Chapter Six: Weariness and Readiness
Skids gazed at Naila, fascinated by what she had just told him. "Incredible," he murmured. "So you're saying she doesn't need anything resembling a transfusion?"
Naila shook her head. "No, she does not. All she requires is that I bring her the food that she needs, and that will be enough."
They were talking about the "rehabilitation process," as Ratchet had called it, of the body in the coffin that Jazz and his team had brought back with them from Egypt. Almost everyone had assumed that it would require some sort of esoteric medical procedure, but as it turned out, no such thing was needed. All that needed to be done was for someone to bring a plate of organic foodstuffs (usually a hefty mix of vegetables, fruits, bread, and meat and fish), along with a container of water. Initially the requested amounts of food and water were incredible, and the meat had to be raw, but lately, the amount had gone down, and the meat or fish that was being brought was often lightly grilled, with only a sprinkling of salt and pepper.
Skids mumbled in understanding, and then gave Naila a very concerned look. "I know it isn't my place to ask but…are you alright? You don't…look too good."
That much was the truth. Over the last few weeks, Skids noticed that there was something seriously wrong with the human woman. At first he chalked it up to just being tired after what had happened in Egypt, and to the trip to the Ark (Spike had called it "jet lag"), but Skids was pretty sure that it did not take a human being nearly a month to recover from that. When he saw the shadows that ringed Naila's eyes, and the decidedly unhealthy complexion of her skin, neither of which disappeared over the course of time that she had been at the Ark, he became convinced that, whatever was bothering Naila, it was becoming very detrimental to her health.
He leaned in closer. "You humans call your recharge sequence 'sleep,' right? Are you sure you're getting enough sleep, Naila?"
She looked up at him, and had she been in good health, Skids was sure she would have looked startled. As things stood, though, she simply looked weary. At length, she sighed, and closed her eyes. "So it has been that obvious, then?"
Skids nodded, and smiled comfortingly, showing that he was ready to listen. "What's been keeping you up?"
Naila was silent for a while, too intent on staring at the wide swath of desert that stretched out in front of where they were seated. It was their habit, as of late, to sit together on a high bluff to watch the sunset, only returning to the Ark when Naila was finished with her daily prayers, done while facing towards Mecca.
When she spoke, her voice was a low murmur, and Skids found himself having to adjust his audios in order to hear her better: "Do you remember when Meriat possessed me in the cave?"
Skids nodded slowly. Something in his processors told him that this was not going to be good. "I remember."
"Her possession of my body was not without its effects. The physical ones are easy to overcome: exhaustion and weariness, after all, are easily cured by good food and enough sleep. However…" She paused, and seemed to swallow before she looked up at Skids, her eyes dark and haunted. "When she released me, I later found out that there were…some things that she left behind in my own consciousness, and whenever I sleep, they come back as dreams – no." She shook her head. "They are nightmares."
Skids continued to stare at her, unnerved by what he saw swirling in Naila's eyes. "What are they about?" he asked softly.
It took Naila longer this time to respond, but when she did her voice was choked up with fear: "Children. Many children. Dying."
She listened to that conversation with guilt in her heart. She knew that leaving trace memories behind was unavoidable when one took possession of another being's body, but she had not intended for her more…violent memories to be left behind.
But at the same time, what was there to be so surprised about? The memories that were left behind in such circumstances were always the ones that carried the most weight, the most impact – and in her case, those memories were the saddest and most violent.
She would have to make amends somehow. If the human would allow, she would carefully eliminate the traces of those memories from her mind. They were not hers, after all, and she was worried that to leave them there would bring on an irreversible madness. She had seen that happen, too, long ago.
It took nothing more than a thought to bring her back to where she currently was: in her now-open coffin, staring into the darkness as her body healed itself of the ravages of time. The process had been slow, but now she was capable of actually eating the food that was left for her without having to resort to the means she had had to use prior to being able to move in her body again.
By the Moons, though, it hurt.
Knowing that she was well enough to start walking about, she forced herself to ignore the pain and concentrated on moving limbs that had not seen use for…she was not sure for how long. She would have to find out precisely how long ago it had been since she was last awake. And then she would have to find her brother, and her liege-lady…
But that could wait. At that moment, she was more concerned with seeing if she could actually stand, let alone walk.
Slowly, she pushed herself up into a sitting position, groaning softly at the pain. It would have been all too easy for her to simply levitate herself into a standing position, but she knew that would only defeat the point of getting onto her own two feet by herself. With much straining of unused muscles and bones, she managed to position herself, first in a kneeling position, and then slowly, painfully, she forced herself to stand.
The pain was that ripped through her was ferocious, but she did not dare prevent herself from feeling it, as she normally would have. The pain indicated that she was alive and awake, and that she was not merely walking in some strange dream. It also told her what was wrong, and where, so that she would be able to find a way to treat it later on.
She had been taught that the first step upon waking from the Youma Orsomo was always the most painful, and her teacher's words were proven all too true the moment she stepped out of the coffin to put her foot on the floor. The movement in and of itself was painful, but the pressure, despite being as light as she could make it without losing her balance, was excruciating. She uttered a cry, unable to keep herself from doing so, but the pain left her quickly enough to leave only a dull ache behind that she could bear without screaming.
The next step that she took was less painful than the first, and the next steps she took she could do without her entire body protesting. She was still sore in a great many places, but she knew that such was normal, and that the more she moved around, the faster the pain would decrease.
In the darkness, her hands reached out to touch the cool surface of the karyt aksha that had kept her alive all this time, from which she drew energy so that her soul did not simply slip away into death. She drew energy from the crystal slowly, sipping of its power, taking only enough to soothe and strengthen her. She had been very careful with the amount that she took from it over the years that she had been deep in the Youma Orsomo, preferring to wander in a half-dream than actively observe the world while her body lay inactive.
At length, she felt strong enough to leave this dark chamber, this cocoon where she had completed the careful regeneration of her physical body, and slowly, slowly, headed towards the door, indicated by the seam of light that outlined its frame.
She was ready.
She pressed a small button close to the side of the door, causing the metal panel to slide open. The light from beyond hit her eyes in full force, and she winced at the brightness of it. Her secondary irises pin-wheeled closed on instinct, and the world was shaded in blue. As soon as her eyes recovered, she carefully opened her secondary irises, and gazed upon what appeared to be an immense hallway made of orange-colored metal. She had to stop herself from closing her secondary irises again: the sharpness and brightness of the color made her dizzy.
Yet again, she told herself that this was nothing more than a direct result of having been in the Youma Orsomo for so long. She knew her eyes would adjust again after a while, and that the only way she was ever going to do that was if she viewed the world as she normally would. Nevertheless, she allowed herself to keep her secondary irises slightly closed, if only to ease the transition from time spent in half-dream and darkness to reality and light.
She focused her mental energies again, seeking out the human woman whom she had come to trust in this whole debacle. It did not take her long: the moment their minds touched and brushed, she sent her a telepathic message – or rather, an impression of where she was and how she was feeling.
Naila's response did not consist of words so much as a swirl of images and emotions: a high mountain cliff overlooking a vast expanse of desert and a cavern entrance, accompanied by worry, concern…and fear: fear of what she would see, fear of what sort of entity she would be facing. But there was reassurance there, and the promise of haste. That was more than enough for her to know that she was on her way.
She withdrew the link then, taking care in doing so, since she was more than familiar with the effects of a sudden telepathic withdrawal, particularly on humans. She had barely done so when she felt her entire body vibrating to the rhythmic earthquakes that shook the hallway. Leaning against the wall for support, she watched as a tall black-and-white figure with strange wings and a red crest on its head emerged from the other end of the hallway.
The old fear suddenly clogged her throat, and her fingers tried to curl into the smooth metal of the wall behind her, seeking purchase where none could be found. The Damir Koiraya had happened so long ago, but the memories of that time were passed down from parent to child in a nearly unbroken chain, so that future generations would never forget the horror of that fateful day in their history, when thousands of innocents were slaughtered like livestock by hordes of the Maishunin.
But she forced herself to put those memories aside, to swallow her fear, to conquer it. She had been told – promised – that she could trust these entities, that though they were armed, they were, in truth, very much like the ones that were spoken of in the histories and legends of her people: those who had been more than happy to help them, even giving up their lives, if necessary – those who, though bearing weapons, might be considered amongst the Risionag.
She had no choice but to rely on that promise, and hope that she had not been lied to. She raised her voice, and spoke: "Teske…"
The giant stopped, almost in mid-step, and the great head turned to face her, brilliant blue eyes that seemed to glow with an inner light gazed down at her. She straightened slightly, and felt relief when the giant knelt down on one knee, as if in consideration to her height.
She raised her hand, and reached out to him. "Teske tu koa…"
The giant frowned, and she was amazed at how expressive their faces could be, for something that was made of metal. She watched as his mouth opened, as if to speak, but whatever he had been about to say was cut short by a sharp, high-pitched squeal that echoed from the opposite end of the corridor they were standing in.
As it turned out, the source of the sound was a blue and red vehicle of some sort. One of the doors opened, and the human woman stepped out hurriedly, even as the vehicle she had been in shifted and changed into another metallic giant – the one who said that they had not forgotten what had happened in Maraxa. She wanted to speak to him, but she could not, because the human woman was already by her side, holding her up.
The human woman spoke, but she did not understand what was being said. When she had taken possession of her, she had merely borrowed her knowledge of the language she had been using to speak to the giants; she herself had no knowledge of the language that was being spoken.
That would have to change.
She opened the telepathic link once more, and the moment she did so the human woman went silent, stiffening slightly before she relaxed. As soon as she did so, she closed her eyes to help herself focus, and delved into the human woman's mind, seeking the knowledge she would need, and at the same time, carefully eliminating the trace memories that had been left behind the last time. It was the least she could do to make amends for all the trouble that she had caused.
The assimilation of that knowledge did not take her very long, either, and not a moment later she opened her eyes, secondary irises swirling open as she did so, and she gazed at the stunned, wide-eyed face of she who called herself Naila Saab. "Meriat…?"
Meriat la Telescos mat Tir smiled, and spoke in the tongue that was foreign even to Naila herself, but which she herself had chosen to use because it appeared that everyone else around them spoke that language. "Forgive me, Naila. It was not my intention to cause you pain."
Naila stared. "How did you-"
"It is a little difficult to explain," Meriat responded, gently cutting her off with a shake of the head. "My mind is still…a little slow."
"Excuse us…"
Meriat turned to the source of the voice, and realized that it came from the blue-and-red giant – whom she recognized, now that she could see his face. She smiled up at him, and bowed slightly in greeting. "Our introductions did not go quite so well the last time, I believe." She straightened, and looked at him. "Skids… That is your name?"
Skids nodded. "Yes, yes, that's me!" He gestured to the black and white giant beside him. "And this is Prowl."
"Prowl…" Meriat said the name slowly, to accustom herself to its pronunciation, and then turned to face the one so named. Her secondary irises whirled shut again, and she saw the brilliant nest of sparkling energy that was encased in his chest: the sure sign of a living entity. She opened her irises again, and nodded. "It is an honor to meet you."
The giant named Prowl seemed momentarily confused, but nodded nevertheless. "The pleasure is all mine."
Just then, Naila gasped, and suddenly grabbed Meriat by the arm. Meriat frowned, and opened her mouth to ask what was happening, but Naila turned to her, and said: "You do not have any clothes on."
Meriat glanced down at herself, and realized that, aside from her very, very long hair, there was nothing else covering her body. It was also only then that she realized how much colder it was here, that the air had none of the dry heat of Egypt. When she was in the Youma Orsomo, she certainly could not tell such a thing, but now that she was back in her own body, she realized that the air was rather chilly.
The room they entered was dark, but a flick of a switch flooded it with light. It was a bedroom, furnished more for comfort than fashion, and obviously lived-in for a while now.
She turned to watch as Naila headed to a chest of drawers, and started pulling out folded items of clothing and laying them out on the bed. "You may have these," she said softly, her eyes carefully averted from Meriat. "I am sure that Spike and Carly will be able to get more for you later, and in a proper fit. Mine might be a little large on you."
Meriat nodded her head, and noticed that Naila's surface thought-patterns were leaning towards embarrassment. "Why are you so embarrassed, Naila?"
Naila froze, and then slowly looked up at her, and a wry smile teased her lips, before focusing on the clothes again. "You have been…asleep for nearly six thousand years, My Lady-"
"No titles, please. Meriat is more than enough."
"… Meriat, then. Much has changed since that time – more than you may have expected, I suppose." Naila straightened, and approached Meriat, her eyes serious and solemn, and Meriat was glad to see that there was no longer any trace of fear in them, nor was there a single ripple of such in her emotions.
In response to her statement, however, Meriat smiled, and shrugged slightly, her hair sliding off her shoulder with the gesture. "Worry not: I will learn."
That much she knew she would have to do. If it was indeed as Naila said, then she had been asleep for a very, very long time, even by the standards of her people. That she had remained safe and undisturbed, despite that immense span of time, and given the particular circumstances of her race, was impressive.
There was much, she realized then, that needed to be done, much that needed to be learnt – as well as new plans that had to be made. The presence of the metal giants – entities whom she knew existed but had never seen, save in the memories that had been handed down in her family through hundreds of generations – changed a great many things. What role they would, or would not, play in those changes depended entirely on who could reach whom first.
And Meriat was determined to make sure that these metal giants, whether they were really Risionag or, by some unfortunate turn of events, turned out to be Maishunin, would not be made known to the enemy.
TRANSLATION NOTES:
"Youma Orsomo" – Sleep of Ages
"karyt aksha" – soul crystal
"teske" – help
"Teske tu koa…" – Please help me…
"Damir Koiraya" – Blood Eclipse
"Risionag" – Giant from the Stars
"Maishunin" – Harbinger of Doom
