Mwyr - Chapter Twenty

[lady_mab]

She knelt low over the stones, and he lurked behind her. Frustrated, fidgeting, moving his weight from one foot to the other. 

“Knock that off, would you,” she snapped, far more harshly than she had intended. “You’re going to make me anxious.” Her fingers moved to brush aside the dust, and again, she was overcome with the feeling of familiarity (the hot sun beating down on the back of her neck, a brush gripping in her hands, friendly voices calling from just behind her as they worked). She shook it off and kept working. 

Here, there was nothing. Darkness, grey and unsettling, covered everything as thick as the dust. Nothing gave off light. Not even her. In a world built for only five gods, there wasn’t much need for extravagance. 

“You’re a fool if you think this is going to work, Sister,” he warned. 

She reeled back with a cry of victory. This stage of her search was over. “Nervous?” 

“Older brothers don’t get nervous. Just concerned for their sibling’s safety.” He marveled at the way her head toss looked so much like their mother’s. “Father warned you not to.” 

“Father is jealous. You’re not jealous, are you, Giltine?” She looked up and batted her eyelashes in his direction. 

He frowned. “Of course not. I just don’t want to see you getting in trouble.” 

A sigh escaped her and her fingers worked under the slab. “Don’t say anything, and I won’t. I brought you because I trust you.” 

His head tilted to the side, and he watched her work with a studied seriousness. It was that expression that made her look like their father. “Not Rasa or Usin? I thought you were close to Usin--” 

“Ah, you are jealous!” She rose to her feet, holding the stone between both of her hands. It was blank now, but he knew that she would soon draw the rune on it and she would not be able to pull back the tides. “No, they would both report back to Father. We’re on the same side, aren’t we? Oldest and youngest?” 

Her smile only made his frown deepen. He crossed his arms over his chest. and refused to rise to the teasing tilt of her brow. “And I’m just supposed to play along until one of us gets caught? What sort of joy am I supposed to get out of that?” 

She hummed in thought, fingers tapping against the stone. “I know!” She closed the distance in the blink of an eye, pressing closer until he had to grab the stone slab to force her back. 

Neither of them released it.

Instead, her bright blue eyes glittered with the light of the sun that was made in her image. The favorite child, the youngest. “You can name it.” The tip of her finger traced the outline of the rune soon to follow. 

A diamond speared through the middle by a line hooked at either end. 

“Mwyr,” he said, on impulse. “Hope.” 

Her face broke into a smile that could brighten even the darkest recesses of their parents’ heavens. “Mwyr,” she echoed. “Hope.” 

#

Adder woke to find a low, stone ceiling faint in the darkness of the room. His chest heaved for air. Sleep still gripped his limbs and did not allow him the freedom of movement he desired. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, fingers wriggling in response. Unable to do anything else, he took stock of his surroundings to bring himself further out of the reaches of the dream. 

Across the room, he could hear the steady breathing of his companions. Iohel and Waden. He was in Hullenscir. He was on his way to see the Goddess. 

Sister. 

The word still burned on his mouth, as if it was he who had said it and not the distant version of him in a dream. He willed himself to shake off the last of the sleep. 

With a deep groan, he rolled toward the floor and caught the edge of the bed before he could sprawl face-first onto the rug beneath his feet. 

The other two remained sleeping. Just as well. He didn’t want either of them asking what had shaken him. 

Adder crossed to the window, pulling open the slatted blinds to peer up at the sky. The twin moons hung low -- Rasa hugging the distant spire of the Church, Usin barely visible over the edge of the wall. Giltine would rise later. A half-crescent of red to glare down at the people sleeping, waiting for their sun to crest the horizon. 

Odd that it was just the two of them that returned, but she was right: They always had been the closest. 

He closed his eyes and shut the blinds, once more plunging the room into darkness. 

Unlike the Goddess, he had no magic -- nothing that would allow him to sense her. That didn’t stop the dreams from haunting him as much as they did her. 

He hoped that they disrupted her sleep as much as they did his. It was all her fault to begin with. She had known not to play with their father’s tools. 

It was supposed to be their glory together. He named it, after all. 

Adder hissed at a sudden shock of pain. He could almost make out the red crescent in the palm of his hand from where the nails had bit into the skin. He lifted his hand to his mouth. Even his blood tasted mundane. 

Where the Goddess has the sweet tang of magic running through her body, the power given to her by the act of creation, he had to fight to be noticed. His own family was afraid of him. 

How embarrassing, to have Rasa and Usin act as babysitters. To make sure he didn’t do exactly what he planned on doing. 

He spat on the floor, and pretended that the lingering taste of metal was not just the painful reminder of his human body. “I’ll find you soon enough, little sister,” he murmured to himself, making his way back to his bed. 

After finishing this little farce for the Church, he would be able to personally thank her for all the trouble that she put him through. 

#

Arika couldn’t remember the man from her dream. He wasn’t the same face she had grown used to seeing -- Philip, all sharp angles and soft eyes, who helped her through her first visit to Mwyr. It was the man from one of her first dreams, from the endless grey landscape. 

Giltine. Rasa and Usin. Those were the three moons. 

She looked up, expecting to see the distant ceiling. Instead she saw the stars scattered about the dark sky. 

For a moment, a part of her far older than the first Goddess sighed in time with the heavens and longed for home. 

Then the panic set in. 

When did she get outside? How had she managed to slip past Cairo and Sera, both of whom remained in her private rooms? Then there were the guards outside her door. So many obstacles -- and she knew because she had tried to sneak past them several times. How could a sleepwalking girl managed to evade them all? 

With the Church behind her, Arika received the full light of the moons gracing the top of her head. The shadows stretched away, as if scattering at the sight of her. She faced out toward the forest. 

Her eyes slipped shut as the wind rustled the branches of the thin trees. One of her teachers in the Church explained that the woods grew thicker further in, becoming dense forests around the kingdom of Gi’Han. 

A whisper of old magic tickled her ear. When she opened her eyes again, one of the winged creatures stood before her. 

Her breath caught in her throat, but she managed to control her other reactions. He was not something to fear. “You’re the one from the first night, aren’t you? The one when I woke up under the tree.” 

He ducked his head, wings fluttering in response to the attention. “I apologize, Lady. I did not mean to harm you.” 

“You were acting under orders. I understand. Will you tell me your name?” 

He looked up with such a state of surprise that she hurried to explain herself. “Sol told me that it would all depend on you to tell me your names.” She lifted a hand to her heart, feeling the faint, steady beat beneath her palm. It still had not completely calmed after the dream, or finding herself outside. 

The creature couldn’t decide if he wanted to match her gaze. His dark eyes kept flickering from her feet to her face to the walls behind her. “It is Adil, my lady.” 

The first Goddess stirred at the name, but the words that left her mouth were her own. “You know my name. I want you to use it.” 

A strange, grating noise escaped him, and this time he couldn’t look away from her. “I couldn’t. I would never dream of it--” 

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to.” As much as a part of her wanted to force him to use her name, she knew it was unfair. Not after what Cairo had explained to her. “Can you tell me something?” 

He bowed, finally able to break the contact. “Of course. I owe you that much, at least.” It felt like there should have been more tacked on, but when he didn’t elaborate, she didn’t push. 

“I’ve been having dreams. Of my past lives. Most of it, I have been able to piece together, but there is one thing that has been bothering me.” She took a step closer, and marveled at the way he retreated. Just like Sol. They did not want her to be close to them. “Philip. Who is he?” 

Adil’s expression crumbled in an altogether too human fashion. “It will not do you any good to think about him, Lady. What he did to you--” 

“I need to know.” This time, she pushed her magic down into the earth and reached for him, holding him in place as she approached. 

He tried to jerk back, but she maintained her grip. Her hands clamped around his scaled wrists and a spark bit into her palm and burned the tips of her fingers. “Who is he?” 

“He came with you when you first arrived on Mwyr.” The words left his mouth in a jumble, twisted and heavy with emotion. “I don’t know. I never asked, but that was the only explanation you provided. We thought he was like you. He had magic, too. Not as strong as yours, but it is obvious to those of us without it.” 

Arika closed her eyes and tried to remember. What came before Mwyr -- what the difference between that small white room with the tacky green carpet and the empty grey stone room was. All she could call up were images she already saw in dreams, and those did little to answer her questions. “What did he do to you?” 

“To me?” He laughed. “What he did to us is nothing compared to what he did to you.” 

“That’s enough now, Adil. The Goddess has had a rough time these last two days. No need to get her worked up.” The voice disrupted her thoughts, and her grasp slipped away. The Ti’Corrah paused long enough to press something into her hands before spreading his wings to carry him out of her reach. 

When she looked, she thought for a moment that Philip had returned. 

But then the angles of his face did not soften at the sight of her the way a part of her thought they might. The hardness of his eyes was what reminded her of who he was. “You’re Chan’s brother. Loki. I remember you from that night.” 

He swept into an elaborate bow -- though not quick enough to hide his smirk. “I am honored that you remember me, Goddess. You are looking much better. Getting out of Wellfox has seem to have done you some good.” 

“Don’t mock me. I haven’t forgiven you for attacking me that night.” Her hands flexed at her sides, and her blood rose to the call. 

Loki’s eyebrows arched and something resembling amusement took hold of his expression. “You are getting some of your old powers back. I am glad. I hated to think that things had gone as wrong as I had feared and that my sister died for nothing.” 

The Ti’Corrah dropped closer to the ground, but not enough to be in reach of her magic should she decide to try something again. “Sir--” 

“You can go now, Adil. You should not be here, and I am upset that you are disobeying my orders.” He glanced at the monster out of the corner of his eye. “Do not anger me.” 

Adil glanced at Arika. She caught the blaze of anger in his dark eyes as he forced out “Yes, Sir,” between gritted teeth. He didn’t give her another chance to react before he vanished into the heavy shadows of the night. 

She turned her attention to the object gripped in her hands. It was a small black notebook with the same insignia as her sweatshirt. It tingled against her skin, pleasant and familiar. “Who are you in all this, Loki?” 

He maintained his distance, studying her with the careful eye of an observer. “Sometimes I still ask myself that. You know, when I forget.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“Who are you, in all this, Arika?” 

Her heart jumped to attention at the sound of her name, but it was a confusing jumble of emotions that she couldn’t figure out how to start pulling apart. “I am their Goddess.” 

“Is that what you believe?” 

“I am starting to.” 

This seemed to disappoint him more than she thought it should have. “I see. I’m sorry. This isn’t going to end well, then.” 

Arika’s free hand curled into a weak fist. The other clutched the notebook to her chest, knowing that it would hold what she looked for. 

Loki noticed the journal for the first time. “What is that?” 

“Answers. More questions.” She shrugged, feigning disinterest. “Not all of us know everything already.” 

He laughed, but there was no trace of amusement in the sound. “I know very little. I might have the Ti’Corrah, but they do not listen to me.” 

“They seem to fear you.” 

“Fear is not respect, Goddess.” He took a step closer to her, and she instinctively hid the journal behind her back. His bemused laughter echoed hollow in the space between them again. “I don’t want that, Arika. Keep it. It will make more sense to you than to me, I’m afraid.” 

Her muscles relaxed, and a moment later, shoulders slumped. “I never asked for this, you know. I did not want to tear your family apart. I didn’t want the hope of an entire country riding on my ability to make people happy. I certainly did not want a death sentence hanging over my head.” 

This time when he started to approach her, she let him. “None of us wanted this. But we’re all caught up in it now. More than either of us even realize, I’m afraid.” 

When she looked up, she caught the whiff of magic that had become so common to her over the last few days. Deep inside, a part of her already knew the answer. But the original Goddess did not want to believe it. “I’m not the only one that returned, am I?’ 

The edges to his eyes finally softened and the unasked question hung heavy in the air. “No, Arika. You’re not.” 

A choked sob escaped past her lips and her heart broke. “What did you do?” 

“Are you asking me, or who I used to be?” Something flickered behind his eyes as her hand touched his cheek. His magic pulled against hers. “Neither of us are who we used to be.” 

“Then how is it that I look just like her? How is it that I share her name?” 

She hated the way he closed back up at her questions. He took her hand between both of his own and lowered it from his face. “You have always been the exception, you know.” It sounded more like an accusation than a statement of fact. “Appearances and end goals can only carry you so far. That is all we share in common. It’s up to us to decide how to get there, and what we’ll achieve in the end.” 

He withdrew from her, but she maintained her grip on his hand until it stretched as far as it would go. “Keep safe, Goddess. I will see you again soon.” 

“Philip--” The name fell from her mouth before she could reel it back in, but he silenced her with a kiss to her knuckles. 

Despite the ice in his gaze, his words retained their softness. “Just as that body is no longer my sister’s, we are not the same clueless kids who thought they created a world. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t work together.” 

Loki freed himself from her completely, and pointed to the notebook in her hand. “I hope that clears some things up for you. And I hope you still consider my offer, regardless of what you read about our shared history.” 

Before she could get the chance to reply, the shadows swallowed him up and she was left standing alone. 

Arika glanced back up at the sky, and the three moons that looked down on her from above. If she was the Goddess, the embodiment of the sun, then the three moons were her older siblings. She stretched an arm up toward them, letting her fingers twirl in the space that spanned years. 

Her breath wheezed in her lungs, thick and filled with stardust. “This is unfair,” she told them. 

They answered her with a night heavy with silence.