568 BC, Close to the Area which will become known as Area 51, Nevada
Ravanna gave up her name the day the Eldren convened.
The strange breeze that had blown in from the ocean had swept far over the continents; it had thrilled in the hearts and in the nostrils of all the Taylini who remained in this green-filled land, but not as much as it had in the Mallay'neem. The Women Who Watched all knew, to a soul, what was coming; some had visions of the Doom, and knew in their minds eye the faces of the warriors who would one day fight against that awesome evil. Some had felt the teeth of the beasts at their throats, and many of those indomitable women knew fear. Still others, like Ravanna and her mother, had sensed it, almost like a scent born on ill winds, the scent of fire and blood and a deep malicious infection, insurmountable in its malignancy.
Usually such portents would have been lost on a child such as Ravanna had been, but these were world-shaking times. Soul-shaking times. Within two thousand years, such a short period of time to those long lived beings, the Doom would swallow whole the world unless the Taylini could prevent it; and they dared not rely on the humans. Already wars were being mounted about the world; their lesser kin seemed determined to wipe each other out with fire and sword and acts of cruelty.
Despite being an inferior race, filled with sickness and cursed with short lives and a deafness to the world they inhabited, the humans too had felt the breath of the Doom upon them, if not as potently as the Taylini had. It had inspired in them such darkness that the Taylini wept for shame. Even the most goodly of the humans was bound to succumb to the machinations of evil, they believed, and as long as the darkness lay deep in the hearts of the humans, the Taylini would have to take charge of the saving of the world.
It had taken years of whispering to the winds, feeling the waters, and gazing into the fires before all of the Mallay'neem had contacted each other. It had started with Aurmora that sunny afternoon as she had stared out towards the horizon before answering her daughter, lavender eyes gazing towards the sea. She had sent the call on the winds to her sisters, to the west. She had hoped that, in sending it against the tide of the dawn that perhaps it may change the portent, but in the turning of the seasons her hopes of that had faded.
On the same day each year the Taylini stood, overcome with a feeling of dread, gazing towards the west with their faces buffeted by the breeze that never failed to blow. Even Bouron could feel it weighing down on him, could scent the blood and putrescence in the air. On those days his silver eyes would cloud to gray, the color they would eventually turn to once he matured into an adult, and his hands would clench on whatever he would be holding at the time. It took all of his will not to be sickened by the caress of the portent of evil.
For his sister it was much worse than what he experienced, far worse than the first time she had raised her face to the breeze. Every child of a Mallay'nis stood a greater chance of becoming an Elder, if a male, and a Mallay'nis, if female, than did the children of all other Taylini. Benaurin had not been an Elder, nor had he been born for greatness other than loving and protecting his family; but Aurmora was the strongest of the Mallay'neem collectively, and their people had waited long centuries to see which of he children would be cursed with the power.
That fateful afternoon, years ago, had marked Ravanna's first day as a Mallay'nirin, one who would one day become a Mallay'nis; her breaths the first she had taken as she had inherited the powers of her mother, and her father had sighed in relief that he had not lost Bouron to it as well.
The successive years she lived as a Mallay'nirin only brought more and more intense portents.
On the annual day when the Taylini froze in dread, Ravanna would stand with her mother in the woods by their home, gazing towards the sea. She did not have visions of the future as some did, nor any sensation of pain or infection spreading through the world, but each vigil that she stood would end with her heart feeling as if it had been torn from her chest, broken with such a grief as she had not thought possible, and she would near collapse with sorrow. But her knees never bent, and she stood as still as stone next to the formidable Aurmora. She didn't share her experiences with her mother, nor her mother with her; each experienced a personal hell, intimate to the individual woman, and both knew it. No words needed to be spoken.
In the earlier years Bouron would ask her, later, when they lay down to sleep in their comfortable rush bed the twins still shared, what she sensed. But she would never speak of it to him, who she had once shared everything that was in her mind. Not long after Bouron sought his own bed of rushes, and the twins lost their bond they had shared since birth, that closeness of mind and spirit that bound them together. Although it hurt Ravanna, she was still glad of it. The Taylini did not age as humans did; they could remain as children for centuries until they consciously decided to begin maturing into adults. It was time for Bouron to start growing up, just as she was. The time for being children was waning.
She could sense the other Taylini children around the world slowly coming to the same conclusion; it would take nearly a thousand years for them to reach their physical and mental maturity, to become adults, barely enough time before the Doom would descend upon them. A Taylini could figuratively live forever, unless they were slain, which was very hard to do; but they aged with a bitter slowness that often led them to envy of humans. So it was with heavy hearts that the eternal children gave up their innocence so that they might become soldiers against the Doom.
It made her want to weep. But she was a Mallay'nirin now, she couldn't afford to.
The years passed, and each of them ended with the breeze of portents, like the great tolling of a death knell bell to herald the coming dark times. Ravanna slowly grew in inches, her eyes darkening slightly at first, then to a greater extent as time dragged on, till they had taken on a stormy gray hue, and beneath their surface would slowly pulse her power. She was perhaps the weakest of the Mallay'neem, but she was Aurmora's daughter, and far more powerful than any mere mortal.
She was physically the equivalent of a human teenager when the council of the Eldren had been called. Over six hundred years had passed since the first portent and now that every soul of the Taylini had begun preparation to confront the dark tide ahead, the Mallay'neem and their male counterparts were ready to come together for a sharing of news, tactics, and the forming of what plan of action to take against the dark. Benaurin and Bouron stayed behind to guard their coastal forest home and Aurmora and Ravanna walked many months to the east, over mountain and through valley to reach the site that the Mallay'neem had agreed upon.
It was a plateau, windswept and dry but covered with tough grasses; it was a beauty to look upon in the light of day, a panorama painted with the colors of the sun; but in the chill of the night air is when Aurmora and Ravanna found that place, where the Desert Gate rested, deep below the earth.
"Redana lienae-ya," greeted the first of the Mallay'neem as the pair approached their hearthfire; Welcome my friends. Aurmora smiled with great grace and despite her worn traveling clothes and the tiredness that weighed heavily on her, she bowed to the woman deeply, and shakily Ravanna followed suit. Aurmora may be the most powerful of the Mallay'neem, but Ystande was the eldest of their kind; she was one of the last of the Taylini souls to have passed from the red planet through the Gate almost thirty thousand years ago to escape the last Doom.
This Mallay'nis was ancient, but physically untouched by age, save the depth and power in her pupil-less sapphire eyes and the unnerving richness in her voice. Ravanna did not flinch as the voice flowed over her, nor as the eyes looked deep within her own; but it was difficult. Instead she inclined her head to Ystande in respect and greeting. Aurmora replied then, "Redana lien."
The old Mallay'nis looked over Ravanna then, inspecting the child that had now almost grown into a woman. "Ah so, this is Aurmora's daughter," she mused, looking at her intently, for what, Ravanna could not tell, but she stoically bore the the diamond-hard gaze.
"We shall have to hope," the woman finally muttered before turning to the four other women and the two men at the fire. Ystande strode away, Aurmora following close behind.
Swallowing the lump that had accumulated in her throat, Ravanna followed at a distance. She couldn't help but notice that she was the only Mallay'nirin here; there was no presence of her other sisteren anywhere, only fully recognized Mallay'nis and the Elders.
Greetings were shared between the eight Eldren as Ravanna stood to the side; one by one their gazes came to rest upon her as the night drew on. She greeted each in turn, impeccably polite and mannersome. She knew each of their names and faces since the time she was a child; the Taylini were not a numerous race, and they bred but rarely. Each child was greeted into the world by the Eldren and Ravanna and her twin brother had been like every other.
Maurimosa, Ystande, Ullylipsia, Fyare, and Gerensy. Hauladin and Nikolist. The Mallay'neem and the Elders. And Aurmora, the strongest of them all. Here were the Eldren, the power of the Taylini race, who could not die unless slain, who did not age unless willing, who were untouchable by disease and illnesses of all sorts, and who were naturally the strongest, fastest, and most intelligent of all beings in this world. Humans had named them gods in ages past, worshiped them, indeed they might still in this present night; to them the humans had dedicated so much devotion, for them the humans had built cities, temples, pyramids. To them the humans had sacrificed livestock, plants, incense and, sometimes, their own children. To the Taylini they called out in agonies, hoping for their prayers to be answered. And yet the Taylini would still not appear before them.
They had made that mistake once, and an entire world had died, choked in red dust. In Doom.
