Soren tried to take all the city in at once but it was impossibly huge. As they descended the ramp Soren stared past the marbled pillars. The city was built completely of marble so the pillars couldn't help but blend in. Each building, road and promenade had been carved out of the marble. It was as if a single sculptor had envisioned it and it simply was. Soren stared up the ramp that circumvented the city. Then she looked back down the slowly winding tract and around at the marble walls of Susura. The huge ramp made its winding way around the entire city in one impossibly graceful spiral. Intermittent bridges connected buildings to the ramp and Soren saw doorways that led to stairs where one could ostensibly avoid the lengthy path at the expense of having to take stairs. The walls around her were of pristine pink and white marble, yet she saw a wide variant of gradations as she looked down.
The colors turned to deep reds and darker still as the ramp descended into the depths. The marble had been carved into massive reliefs around the walls high above. The reliefs were well over a hundred feet and each was a pictograph of one of the twelve houses. Soren suddenly realized there were a number of depictions she didn’t recognize immediately. She made a mental note to ask Freyyala about them later. As she looked down at the city she realized she wasn’t anywhere near the bottom. At first she had thought the city to be somewhat shallow before realizing that much of the depths of the city were obscured by bridges, promenades and statues. Below her, Soren could see the city. It was at least a thousand feet deeper with buildings of ever widening bases filling the center. When she looked up, Soren’s view of the sky was obscured by huge arches, hundreds of feet across. They looked dark from below and crisscrossed much of the sky in an oddly unnatural pattern. Within the arches, Soren made out windows and passing movement from within. She saw people tending gardens along ledges who looked tiny as ants. Huge vines hung from the bridges with vibrant white flowers blooming from within. Everywhere the marble was carved with intricate designs and reliefs.
Every inch of wall available was covered with a domicile of some kind. Soren quickly realized the true elegance of the city was within the city walls themselves. The "walls" outside were often left polished and bare. Inside, from what Soren could see through doorways and windows, every inch of wall was covered in intricate pictographs describing countless stories or perhaps lineages Soren could only guess at. Susura was unlike any city Soren had ever seen, not that she had been to a city before. Still she knew this was worlds away from the drab and wrought iron Newton City or any of the other northern cities she had heard stories of. Soren looked down and studied the large towers and minarets climbing past her to the sky. A single tower in the center of Susura actually connected to the bottom of one of the natural bridges hanging far above them. From this central tower, other buildings seemed to cling on in an effort to raise themselves up.
As they descended the ramp Soren watched the marble become increasingly darker in color. In some places the marble had been replaced with lighter stone from higher up. The contrast was stark and made the light-colored stone appear to pop out. At a doorway bordered with light pink marble, all but two of the scouts left. They didn't even glance at the three yet waved amiably to their comrades. The leader of the scouts and one of the bowmen continued on with a curt nod for them to follow. By the time they had reached the bottom of the ramp, the pale green light of midday had turned Susura impossibly bright.
The suns shone like a beacon above her. Soren was led through a doorway opposite a massive white marble statue of the Goddess Shamash. The figure was holding a double-edged sword. Her other hand was outstretched in a gesture of effort, face was contorted in concentration. An incongruent wind blew from behind her billowing her clothing and hair forward. Soren had never seen something so lifelike. To add to the effect a breeze actually blew from behind her with surprising strength. As they walked past the statue, she did a double take as the clothing seemed to have billowed and then again strands of hair seemed to flow on the statue. Soren turned to Freyyala agog but the woman only smiled out of the corner of her mouth and continued on.
The small party continued through the doorway and into a wide passage that descended into steps. The wind did not abate, in fact it seemed to only get stronger. Eventually, Soren realized she was heading towards the center of the city. The steps meandered for a time before leveling out and eventually rising back up again. At the top of the stairs was another statue of Shamash. This time she had both hands out again her face was twisted with concentration and it took some effort to make it past the wind and through the doorway.
When she finally had, Soren was surprised to feel the complete lack of any wind against her chest. Before she could consider this oddity though, they were ushered along towards the center of the building. She knew it was the center by the eleven other passages going in eleven other directions, like the spokes of a wheel. Soren assumed each passage had their own deity to guard their entrances. In the center, a wide and shallow staircase rose through the center. The scouts led them wordlessly to the staircase and began to climb. As they ascended, Soren saw passageways shooting off in irregular intervals along the stairwell. These became less frequent as they rose. Soren thought it would be very difficult to find a specific one. Finally, the two scouts stopped, not at the top but at an unassuming passageway that looked to Soren like all the rest. She wondered again at how they could possibly know where they were dizzy as she was.
Without a word the scouts motioned for Freyyala, Coratel and Soren to move on ahead. The group walked tentatively with Freyyala leading them through the brightly lit marble passage. Windows were cut into the stone and Soren could see they were high up though by no means near the top. The passageway ended in another narrowing passage and once again they went through single file. On the other side Soren saw two heavily armored guards and one elderly woman. She was seated on a plain bench of unassuming marble. Her white hair had blended with the stone around her and made her dark skin beautifully distinct. Soren turned to Freyyala, she was astonished to see utter shock on the woman’s face. Freyyala quickly averted her eyes and bent low in prostration. Soren looked back at the old woman who smiled kindly at her and said,
“Soren Pickett, Coratel Tobas, Ead Frey’yala,” She looked at each of them as she spoke their name before saying,
“Welcome home. I am Litaelim.”
Soren took in the figure. This woman in front of her was old, older than she'd appeared by far. So old her wrinkles obscured her features. Her nose was much too big as were her ears and liver marks blotched her dark skin.
“I’m sorry ma’am,” Soren said,
“But you can’t be Litaelim, I’ve met her… She isn’t you.” Freyyala looked up at Soren. Her eyes spoke of unfathomable horrors Soren couldn’t meet for more than a moment. The look made her suddenly fear for her life. Freyyala reached under her robe but the old woman made a sound that Soren didn’t register as laughter at first. She looked up to see the old woman wheezing into her hand, saying in a shaky voice,
“Here stop now. I am Litaelim and I’ll prove it child.” With that she waved over one of the guards who came up behind Soren and dropped a bag in front of her.
“you left this when last we spoke.” It was obviously the bag of food she had tried to bring back in the desert. She looked at the bag, it was the same only now filled with gently molding food. Soren’s mind reeled.
“But, what? You don't look anything like the woman I saw in my dream. I know it was a dream but, still...” Soren said unhelpfully,
“A question you should ask yourself. Your mind made up my form. Its never perfect when dreaming of someone you've never met before. Your mind will try and get close but its rarely perfect. Also, I suspected Freyyala was feeding you Shukkar fruit when I could not find you after the third night. That stuff will do funny things to your dreams. The stronger the dreamer the more effected their dreams often are by our sacred fruit. In case Freyyala has failed to mention it, these effects will persist for a long, long time. I take it you still haven't slept?"
"No." was all Soren you reply,
"Well, We- We have much to discuss you and I.” Litaelim cut herself off and sighed before continuing,
“I suspect your all quite tired from your journey. You will find adequate lodging with me in Enki’s Wedge.” It took a moment for Soren to realize the city must be organized around “Wedges”. Of course, Litaelim would live in the Enki part of the city, Soren thought. Unsure what to do, or what decorum to follow, Soren bowed to the matron saying,
“Thank you ma’am. I have much I’d like to ask you as well.”
“In time child, in time. First, rest and dream and rejoice in Enki’s oceans.” Soren had begun to step back half expecting a bed right behind her when Litaelim addressed Coratel,
“Coratel Tobas,” She said, and Soren caught herself with a jolt at the man’s last name. She should have known, for some reason the connection simply didn't come until that moment. The family of Tobas was one of the wealthiest families in Meridian. What was a son of Tobas doing in Cottonwood?
“No doubt someone is looking for you.” Litaelim said cooly, Coratel’s face flushed but he remained controlled as he said,
“Likely many someone's Matron Litaelim, I have come for a number of reasons to this incredible city of yours, none of them involve the House of Tobas. I assure you.”
“Believe me boy, I understand your plight infinitely better than you could. You and I will speak again, at length.” Litaelim made the slightest of glances to Soren before continuing,
“For now, you too will be my guest.” Her words brooked no argument and Soren had a stray thought that the words “guest” and “captor” were really just matters of perspective.
“Ead Frey’yala” Litaelim sung,
“You were away long this time; and eating Shukkar fruit no less. Oh yes, all the twelve have heard of it by now.” Freyyala looked back down at the floor, yet her face was hard as the marble around them.
“There are plenty who wish to punish you for this thing. I understand what was at stake and I hope to convince the others of it. Still, until this is settled you too should remain as my guest in Enki’s Wedge.” Freyyala almost looked up yet she held her downward gaze as she too bowed low to the matron and remained silent. Finally, Litaelim nodded to the guards and said,
“These two will take you back to my Alcazar. Recuperate for now and I will check on you tomorrow.” With that, the three bowed once more to the matron then turned and followed the guards single file out the narrow passage.
The guards took them back down the stairs and through the passageway on the bottom leading towards what Soren assumed was Enki’s wedge. As they entered the passage, Soren immediately began to feel drowsy. Looking around she realized the others were yawning and Coratel began to drag a bit and stumble through a sleepy stupor. This passage was noticeably shorter than the one they had come through earlier, and hardly anyone was taking the path. Soren realized the drowsiness seemed to affect the others much worse than her or the guards. She looked dubiously towards one of the guards who shrugged and made a polite yawn. Towards the end Soren had to nudge Coratel in the ribs with increasing force to get him to follow. It was an undeniable relief when they passed the statue of a large bare-chested figure with three sets of eyes and feathers for hair. It’s smile looked wider than before and really too wide to be human. Outside the passage Soren felt a bit more awake. The others looked immediately more alert as well. They were aided by a cacophony of sensory input as they exited the entryway of the passage. The Entryway opened onto what one of the guards called “The Proper End” of Enki’s Wedge. Opposite them, the walls of Susura stretched into the sky. The two guards escorted the group out and into the city, pushing past dense throngs of life with obvious familiarity.
As she walked, Soren realized the architecture around her, the shops and palaces and everything else, were all cut to resemble waves or water in some way. Pillars carved to look like jets of water gushed up the passageway with deceptive stillness. They walked out into bright daylight and a lively main road. Vendors sold every type of drink and food imaginable. They lined the streets selling sweet and spicy fruit juice and piping hot pockets of bread with spiced roots cooked inside. Along another end, shops lined the streets selling bolts of cloth, shoes and medicines. As they walked, houses that looked built out of marbled coral rose around her and Soren was stunned to silence by their glittering brilliance. The Guards continued onward and the press of people parted to either side to allow them through.
As she walked, Soren also realized not a single house, not even the mansions or palaces had any doors. In fact, now that she thought about it, Soren hadn’t seen a single door since she’d entered Susura. They all did possess some form of a narrowed entryway that forced people to single file, yet not a single doorway existed. As they walked through the streets of Enki’s wedge, Soren saw sculptures of aquatic life she knew not the names of. To her left, a huge crustacean cut of dark marble held a delicately thin sheet of smoky white marble. Funnel Creeper, grapevines and succulents grew all around the garden and hung from the sheet of marble. There was just the right amount of sunlight streaming in to light the small courtyard and benches below. Under the sculpture, real water gurgled out of a fountain of pink marble carved to look like jets of water. Soren spied two small hummingbirds flitting through the streaks of sunlight before she was ushered along.
When they had finally made it to Matron Litaelim’s Alcazar, Soren was once again alert with wonder. the small sliver of city she had seen was wonderous and she couldn’t wait to explore the rest. The guards led her up sets of stairs unlike any she had seen yet. They led up to a palatial estate with finely engraved white marble lined with black marble railings. In the center of the stairs, a relief was carved in pale green jade. The stone was so translucent and polished it took Soren a moment to make out the depiction. It was of a strange ocean with odd divots and ripples in it.
The ocean ran the length of the left side of the relief and a shoreline went parallel. Soren knew immediately what she was looking at though Freyyala, Coratel, and the two guards didn’t so much as give it a second glance. Towards the top of the stairs, Soren noticed something odd in the relief. There was a strange tower she hadn’t seen during her visit to Enki’s house, and she tucked the information in the back of her mind for later. Was this tower a real place in Enki's realm? If it was, perhaps it was a place she should investigate. The group made their way into the home. As they all stepped through the narrow passage and into the grand palace Soren was once again awed. A massive bright white clam shell lay open in front of her. A pinky marble lay at its bottom and at the center lay a massive pearlescent opal.
To either side of the huge shell, stairs hugged the spacious walls of the entryway. Halfway around, the staircases crossed one another. Soren noted how much the entryway looked like Dr. Hayes house had back in Cottonwood. The guards stopped at the entryway and a small army of retainers began introducing and leading and offering food and drink, all at once. Soren managed to ask for her bedroom and she was led away from Coratel who promised,
“Check on you later.” Freyyala barely looked up as she began eating off a platter one of the retainers had brought her. As she began to ascend the stairs however she looked back at Freyyala and caught the woman watching her. she winked between bites and nodded before Soren followed her retainer up the stairs. The young woman led Soren to a narrow entry that turned ninety degrees to provide privacy, though still no door. Inside Soren found a soft bed made of cotton down. It smelled sweet and clean in the room and Soren thanked her retainer before he left. There was a marble bowl of warm and scented water filling the room with a sweet aroma. Yet Soren only had eyes for the bed. She fell into the downy white fluff with an audible sigh. Soren was asleep before she could even take off the makeshift shoes Freyyala had given her so long ago.
*
Litaelim stands next to Soren. Firmament envelops everything, around their periphery stars shine in countless multitudes. Soren neither stands nor reposes, her perspective skews and perception nauseates. She is weightless and at once impossibly huge yet insanely infinitesimal. She looks at the old woman whose face changes to a different face, then another, still it is her and Soren knows this.
“I knew your mother, once.” the old woman says,
“It was long ago, when she came for her surname trial. What was… well she was younger than you are now. It’s not been good for you living from us. I understand why she did it, but the result is the same. Avoidable pain inflected on the innocent.” The woman looks inconsolable a moment before her face changes again and she continues,
“What are your dreams, in your dreams?” She asks. Soren ponders the question in a way only possible in dreams. At first it sounds like one of her father’s riddles. Then, it begins to resonate within, dreams within dreams. Her hopes and desires as she dreams. Soren’s hopes and desires are the same as in her waking world.
“I dream of stopping Madrid.” She pauses a moment then adds,
“of freeing my… well, saving mama and papa… And saving everyone else too I guess. Madrid kills everything he comes across.” She finishes lamely.
Litaelim sighs deeply and the stars around Soren fade out to black momentarily before returning with the old woman’s breath.
“To the heart of things then. Maybe too quick for a Dream Walker.” The old woman breathes deeply and the stars dim again with her.
“What would you do to complete these goals?” She asks. Soren doesn’t think at all before saying,
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“Anything.”
Litaelim nods solemnly and looks deeply into Soren’s earnest eyes. There is a long pause and the stars pulse once more before the old woman’s face changes yet again and she says,
“I will need one Shamash.”
The bluntness shocks Soren even in her dream. Twelve Years! She thinks; as long as she’s been alive. Twelve long years. What could she do with twice her life? what could she become in twelve years? Her parents would assume her dead of course, they probably did already, she thinks.
“Twelve years?” she asks and the old woman slowly nods her head.
“We will most likely need longer than that. Yet, I’m afraid we won’t have much more time than that. Madrid is working tirelessly. He will complete his Death Glyph.”
“His, Death Glyph?” Soren interjects,
“It is what he is making out there, why he ‘kills everything’.” She waves at nothing.
“A Glyph across the entirety of this continent. He’ll use it towards a means of utter destruction. His goal is to end The Cycle.”
“The Cycle?” Soren parrots,
“Soren, there is, there is so much to know. I’ll start with this thing the rest of the world has forgotten. But please know that there is too much to know for me to tell you everything right now. We will start with The Cycle. The Cycle is the passage of time. It is much more than that silly tattoo they put on you. It is much more than your name in some secret file somewhere far to the north. Oh yes, you are known to the powers of this world Soren Pickett. You have been since birth and there are plenty that are likely working to find you as we speak, now pay attention. The time around our suns and the movements around the Twelve Houses this is The Cycle. Our movement through the cosmos is The Cycle. It is difficult as you are young but you will begin to recognize the swells and eddies of The Cycle soon enough if you haven't already. The Shifts as you call them are part of this. It will remind you of when you were this age. Yet, when it is new, The Cycle is confusing. You know some of this already. The hours of each day, how many days in a week, and how many weeks in a month. I’m sure you know the subtle shifts from week to week and even season to season.”
Soren thinks and she is sure her thoughts are being broadcast somehow.
“Yes, I know seasons change. I know the days get shorter and longer throughout the week and the weather changes from season to season. Obviously.” Litaelim chuckles and Soren still isn’t sure if she thought or spoke the words aloud. In this dream plane, it seems to be one in the same. Litaelim continues,
“This is not the only world that circles the brothers Ahura and Ahriman. There are two other worlds in this system.” Instantly Soren is transported to a space not far from the twin suns. She sees Meridian, a strange ball of oddly shaped continents and a ring of mountains around the equator. She sees for the first time just how big Meridian is and the size is staggering even in this dream that is not hers. She sees the vast forests of Sentoria and the mountain range that runs the eastern length of the continent before crossing over to the western edge of Central. Then the planet is passed and she is in the emptiness of space, only the massive twin suns visible among the vast constellations. Before they begin to approach another orb.
“We call the Suns Ahura and Ahriman yet these are the names for physical beings. The brothers the suns are named after are very real. The brothers were, as far as anyone knows, the first and only creations of the Twelve gods. We don't know why the gods created these two but we know they bestowed both with the power of every Control. Each god granted the two brothers unparalleled access to their power." Litaelim and Soren floated over the second planet, a green and red jewel in the sky.
"This is Temenos. Second of the three. We will leave it for now, if we start this story, we should start at the beginning.” Soren barely has time to take in the lush green orb in front of her. Oceans, oddly reddish in hue make for dramatic scenes along the jagged coasts. Then she is rushed again to the final planet. As they approach, even from far away Soren can see something very wrong with this world. There is no ocean, nor vegetation. Strange rusting angles slowly come into focus as they approach. Ruins cover the entire planet, destruction on an incalculable scale. Soren’s mind revolts and refuses the information before her. Yet as they descend to the surface she knows this place to be real. Before she realizes it, Litaelim has set them on the surface. All around her, the ruins blow in a fierce and rusty wind.
“This is Mora. The city world. Time is our only constant in this story Soren. Years upon untold years. This place was once a lush world. Ahura and Ahriman built it together, when they were brothers in more than just name. They worked their creative powers on this place, building and rebuilding and rebuilding again. Until finally they had a world they were both proud of. It was a place of infinite possibility. Not a paradise but as close to it as any could hope to have.” Litaelim pauses and bends down. She brushes dust off a pale stone. Soren soon realizes it isn’t a stone at all but a strangely elongated skull. Litaelim looks back at Soren pointedly.
“The people here, The Mora’s. They were created in Ahura’s image. The Mora were creators and builders, striving for creation through complexity as is Ahura’s want. For untold years, both brothers were content to watch over Mora. It was far from the City World it would one day become and many dangers remained for the newly created Mora’s. In time though, as The Mora’s learned to live and survive, the land slowly changed. The brothers worked tirelessly to ensure the world was balanced and just. Cruelty was swiftly punished, compassion and peace sought above all else. Slowly they transformed the wilderness that Mora was into a beautiful garden world. Where to thrive one only needed to live in peace. Inevitably, Ahura became restless and the brothers agreed that Ahriman would watch over The Mora’s in his brothers absence. Ever the tireless creator, this arrangement allowed Ahura the freedom to build anew and to strive for ever more complex systems. So, the elder brother left, creating Temenos and eventually Meridian. Ahriman took his charge to protect The Mora’s with utmost sincerity. He was not then the twisted thing he has become. Ahura was curious and inquisitive, ever interested in how to help The Mora’s build this empire world.” At this Litaelim looks away from the skull with disgust. The two walk along a cracked and ruined street as she continues her story.
“Eventually, as generations came and went, Mora was transformed. With Ahriman’s help, the people learned to control the planet completely. They wrested control of the land and oceans and eventually even the weather bowed to The Mora’s. Ahriman thrived during this time, working closely with the ever-developing nations of Mora. He created peace between warring factions, built bridges and developed the land. He taught all The Mora’s one language that strangers might communicate. He created a currency that neighbors and enemies alike might trade. Throughout the ages, he was their constant, their leader, their god. As time went on, and age passed beyond age, The Mora’s slowly began to want for less. As a result, they began to create less. Their inventions began to take on a consistency and uniformity that, while perfectly sensible to Ahriman, would be irreparably disturbing to his brother Ahura. When the elder brother eventually returned to Mora, he was mortified at what his younger brother had done to Mora and its people. He saw an uncreative people living in ease and comfort and found Ahriman a corrosive force on his people. For his part, Ahriman had come to see The Mora’s as his own creation even though they were created in his brothers image. He cared deeply for the people and wanted above all to protect the peace he had created. Ahura could not see the intricate design of his younger brothers creation. He did not grasp the nuance of each relationship Ahriman had developed over generations. And he could not understand the intricate work and time it had taken to convince The Mora’s to adopt a planet wide peace. Time had worked its own strange powers on the two brothers and while Ahura became convinced that The Mora’s were an evil people, his brother found a peace he had never known while under his brothers shadow.”
Litaelim leads Soren under a pass and into a long promenade ravaged by dust and winds and time. Sharp metal walls stick into the air, odd and acute, their angles ending in corroded rust. Litaelim gestures to the strange metal and the scene at large.
“When Ahura returned he had finished building Temenos yet Meridian still lay unfinished. In his rage, Ahura begged the Gods to destroy his younger brother. They were both created by the twelve after all and if anything could destroy his brother it was The Twelve. Yet, the gods disagreed as to what should be done with Ahriman. In the eyes of his older brother he had subverted and twisted his creation into something docile and impotent. However, some of the Gods saw Ahriman's actions as that of a protector and nurturer. They argued that if Ahura truly cared about the fate of the Mora's he'd of not left them to his brother to protect. The Twelve gods argued and debated and a few even fought over the fate of the younger brother. In the end, the gods were split evenly, and without consensus it was agreed he would be imprisoned on Meridian, still unfinished, until a decision could be made. Six of the twelve abandoned Ahriman and he lost their controls and all the powers they bestowed when he was sent to Meridian. Yet his true punishment still awaited.” Litaelim forces a sad smile on her lined face as she looks at Sorens expectant one.
"Ahriman was forced to watch from afar as his brother destroyed Mora and all its people one by one. Our people say this is when the two gods truly gained their distinct natures. Ahura becoming the Creator through Destruction and Ahriman the Creator through Complexity. Grief stricken and alone, Ahriman vowed to never allow his older brothers creations to thrive again.” Litaelim pauses for a moment before saying,
“That was almost eleven ages ago as far as anyone can tell.” A silence that can only be made through to contemplation of such time takes over and Soren looks around at the utter destruction surrounding them. Finally she looks turns to Litaelim as the old woman says,
“This is why Ahriman interferes with civilizations before they get too big on Meridian. Spite is a powerful emotion Soren, not the strongest, but powerful.” Another stretch of silence befalls the two. Finally, the old woman looks to Soren as she says,
“We must speak also of The Twelve Gods.”
“The Twelve?” Soren asks,
“Specifically, their Controls. For you and I, Enki has ever ruled our lives. It allows us to enter his house and to a certain extent, influence this world through our dreams and his power. But for the brothers Ahura and Ahriman, the influence of all twelve gods has ever dictated the currents of their lives.”
“Ahriman? I thought half of the gods abandoned him.” Soren says. Litaelim smiles despite herself before saying,
“We can't get into that tonight, but I promise we will. What I want to talk about is something else entirely. A prophesied thirteenth God.”
“A thirteenth?” Soren thinks/speaks. She’s never heard of such a thing.
“The Amalgam.” Litaelim almost whispers.
“It is said that at the Amalgam, The Cycles will start all over again… …or be destroyed forever.” Soren tries to understand what she is hearing but the concepts are simply too vast. Finally, she can take it no longer and asks,
“how do you know any of this? How could anyone know any of this?” Litaelim looks at her and a strange emotion Soren doesn’t understand floods through her. The old woman smiles not unkindly saying,
“Long, long ago a Dream Walker named Sen traveled to Mora in his dreams. He was the first to find this place in millenia. He spent much of his life sifting through the ruins of this world. Eventually he came across a ruin much newer and while still in poor shape, less destroyed than the rest of Mora. Here, Sen found a remarkable treasure, an Orrery that foretold the movement of all the worlds as well as the suns. Sen used the Orrery to discover the true date of the world. He also discovered a date that would eventually arise when all three worlds as well as the two suns would align perfectly. It has been theorized that this will be The Amalgam. Though whether the Amalgam is a moment in time or a person born at that time or the return of a god long lost to us, truly we do not know. It is only known that in all the ages, it has never come to pass. Many have made attempts through the years to discover if the fate of Mora was caused by the first Amalgam. But again and again, the overwhelming evidence points to Ahura as the culprit of this planets apocalypse.” They continue to walk through the destruction for a moment before Litaelim takes her hand saying,
“Come let us leave this tomb.”
The moment the old woman takes her hand, they are instantly back in the Firmament. Countless white sparks surround them and a soothing blackness envelopes all else. Soren looks to the old woman, her mind wandering back to matters of a more personal nature. She thinks of the Huella-Cull attached to her and Litaelim seems to know her thoughts and says,
“As to that new mark on your arm, yes I know of your connection. I’m afraid there is little any can do for either of you. perhaps Enki could though if he hasn't removed it by now, I doubt he will. There is more you still do not know and it is not in my nature to keep secrets yet I will first need to speak with Midnight before you and I can even begin to consider rectifying the situation." after a quiet pause the old woman says,
“I am sorry.”
Soren looks down and sees only more stars, blurred a bit through tears. She isn't really sure why she is upset and her mind is blurry too. There must be a way to remove the connection, she thinks/says. Yet as her mind settles, Soren begins to see the truth in what the old woman says. She thinks of when she threw the Ochre at Madrid. How he caught it so uncannily, as if anticipating it. It’s an She remembers the relief she felt as the Ochre left her hands and what the old woman from the caravan told her. There is something wrong with her, she knows it but wants desperately to believe in a cure. Now she understands the terrible reality, no cure but death may truly exist.
“I… I’ll have to kill it won’t I?” Soren asks,
“Pfffhhhaaa! Oh child, did you not read the book I sent you? The one the Doctor gave you?"
"The doctor? You me Dr. Hayes?"
"His mother is an old Dreamer. We've known of one another for many years. She has begun the process of well, lets just say she isn't herself lately. However she was more than happy to send 'Containing Midnight' along to you through her son. You did not read it?"
"I... I cannot read much."
"Nonsense. We don't have the time for this, you will read that book for at least two hours each day until you finish it. That will be your first lesson."
"I still haven't agreed to anything." Soren says a bit unnerved. How long had Litaelim known of her?
"Well. I'll say this, if you know nothing of Huella-Cull know this. They cannot be killed by you or me or even the Gods as far as I know. They can only return to the Void where they came from. It is literally their only option beyond remaining here. And Midnight is the oldest of them all. The Huella-Cull you're attached to is older that either brother as far as any Dreamer knows."
Soren begins to respond, her mind moving at a dizzying pace, but Litaelim cuts her off.
"There are a number of possible outcomes of this, connection. But killing a Huella-Cull simply is not possible. You may be able to return it to the void, if you can. Though that's much easier said than done.” Litaelim pauses for a long moment and Soren squirms under the weight of what the old woman says next. “It may also destroy you.”
“May?” Soren says/thinks. Litaelim sighs with her body and the stars around them seem to sigh with her. She looks at Soren as if trying to decide something before saying,
“Being possessed by a Huella-Cull is a terrible fate for any Dreamer Soren. What you and Midnight have become I believe is something very different but many will not see it that way. We are in unexplored waters here. I know better than most what the Huella-Cull are capable of and specifically what that Huella-Cull is capable of. Those are the only two outcomes that currently seem, possible to me. It is not a completely lost cause as far as I’m concerned though. Truly you have been given a gift in many ways. And loath as I am to admit it, there are worse Huella-Cull you could have been attached to."
"It doesn't feel like a gift. It feels like a terrible accident, like when I fell off the barn and broke my wrist."
Litaelim smiles kindly saying, "Inside your mind resides a space built by Enki, a God. We call it the Prism and it is one of Enki's gifts. It is strong enough to hold your dreams and-" Again Litaelim cuts herself off, before saying, "If you want to know more, begin reading 'Containing Midnight'. That is all I will say about Prisms for now. I have spent much of my life uncovering the secrets of these Prisms. If you want to walk that path, you will need to learn the basics first.” And Litaelim pauses for a moment here, and Soren feels guilt emanating off the woman before she sighs with resignation. As if speaking to herself she says,
“This is the best possible outcome. Once I teach you to use your Prism, I believe you will be a powerful force in this world. Perhaps powerful enough to contend with Ahriman, Madrid whatever he's calling himself these days.”
Question after question flits through Soren’s mind like hummingbirds,
“Other Dreamers have theorized… about me?” she says/thinks. Litaelim hesitates before saying,
“There have been many prophesies about a powerful Dreamer yes. It is only natural. Every age has a paragon. If you are that paragon, by no mean a given, at the least it means some people have the True Date of the world correct, and some do not. That fact alone makes you a powerful fulcrum in this world. We-” Litaelim pauses again cutting herself off. Looking at Soren’s face, she sighs again saying,
“You don’t really know what you are do you?” Soren looks back into the deep colorful iris’ of the woman. They seem to shift from green to blue to brown to purple and on and on. Soren looks down saying,
“A freak.”
“HA!” Litaelim says, there is no humor in it yet Soren’s anger flares above the woman’s own emotions.
“I AM!” Soren says, her voice quivering a bit the anger.
“Every single one of my Controls is in Enki’s house! Every. Single. One. But I can’t even control my own Dreams let alone the dreams of others. I should be able to travel the world in the blink of an eye and dream impossible things into existence, shouldn’t I? Well!? I couldn't even hold on to the Ochre! I can’t do any of this. I am a freak, my Controls are useless and- and I am useless.”
“Soren. Enki's prophesied chosen is destined to shape Meridian anew. Their will is destined to bring us something wonderful, something new. Our unfinished world is old, older than you or I could possibly comprehend. We've been living in an unfinished world for ages upon ages. I don’t think this was supposed to be. Something terrible happened long, long ago. Someone’s plan be it Ahura or Ahriman went awry in the distant past. I think perhaps, Ahriman is not the only prisoner of Meridian. Yet, he has been here since the beginning and he will do anything, look at me child, anything, to end his suffering.”
Soren can’t bring herself to say anything and instead feels tears streak her cheeks. Long moments pass before Litaelim speaks again,
“Soren, there is a way to know if you are Enki's chosen, but it will take a long, long time. longer than the twelve years I've asked for. I have no doubt you will become a very powerful Dreamer. But there have been powerful Dreamers before, Enki's chosen is something else entirely.” Her face changes as a pause lingers in the airless void.
“Will you give me the twelve years I need?” Litaelim finally asks. Soren doesn’t have to think for very long,
“Yes.” She says with a finality that reminds them both of Soren’s mother. She is no longer crying. Determination replaces her fear and shame and her mind zero’s in to a needle point of resolve. Litaelim is taken aback even in this, her own Dream Plane. Soren’s sudden use of self-control shocks the old Dreamer. For a moment she sees a flicker of the woman Soren is to become and the power that rests just behind the young woman’s eyes scares Litaelim. She recovers as quickly as the moment passes.
“That is well. For now, I’d like you to rest. Soon, we will begin.” She looks sharply at Soren saying,
“You will train while you wake and sleep. For now, a dreamless sleep I think, it will be your last for a long, long time. Now, I have a few others to visit this evening and the byways of Enki’s waters are not always clear, even for me.”
“Just one more thing,” Soren asks looking directly at Litaelim before continuing without permission.
“Can you tell my mother and father I’m alright? I don’t want them to worry about me.” Litaelim meets Soren’s gaze with intent and says, “When it is time, you may see them yourself. In fact, that will be a good incentive for your training. Until then, worry not. I have spoken with Yalina and she knows you are safe.” With that Litaelim breaths in deeply and the spots of white light around them fade as if the old woman is sucking up their brilliance. Soon Soren is pitched into void and all is senseless abandon.
*