Recap: After their shipwreck and eventual laborious and danger-frought climb up a steep cliff, Rigel and Faeve pass out due to to fatigue. Before that however, Rigel notices what lay ahead of them and is terrified.
Chapter 23: Surviving Sandstorms
“Oh, how must the fates laugh”
-Inscription on the Sourvgh Tablet, recovered 5569 A.C., site of the First City Kahrn.
Someone once told me that our mind was like a bucket with a hole. Strange, how we lose the memories of our childhood as we grow older. I don’t really remember much of my earliest school. But for some reason, I remember two things. The old Kurada-sensei and the swing-set in the little playground.
Being the only non-Japanese kid in class wasn’t easy. Schoolchildren are some of the cruelest creatures, a belief I still keep even after coming to this world. I used to get picked on a lot and they wouldn’t even let me play with them. Whenever I sat crying, Kurada-sensei would come over and pat my head and in his heavily accented English would try to talk to me. “Rigeru-kun, life is like a mountain. When you climb up, you can look down and be happy to see the distance you have crossed. So work hard, and don’t fret”, he would say in his quaking voice.
I have forgotten most things from my childhood, but for some reason, his words stuck with me. There was something incomparably sad about Kurada-sensei. Whether it was the fact that he lost his grandkids in an earthquake, or whether his frail, sickly form, I could never tell.
Today, after so long, I remembered Kurada-sensei, with his bug-eyed glasses and white, wispy hair. I knew why. A deep sigh escaped me as I prepared to face reality. Denial never really works, does it? “Kurada-sensei, you were wrong”, I muttered as I looked down. “The view from this mountain is fucking depressing”.
Faeve stared slack-jawed, much like me. The situation was worse than she had expected. Much worse. Catastrophic, in fact.
“So…” my own voice sounded tired to me.
Faeve’s mumbles didn’t make any sound. Her face was flushed red from the heat, sweat trickled down her brow.
Her head snapped towards me, “We are out of luck, humankin”.
So we are. “How do we get down?” I grated.
“I don’t know”, She mumbled, “I have never crossed Arhan Canyon”.
The wind picked up again. Below us, steep limestone cliffs extended far into the opposite horizons. Innumerable little canyons formed a maze, their ochre and orange surfaces steaming in the sun. The long rock formations twisted and turned like rivers, only bone dry. Small dust bowls sprang up everywhere as we stared, dissipating almost immediately as they had appeared.
Small hills, larger than the others broke through the surface in irregular formations, like some giant whales had breached the ocean surface, and rested under the sun. As wind howled through the canyon, shrill whistles spread through the air. We kept watching as the sound reached a crescendo.
“Cries of the fallen”, Faeve sputtered, “they are called”.
The shrill cries were almost unbearable now. Faeve mused in a sad voice, as if lost, “The holes in the rocks”. She pointed ad oddly shaped spires rising from the arid, yellowish landscape. “Those have countless little holes. The wind cries like this went it blows through”.
As if in confirmation, the sounds died down as the wind stilled. But they didn’t stop. The whistles bounded between the canyons, as if searching for something it had lost. The air shimmered above the rocks while they gave off heat borne of the sun.
“Fuck”, I cursed loudly.
“Indeed”, Faeve agrred.
We had both passed out cold last night after the climb. When I had woken up, I saw Faeve stare at the canyon, her eyes wide. I already knew what lay there, having seen it the ight before. But with all my might I had prayed what I saw was a trick of moonlight and shadows. But it wasn’t meant to be.
“Any plans?” I asked Faeve, “we need to go down somehow”.
Her brow scrunched up, deep in thought. But it wasn’t necessary to ask her. I too saw the sheer drop from the cliff we were standing in. The other side was a steep surface, culminating in a few sparse vegetation at the foot of the cliff. My head swam as I gazed downwards; small rocks and boulders lay strewn at the foot. And beyond that, the wasteland.
How the fuck do we climb down this?
“Can you grow wings?” I asked Faeve. Can’t hurt to ask, can it?
She stared at me like I wanted her kidneys. Both of them. I splayed my hands. Come on! Can’t a chap make a joke around here?
Faeve stood up from her kneeling position. The leather gear groaned a soft murmur of protest. Wind whipped at her sun-kissed hair. A deep sigh escaped her lips while she crossed her arms over her chest. “In case you haven’t noticed, I can not use Beastmeld magic. So, no wings”.
Woah, she answered that seriously.
A faint irritation creeped into my mind. Hers? Probably. I was feeling something else. I was fucking pissed. What the hell was this Elf thinking? We climbed up without a plan and now what?
“Not like anything has gone according to plans. Nothing”, Faeve snapped back, “None of these were in my plans”. Her barely contained anger boiled over like a kettle. I stared at her quavering face. It was strange, really. Lately, I have been able to tell apart the different shades in her emotions. Earlier, all I could feel was a mass of resentment from her, but now…
She whipped her face away from me, breaking the eye contact. My stomach dropped while waves of emptiness gnawed at my insides. Who has changed? Is it her? Or me? She dragged her feet as she played with the leather buckles of her dagger holsters.
Her voice was hollow when she spoke, “I do not know, Eridan. I do not know”. Silence stretched between us again as we stared at the landscape before us. We kept searching for a way to get down, a crevice, a ledge...anything. Meanwhile, the sun beat down mercilessly on the canyon without a river. The wind picked up suddenly, bellowing up the cliff we were standing on.
“Fuck”, I cursed loudly as red sand whipped at our faces. I blinked to get the dust out of my eyes. The canyon was rife with mini dust storms, born of an arid landscape and twisting windways. I sat up with my back to the howling winds. A beat later, Faeve followed suit, keeping her eyelids shut. The sands stung our skin where it was exposed, little pinpricks erupting on our bodies. Guess it’s better than going into our eyes.
“Those sandstorms”, Faeve said with jaws clenched so as not to let the sands in, “strip one of their skin and flesh, till only the bones are left. Many a life has been—”. She coughed out some of the sand that had creeped inside her mouth, “lost trapped into the sandstorms of Arhan Canyon”.
“People cross this?” I asked.
“There are desert-dwelling tribes in some parts. But more important than that—” Faeve rubbed her neck, “this is a site of pilgrimage for a lot of people”. She lay flat on the ground as the winds got even wilder. The winds on top of a cliff were always strong, but this particular one had a characteristic of sending the winds barreling upwards, hitting us like a gale. She gestured me to get down as well.
What is she— The wind hit me full on the face. Sand barreled into my mouth in a torrent. I fell on my knees coughing, the sand threatening to go further into my windpipe with every wheezing breath I took. I held my head down and rode out the ordeal. I spat out mouthfuls of sand-mixed saliva. As my body wracked with spasms, I lay myself flat on the ground.
We lay on our stomachs as the winds danced over us with red sands. In a few moments, the sky was dyed crimson. Sunlight grew dim under the blanket of whirling sand, shadows cast through a red veil. The storm beat us with its thousand earthen fangs. The only reason we were safe was because we were near the edge, most of the gale blew overhead. A pained whimper brought me back to my senses. Faeve lay on the ground in a fetal curl, shivering. Lines of red crisscrossed her skin.
Oh shit.
I was spared the full brunt of it due to my armour. Faeve had lost hers, so the sands assaulted her thin vest. Moreover, both our clothes had grown ragged from the torture we put ourselves through. The sand opened lines of blood across her limbs and nape, making her whimper every time as they bit into her. I dragged myself near her, battling against the blinding sands. She stiffened as I pressed up against her.
I can’t take off my armour, so…
Her body looked so little, so frail as she tried to guard against all that assailed her. I embraced her awkwardly, putting her trembling hands inside the gap between our bodies. Faeve resisted, trying to break away. I hissed at her loudly, above the sounds of the storm. She stiffened for a moment and then relented, cuddling up close to me. Our faces were mere centimeters from each other. Our breaths mingled, Faeve’s warmth pressing up against my body. The storm raged with rustlings of a thousand snakes.
For some odd reason, I could hear her heartbeats. They wound up like clockwork, tensed. Even her breaths fell in ragged gasps. Numbing warmth was filling my veins as her thoughts flowed into me.
“Faeve”, I spat. Stop this—
She interrupted me, “I know. I hate you enough. But this connection…gods, it is difficult”. The winds drowned us again, both our voices, and our thoughts.
The storm raged on for a while. Lying so close to each other was…tough. I mean, she was a very attractive woman no doubt. Being in close proximity didn’t help either. She was—
Faeve trembled as my thoughts sidled into her brain. An image flashed into my mind. A face. Distorted by lust and all that was ugly within. A room, dark and damp where a beast loomed over me. It would strip away all that I was, all that I—NO! NO! NO!
Faeve’s whimper brought me back to reality. My fingers felt strangely warm. Bright red blood spotted my nails. In midst of my daydream I had dug hard in Faeve’s arm. Daydream? I looked at Faeve. Her forest green eyes stared back at me unblinking. That’s…that was me, wasn’t it? The beast. Is that how she saw me that night in the ship? A hot lump lodged was lodged in my throat.
All the same, I held her closer. After all, this was the least I could do. Yes,after what I did— I knew. I knew some of this was the connection that wanted me to protect her. But…how much of it was the connection? I had started to doubt for a while. Where is the line, what is the tree making us feel and what…what are my own?
“Misplaced”, Faeve coughed. “I can offer you none”.
My eyebrows scrunched up. Hmm? What is she—
“Redemption”. She dug her face in to avoid the stray sands, “there isn’t any. For both of us”.
A harsh laugh echoed in my mind. It increased in volume till it echoed off the insides of my skull. A whimper escaped me. Or…was it Faeve? I didn’t know…What, why… The laughter was joined by a few others. Young. Old. Male. Female. All of them laughed, their shrill voices giving away to sobs. Who…was it me? Faeve…tears rolled down her cheeks as her little body trembled. I screamed in Faeve’s voice as the souls, the voices inside me grated my mind. They chanted something indistinct. I knew. I knew it was something horrific, like a curse.
“Redemption. Redemption. Redemption”, their chants grew clearer as bile ran up my throat….No, no…
Faeve slapped me. The hit was hard enough to make my cheek flare up in pain.
“Get a hold of yourself!” she screamed. “Don’t go insane, you piece of shit”.
“I need Khaginar Wine”, I groaned into the sand. My breaths sent little specks flying. “You hit hard, woman”.
There was a tense silence. The sands twisted above us like a stream of red locusts, swerving, turning upon itself like a living swarm. All at once, the wind died. The sand fell upon us like rain. Damn this hurts! We lay flat as the sands assaulted our bodies in an unceasing rain. Faeve’s grip on my arms tightened. When had she—?
“Like you said, humakin”. She whispered in a tight voice, “Pain and hatred is the only thing we can offer each other”.
When we got up, we had a few inches of sand smothering us. The sands fell away in a rustle as I stood—dammit! Some of them went into my clothes. Faeve brushed off the sand as she watched me do an awkward dance to get rid of the sands that had gone inside my shirt.
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“What are you looking at?” I grumbled.
“Watching you do a tribal dance”, Her lips gave way to a tight grin, “you got some sands in your underwear, didn’t you?”
“Fuck you”.
Below us, the canyon was still rife with sandstorms. Parts of it were still under crimson dust clouds. I spat out some sand that that got into my mouth, the spit came out reddish. And above all that, now that the hellish storm above us had abated, rose the piercing cry of the whistles.
“They say the sands are red because they drank blood”, Faeve whispered while brushing off the remnants of the sand. The rustle of the falling sands stopped for a moment as she squinted into the distance. “The blood of the fallen”.
I kneeled down and took off my leather boots. The familiar brown shoe came off with a tired squeak. I upturned the left one. How the hell? Red sand, more in volume than my entire foot came pouring out. I gave them a good shake to remain any last vestiges. The right one however…it had visibly torn a lot. It was always the case even back on earth, someone had said because my right feet were a bit bigger than the left one. The soft leather had parted in places, revealing the white layer underneath. I watched as the sand trickled out to form a small mound on the cliff. I could sense Faeve’s eyes behind me, watching.
“The leather from the Spire-Master in Salrest”, I sighed, “took me a lot of tries to get this much. Fucking carcass vanished quick”.
She said nothing, choosing to look at the cliff we were standing on instead. The cliff we stood on had to be at least five hundred meters across, and stretched far into the distance. Though the edges looked roughed from the beach, the top was pretty smooth. The regular sandstorm must have shorn away the top to make it somewhat smooth. Standing on top of it made me realize for the first time what Faeve had meant. This was a wall. A titanic one at that. Whatever the wall had wanted to keep out must have been…enormous. Come to think of it—
I looked at Faeve’s sand-caked figure standing with her arms on her chest. I snapped my fingers, “Oi Sand-Elf”
Faeve tore her head away from her musing and faced me. Looks like she didn’t realize what I called her.
“I did”, She grated. “What is it?”
“What fought here?” I sputtered while I put on my boots. I need a new pair, and soon. “I mean, you keep saying ‘fallen’, right?”
She looked at me as if I was something unbelievable. Her eyebrows scrunched up, she shook her head in a dismissive gesture. “Have I told you that your ignorance is stupefying?”.
“Only a few thousand times”.
Faeve snorted in barely contained disdain. “Remember. Third Landing. Metal Puppets”.
I nodded my head at her. The sand deposited by the storm had started to heat up. By now, the sky had cleared of any storms and the sun beat down on us in its full glory. I snapped my fingers as things clicked.
“The lost generation? The betrayers?” my voice sounded scratchy. My parched throat had choked up from all the talking.
“Aye”, Faeve confirmed. “A combined army of Moon Elves, Humans and beastkins”. She traced the pattern on her dagger-hilt as the whistles from the valley tore through the cliff-top. “This is where they fought the metal puppets”. She winced as the whistles grew sharper. “And died. All of them”.
I jumped to my feet as the sand beneath my outstretched legs had grown too hot. My knees creaked like an old man’s. Not surprising, considering how much I abused my own body. Ugh, I did an awkward crab-like side-step again. Bloody sands! No matter how much I struggled, the sands inside my clothes wouldn’t go away.
The whistles now cried in a fitful, quavering song as the gale blew in frantic bursts. The mournful tune was gradually overpowering the roar of the storm.
“They say you can still find old bones and armour in caverns and crevices in the canyon”. Her forlorn voice drifted atop the cliff, mingling with the other desolate tone in the canyon, the whistle. I stretched my limbs, making the joints pop in a relaxed habit.
“So, the pilgrimage you mentioned…” I trailed off as I saw Faeve nod. Beads of sweat were forming on her brow. Heh. Even if the call themselves Sun-Elves…
“The pilgrimage is people to seek forgiveness from the gods for the ‘sin’ their ancestors committed. Pilgrimage of betrayal, the humans call it, I believe. The Moon-Elves however…”, Faeve put her palm up to guard against the sun as se squinted at something far away. “They come to honour their ancestors who fought against the gods. They cry and offer blood, singing praises all the while”. She stalked slowly towards the edge of the cliff presumably to get a better view of whatever she was looking at. “Oh and”, Her voice carried a whiff of irritation, “even if we are Sun-Elves, we would sweat in a desert”.
I arched my eyebrows as I cracked the joints on my fingers. Pop! The little cracking sounds were surprisingly loud. “I thought the Moon-Elves reconciled with you guys and did a pilgrimage in your city?”
“Their pilgrimage starts from Olyelnore Ur’van. After that they cross the Mountain of Forest and a fringe of Arrhan Canyon to offer pilgrimage near a distant part of the Wall”. She gave a light chuckle that gave off no mirth. “Reconciled? Never. They were just suppressed in the war. Their pilgrimage to Arrhan Canyon is officially to seek forgiveness from the gods. But, we all know what it is actually about. Elders just turn a blind eye because no one wants another all-out war, though some would gladly crush the Moon-Elves”.
I sauntered over to stand beside Faeve. She apparently hadn’t realized I stood behind her so she jolted up, her dagger halfway out of the sheath. She relaxed when she saw me standing with both my hands towards the sky.
Her eyebrows scrunched up. “I know what you are trying to do since I can read your mind, but”. She sheathed her dagger again, “That is not a gesture of surrender. Mages do that to bring down thunder”.
“Yeah, I knew that”, I chuckled lightly. “Someone attacked me in the past because of it”, I said with a sigh. I felt a pained smile crack my lips as I remembered Karro. I hadn’t known it then, but when I had first met him, I made a terrible mistake. I put up my hands in a surrender, but this world being different, he had thought I was trying to call down thunder. And so, happened our first fight. Karro… My head drooped as I his face, whiter than paper came to my mind. Karro, who I killed with my own hands.
I jerked up to see Faeve stare at me with her eyes wide open. She took a step back, and then seemed to hesitate for some reason as she stood rooted on the spot. The cliff-top was deathly silent, save for the sounds of our clothes flapping in the wind.
I ran my fingers through my hair as I held back the bitter fluids that had run up my throat. “Redemption”, I parroted back at her what she said some time ago, “it is not for us”. Yeah. I killed Karro with these very—I held up the palms up to my face—hands.
Faeve clutched her shirt as her head dropped down. An alabaster palm on her mouth, she gulped something down. Unable to resist it, she spat out a mouthful of green liquid. Wiping her mouth with her sleeves she accused, “I do not need any of your thoughts, Humankin. I already—” Her hands feel loose beside her powerlessly, “I have enough of my own. Enough to hate myself”.
“I didn’t choose this”, I splayed my hands. “Stop blaming me every single time”, I said while my hand scurled into a fist. I…I can’t be blamed for this, can I? I kicked a stone from the edge of the cliff. No! I watched as the stone went sailing into the canyon below. This elf should stop—
“Neither did I”, She shot back, interrupting my thoughts. “Yet here you are, eating away at my mind”. She spat some more bile on the sand. Her fine features twisted into an ugly, savage expression. Snarling, she twisted her body away from me.
I could hear my teeth gnash against each other. She does have the right to get angry, but…where does she get off thinking she is the only victim? Who the fuck wanted this bloody fucking connection? Waves of heat built up inside me, till the anger felt like it would boil my skin off. I stared straight into her eyes, “Look, you little—”
Faeve was trembling. Her face had gone white, whiter than anyone’s face should ever be. I felt her fear. The connection didn’t have to carry it over to tell me how afraid she was. Not that it stopped. I felt a part of the fear she felt while I approached her in rage. She held her head in her hands, covering her ears. Her whimpers brought me back to my senses. She…does she think covering her ears would save her? She stared up at me fitfully. I could see the fear cloud her eyes, No, not just that—anger. Rage bled into her as she looked on. Rage born of my mind. At the same time, I saw on her face the shame. Shame at the realization she was being controlled by the connection between us to feel what she felt.
Goddamit! I broke eye contact. This girl won’t even let me—I breathed in and out to calm myself down. She is right. I needed to check my emotions not only for myself, but for her as well. I had already seen how my mania could careen her off the edge, making it perilous for both of us. That’s right. Deep, I closed my eyes as I reminded myself, in and out, in—and—out, like the counselor said. A small smirk broke through my face as I laughed at the irony of the situation. The counselor had also warned me against self-medication, didn’t he? But look at me popping Shivang and Apopris like it was nothing. Well, not that I had much of a choice. They were the closest things to anti-depressants this world had to offer. And, I need them. Badly.
I opened my eyes slowly, closing them immediately. Tch! The sunrays stung my eyes, making me blink. I peered over the edge to look at what Faeve was intently staring at. Looking from the top only served to impress the sheer magnitude of the wall. What looked like a cliff from down below revealed itself for the artificial construct it really was. Nature had played no part in its formation, judging from its steep, unnatural sides and the topography. I tracked Faeve’s eyes following the slight bend in the otherwise straight heading of the wall. Jagged rock formations dotted the cliff at random intervals with their streaks of darker hue reminiscent of claws against the reddish surface. The frequent sandstorms had painted the inner side of the bone-white cliffs a bloody shade of red.
“What are you looking at?” I strained while I cracked the finger-joints on my other hand.
She pointed at the green shrubbery growing on some of the precarious ledges on the inner wall of the cliff. Small branches and brambles poked through the red rocks, almost hidden from view. It might not have been created by nature, but she sure as hell was doing what she could to claim it. Huh? I noticed something else within the jagged rocks. Squinting my eyes didn’t help. Wasn’t I supposed to have better sensory perception from the connection? Why not—
“Our connection still is not as ideal as it should be”, Faeve wearied. “For now, the sensory perceptions might just be enforced only during battles, when your life it as risk”.
Just mine, huh? “Faeve?” I couldn’t stop myself asking.
“Mmm?”
“Why do you hate yourself as well?”
She froze hearing my question. It was as if she even forgot to breathe. Her hands gripped the hilts of her daggers. I could see a deathly pall come over her face as she, for the second time smiled the most heartbreaking smile I have ever seen. Her eyes were like deep pools with a forest, age-old with all the moss it had accumulated over time. With those eyes of restrained sorrow, she looked at me.
“Because”, She mumbled, “I am every bit as despicable as you are”.
For the second time today, I broke the eye contact. Her sigh told me what she had expected in that brief moment. I…I can’t. I can’t get involved. Unknown to me, my arms had clenched tightly by my side as I turned away. Sorry, Faeve. I am can not the hero you want me to be. I never was.
The wind picked up again and carried with it the sound of shrill whistles. Faeve swiveled on her feet and started walking without warning. Taken aback, I followed her in a moment. Our footsteps scraped against the ground, a defiant opposition to the desultory whistles.
“Why are we—” I coughed as a fresh mouthful of sand blasted into my mouth due to the wind. The grit scraped against the insides of my mouth, the sand crunching between my teeth. “going?” I managed to complete as I spat it out of my mouth.
“On top of those cliffs”, she pointed again where I fancied seeing something. She shut her mouth against the wind, choosing to walk without a word. She shielded her eyes against the strong draft carrying sand with it. I strained my ears to hear the rest of her words which the wind ate away.
“Not ‘where’, ‘why’” I groaned, noticing her mistake. It was getting increasingly difficult to converse with the roaring drafts. Faeve walked on without a reaction. I strained to reach above the howling winds, “WHY, WHY”.
She inclined her head at me, making a half turn whiel she walked. A moment later, she nodded, realization dawning on her face. Faeve said something, her words were stolen away.
“WHAT?” I shouted again.
Faeve opened her mouth before closing it again. She chewed her lips before putting up one hand to ask me to wait. Without waiting for my response, she turned away and continued on her path.
We walked on the wall, the world at our feet. Horizons encircled us in an infinite circle. Azure was the sky above us, hiding its two moons in it’s bosom. The dark band of the ring stretched across the sky. The sea raged on one side, and the canyon on the other. Two deserts, one of water and other of red sands, separated by a wall of white.
Rocks and pebbles skittered away from our footsteps, the occasional crunch a stark punctuation to the wind’s rage. Our walk brought us to the top of the cluster of delicate ledges and jagged rock formations. Faeve peered down into the ledge, a tight smile on her lips. My eyebrows rose at her reaction. What is she plann—
The stench hit me like an invisible freight train. The malodor curled around me, the vileness of it all made me gag. Rotting meat? Food? Dead animals? I pondered as my head swam with the sudden onslaught of hideous olfactory assault. I jerked my head away from the ledge in reflex, beating a hasty retreat away from it.
Ugh…not good. I managed to barely contain myself from heaving up. Shaking my head to dispel the smell, I forced myself to gulp down the seawind. The bitter, sharp smell of the sea helped me to clear my senses. I had always found the sea to be unpleasant, with its stench of rotting salt and that tangible fishy smell that all the seas carried. But on this particular occasion, I was thankful for it.
Faeve was still peering over the edge, unfazed by the horrific stench. She…an Elf’s senses would practically magnify that to almost a catatonic degree, no? What the fuck was that any—“Oi Faeve!” I bellowed, answers, dammit!
She put a delicate finger on her lips and hissed.
Huh?
She sauntered over to me all the while asking me to keep quiet. When we were close enough, she pointed at the bag I had got from Icchvarrion. I unhooked it from my belt but not letting it go. Why is she silent? What’s happening? I glared at her in vain; she provided no answers. Dammit! Why doesn’t the fucking connection go this way too!
Her hands shot out at the bag. No you don’t!— I grabbed her wrist before she could touch the bag. I need answers!
She looked at me, her eyebrows scrunched up. Sighing, she brought her lips close to my ear. She had to stand on tip-toe to whisper, “There are some vines in your bag. Take them out”.
It was my turn to stare with rched eyebrows. Why is she whispering? What vine? Why? I pondered while I opened the bag which had turned into its own nest of horrors. Is she stupid? She saw what happened inside the bag right? Why would she— My hands stopped as realization hit me. Faeve handled my stuff. My jaws hardened as I swiped the Wakizashi-dagger out of its sheath, pointing it at her. Too fucking dangerous, what is she planning?
Her eyes stared back like cold jewels boring into my depths. Sighing again, she kneeled down beside me. She leaned over, her lips dangerously close to my ears again, while her hands crept towards the bag slowly.
In a moment, my dagger was poised on her throat, digging into her bisque-doll like nape. She shuddered as the blade touched her skin, but made no attempts to move away.
Slit her neck—a jab at her heart—no substantial armour—eyes fine too-
My thoughts were interrupted by her whisper. “Calm down”, she grated, “I could have killed you long ago if I wanted to”.
I didn’t remove the dagger yet from her neck as I waited for her explanation. Still in the same position, she spoke softly, as if afraid of someone overhearing us. “The vines we climbed up by. Cut them when you were asleep. Put some in your bag because water makes it strong. Need those to climb down, Didn’t take anything else”.
I stared at her eyes in point blank range. Climb down? There? The jagged rocks and precarious ledges were still fresh in my mind. Is she mad?
She didn’t reply, but guided my hands to the drawstring of the bag. The sudden motion made me jolt, and dig in the dagger deeper on her throat. She let out an involuntary grunt with sharp intake of breath. Faeve waited stock still, with only a blade separating each other. A red trickle stained the upper edge of my blade and sauntered lazily down the metal. Her hands trembled over mine as I saw the thinly veiled terror in her eyes.
I gestured her to back off, which she did. With feline grace, she sat on her haunches and removed her hands from mine. I stabbed the dagger straight down into the ground with force as I sighed. Ugh. For a moment, I really thought—
I rummaged through the bag. Well, waded would be a better term. The bag had taken in a lot of water when Faeve and I had fallen into the sea during the fight with the monster. I hadn’t bothered to unload it since—I was lazy. My hands shuddered when I remembered the Nogareli fish we had caught earlier was still swimming somewhere in the depths of the bag. Thankfully, the water that had gone in went through the small opening, otherwise we might have to worry about Crezets swimming inside it—How much did the bag hold anyway?
I nodded at Faeve, when I found the vines. I had went in arms-deep so one of my shirt sleeves was entirely wet and dripped sea water. The stench of salt inside the bag was overbearing as I pulled out the vines. She had sure picked a lot. What the!
The vines were much thicker than I remembered them to be. I guess that what she meant by water makes it stronger. A slight chill was emanating from the bag now. Okay, that’s good. The familiar cold off the Curseblade permeated the entirety of the bag, assuring me that Faeve hadn’t stolen it.
I looked up to see Faeve splay her hands with an ‘I-told-you-so’ expression. She immediately grabbed the vine and went to affix it on a nearby rock. After testing it for strength, she wound it around her waist, holding it up for me to do the same.
We really are climbing down? I looked at her walking over near the ledge. Well, I guess we have no choice, he had to climb down anyhow. But— The rope—It won’t reach till the bottom, would it?
She stood on the ledge, waiting for me. I walked over to her, only to stop on my tracks. A red line still graced her throat. The small trickle of blood had yet to congeal. Her eyes went wide as I gestured her to stand still while I used my sleeves to wipe the blood. The slight contact made her shiver. She stared at me for a moment before shaking her head.
I…I didn’t mean to— The wakizashi, still stained with her blood grew heavy on me hands. I am sorry. I gripped the hilt tighter, for I knew one thing. I will do the same thing, again and again. Trust, is one thing we can’t afford. I hoped the connection would carry my thoughts to her. Seeing her eyes, I knew it did.
Faeve nodded at me before gripping the vine and rappelled off the edge. She descended slowly while planting her feet firmly on the steep walls on the cliff. I followed her. The height was enough to make me dizzy. I could hear my heart thump as I looked at the canyon hundreds of feet below.
One misstep, and… I imagined my body laying squashed like a bug on the red dust, each bones broken by the rocks in the fall. My red blood mingling with the red of the— I gripped the vine ad pushed myself off before I had more unpleasant thoughts.
I stole a last look at the blue sea. Finally, I took a last mouthful of gulp of the rotten salty stench of the sea wind. The sea looked much like that day at Okinawa, with its azure sky and equally jubilant waters, the day Yuki and my world had come crashing down. Sayonara, piece of shit. I braced myself for the overpowering stench and planted my foot firm upon the jagged cliff.
From top of the world, we started out descend into the red waste underneath.
But, why here? I know the vine is too short to reach the end. I almost gagged at the winds carrying up the overbearing smell of rot. If we needed footholds to mitigate the length of the vines, wouldn’t there be other places without such a stench? Why here?
Faeve’s voice had a light mirth in it when she spoke.
“Did not you ask me to grow wings?” she chuckled. “Why, it might just be possible here”.
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Rigel tossed and turned restlessly in his sleep. His body was swatched in sweat as he whimpered softly.
"Wake up, sleepyhead", a soft voice assaulted him.
Warmth flooded his veins as the owner of the voice sat beside him. Wearing a flowing white dress, she sat down on the abundant green grass of Rigel's dreamscape.
"A-Arin?"
"Hey", Arin smiled. "long time no see".
Rigel stared at her dumbstruck. Even in his dreams, she was as beautiful as the day he had first seen her. Maybe it was exactly because it was a dream.
"Remember you told me about a festival in your hometown? People would dance around a tree while singing praises of a voice in the sky? Y'know, the one where a fat guy creeps into children's bedrooms at night?"
"I think you have it a bit backwards, but yes, Christmas".
"Yeah. My gift please".
"But you are dead, What will you do with a gift?"
"That joke had been absolutely overdone", Arin simpered. "You promised"
"Fine, fine. Three chapters. back to back, one each day".
Arin smiled. "Yes". She drew closer to Rigel. "Forget and I won't let you sleep at night. And no, not the good kind".
Rigel smiled back. "And my gift?"
Arin looked downcast. "I am dead, Rigel. I can't-" Her eyes went wide as a thought hit her. "Oh, I know!" She giggled as she spoke, "Maybe the Readers will help. Give fiction an advanced review helps a lot in the rankings, you know? You just have to go here and scroll down till you see the stars and the empty box. Rate the category stars, write a little review, or long if you prefer and you are done!
If you want to just rate the fiction, please click on the stars "Overall Score" and submit! Maybe the readers will help me in giving you such a gift...won't they?"
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