Chaos undone, p.31
Chaos Undone, page 31
And then Dira remembered her quest.
With care, Dira stood atop the rocky wall, finding her bearings as she took her first step. Sir Kitty was far away now. “Come back!”
“Dira?!”
Dira froze, swaying awkwardly atop the high wall.
Sora raced to the base of the wall. Only then did Dira realize she was nearly adjacent to the manor’s roof. “What are you doing?!”
“There was a cat.”
“Just... stay right there. Sit down and don’t move!”
Disappointment filled Dira as she obeyed, heartbroken as she watched Sir Kitty disappear down the other side of the wall.
Soon, Sora heaved herself up beside her, though looked far less winded than Dira felt. “You know you could fall and break your neck, right?”
“So could you.”
“But I’m an adult.” Sora pointed behind her. “Get on my back, kid. I’ll carry us down—somehow.”
But Dira could not move, suspended by sorrow. “Why didn’t he want to be my friend?”
“Because cats don’t tend to like people if they weren’t raised around them, and I’ll bet that was one of the village strays who wandered a bit too far away. Don’t take it personally.”
Dira forced herself to nod.
When she didn’t move, Sora’s hand appeared around her shoulders, pulling her close. “Talk to me.”
The feelings struggled to emerge. Oh, what to name this terrible thing? “I just... I feel... lonely.”
To her surprise, Sora nodded. “I see that. If you let me help you down, I promise to talk to your mother, all right?”
Something within Dira came alight. “You mean it?”
“Of course I do.”
Oh, but what would that bring? Companions? Friends? A trip down the road? Dira’s smile spread wide as she clung to Sora’s back.
Sora, however, groaned as she slid to the wall’s side. “You’re lucky you’re tiny.”
And that evening, after Dira bathed and changed for bed, there came a knock at her door. “Come in!”
Mother peered inside, her coy smile utterly alien. “Sorry I’m a little late, Dira Darling. But I had a few friends stop me on my way.”
The door swung all the way open, revealing a basket in Mother’s arms, and inside—
Dira gasped and ran forward, her joy radiant to see two little kittens peering out. Her squeal came unbidden, and she laughed when they meowed right back. “Are they for me?!”
“Of course. Two new friends for my Dira.”
Yet despite the love bubbling from her heart, despite the precious little kittens to love... Dira’s heart sank.
She sat when Mother beckoned, forcing a smile when the first kitten plopped into her lap—a calico, which meant it was a lovely little girl, with eyes as green as emeralds—and despite the affection filling her, Dira sniffed back tears.
Mother held the other—a scruffy grey kitten with golden eyes—to her own chest, and Dira hated to see her worry, hated to see her disappointed. The kitten struggled, but Mother had eyes only for her. “Do you not like them?”
“I love them,” Dira replied, and it was the purest truth. The kitten seemed confused as she meowed up at Dira, but when she brought a hand down to pet her, she rubbed her head against her hand. “I just... I thought, when Sora said she’d talk to you, that I would get an elven friend.”
Mother set the kitten down next to its companion in Dira’s lap, the duo immediately leaping upon each other. “Darling...” Mother did not breathe, and so her sighs were rare—and poignant. “I see. You need a friend your age.”
“I just get a little lonely sometimes.”
When Mother scooted closer, she scooped up a kitten attempting to climb Dira’s thigh. “Mind their claws. You will likely get scratched here and there as they learn. They can’t control themselves yet.”
“Mother—”
“I know. I am thinking.” Mother brought the kitten to her neck, then frowned as she stared it in the eye.
“Is it all right?”
“He is perfectly fine,” Mother muttered, her voice far away. “There is a particular... well, godly friend of mine who owes me a great many favors. I wonder...” Mother glanced from the kitten to Dira, her smile twisting to something frightful. “Be patient with me, Dira love. I will find you a friend.”
Dira took a breath to speak her excitement—only to gasp and giggle when her calico kitten leapt onto her nightgown. She didn’t even mind the stinging pinpricks as she climbed. She only laughed and kissed her little head when the kitten made it to her shoulder.
“In the meantime, I am well aware you won’t be going to bed on time,” Mother said, her teasing apparent as she set the other kitten onto Dira’s head, where it gripped her slowly forming locs. “Would you like to help me set up a sleeping area for them?”
Dira wrangled the two kittens back into her arms, heart warmed anew. “Yes, please.”
* * *
Current era...
The exhilaration of flying never wavered. Sora gazed upon the world from new heights, tucked safely in Uluron’s grasp.
“How much longer?!” she cried into the open air, her stomach lurching when those massive claws brought her up to face the great dragon.
Patience, Sora. Just a few hours more.
But Sora could not be patient, the incessant stirring within her fueled by both anxiety and a lack of Spore. Dira was gone. Dira was a monster. Dira had apparently orchestrated the death of Sol Kareena. Dira...
“Name the way.”
“Kill her.”
But kill who? Dira herself? Or had that been a lie to protect her true motive?
“One of us is lying.”
Had Dira spoken any truths at all?
But Uluron had insight. My mother told me she did not wish to be separated again, and should we be lost, to meet in Tierzuroth.
Back to the elves.
Sora settled into a fetal position, deeming it the safest way to doze. Her hand skimmed past her locket, wishing she had not lost her mirror. Flowridia was pregnant, and Sora wished so badly to be at her side and celebrate this strange but blessed news. However, the child was unborn, and the ghost of Chaos was tangible and real. Sora’s first duty remained to what was here now, but her mind would not settle.
Instead, Sora managed to smile at her parents’ images in her locket, her mother’s features painfully reminiscent of Tazel, of Mereen, even Sarai who she had barely met. But also her own self, and Sora felt pride to carry that bloodline, even if she had shirked the name.
And then her father, whose beaming smile her sister embodied. Not Dira, no. Dira was Odessa in ways that Sora still reeled to consider, for Odessa was something Sora had yet to put to rest. Dira’s smile held mischief, her laughter carried malevolence, but Dira herself was...
... Sora wished she knew. Dira was kind and full of life, but Dira had orchestrated the death of a goddess Sora loved. But she could not deny the love in Dira’s gaze in her lucid moments, the childish joy directed at Sora. So what was this monster that had taken hold of her? Dira was sometimes Dira, but who was Chaos?
The light waned when Uluron descended into the Gozrith Jungle, the capital city awaiting. Yet as Uluron gracefully broke through the canopy of trees, already Sora felt something amiss in the scenery.
Be alert. Something is different.
Uluron touched the ground. Her words might’ve been laughable, were it a laughing matter.
For there was nothing. There was no Tierzuroth.
Evidence of rubble, yes. Ancient trees torn apart, shredded like paper. The once-massive wall was simply flat terrain, as though rolled over by a gargantuan carriage. No statues, no homes, no hall for the executor—nothing.
Sora gripped tight to the stability of Uluron’s bone finger, dazed at the cleanliness of it. For though memories of the Theocracy’s downfall haunted her on sleepless nights, the screams, the blood, the bodies—there was none of that here. “Set me down.”
Uluron obeyed, and Sora stumbled into the gargantuan circle of rubble, verifying her observation. Nothing dead was here.
No birds sang, but Uluron was an imposing enough presence to account for that. No lingering aura of dread and death, no unholy curse upon this land. The destruction held peace.
“What could have done this?” Sora’s voice echoed across the amphitheater of trees, the sole living voice amid the debris.
My Father has the power, but it is not in his character. Nor would he have a motive.
Sora’s boots scuffed against wreckage, mostly dirt and wood. No food, no supplies, no children’s toys—too organized to be a traditional genocide. A new fear froze her, though it did not quite fit the puzzle. “Forgive me, but could it have been Chaos? She turned into... something.”
I cannot fathom my Mother’s motive either. Not in any form.
Sora stepped over shattered glass, seeking any explanation at all. What did it mean, for Tierzuroth to simply be gone? With eyes peeled to the destruction, lest she trip, she asked, “Your mother turned into something. A-A beast. Do you know what it was?”
I do. The ‘beast,’ as you called it, is not Mother. A part of Mother, yes, but not her. He is something different.
Sora stilled at that, unable to deny the course of shivers running down her spine at the idea. Dira had begged her never to name it, yet Uluron spoke of this... other with affection. “Can you explain?”
Laughter laced Uluron’s elegant voice, a nostalgic sort of joy within it. He was not a parent. A brother and a friend. He was mischief and would allow my brothers and sisters and I to miss our naps and roll in our own filth. He taught us to hunt and fight as would suit a dragon. The only uncomfortable truth to admit amid all the beautiful memories was that, unlike Mother, he despised Father.
“So Chaos truly is two people?”
I never knew, Sora. I never thought to ask. I simply assumed everyone’s mothers had multiple forms.
Sora resumed her cautious exploration, uncertain of what to make of any of it, but she forgot all that as she reached what she could only assume was the former town center.
A perfect circle had been cleared among the ruins, larger in diameter than Sora was tall. Emblazoned in the earth, fire still smoldering at the edges, was a frightful sigil, the demonic character quite clear.
Ku’Shya, Goddess of War, had been here.
The truth settled in cursed layers—that Khastra had been found here, that Etolié had surely told anyone who would listen, and that Ku’Shya...
“But no one is dead,” Sora muttered.
What have you found?
Sora crept back from the symbol, darkness descending with each step. A spark of holy light appeared in her hand, yet there was no comfort in the gesture. The eerie peace dissolved into dread, for the entrance to Daemenacht was near.
“It was Goddess Ku’Shya.”
Uluron’s silhouette shone starkly against the night sky, the stars and celestial visions thick enough to illuminate her white figure. She came closer to meet Sora, stepping haphazardly on debris. Will she return?
“I don’t know, but... I remember the executor was afraid of what would happen if she found out they had been hiding Khastra in their city. It has to be connected.”
Uluron’s glowing eyes surveyed the dark jungle, no peace in her sudden alertness. Be silent.
Sora obeyed, following Uluron’s line of sight. Nothing sang among the trees; no birds, no howling creatures. Yet a glimmer of silver cut through the blackness beyond. Sora withdrew a knife.
It charged. Sora readied her weapon, even as Uluron shifted to grab her—
And gasped as the world became... nothing.
Sora blinked, blind save for a pool of light engulfing her. Weapon readied, she stepped forward, yet made no progress at all, trapped within this spot of light.
Thought I’d finally lost you, Sora.
It was not Uluron, though the voice pervaded the corners of her mind instead of her ears. Nor was it Dira, for it was not a woman, no... “Chaos?”
So you do have thoughts in that dumb head of yours.
... Nor was it a man. This voice held the androgyny of a child, though derision marred its innocence. “Are you Uluron’s, um, friend?”
She told you?
Sora attempted another step, yet nothing changed in her magical prison. “A little bit. Is this real?”
Your brain thinks it is.
“Why am I here? What did you do?”
Dira says I have to stop my nonsense. She agreed to let us talk. Only talk. No eye for an eye. Too bad. I’d love to rip yours out.
Sora lowered her weapon, finding no sense in fighting in a mind prison. Chaos ruled this realm, whatever it was. “You’re the one who keeps threatening me.”
It’s only fair.
“What does that mean?”
It means we’ll never be even, but it helps me feel better.
Though her better judgement screamed, Sora slipped the weapon back into her wrist sheath, letting her arms fall slack. “Dira is my niece. I knew her in another life. But who are you?”
It’s a secret. But Dira says you’ll keep it.
Something shifted in the darkness beyond, a figure pacing beyond the comprehension of her vision. Yet Sora stiffened not at the sight but at its gait—for it did not walk, it lumbered oddly, as though... not a humanoid. “I swear to never share whatever you’re about to show me.”
I believe you, Sora. You kept mom’s secrets, too.
Too personal. Too... direct. “Do I know you now?”
The entity paused, and Sora swore she caught a glimpse of gold. If you don’t, I’ll take back my promise and eat you.
It grew with each step; its distance farther than Sora had anticipated. Bestial, yes, and within the fraying darkness approached a creature Sora could not meet the eye of, so massive it stood. Akin to horses bred for half-giants, but this was no steed. Emerging from the blackness was a giant wolf—one eye whole, the other one glowing from an empty, shattered socket.
Sora swayed, struggling to draw her breath as she stared up at this ghost—for he was, oh he was, one of many who appeared in her nightmares. “Oh, gods...”
Chaos held threadbare sanity, spoke of voices in her head, her form mutilated not by injury but by dark, demonic magic.
And what had Odessa said of witches who consumed their familiars? They were never the same again.
Say my name.
Sora stared into death’s visage, for she had watched his final breath—and his brutal, violent end facing the barrel of Mereen’s gun. “Demitri.”
* * *
Sora blinked, and the world reappeared.
She faced a sky of stars, the clearing left by the leveling of Tierzuroth leaving one beautiful thing. Another blink, and a face appeared—a silhouette backlit by those same celestial lights, but Sora would know Dira’s shadow in any life.
And though it was Dira, her locs distinctive, moonlight illuminated a frightful truth to her countenance. A skeletal hand caressed her face, drawing their gazes to meet. Yet the bones were not human, no. A paw, yes. And Sora knew it now to be a wolf.
That frightful visage bore half of Dira’s face, but the other half was bone—a wolf’s skull, deformed to fit her beautiful face. One eye reflected silver; the wolf’s eye glowed gold. There was beauty in her broken smile, part of her lips torn away in the macabre deformation of her face. A second glance revealed exposed neckbones disappearing beneath her tunic, culminating in the skeletal, bestial arm. Moonlight cast her shadow, no longer hidden behind what was surely magic. Not a woman, no, but an animal’s shape. Watching within was the wolf himself. “Sora?”
She spoke kindly, and so it was Dira.
Yet Sora’s adrenaline surged, leaping up as she whipped out one of her many knives—only to grow dizzy from the speed, stumbling until Uluron’s claw righted her.
Chaos rose, hands held to placate. Around her neck, she wore the pouch containing her anchor. “Sora, I do not know precisely what you overheard in the temple, but—”
“You’re a witch.” Sora’s memory roared with the haunting refrains from Odessa of familiars and those desperate enough to consume them. “You’re a witch, and you ate your familiar. That’s why you’re... u-unstable.”
Chaos’ smile held amusement and cruelty both, but perhaps that was not her fault. “You can say I am insane.”
“You’re not, though. You’re more calculating than Soliel. You have an agenda. You...” Sora’s breath came as a gasp, her mind reeling from every new revelation. “You’re Demitri.”
“Sometimes, yes. He always speaks. Sometimes he manages to break through. Sometimes I allow it because it’s easier to give in.”
“Who granted you Demitri as a familiar?”
“Ayla.”
The name rang like an omen in the silent night.
Sora rapidly shook her head, uncertain if she would cry or scream. “You killed Sol Kareena.”
“That was clearly Soliel—”
“You knew she would die!”
Chaos faced the earth, her skeletal hand grasping her fleshy wrist. “And what a perfect rallying cry it was. I felt the godly pledges. Whatever you said afterward, kudos.”
Sora’s rage simmered, arm trembling as she held the knife aloft. “How dare you.”
“I’m trying to thank you—”
“Shut up!” Sora took a step back, knife readied. “Don’t you dare make me a part of this!”
“It wasn’t always like this between us, you know,” Chaos said. “You and I were thick as thieves. You practically raised me—”
Sora took another step. “I’ve killed family before.”
“So you will walk away and go where? Leave me to hunt down your sister on my own—” Chaos wrenched herself to the side, anger pulling her mutilated mouth into a grimace. “You won’t.”
Sora warily lowered her weapon. “I want to talk to Demitri.”
With the eerie twist of Chaos’ head, her skeletal side facing out, Sora knew without the confirmation. “I’m speaking.”
