Atop the hill leading down to the sands, the central head of the Chimaera roared, quaking Tuya’s bones, shaking the trees at its back and the dead ones on the beach, blowing hot breath scented with meat and blood. Within the dead tree that moved over evil water, Tuya clung to the farawaylander sitting beside her. The woman held her too, readying her spear as she shouted something in her language, her mind giving off the same terror felt by every consciousness bearing witness to the monstrosity headed toward them. Men holding weird sticks tried to tame the water, to push them off the sands and away from the Hollows.
Captain Yaha gripped Tuya’s shoulder fiercely as desperation dispersed from her consciousness. “Can you free it?”
Dare she believe in such a thing happening? The tamers oft intimidated khorota with the threat of beasts. Monsters like the kalagoth or the yasmar were familiar, but none were as prominent as the Ezen’s favored beast. This creature conquered pretenders and sundered their old stones with unparalleled capacity for destruction and death. Three heads, each massive and large enough to be paragons of pain on their own, merged into one horrific body larger than a handful of the biggest bears and greater than the sum of its terrible parts. The beast was a lifeform perfected in the worst way, a creature as beautiful as it was hideous. The only thing that could match the chimaera was the man lurking within those three heads and the only one who equaled Gurgaldai was the only person in the world Tuya could control.
“I will try my best,” she told Captain Yaha, putting her hand on hers.
Captain Yaha squeezed Tuya’s hand, emitting her gratitude with her touch as much as Tuya could sense it with her mind strength. “That is all I ask. If you can even slow it down, maybe we can kill it.”
The farawaylander men jumped out of the desecrations to help push them away from the beach while every weird stick within was used to tame the water. At a foreign word from Captain Yaha, women leapt to the shore and readied their weapons. Tuya saw beyond them, her little lightmaker eyes fixed upon the three-headed tyrant, thinking of the boy unlike any other and exactly like every other within the creature. If she could match him, if she could equal him, Captain Yaha could defeat the chimaera, and she could be gone from this place of monsters wearing the bodies of beasts. She chose to believe, even as terror gripped her like the arms of a kalagoth.
The chimaera’s central head, the lion, roared once more, before galloping down the hill, each stride covering many, many body lengths. Tuya’s mind rushed out to meet the chimaera like a spear hurled by the strongest arm. Yet, instead of piercing into the consciousness of the creature, she hit an impenetrable wall of stone, cracking the sharp point of her will. Tuya slammed into it, repeatedly trying to plunge into the depths of the creature’s psyche, only to be repelled with no progress. Screaming within and without, she pressed harder, giving everything she had to merge her mind with the chimaera. Let me free you!
The creature refused to grant her audience. I am greater, Chimaera returned, the thought pounding into her skull from several wills. She could not determine where the chimaera ended and Gurgaldai began, fused they were into the ultimate weapon of the Hollows. The creature exalted in its link with Gurgaldai, becoming more than it ever was before, perfected through the bond with the Ezen.
You cannot free one who chooses to be one with me, Chimaera projected. You have fought well, Tuya. Be proud that you proved yourself greater than the others. Now, behold, the might of the Chimaera!
Beast and man expelled her with phenomenal power. Tuya was blasted back, her mind crashing into her body, rattling her skull, sending her to her back, spilling over the desecrated wood within which she rode.
Captain Yaha shouted and women leapt into the air, wind carrying them to the shore. Men rolled out of the tree skeletons and ran along the water, some rushing to fight and others pulling the abominations further out into the evil water. It was all Tuya could do to watch as her hope dwindled.
Storms crackled upon the ram head’s horns, rising toward a crescendo until it split the air, streaking toward the evil water. The water burst with colors, dazzling and deadly, accompanied with the screams of the men in the water. They writhed as their dark skin charred with lines that looked like trees when all the leaves fell dead. The storm continued to burn them, paralyze them, until they burst like berries squeezed in a tamer’s mighty hand. Naught but empty husks remained of these men that smiled at her.
The few men still in the desecrations howled out their rage, dashing over the evil water toward those fighting on the beach, leaving Tuya alone to behold Chimaera’s might. They fought well, Captain Yaha synchronizing their assault, spears plunging from the sky, crashing into the beast’s back and weird rock claws scraping against serpentine flesh. Alas, none of their blows slowed Chimaera and even these warriors who took to the sky and moved like forces of nature could not outrun the beast.
The serpent head was as long as many hollows were tall and its scaly body was thick enough to swallow plenty of the holed trees. It thrashed about slamming into the farawaylanders, knocking them over, coiling around them until they suffocated and snapped apart, and biting into them with fangs larger than Tuya. The ram head gored into the dark folk, before they exploded from its crackling storms. The lion head’s roars stunned those close enough to hear, its maw swallowing several farawaylanders at once, leaving behind bloody stumps where good people used to be. One woman leapt atop the lion head, her spear breaking on the top of the creature’s hide. Chimaera threw the woman from its back, slammed her to the ground, and stomped her into the sands, crushing every bone in her body with its massive paw, as it devoured a screaming man trying to protect his beloved.
Chimaera was unstoppable. It rumbled through the farawaylander defenses, claiming the evil waters, its scaly serpentine tail thrashing at any who tried to get close. The giant body splashed through the water toward Tuya, three sets of Gurgaldai’s sky-colored eyes focused on her. Tuya froze, hopeless, helpless, lost. All good things came to an end. Always. This man would have her and he would be furious that she hoped to leave. He would take her to the Spire for this and leave her trapped within forever. Nobody could protect her from him. Tuya’s life was over, not even a full morning after it began again.
Captain Yaha landed beside her, the desecration shaking from the force of her arrival. She seized Tuya, tossed her on her shoulder, and leapt over the head of the beast, her legs barely avoiding the lion’s teeth, her body soaring over the lashing of the serpent, landing where the water met the sand, both colored by the blood of the fallen.
“I cannot free him,” Tuya cried. “Chimaera wants to be tamed.”
Captain Yaha stroked Tuya’s cheek as Chimaera obliterated the abominations in the water. “This is not your fault, Tuya. Stay safe. Hide. The Sixty-Four do not surrender to tyrants and monsters. We will kill this creature yet, and we will go home.” Captain Yaha rose to her full, towering height, and roared much like the lion. The surviving farawaylanders rallied around her, forming ranks and staring headfirst at the avatar of death returning to the beach.
Tuya ran and she cried, knowing that they would all die and there was nothing she could do to make that pain smaller for them or for herself. There was no end to her pain and no way to stop Gurgaldai and Chimaera. This was her life, there was no escape. She was Chosen.
The farawaylanders fought with courage, with skill Tuya could only dream of possessing. Were they to fight every tamer in the surrounding regions, Tuya believed they could prevail with her protection. Yet, they fought an enemy who transcended the powers of all men except one. Bodies half-devoured, charred from skybursts, with faces twisted from poison and eternally etched with excruciating pain, fell upon the forsaken sand. The men were cast aside, killed with no mercy. The women were killed too, though many were left broken upon the sands, clinging to the last vestiges of their lost lives.
Tamers returned to share in Chimaera’s glory. Atop the hill, they chanted, “GER-GULL-DIE!” Worse, they came down in droves, seizing women and dragging them up the hill to be raped.
Captain Yaha’s spear ripped through flesh and chased them off before Chimaera crashed toward her. Leaping high, roaring, “Olono!” she evaded the serpent’s reach, plunged, not unlike a skyburst, and buried her spear into an eye of the ram head. The monster growled, lower-pitched than anything Tuya ever heard. Captain Yaha leapt aside, leaving her spear in the creature, before the lion head could tear into her.
Captain Yaha dashed toward another spear and, for a moment, Tuya believed in her. That inextinguishable hope flared like the big lightmaker breaking through the raingivers. Captain Yaha was invincible, she could stab each eye, blind this monster, and lead Tuya away from here. They could hide and move through the Hollows, lurking in dark places where Tuya could light the way. It might not be easy, but they would find their way home, to a place where Gurgaldai would never think to find her, to a place where there were no tamers, no chimaeras, no days like this one where everything was taken away.
Hope was a rare thing in the Hollows, and for good reason.
Chimaera anticipated Captain Yaha, the serpent arrived at the spear first, slammed into Captain Yaha and threw her to the sands. Captain Yaha rolled, first from the blow, then she continued downhill to escape the next attack. It did not matter, Chimaera was too fast. The serpent caught Captain Yaha as she vaulted into the air, sending her crashing to the sands where the evil water met the shore.
Tuya screamed out her name, pleading with Gurgaldai to stop, knowing how this story ended but unable to accept the end. When had this not happened before? How many times must she live through this pain? Zaya, Sarnai, and now Captain Yaha of the Sixty-Four. Tuya reached out toward Chimaera, pulsing with desperation and need. Please, Chimaera. Let her live.
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You care about this heathen?
Tuya’s instinct was to conceal, to never let a tamer see that she cared for another. She slumped down, physically and psychically. She made herself small, trying to hide her heart.
When will you learn, my Chosen? You cannot hide from me. I sense the love you give to this one who breaks the blessings and twists them into abominations, who has the ambition to sneak into our domain, who dares to steal away my Chosen. Chimaera’s anger tore through Tuya’s mind, her head a storm of pain. It subsided nearly as fast as it came on, but not before it drove her to her knees and left her head in shambles like old stones smashed by Aldar.
She knew it was pointless to plead, to cling to the belief that she would not lose everything. When had the futility of something ever stopped her before? Knowing it was stupid, it was stubborn, it was refusal of truth, she still tried her best to make pain smaller. Please, Gurgaldai! She will make me stronger!
Curiosity bordering on bewilderment passed from Chimaera to Tuya, turning into intrigue and then a bright, burning glee. I may yet let her live, if you are strong enough to keep her alive. Show me your power, Chosen!
Chimaera hesitated, restricting his mind from Tuya’s awareness, and refusing to deal the killing blow. Captain Yaha pushed against the sands, but sank right in, unable to rise from this fall. No more did Captain Yaha try to rise to her feet, no more did she leap into the skies, no more would she protect Tuya.
Tuya reached out to her, hoping to give her strength to survive this. I am here, Captain Yaha of the Sixty-Four. Let me in and I will do what I can to make your pain smaller.
Nothing can ever take away my pain, the woman returned. Nor do I deserve your kindness. Still, Captain Yaha let her in.
Captain Yaha’s dying thoughts were of agonizing regret and unworthiness. It had been her to persuade Sultana Biba Mahagan to allow the Sixty-Four to embark on this expedition, it had been her to believe that they might find friendly life in the Celegan Hollows, it had been her who commanded the ship, and led them right to this forsaken shore, into the grasp of kalagoth, tamers, and a chimaera. It had been her to do all of this, with the hope that it would fill the hole within her, that it would etch her name in the history of the Isles lest she be forgotten. Yaha was a failure, a miserable, worthless, failure who got sixty-three good Mahagans killed just to prove her purpose. She did not deserve to live. She deserved this pain.
Tuya wept. Nothing and everything about Yaha’s pain was familiar to her. Her own pain seeped into the link. Memories of Sarnai and Khula, of a broken girl hiding in the corner of her hollow waiting to die, of sitting on the edge of the cliffs looking down at her death, feeling these same things. Then, Tuya compounded her own pain, even as Yaha did the same, blaming themselves for the pain the other now endured. Their thoughts flowed as one, their feelings aligned, as they shared with each other a final farewell. I am sorry I could not protect you.
Yaha closed the link and chose to lie on the sand and accept her fate. Chimaera stood on the beach, watching Tuya, its own mind sealed behind the most powerful of walls. Tuya looked at Yaha, at Chimaera, and looked within herself. She was tired of always losing, of always feeling not good enough, of being broken. Of all the times she built herself back together, none felt so crushing as this breaking. From feeling like herself, from feeling hope, from feeling strong, to this absolute desolation where she was a failure and nothing could ever be right in this world and she would never be powerful enough to change anything.
Tamers chanted Gurgaldai’s name and dragged the surviving women into a pile behind Chimaera, already hitting them and ripping off their not-hides. Tuya hated them, hated Gurgaldai and his ruthlessness, hated this life. Once again, she decided that she would die. Tuya went to Yaha, wrapped her arms around her, and chose this time to go with Zaya, with Sarnai, with Yaha.
Yaha begged her to run and Chimaera roared at them, the force of the breath nearly blowing Tuya out to the evil water as she clung to Yaha for the strength and courage to die. He roared again, this time Yaha seizing her tight to keep her from slipping away. Again, and again, and again, Chimaera roared. The creature towered over her, the serpent slithering along the shore and hissing in her ear, the ram crackling with skybursts and bleating, the lion opening its maw and spilling hot, horrid breath into her nose. Tuya wanted to run, to hide, but she held to Yaha, knowing there was no escape and choosing to let her running and hiding end here on this beach where she failed for the last time. Let Gurgaldai see how unworthy she was, let him end her.
The serpent slithered on her back, scaly and slimy, the lion lowered its maw enveloping Tuya and Yaha in a mouth full of massive, sharp teeth. She closed her eyes, clung to Yaha, and accepted the end. Yet, he played with her, letting the fear build and the doubts fester.
The ground shook and Tuya shook with it, daring to open her eyes. Chimaera sat back on its haunches, watching her with those beautiful eyes. Gurgaldai’s consciousness pressed against her walls, his thought barely perceptible. Cowards do not breed conquerors and you are no coward, my Chosen. Claim this heathen for yourself and make her strength your own.
“I claim her,” Tuya said, gripping Yaha in her arms, shielding her from Gurgaldai, from all the tamers already staking their claims on the captured farawaylander women.
“What are you doing?” Yaha whispered, eyes wide, face covered in evil water, pulling on Tuya’s hides to keep her from rising.
“Protecting you.”
“Why?”
Tuya inhaled, wondering that same question. Was she not just prolonging her pain? Dying would take away that pain, but it would not fill the hole within her, nor would it fill the hole within Yaha, and if she did not endure this pain, all the holes would remain in every soul in this land. “Because there is still more we can do, Captain Yaha of the Sixty-Four. This world is not done with you, and I will need you before it is done with me.”
Yaha clenched her jaw as she unclenched her fingers.
Tuya stared into the eyes of the lion head, seeing Gurgaldai lurking behind them. She was no lion, but, she did her best, as she always did. “I claim her!”
The tamers rushed forth, open-mouthed and angry, ready to bludgeon her with their clubs and fists. Chimaera stomped upon the sands, and the tamers stalled, kneeling to their Ezen. His thought pushed out far and wide, touching every mind upon the beach and beyond into the Hollows. TEST THE POWER OF MY CHOSEN! TAKE HER CLAIM FROM HER IF YOU CAN!
The horde remained bent, unworthy eyes down upon the sands. One tamer came forward. One Tuya knew well and wished had been among those killed by the farawaylanders. One who sought to dominate her, to claim her for himself ever since he first saw her. Makhun stepped beside Chimaera and sneered at Tuya, that same sneer that came before Sarnai’s breaking, before he stomped on little Khula, before so much cruelty over the seasons. This man had been a boulder crushing her for many, many seasons. Tuya glared back at him, determined to toss him into the evil water like the small, tiny pebble he was. “I claim her,” she repeated, daring to meet the eye of the monster she hated most.
Makhun came for her, his mind lashing out toward her like so many branches that whipped her so many times. She slapped it away with her strength, easy as a tamer slaps a helpless little girl, steps on her, and tells her she is worth less than the dirt she lies upon. His sneer turned down on his ugly head and his eyes bulged with fury that she dared defy him after all the lessons he taught her. His mind stormed toward her, the smoke of his consciousness billowing around her again and again. Tuya blew it away as easily as the wind blows out the tiny flames of a little fire.
Makhun roared and came at her with everything he had, like a fly buzzing into the spider’s web. Tuya lowered her walls and let him in. He plunged into her mind, a vengeful little boy with weak arms and tiny nails scratching at a great wall of the hardest rock Celegana ever created. Tuya wrapped around him, squeezing on his little mind like a little girl in the mud with his foot on her chest. He roared within the link, threatening her with pain, with killing every woman in the region, with making her suffer as he devoted his life to breaking her over and over again.
For all his hatred, he was the tiniest of pebbles caught in the greatest of flowing waters. She strained his mind for every vulnerable thought hidden deep within, and drowned him in his worst memories. Makhun was a small, small boy being screamed at by his trainers in the Spire for failing to form links. They beat him, gave him to the bigger, stronger boys to be used as the target for their taming, for their anger, for their lust. He was the whiny “khorota” that would do anything to please his master, searching desperately for a single scrap of sympathy or praise. Season after season of torment at the hands and minds of those bigger and stronger, endless physical and verbal humiliation, in their fierce competition for the approval of their elders. Makhun persisted, hating himself, hating his peers, hating his masters, hating everything.
The first time Makhun overpowered the link of one of his tormentors he forced the bigger boy to mutilate himself until the masters whipped them both to the brink of death, let him recover, and beat him right back to the border of life, time after time. They pushed him until he could tame near every one of his former tormenters, sending him out into the Hollows only when he challenged his masters. Hate grew in him like a sickness that never healed, following him into the Hollows where the only time he felt alive was hurting others, making them feel small, inflicting upon others his misery.
The more people admired a person, the more Makhun tried to make them hurt, tried to make them small, tried to make them feel like the little boy in the Spire, tamed, beaten, and raped. Underneath it all, the little boy remained, certain that no matter how many times he triumphed he would always be puny Makhun. He chose to torment Tuya because, deep down, he knew she was the strongest, the one who would not break, the one who continued to help others and be kind no matter how many times he tried to make her into him.
Tuya drowned his mind with his worst fear, treating him like he was small, insignificant, meaningless, weak, pathetic. Makhun’s water dripped down his legs and he begged her to stop.
You did this, tamer. You did this.
Tuya remembered the mercy he gave Sarnai, Khula, and every little girl he pleasured in dominating. She shoved Makhun’s body to the sands, stepped on his stomach, and pushed down as hard as she could. Her mind strangling his, paralyzing his puny body as it stretched to its limits, close to snapping and breaking like a twig beneath her colossal might. One more push, and she could ruin his mind, leaving him lost in his own body without a thought of his own. She held him there, his incoherent pleas, his immense fear, flowing to her in his helplessness. The hateful part within her wanted him to be gone forever. To end him once and for all and bring a close to the pain he created in this world.
She pushed down on his chest with her sandy foot, wanting to make sure he could never hurt her or another girl again. Perhaps it was pity for the poor child that was, in the beginning, just like every other. Perhaps it was a desire to prove she was truly better than him, that he could not make her the hateful creature he was. Perhaps it was that she no longer feared him. Perhaps, as is usually the case, it was all of the above.
Tuya released his mind, and set her feet firmly back on Celegana’s ground. She trembled with strength, like when Celegana shook the earth. “You are nothing, Makhun, nothing but a scared little man who makes himself feel big by inflicting pain. You are the pebble and I am the rain washing you away. You will leave the Hollows and never return.” Tuya turned her back to the insignificant creature drenched in his own water, trembling and sobbing in the sand like so many of his victims. She reached out her hand to Captain Yaha of the Sixty-Four.
The dark woman staggered to her feet and took Tuya’s hand. Tuya refused to look at Chimaera or the tamers on the beach, along the hill, and into the Hollows. For once, her eyes were held high, refusing to acknowledge those she would never submit to again.