The Sunseeker seemed troubled. If he could, he would had looked at her with wide eyes. In the silent intimacy of the sand room, Kishirra shuffled her feet, feeling so exposed now that she was recounting these old memories. Exposed and peeled off, like an old fruit that someone had forgotten somewhere and picked up.
“This strains belief,” her superior groaned finally, passing a hand over his worried face. “I have heard that Elves came from the great before, but that you actually preceded the Epochalypse… that you actually met with the Kiengiri…”
“It is a bunch of ancient memories,” she added. “And some of them are a bit hazy. Yet I still remember the sound of Mistress’ voice. It has been etched into my skin, into my very flesh.”
“Deeper than the words of Ansàrra?”
“I was the one to approach Her,” Kishirra explained. “And I have made room in my soul for Her word, night and day, writing over what was left of me.”
The Sunseeker sighed and leaned back.
“I suppose the Trial of Gold is going to show us everything for what it is.”
Kishirra chuckled darkly.
“Will it? Master, you said before you believed in the truth of my devotion. Was this enough to make you go back on your words?”
“Nay. But you have to consider the depth of time. You speak of days so far gone. If my belief was a lifeline, you are asking me to throw it into the dark depths of the past, where I cannot see. Where I cannot have faith I see.”
“It is indeed a dark matter.”
“Does not look like much so far,” he scoffed. “Talks of the Kiengiri speak of grandiosity, lavish conquests, pleasure and greed. They reached for the sky, they flew so close to the Sun to burn to cinders and leave the entire world covered in black ash. You recount you were part of that.”
“Indeed,” Kishirra agreed. “I am one speck of that ash. And I am afraid pleasure and good memories will not last long.” She took a long breath. “Neither did Mistress’ words.”
+++
The Garden was everything Mistress had told her it was — and more. As Mistress invited her to step down from the mantle into the glass dome that covered another of the tall geometric spires, the scent of flowers was the first thing that hit Kishirra.
She was used to drab, unremarkable confinements where she would sit in the dark, listening to the wavering breath of her brethren. But that was before she was recognised by Mistress.
Beneath the dome there was a large patch of grass and low fruitful trees, surrounded by stone decorations such as columns, a dais and half-built statues. And what mattered was — it was full of Elves.
They were both male and female, each of them wearing just a simple grey tunic which fell to their feet, but showing off their perfected bodies. Kishirra instinctively compared herself to the black hair and blue eyes of the others, the Kiengiri features she was also supposed to have, if it had not been for the Hearthwomb’s manufacture’s… mistake?
Mistress had accepted her, praised her for her lighter features, and she was grateful but — standing there as each of the other Elves turned to regard her, she felt put under scrutiny, appraised like a piece of a mosaic that did not really hold up.
“I-I…” she stammered, raking her brain for the right words. The gaze of the others felt like spears, so sharp against her sable skin. “I—”
“This is Kishirra,” Mistress saved her, wrapping her arm around her midsection and gently pulling her forward. Her naked feet tasted the grass and it was damp and tingly on her skin, but far from unpleasant. It felt a bit like coming home. “She is my new addition and your new companion. You ought to treat her as one of your own from now on.”
If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Each of the other Elves nodded and it suddenly became true. Kishirra felt the pressure of social acceptance lift.
She let out the breath she had been holding and tried to take a step forward, stumbled — someone held her.
Not Mistress.
A tall and dark-haired male, who gave her a half-smile, holding her up so that she could get better suited to her environment.
“A-Apologies,” she said. The male chuckled.
“You shall get used to it.” He turned to regard Mistress and she allowed him to speak. “If I may — we are already a big herd here. Should we take care of her or should she be instructed to take care of herself first? She is brand new.”
Mistress chuckled.
“Always so perceptive.”
“I can still smell the Hearthwomb on her,” he replied with a softer smile. “It feels nostalgic, and I remember a time when I was a doubtful as she may be.”
Mistress tilted her head and I awaited for her reply with bathed breath.
“I appreciate how kind you are, Gam’mu.”
Kishirra registered the newcomer’s name. It sounded so different from hers — a bit rough and perhaps even uncouth, but it did have a beautiful meaning. A burning circle.
“Then perhaps I have found just the right specimen for her,” she declared. Leaning forward, she put Kishirra’s and Gamm’mu’s hands together. “You will be her new brother.”
There was, once again, no further debate.
Kishirra did not even blink, but when she raised her eyes from their linked hands she saw Gam’mu as the family she never had. Her heart pulled with true softness, not the kind of absolute, all-encompassing obedience she owed Mistress, but a gentle and soft kind of love, a love that would welcome her.
Gam’mu’s expression also turned a little softer and when he put his hand over her shoulder she welcomed it with grace.
“Thank you for this gift,” Kishirra dared to say. Mistress clapped her hands together and tittered, showing her excitement.
“I know! I realised at once he would be your perfect brother! Now, let’s show her around, right Gam’mu?” Mistress led them further inside the Garden. Kishirra, always the obedient sister, stuck by Gam’mu side as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, protecting her from the curious gazes of the other Elves.
Mistress’ command had made any hostility truly void, but that did not mean that they enjoyed her presence.
“That would come with time, sister,” Gam’mu assured her. “Just do what I do and you will be another perfect part of the Garden.”
“I shall, brother,” she agreed, while Mistress watched them with stars in her eyes.
“So perfect! Ah, the theatrics and the softness, I love it all! Come on Gam’mu, tell her, tell her!” Mistress pointed at a large tree a few paces ahead. Now that the dome rose further up, it had room to grow and it was maybe thrice as tall as Kishirra.
“Those are sweet fruits. We pick them when they are ripe,” Gam’mu explained, taking one from the tree with one swift movement. “We peel them, like this, and see, the inside is full of seeds.” He showed her. It was filled with juicy red seeds. “You can eat them, go ahead.”
Kishirra did as she was told, aware of Mistress’ excited gaze. She put a few seeds in her mouth and they tasted… sweet, but also zesty. Some distant part of her synapsids, doubtlessly generated by the Hearthwomb, informed her that the fruit tasted a bit like ants, but also sweet like honey.
“It tastes like ants!” Kishirra declared, pick a few more seeds to eat.
Gam’mu chuckled at her enthusiasm.
“If you would like to speak of it like that, dear sister. You will live like this with us: we pick the fruits when they are ripe, and we take care of the plants and the grass. Nothing more is asked of you than being pleasant to the eye and to the ears.”
“Indeed,” Mistress sighed, coming closer to brush away a lock of her blond hair from her face. “You are all so effortlessly beautiful, so gorgeous and perfect.” A tinge of longing cracked into her voice and Kishirra waited for her to continue. If she could help by lending Mistress an ear… “And you are going to be like that for ever.”
Kishirra frowned.
Ever.
That word sounded far too hard even for someone like her, even for something like the Hearthwomb.
“You are all so blessed, even if you do not know. You cannot understand it yet, but in time…” Mistress’ hand came to rest on Kishirra’s cheek and she let out a soft gasp at how right and pleasant that touch felt. “We could not grant it to ourselves, but we did manage to give it to you. The ultimate gift of eternal life. You are immortal, Kishirra. You and all of your kind. You will live forever, even when I have departed this world… in a way, I am being so selfish, don’t you think? Even when I am nothing more than a speck of dust in the earth, my memory will live on through all of you. Forever.”
Kishirra frowned.
“I do not want you to turn into a speck of dust, Mistress.”
She laughed.
“Neither do I! But that is something I cannot change. Ah, never mind,” she said and Kishirra stopped worrying so much about it. “Enjoy your new life! Enjoy your new family! And be happy every day. Promise me, dear Kishirra. Promise me…” she held Kishirra’s hands into her own and whispered against her skin: “… promise me you will be what we cannot. Promise me you will be happy every day.”