Searing 34, 122
It had been less than two days since Imogen Ward’s first major failure as a Sunsinger, but it was starting to look like this might be less of a “hold back tears while reporting” failure and more of a “stay in this cell until we can assemble a military tribunal” affair.
”...I’m too young to be a mass murderer.” Imogen whispered to herself. It didn’t help very much. She clenched a hand compulsively, opening and closing her fingers slowly.
“Did you say something, Imogen?” Chief Oping asked, turning slightly as he paced.
”No!” Imogen responded, perhaps too quickly. ”Please, continue.”
The Chief gave her a questioning look, then turned back to the assembled Orkhan. “We may have only hours before they get here. Under the present circumstances, I believe it is my duty to call for a vote- to stay and fight, or abandon the village.”
When Imogen had escaped Koidhouo’uv, she had expected… well, not much, really. The shock of her meeting with the Vonaid Koid had scared the thoughts right out of her skull for quite a while, leaving her to cling to Ovonain’s fur for hours as the placid beast swam quickly upstream.
In the night, however, it had become readily apparent that Koid’s herd of fire-beasts had not returned to Koidhouo’uv. On the banks she watched lights flicker throughout the fire-swamp as the beasts trampled through the muddy terrain, sparking quick blazes as they went. Once, she had even heard a great, primal scream, like the bleating of a goat ten thousand times too large.
That one was going to haunt her nightmares, no doubt.
Still, capybara and lemur had pulled ahead of any pursuing beasts with relative ease, aided by the river’s gentle current and long-dead Gihah’s ancient animosity towards the invading fire. Once Ovonain crossed the threshold of the fire-swamps and the Gihah’s retaining lake was in sight, Imogen had allowed herself to relax. The Vonaid Koid might be a god, a force of nature which dwarfed her and her tiny spark of a soul, but it was not beyond nature. It would rage and trample, yes, but even a fire as vast as Ecith itself could not cross the span of the lake of Gihah.
It was an exhausting trip, and Imogen herself was a profoundly heavy sleeper. Still, her time in Nod that night was not peaceful. She dreamt of the Pfenning Theater, and of its dark hall, the almost-silent susurration of the nearly-invisible audience running along the walkways and stairs like soft water lapping at a shore.
As she watched from the darkness, her friend Carina had taken the stage- except it wasn’t Carina at all. The human girl, who looked like she might have been Carina’s sister, all pale skin and bundled black tresses, had taken the stage and bowed, then looked up at the audience with a crazed smile. In that smile, Imogen suddenly realized that she was staring at herself.
Carinagen winked at Imogen, her smile growing even wider, and intoned:
Imogen woke to the sound of wind.
In the early morning, a cold wind swept Gihah K'uvfoi'uv Fi'uv. It was strange, and harsh, but it did little more than cause some children to shiver. It wound its way through the houses, jangling the wind chimes of the old Orkhan unpleasantly, and drew a furrowed skyward brow from Chief Oping. It shook the lower trees, and caused a brief burst of frenzied panic from the sifaka colony of the northern forest, many of whom sought shelter in the opulent treehouse-palace of their lemur chief, Halftail.
And then, without further ado, it froze the entire lake.
A few hours later, Imogen sat with most of the adult population of Gihah on the Heart island, listening to Chief Oping.
“I have sent Ovonain to confirm, but I know what his report will be.”
The Chief stood on a raised stone platform, worn smooth by generations of Orkhan feet, holding his staff in one hand and the Deepwater Vein in the other. The Heart island was crowded with worried Orks, many clutching weapons of some variety.
It was uncharacteristically chill, and the reason for that was not helping anyone relax. The Heart island perched atop the falls leading into the retaining lake… ordinarily. Now, the falls were just icicles, slowly dripping into the huge crater of ice below.
“We must consider the foreigner’s presence.” one of the Orkhan men insisted- with a start, Imogen realized it was the same young man who had teased her about scales and groins weeks ago. Apparently the “distant cousin” conceit could be dropped quickly when fear demanded it. “Koid’s herd might approach us at the height of Searing, but this timing is no coincidence. It has chased her here.”
“And did the Vonaid Koid freeze the lake, too?” Fioh jumped in, angry, “Or perhaps you think Im…ogen did that with the secret elemental rune I missed when she was abed with fever?”
The young man looked uncomfortable, but did not back down. “It is conjecture, I know. But she could have a conspirator, hidden in the wild. It cannot be coincidence that this happens now, just as the Vonaid Koid chases her.”
Chief Oping banged his staff on the stone, hard. “This is the act of no elementalist.”
That got a murmur going. Coid Ong Oping was dragon-trained, gifted with an understanding of the powers of the Land which dwarfed any of the village’s orks.
“The beasts close in as always, yes. But the wind which has frozen Gihah’s spirit has not died down- it whirls behind the herd, drawing them in. That is no simple spell. I do not know what it is.”
Chief Oping shook his head.
“We have only hours before the herd closes in. We may be a match for the fire beasts alone, even without Gihah’s spirit- but if Vonaid Koid comes after, or the wind turns on us, our sword-arms will fail.” It was a simple declaration, matter-of-fact. “If we abandon the Gihah, I do not know that we will reclaim it. Our people would need to seek shelter in Drathera, or turn to the mercy of the Green Flight.”
This provoked a great cry of outrage from the assembled villagers, who fell immediately to shouting or arguing amongst themselves. Imogen hardly paid any attention as the Chief called a vote, though it sounded to her like many of the villagers preferred to stay and hold back the fire-beats with whatever weapons Gihah could muster.
Gihah.
Hm.
As the convocation broke into groups of Orkhan discussing how to make their preparations to fight or flee, Imogen rose and quickly caught up to Chief Oping.
“Imogen,” he began, “I am sorry that things have gone as they have, but I do not want you to endanger yourself for-”
“Right, sure, just a second.” she interrupted him, pulling him aside, “Chief Oping, the problem is the lake, right? The frozen water? With that, you could easily repel the herd?”
“Easily, no,” Chief Oping demurred, “But yes, with Gihah’s aid, our defense would be much-”
“Great, so, the problem is that the spirit is frozen. Let’s thaw it out.”
“As Fioh aptly noted, Imogen, you are no elementalist. The power it would take to thaw so much water would kill a mortal mage a hundred times.”
Imogen shook her head. “No, the ice wants to thaw. All we need to do is remove whatever is afflicting it.”
As the Chief gave her another concerned look, Imogen sighed with frustration. “I can do that, I promise. And if it doesn’t work, we’re in no worse shape than before.”
“Except that you might hurt yourself attempting this.”
“Chief Oping, please,” Imogen said, “I’m not an elementalist, or a great mage, or even a particularly good witch. But there’s one thing I know very well, and that’s swords.”
*What is the least-lethal spot to stab a spirit, anyway?* Imogen wondered to herself. Surely spirits couldn’t really die from a stabbing wound? There was certainly a lot to learn.
Ordinarily, Chief Oping conducted rituals in the Heart chamber, the cavern beneath the village which was connected to the depths of Gihah’s lake. Given the ice clogging the channels, however, the Chief had decided that the most likely place to attempt Imogen’s impromptu ritual was on the frozen lake itself.
Visibility was low, at first, as the icy water seethed against the mid-Searing heat of Ecith, but Chief Oping waved a hand and wiped away a great swath of fog before he began to work.
The Chief walked slowly across the ice, eyes closed, his face a mask of silent concentration. The ice seemed to shift beneath him as he went, the slowly thawing water aching for the power of his magic to fill it. Over the course of long minutes, the Chief inscribed a great circle upon the lake with his staff.
Then, satisfied with his work, the Orkhan mage raised the Deepwater Vein to the sky… and brought it down across his arm, a quick, slicing motion. Dark, hot blood dripped down onto the circle in the ice below, steaming.
“Gihah!” the Chief called, “Arise!”
The circle of ice inscribed on the lake shattered, and a great, frozen hulk lurched up from the depths. It was a huge, bulky thing- nothing like as large as the Primal Monitor must have been in life, but still big enough to dwarf the dinosaur which Imogen had fought on her way from Drathera. It clambered against the frozen water, vaguely lizardlike form indistinct in the fog and spray.
Imogen wasted no time, unwilling to let her mind be lulled into shocked awe the way the presence of the Vonaid Koid had done. She brought her hands to her side and they filled with argent fire, aether spreading across her soul until the weight of the huge blade she had bonded with all those years ago was in her hands once more. The sword burst into flame, but she continued to channel herself into that, willing the nova to grow bigger and brighter, until her soul felt like she was squeezing an empty bladder.
When the fire was as potent as she could manage, Imogen walked slowly across the ice (she really could not overstate how embarrassing a slip and fall would be now) and drove the sword directly at the frozen spirit.
It had been less than two days since Imogen Ward’s first major failure as a Sunsinger, but it was starting to look like this might be less of a “hold back tears while reporting” failure and more of a “stay in this cell until we can assemble a military tribunal” affair.
”...I’m too young to be a mass murderer.” Imogen whispered to herself. It didn’t help very much. She clenched a hand compulsively, opening and closing her fingers slowly.
“Did you say something, Imogen?” Chief Oping asked, turning slightly as he paced.
”No!” Imogen responded, perhaps too quickly. ”Please, continue.”
The Chief gave her a questioning look, then turned back to the assembled Orkhan. “We may have only hours before they get here. Under the present circumstances, I believe it is my duty to call for a vote- to stay and fight, or abandon the village.”
~~~
When Imogen had escaped Koidhouo’uv, she had expected… well, not much, really. The shock of her meeting with the Vonaid Koid had scared the thoughts right out of her skull for quite a while, leaving her to cling to Ovonain’s fur for hours as the placid beast swam quickly upstream.
In the night, however, it had become readily apparent that Koid’s herd of fire-beasts had not returned to Koidhouo’uv. On the banks she watched lights flicker throughout the fire-swamp as the beasts trampled through the muddy terrain, sparking quick blazes as they went. Once, she had even heard a great, primal scream, like the bleating of a goat ten thousand times too large.
That one was going to haunt her nightmares, no doubt.
Still, capybara and lemur had pulled ahead of any pursuing beasts with relative ease, aided by the river’s gentle current and long-dead Gihah’s ancient animosity towards the invading fire. Once Ovonain crossed the threshold of the fire-swamps and the Gihah’s retaining lake was in sight, Imogen had allowed herself to relax. The Vonaid Koid might be a god, a force of nature which dwarfed her and her tiny spark of a soul, but it was not beyond nature. It would rage and trample, yes, but even a fire as vast as Ecith itself could not cross the span of the lake of Gihah.
~~~
It was an exhausting trip, and Imogen herself was a profoundly heavy sleeper. Still, her time in Nod that night was not peaceful. She dreamt of the Pfenning Theater, and of its dark hall, the almost-silent susurration of the nearly-invisible audience running along the walkways and stairs like soft water lapping at a shore.
As she watched from the darkness, her friend Carina had taken the stage- except it wasn’t Carina at all. The human girl, who looked like she might have been Carina’s sister, all pale skin and bundled black tresses, had taken the stage and bowed, then looked up at the audience with a crazed smile. In that smile, Imogen suddenly realized that she was staring at herself.
Carinagen winked at Imogen, her smile growing even wider, and intoned:
Now storms in rivalry are raging,
From Sea to Land, from Land to Sea
In frenzy, forge the world a girdle
From which no inmost part is free.
The blight of lightnings burning yonder
Marks where the thunderbolt must play
These inconceivable creations
Retain the high state of their first day!
From Sea to Land, from Land to Sea
In frenzy, forge the world a girdle
From which no inmost part is free.
The blight of lightnings burning yonder
Marks where the thunderbolt must play
These inconceivable creations
Retain the high state of their first day!
~~~
Imogen woke to the sound of wind.
In the early morning, a cold wind swept Gihah K'uvfoi'uv Fi'uv. It was strange, and harsh, but it did little more than cause some children to shiver. It wound its way through the houses, jangling the wind chimes of the old Orkhan unpleasantly, and drew a furrowed skyward brow from Chief Oping. It shook the lower trees, and caused a brief burst of frenzied panic from the sifaka colony of the northern forest, many of whom sought shelter in the opulent treehouse-palace of their lemur chief, Halftail.
And then, without further ado, it froze the entire lake.
~~~
A few hours later, Imogen sat with most of the adult population of Gihah on the Heart island, listening to Chief Oping.
“I have sent Ovonain to confirm, but I know what his report will be.”
The Chief stood on a raised stone platform, worn smooth by generations of Orkhan feet, holding his staff in one hand and the Deepwater Vein in the other. The Heart island was crowded with worried Orks, many clutching weapons of some variety.
It was uncharacteristically chill, and the reason for that was not helping anyone relax. The Heart island perched atop the falls leading into the retaining lake… ordinarily. Now, the falls were just icicles, slowly dripping into the huge crater of ice below.
“We must consider the foreigner’s presence.” one of the Orkhan men insisted- with a start, Imogen realized it was the same young man who had teased her about scales and groins weeks ago. Apparently the “distant cousin” conceit could be dropped quickly when fear demanded it. “Koid’s herd might approach us at the height of Searing, but this timing is no coincidence. It has chased her here.”
“And did the Vonaid Koid freeze the lake, too?” Fioh jumped in, angry, “Or perhaps you think Im…ogen did that with the secret elemental rune I missed when she was abed with fever?”
The young man looked uncomfortable, but did not back down. “It is conjecture, I know. But she could have a conspirator, hidden in the wild. It cannot be coincidence that this happens now, just as the Vonaid Koid chases her.”
Chief Oping banged his staff on the stone, hard. “This is the act of no elementalist.”
That got a murmur going. Coid Ong Oping was dragon-trained, gifted with an understanding of the powers of the Land which dwarfed any of the village’s orks.
“The beasts close in as always, yes. But the wind which has frozen Gihah’s spirit has not died down- it whirls behind the herd, drawing them in. That is no simple spell. I do not know what it is.”
Chief Oping shook his head.
“We have only hours before the herd closes in. We may be a match for the fire beasts alone, even without Gihah’s spirit- but if Vonaid Koid comes after, or the wind turns on us, our sword-arms will fail.” It was a simple declaration, matter-of-fact. “If we abandon the Gihah, I do not know that we will reclaim it. Our people would need to seek shelter in Drathera, or turn to the mercy of the Green Flight.”
This provoked a great cry of outrage from the assembled villagers, who fell immediately to shouting or arguing amongst themselves. Imogen hardly paid any attention as the Chief called a vote, though it sounded to her like many of the villagers preferred to stay and hold back the fire-beats with whatever weapons Gihah could muster.
Gihah.
Hm.
As the convocation broke into groups of Orkhan discussing how to make their preparations to fight or flee, Imogen rose and quickly caught up to Chief Oping.
“Imogen,” he began, “I am sorry that things have gone as they have, but I do not want you to endanger yourself for-”
“Right, sure, just a second.” she interrupted him, pulling him aside, “Chief Oping, the problem is the lake, right? The frozen water? With that, you could easily repel the herd?”
“Easily, no,” Chief Oping demurred, “But yes, with Gihah’s aid, our defense would be much-”
“Great, so, the problem is that the spirit is frozen. Let’s thaw it out.”
“As Fioh aptly noted, Imogen, you are no elementalist. The power it would take to thaw so much water would kill a mortal mage a hundred times.”
Imogen shook her head. “No, the ice wants to thaw. All we need to do is remove whatever is afflicting it.”
As the Chief gave her another concerned look, Imogen sighed with frustration. “I can do that, I promise. And if it doesn’t work, we’re in no worse shape than before.”
“Except that you might hurt yourself attempting this.”
“Chief Oping, please,” Imogen said, “I’m not an elementalist, or a great mage, or even a particularly good witch. But there’s one thing I know very well, and that’s swords.”
~~~
*What is the least-lethal spot to stab a spirit, anyway?* Imogen wondered to herself. Surely spirits couldn’t really die from a stabbing wound? There was certainly a lot to learn.
Ordinarily, Chief Oping conducted rituals in the Heart chamber, the cavern beneath the village which was connected to the depths of Gihah’s lake. Given the ice clogging the channels, however, the Chief had decided that the most likely place to attempt Imogen’s impromptu ritual was on the frozen lake itself.
Visibility was low, at first, as the icy water seethed against the mid-Searing heat of Ecith, but Chief Oping waved a hand and wiped away a great swath of fog before he began to work.
The Chief walked slowly across the ice, eyes closed, his face a mask of silent concentration. The ice seemed to shift beneath him as he went, the slowly thawing water aching for the power of his magic to fill it. Over the course of long minutes, the Chief inscribed a great circle upon the lake with his staff.
Then, satisfied with his work, the Orkhan mage raised the Deepwater Vein to the sky… and brought it down across his arm, a quick, slicing motion. Dark, hot blood dripped down onto the circle in the ice below, steaming.
“Gihah!” the Chief called, “Arise!”
The circle of ice inscribed on the lake shattered, and a great, frozen hulk lurched up from the depths. It was a huge, bulky thing- nothing like as large as the Primal Monitor must have been in life, but still big enough to dwarf the dinosaur which Imogen had fought on her way from Drathera. It clambered against the frozen water, vaguely lizardlike form indistinct in the fog and spray.
Imogen wasted no time, unwilling to let her mind be lulled into shocked awe the way the presence of the Vonaid Koid had done. She brought her hands to her side and they filled with argent fire, aether spreading across her soul until the weight of the huge blade she had bonded with all those years ago was in her hands once more. The sword burst into flame, but she continued to channel herself into that, willing the nova to grow bigger and brighter, until her soul felt like she was squeezing an empty bladder.
When the fire was as potent as she could manage, Imogen walked slowly across the ice (she really could not overstate how embarrassing a slip and fall would be now) and drove the sword directly at the frozen spirit.