Wheel Within the Wheel
Following
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 3.5 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Tear Beach- Prologue Chapter 24* Chapter 25
Exagora, Continent- Al Bidaya
Ongoing 3351 Words
Ongoing 3351 Words
Chapter 6
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Exagora Calendar
Heruth was finally going to surprise him with the news: he was a father.
This time, Father is going to be proud of me. Heruth thought. She sat in her usual clothes on the hard stone floor. The linen and straw were coarse against her tender skin, and stuck to her in the stuffy room. Father wants me tonight. I'll give him a present he'll never expect! He's not like the others, she mused, no, no, he would want her surprise.
The other girls sat, knees tucked up against their chests, slowing rocking themselves to go back to sleep. Their hollow, bruised eyes spoke of their vileness, their inability to please Father. But Heruth wouldn't be much different. She had displeased him much in her time, drawing his fist when she couldn't deliver. But Heruth's life had changed 5 months ago. The caretakers had always said that the girls couldn't have children. Well, Father had performed a miracle, and Heruth got to help him with her.
She cradled the always quiet baby in the corner furthest from the candle, the spot the others made her sit in. When she tried to lay down in another spot, though cramped as it was, they had given her more space in the back of the little, square room. Though it was more luxurious, she could see the baby just fine with her kind of sight. During her months when she was big, they gave her more food, and she was still always hungry. I can't thank them enough for all the help with the baby. she thought.
Father had wanted her before during the big months, but the girls insisted that they would go instead, sometimes forcefully holding her back. She wanted to see him, to spend the precious time with him she needed to feel alive and useful. As she got bigger, she started to realize that she didn't have enough strength to please him. She sat with the baby after she had come out these past weeks, waiting for the time when she could present the fruits of her hard labor.
One of the girls was sobbing quietly across the room. No one really spoke that often, except to ask if they could see the baby. This one had just been called upon this morning, and red splotches lined her face and arms, with some purple ones visible below her linen shift. In the quiet of the room she moaned, "Make it end... I'd do anything!" The others stirred uncomfortably, most still trying, unsuccessfully, to fall asleep. "You want- what?" she mumbled. "...If it takes me away, yes." The girl shuddered for a long moment. She then sat straight up, inspecting the room, lingering on each face. In total there were about 10 of them on average, some not coming back and more being added. This past year no one was added, and the number had decreased to the 8 left in this room. The girl, Berdine, wiped the tears from her eyes. She smiled slightly, showing the long fangs they all had in common, and with not as much as a sound bowed her head. Although she could tell Berdine kept an eye on Heruth.
Heruth moved towards the door as she heard sudden footsteps. She tucked the baby under her shift and moved her to her back, where she could both hide and cradle the child until her debut to Father. The male caretaker guided her up two floors, to the right, and into Father's large, lush chambers. He waited for her, button shirt half off, strong muscular build imposing fear and reverence on her. She began to sweat even more profusely now, lightheaded and unable to contain her excitement.
"I have a gift for you!" she sputtered. He reached for her, "You'll do well if you don't talk, woman. You know what happens if you-" he cut off, inspecting her face. "Are you new?" he asked. "You look like a fresh piece. Don't worry though, you won't feel left out for long." He smirked, grabbing her shoulder.
She was shocked. All this time she thought he missed her, getting the other girls instead. No, I'm special to him! After all, we made her together! She switched around the baby to her front, pressing her into his arms. "I'm not new, I helped make the impossible happen, see? She's yours! Isn't she something?"
Father looked bewildered. He looked back and forth towards her and the baby. He's admiring his handiwork. she thought. "This is really your child?" he asked, veins bulging on his reddening face. "Ours!" Heruth whimpered.
He sighed, his face calming. He suddenly took her arm in one hand, the wrapped child in the other arm, pulling them out of the room and onto the outdoor balcony. She stumbled over herself, dizziness coming upon her, but she was refreshed by the cool night air. She hadn't breathed fresh air since- how long had it been? She couldn't count the years she had been with this Father. "We still need to name her- I waited several weeks so we could."
He looked out into the city, his face only lit by the loop in the sky, the thin white line glowing strongly to her eyes. He held the motionless baby up, saying, "You can call it anything you want."
With one hand, he tossed the baby into the canal below.
...
*The cavern smelled more of stale air than rotted carrion, this day. Gelland wiped the dust off her brow in the cavern. The smell became more bearable with each day working on it. She dismissed the glowing, black door and swept the dust and bones out into the open mountain air. She left it open, letting the cool breath of evening waft into the cavern. She brushed herself off, then sneezed. It was easy to get sick from dust, so she made it a habit of getting fresh air often.
To her immediate right, and passing over the cave wall, was the wall of the capitol, Medina Gilt. The tops seemed to reach the clouds. She could just make out glowing shapes of guards when she switched to her heat vision. She closed her eyes and maintained that sight in her mind. In a moment, she viewed herself from just in front of her. The colors ranged from orange on her skin, armpits, and the "broom" of fire she held in her hands. Most everything else was either blue or green. She opened her eyes again, and just saw straight in front of her.
She was making herself get used to it. After the fight with Lixo, when she'd absorbed that Vein, so much of her habits had changed. For one thing, her heat sight was stretched, no longer just limited to what she saw with her eyes. This was the case for other densers, but hers could be maintained while running.
And run she had. She had first learned of the sight difference when she ran away from Aubury. She'd taken rest at night, breaking from her long trek though the mountain pass going north. She was wakened by sharp teeth digging into her back. Multiple pairs. She had screamed, burying her face in the dirt, and covering her head in her hands. They kept digging into her, little claws burrowing into her thighs. She had received an image of little creatures, glowing orange. Three sarcophilus.
Not knowing what to do, she had called out for help from the Voice, the one who had revived her. Her body received strength, and reformed in that instant. Still clenching her eyes shut, she had grabbed each and pinned them by their throats while they clambered at her arms. She'd barely felt it. Her meal that week was different. The sarcophiluses were like badgers that could glide from tree to tree, with a flap that connected from their wrists to thighs. She learned how to hunt for her own food and the danger of not living within walls.
Her incisors helped her rip at the tough muscle. But once she got to Medina Gilt, she knew what she'd have to do. The process was unbearable, having to grind down her own teeth so that she could look normal. She spat blood several times in the process, and her gums ached for two weeks. She'd taken shelter in the poorer part of the city, an abandoned well that ran five stories down into the ground, with water at the bottom. Densers had made rooms on the sides of the walls originally. But over time, the well became filled with excrement, and rougher folk moved in.
It was hot and pungent. The smell stuck to her clothes. She could afford better housing because of Lixo's money, but for her to live in another part of town, she would have to show her identification card. That would lead to her execution, surely. After a month, she had her first altercation with someone who wanted her room. He was badly wounded, and she had to move. Her incisors grew back from the healing power in that instant. Before moving out, she had to grind down her teeth again. She bought some supplies from around the city before going back out of the walls.
She was more specific with her intent of the healing after that, and began using it every day. She noticed that she felt the power replenish every day, with each eclipse. The teeth did not grow back, but it helped to know that she could get them back if she so desired. It hurt to remove what she'd come to accept as a part of herself.
From Lixo's chips she found something her father had told her he was fond of. It was a short shaft of metal, with a hole through it. She had found his blowpipe! She'd never used one, but this was very special, in that it had an attribution of a spiral of wind that would make the darts shoot out at high speed. After a bit of practice it was also clear that it was insanely accurate, even with her lack of experience with it.
That week she hunted in the mountains that ran parallel and into Medina Gilt. She fed on a liram, a goat, and even a panther who'd impaled itself on the black flame spikes she'd set around her tiny camp. It had apparently tried to pounce on her while she slept. That gave her a shiver when she woke to find its blank eyes staring her down. She was thankful that she wasn't found by the sarcophilus again. Or worse, the maned metabat, which could carry her off while she slept. The high walls had been made long ago to guard against them. And the people were still afraid of such fangs. From then on she kept a solid shield of flame over her while she slept, but still had holes in it for her air.
After three weeks, she had tracked a large bear down the mountain. It wasn't big enough to be classified as behemoth, but if she hadn't been careful, it could've overtaken her. It had nudged its way into a cave. She heard roars and decided to wait it out. When it came back out, she shot it with a dart made with lightning. She felt a tinge of panic and sadness when the first only gave it a dead leg. She had to give it a couple more, and landed one into the neck, and it fell. She, as had become her way, thanked the Voice for giving it to her. The other roars were its family. She decided to drive them away with fire. She didn't have enough storage left in her chips to take them as well.
She had found a lot of bones and dried blood in the den, which made her gag. It gave her a reminder of the toxic well in the city. It also brought back thoughts of finding Kolen, fallen in his own blood. She spent some time ignoring and working around it, but had to pray for strength while cleaning. After making the black flame door to the cave, she attributed some solid white lights, and set them around the perimeter of the immediate entrance. She had then explored down the line of the cave and found its end. It was of collapsed rubble. Medina Gilt had been densed out of the mountains. Clearly this had been a passageway of some kind.
Having cleared the cave out for a week, Gelland stretched in the opening to the cave. The blood had been hard emotionally to get up, but she managed it. Her days consisted of her cleaning and continued training that her father had taught her. However, she had to make adjustments. As a Metamorph, though twenty and two, she felt lithe as a teenager. And her physique had changed from the use of the powers. Each day, she used the two she knew. One made her run faster, and things passed through her. The other refreshed her body and made her far stronger. And there was a third she hadn't needed, but could feel. These lasted for a minute per eclipse.
The refreshment made her recovery time instantaneous. Meaning that her body was morphing faster than she tore it through training. She studied her shoulders and thighs. They had thicker bands of muscle than she'd seen on a woman. Though she was short, she was becoming a sculpture. She shook her head. How long could she do just this? She missed people. Not people, but having friends. Talking.
There was still some light out. Maybe she could go into the city for a bit? Grab food that another had prepared? But what if something happened?
"Something always happens to me." It barely came out. I don't believe that anymore. They don't need to happen to me. Things happen for my benefit. With that thought, she went in to change, washed her face and put up her hair, then headed towards the gate.
Walking through Medina Gilt was both wondrous and anxiety inducing. Aside from the hundreds of thousands of people who lived here, the buildings were all at least three stories high and apartments densely packed together. As she headed north through the city, towards what she recently understood to be the rich sector, it became even more so. Most buildings here seemed to share an indistinguishable architecture, which though redundant, amazed her. The white stone was accented by copper inlays, covered over by a glassy coating. Terraces and colorful hanging plants also made it pleasant to walk through, and the abundance of overhangs kept people cool despite the close proximity to the desert. She believed it was due to Densing that much of the work was possible, as transforming matter with a touch allowed creative minds to explode with possibility.
She didn't pass many people this night, which she was happy for, as she felt she was almost expected to stop and chat. A friendly people to be sure, so long as they like you. she thought. Gelland stopped her stroll to look at a wall of posters. Wanted posters of "Perils to Society". And her face was among the others. More of a caricature of her. Her "likeness" was a drawing of a woman with blacked out eyes and long canines in a shrieking expression. Its face displayed flames on either side of its wild long, black hair.
She reached up and touched her teeth. It still felt odd to have the smooth, removable veneers instead of feeling her real ones. Having hurried to Leevio gave her enough time to get them before the news reached the city, and proceeded here. Even though she was a Hal, enough heap could make a man cooperate and possibly keep silent. Hopefully the teeth, hair color, and braid were enough to set her apart from this... thing.
Her poster had more description underneath the caricature: "Highly Dangerous- Hal and Possible Metamorph- Run On Sight- Report To Local Guard". She had figured someone would suspect her as a Metamorph after she had escaped Aubury trailing light behind her. An outlaw Metamorph was unheard of. They were thrust into high positions and held great acclaim. Who wanted to give that up to save four strangers? Yet her plan of leaving seemed to work out for those four. "Nightstalker Coersion" was what they were calling it, as if she'd been controlling them in the first place. Any lie would do to prolong fear. Hopefully there will be a day when we don't have to be scared of each other. she mused. But remember, Gel, don't hold onto a hope that's not promised. I'd just go down the wrong path again.
A lesson that she was sure The Voice had the biggest part in. Gelland was still baffled by how she had become a Metamorph in the first place. Losing didn't grant a person the Vein's power, much less being killed like she had. A show of prowess would awaken Zil's Scales and drive Zil's essence into the winner. Six people had been fighting around it, too, not the set number of five that was necessary. Everything about that was wrong from what she and others had said about the Vein rituals. Though Kolen had said not to channel Zil, the Scales had responded to those who acted according to Ziligism teachings. They were rewarded. Accepted by everyone.
Yet what Gelland was given caused her to be separated from society. No, that was her fault. She killed Lixo, but in self defense. But she had come for him in the first place. She groaned, putting her hand up to her forehead. She could turn herself in, but to what end? The country wanted her dead for existing, and she could serve herself up on a platter. Yet she was a different person now. Shouldn't they treat her as different? Probably not. She had different thoughts and reasonings now, but she could still feel the envy creeping in on her mind. Just as she felt the new thoughts flanking those old ones. She was still Gelland. A bit or very different, she couldn't tell.
If Kolen wasn't dead, she could ask him without fear of judgment. Never had she seen him so happy as those couple of days. And she didn't know why. She had never seen her uncle, someone that Kolen had only spoken of. He didn't come. She didn't know where he and his family were and she put him out of her mind. She had to bury her father, alone. Everything had been twisted.
The only thing she could trust was that she needed The Voice, who had spoken only once to her until this point, to guide her. It said It would never leave me, but what am I supposed to do while It's silent? I keep asking You what I'm supposed to do! I left everything, give me a purpose! she begged in her heart skyward. You got me to say that I wanted to help. Well, what happens when I've got no one? She felt a little ashamed for doubting. It sought her out, after all. I just want to hear what You have to say...
She walked along some stairways to get up higher to see Medina Gilt. Stopping on a lofty walkway over one of the city's canals, she looked up and admired the ring lighting up the night. She was able to pick out a couple on a balcony not far from her. They had a swaddled child with them, undoubtedly in awe of the privilege as the man hefted the child in the air. She leaned her arms on the railing, musing on what it would be like to have a baby. He threw the baby over the railing.
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by 3 Armored Kittens · Prodromos v.1.1 - World Anvil 0.9.15.043 © 2017-2024 [en] | Anvil Time: 02:28, Dec 27 2024
BETA READER: Who's Heruth, I wonder? Are we in a flashback? Remove tags with interior monologues (e.g., the italics tell me it's a thought--I don't need the tag, "she thought.") Wheh! The Father character comes charging out of the words strong, nasty, and oh-so domineering. I love the contrast in masculine and feminine view of baby-making and the value of children for this ""Father" character. I appreciate the monetary value explanation. The exposition seems to stop the story. It would be better to mix the description in with the action and some dialog. Does Gelland ever speak under her breath? She lives in her head for the most part. I love the Voice--tell me more! The ending circles back to the beginning from a different perspective. Provide an indication maybe that these two sections of the chapter run concurrent with each other.