Kali looked across the wide plains below.  The grasses bowed gracefully as a playful zephyr danced amongst them.  Late afternoon was always Kali’s favourite time of day.  Though the sun had not yet set, much of the plains lay in shadow.  In every direction, the arms of the impossibly high Kolpian Circle cradled the land below.  This mountain range had made Kolpia a sanctuary, where hundreds of species thrived, untroubled by civilization and progress.  Life here unfolded in much the same way it had for thousands of years and that was how the plainspeople liked it.

        To the south, a faint dust cloud rose into the air where herds of majestic staggorn hooved their way across a maze of hillocks, heading for home after a day of dining on the succulent sungrass that lay at the base of Hurucan, the great hill that Kali and his tribe called home.

        At the base of this high domed hill, not far from the wide meadow of sungrass, a river cascaded over jagged rocks as it made its way down to a velvety, blue lake in the distance.  Amidst the white foam of the rapids, Kali could just make out the thrashing movement of foot-long, female sysifins making their way upstream.  They were remarkable creatures and Kali would often sit by the banks of the stream watching them struggle their way through the rapids on their nine month journey to the great waterfall many leagues upstream.  Each fish pushed a single egg before her, determined to move the twelve inch ball upstream to the hatching grounds where its captive would be released into the world.  It was a particularly tragic journey for the mother who, exhausted by the effort of traversing the rapids, would only live long enough to see the egg hatch.  Upon emerging from its shell, the young sysifin would gorge itself on the body of its mother before commencing the wild journey back down the rapids to the lake where the females of the species would mate and begin the cycle again.  Life for the male sysifin was not quite so bleak and he often lived for over 100 years, swimming and eating in the shady shallows at the base of the stream.

        Kali pondered the life of the female sysifin – it was hard and it was brief.  He had studied the fish, intrigued by its behaviour.  The female was cursed with a gestation period that was no longer than an hour, so she had no choice but to lay the egg at the base of the stream where the males swam around, aimlessly drifting along the banks of the lake like vagrants.  He had been perplexed over the need to push the eggs upriver until he realised that the hammering of the waterfall at the source of the river played a significant part in the cycle.  The eggs were extremely thick – they needed to be to survive the battering they received on the upstream journey – and the waterfall was the only thing strong enough to weaken the shell.

        Looking down from the hill at the sysifins battling their way up through the waters that were relentlessly trying to push them back, Kali realised he actually admired the females.  In their efforts to get upstream, they gave their lives more meaning than could be found in the unencumbered existence of the fat males in the lake below who would not lift a fin to assist the females in their fight.

            Parts of the vast bowl of Kolpia looked different every time Kali gazed down upon it.  This was primarily due to the presence of the huge mockworms that lay across the land.  The mockworms often grew over 1,000 yards long and 100 yards wide.  Their prodigious size was not the only notable thing about the worms.  They were also blessed with an uncanny ability to camouflage themselves.  The mockworms could blend in with a rocky escarpment or disguise themselves as a small range of hills.  So successful was this transformation that Kali had once stood next to one of these protean invertebrates without knowing it.  It was only when he leant on what he thought to be a hard wall of rock that he realised the deception.  Upon feeling a tiny hand pressing on its chromatophore-rich skin, the startled worm shuffled off, leaving Kali standing in an empty field.  This highly-evolved skill of transmutation was a strange ability for a creature so vast to possess, as there was nothing in Kolpia that could harm the mockworm.  It was a pathologically timid creature that would surreptitiously wiggle away whenever another creature approached, and because Kolpia was filled to overflowing with native species, the mockworms were often on the move, disguised as hummocks, knolls and hills, sneaking their way across the landscape.  In the fading light of dusk Kali could make out a pair of worms a league away, shuffling slowly across the plains, pretending to be a ravine.

        The mockworms were not the only things on the move.  To the west, Kali could see a pack of tumblethorns making their way over the hills.  The tumblethorn was Kolpia’s most feared predator.  Although it resembled a woody plant, consisting of twisted branches heavily laden with thorns, the tumblethorn was actually an animal and an extremely vicious one at that.  It had no eyes, mouth or nose, but this did not stop it from cutting a bloody swath across the plains.  It did not discriminate and would mow down any creature in its path.  The tumblethorn drank the blood spilt from its prey via pores in its coarse skin.  The poor animals that weren’t impaled its hooked thorns were usually left in shredded pieces on the landscape.

High in the sky above the tumblethorns, a flock of greyback vultira circled in the darkening sky, hoping that the malevolent, rolling predators beneath them would make one more kill before night fell.

        Something small caught Kali’s eye.  In the dirt before him, a twin-headed flummox sat with a round kor-kor nut in its small, pudgy hands.  Although diminutive in size, being no larger than Kali’s foot, the flummox was as irascible and pugnacious a beast as one could find in the Myr.  Its two heads were facing each other.  Two pairs of bulbous green eyes were involved in a staring match, behaviour typical of the two-headed rodents that infested the sweeping Kolpian hills.  Suddenly, the left head tilted right back, the mouth opening impossibly wide.  As the mouth opened, the flummox lifted this head up high on its neck.  The head on the right cowered but the creature would not lift a hand in defence for fear of losing possession of the kor-kor nut.  With a ferocity that would make a marrok squirm, the flummox’s left head swooped down on the right, enveloping it entirely.  Sharp incisors sheared through the right head’s neck and in one of the world’s most obscene animal behaviours, the flummox swallowed its own head.  The violence of self-decapitation done, the flummox then spent the next few minutes yelping as the pain from its self-inflicted wound ripped through its entire body.  A few minutes more and it collapsed to the ground dead, the trauma of the wound and the accompanying loss of blood too much for the little animal to bear.  The kor-kor nut rolled away down the hill.

The sun sank below whatever horizon lay beyond the ring of mountains surrounding them and Kali closed his eyes.  It would not be long now.  

 

 

An hour passed and he was growing restless.  Although he tried to dismiss them, hopeful thoughts crept out from the corners of his mind.  These thoughts quickly retreated when he became aware of the hot breath upon his neck.  Kali turned his head as much as his bonds would allow him.  It was Chabriel.  Night had fallen.  The Ghul had returned.

 

 

Kali had been bound to a pole for three days as had every other member of his tribe.  During the day, he could lose himself in the beauties of the world surrounding him.  But at night, the horror of his captivity was brought back with brutal certainty.  His body bore countless wounds and much of his dark, brown skin was covered in dried blood.  That would all change soon, as Chabriel had returned to make new incisions and to reopen old ones.  Soon he would feel the warm caress of his own blood flowing down his body, to gather in a dark puddle at his feet once more.

        Kali’s tribe was incapable of defending itself against the cold-hearted interlopers.  The Ghul had shown nothing but cruelty since arriving in Kolpia.  The people of Hurucan Hill were a simple folk, peacefully living off the land, coexisting with all other creatures that called the plains their home.  The tribe had no weapons.  They barely had any tools.  It was no trouble for the Ghul to round up all eighty-five of them and tie them to poles they had fashioned from a copse of trees that once stood atop the hill.

        Although being almost twice the size of the Ghul, and second only to the Kheperans in terms of height, the plainspeople did not know how to fight.  They had never witnessed violence outside of what occurred naturally in the world around them.  The night the Ghul marched up Hurucan, they were met with no resistance.  The Kolpians’ display of curiosity swiftly turned to fear when Chabriel killed three tribesmen to announce her arrival.  She spent the first night barking orders and screaming at the plainspeople, choosing to ignore the fact that the Kolpian lacked the very organ needed to hear her demands and threats – they had no ears.

 

 

‘He’s not here, Spulla,’ Chabriel said to the old Ghul soldier standing to attention before her.  Spulla held his favourite marrok, the hulking albino pack leader, on a short leash.  Other marroks slithered around Spulla like devoted acolytes.  The beasts leered at the men, women and children tied to the poles around them.  Salivating jaws snapped at any Kolpian bold enough to look the marroks’ way.  A number of the marroks were lucky enough to dine on randomly chosen captives the previous night, and Spulla’s pet strained on his leash in anticipation of a similar feed.

        ‘No Major.  I had two teams searching the countryside last night and neither picked up any trace of a male scent, other than those of the savages we have captive already.’

        ‘It was just a vain hope.  For all we know, Remiel Grayson is hiding on the other side of the world.  What of the Morgai female, the one whose scent was picked up back in Grisandole?  Any sign of her?’

        Sergeant Spulla raised a bony hand to his mouth and picked at his teeth nervously.  He wanted to give his commanding officer some good news, especially after their failure at Grisandole.  He was old, even for Ghul, and didn’t want to spend the rest of his days in the Nursery.  ‘We have… ah… lost the scent, Major.’

        Suddenly Chabriel’s left arm shot out and grabbed Spulla by the throat just as her right arm pulled a needleback spike from its scabbard at her side.  ‘Sergeant, you are well aware that I am prepared to use this should you fail me?  Or even worse, perhaps you would like to join Droola in the Nursery back home?’

Chabriel could hear the rumbling growl that broke from the albino at Spulla’s side when she grabbed him, but she was not concerned.  She could finish off the white mongrel long before he had a chance to tear the meat from her bones.  She glared down at the marrok and his growling stopped immediately.

        Chabriel brought Spulla closer, so that his bloodshot eyes and fetid breath were only inches away from her own.  Under her vice-like grip, she could feel the sergeant gulp as she lifted a hairless eyebrow to indicate she was still awaiting an answer.

        ‘No Major,’ he gasped.  ‘There’s no need for such drastic measures – I won’t fail you.’

        Chabriel released him.  She casually ran her thin fingers through her long strands of hair.  ‘Then what seems to be the problem Sergeant?  Those beasts have smelled their way over…’ – she paused, searching for the word Caliban had taught her – ‘…mountains.  How can it be they have lost the scent here on the plains?’

        Spulla took a step back, making sure he was out of Chabriel’s reach.  ‘She’s around somewhere, but she’s elusive.  The scent, it keeps changing, Major.’

        ‘What do you mean?’

        ‘The marroks keep picking up a new scent, replacing the old one.  I can’t make sense of it.’

        Chabriel sneered.  ‘That is why you are still a sergeant Spulla.  You just don’t have the brains for anything more important.  She’s a shape-shifter.  She probably knows she’s being tracked.’

        ‘Well, it’s confusing the marroks.’

        ‘Then I’ll just have to make sure she comes to us.  I’ll make sure I get her attention.’

        Spulla’s red-rimmed eyes widened as he realised why Chabriel had made captives of the plainspeople, why she had only executed a few of them so far.  She was trying to draw the Morgai woman out of hiding.

        Chabriel sighed dramatically.  ‘It looks like we’ll just have to spend more time with the savages.  It’s going to be a long, bloody night of torture tonight Spulla.’

        The sergeant beamed.  ‘That’s terrific news Major.  Terrific news.’

 

 

Captain Baggut wiped Kali’s blood from his eyes.  The captain had piled the bodies of five slain plainspeople before Kali, just so he could reach the tall Kolpian’s face.  Standing on the mound of corpses, Baggut stared malevolently into the eyes of his captive.  All the other plainspeople had screamed when they had gone under Baggut’s knife.  This one had endured far more than they had but not let so much as a whimper escape his broad lips.

        Chabriel watched the exchange, curious to see where it would end.  Baggut was the stupidest officer she had known but was also one of the most stubborn.  The Kolpian on the other hand showed no sign of submitting.  He just stood quietly and stared back at his tormentor.

        ‘Cut him again,’ encouraged Spulla who sat on the ground stroking the albino marrok as he fed him chunks of flesh taken from one of the plainspeople Baggut had already slain.  

        Baggut slowly slid his knife down Kali’s cheek, pushing hard as he did so.  The flesh peeled back like over-ripe fruit, exposing the Kolpian’s cheekbone under gouts of blood.

        Chabriel admired the man’s stoicism.  Then, out of the corner of her eyes, she saw one of the other plainspeople turn her head away from the scene.  Chabriel walked over to the female and pulled her head around.  Two watery paths ran in parallel lines from the female’s eyes to the corners of her wide mouth.  ‘What is this stuff?’ Chabriel asked as she placed a finger on the remnants of tears that had fallen from the captive’s eyes.

        The woman pulled her face away from the Ghul commander and stared out across the starlit plains.  Chabriel looked from the woman to the man Baggut was torturing.  There was some connection between the two.  The water flowing from the female’s eyes signified some sort of emotional attachment to the stubborn savage under Baggut’s knife.  

        ‘Captain Baggut!’ Chabriel called out to her subordinate who was up to his elbows in blood.  ‘That one is strong.’  Her right hand fell to the hilt of a long bone knife that was tucked into a sheath attached to her thigh.  Drawing the knife and raising it high into the air, she continued: ‘I think if we are to draw the Morgai witch closer, we need to concentrate our efforts upon the weaker ones.’

        Suddenly her tone changed to one of absolute contempt.  ‘These Kolpians are an abomination.  No ears.  No voice.  No… head.’  In an elegant flourish, Chabriel swung her long blade through the air.  A spray of blood shot out into the night as her knife met with flesh and bone.  A heart-wrenched scream broke from Kali’s lungs as the head of his wife fell to the ground.

        The cruel Captain Baggut was delighted to finally hear a sound emerge from the mouth of his captive.  Inspired by Chabriel’s cruel slaughter of the Kolpian female, Baggut turned to face Kali with a cold smile.  The grin vanished from his face immediately, for once the captain had come close enough, Kali leant forward and sank his teeth into the vile creature’s ear.  Yanking his head around sharply, Kali ripped off the ear and spat it out into the night.  Baggut howled with rage as he ran off into the darkness, searching for his discarded ear.

        Chabriel came forward, carefully stepping over her victim’s decapitated head.  She sneered at Kali, scolding him for his small act of rebellion.  ‘Kolpian, not a very wise thing to do.  Now you’ll pay the price of your insubordination,’ she said calmly.  She strolled over to another Kolpian who strained against his bonds as the bone knife was raised to his throat.  ‘A most unfortunate turn of events,’ she sighed, the insincerity of her words apparent even to Kali – whilst he could not hear her, he could guess what she purposed to do.  ‘Watch as your primitive tribe is removed from the Overworld.  One.  By.  One.’

        Another head fell.  Again Kali screamed.  

        Chabriel moved across to the next captive, a small boy who strained so hard against his bonds, it looked as if he would tear his own arms from their sockets.  His struggles were reflected by the terror in Kali’s eyes.  ‘Ah, I see this one is also special to you – perhaps, your son…’

        The anguish in Kali’s face confirmed Chabriel’ suspicions.  The knife drew back.  

 

 

‘Enough.’  

        The voice broke across the hill like sunlight.  It was quiet yet resolute and all other sounds ceased on the plain.  Suddenly, an inferno broke out across the crown of the hill.  Searing white fire erupted out of the very earth.  The Ghul closest to blaze fled from it, but Chabriel remained where she was, her eyes focused upon the shape of a woman making her way towards them from the far side of the fire.  The marroks took flight, even the albino, slithering away into the darkness, abandoning their subterrestrial masters.

The figure moved slowly, like an old woman, bent double as she came closer and closer to the blaze.  But rather than walking around the conflagration, the figure kept her course and hobbled through it.  She exhibited no signs of pain or distress.  In fact, as she walked, her body became more erect and her gait became sturdier and faster.  As the woman exited the flames, tongues of fire danced tenderly upon her skin.

        ‘What is this?’ Chabriel snarled.  

        The figure stood defiantly before the remaining Ghul.  She was beautiful.  Her raven hair wove itself into the light evening breeze.  Her skin was white and pure, and her dark eyes sparkled with a potency that put dread into the small hearts of the Ghul.  ‘My name is Lilith Cortese.  I am Morgai.’

        ‘At long last, Lilith,’ Chabriel sneered, drawing deep from her well of hatred to quell the unexpected, distasteful sense of fear she felt in the woman’s presence.  ‘I am Chabriel and I have been looking for you.’

        ‘I know,’ Lilith replied.  ‘I know what you are.  I know what you seek.’  

        Voices rang in Kali’s head.  Incredibly, he could hear words.  It was strange hearing them – they were like bubbles in his brain – but he was strangely comforted by their presence.  The Kolpians had names for things but these were private – unspoken and unheard.  They had no way of knowing the names other members of the tribe ascribed to things.  Although the concept of individual words with shared meaning was unknown to the Kolpians, Kali found he understood the exchange unfolding before him.  He could hear the harsh speech of the one called Chabriel and this was contrasted by the soft delivery of Lilith Cortese.  She spoke with such assuredness, such gravity, that any concerns he held for his son’s welfare quickly dissipated into the cool, night air.

        Chabriel planted her feet wide apart and waved the point of her knife at Lilith.  ‘Then you also know what we are capable of should you not submit to our will.’  

        The Morgai woman laughed.  It was a light, frivolous laugh that quickly ended.  ‘You are but bile secreted from the gullet of the earth.  What you have done and what you will do is a text I have already read.’   She stepped forward, her gaze fixed firmly on Chabriel.  ‘I have a message for your master.  You will tell him to cease his attacks upon the Myr.  Inform him that Remiel Grayson died many years ago.  Caliban’s search for his brother is a waste of his time.’

        Chabriel was not accustomed to being spoken to in such a way.  Her pale eyes flared with indignation.  ‘Do not prescribe me my duties, witch,’ she sneered.  ‘I am no mere messenger.’

        ‘And I am no mere witch.’  

        The small blaze through which the woman had walked erupted into a massive firestorm.  The flames blew away all shadows and the Ghul were left naked to the light.  Many fell to their knees covering their heads, but the fire would show them no mercy.  The blaze took on a life of its own and reached out to embrace all the invaders.  Incredibly, the plainspeople who had survived the Ghul’s torture were left unscathed by the fire, but the Ghul were burnt to ashes.  Only Chabriel escaped the fiery onslaught and that was only because it was Lilith’s will.

        Kali watched the beautiful woman walk gracefully across the bloody ground.  She waved her hands and all the surviving Kolpians felt their bonds go slack.  With a mere gesture, Lilith had released them.  

        Exhausted, Kali dropped to his knees.  On the edge of his sight he could see the face of his wife staring blankly at him.  Kali scrambled over to his son and clasped him passionately to his chest.  When he lifted his head, he was stunned by the scene before him.

        Chabriel was hanging suspended at the end of a rope as if she were hanging from a gibbet.  Her legs kicked at the air frantically while her thin, wiry hands clutched at the noose around her neck.  Strangely, the other end of the taut rope was not fixed to anything.  It just hovered in mid-air, no doubt held there by the will of the woman who had saved what was left of the plainspeople.

        ‘You live because I require you to pass on the message I have given you,’ Lilith said slowly as if she were speaking to a child.  Her tone cut into Chabriel deeper than any weapon could.

        ‘Woman, you have saved these few,’ Chabriel screamed defiantly, ‘but others will pay for your intervention when we unleash Kleesto upon this forsaken land.’

        Suddenly the noose around Chabriel’s neck loosened and she fell unceremoniously to the ground.  Lilith bent down, grabbed Chabriel roughly by the hair and yanked her head around so that they were facing one another.  It was a savage action and at odds with the grace and poise the Morgai had displayed to that point.  ‘I have not forsaken it,’ she growled, her voice like a rasp over Chabriel’s ears.

        She picked up the Ghul commander and shoved her fiercely away from her.  

        ‘Now, leave!’

        Chabriel swivelled her head around to register her contempt and then she was gone.

 

 

Lilith knelt down before Kali.  Her face was young, but behind her eyes Kali could sense a deep and profound history.  In his head, he heard a voice, as youthful and as ancient as her eyes.  ‘Your child is safe, for now.’

        Kali placed his large hands to his temples.  He looked inquisitively at Lilith, ‘How is it I can hear you?  Understand you?’

        ‘I have certain talents.’

        ‘You can hear my thoughts inside your head?’  He had not expected Lilith to hear his question, let alone answer it.

        ‘Yes.  I’m afraid I need words to communicate.’

        ‘Words.  They are a strange concept.  My mind feels like a storm has broken upon it.  So much chaos.  We have names but they are private, unknown by others.  This sharing of words – it is confronting.  I am not accustomed to communicating with such precision, with such complexity.  Words are... disturbing.’

        ‘I’ve never considered it before, but I can appreciate your reservations.  Words are often the means by which we hide our heart’s secrets.  They can be the tools of mendacity.  The plainspeople have lived for thousands of years without them.  It is my weakness that I require them to speak with you.’  She looked around.  ‘I am sorry for your loss.  This is a terrible tragedy.  I wish I could do more to redress the damage that has been done here.’

        Kali firmly held his child, burying the boy’s face in his chest lest he see the decapitated head of his mother. ‘Why did they do this?’

        Many emotions welled up inside Lilith.  She could feel decades-old pangs of doubt resurface.  Thirty years prior she had foretold of the very world they now witnessed, and the foretelling did nothing to avert the horrors predicted.  She had long wrestled with the issue of whether she should have indulged Remiel Grayson in his request to peer into the whirlpool of time.  She sought solace in the fact that she did warn him about the consequences of acting upon what he saw.

        ‘Remiel, that is not something I recommend...  For you to hear all I see is dangerous.’

        It seemed small consolation.  She had not protested enough.

        She thought about her talent.  Her visions of the Ghul’s coming to Grisandole had given her time to escape, but she had no such warning of their entry into Kolpia.  The future was growing increasingly enigmatic.  She felt old.  Soon there would come a day when she knew as much about tomorrow as anyone else.  Deep down, Lilith hoped she would pass away before that day came.

        ‘I believe they were looking for me.  This,’ she said looking around at the brutal carnage the Ghul had wrought upon Hurucan Hill, ‘was my fault.’

        ‘No.’ 

It was expressed with such absolute certainty, Lilith thought the Kolpian may have misunderstood her.

‘Had I not come to Kolpia, your tribe may have been left alone.’

        Kali looked up at her.  She looked tired.  ‘Had we a need for language, we would still have no use for the word maybe.  On the plains of Kolpia things either are or they are not.  There is no such thing as maybe.  We have no use for doubt. Your intercession saved the life of my son.’

        ‘But you have lost so much.’

        ‘Yes, and you have no words that can convey our sense of loss.  But you were not the aggressor in this conflict.  I will hold you no more responsible for this slaughter than I would hold the moons above.’

        A breeze blew Lilith’s dark hair across her face.  She lifted a small, delicate hand to wipe the long strands away to reveal a modest, gentle smile.  ‘For one inexperienced in the use of words, you express yourself with great sensitivity.’

        Kali smiled in return, his broad mouth curling up above his jaw.  ‘One does not need words to be sensitive.’  

        ‘No, I suppose not.  I hope you do not get too attached to this gift of language.  It will not stay with you forever.’

        Kali nodded.  ‘Magicka fed a tempa.’

        She smiled to hear his unexpected use of the old tongue.  ‘Yes.  Magick fades in time.’

        A small number of Kolpians had gathered around them, taking a reverent interest in the woman who had saved them from torture and death.  Others tended to the injured, the dying and the dead.  It was eerily quiet.  Such bloodshed would usually be followed by demonstrative displays of grief, but this was not the Kolpians’ way.  With sad, slow movements, they gathered the bodies together, sombrely placing them in lines on the bloodstained grass.

        Lilith’s head cocked to one side.  Her ears registered something on the very edge of hearing but her mind could not identify what it was.  She closed her eyes and listened hard.  Once she cleared her mind of all other distractions, she became aware of a droning sound.  The noise was a thin, bombilating sound, much like that made by buzzbeetles before the honeyjuice harvest, only deeper in pitch.  The humming increased in volume. 

The Kolpians, deaf to all sound, were oblivious to any threat.

        ‘Something’s coming!’ she broadcast to everyone on the hill. ‘Get down!’

        With frightening swiftness the sound rose to a crescendo and Kleesto swung into view.  Lilith’s mouth dropped when she saw the massive avian monster for the first time.  In her visions, she had seen a number of behemoths from Caliban’s subterranean menagerie, but Kleesto was not one of them.  Its wings of slate grey were spread wide, vibrating so rapidly they seemed a blur.  It hovered for a second above Lilith, revealing six vicious claws that opened and shut in a frenzy, anticipating the ripping of flesh and the breaking of bones.  The beast’s wedge-shaped head tilted back as it opened its beak to reveal three sets of short, sharp teeth and a short stub of a tongue that appeared to Lilith as if it had been severed.

        ‘You must be Kleesto,’ she said dryly as she prepared for the inevitable attack.

        Kleesto’s reply was a volley of pure sound.  The sonic assault hit Lilith hard.  She put up a hand to dispel it but, weakened from her attack upon the Ghul, she was not able to conjure a defence in time.  Her dark hair and clothes streamed behind her as if she was buffeted by a savage wind.

        At the moment Kleesto’s barrage hit Lilith, Kali saw something he could not explain.  For the briefest moment in time, he thought he saw another figure standing where she stood – a frail, old woman, cowering under the Kleesto’s dreadful sonic scream.  In an instant, the old woman was gone and in her place was Lilith’s lithe, youthful form.  Her face indicated the attack had hurt her, for her forehead was creased and her teeth were clenched.  She had fallen to one knee, clearly exhausted.

        Incredibly, though Kali was near her, he had not been harmed by Kleesto’s attack.  None of the Kolpians were.  They had felt it but it had not hurt them the same way it had hurt Lilith.  Somehow, their permanent state of deafness made them less susceptible to Kleesto’s sonic screams.  Kali picked himself off the ground, indicating to his son to stay where he was.

        Lilith lifted her head as Kleesto wheeled around in the sky to launch a second attack.  Not knowing whether she could survive a second battering, Lilith quickly launched an offensive.  A massive ball of flame burst into life before her.  Lilith raised her hands and the burning orb rose above the earth.  With a sharp flick of her arms, she thrust the fireball at the beast bearing down upon her.  The sky above sizzled as the searing ball cauterized the air and slammed into Kleesto before it could let fly with another attack.

        For a moment, it looked as if Lilith’s pyrokinetic response had stopped Kleesto.  It had pulled out of its dive to brace itself against the fireball.  The flaming missile enveloped the beast, but did little more than annoy it.   Kleesto shook its wings rapidly and the fireball dissolved into the air.

        ‘So, fire doesn’t bother you – that’s okay.  We’ll try something else.’

        Kleesto screamed again.  The wave of sound shot through the air.  Lilith had no time to prepare herself.  All she could do in the split-second before the sonic scream hit was close her eyes and hope it wouldn’t be the end of her.

        She was hit firmly, but from the side.  Seeing the monster about to strike, Kali had thrown himself at Lilith and slammed into her side, thrusting her from the focus of Kleesto’s attack.  The sonic scream broke ineffectually across the Kolpian’s back.

         Lilith sat in a heap and looked up at the Kali.  ‘You saved me,’ she whispered gently in his mind.  ‘Thank-you.’

        Kali nodded graciously, then turned his head towards an enraged Kleesto.  It extended its claws, a reminder to all below that it had other means to inflict pain upon its prey.

        ‘Do you have any other tricks besides fire?’

        Kali’s comment reverberated in Lilith’s mind.  She raised her fine eyebrows in surprise and smiled.  ‘You’ve had the gift of language for a few minutes, and already you’re indulging in sarcasm?’ she responded playfully.  ‘Of course I have other tricks.  Watch this!’

        Lilith’s hands extended, the tips of her fingers aimed directly at Kleesto.  The air around grew cold and Kali noticed Lilith’s hands had rapidly turned a shade of blue.  Beads of frost gathered across her long fingernails.

The effect of this magick upon Kleesto was a lot more dramatic.  Its wings slowed down considerably as a  layer of ice formed on each scale.  Its claws clenched up into tight balls as all heat dropped from the air surrounding it.  Unable to stay airborne, the beast fell to the ground, where it writhed in agony as its veins began freezing.  It unleashed a couple of anguished screams, but these were unfocussed and were no threat to Lilith.

        ‘It’s working,’ Kali said, his voice a comforting presence in her head.

        He was right.  Kleesto’s body buckled and shook as its internal organs shut down, reduced to frozen blocks of tissue in Lilith’s frigid grasp.  It released a tortured gurgle and then stopped moving, surrendering itself to the fate Lilith had dispensed. 

But then something happened that surprised all who witnessed Lilith’s attack upon the savage creature that had tried to kill her moments before – she stopped.

        Lilith sat down and stared into the night sky, her breast rising and falling as she struggled to get her breath back.  Her hands were no longer blue; they were old and wrinkled.  Kali could also see traces of similar wrinkles around her eyes and mouth.  Her face still retained its youthful qualities – the proud, round cheeks; the full, ruby lips; the long, thick eyelashes – but these looked like a mask, hiding a countenance that was much, much older.

He looked over at Kleesto.  The creature was not dead.  Its claws twitched as life slowly flowed back into them – the beast’s veins no longer frozen.  It was vulnerable but would not remain so for long.

        Kali turned back to Lilith to find that any wrinkles he thought he had seen had altogether disappeared.  Her smooth, white brow was moist with sweat as were the palms of her small, elegant hands.  Lilith’s dark eyes continued to gaze up at the stars.  ‘Mercy?’ Kali asked as he pointed over at Kleesto.

        Lilith smiled at the Kolpian’s innocence.  ‘No,’ she responded gently.  ‘Exhaustion.’

        It was true.  She had nothing more to give.  Although she was only a second short of killing Kleesto, Lilith could not summon another ounce of magick to put an end to the loathsome beast’s life.  She dropped her eyes from the skies above to see Kleesto roll onto its legs and skulk off into the darkness, unable to fly, unable to fight, but alive.  She knew that it was not the last she had seen of it.

 

 

‘What is to be done?’

        It was almost morning.  The skies to the east had transmuted into a beautiful, thick lazuline, a colour only seen by people who rose before the sun.  Almost all of the tribe had retired to their grassy beds, their bodies depleted of all energy by three nights of brutal torture at the hands of the Ghul.  Only Kali remained awake, sitting by a fire tenderly stroking the head of his son who had fallen asleep in his lap.

        On the other side of the fire sat Lilith Cortese, hugging her knees, deep in thought.  She was startled by Kali’s question popping into his head, as he had not moved or spoken for almost an hour.  ‘I do not believe the Ghul will be back here any time soon,’ she replied.  ‘They have nothing to gain from returning to Kolpia.’ 

        Lilith took her arms from around her knees and placed them behind her back.  She looked across the fire at Kali’s broad face.  He was a good man.  He could be trusted.  ‘You must leave immediately, travel south to the city of Cessair.  An assembly of all the Myr’s nations will be convened in Cessair to respond to the emergence of the Ghul.  You must inform them of what has taken place here.  Only you can do this.’

        Lilith awaited a reply in her head but he had none to give.  The magnitude of what she had suggested was so great that he was at a loss for words.  No Kolpian had ever gone beyond the boundaries of the mountains and very few Myrrans had made their way into Kolpia.  Although Kali was aware of places and peoples beyond his land’s borders, he had never considered leaving the plains.  It was as fantastical an idea as could be imagined.

        Lilith pulled herself around the fire so that she sat beside him.  She reached deep into the folds of her gossamer purple and gold robes and produced a scroll, bound with a richly-embroidered strip of cloth.  She untied the cloth and unrolled a parchment before Kali.  It was made of bleached leather and was completely blank.  

        ‘Head south over the plains until you reach the feet of the southern range.’  As she spoke lines and pictures appeared on the map as if an invisible quill were drawing on it.  The calligraphy upon the map was ornate and the drawings and markings that appeared were all presented in incredible detail.  This was no crudely drawn sketch.  ‘Head south-east through the mountains.  Follow this map and you will find a path that none but the Morgai know of.’  

        Kali bent close to the map and saw a delicate line unravel itself across the intricately drawn representation of the mountains to the south.  

        ‘On the other side of the range, you will see a magnificent, crimson lake larger.’  The map drew the lake and coloured it crimson.  The ink seemed to shimmer as if the lake were lit by early morning sun.  ‘On the far side of the lake lies a broad peninsula.  Cessair Tower stands proudly at the tip of this peninsula.  You will see it as soon as you cross the mountains, long before you step down into the land of Scoriath.’ 

The map displayed a grand spire, unlike anything Kali had ever seen.  He looked closely at the picture and thought he could see twin stairways crisscrossing the tower, all the way to its lofty top.

        Lilith rolled up the map, bound it with the strip of cloth and held it out it to him.  He was unsure of what to do and searched her face for some direction, but she just stared passively back at him, the rolled map sitting in her hand. 

Kali reached out and tentatively took the map into his wide hand.  Finally, he asked, ‘This assembly you speak of – to deal with the Ghul – how can you be sure it will take place?’

        ‘I am sensitive to the patterns and shapes of days to come.  In my mind’s eye I see the Myr’s moons wax and wane three times before this council convenes.  It is a long, hard journey on foot.  You do not have a moment to waste.’

        ‘You can read the future?’

        ‘Patches of what is to come are revealed to me.  I do not know all that is to come, nor do I know whether what I see will always come to pass.’

        Kali cast an eye down at his son, still fast asleep in his lap.  ‘If I go, will I see him again?’

        ‘I cannot see.  I am exhausted.  My battle with Kleesto has left me empty.  It will be days before I could summon up enough energy to peer into the stream of time.’

        Kali gently touched the boy’s face, affectionately running a broad finger down the bridge of his nose.  His son was so deep in sleep, he was snoring.  It was an endearing sound that Kali, deaf as he was, had never heard before.  

        ‘He cannot come with you,’ Lilith said pre-empting Kali’s next question.  ‘It is too long a journey for a young boy.’

        ‘If I stay, I can protect him.’

        ‘If you stayed, what could you do to safeguard your tribe?  Whilst I do not believe the Ghul will return any time soon, there will come a day when desolation and decay will cover up all the lands of the Myr should this new threat go unchecked, and even the beautiful, cloistered plains of Kolpia will not be so far away as to escape this fate.’  Her voice was so passionate in his head, he could not doubt that she spoke anything but the truth.

        Kali nodded.  ‘I will go.’  He climbed up from his seated position, carefully placing his son’s head down on the soft grass.  He looked southwards.  ‘Will I be able to communicate with the other Myrrans as I speak to you now?’

        She stood.  ‘No.  This mindspeech is a talent known only to my race, the Morgai.  To my knowledge there is only one other Morgai still alive and I do not know where he is.  You must rely on other means to tell the tale of what transpired here.  You will find a way.’

        ‘The other Morgai.  He is the one the Ghul seek?’

        ‘Yes.’

        ‘You said he was dead.’

        ‘Yes.’

        ‘You lied.’

        She gave a wan smile.  ‘As I mentioned earlier, words are the means by which we hide our heart’s secrets.’  

Kali returned the smile.  ‘Yes.  I am beginning to see that.’

        Lilith reached into her robes and produced another scroll.  She knelt down on the grass, unrolled the parchment and laid it out before Kali.  ‘Place your hand upon it.’

        Kali did so.  His hand was so large that it covered the parchment in its entirety.  He felt a tingling sensation under his palm and broad fingers.  He pulled his hand from the parchment to find ornately written text wandering across the leathery page.  

        ‘These words... I can read them!  It’s an account of…’  He paused as the words brought back the dreadful horrors of the Ghul attack on Hurucan Hill.  The image of his wife being beheaded flared up in his mind and he pushed the parchment away.

        ‘As you can see,’ Lilith said softly, ‘words can also reveal truths.  It is vital that the world is made aware of this tragedy.  Present this to the Assembly.  It will be read to others there.’

        ‘Where will you go?’

         ‘I will endeavour to track down this beast they call Kleesto.  Hopefully, I will find it before it attacks others.’

Kali took the second scroll and bowed before her.  He leant down and kissed his son on the forehead.  The word good-bye formed in Kali’s mind.  It was a lonely word.  He didn’t like it.  

 

 

By the time the sun broke over the tops of the peaks of the eastern mountains, Kali was already crossing the river at the base of Hurucan Hill.  He stopped briefly to watch the sysifins making their way upstream and couldn’t help but feel a certain kinship with the struggling fish.