Episode Six - Vengeance and Hunger

 

Part Seventeen
A Witch of White Mountain

It didn’t take long for the Boy to catch up with Enin. For a time the two rode beside one another in silence. Most of the refugees abandoned the road and started collecting in camps along the side of it. Some even began to pitch tents and settle down as the sky grew black.

The Boy gazed up at the starless sky as his paksi’s taloned feet crunched through the patches of dried grass that dotted the road.

As they approached the tree line, Enin spoke.

“That night was starless too,” he said.

“What night?” the Boy asked, his voice soft and tired.

“The night they burned my mother.”

The Boy’s eyes widened. He’d never known his own mother. They said she’d died giving birth to him and his father went soon after. Stabbed in prison. Saiku Lin was the closest thing he’d ever had to real family.

“Why would they do such a thing to her?”

“She was a witch of White Mountain.” said Enin.

“I’ve never heard of that place.”

“It no longer exists.”

“How?” asked the boy, “How can a mountain cease to be?”

“It happens slowly at first,” said the sorcerer. “The weather gets warmer. The storms come more frequently. Then over time the sea levels rise...little by little. After many many years it becomes more sudden. Floods, devastation. Whole cities wiped away from the world.”

“How old ARE you?”

“Older than any place or person you have ever read of in your history books,” said Enin.

“How do you know I liked to read?”

“Lin told me. That is why I requested you be the one. All of the other children in her...service were incurious. I needed someone I could...see myself in.”

“Why? All you needed me to do was drive a cart and move some barrels. That’s not exactly the work of a scholar.”

“I wanted someone I could talk to. At the end. I need to tell my story. Some of it at least. Tell it to someone with the capability to understand.”

“Why a child? If you want someone to talk to, there are plenty of adults who read.”

“But there are precious few who listen.”

They rode along in silence for a while until the boy said, “Tell me more about your mother.”

“Her name was Pavitra. Her hair and skin were as white as snow. Her eyes the color of amaranth. She taught me to ride the giant white elk which roamed the forest. Like her, they are long gone from this world.”

“Who burned her?”

“They came in boats, up the Bear River.”

“The Bear River?”

“It was a river, and many bears lived near it. Names were simpler in those days. We called things what they were. But that river is gone too. Lost in the floods that created what is now called the Bay of White Whales. The floods that drowned the White Mountain, and many other places.”

“So someone came up the river into your home in the mountains?”

“Yes. Black riverboats with red sails. Raiders from the south. They slaughtered our village in the night and set fire to our houses.”

“That’s terrible.”

“We were a village of maybe one hundred people. The raiders were twenty and seven. My mother fought against them with her spears and her wicked eye.”

“Wicked eye?”

“She could look at a man and send him to his doom. Many who faced her took their own lives. But on that day, she was captured and blindfolded before she could slay any of the marauders. With her strapped to a pyre in the center of the village, the rest of my people lost their strength, their will to fight.”

“What did you do?” asked the Boy.

“I hid. I was a child. Half as small as you are now. I couldn’t wield a spear or work spells. So I covered myself inside a broken old cart. I heard her scream out my name on that starless night when the only light came from the fire that burned my mother to death.”

“How did you survive?”

“The raiders took all of our animals and children. They murdered every man and woman. The cart in which I hid had two busted wheels. It was no use to anyone, so they ignored it. Into the night the screams rang out until finally all was silent. I stayed hidden, quietly weeping under a pile of sacks and tattered furs. When the sun finally rose, and my tears had run out, I dared to venture into the center of the village. There I saw my mother, burned beyond recognition, but I knew it was her. Painted on her charred remains was a mark, a handprint of red ochre. I saw the same red hand painted throughout the village.”

“Her killers left a message.” said the boy.

“They pillaged the countryside. My home was one of many destroyed by the Red Hand. I wandered along the river for days before coming to another village that had already been ravaged. Unlike my home, an entire family had survived the attack there. They took me into their home and fed me. I stayed with them for ten years as they rebuilt what the marauders had taken away.”

“So you found a new family?”

“I suppose I did. But I never truly felt at home. My caretakers were pleasant enough and kept me clothed and fed in exchange for my labor. But I never let go of the rage at the loss of my mother. One day I journeyed down the Bear River to sell some grain at the market in a larger town. At the boathouse I saw it.”

“A black riverboat with red sails?” asked the Boy.

“Indeed. I lost my head in that moment. I took the oar of my boat and found three men in black tunics with red handprints on the back, arguing with the keeper over the price to dock there. My face not my own, I brought the blade of the oar down. Three times I struck. Each blow split a man to the bone with wounds deep and neat.”

The boy looked at Enin with eyes the size of wagon wheels as the man concluded his tale.

“I fell to the dock crying my mother’s name. When I came back to my own mind, I found myself in a prison cell.”

Part Eighteen
The Wolf of the Woods

Tula strode confidently down the dark path. The canopy of branches blocked out the dim light of the burning city. Before long she could not even see the shapes of the trees that loomed around her.
Still, she continued one step at a time, trusting the path beneath her feet would continue to support her.
Step by step she plodded into the black night, her arms raised in front of her to prevent walking directly into a tree.
Unfortunately, this did not help when her foot caught on a protruding tree root.
Tula tumbled face first into the ground, landing hard on her arms, spraining one of her wrists.
“Stupid.” she whispered to herself, “Stumbling blind through pitch darkness and for what? Your pride?”
She sat in the dark for a long while, nursing her wrist. The hard ground grew cold. Tula began to sob uncontrollably.
“Why?” she asked no one. “Why is life like this? What kind of world is this where a man can take what he wants from me? From everyone? Take my heart? Demolish a city in an instant? Why is no one able to stop this? How can one man destroy everything so easily and callously?”
“Men are always like that.” said a voice resonating from within her chest.
“What?” Tula gasped.
“I said men are always like that. Doing what they want. Taking what they like.”
“It’s you, isn’t it?” Tula asked, “The little bird...the bird he put there. You spoke to me before. In the firestorm.”
“Yeah, it’s me. How many other talking birds do you know?”
“I-I..It’s just...how? How are you talking? How am I hearing you?”
“Look kid. I don’t understand it any better than you do. One minute I was sleeping in my nest. The next thing I know I’m stuck in a cage and my head is full of thoughts and words and...feelings.”
“When did this start?”
“Well, I woke up and little by little the words started to come to me. And the feelings...I think they’re your feelings.” said the Bird.
“Mine?”
“Yeah. I think I feel your feelings.”
“But what does-” the girl began, but stopped short as she saw a light within the wood.
A reddish glow flickered and moved in the distance between the trees. At first she thought it was fire, but it meandered and bobbed around the forest like a living thing.
Tula and the Bird stood in silent shock as the source of the light approached.
It loomed in the periphery of her vision, a shape that she could not quite perceive, as if her mind rejected it.
At first glance she mistook it for a mere beast, but its form was wrong—its limbs bent too many ways, its spine coiled unnaturally, and its silhouette never quite held steady.
It appeared to be wrapped in red, sinewy strands, like exposed muscle, but the texture was all wrong, pulsing and shifting as though it were woven from liquid hunger and old blood.
Where its head should be, there was only a vast, tooth-ringed maw, gaping and yawning like an open wound. No eyes, no snout, just a void lined with razor fangs, stretching far deeper than its form should allow.
“Does it see us?” asked the Bird.
The thing’s forequarter spun around toward Tula.
The thing twitched, lurched, and snapped forward in an unnatural way.
“I think it does now, thanks to you.” scolded the girl.
“No-no-nooo.” said the Bird. “No one can hear me but you! I’m pretty sure.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure this beast can hear you too.” said Tula, stepping away as far as she could, until her back pressed against a tree.
“I am no beast.” a voice leaked out of the maw, “I am hunger given form. I hunt without need. Without mercy.”
The red glow that surrounded the monster lit the forest path around Tula as the thing lunged for her.
It closed the distance between them in an instant. Tula flinched, but the thing did not strike. Instead, it stopped abruptly and tilted its neck, like a dog does when confused, except without a head the expression was terrifying.
Leaning close over Tula, drool oozing out of a gullet large enough to swallow her, the thing spoke “You...hollow child! I come to devour, but find the cupboard is bare!”
She shrunk away from the creature, eyes clamped shut. The bark of the tree, digging into her back as she cried, “No. Whatever you are, I don’t want this. Please. Stop.”
“I cannot stop.” seethed the voice from within the unholy thing. “I will not stop. I do not wish to stop.”
An appendage of meat poked its iron claw at the Bird.
“If I cannot eat your heart, I will eat this...morsel.”
The Bird fluttered in her chest, trapped against the metal bars.
In a flash the creature cut open the cage with its sharp talon. A wet tongue extruded from the maw, licking at the hole in Tula’s chest.
Tula felt the life pop out of her as the thing pulled the bird into its black hole of a mouth.
As her breath drained away, she spoke the only name she could think of.
“Kokaibel.”

Part Nineteen
A Light in the Forest

The Boy listened to Enin’s story of his youth. He’d never had a family to lose. Not that he could remember, anyway. All he’d ever known was the streets of Aurelia. Paol and Stik, and Saiku Lin were not particularly kind to him, but they taught him how to survive. He thought about Lin for a while. What had become of her in the burning city? She was a smart and resourceful woman, who controlled half of the crime in the city. Surely she would have managed to escape and find shelter. Perhaps when this was over he could return to Aurelia. Perhaps she would take him in once more. Assuming that the city still existed when this was over. Assuming the world did.
As the pair reached the point where the road met the forest, they saw the light of a bonfire burning off in the wood. A narrow footpath separate from the main road veered in the direction of the fire light.
“Looks as if someone is making camp there,” said the Boy.
Enin squinted his eyes in the direction of the glow. For a brief moment the Boy thought he saw an expression of recognition, perhaps even fear in the old man’s eyes.
“No.” said Enin, “It is...something else.”
“Should we investigate it? Someone may be in need of assistance.”
“Our path is this way,” said Enin as he continued along the main road. “We are to go through the forest and into the swamp to find the second pillar.”
“Second pillar?” asked the Boy. “What is that? Why are we seeking it?”
“There are four...or rather three pillars that keep the world intact. Without them, the great dark will swallow all.”
“And you wish to do away with them, then. Is that it?”
“Yes. That is my purpose. To end all things.”
“Why?” asked the boy.
“Why?” Enin repeated. “Why?” he said as if it were the silliest question in the world. “It is the only way.”
“The only way to do what?”
“The only way for me to die.”
“That can’t be true.” the Boy said. “Are you really that powerful? The only thing that can kill you is the end of all the world? Do you truly believe that?”
“It is not a matter of belief, child.” said Enin. “I am deathless. I made sure of it long ago. Deals were made. Tears were sold. Blood was spilled. I have watched mountains drown, and continents grow. I have seen history unfold time and time again. It always ends the same way. And I am sick of it.”
“Don’t we get any say in all of this?” the Boy rebuked him. “Don’t I get any say? I am part of this world. If you truly mean to end it all...just for your own sake, then you need to defend your reasoning better than ‘I am sick of it.’”
“I do not sound like that,” said Enin.
“That is what I said.” came a dreadful voice from the woods.
Enin spun around at the sound of that voice. That buzzing, whining, scratching voice.
“Shade!” spoke the sorcerer, “Show yourself!”
Kokaibel the cacodaemon slipped silently forward, his feet not moving, like a floating shadow filled with glittering lights.
“Fallen one,” said Enin, “I am graced by your presence.”
“Yes.” Kokaibel said, “Yes you are.”
“What brings you here to this wood on this dying world?”
“My reasons for being here are my own, mage. It seems that you and I have something in common, though. We both seem to have a habit of attracting rude children.”
“What are you?” asked the Boy, in awe of the demon before him, shocked by the very shape of Kokaibel, the confusion of the demon’s existence, like a void on legs.
“Boy!” commanded Enin, “This is Kokaibel of the Stars, Fourth Watcher, Jewel of the Sky, a direct creation of the undivided wholeness.”
“If you seek to curry my favor with regal epithets, sorcerer, save your breath. I am not one to be charmed. And as for the undivided wholeness...let us say that we parted ways long long ago.”
“Are you some sort of angel, then?” asked the Boy.
“Oh I like this one!” said Kokaibel, “I feel as if he truly SEES me. Yes child. I am...or rather was, an angel. But now I am between positions as it were.”
“Pay no attention to the Boy.” said Enin, “Have you come to guide the way? Are you sent by the dark to lead me to the second pillar?”
“Oh dear me.” Kokaibel chortled. “I don’t do that sort of thing anymore. The old messenger job didn’t suit me. But the second pillar is your destination, you say? That explains everything. The firestorm that released me...you have already broken the pillar of the firmament, haven’t you?”
Enin brandished the black blade and said, “Yes. I destroyed it with this.”
“Oh that is unsettling.” said Kokaibel, “You carry a piece of...him.”
“Him?” said the Boy.
“Yes. My...uncle is perhaps the best word to describe it. Your master wields a sliver of his...essence.”
“He’s not my master!”
Enin grew visibly angered. “If you’re not here for me, then why are you here? Do you mean to thwart my desire in some way?”
“Oh dear little immortal.” said Kokaibel, “Not everything is about you. Go on. March toward the pillar of the Earth. Play your little game. I am not concerned with that. I walk this plane in search of my own desires.”
“I find it a strange coincidence,” said Enin, “that an Archon of the heavens crosses my path not minutes after I spy the Crimson Wolf burning off in the woods.”
“Crimson Wolf? That wretched thing?” said the demon, turning his gaze toward the glow the boy had mistaken for a bonfire.
“Oh my.” Kokaibel said, “Well isn’t that a treat? She’s about to be gobbled up. Just like I said.”
“Who? What?” said the Boy, trying to see what the demon described, but his mortal eyes could not pierce the forest.
“My little friend.” said Kokaibel, “She seems to have gotten herself into a bit of trouble.”
“Your little friend?” asked Enin, truly perplexed for the first time in quite a while.
“The girl with a bird for a heart.” the demon said. “She’s calling my name now. Isn’t that rich?”
 

Episode Five - Power and Innocence

Part Fourteen
A Demon’s Bargain

“Girl,” said the Muck Witch, “I beg you not to listen to this beast.”

Tula glanced back at the two of them, the broken woman on the ground with her hair full of smoke and the demon hovering over her like a person-shaped hole in the fabric of the world.

“I crackle with power, Tula Petek.” spoke Kokaibel in that dire voice of his, a voice which sounded of crying infants, roaring flames, and swarms of insects shaped into syllables. “Say the word and I will show you what I can do. Unleash me and I will be yours to serve.”

Tula gazed upon the imploring eyes of the Witch and the dagger smile of the demon. She sensed the dangerous raw power of the inhuman thing, but power was exactly what she needed. The world literally burned around her as she stood weak, and vulnerable. The end, whatever that meant, was coming. If making a deal with this thing that should not be could make things whole and right again would that not be worth any risk?

“Dear. Please. Understand.” said the Witch. “Kokaibel will never let you free once you accept his aid. He grants desires at first but he twists wishes and he will spin you around until you are his slave.”

Tula turned toward the burning city. The vermillion glow of the flames had dimmed, but billowing grey smoke still rose into the night sky. Tula had never been to Aurelia, but heard of its wonders. Kara Lys was a much smaller city and she had lived near it her entire life. Whenever she had free time after working in the market she explored the streets and alleys. Every outing revealed new sights. Aurelia was legendary for its splendor. Travellers spoke of it as tenfold the grandness of Kara Lys. Yet now that golden city lay destroyed in the distance. Every moment that passed a home or shop burned to the ground, gone forever. She would never see the beauty of this city. No one would unless this devastation ended now.

What power could this demon actually have? She thought. Can he do anything to help this situation? Tula decided to test him, to give Kokaibel a harmless task and see if it works.

“Kokaibel,” the Girl with a Bird for a Heart said, her voice cracking just a little, “I accept your offer of assistance. As a show of good faith I request that you heal my companion. Use your power to make the Witch’s leg whole and right once more.”

“As you wish.” spoke the demon.

Maegda’s eyes and mouth opened wide in horror. Before she formed a single word, the shadow-being fell upon her.

Kokaibel wrapped around the Witch like a cloak. Maegda tried to move, but he enveloped her as she struggled. Tula stepped forward, not knowing what to say or do. As she approached, the shadow lifted.

The Muck Witch sat with her knees up and her face in her hands, the splint Tula had applied nowhere to be seen.

“It is done.” said the demon.

Tula examined the Witch. The odd swelling was gone without so much as a red mark on her leg.

“Please rise!” said Tula joyously, “You are well!”

Maegda lifted her face at Tula. The Witch’s eyes narrowed and her nose drew up in disgust.

Tula took a step back at that look. “I had him heal you.” she said meekly, “Your leg is mended. What harm can be in that?”

“You ignorant.” said the Witch.

“You stupid.”

“You spoiled.”

“Self centered.”

“Willful.”

“CHILD!”

“You have sealed my doom. For years I kept him locked away. For years I had his power in a bottle.I could have used it. I could have drank him like wine and used this demon’s might to reshape the world as I saw fit! I could have made my will the law! I have lost in my life more than you will ever know. I could have fixed so many wrongs...challenged DEATH! But I resisted.”

Kokaibel stood silently behind Maegda as she ranted, with that jagged smile somehow apparent on his unseeable face.

A hot tear slid down Tula’s cheek as the Witch continued to berate her.

“For years I held that demon in check! I held myself in check. Not once did I allow myself to accept his promises of power because I knew. I knew if I took that power for myself it would be my undoing. And now here I am. Tainted. Touched by his dark influence. His unholy might flows in my veins. I can feel it. My pain is gone. My body is healed, but I am as good as dead.”

“It’s just a leg...” began Tula.

“It was everything.” said the Witch, “You let him in. No...I let him in, but you...you opened the door. You do not understand. You don’t feel it. The seal has been broken. Now that I have tasted it there is no way I can resist taking more.”

“The city is burning!” Tula said, “The world is burning. We need to help who we can, not stand here. If this demon can help save lives, I don’t care what the cost is. My own life is already forfeit. I have seen what power he has. Down there in Aurelia there must be many who require our aid.”

Maegda stood gracefully. She turned away from Kokaibel and simply said, “No.”

“No?” spat Tula. “What do you mean?”

She paused for a heartbeat before changing her mind and said, “On second thought. I don’t care what you mean. I don’t need you.”

Tula lumbered down the hill.

“I’m going home.” said Maegda as she walked back toward the swamp. “Perhaps with distance and time I can resist the seeds this demon has planted. Believe me, Tula Petek. No good will come of trusting Kokaibel.”

The witch returned to the remains of her hut.

Tula got to the bottom of the hill and turned to look back up the slope.

“Demon,” she said up at Kokaibel, “are you coming or not?”

Part Fifteen - Some Old Friends

Having no other plan in mind, the boy followed slowly behind Enin. Most of the refugees headed roughly the same direction, though there seemed no particular reason for it. A few miles in the distance sat the forest, marking the horizon. Perhaps they hoped the trees would offer shelter for the evening.
The Boy reckoned that at a gallop he could reach the edge of the woods within the hour. Yet Enin maintained a steady trotting pace.

After several minutes he made his way nearly alongside the sorcerer. They traveled silently together for a while.

The Boy saw some figures ahead on the road, two older boys standing beside a prone paksi.

The Boy raced ahead on his mount to greet the travellers.

“Ho there!” he said, “Is your beast injured?”

One of the older lads looked up and the boy recognized him as Darik. Darik had been a cruel and frequent tormentor of the boy for several years on the streets of Aurelia, but now he simply looked weak and frightened.

“We were hoping to get out to the country. Away from this hellstorm, The two of us, Naveed and I.” said Darik, not seeming to recognize the Boy. “We...borrowed a paksi and galloped as fast as we could. The stupid thing fell to the ground and now it won’t budge.”

“You’ve probably exhausted the poor thing.” the Boy said. “That bird was never meant to carry two riders. Certainly not at a vigorous pace.”

A tear streaked down Darik’s soot-stained face.

“Hop on.” said the Boy. “Our paksi are larger and much stronger than the one you have. As long as we do not work them too hard, they should maintain their strength.”

Enin trotted up beside them. “Are these friends of yours, Boy?”

The Boy looked at Darik and Naveed. He knew them both. Naveed was a round-faced boy of perhaps sixteen years. He barely spoke and almost certainly could not read. Darik was taller and broad-shouldered with straight dark hair and tan skin. Many of the girls called him handsome and he never lacked for their affection in spite of his callous nature.

Though they shared years of acquaintance Darik’s face showed no sign of recognition.

“They are strangers to me.” lied the Boy, barely concealing the venom in his voice. He worried that had he told the truth, Enin would realize how much he hated the older lads.
He suspected the sorcerer would refuse them aid if he learned how atrocious Darik and Naveed had been.

“Then tarry no longer.” Enin said, “We have matters to attend to beyond the forest.”

“But they’re going the same way!” said the Boy.

“They would needlessly slow us down,” said the sorcerer. “Besides, there is no point in them running. Soon there will be nothing to run from. Nothing to run to. The world is ending.”

“If you choose not to help them, then I will follow you no longer.” the Boy said.

“Follow me.” said Enin. “Do not follow me. It is all the same. I have no need for you, Boy. I just do not desire to end this life alone. But if you would rather sit with these ruffians on the side of the road or tend to their ailing beast as the world burns, I will not stop you.” With that he urged his mount onward down the road.

“What did the old man mean?” said Darik. “He said the world is ending. Did he mean that? Is he insane? I half believe him. Never saw no fire fall from the sky like this. Me Nan did once, though. Durin’ the war she said. The enemy threw burning barrels of pitch into the city. It nearly burned the whole town to the ground.”

“We aren’t at war.” the Boy said.

“Then what was it then?” Darik said, “You don’t know nothing about no wars. You don’t know if the king were to be at war with another king.”

The Boy looked at Darik and said, “We don’t have a king. Aurelia has never had a king. Ever. It’s a free city run by a council of merchants.”

“How you know that?” spoke Naveed for the first time.

“I read it in a book.” the Boy said. “Reading is good for you.”

“Oh yeah?” said Darik. “You think you’re real smart, eh?”

The Boy did not like the look in Darik’s eye. He’d seen it many times before. There was something about the cruel and stupid that made them become infinitely crueler when you reminded them of how stupid they were.

Darik grabbed at the Boy’s leg.

“You know what?” Darik said, “I’m taking that mount for myself. You don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve shit!”

“Let go!” said the Boy.

“Leggo!” retorted Naveed in a mocking tone.

Darik grasped hold of the Boy’s leg and tried to pull him off the paksi. The Boy gripped the reins, but Darik was strong and nearly had him.

“Give a hand, you donkey!” said Darik to Naveed.

The round-faced lad galumphed over and attempted to grab hold of the Boy’s arm. He caught only a bit of sleeve and pulled.
“Stop it!” The Boy said “This is my paksi. I’m not letting you take it.”

“I remember you now.” said Darik. “You’re that little turd who used to run with Stik and Paol down on Butcher Street, ain’t you? You were always a bit of trouble. Never listened. Always mouthing off to your betters. Yeah. I know you.”

A flood of memories filled the Boy’s head. He hadn’t thought of Stik and Paol in a long time. They were tough lads, not much better than Darik and Naveed, really. The only difference was that they picked on other kids instead of him. Eventually they ran afoul of a real gang and were found in an alley with their throats slit. That was when Saiku Lin found the Boy and took him in.

“Hey ‘Veed,” Darik said to his friend, “remember this waste? I used to box his ears for fun.”

The Boy twisted the reins in an attempt to keep his grip. The massive bird began to twist and shake its heavy head.

Naveed looked up at the Boy’s face and a dim light of recognition appeared in his eyes.

“Oh yeah.” he said, “It’s-”

CRACK!

The paksi spun its thick neck around and hit him square in the jaw. In a flash the lad fell to the ground.

In shock Darik let go of the Boy, leaving him half dangling off the giant bird.

“Yah!” yelled the Boy as he spurred his paksi onward. The bird took off into the night with the Boy nearly falling from his perch.

Darik ran after him but could never hope to catch up with the long legged mount.



Part Sixteen - A Deal Declined

“Child.” said Kokaibel. “Do you think I am some hound that will follow because you command it?”

“I don’t care what you are.” said Tula, “You can follow or not. But you will not stop me from doing what I choose.”

“And what do you think you are doing?”

Tula scanned the horizon. A dark wooded forest stood between the edge of the hill and the burning city. Above the trees spread a glow that could have been mistaken for a glorious sunset. Billows of smoke drifted up from the source of the light. A narrow path shrouded in shadows cut through the middle of the forest.

“I’m going there.” she said, pointing along the path.

“It is dark,” he said, “There will be wolves. There may be worse.”

“What could possibly be worse than you?” she asked.

“Oh, my dear. Precious little in this green world is worse than I.” Kokaibel said, “However, being in my presence is no assurance of protection.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” he said, “for one, I have made no deal with you. I have offered, but thus far you have only requested a sample. I healed the Witch, but if you wish for more from me you must speak the words to unbind me. Release my power fully.”

“I recall what you told me.” Tula said to the demon. “I believe your words were, ‘Unleash me and I will be yours to serve’. Am I not mistaken?”

“I do NOT sound like that. But your words are correct.”

“Demon. I am young. I am weak, and I am in desperate fear for what is to come.”

Kokaibel’s ebon form shimmered like the twinkling of stars in the night sky.

“But,” Tula continued, “if I unbind you then you are mine?”

“Yes.”

“TO SERVE?”

“Yes.”

“I am just a simple girl. I have not travelled the world. Before this ordeal began I had never travelled far beyond Kara Lys. I am what they call a fishlass. My grandmother paid coin to a tutor so that I could read and do sums. She had been often cheated by men in the marketplace because she could do neither. She worked hard to ensure I would be as prepared for this world as she could make me.”

Kokaibel wrinkled his simultaneously grand and yet imperceptible nose at her, “Tula Petek. Why waste my time with this pointless biography?”
“My point, demon, is that I am not as foolish as you think I am.”

She began to walk toward the wood. It started nearly a hundred yards from the foot of the hill. The demon Kokaibel remained behind.

“How so?” he asked her.

Tula turned to face Kokiabel and walked backward away from him with her arms outstretched.

“You say you would be mine to serve. You think you are clever, but if I give you what you want I know that you will be the master and I the servant.”

“Would that be so bad?”

She turned back and trudged onward. Tula did not care if Kokaibel followed. She had gotten used to walking alone in the past several days. Her body had stopped feeling the ache of the road long ago. She had dropped her stick at some point in the swamp and only now noticed its absence. The first day on the road she ate nothing. Her grandmother told her the way to the Muck Witch and explained the rules for seeking her counsel. The old woman could not give her provisions because help from another on the journey was forbidden. The second day she found a vineyard and ate only the fruit that had fallen. On the third day she had run out of fruit, but was fortunate to find a lake full of fish. As the child of a fishing village she was able to snare a few without a line or net but it took much of the day. She roasted her catch on the side of the road and slept in the grass before heading out in the morning. She ate the remainder of the fish just before she began walking again. Not long after she encountered the Boy who had attempted to help her. That seemed so long ago.

Now the sky would be black if not for the glow of the burning city beyond the wood. Her stomach grumbled but there was no food coming any time soon.

“I sense your hunger.” said Kokaibel, his voice just over her shoulder. “I could help. You cannot travel forever without sustenance.”

Without looking at him, Tula said, “What do you want from me, demon? I have already said I will not grant you power over me.”

“Did you? And do I not already have power over you? I have your name.”

“What does that even mean? If having my name has given you power then what more do you seek? You have told me to unleash you, yet you do not seem to be bound. If it was your plan to harm me you could do so by now. I am alone. None could stop you. Yet here I stand in a dark and empty field with a demon who follows me...like a hound.”

“I see, my dear. Then it is finished. I shall leave you on your way.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Clearly you have discovered my game.” Kokaibel said. “Your name gives me a degree of power over you, yes. Well...not so much power as...influence...but still. For me to be truly unleashed you must ask willingly for my power. You must invite me. But since you have no such desire.

“I most certainly do NOT.”

“Well then, madam, Good evening to you. I wish you well on your journey through the forest. Say hello to the wolves for me.

Tula could see the demon attempting to manipulate her. After all, is that not what demons do best? But she was smarter than that. Was she not?

“Then, good evening to you, Kokaibel. May our paths never cross again.”

The girl with a bird for a heart walked alone into the wood.
 

Episode Four - Demon and Sorcerer

 

Part Eleven - Aurelia is Burning

The Boy had arrived back in Aurelia as the firestorm began. He wheeled his paksi driven cart into the stables and barely managed to unfasten the large birds before flames from above engulfed the building. He raced to the exit, but outside all he could see was a sudden panorama of infernal destruction. People and animals ran and screamed in chaotic fear as the once-bustling streets became a twisted maze of panicked crowds and crumbling buildings. The Boy shielded his eyes from the blinding light and choking smoke.
The paksi panicked and fled the stables, nearly running the Boy down.

He dashed back inside and threw open the cellar door. Several feet below ground he hunkered for what felt like hours. The explosive blasts subsided eventually, but he remained among the barrels of grain and cheap wine. From above he heard shrieks of pain and terror. He cried until his eyes ran dry. He collapsed onto the floor and prayed to whatever gods may listen.

The Boy had no family. He had no real friends. Born to the streets, he’d been alone as long as he could remember. Just one in a sea of urchins flooding the greatest and most terrible city in the world. He’d become accustomed to taking care of himself. He ran with some gangs from time to time, learning different schemes and tricks for survival, but he never stayed with any long enough to be fully accepted. When Saiku Lin offered him the task of smuggling Enin into the feast hall, the Boy was wary. The name Enin had only ever been spoken in fretful whispers by the other street folk. They  called him a warlock, a doctor, a killer, a charlatan, and a man of great wealth and power. He shared his name with a legendary boogie man that parents told their kids about to keep them in line. “Don’t stay out too late or Enin will get you” they would say, or “Eat all your greens, or Enin will come knocking at our door.” There was even a popular graffiti tag that could be found around the city from time to time, “Nine lives, evil, Enin”.
But the Boy knew that was all just talk, fairy tales to scare children.  Still, this man called Enin was bad news. Those who got too close to him were known to suffer for it.

When the Boy learned that he would be taking Enin away from the city he grew intrigued. He had to meet with the man and gain his trust according to Lin. Enin did not make himself vulnerable to anyone who may use it against him. The Boy spent several days with the sorcerer and saw firsthand what great wealth could buy. In Enin’s chambers the Boy was fed, clothed, and allowed to sleep on an actual cot. Enin put him in charge of his stables and even gave the Boy a key to his home. Often the Boy was left alone. He could easily have taken anything he wanted from the man. Gold, fancy foods, jewelry and other expensive items were strewn about Enin’s house as if they held no value.

The Boy worked among collections of statues, expensive silverware, ancient books, and items that were almost certainly magical in nature, but he took nothing that was not offered to him. He remained cautious to not even gaze for too long upon the accouterment of his master’s home for fear of bringing suspicion upon himself. A single candlestick from that house was worth more than all the coins the Boy had ever seen.

He planned to return to the house after delivering Enin, use the key to enter and fill the cart with as much as he could fit. Then the Boy would leave Aurelia forever. He was not sure where he would go. Perhaps he would journey to the lands of Sarazan or even as far as the fabled city of Ki Cedron where cats are sacred. The Boy liked cats. The further he got from Aurelia, the better, he figured. He could set up a small shop somewhere and sell the curios he’d gathered from the house of Enin. Perhaps he’d become a rich fat merchant in time.

Neither Saiku Lin nor Enin gave any indication of when the sorcerer would return, if ever. When the Boy asked what he should do with the cart and Enin’s magnificent paksi, the man did not seem to care.

“Return them to the stable, I suppose.” Enin said, as if he would never need them again.

The Boy knew that the man was insane. Wanting to crash a noble wedding in such a bizarre manner was clear evidence of that. He decided that whatever Enin meant to do was none of his business. He would do his job and return to the stables as ordered. If Enin ever returned to his home he would probably not even notice a small portion of his riches missing. Even if he did, the Boy would be hundreds of miles away by then.

The Boy never got to enact his larceny, of course. The moment he pulled into the stable, the sky exploded in fire and noise.

Now here he sat cowering in the basement.

He wondered when it would be safe to venture out. The muffled sounds of those above trying to escape the madness raining down upon them lessened over time.

The Boy crept over to the cellar stairs, unsure of what to do next. The paksi had run off so swiftly he could probably never find them, assuming they weren’t lost to the flames.

He considered for a moment that this could be punishment from the gods for his deceitful actions. The gods had never seemed to take notice of him before, though. This firestorm was something else. It was something bigger than the Boy could comprehend.

The Boy gazed up at the cellar door,  afraid of what may wait for him on the other side. The world could be ash for all he knew. He couldn’t stay down below forever, of course. His stomach began to grumble. What choice did he have but to open the door?

The room had grown noticeably warmer. There came a crackling noise from beyond the door. His eyes grew wide and every nerve in his body tingled. The stable must have caught fire! There would be no escaping now. He’d trapped himself.

Tears streamed down the Boy’s face as an orange glow emanated from behind the door, sharply outlining the wooden frame. In a heartbeat the entire portal to the world above bathed him in angry light.

He heard a loud CRACK! As the slats that made up the door burst downward and fell into the room in a clatter of smoke and fire.

The cellar door was now an open hole and beyond it the Boy saw darkness broken by a flickering glow.

Burning slats fell upon the wooden stairs. Soon the flames would engulf the passage, making escape impossible.

More frightened of being trapped than of getting burned, the Boy ran up the stairs, leaping over the fires wherever he could. Flames licked at his legs. Sharp, intense pain wrapped around him as the fire lit upon his clothing. The Boy nearly succumbed before making it to the top.

A dense cloud of smoke filled the remains of the stables. The boy raced, choking and crying through the fumes in a blind frenzy.

He fell to the ground some distance outside where the stables had stood, gasping for air.
When he could see again the world around him had turned mostly black. The wrath of the gods - if that be the cause- had struck just before nightfall. Enin’s house became a pile of cinder before the Boy’s eyes. All around people ran with buckets of water to save their own homes and businesses. The Boy sat in the ash filled streets of the burning city in shock.

“The world is ending.” he said out loud to himself.

“No.” a voice spoke from behind him. “This is just the beginning of the end”

The boy turned to see Enin towering above him.

Part Twelve - The Demon

The hill looked out over a clearing. Beyond that lay a forest and past it would be the city of Aurelia. Against the blackening sky Tula saw an orange glow and several streams of grey smoke pouring out over the horizon as the city burned.

“What I need you to do is hold my upper leg in place and push my lower leg back into the correct position.”

Tula sat mute, staring at the Witch.

“Do it, please. I cannot by myself, girl. I need you.” the Muck Witch said to her.

Tula looked down at the bird in her chest as if expecting it to chime in.

“Tihihi!” it chirped and said nothing more.

“Tula!” snapped the Witch. “You can do this. I saw your courage during the firestorm. I’m certain you can be brave for me now.”

The girl with a bird for a heart drew in a deep breath and straddled the Witch’s thigh with her back toward the woman. The Witch wore loose fitting trousers. The bottom half on the broken leg had been torn somehow during the storm. An odd bulge jutted out about halfway down her lower leg.

“That is my tibia, dear.” the Witch told her. “Take my leg below the bump- by the ankle is best. Pull it up like a lever.”

“But,” Tula said, “that will hurt you!”

“It will hurt even more if you don’t do it. Please. Tula Petek. Be strong for me. I am speaking calmly now, but I am in great pain. I can’t be strong much longer. Not without your help.”

Tula did as she was told. She reached down to the lower calf and pulled up gently with both hands.

The Witch gasped but did not yell.

The girl felt a sickening grind as she set the bone, but it moved slowly into the proper position. Soon the grotesque bulge was gone.

The Witch exhaled.

“Well done girl. Now we need to make a splint.”

“How are you so calm?” Tula asked her.

“I’ve been alive a long while, Tula. This is not my first disaster. Also, your work is not yet done. I need you to find some straight branches to make a splint. You can tear the remains of my trousers to tie it around my leg.

Tula followed her instructions and eventually the Witch’s leg was splinted. The girl found some water in a stream and brought it to the woman in a large leaf.

After a long drink the Witch spoke again. “We cannot stay here, but I cannot move.”

“Where else would we even go?” asked Tula. “The world has caught fire around us. It’s a wonder that any trees are still standing here. If we weren’t surrounded by marshland I suspect we’d be caught in a wildfire. Was that it? Did the world just end? A rain of fire and a broken leg? Is that all there is to it?”.

“No,” said the Witch, “most certainly not.”

“So then, what comes next? And when?”

“I won’t pretend to know these things. All I can be certain of is that your sorcerer has set an unstoppable wave of events into motion. He told you we have eight days until the very end. Given what has happened this evening, I believe him.”

“What can we do, then?” asked Tula, “A lost child and a broken Witch? If the destruction this Enin has wrought is unstoppable then what is the point of doing anything?”

The Witch wrapped her hands around Tula’s and said, “Dear girl. Nothing has changed. We have as much time and as much to do as we always have.”

“How much time is that?”

“The rest of our lives.”

Tula turned away from the Muck Witch, frustrated by her words. She inhaled deeply to find her senses overwhelmed by a sweet and heavy smell, like pipe smoke. Without turning she sensed a third party had arrived behind the Witch, appearing stealthily out of the woods.

“I am going to kill you.” spoke a voice that was not a voice. More than anything it sounded like the buzzing of a million bees.

“I know,” said the Witch, “but not today.”

The bird fluttered in Tula’s chest. Every instinct screamed at her to run as fast as she could, but instead she turned to see...it...standing behind the Witch.

It was smoke. No, it was darkness, like a piece of the night sky had been torn out and brought to the world. It shifted and flickered as if not meant to be and existed by force of will alone. It took the form of a man and within that form twinkled stars and galaxies. If Tula looked closely she could make out high cheekbones and an aquiline nose, but she dared not look closely.

“Girl,” said the Witch, “this is Kokaibel. He is my cacodaemon.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Tula said, her eyes to the ground.

“This girl lies.” spoke Kokaibel, “She could not be less pleased.”

“Do be polite.” the Muck Witch said, but to whom she spoke was uncertain.

“I’ve never met a demon before.” said Tula, “I thought you were supposed to reek of brimstone.”

Kokaibel chortled with a sound like shattered glass. “If we smelled of burning sulfur, where would be the appeal? No, child. Demons smell sweet. We are, after all, the angels who have broken free.”

Tula Petek had never feared anything the way she feared Kokaibel. Standing before it felt like being locked in a cage with a tiger. Kokaibel could end her without a thought and they both knew it.

She looked into the eyes of the Witch and asked, “Should we be running?”

“No point in it, dear.” said the Witch. “You could never outrun Kokaibel. It would be like trying to outrace the moon. Besides, He is not doing us harm at this time.”

Tula forced herself to gaze upon the strange being. The more she looked at it, the more human it...he...became to her eyes. His form shifted and blurred as if it were uncertain whether or not it should exist at all. But the more she wrapped her mind around him, the more solid he seemed. Kokaibel flashed bright eyes at her, followed by a radiant smile.

“Maegda,” he spoke, “what do you have here?”

The demon waved what may have been a hand in the general direction of Tula. “Have you taken a new pupil?”

“No. Kokaibel. I have not. Those days are past. This girl-”

“I am Tula Petek.” she interrupted before the Witch could finish. At the sound of her name Kokaibel’s smile split across his face like a tear in fabric. The Witch threw her hand over her own mouth as if to trap the words that had already escaped the girl’s

“...this FOOLISH girl,” said the Witch, “is of no consequence to you. She is simply a traveler who was kind enough to help me in my injured state.”

Kokaibel circled Tula like a predator. “Tula,” the demon whispered, tasting the name, “Tula Petek. What a deliciously ordinary name. I shall add it to my collection.”

“Beg your pardon!” said Tula.

“Those are the rules, girl.” the demon said, “Never say your own name to a demon. It binds you to them. Now you’re stuck with me. Just like Maegda here.” he gestured toward the Witch.

“I’m done.” Tula said.

“No no no.” Kokaibel demanded, “You don’t get to decide that. Not now. You’ve given me your name. Just handed it over like a present! I have you now. Like this Witch had me all those years. Except I won’t lock you up in a bottle. Oh no. I’ll keep you where I can see you. You’re a dangerous one, you heartless thing.” At that last bit Tula tugged at the flap of her blouse to cover the cage as best she could.

“I don’t care about you, demon.” said Tula. “If you are going to kill me or enslave me or whatever your plans are...then get on with it. Otherwise I have bigger problems than you. The world is ending and there is much I’d like to get done before that comes to pass. I don’t need some flickery shadow of hell hassling me too. I’m done. Good day to you.”

The Witch was unable to move due to the state of her leg, but Tula was nearly certain that could she walk, the woman would not have followed as she plodded down the hill away from her and the demon.

“You may walk away from me if you like, Tula Petek.” spoke Kokaibel, “But you can’t outrun the end of your world. Not without my assistance.”

Tula stopped, but did not turn around when she asked, “What kind of assistance do you offer?”

Chapter Thirteen - The Sorcerer’s Boy

“Did you not expect me to return?” asked the towering man.

The boy opened his mouth but nothing came out. He spun around at the ebbing chaos. His notion of taking for himself a small portion of Enin’s wealth had literally gone up in smoke. He had nothing. For all the Boy knew his contacts and acquaintances could be dead in the destruction delivered by the firestorm. Even the paksi had fled.

Enin surveyed the scene around him. “It is not easy for me.” He said with a face of stone. “Watching my home fade to dust. This sight does fill me with sorrow. But it is the way of things. It is inevitable. All things must end.”

The Boy croaked dryly, “You said that this was just the beginning. There is more to come?”

Enin’s expression shifted from a mask of granite to the smile of a man with a thousand secrets. “Yes, Boy. Much more is on its way. More than this world can handle.”

The Boy stood and wiped the soot away from his eyes.

“Come, Boy.” Enin said to him. “I have need of you.”

“Come where? If the world is ending, where could we even go? And why should we bother? Won’t it end all the same?”

Enin let out a sharp whistle and from the shadows loped two familiar shapes. The paksi stepped forward.

“Be silent and ride with me for a while, Boy.” the sorcerer said. “Neither of us should want for a companion in the times that are to come.”

He climbed upon the larger of the two birds and steadied himself by grasping the ruff of feathers around its neck. He nodded at the Boy to follow suit.

“Use the bridle only for guiding your mount, Boy. If you need to right yourself while riding, take hold of the plumage as have I.” said Enin.

“Won’t that hurt her?”

“Do so gently. Grasping the bridle sends confusing signals to the paksi. That might cause it to take the wrong course, or perhaps even throw you.”

The Boy clumsily attempted to ride bareback, but he managed and soon kept pace with Enin as they made their way out of the city.

A flood of people trying to escape the destruction caused by the storm of fire blocked their path along the road away from Aurelia. However, the birds were swift and maneuvered around the throng.

“That storm brought so much pain and ruin to our city.” said the Boy. “It only lasted a few minutes, but it destroyed so many homes, so many lives.”

Enin road along silently.

“What worse thing could be coming?” the Boy continued. “Where can these people run to? Where can we go? The forest? The marshlands beyond? I see black billows of smoke all around. Is there no part of the land untouched by this flaming tempest?”

“I bid you to be silent, Boy. I am in no mood to answer pointless questions.” said Enin.

“And I am in no mood to be told what to do.” snapped the Boy. “My whole life I’ve been wary of men and boys like you. Older, bigger, stronger. I’ve stayed out of the way. Tried to make myself small and unnoticed so as not to incur their wrath. I’ve been the servant, the victim. I’ve mostly hidden myself away from the likes of those who think they can command me and anyone younger or smaller than them. When hiding was not an option I would do as told just to stay safe. But no more. Things are changing.”

Enin fixed his gaze on the road ahead as the Boy continued to unleash.

“No one is safe now. Not me. Not you. Not the town guard nor the gangs. Not even Saiku Lin is safe. The sky itself brings death to us all. So I don’t need to heed you or anyone else. You cannot possibly be more of a threat to me than a sky full of flames!”

Enin glanced sideways at the Boy, but held his tongue.

“So tell me, oh great sorcerer, if there is nowhere left to run then why run? Where are you going? Why should I follow? What kind of destruction and what are we to do about it?”

Enin pulled his mount to a stop. The boy did the same. The sorcerer looked at him and said, “Past that forest, in the swamps is a force more destructive than the firestorm. There is a power so great it will plunge my whole world into darkness forever. It waits for me. If you choose to run away from the end of the world, then run. You won’t get far. The end is coming sooner than you know and when it happens it won’t matter if you are standing right here or a thousand leagues away. I am going to face that force.”

“Face it?” asked the Boy. “Then what?” If this force is all you say, what do you hope to achieve? How can you stop it from ending the world?


The sorcerer’s head fell back and he let loose a barrage of laughter. “Boy,” he said, “I do not intend to stop it..”

Enin shook the rein and his bird trotted on.

“I intend to release it!”
 

Episode Three - Void and Flame

 Part Eight - The Dark Beyond the Door

Enin brushed his fingertips against the light, feeling its presence. Waves of heat shot down his arm and into his chest, engulfing his newfound heart in a flame that did not consume. The light of indeterminate color flooded his eyes. The heat spread through his body like a fever.

“Stand.” came a calm and steady voice from above him.

Enin rose to his feet, expecting his head to meet the low ceiling of the cave. It did not. Had he been crouching needlessly all this time? No. He thought. The cavern had become much larger than before somehow, infinitely larger.

The ring of light began to fade.

“Who are you?” Enin asked the voice.

“Close your eyes.” It said.

“Why?” Enin asked, but did as he was told, asking “Who are you?” once more.

“Open them now.” the voice said.

Enin found himself standing on a precipice over a black ocean beneath the vast and moonless sky. Waves of shadow rolled softly beneath him, creating a gentle lapping sound.

Enin felt the ocean looking back at him, measuring him through and through.

“What are you?” he asked.

“Young one,” the voice spoke, “I am the rippling void, the thought unformed, the silence between universes. I am the ink that drowns light, the dreams that life forgot.”

“I am not young,” said Enin.

“That is the point you wish to argue?” said the voice. “I am older than anything with a name. You come seeking the yawning void that spans all reality and want to tell it that YOU are old?”

“No,” began Enin, “I beg your pardon, old one. That is not my purpose in coming to you.”

“Then say it.”

“Your emptiness,” Enin said, “I may seem young to you, but I am very very old by the standards of my kind. The islands from which I hail were once mountains, and I lived upon them at that time. As I reached manhood, I sought wisdom to help my fellow mortals. I wrestled demons and tricked gods. I uncovered the secret of eternal life and took it for myself. I tried to give it to mankind, but it was a gift none could accept. Humans are fragile things. Trying to grant them immortality is like pouring a volcano into a teacup. My first attempts were...unpleasant. Instead I sought to heal the sick and bring knowledge to the ignorant. I had earned longevity for myself. I believed that over time I could uplift others so they would be prepared to join me.”

“But you were wrong.” said the voice.

“Yes. Very wrong. Even those who claimed to want to live forever failed at taking even the first steps. For centuries upon centuries I brought what I had learned to the masses. And almost every time they garbled it, misunderstood it, or rejected it entirely.”

“Mortals can not achieve immortality. It would be a paradox. The fact that you stand before me now should be impossible. Yet here you are.”

“I pondered that for ages.” said Enin, “Why me? How is it that I was able to accept forever within my mind and my flesh when so many others could not? I struggled with this question. Ultimately I decided that I am the paradox. No longer am I bound by mortal laws because my existence now resides outside those laws.”

“You sound pleased with yourself.” said the voice.

“I am not, though.” continued Enin, “Yes, I am different from the rest of humanity. I have seen and done more than one can in a hundred lifetimes, a thousand lifetimes. Yet here I am. Alone. Tired. Finished.”

“So you come here. To this place outside of places in this time outside of time? To ask for what? A boon?”

“I suppose I do.” said Enin, “I need you to help me bring about the end. The people of the world tell the tale of Mur the destroyer. He who sucks life out of the world at the end. I know that Mur is simply a shadow of the true darkness. A shadow of you.”

“I see.” said the voice, “You can no longer die. The only way for you to end is to take your world with you?”

“Yes.”

“So you wish me to tear the realms asunder, set the air to fire, and devour the souls of all who breathe? All so you may die?”

“Yes. I wish this very much.”

“This is not an easy thing you ask.” the voice told him. “There are four pillars which hold me apart from your world. Each must be broken in turn...”

“Yes. I know.” interrupted Enin. “I know of the four pillars. I also know that they cannot be broken without the proper tool.”

“Little immortal,” said the voice, “you want to see me unleashed upon the world? You would have me freed from the dark beyond the Door? You choose to be my servant, my harbinger, my herald?”

“If that is what I must do to silence my own mind, then yes.”

The surface on which Enin stood rumbled. The black ocean waves rose to a tumult, crashing and slamming against one another and splashing against the precipice. Their substance was not water, but something colder, darker, and much much older.

Out of the waves rose an object, a shard of darkness in the vague shape of a blade. Blacker than black, the blade drank in what little light existed in this dim place. It floated gently upward over the roiling sea. Without thinking, Enin grasped it like a sword.

“I give you this splinter of my being. With it, you will pierce the pillars and sever their bonds to creation.”

“And then you will come into the world?” asked Enin.

“Yes.”

“And then finally there will be silence?”

“Yes. Now go.”

The ring of light appeared once more over Enin. Before he could form another word, it swept over him.

White light flooded Enin’s eyes as the sound of the waves suddenly ceased, replaced by a low murmur.

The white blindness slowly faded, and Enin began to see shapes and the low rumbling noise became the voices of a crowd.

“Where did he come from?” “Who is that?” “Is this the entertainment?”

In time the voices grew louder and more plentiful as Enin’s vision returned.

He found himself standing in the wedding hall between the columns of Maj and Mur, now decorated with ribbons and candles. Dozens of aristocrats pranced about in fancy clothes, drinking and chattering. A circle of them had gathered around Enin.

“Are you the conjurer they hired?” asked one.

“He looks too grubby.” said another, “Are you completely certain that he isn’t some vagrant who simply wandered in?”

“The guards would not allow that.” answered the first party-goer. “Besides, this is the custom to appear like a hedge mage. All the great entertainers do it now!”

A third reveler, a man in a black suit with a purple sash, indicating him to be the bridegroom spoke, “You there. Hedge mage! Perform a trick if you wish to be paid.”

Enin’s wits returned to him. He realized where he was and what was being assumed of him.

“You all speak too much!” he spat, “Insipid twits, every one of you!”

“Clown!” said the groom, “My father, the Baron, has hired you to entertain me on this day, not insult. Perform your magicks now or suffer a thrashing! The choice is yours.”

“You want the magicks?” bellowed Enin, “You want to see the wonder? You worthless pile of insects?”

The groom became enraged at this insult, but tried to stifle his feelings under the practiced veneer of civil propriety.

“Yes, wizard. Show us your power.” he spoke carefully and clearly, between clenched teeth.

Enin’s eyes turned black as he pronounced a string of words not heard by the ears of another mortal in three thousand years. The bridegroom stepped back, feeling his face. Across the surface of it appeared several bumps and boils. They grew and popped, spewing pus and ooze onto the nearby guests. The bridegroom opened his mouth to scream, but instead of a sound, out poured millions of writhing insects, centipedes, and worms. The man fell down in a heap. The party guests nearest him rushed to his aid and tried to lift him off the floor. Their arms pulled his empty jacket off of him, revealing a mound of tiny verminous crawling creatures that scattered off in all directions, causing chaos among the wedding guests. Screams echoed throughout the hall along with the sound of shattering glass as the aristocratic attendants ran for the exits.

The guests who attempted to lift the groom stared in confusion when the scattering insects were gone, leaving only a vacant mess of clothing topped with a purple sash.

“Sorcerer!” exclaimed one of them, looking up at where Enin had stood a moment ago, but the man had vanished.


Part Nine - Breaking the Sky

 
Enin slinked out of the wedding hall, his boots crunching on gravel as the cries of the confused and frightened nobles faded into the distance. Above him, the clouds churned in shades of gray and violet.

He could feel it now. The first pillar. A presence pressing on the edge of his mind, a pull stronger than gravity, drawing him toward the estate’s distant northern grounds.

The forgotten and overgrown path was lined with jagged hedges and gnarled trees that clawed at the dim sky. Ahead, the remnants of an ancient structure loomed—a circular courtyard dominated by a massive column of white stone that pulsed with faint luminescence. The air around it shimmered like heat waves rising from a desert.

This was it.

Enin tightened his grip on the shard of darkness, its edge leeching the warmth from his hand. He approached the pillar, each step heavier than the last. Burdened with  the weight of understanding—what this act would mean, the scale of the unmaking that would ripple outward.

“You should not be here.”

The woman’s voice rang out from nowhere and everywhere. Enin froze, turning his blackened eyes toward the speaker.

A figure stepped forward, emerging from behind a warped tree near the pillar. She wore the form of a twisted old woman, her hunched body bent and gnarled like the trunk of a wicked tree.

“You don’t know what you’re doing.” The being’s tone was calm but edged with sorrow. “This monolith is a foundation of the world. Its breaking will bring ruin upon everything. You are not so lost that you would sacrifice all creation for your silence.”

Enin’s voice came low, calm. “I have already sacrificed much.”

“You think the void will give you peace?” The crone tilted her head to one side. “The void devours peace. It will devour you as well.”

“I have made my choice.” Enin lifted the shard. Its cold pulse seemed to quicken, as though eager to fulfill its purpose. “And I will not be swayed by the pleadings of a wayward spirit.”

The crone moved faster than Enin would have thought possible, closing the distance in a single step. She reached out with spindly arms that ended in claw-like fingernails, grasping at the blade in his hand.

The fight was brief but terrible. The hunched old woman’s limbs were thin, but strong as iron. Enin twisted to wrench the blade out of her clutch, but she held fast, her wiry fingers bleeding onto the cutting edge. Finally the sorcerer kicked the crone in the chest, knocking her off balance.

Forcing her against the pillar, Enin used leverage to twist the blade away from the old woman. As he stepped back she howled and lunged at him once more, but Enin was swift. He brought the sword down upon her crooked body. It cut through her as if she were barely material. She fell to the ground in a puddle of gray goo as if melting.

“...This is not the peace you seek.” came her last words as her form liquified, seeping into the ground.

Enin stood alone now, before the pillar. He looked up at its towering form, its marbled surface pulsing like the slow beat of a heart.

“No,” he whispered, “but it will do.”

With a single motion, he plunged the shard into the base of the pillar.

The stone cracked, sending fissures racing up its surface. White fire burst forth, blinding and searing, as the pillar let out a horrendous sound that tore into the sky. The ground beneath Enin’s feet shook violently, and a gale of wind roared outward, scattering debris.

Clouds parted, and the heavens fractured. From the void beyond, streaks of fiery light rained down - a thousand stars falling from the sky.

Enin stood amidst the chaos, watching the firestorm unfold. The estate was the first to fall, a cascade of flame reducing the once-pristine halls to ash. The screams of  revelers and servants echoed in the distance. Beyond, the meteors struck forests, rivers, and distant villages, each impact sending shockwaves across the land.

He felt no triumph, no satisfaction. Only the faintest flicker of relief, buried beneath the vast emptiness that had consumed him for so long.

The shard in his hand pulsed again, urging him forward. The destruction of the first pillar was only the beginning.

Enin turned, stepping over the crumbled remains of the pillar, and disappeared into the darkness of the night as the sky turned orange from the fires burning in every direction.


Part Ten - The Flaming Earth

The Witch tapped at the bars of the cage that held the tiny bird.

“Does it hurt?” she asked Tula..

“Not anymore,” said Tula. “When it was happening the pain was unbearable. The world turned black and the next thing I knew my grandmother was shaking me awake. The pain had gone then, leaving me feeling merely...hollow, as if a wind could whistle clean through me.”

“Tula-” the Witch began, but was interrupted by a horrendous crashing noise outside of the hut.

The two raced outside to see fire raining from the clouds. Crimson balls of flame streaked with yellow blasted through the sky and into the boggy ground with dreadful force and exploded in terrifying bursts around them.

The Witch’s eyes grew wide as the hut they’d just been sitting in ignited behind them. The swamp hens clucked and squealed frantically, running in circles around their pen. The walls of the tiny structure burned quickly and plumes of black smoke billowed around it. From inside came several smaller explosions as the bottles and jars within burst from the heat or perhaps from some magical force within them.

More streaks dropped around them in a blazing torrent. From within the hut the smoke swirled and coalesced. It almost seemed to take a human-like shape.

“No!” gasped the Witch. “No no no! Not now. This can NOT happen NOW!” She stood frozen and stared at the shape.

Tula grabbed the Muck Witch by the hand and pulled her into the dry forest on the edge. Tula led her to the relative cover of the trees.  Above them branches cracked apart in white-hot flares as the meteors fell into the world around them. Splintered wood and searing fire flew in every direction.

The pair ran forward until they came to a wall of blazing trees. They turned to their left to avoid the fires, but only found their path blocked by several fallen tree trunks that were blackened and burned by the destructive force that had laid them low.

They veered back toward the swamp. A meteor struck the ground behind them with concussive force and the sound of ten thousand thunderbolts that threw Tula and the Witch into the dirt. Everything fell silent.

The world around Tula moved in slow motion as blasts continued to fall around her soundlessly. Though she could see the chaos raging on, her ears gave her nothing besides a faint ringing noise. Tongues of fire licked at the bog and branches snapped in white-hot bursts, crashing around her without a whisper.

She got to her knees. The Witch lay face down on the scorched ground with her leg bent at a strange angle. Fire continued to rain all around them. The girl’s eyes filled with tears. If she still had her heart it would have been beating its way out of her chest. But instead of a heart she had a bird and the Bird spoke to her.

“Get up!” it said.

Bewildered and frightened, Tula almost failed to register the voice.

“Get up now or we both die!” said the Bird.

“What?” said Tula, “How are-” before she finished uttering the sentence she realized that she could not hear her own voice. She could hear nothing but the Bird.

“No time for questions, girl!” spoke the creature in her chest. “Move, move, move! That’s all there is to do!”
 
“But-” she mouthed silently then stopped. Trying to speak was obviously futile.

“Now!” shouted the Bird as another meteor struck dangerously close to them.

Tula grabbed the Witch by her arm and hefted her over one shoulder. The older woman came-to and looked around.

“We must run!” shouted Tula, but she could not tell if the Witch heard.

The Muck Witch tried to move, but her leg was clearly broken. She fell onto Tula.

Somehow the girl found the strength to drag the Witch to the swamp.

They trudged on three good legs through knee deep water. Every muscle in Tula's body screamed as she hauled the Witch on her shoulder, the older woman's weight threatening to buckle her knees. The swamp water sucked at her legs with each step, slowing her like tar.

The blasts of flame from the sky seemed to lessen as they went. In several minutes that felt like years they reached a small hill where the earth was dry. Tula slumped to the ground, exhausted. The fire had not spread to that spot and as she looked around, it seemed as if the meteor shower had ceased. Slowly Tula’s hearing returned to her.

The two women sat on the edge of the bog, surveying the destruction.

“Do you know how to set a broken leg?” the Witch asked matter-of-factly.

The Bird said nothing.

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This story was written and recorded in New Jersey on Lenapehoking territory.

Intro music is 'Shoulders Of Giants' by Scott Buckley - released under CC-BY 4.0. www.scottbuckley.com.au