"Splitting Apart. It does not further one to go anywhere."
-The Book of ChangesFather Akame was jostled awake as his wagon bounced over the ruts in the road. He made a low grunt and lightly tapped each cheek twice with his fingertips in a misconstrued attempt to keep his eyes open. It didn't matter, he thought smugly to himself, good Ol' Blue, his trusty rivnak, was smart enough to stick to the road, and lazy enough not to move at a pace faster than an evening's stroll. The good priest smacked his lips and reached for his canteen from underneath the wagon bench. He brought it to his lips and drank thirstily. With a satisfied "Aah", he settled back into his robes and took in the surrounding countryside.
The crystal was shining at its brightest; the Summer's heat oppressive in the open fields of the Barn. The season's crop of wheat was near ready for harvest, the wind creating patterns of golden waves as it swept across the fields. It's a wonder, the dermorian priest thought, how these enkidukai could produce such a bountiful harvest even with this years drought. He was not used to the summer crystal's heat, as he spent his days in prayer and isolation in the forested mountains outside of town.
As a Priest of Xiosia, his life was a simple one, of peace and balance. He kept to himself in a small hermitage which consisted of a living apartment, a small chapel, and a vineyard were he grew terrevan berries. Occasionally he had visitors, faithful from the surrounding countryside, who came to him for teachings, guidance, or for prayer. His guests would often bring him food and supplies in exchange. Every several days he tried to make trips into the outlying villages, to greet the masses and to offer help to those in need. His was a humble existence, no need for airs and pageantry, just service to the Great Mother and all her children.
This trip, however, had its own unique purpose. An old friend and former student of his had appealed to him to take in her eldest daughter as a student. He knew the child and her family well; it was only a few years ago the child had emerged from a brush with death only to remain mute and rather unresponsive to the world. It was then he had been called to their house to pray over the young girl, to bring the passion of life back into her body. His attempts had failed. Now, it seemed, the girl had regained her vigor and speech, but a new problem had arisen; an attempt had been made to capture her.
The news had travelled fast, as it tends to do in small towns. The story was told how the fenki girl and her sister had been out camping when they were attacked by an avid Azure Way mage. It seemed the younger sister had acted valiantly and attacked the mage, destroying his mind by throwing the glyph he was psychically linked to into a fire. What a way to go, thought the good priest. The mage was dermorian, like himself, but was dressed in strange, fine clothes. It was obvious he had come from distant lands. Something about it didn't sit right with the priest; why would an advanced mage travel far distances to kidnap a poor young fenki child? Perhaps it was the same uneasy feeling that had prompted her mother to ask him to take her in.
Rivnak, cart, and driver meandered into town without much notice. The summer's heat had driven much of the townsfolk inside. Father Akame took note of the squat, round houses, made of thick walls of mud brick. It wasn't that he found this type of architecture distasteful, but it contrasted with his elven sensibilities. He preferred lofty wooden structures set in the shades of the forest. Yet, he understood how the earthen walls kept out the crystal's heat, providing a cool reprise for these hard working agrarian people.
He drove the cart through the dusty streets and came upon the healer's home, pulling up along side it. The sweet and spicy fragrances of the herb garden mixed with the warm air, wafting up to his nostrils and invigorating him from after the day's journey. He pulled from his canteen, cleared his throat, and called out, "Tacutsi, my child! Hail Xiosia! I am arrived!"
The dry red earth crumbled beneath his feet as he climbed down from the cart. The stiffness in his legs shot up his spine and he took the time to slowly straighten himself out. He placed his hands flat on his lower back and arched in an overextension, his spine aligning itself in a series of pops. He stood in idle recovery of newly released tension, contemplating the pink blossoms of a nearby tree, when the heavy wooden door to the healer's home opened inward.
A small fuzzy head poked out, silvery white with black markings, the younger of the two daughters, he remembered. He smiled with warmth and friendliness, as her azure eyes caught sight of him. Her head briskly withdrew back in doors, and he heard the familiar childhood alarm, "MoooOOOthERRR! There's somebody here!"
The good father stood patiently in the yard, pulling at the sleeves of his white robes, trying to look at least presentable. The heavy door opened fully, and within it's frame stood Tacutsi, the local healer of these parts.
She beamed, "Father Akame, how good to see you. Welcome in. Are you well?"
The priest returned the smile automatically. Tacutsi was among Xiosia's faithful and a former student; their friendship ran deep. He crossed the yard and accepted her invitation within. He placed a hand upon her shoulder as he crossed the threshold, "I am well child. The journey was pleasant enough, but I can stand to withdraw from this heat."
"Please, have a seat."
The good father found comfort on one of the silken pillows lain about a low circular table. Tacutsi rushed to the kitchen area and returned with a tray full of fresh fruit and cheeses, drizzled with golden honey.
"Girls!" She cried out in a motherly terseness, "Come say hello to Father Akame."
From the offices adjacent to the main home, the two young fenkis timidly emerged. Father Akame licked his fingers and smiled at them, "Ah, Aramara, you grow as beautiful as your mother more and more each time I see you, and Icerra, I can see you have gained your father's strength."
Icerra guffawed with pride at this flattery, while Aramara bowed her head in modesty, which made her appear like her mother even more. "Thank you Father, I hope you are well."
"Ah, it is good to hear you have your voice back Aramara. I was afraid our conversations were going to be one sided."
Father Akame chuckled lightly at his own joke, but the young fenki did not appear amused. Instead her eyes betrayed a hint of sadness as she looked at him, an expression he would grow used to over time, and only fully understand once it was too late.
"Aramara," her mother broke the silence, "Why don't you go gather your things while Father Akame rests from his journey."
The young akkaio bowed her head and began collecting her few personal items in silent obedience. Her sister bounded over to the table where Father Akame sat and grinned at him, her bright eyes expecting one of the tales of adventure he was fond of telling.
The good priest told Icerra of a proud fenki warrior princess, much like herself, who was out hunting one day when she came upon a giant jade rabbit. She chased the rabbit king through field and forest, across mighty rivers and over the tallest mountains until she had him cornered in a deep canyon. The rabbit king spoke to the huntress, "You have bested me in this hunt, but I am the King of Rabbits, and I hold great power. I can grant you life immortal if you choose to spare mine." The warrior princess took the Rabbit King up on his proposal, and he lifted her up all the way to the stone sky, where they live in eternity, watching the remaining mortals live out their lives below.
"What's a rabbit?" Icerra asked as Father Akame finished his tale.
He sat scratching his head, for he didn't know either. "Umm, well you see, it's a small furry animal, that hops around and, uhhh, has long floppy ears."
Icerra rolled on the floor laughing at the absurdity of such a creature. The dermorian cracked a smile, happy that his quick thinking had saved him from embarrassment. It is a shameful thing for an adult to not be able to answer a child's simple question.
By the time he had finished relating his tale, the crystal had begun to wane, and Aramara had finished gathering her belongings. Tacutsi had packed some a meal for them to take on the return journey, dried fruit and fish, bread and cheese. Canteens were filled from the cistern and Ol' Blue allowed to drink and graze. Father Akame packed the wagon while Aramara said farewell to her family. He was moved by the close bond they all shared, his heart filled with pride and love. He climbed aboard the wooden wagon and offered his hand to lift Aramara up. With tear filled eyes, she nodded solemnly and accepted it, as she had learned to accept fate.
* * *
Aramara strained to peer through the darkness. She was lost in the void of the Death Realm, a scared and frightened child, her only guide the strange old fenki she had met upon her arrival. But, without light, she could not see the way. She could not even see her paws in front of her face. She stood still, shivering, turning her head constantly until she caught a glimpse of her guide, the only light in the void, the glowing embers that were her eyes. She stumbled in their direction, until her guide turned to walk further away. So it went, and so it had gone for Aramara knew not how long. Time had no meaning in the void. She lost her sense of direction again, and again stood motionless, waiting for the two guiding flames to show themselves. In the distance they appeared, and again she made her way toward them, but this time the did not disappear. This time, as she approached, they stood fixed, burning in the dark.
Aramara noticed something else too. Next to the ancient fenki with burning eyes stood a squat little hut, shrouded in the mists of darkness. The ancient fenki stretched out a gnarled bony paw and opened a flap. "Enter," she spoke, her voice like a dry wind.
Aramara ducked inside. She was met with a burning fire with a clay pot sitting on top. "Sit," the dry voice commanded, and Aramara sat, her back against the stretched skins which comprised the walls of the hut. The ancient enki followed her inside and crouched over the pot, lifting its top and stirring the contents inside.
Aramara was met with a sharp odor carried with the steam of the boiling contents. The fenki seemed to be satisfied, as a curl appeared on the corners of her thin lips. She rummaged through a sack of items and pulled out a deep wooden bowl. Quickly, she plunged the bowl into the bubbling cauldron, seemingly unphased by the boiling brew within. With a toothy grin, she offered Aramara the bowl. She cackled, "Here child... drink."
Aramara took the bowl in both paws and looked up at her strange guide with eyes wide, "Wh..what is it?"
The fenki cackled again, the sound of wind blowing through a dead and hollow log, "Dear child, drink this and you will be shown the way back to your living world."
Aramara objected, "B... but, y.. you said..."
The flames in the fenkis eyes flared, "Drink!" she growled.
Aramara gulped in fear. Here she had followed this crooked and bent old fenki into an endless, deep well of darkness, was trapped in her hut, she saw no other option. She shut her eyes and crinkled her face as she lifted the bowl to her lips. The brew was sharp, hot and bitter.
"Drink all of it," her guide commanded. Aramara paused after her initial sip, then forced herself to drink the entire bowl.
The ancient fenki cackled loudly. She withdrew the pot from the fire, and replaced it with a bundle of dried herbs. The flames flares as the herbs caught fire, filling the small hut with a fragrant smoke. Aramara had flashes of her home, the scent of her mother. The fenki continued to cackle as she opened the flap of the hut and made her exit.
"Wait!" young Aramara cried out, and tried to lift herself up to follow, but suddenly felt her body grow unusually heavy. Her words seemed to hang in the air in front of her, mixing and swirling in the thick smoke. "Wait..." she repeated weakly.
A tingling sensation came over her. It seemed to start at the tip of her tail but it soon spread over her entire body. Her body began to vibrate at a high frequency. She felt warm, full of electricity. She lay back amongst the furs.
Strange lights began to dance amongst the smoke. Bright, vibrant colors would pop and disappear. The lights grew in number, popping in and out of existence before her. Soon the walls of the hut began to melt away into the black void beyond. Aramara found herself alone with the fire and the dancing lights.
The fire too began to dance and flash with color. It's hue changed from red, to purple, to blue to green. The colors began to flash so quickly that they blended into a brilliant white light. The flames lifted themselves from the ground and danced before her. Aramara heard her own voice echoing infinitely in all directions, "Wait!.... wait..... Wait!.... wait...."
Suddenly the fire erupted into a searing red and white inferno. Aramara stared into its depths. There were figures dancing within, living, burning skeletons. They leapt from within the flames and grabbed her, tearing off her flesh piece by piece, bit by bit. Aramara watched helplessly, somewhat amused as her body was reduced to a pile of ash. Somehow she was now floating above the whole scene, watching her body be destroyed by the flames.
Without her body, Aramara's senses all became one. The void of darkness was now filled with light, echoes of the flashing fire. Patterns of vibrant color radiated infinitely outwards in all dimension. Faces, eyes, mouths formed within the pulsating patterns, beaming love and warmth down upon her. The choir of infinite voices, her voice, chimed and reverberated, blended together in electric motor hum. The sharp bitter taste of the potion became swirling points of yellow light, the sweet smell of herb smoke was the warmth and glow surrounding her. She had become Spirit, was surrounded by Spirit, dwelt in the bosom of the Spirit Realm. The Fire Spirit before her announced her coming, became her guide, asked her simply, "What is it you want to know?"
"I want to know the way back to Life," she replied.
The fire now floated between her vision and the pile of ashes that was her former self. The flames began to form themselves into the shape of her old body, the form of the young fenki she used to be. Her ashes began to rise and form around the flames, creating a new body, a new vessel for her Spirit in the image of her old. When the formation of the new body was complete, Aramara felt herself drawn into it by the flames within. She entered in through the eyes, saw the light and felt the warmth of the Fire Spirit who now shared her body with her. What Aramara felt was love, completion. A voice, her own voice emerged from within, "I am." Aramara opened her eyes.
