XXIX. DARK MOTHER DIVINE

  The barren wastes that were known as the fire plains spread out like a vast sea of orange-ish dirt and coarse sand in all directions. The air was still and oppressive, and Aichlan longed for the Death Marsh, at least the sweltering hot air moved in the swamp. Unfortunately, the geologic instability of the mountains’ eruption made the blighted swamp impassable. Noxious fumes covered the sulfur plains and fires raged uncontrollably.

  A train of weary bodies slowly marched their way up an ancient road; sun bleached but otherwise a well-preserved relic of the time before the collapse. He wiped his brow and trudged on mechanically. The distant peaks of the mountain ranges that made up Rhodes’ north south and western borders barely broke the horizon, adding to the sense of emptiness and desolation the desert brought. The only real consolation was that the plains were vastly flat. The harsh summer sun beamed down upon the scorched sands and foolish refugees that attempted to pass under it at its zenith. Gone were the cooling winds of the mountain basin, and there had been no sign of vegetation in days.

  They passed the occasional ruin, three-quarters buried beneath the sand. Ancient structures that once scraped the belly of the sky now lay toppled as a monument to both past glory and failures. The occasional bluff or rocky outcrop held statues carved from the stone, many with arms long ago broken off and riddled with small holes. Aichlan had taken off his surcoat and mail miles back and now debated dropping his coat of plates as well. His assignments had always taken him to temperate or colder regions, never had he been to a desert, and never again would he go back to one.

  Clarissa traveled arm in arm with Eth and fanned herself while Lucien followed close behind holding her parasol. Her absurd pink hair was matted against her delicate face and nearly blinding in the bright sunlight. She barely seemed to be holding it together, but there was not much anyone could do at the moment. The heat was oppressive. Aichlan wiped his brow with a handkerchief and wondered how much further they had to go. The rest of The Order were scattered throughout the formation, unable to keep up in the heat.

  He wondered how the Colby-Nau fared, particularly Eth, shirtless as always under the blazing sun. Being attuned with fire, he wondered if they even cared, but the sweat on his friend’s brow showed that even the elves had their limits.

  “Grandmaster Aichlan,”

  Aichlan shuddered, the last thing he needed was to hear Lucien’s bitching. He pretended not to hear, but the Bishop was undeterred.

  “Grandmaster Aichlan, it is far too hot for her Excellency to be marching through this Dawn forsaken wasteland!”

  Aichlan took a drink from a skin; the water was tepid and unsatisfying. “It’s too hot for any of us Lucien, what would you have me do?”

  Lucien mopped the sweat from his brow as he gesticulated towards Maleah. “Have that woman surrender one of her horses, there’s no reason for those cretins to ride about in relative comfort whilst her Excellency trudges on by foot and risks a heat stroke!”

  If it were not so hot, he would have found the Bishops attempts to ingratiate himself to the Cardinal he vehemently denounced humorous. It was hot however and he was in no mood for quarrels. He reluctantly turned around and stumbled backwards for a few beats as he tried to search out Maleah. There was a gaggle of horses towards the center of the mass, all led by their reigns. It appeared that no one was to be riding today.

  “It’s too hot even for the beasts;” Aichlan shrugged, not really giving a damn about what Lucien wanted either way, “everyone is on foot this afternoon Bishop.”

  Aichlan glanced at Clarissa, curious as to why she was so uncharacteristically silent. Her eyes were half-open, and her skin was relatively dry, she had even stopped fanning herself. He cursed to himself and unstopped his skin, handing it to her to drink. She did not appear to notice and continued to shuffle forward.

  “Eth, give her this.”

  Eth took the skin and nudged her with it. She looked up in a daze and feebly took it in her hands. With help, she put it to her lips and took a long drink.

  “This is absurd;” Lucien fumed, his red face looking all the more like a pig on the spit, “we cannot continue like this in broad daylight. The Cardinal needs a rest; as do these people you are so intent upon saving.”

  While he was loath to admit it, Lucien was right. Very few had been this far north into Rhode, the few traders who had ventured so far north either had died on the mountain or were in Eefrit; essentially trapped on the other side of the marsh. No one knew how much further they had left, and he could not risk pushing on without knowing if the destination was days or hours away.

  “Alright,” he relented “we stop at the next ruin we find; it’d make no sense to lay down on the empty road, our fate would be no different than if we continued walking.”

  “Then we should turn back, we passed some not too long ago.”

  “That was hours ago, I’m not turning back. We can find shelter further up.”

  “Oh, so you’ve been to this country before have you?” Lucien retorted snootily. “And I assume you studied archaeology whilst here as well.”

  “Don’t be a cunt Lucien, we aren’t turning back.”

  Eth raised his arm and pointed off into the distance, halting any further bickering. “The road branches off maybe a half mile thata wye. I’ve niver been oot this far before, but those offshoots usually lead to a town, oor at least what used tae be a town.”

  Lucien squinted off into the distance. “I will defer to your judgment on this matter then, but I am not sure the Cardinal will be able to make it.”

  Without a word, Eth lifted Clarissa up and carried her in his arms before he hurried off towards what would hopefully be shelter.

* * *

  The road split just after a stone sign half buried in the sand, the left-hand path was buried beneath the ever-shifting sands, leaving the rutted and neglected right as the only option. The words carved into it were badly worn, but according to Órfhlaith, it said: “Welcome to Desert Hot Springs.” It was a pitiful looking hellhole, and Aichlan doubted it was much of anything even when people still lived in it. True to its name, there were bubbling pools of boiling hot mineral water scattered about, and the air was thick with the smell of rotting eggs and spent matches.

  They took refuge in the colossal structures that seemed frozen in time, seemingly spared the devastation of war millennia ago. Several towers loomed higher than the ancient trees of Alfheim, or the redwood forests of Agrardya, even half buried in the sand. Others were leaning skeletal husks of rusted steel, ghosts of an unknown civilization in an architectural style not seen anywhere on Silex for millennia. Alice was busy using her magic to cool the water, and the clerics of The Order scampered about easing the symptoms of dehydration.

  While the shade the buildings offered was a welcome relief, it was still ungodly hot. The air was almost suffocating, and everyone was constantly dripping in perspiration.

  Several of the younger Colby-Nau had gone off to explore the city, though he was unsure what they hoped to find, they had the exuberance that only a child could possess. He followed a couple of the curious children, just to be sure no demons of The Dusk were hidden within the ruins they sought to explore. There was nothing left, much of the town had been stripped bare by the elements or scavengers long ago.

  Aichlan plopped down on the sand with his back to a pillar; the sun slowly crept across the sky, unwilling to offer them the reprieve its passing would allow.

  “Careful of scorpions.”

  “I’ve not seen anything alive since we started this exodus.” He looked up to take the frosted cup Ashe held out for him.

  Ashe shielded her eyes from the glare as she scanned the barren lot. “Daen’t mean they aren’t out here.”

  “How’ve you been?” Aichlan drained the cup in a single gulp; the icy water was a godsend. “I’ve not seen you in a while.”

  She shrugged. “Well enough, been takin’ it slow.”

  Silence hung between them for several moments. He felt that it was his responsibility to say something but knew not what it was he was supposed to say. He had explained his situation; he had expressed his remorse, yet still there was this distance between them.

  “Want to have a seat?” he cringed at his own awkwardness.

  “An’ get bit in the arse by a scorpion?” She said with a chuckle. “Think I’ll stand.”

  He nodded and turned back to the desolate street and ruins before him. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know ye are.”

  “I also love you.”

  Ashe squatted down beside him and looked upon him with her jewel like eyes. He was suddenly back in Elysia, making the trek across Sorn, looking upon her emerald eyes and unruly red locks for the first time. He reached up and caressed her cheek; the sun had bronzed her, where he had mostly just burned. She smirked in response and drew back, playfully placing her finger to his lips. As Aichlan bowed his head and put on a dejected countenance, she abruptly leaned in and kissed him softly upon the lips. Despite the heat and fatigue, he wanted to pull her into him and become one upon the sand. Ashe giggled and lightheartedly pushed him back.

  “Aye, I know that too.” She took back the empty cup and stood. “But ye daen’t get off that easily.”

  “I suppose not.” Aichlan admitted reluctantly.

  “Nae interuptin’ anythin’ am I?” Eth asked as he perfunctorily knocked on a collapsed pillar.

  Ashe offered Eth a smile as he cautiously approached. “Not at all. I was just leavin’.”

  Aichlan turned to urge her to stay, but she was already rounding the corner. He sighed and leaned his head back against the stone. Eth put his arm up on the pillar and leaned against it as he stared off into the shimmering horizon. Thankfully, his shadow granted a brief respite from the blazing sun.

  “Oor women are a wee bit fickler than what ye may be used tae.”

  Aichlan cast a pebble across the blazing road. “All women are fickle Eth, it’s in their blood.”

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  “Aye, true, but Colby-Nau regularly live for seven tae eight, even nine hundred years.” Eth idly kicked at the dirt with his calloused, dust coated toe. “By oor standards, she’s a babe, a teenager really. Ye’ll have tae be a bit more patient.”

  Fey of Aes Sidhe had longer lifespans than the average human, whereas a man would be lucky to see one hundred winters, a full fey could expect at least twice that. Still, that paled in comparison to the lifespan of elves. Time Aichlan was not keen spending being scorned by his lover.

  “How patient?”

  Eth whistled and jammed his hand in his pocket. “Well, the wife once gave me the silent treatment for five years so, I’d say pretty patient.”

  Aichlan laughed at the absurdity. “Five years is a bloody long time.”

  “Fer ye maybe. She’ll come ‘round though, she knows ye daen’t got much time left.”

  “Real comforting Eth…”

  Eth guffawed and tousled Aichlan’s hair. “They’re also aggressive, I know she started the whole thing by jumpin’ yer bones, but they like fer the man to finish it so tae speak.”

  Aichlan swatted Eths hand away and tried in vain to fix his hair. “I think you’re generalizing.”

  “Oh, I am now?” Eth drew himself indignantly. “And who tends tae initiate things where yer from?”

  Aichlan’s bemused smile quickly faded. It was generally the man’s obligation to initiate courting across Runandia and Briternica. In most kingdoms, women were expected to be coy regarding matters of love and sex.

  “She wants ye to need her,” Eth nodded with a self-satisfied grin, “she can carry on as if ye coming or going won’t phase her a bit, ye’ll be the devoted one. She’ll probably grow oot of it eventually, but that’s jus’ how these young ones are.”

  Aichlan wondered how long it would “eventually” take her to come out of this ridiculous phase. He was certain it likely would not come until long after he was gone. It was odd to seriously consider romantic advice from a man like Eth, but he had been married, so he had to have done something right.

  What was even more unexpected was how it was not even a question as to whether or not he would wait at all. Essentially, Ashe was only his second long-term relationship, yet if felt the most natural despite how quickly it all came about. He wondered what it would be like to grow old with her and was surprised at how easily such thinking came to him. Given how slowly the elves aged, she would probably look pretty much the same when he was old and grey. Perhaps the devotion aspect would not be as difficult to maintain as he had previously thought.

* * *

  After the sun had set, the temperature dropped drastically, leaving the blazing desert like a harsh tundra. With canteens filled and chilled, and the refugees somewhat rested, the convoy continued. The road widened considerably, and, on both sides, heavily corroded metal poles shot up at regular intervals. Bright white light flooded the road from a couple of them, but the majority were dead relics. The highway had once been a major thoroughfare and was still used for trade up until recent events ended Rhode’s status as a hub for trade.

  “So, who lives in Vergas?” Clarissa asked. “I’ve never even ‘eard of it before.”

  “Come to think of it neither have I.” Aichlan added. “I didn’t think any humans lived on the lands west of the Wraith Wood.”

  Eth tightened the blanket around his bare shoulders. “They’re nae really affiliated with anyone, it’s a free city.”

  Aichlan tightened his collar, surprised at how quickly the hellish heat had given way to arctic cold. “So, who are they? Exiles? Refugees?”

  Eth shook his head. “Nae, businessmen mostly. They popped up and settled the land around the time Aes Sidhe was warring with Rhodarcium. They didnae venture too far intae oor lands so we just let ‘em stay. We traded food for materials we couldn’t mine or produce ourselves.”

  “Are they the ones who put up these lights?” Aichlan asked as he shielded his eyes from the glare and sudden brightness.

  “Them? They’ve been there for millennia, sometimes someone comes oot tae change the bulbs but they’re solar powered. Daen’t know who put ‘em there but I assume it was the same folk that built all these cities buried in the sand.”

  The ground shook beneath them, and several cries of alarm went out from the formation. Aichlan put his hand to his sword, unsure if it was a foe or the mountain erupting again. The ground shook again, and he realized that the tremors were the footsteps of some massive creature. His palms grew sweaty as his heart raced at the prospect of a new threat. The last thing they needed was to fight another pitched battle, morale was low enough already.

  He turned and searched for the rest of his army, but everyone was intermingled with the civilians and completely spread out. The masses huddled together, and their pace slowed, they were a mob. As soon as whatever was coming their way showed itself, they would flee in a panic, he’d seen it nearly a dozen times before.

  “Shit.” Aichlan spun around and franticly searched the sea of elves. “Eth! Where are Donough and Órfhlaith?”

  Eth shrugged just as Ashe and Ransom jogged over. The ground shook again, accompanied by the snort of a massive creature. Aichlan turned back to the now panicked rabble behind him. If they were to need to fight again, there would be nothing to stop them from fleeing in a confused mass in all directions. He only had three people in his immediate vicinity even capable of fighting, one of whom was unarmed.

  Aichlan swore and looked up to the spotlight that illuminated them. “How do you turn those damned things off?”

  “Ye want us to fight in the dark?” Ashe asked incredulous.

  “No, I want us to run away in the dark.”

  “They’re automatic; they go off when the sun comes up.” She replied as another footstep shook the ground.

  Aichlan drew his sword, though unconvinced it would do him any good. “Perfect.”

  A bloated dragon dragged itself across the road and paused to regard them. Its limbs were as thick as redwoods and it stood at least as tall as one too. Its wings had feathers and bovine like udders swung under its swollen belly. Its head had massive horns and its eyes were like the ocean, deep and vast, mysterious and indifferent.

  Aichlan gasped and took a step back; if this thing were hostile, their journey would end then and there.

  Ransom sheathed his sword and whistled a catcall. The absurdity of it caused Aichlan to double take in surprise, unsure if he had actually done what he thought he had. He almost struck Ransom down for the idiotic move. Fortunately, the creature quickly grew bored with them and continued on its way.

  “Oh, come on baby, don’t leave so soon! We’ve yet to become acquainted.” Ransom called after the creature.

  “Don’t be so rude.” Clarissa chastised.

  Aichlan stood petrified in terror as the heavy footsteps faded into the distance. He turned first to Ransom, who calmly lit up a cigarette, then to Clarissa who was also totally at ease.

  “I wonder what those tremors were, certainly wasn’t her.” Clarissa casually asked as she unscrewed the cap of her canteen.

  “We must go after her!” Lucien shouted red faced and jowls flapping. “A woman shouldn’t be left to this wilderness alone!”

  Ransom laughed aloud. “As if she’d give an old fat fuck like you the time of day.”

  Lucien shook with anger as his face turned a shade of red darker. “The insolence! Grandmaster Aichlan! I demand you discipline your man for this outrage!”

  Aichlan turned to him with a look of utter confusion. “The fuck is wrong with you people?”

  Lucien drew back and looked as if her were having a conniption. “I never! Your Excellency! Please speak some sense into this man, he’s clearly unwell!”

  Clarissa rolled her eyes at Lucien but took a step towards Aichlan. “We should go after ‘er, she looked, how you say, frightened.”

  “She also had horns.” Séverin said.

  Aichlan spun around and raised his blade, startled to see Séverin standing behind him. Séverin seemed to glower into Aichlan’s very soul as he calmly pushed the blade down with a single finger. Aichlan swore under his breath and offer a mumbled apology, but Séverin just held up in dismissal of the event and made his way to the edge of the light source.

  “What are you talking about? I didn’t see any horns. Unless you’re counting mine.” Ransom said, breaking out into a fit of laughter at his own joke.

  “The fuck is wrong with you people!” Aichlan demanded again.

  Eth placed a hand on his shoulder and took his sword from him. “Glamor’s got ‘em.”

  He sheathed the sword and patted Aichlan on the shoulder. He turned back around to glimpse the beast again, but it was gone. Aichlan turned back to Eth with a questioning look in his eyes. His friend knew what was happening but was withholding it for some reason.

  “Ask them what they saw.” He prompted.

  “Aichlan, are you alright?” Clarissa asked with concern.

  Aichlan looked first to Eth then back to Clarissa. “What did you see?”

  “What do you mean?" Ransom exhaled a cloud of smoke. "You were here.”

  “Just answer the fucking question!” Aichlan shouted, frustrated, and confused by the strange actions of those around him.

  “It was a woman, long white hair and horns like a ram.” Séverin turned around and put his hands in his pockets. “She was scantily clad in sheer silk, a thong with bejeweled belts hanging from her hips and a strip of fabric hung between her legs. It had some sort of heraldry or symbols written on it.”

  “Huge tits.” Ransom said, miming globes with his hands.

  “She also wore a crown and some sort of pendant,” Clarissa said, shooting Ransom a look of disgust. “could she ‘ave been royauté?”

  “We need to go after her, she may need assistance.” Lucien insisted.

  “Nae, we won’t be doin’ any o’ that. She’ll be fine on her own.”

  Lucien turned up his nose and snorted. “And how can you be so sure of that?”

  “I just know.” Eth ushered Aichlan away from the group as he turned to the gaggle of people behind them. “Let’s keep moving!”

  “What the fuck….” Aichlan muttered as he shook his head in disbelief.

  Eth leaned in and whispered into his ear. “I’ll explain once were movin’ again, but we’ve got tae get goin’.”

  While he did not know what had happened or why his closest allies appeared to have seen something drastically different than the hulking beast that had crossed their path, Eth’s urgent tone conveyed all he needed to know. Aichlan nodded and ushered everyone in his immediate vicinity moving again, but Séverin blocked him.

  Aichlan avoided Séverin’s gaze as he tried to walk around him. “We need to—”

  “What did you see?” Séverin demanded, still blocking his path.

  Aichlan stared back into his red eyes for several moments, debating over whether or not he should tell him the truth. Eth had seemed adamant about not telling them and seemed insistent that they move on. Whatever the “glamour” was…Aichlan sighed and pushed past Séverin, eager to be underway again, finally recalling the forgotten significance of the term.

  “I saw the same as you,” Aichlan gave Séverin a patronizing pat on the shoulder and pushed on, “now we must hurry on.”

  He did not linger to see if he bought it or not as he urged the others on. He knew of the glamour, though like all people from his homeland, he had never experienced it.

  It was no wonder he had forgotten about it, seeing as he was immune to it. There were stories though, stories of foreign travelers stumbling into a faerie circle at night or crawling under a hill only to emerge decades later drained of life and babbling about riches and splendor. The “good folk” of Aes Sidhe were notorious tricksters, and as their descendants, the people of that kingdom were immune to their illusions. Apparently so were the Colby-Nau. The same could not be said for the rest of his companions however, which explained Eth’s insistence on keeping quiet.

  If they chased after that woman, they would wind up lost forever or worst. Any attempt to try to explain that they had been deceived would only encourage them to chase after the creature more to prove him wrong.

  “Her name’s Tiamat.” Ashe paused awkwardly as she matched his stride. “She’s…. ambivalent.”

  “Ambivalent?” Aichlan asked with mild annoyance. “To what?”

  Ashe shrugged and brushed a stray curl from her face. “Us, The Dusk, The Dawn, everything. It’s how she avoided being sealed away, much like the Phoenix. She used to roam these wastes giving birth to dragons, once about every dozen or so years. About eight hundred years ago a bloke by the name o’ Eighneachan Stone-Wood gathered his tribe and hunted her down.”

  Aichlan chewed on his lower lip, his eyes fixed ponderously on the rutted road before him. “If this creature is giving birth to dragons, it might be prudent for us to do the same then.”

  Eth laughed aloud. “Right, with all but a couple o’ the humans thinkin’ its some goddess in need of protecting. They’ll turn sword on their comrades before they let ‘er come tae harm.”

  “Then we leave them behind.” Aichlan said defensively. “This seems like too big a threat to ignore. All stories point to dragons being massive terrifying beasts that regularly razed villages.”

  “Tae farmer’s maybe,” Eth said dismissively, “unless ye be a goat or go snooping about their lairs, they’d just as soon leave well enough alone.”

  “Besides,” Ashe added, “It took one thousand men nearly a thousand hours to take Tiamat down the first time. And since she’s back I’m guessin’ it only sent her to The Dusk fer a bit.”

  Aichlan stared off into the direction the dragon had headed. He shuddered and quickened his pace. While he was not comfortable with the idea of some creature that birthed dragons running free, it was not an immediate concern. They still needed to get the civilians to safety and pursue Osric.

  “He must be a Rhodean hero of sorts then.”

  Ashe rolled her eyes. “Ugh, hardly. Eighneachan was just a blow-hard who got pissed in every tavern of east Rhode after his pet sheep got snatched up by a dragon one evening. He got a bunch of lay-abouts, promised them food and drink and they were off. Weren’t nothin’ heroic about it.”

  “Then how do you know the story so well?”

  Eth jerked his head back towards the group behind them. “Eighneachan was Donough’s grandfather; he won’t shut up about it.”

  “Anywye, it’s just best if we forget about it." Ashe took Aichlan by the hand and gently pulled him along. "Naething we could do even if’n we wanted, and she really is nae going tae harm anyone. D’rectly at least.”

  “Hmm. Perhaps you’re right.”

  They continued in silence under the sporadic lighting from the lamps. The sound of his name being called out caused Aichlan to turn around and search out the source, hoping it was not the beast returning.

  He saw Alice frantically waving her hands over her head as she approached with a breathless Fiora in tow. He stopped to wait for her, wondering what it was that she was so excited about.

  “Aichlan!” she shouted again.

  “What?” he responded, curious as to why she was grinning ear to ear.

  “Did you see the gigantic fucking dragon?”