’t be noticed I thought. Therefore, perfect High Priestess and easy to translate to your other senses.” The triumph in her thoughts turns my stomach, although her consideration and logic sound enough and therefore my desire for payback or revenge dilutes rapidly.
“Yes, perfect, Initiate.” My sole response as I flew on, until locating a specific camping location by the shore of the river and gliding to land. Remembering my Harpy self and my daughters.
Excitedly I don’t glide to land at the camping site. Instead, I fly with speed, following the river to a meeting place, a special meeting place. Middle of the afternoon, I glide to land, and I need to perform a test.
I prepare myself this time for a specific word. “First, your Mother summons you to the river.” I swallow the discomfort.
“Who is First?”
“How is it you can hear my thoughts?”
“I am uncertain High Priestess, the Priestess Arnora hinted to me, when she bound me to the ring, Zeus blessed its purpose, but didn’t explain.”
“She achieved a lot in a short while, so I intended to leave left her little time to prepare. Perhaps I underestimated her skill and talent.”
Giggling invades my thoughts yet again. “The Priestess didn’t prepare the ring for you High Priestess. The ring’s original purpose was a promise, a binding marital promise of her loyalty and love for Valmund if he would give up Grimhild. When he didn’t and her son provided sound reasons why not she possessed a gift with no one to give it to. The only quick thing the Priestess performed was to bind me to the ring, perhaps with Zeus’ blessing and instruct me how to attune the two bound Magic Spirits embedded in the ring’s jewels. I then quickly defeated the Spell Spirits she sent me to learn my Spells.”
“These bound Magic Spirits, would I be able to attune them?”
“Oh yes High Priestess, I can instruct you, they are yours the Priestess’ clear intent in fact.”
I dismiss the inconsistency of no more secrets and yet another secret or perhaps omission, yes, I will go with omission, easier to cope with. She is a simple fish after all.
“First, your Mother summons you to the river.”
“Who is First?”
“Quiet,” I reply in harsh haste.
“First, your Mother summons you to the river.”
“Mother! I am overjoyed! I am leaving this instant!”
“First, be prepared, my appearance has changed, and I come begging a favour and any weapons you can lend me.”
“I am prepared Mother, I witnessed your change to Harpy from the hairless, wingless one, weapons we have aplenty and the favours I owe you endless. Joy, of joys Mother, I fly fast to meet you!” Intense feelings reinforce the words, true joy and overwhelming love pervasive, a child eager to return to its mother. Unconditional love, the truest, the strongest. Somehow with First, the word didn’t hurt now, her acknowledgement confirming her existence removing the void, perhaps the symbolic mother and child reunion, the promise of meeting not a hope but a reality. Different to the other hurt, the other hollowness, the mother knowing her child existed, not knowing who or where, if they were alive or dead, vulnerable or safe. A mother unable to be certain about her child, unable to remember and therefore recognise her child, they could pass each other as total strangers, the disconnect ultimately creating the void she felt, the hurt. The arm you feel even if no longer there, any itch impossible to scratch.
“High Priestess you will find your child again, we Gar breed thousands, few survive and even when gone for many seasons we recognise them instinctively upon their return. A mother always knows. You will know, never doubt this truism.”
Silly fish. I cling to her words nevertheless as they offer hope where none existed before. I need to dry my eyes the breeze cools my skin where their tracks run. Many have escaped my eyes it seems.
---
“Mother I see you, the sinking sun silhouettes you majestically. You have hair! Your magnificent, feathered wings! And I understand now what eating many Cat Beast kin has resulted in!”
Her excitement infectious, I run on all four paws along the shore giddy and then remember to stroke my wings for lift holding to a direct line of sight in flight, the target my wonderous creation. We meet in a loving mother and daughter embrace, my wings holding us aloft her trust in me complete.
Upon landing, we recall our missing days and nights apart. The male Karpys thought they had the right to breed with lesser creatures, disgusting, apparently. First, Bucket One and Bucket Two soon put that notion to rights and they all await their first clutch of eggs to hatch. The male Karpys are now desirable, they are smarter and stronger. First shows a brief cheeky smile when she comments on them, and I am glad. While First eats her meat raw, I must first cook mine. She laughs loudly knowing my former Harpy self, shaking her head when she eyes me eating my blackened meat. I am changed and yet she accepts me, unconditionally and my heart warms unconditionally.
Late in the night, before sleep takes us First states Bucket One and Bucket Two will meet us in the morning.
“Who are Bucket One and Bucket Two and you are still to explain First High Priestess and what happened before?”
I smile to myself, good to know Alba can’t search my memories, we aren’t that close yet.