Ch. 1
A New Form of Enemy
The sun stood on high, beaming down on the sands. On occasion, something shifted beneath, stirring the flattened surface. Nuyani peered out from beneath her arm for any signs of danger. She found herself sitting on a lone slab of stone sticking out of the sand. She hugged her legs close to her chest. It was the only sense of safety she felt. The only stability that seemed to make sense in her quest. Being exposed to the sun did not help her in the least.
Hot, Nuyani thought as she tried to keep herself cool.
Confident in her speed, she prepared enough rations for a few days into the desert from the drylands. What she did not anticipate were obstacles foreign to her as she had resided in her homeland all her life. The sand was hot and difficult to traverse; a few times, climbing atop the dunes only brought sand slides nearly toppling her in her trek. Worse yet, the terrain was difficult to run along on loose sand in comparison to compact dirt. It had only been ten days into the desert. She felt the weight of exhaustion settling in, her water skins nearly empty, and food rations running low. The towering red cliffs encircling her served as a stark reminder that she was still at the beginning of her journey—their jagged outlines, unyielding and vast, were visible in both the east and west.
Nuyani wiped her brow, loosening several drops of sweat that still remained, to her surprise. She fixed her gaze on the southern horizon and the wide expanse of the desert. Her ember-colored eyes glowed faintly in the light of the sun but remained strong as she looked into the distance. With slow, deep breaths, she tried to find some relief, only to find the air just as hot. Nothing to see. She lowered her head into her arms, shifting her wet, matted hair as a trail of sweat started to descend her bare back and down the crease of her spine. Clothed in runner’s wear only added to the issue. Made of red leather from a charge horn, it was a treated attire from a single hooded romper fitted tightly to the wearer with short sleeves and wooden buttons fastened down the front. The brim of the hood was often fitted to the brow to prevent it from blowing back. The arms and legs were covered in wraps and from the hip and shoulder down to the spaces between each digit.
Day in and day out, she had worn the clothing no matter the weather, and for good reason. Her people in the drylands of Kelvert wore the clothing for short periods of time to lure out the same game that they were made from. The charge horns, with their sturdy hides, were easy to lure out for ambush for decent archers to take shots at their necks. Now, however, Nuyani fought the lingering waves of fatigue threatening to make her pass out.
Removing the straps and top half of the clothing, she remained bare-chested, waiting for the breeze aside from two ivory medallions hanging on a leather cord around her neck. Nuyani watched as the two pieces dangled about. One was of a lone fox, a solitary animal that many found fitting for her nature. The other was of a woman engraved into the surface with fine detail, only to be marred by a hasty carving through the neck by one of the new guards within the village. The guard fired an arrow at her as she left into the desert. Seeing it brought a tear to Nuyani’s eye as the guilt welled within her.
I had to leave, or the storms won’t stop, Nuyani told herself once more. If I am a priestess, then I must do this for the village and for mother.
The explanation came again and again, changing with each attempt as Nuyani tried to find what words would quell any anger her village would have for her. To Nuyani, the world had been shifted so drastically that every decision felt as if it would both save and destroy her and the village. Nuyani’s thoughts dwelled on the past season. In the beginning, she was an outsider to the village. A sin and demon child marked with strange powers leaving her exiled from her people for a decade because of her eyes. Now, she was named priestess after saving the village by helping to resurrect their god, Kelvert. She had even learned the secrets of their true origin, proving the world was far larger than she could imagine. Nuyani tightened her hug. Her thoughts dwelled not on the victories. She was grateful, but there was one reason they survived. Her mother’s spirit had called to her. She had reached out to Nuyani, warning her of the threat that lingered in the desert. Every year, a sandstorm raged from the desert and reached the drylands with such force that the grains of sand could peel flesh from bone and carry large men away like a leaf in a gale. Each year, the storm grew stronger and lasted longer. Learning the origin of her powers from Kelvert, Nuyani was able to cut the storm short.
The storms had a source—a demon, witnessed by another people long before Nuyani’s, who had also perished in the desert’s unforgiving grasp. Nuyani tried to smile, finding that the demon lands, as her people called the desert, had a fitting name before they knew the whole truth. As she looked out into the desert, Nuyani thought, I will free you, Mother. I will stop this demon and the creatures plaguing us. Anger swelled in Nuyani, surprising her that she still had some strength to make a tight fist. Learning her powers and the difference between spirit and magic, Nuyani was warned by Kelvert that the storms harvested the souls and spirits of those slain. It was worse when the first agent of the sealed demon came to attack her. A pale blue spirit of a woman with a shriveled body and hands with long claw-like fingers. Her hair was sparse and floated about. She had sunken voids of black for eyes with only small iridescent glints at the center. Her lowered jaw passed her shoulders as if in a perpetual scream. Nuyani had discovered her powers that same night and first experienced the howls of the spirits that nearly managed to rip her soul from her body.
The reminiscing ceased when Nuyani then felt a ghostly pressure weigh on the side of her body. Like a finger lightly pressing on her skin, she felt the weight not on the surface of her body but on her core. An ethereal sphere that all living beings had what Kelvert had taught her was edria (magic). It was both the opposite and byproduct of spirit. The core within her was sensitive to the concentrated pool of prutosa (spirit) that was coming toward her. As her core released soundless waves echoing through air, stone, and sand, she felt every grain hitting her skin as if they were pebbles. The softest breeze was a strong gale. The smell of dirt nearly suffocated. The pool of spirit tunneling through the sand below the surface felt more like a pale weight of water compared to normal cup or bowl sizes she sensed in people or normal animals. Though the spirit’s pressure was confined to a single point and followed along her core like a compass, she could still feel the slow swirls and sloshing of the prutosa as though it were going to spill out.
Like a single drumbeat, a steady pulse rang from her core. It coursed from the center of her body through her arm and into a bracelet holding a clear crystal bead no bigger than a pebble. A white glimmer flashed on the ground for a moment before the leather thong holding the crystal disappeared, and the small stone was fastened in the round wooden hilt of a curved single-edged blade. Nuyani rose as the trailing sand grew closer.
It stopped at the edge of the stone before sand burst into the air. Nuyani did not hesitate as she delivered a horizontal cleave into the cloud and felt some resistance meeting the end of her blade. Clattering and clicking sounded as a heavy thud landed on the surface. The smell of rotting flesh then filled her nose, causing her to wince in disgust. Nuyani backed away, staying on the stone slab as the dust fell away. Her biggest obstacle and threat to her people was revealed. A parasite came for an eager meal. The creature had a segmented body of dark brown shells with little room for the short thorn-like legs sticking out of the sides, which meant more for burrowing than walking. Their heads had four pincers with points all meeting one another at the center of their mouth, and faded yellow eyes were sitting between each of them. Each one looked as if it were a stone fading in color. From looking at them directly, one could never tell which side was right-side-up for their bodies. All Nuyani knew was that they did not count as living.
The creature’s body was halved as yellow pus spilled from the opened end of its body. Yet the creature continued its pursuit as if never struck.
“By the great lord’s shine, die,” Nuyani hissed as she swung her nimcha and cleaved through the worm’s head.
With a final strike, the worm stopped moving and slumped against the edge of the stone slab. Nuyani breathed heavily as she tried to cover her mouth and nose from the smell. For the past ten days, she had encountered dozens of parasites in the desert. She had faced the creatures before. In the drylands, they referred to the parasites as worms for burrowing in the flesh of animals, causing them to grow almost double in size and become walking corpses, ignoring even the fatalist wounds. Those worms were merely the width and size of a man’s arm, still grotesque and larger than she had any comfort, but the worms in the desert were nearly twice the length and just as wide as a man. Their bodies did not afford them much speed but allowed them to burrow in the loose sand.
Nuyani’s core released another pulse, echoing through the area. Her senses carried on the ethereal beat, spreading out in a sphere for a dozen paces in all directions. She could not feel the presence yet but could hear the rustling of turning sand grow louder and more numerous. She watched her surroundings. More trails started toward Nuyani as though her edria was a beacon calling for the worms. As two more of the creatures sprung from the ground, Nuyani’s edria released another pulse through a raised arm and aimed at the worms. The magic erupted from her palm in a fist-sized sphere of blue light before launching forth and crashing through the worm, sending shell and pus to rain on the sands behind it. The next worm then lunged like a spear thrust for her midsection. Nuyani nimbly dodged with a sidestep, almost becoming a blur before her blade came down, cutting through the worm’s head.
She then slid her foot to the side, pulling away her tool strap before the slain worm could fall on it. Tied to the simple strap were several sacks and bags of her rations, herbs, daggers, small tools, and poisons she traveled with on most occasions. Throwing the strap over her shoulder, it fell between her breasts, staying in place as she looked to fight the next worm to approach. Reading the pressures of spirit, she anticipated the parasites before they emerged. Stepping onto the sands, Nuyani was forced to dance around the emerging creatures and slash at those she could without giving away her position. She could not afford to be scratched. She did not know if one touch would infect her or if they needed to bite her. Neither answer was appealing as she weaved through the pincers.
However, thirst remained the greater threat as she breathed heavily. Her tongue began to stick to the side of her mouth. Heat rose in her body and slowed her senses, slowed her movements. Nuyani leaned back as a worm she sensed, then saw, lashed out, almost striking her head. She stepped to the side and swung her blade in a circle, cleaving the worm’s body in half. It did not kill, but the wound would still slow the creature. Nuyani gave pause as she released another wave of edria through the area. More worms were approaching. Each one pressed on her senses in nearly every direction, all except one. Without hesitation, Nuyani took the lightest path revealed to her. She sprinted forth as clouds of dust rose from her steps, climbing taller than the woman herself.
Nuyani took off toward the south, following the distant hoodoos sitting on the horizon. Her desperate escape proved dire. More pools of prutosa awaken in her presence. Beneath the sands, countless worms stirred and surged with every step she took. Nuyani had outrun them, but they did not retreat. They did not tire. They did not rest. Each passing day magnified their threat as her supplies dwindled, leaving the priestess increasingly vulnerable. Often, her mind wandered to the name she once bore before becoming the Witch of Kelvert—the Witch of the Drylands, the tainted child marked by demons, her speed and piercing eyes standing as proof of that corruption. Now, she understood: these were not curses but gifts, powers given by their god.
Her breathing grew ragged as she made her way toward the stones. If nothing else, the compact ground would force the worms to awkwardly crawl on stone, slowing them drastically and leaving no surprises beneath her. When she reached the stone pillars, Nuyani’s eyes widened as she found another solution to her situation. The pillars had several small grooves on their sides, all cut by centuries of wind emitted from the desert center. Nuyani began to climb, going up several stories before she reached an outcrop wide enough for her to sit. She took heavy breaths and turned to lay her back against the shadowed wall. It brought some relief to the day's heat. Nuyani looked down as she saw the worms begin to collect.
“By his shine, now what?” Nuyani wondered, and she looked at the numbers swell from dozens to hundreds. The swarms' incessant clattering reached her ears, leaving her thoughts muddled.
Trying to think of a solution, Nuyani reached for her tool strap and felt one of the sacks from the outside. She searched another, feeling the familiar shape of the contents. When a rounded lump met her probing, she fumbled with the cord and untied the top. Several small boluses of dried leaves and plants were revealed. She reached inside, grabbed one of the boluses with a darker gray tint, and placed it in her mouth. After several bites, the bolus broke apart and became wet. Almost immediately, she could feel the herbs work as her mouth began to salivate as if she were anticipating her favorite meal. The moisture was not a lot, but it helped to clear the mental fog. Nuyani then tried to move her legs over the edge, hoping that losing sight of her would motivate the worms to leave. She groaned at the hopeful thought, knowing the near-mindless creatures would stay down at the base of the pillar, scurrying about until she left or fell.
She looked down at the worms, watching as the increasing waves piled onto one another, attempting to reach her. Each eager parasite merely toppled the last, preventing any true headway, though the fear of them piling up to meet her did come to mind. As Nuyani accessed her situation, she tried to come up with solutions. Though she knew she would need to get down eventually, there was still the climb up. Halfway up the pillar, she saw that the adjacent hoodoo was within reach if she jumped from one top to the other. The only fear that came to mind for her was that of the blood manes. Predators of the sky, they would easily capture her if she were not careful.
As though her thoughts had conjured one of the animals, a wide shadow then sailed over her and down the pillars. Overhead flew one of the animals. A bird’s head stuck out of a large mane of feathers with the front legs of a bird and the rear legs of a large feline. Its long brush-ended tail trailed behind. The expanse of the animal’s wings was nearly triple the length of its entire body. As its namesake, its entire body was covered in dark red feathers. The animal craned its neck to look at the worms and Nuyani, giving her heart a start. Its large brown eye fixated on her. Though she could move or defend herself with magic, the animal’s very strength and size could easily destroy her defenses if she were not careful. Still, a predator that preferred the element of surprise, the blood mane turned away and continued north. Nuyani’s heart settled, and her breathing slowed. She remembered being called a demon just as the blood manes and blade jaws were for living in the mountains close to the demon lands. Now, they were merely seen as animals but feared for their strengths and speed.
With the second problem gone, Nuyani then looked down at the worms clamoring at the bottom. Her mind raced to the first one she saw bursting out of the carcass of a charge horn. Creating a sphere of magic to sever the worm’s head, she held it over a flame she prepared for cooking. The presence of fire did nothing to bother the skittering head. To her luck, their lack of pain did not mean they were fireproof.
With the thought coming to mind, she then moved to her tools and one of the water skins. She opened the sack containing a crystal, flint stones, and strands of leather and took out the stones and leather. Nuyani then slowly pulled at the drawstring of a water skin, holding it away from her and keeping the opening facing outward. Before her arrival in the drylands, she had collected several bulbs from the death snare. An alluring vegetation in the drylands that had fruit with vibrant colors to attract prey, only for everything in it to poison the prey, killing them or paralyzing them before a serpent-like stalk would move in to bite on the victim and drag them into the center to be consumed. They grew near riversides with their perimeter stalks, all growing the strange yellow fruit, which expanded until they burst, releasing white powder thanks to the water they consumed. The other fruit growing on the stalk sides were berries with dark red cores inside clear membranes that looked like water dew. On contact, thorns would burst from the core to puncture the skin and drain a deadly poison into the victim’s body. Even the largest animals fell in minutes to the toxins.
She let the thought go. Nuyani slowly peered into her water skin. The heat had drained much of the water and moisture of the bulbs. With six fully expanded fruits able to sit in the water skin, Nuyani was surprised to see that none had burst beforehand. Two of the bulbs at the top were reduced thinned disks warped by the heat. The next two were half expanded as some of the water still inside the water skin reached them. The last two were fully expanded and ready to burst with a strong enough blow to puncture their tension. Nuyani then removed the half-dried pieces and sat them on the ledge. She then retrieved the flint stones and straps. Looking down at the floor, Nuyani merely saw a jumbled mess of worms mixing and entangling to the point that no one body could be distinguished from another. With a sharp breath, she then lay on the ledge, eyeing the worms. She raised her arm and then pitched the half-dehydrated bulb at the worms. She winced as the awkward throw did not agree with her arm. Pain shot through her shoulder. It proved fruitful, though, as the bulb struck a worm and burst outward with a white powder covering many of the worms. It contrasted with their shells, revealing which and where the powder had landed.
“By his shine…” Nuyani whispered as she moved on to her next step.
Taking up the flint stones, she began striking them over the leather strands. The insistent clicking made her heart race as she looked back at the edge. It was proof the powder did nothing to the creatures. A bleak reminder that they were not living.
Several sparks arched toward the bindings, but Nuyani gritted her teeth even tighter with each failed strike. Not too long before the twentieth strike did the pile began to smolder. She gave a wide smile as the glow of embers matched her eyes. With a few breaths to feed the flame, Nuyani stopped and sat straight. Taking in a sharp breath, she scooped the strands into both of her hands. The flame grew quickly. The burning immediately began nipping at her palms and small fingers. Releasing sharp grunts, she eagerly turned and tossed the strands down to the worms. Nearly throwing herself over, she slipped off the ledge and clung to the crevices once more. She looked down, ready to watch the creatures burn, with a gleeful smile. But the thought faded as the strands descended.
Her eyes widened, and her mouth held open as she saw the gnawing mindless parasites roll and lean away from the burning bundle. They only think to eat, Nuyani told herself.
To her luck, so many had gathered at the base of the pillar that she was bound to drop the flames on one of them. The small flame burst on contact, expanding nearly two stories high and two dozen paces outward. Nuyani raised her arm to shield herself from the rising inferno’s heat. New beads of sweat arose. She sat back on the ledge. It was a surprise to see the blaze had a great effect on the worms. Whether the powder was needed or not, each worm was lit with flames on contact like a dried brush. They fled in all directions, with many even attempting to put the flames out. Some rolled in the sand. Others burrowed with smoke rising to the surface from the bulges of their tunneling.
No. No. To the sands… No! Nuyani thought as horror covered her face, and she held her hands over her mouth. If they were this self-preserved, what could the worms do?
She let the sudden shock go and remembered her goal. She took up her tools and items in hand. She climbed to the top. Reaching the plateau, Nuyani dashed along the wide space before leaping to the adjacent pillar. Landing on the other side, Nuyani then moved to the opposite end of the hoodoo, where another cluster of pillars all stood. The taller pieces brought both shade and cover as she climbed in between them and found a wider ledge she could lie on more securely.
She peered out and saw several scattered worms still ablaze. The ground was littered with the charred remains of the worms. Smoke continued to rise from beneath the sand, all around the pillars. Nuyani glared at the remains as she fought to ignore the smell of burning rot.
Despite seeing the creatures were smarter, she still gained a victory. A fleeting thought of their easy kindling brought a small mischievous smirk only to disappear. She never learned to conjure flames, but the thought still made her feel strange. Since the start of the season, did she even learn about magic and her powers?? Knowing from visions of ancient spirits that they could do so much more brought a shiver to her spine.
With little choice, Nuyani lay down and turned her body to face the pillar side. Smoke filled her nose as the bolus was reduced to a pulp, keeping her throat from drying. She could not afford to move. Not yet, at least. Returning to the top would expose her to blood manes, and climbing down could bring the swarms back to trap her there. Worse, the call of sleep lingered. Her muscles ached. Her hands were burned in a few spots, and her eyelids felt heavy. Once the cool breeze slipping through the pillars came and brushed against her bare back, she succumbed to slumber.
Sleep this time brought a memory to Nuyani. She found herself in a familiar void of darkness with faint blues in the distance, each of concentrated edria. Each was in the form of spheres far beneath the land’s surface. She found herself in edrial form. The surface of her body was nearly transparent, but looking toward the border or turning portions revealed the countless waves of edria humming from her center and trailing over her form. She found herself plunging further into the darkness along with both her younger brother, a thin boy with a short afro she had just learned was family in the past season and only met during his first hunt initiation. He, too, was in a blue ethereal form, a fade of his body. The ripples of edria were not so easy to see without focusing on the edge of his arms. Between them, guiding the two through the darkness, was the remainder of their god’s power. A ball of magic shining bright and as wide as her torso. The three had descended into the land to bridge some of Kelvert’s power to the surface.
The same sandstorms raking across the lands were filled with prutosa. They suppressed Kelvert’s power with each passing wave. It took the three of them synchronizing their magic to move the sea of edria, which had grown still in the depths of the drylands. It was a strange quality of the forces Nuyani barely understood. Prutosa both flowed and burned, with the amount being more important for spells, while edria beat and hardened to do the same. Both were needed for mortals and life in general, but both had advantages and disadvantages. As her dream continued, she and the others made contact with the blue floor of Edria and concentrated on making the surface vibrate. As it wavered, increasingly bright portions proved they were making headway. Then, plunging into the energy, they willed to move more of it and dragged the line of power to the surface. With some of Kelvert’s power in his control, he was able to create barriers to protect the cavern Nuyani lived in during her exile.
A pulse of edria rang from the distance. Nuyani’s eyes shot open as she looked toward the south. Nothing was in sight, but she could feel the energy reaching her nonetheless. One source against another felt as if a pattern were ringing over the core, though no audible sound was there. With the memory of the lesson fresh in her mind and a safe place for her vulnerable body, Nuyani then lay on the ledge once more. The sky was tinted in red and violet as the sun set, and the winds rose to a whistle through the pillars. Even the smell of ash and rot had lessened drastically.
Thank the great lord. This should be easy, Nuyani thought as her eyes closed and she concentrated on her core.
At any given time, the core of a living being was constantly humming at a steady pace. This is both to contain one’s soul and spirit as well as protect from incoming forces that could damage or corrupt. Though the worms were the closest example of how well those could be circumvented. As she relaxed, Nuyani willed the thrum of her core to move faster until the individual waves melded together. She then tried to mirror her conscience and produce a separate sphere from her body. She had done this twice before, letting her conscience enter a second sphere. But this time, things were proving difficult. As Nuyani concentrated, she tried to maintain the sphere. Several bombarding waves of prutosa washed over the new construct. Nuyani felt as if she were physically trying to lift stones far too heavy for her. The prutosa lingering in the desert proved too thick, and Nuyani grunted as her stamina gave way. The edria returned to her body as her eyes shot open with pain radiating through her body. Nuyani grunted as her fingers were forced to curl, and her stomach clenched, forcing her to sit up. Her eyes widened and closed. She tried to fight the pain. Panic rose as she felt her body inching toward the edge out of her control.
No! Lord Kelvert, no, Nuyani thought as she tried to take some control of her core. With edria so closely linked to the physical realm, its sporadic behavior meant that both her core was about to break and that her muscles would feel every ounce of it. The waves of pain then went away as Nuyani started to regain control of her body. She breathed heavily. Trying to lay flat, her heart gave a start when she felt her leg miss the ledge and dangle over. With most of her body still on stable ground, she remained relatively safe.
After a few more breaths, Nuyani struggled to sit up. She looked out toward the south, wondering how far the waves of edria traveled. Looking at the sun, she wondered if it was worth leaving the ledge at night. She may have rested, but that did not mean she was back to full strength. Instead of wondering, Nuyani put away some of her tools and eventually went down to retrieve the others that fell off the ledge. The smell of burnt flesh returned, growing stronger as she reached the ground. When Nuyani neared the sands, she retrieved her flint stones, her ivory dagger with a fox carved between the blade and hilt, and her crystal. As Nuyani retrieved it, she thought back to when she found it. The piece was a part of Kelvert, though she never knew. She often applied some pressure just by squeezing it, and the crystal would release trailing lights like the glimmer of a river surface before it sucked in or let out anything that was of flesh in the opposite direction of the grip. She managed to kill the charge horn that went after the hunters and passed the stone over one of the beasts. Each one was at least twice the length of a man’s height and was as heavy as maybe a dozen or two. Yet despite their size, the palm-sized crystal had taken two in its confines and felt no heavier.
Nuyani then thought back to her attempt of applying magic to it. Feeding a thrum into the stone before allowed her to open a gate into the realm of edria. It was a realm of night with floating spheres of light scattered about like stars, but often, at least a third had lines of white connecting one white light to another.
Putting the crystal away, she ran toward the south, ignoring the charred remains of the worms in passing. The ground still smoked from those buried below. As Nuyani ran along the desert, she wondered what forces could project such magic. She let her mind race with different hopes and possibilities as the cool breeze from the coming night helped to soothe her strained muscles.
The further she traveled across the desert, the stronger and lingering each passing wave seemed. The odd part to Nuyani was that she noticed there was no set rhythm. No pattern to the coming waves. Each one was thick yet seemed to have no true purpose to them as they passed over and through her. She tried to understand the waves and recalled her lessons. Magic was a strange and complicated subject with so many variables determining what spell was conjured. The amount of waves, thickness of the thrum, and sequence were all factors that determined whether one person could conjure fire or move stones. Her own spells were more instinctive from what she was told. Each ability she had was far stronger thanks to the magic Kelvert imparted into her people, but they would never be considered complicated by any means.
Simple barriers and walls were just hardened, magic-fed waves of edria. The same went for the spell bolts and orbs. Even her sense of life and other sources was just the thinnest wave set alone to travel as far as she could reach, waiting for some disturbance in its rhythm. However, with it, she could increase its thickness, which would hinder other cores if it were the intent or make her more sensitive to the pressures and pulses around her. There were different ways of blocking or hiding from any searching pulse. Nuyani remembered when she saw strange river lizards for the first time that were longer than her own body and opened their mouths to wide expanses. It was a shock to her that they easily kept their presence from her even when just a few feet away.
The sun was still on the horizon as Nuyani caught sight of something gleaming in the dark. A jagged piece flickered blue along with several smaller lights of silver. Nuyani wondered what she saw but slid to a stop when she saw there were more dark pieces just on the sand surface surrounding the larger stone. Nuyani then held up her hand and conjured a magic sphere. The blue light shined on the surface of other large crystal shards. Each one was half buried in the sand but looked as though they were broken portions from the same piece. Nuyani then looked at the largest piece. A spike of transparent stone taller than herself with rough sides like a cliff’s edge and several cracks. Nuyani released a thrum and found the echo of the wave passing over each but never stirring the concentrated forms of edria.
Moving toward the larger piece, Nuyani carefully stepped around each of the shards. Some were as small as her fist, while others were slightly larger than her head. Placing a hand on the crystal, she remembered the memory Kelvert showed of his defeat. The haflaj (angel) had flown from across the land, passing the drylands and heading toward the desert. Following the pressures of spirit that echoed outward, it was Kelvert’s nature to fight the demons, the unflom. A monster they knew as the false devourer was sealed away in the desert. Yet its lingering power seeped through the cracks of its prison, berating the lands around it for countless miles. So powerful, the creature was able to send waves of prutosa and concentrated beams of spirit directly at Kelvert, sending the haflaj flying backward. His body, made of crystal, began to shatter as the streams broke through the barrier. The angel’s body splintered and broke apart mid-flight, fragments of its form scattering across the desert below, before Kelvert was forced to reside in the drylands. A tenth of his strength and size remained. From what she understood, the two opposing beings seldom allowed the other to live alone if they were aware. Opposite in their nature, yet the same. Nuyani wondered if all forms of life came from the vessels created in the realm of spirits (govtif ved prutosa). Then what made them so different? Even her body, though having more matter than either of the other forces, used both ethereal forces to remain alive. Kelvert’s own body had a soul to begin with, making her even more concerned with the opposite natures.
Nuyani took a deep breath as her fingers curled. She placed her forehead on the crystal. How would I be able to restore you? Nuyani first wondered. Like the well she helped to make reconnecting Kelvert with the drylands, there had to be a way to reassemble the pieces of Kelvert and bring the deity back. She released a sigh as it merely felt like another arduous mission she did not have an answer for. The suppressive spirit around her was already weakening her, though she went unnoticed by most creatures unless she was too close to the worms.
A ripple and sudden pressure then appeared behind Nuyani. She whirled around and raised her nimcha, ready to swing at anything coming by. A faint silver glint caught her eye. When the light was gone, so was the pressure. A flicker appeared at the corner of her eye but disappeared all the same when Nuyani turned to look. Feeling uneasy, she increased the strength of her thrum, letting the waves radiate from her in all directions. She felt the still thrums of the crystals begin to vibrate and match her own. She could feel the small traces of ripples dance along her core. Something was moving around her. One of the points of pressure grew heavier and just off to her side. Nuyani did not turn but twisted her blade into a vertical circle, cutting toward her side just where she felt the pressure rising.
A yelp rose along with a thud. Nuyani then looked to the side and saw a small man rolling on the ground. Her eyes widened as she looked at him, shielding his body with his arms. Like her, he had dark brown skin and looked to be at least in his mid-forties. He wore a brown tunic and trousers. Those were the only normal things about him. The bewildering part was his larger head in proportion to his body and noticeable with a proper look. The large black eyes that had tints of violet along the sides. His arms and legs grew nearly transparent from the elbows and knees down to the hands and feet. There were several tendrils or streams of prutosa coming from his back in the same purple hue but looked more like a flame burning behind him. The most telling thing about the man, however, was his height was no taller than her hand.
“What are you?” Nuyani asked as she straightened and lowered the nimcha.
“[Don’t swing that thing again. I am just trying to talk],” the small man said. Nuyani looked at him, puzzled, as he then lowered his hands and revealed a wide grin.
The air, or reality, seemed to ripple around him. In one moment, he was on the ground. The next, he was lifted into the air. Nuyani could feel the concentration of his spirit propelling him upward. The act reminded Nuyani of her first time moving about as a spirit. Learning to spirit walk, she learned that it required one to direct their flight by burning away prutosa. Yet, as she watched the man smile at her eerily, she did not feel the pressure lessening as he used it. Even more impressive, the smaller man seemed to hold more spirit than what she felt a regular man would.
Comparing quantity, most people had enough for a bowl of water or water skin. The spirits she met could contain as light as a few drops to fill pools of water. Some possessed creatures even had enough spirit equal to a river. Nuyani dropped the blade point to the ground as she looked at the man. She had seen many strange creatures, but not one so small.
“[You must not know what I am],” the man said as he kept his smile and cocked his head a little to the side, and started floating around her in a circle.
“I don’t know what you said. Maybe you can help me,” Nuyani said as she flicked her wrist, letting lights trail from the crystal in the hilt before the sword twisted and drained inside, leaving the small stone fixed to a leather cord on her wrist. She started to reach for her water skin when a silver flame flickered in the air beside the man. She stopped and blinked as there were now two. Same features in general, there were differences in the faces as the second man was bald compared to head of wiry black hair of the first. Another group of people, Nuyani thought, letting caution slip away as she stepped closer.
He too had a mischievous smile on his face but seemed younger than the first. Several more flickering lights came forth with half a dozen more appearing around Nuyani.
Before she could say a single word, the first man then sang in a melodious tone, “[Oh treasure. Mysterious treasure. Desert treasure].” His eyebrows climbed toward the top of his head as he emphasized the last word and started flying in a circle around Nuyani. The others then did the same as they repeated the words. Nuyani did not know what to say as she watched their trailing paths of violet. She felt something weighing on her mind. The urge to sleep grew steadily. Something unnatural. It was not easy for her to feel tired, making her wonder what the reason was. She even felt her core’s pulse begin to dull. Giving several blinks to fight the sleep, Nuyani focused and let her thrum race, pushing away the spirit pressing against her will. The song then ended as the men started to laugh instead. Nuyani looked at them for a moment, wondering what was happening.
“What is happening?” she questioned as she tried to reach for her water skin once more. “I’m looking for wa…” her words ended with a yelp as she was pinched on the side of her breast.
As Nuyani guarded, the others howled in amusement. Nuyani swung at him only to catch air. He disappeared in a silver light. With her thrum vibrating faster, she could feel the area shift as if spirits were puncturing through reality. They were teleporting to the other realms. The truth became more obvious as a second ripple of pressure appeared behind her, and the inside of her leg, too high for comfort, was pinched. Nuyani yelped and kicked in a desperate attempt to swat at the man. He escaped unharmed as well. The others began to laugh once more as they encircled her.
Her face went hot as she flicked her wrist, drawing the blade, and started swinging at the points of pressure but catching none of the vulgar fools. Several more pinches interrupted her swing, causing Nuyani to strike the crystal. A loud twang sounded as the blade nearly fell from her grip. With anger and laughter filling her head, she was ready to throw the weapon at them. Though it would do little good. Nuyani then released her thrum, creating a barrier around her that was stronger than normal. The same crystals around her then expanded and strengthened the construct. Though most of the men had fled into the other world, two were struck by the erupting barrier and collapsed within its confines.
Knocked out and at her feet, Nuyani considered stomping on both, even kicking them. Fear stopped her, however, as she felt her size could kill them both. Murder was not something her people ever atoned for. By the great lord, I will not harm you or forgive you, Nuyani thought as she walked to the other side of the crystal. Her face felt hot as she covered her chest once more and pulled the tight brim of her hood over her head. So long had she been in danger and desperate, she had forgotten herself. Squeezing into a place between the larger crystal shard and the smaller fragments, Nuyani lay on her side and went to sleep. This time, by her own choice.