Author's Note: Apologies to anyone who speaks Spanish. I had to turn to Google Translate. If you know how to correctly say what one of my characters was trying to ask, please let me know.
Also, I've changed my mind about not updating my profile. Apparently, I confused some people. I find it kind of funny since as soon as I said I wasn't going to update it anymore I got a ton of hits to the thing. Just goes to show what happens when you take away something, amiright? ;) So expect to see updates every few days on there again.
Starborn
Ahandra opened her eyes.
Spiraling clouds rushed across a golden sky, their feathery tendrils bathed in orange and pink. A warm breeze brushed over her naked skin and she gasped, her chest heaving as she filled her lungs with its salty scent, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes. She was alive. But where was she?
Ahandra glanced around and found herself nestled inside a shallow valley, surrounded by small dunes covered in whispering grass. The constant thunder of unseen waves and the hiss of sea spray sliding across the sand drowned all other sounds.
Pink sand sifted like silk over her hands as she slowly sat up, searching for the water's edge. She crawled up one of the dunes, the tufted grass tickling her calves as a vast ocean filled her view, its dark waters glittering as the first sun rose above the horizon. The amethyst eye of Sa'arezan hung low in the sky, falling stars flashing beneath the ringed moon as it drew the crashing waves back into the deep.
The beautiful scene blurred as tears streamed down her cheeks.
She touched her face, gasping as she felt soft lips, a pointed nose and fuzzy lashes. Her trembling hands continued to explore the face she'd forgotten, running slender fingers through her wild hair, the short locks whipping against her cheeks as they danced in the wind.
She was human.
Or was this just another dream? Ahandra rubbed her eyes dry as she looked around for any clues as to how she ended up here. The last thing she remembered was pain. A terrible fire eating her from the inside out. And Auran's voice…
Her throat tightened and fresh tears sprang into the corners of her eyes. The anguish in his voice had been unbearable. She'd never seen him so vulnerable and desperate. But the pain had kept her from answering. And then everything had gone dark.
Behind her lay groves of strange palm trees with willow-like branches that grew in clusters. Beyond that rose high mountains encased in verdant forests that echoed with birdsong and the whistling clicks of insects. Without her infrared vision, she did not trust the dark woods and Ahandra turned back to the ocean, sliding down the soft dune and jogging through the rolling hills until she reached the flat beach, the damp sand cool against the soles of her feet.
She lingered over the green grass and admired the blue and purple shells revealed by the bubbling waves. Ahandra missed this, the mesmerizing textures and shades reflected in visible light.
"Eee!" She jumped as an orange crustacean popped up out of the sand and skittered around her toes, shivers prickling her arms as she watched it scurry away. She quickly dropped them to her sides, feeling slightly sheepish, glad no one had been able to see her squeak in terror at something as silly as an alien crab. Her army buddies would've given her hell. Auran probably would've found it cute though. She sighed and wondered what sort of dream this was as she turned to walk down the lonely stretch of sand.
Ahandra froze as soon as she noticed the yautja.
Motionless, he stared at her from his perch, a gray rock jutting from beneath the edge of the dune line. His red robes and charms marked him a priest, but he carried a spear. It lay across his thighs, gleaming in the light of Feiren.
His eyes squinted and he let out a several chuffling clicks.
Ahandra's brows pulled together in confusion. Was he laughing?
"Watch out for the sand crabs. They have stingers."
She must have been gaping like a fish because he chuckled again. As his laughter faded his expression grew serious. His yellow eyes bored into hers and Ahandra had to brace herself to keep from glancing away like she'd been taught.
He grunted. "So this is the legendary starborn."
Ahandra sucked in a sharp breath. She was the starborn?
"I suspected the One would choose someone unconventional, but I did not expect you would be so… alien. Or female." He rested his chin on his fist. "You seem surprised?"
"I… Ha, I just… You can speak English?"
"Prefiere usted Español?"
Ahandra smiled and shook her head. Show off. "No, this language is fine, um…" She placed her hands on her hips and took a deep breath. "Okay, look, here's the deal. Who are you, where am I and how did I get here? And I thought Auran was the starborn. Asharah and Gaidulus were sure he was the one who would save Kuuroch."
A deep rumble rolled through him. "I've yet to meet anyone who was able to understand a prophecy beforehand."
"But you do?"
"Yes. And no." He gracefully rose to his feet and leapt to the ground, landing with a soft thud. He towered over her, his long, black tendrils swaying in the wind. "Walk with me and I will explain everything." He hoisted his spear over his shoulder and removed the outer layer of his red robes, offering them to her to wear.
Ahandra hesitated, glancing between the priest and the red cloth in his hand. "Thank you." She wrapped the smooth fabric around shoulders, the ends fluttering about her legs in the constant wind that streamed across the beach.
Once they'd settled into their strides, he began. "You asked three questions. Allow me to ask three in return. These will be important, particularly the last, so pay close attention." He kept his gait slow, allowing her to walk beside him at a comfortably brisk pace.
"My name is Achande. The descendants of my followers know me as Ashann, the Prophet of the One." He growled and gave her a hard look when she tried to interrupt. "All of your questions will be answered."
She mumbled an apology and kept her head down. She must be dreaming, she decided. But this vision was strange. It was so peaceful compared to the nightmares that had come before.
"Although you may have seen my story carved into the walls of Kuuroch, I will tell it the way it used to be told, before time mythologized it." Achande's growl seemed to drown out the roar of the waves and Ahandra swore the sky darkened for a moment. "A long time ago, there was a young warrior destined to become one of the greatest warlords in a thousand years. There was nothing he could not kill, no female he could not make his. With each passing day his skill and pride grew, caring little for those he offended or abused. One day, he learned of a warrior within his territory that some of his enemies claimed was better than he. When the warrior learned that they spoke of a clanless rogue that scurried in the darkness and defended the weak and slaves from those that were stronger, he scoffed and paid the rumors no mind because surely such a yautja was insane. But with each warrior the rogue sent fleeing or killed, the more it irritated him. Some began to whisper that the rogue had hunted the same beasts as the young warrior using great cunning and skill. Finally, his pride could no longer bear such insult. He issued a challenge to the rogue. The coward had one day to meet him in the dual square, where all manner of disagreements were settled when the arbiters considered the matter to be beneath their review. Za'erane, his concubine and favorite companion, begged him not to fight. He slapped her, angry that she would dare suggest he back down after issuing a challenge. He would look foolish and cowardly. And he was neither."
Achande stopped, his eyes distant. "Much to his pleasure, the rogue appeared at the last moment, stepping forward from amongst the crowd like a disembodied shadow. The warrior scoffed at his ragged armor and short stature. He decided to finish the miserable wretch in one swift blow and silence those who would dare mock his rightfully earned prowess forever." His yellow irises glowed with an inner light and his voice dropped to a whisper. "But it was not so."
Cold waves licked Ahandra's ankles, washing over her feet and burying her toes into the wet sand. She said nothing, entranced by the tale. Here was the story she'd seen the carved into the walls of the bedroom during her sha'oul and in her dreams. The story she'd pestered others in the Midnight Blossom about incessantly. The story of Ashann the Prophet and Sa'arezan the Cursed.
"The dark rogue was swift and lithe. He did not fight with the visceral ferocity of a hunter, but with an unexpected discipline and grace that unbalanced the warrior. The rogue dodged his every swing, redirected each of his strikes, as if he knew exactly when and where the warrior would try to strike. With each failed attempt to end his foe's life, the warrior grew more and more angry. Blind with rage, he over swung. The nimble rogue ducked and lunged, sinking his long knife into his chest. The taunting crowd was silenced and disbelief filled the warrior as his blood poured onto the stone. His enemy let go of the knife, took a step back and pulled off his mask…"
"And it was Za'erane, wasn't it?"
Achande looked across the ocean and gazed up at Sa'arezan, her crescent silhouette fading away as the morning light grew stronger. "Yes. I was too shocked to say anything. In my selfish heart I could not understand why she'd betrayed me. I had cared for her since we were children and no matter how many females came to my bed I always returned to her arms. She was my confidant, my center. But my affection was a simple thing. I always saw her as a female and a slave. I could not fathom that she would use her ability to quickly absorb information to pick up on my martial skill. Nor could I understand her hunger for justice, to protect those who could not protect themselves. Such a concept is foreign to yautja. The only mercy in life is death."
"What happened to her? In the carvings she—"
"Kills herself." The light in his eyes died. "But not because she cared about me, although in some ways she did. She took her life as an honorable warrior, so that none could claim her skull. I, on the other hand, was left to die. I had been beaten by a female slave. My skull was worth nothing."
"How did you survive?"
He rumbled. "By a Will greater than my own. I woke up in an old hermit's hut. He'd dragged me there. Said he'd been expecting me. And that's how my journey as a prophet began." He began to walk again and Ahandra stumbled to keep up as she pulled her feet from the heavy, sucking sand. "He was the one who wrote the prophecies. Old Grey Eyes." He chuffed. "He was blind too."
"There are more prophecies?"
He ignored her question. "But that story is even longer and time is short." He hoisted his spear over his other shoulder and gestured at the pink beach and grand mountains. "What you see is the southern edge of the territory of Kuuroch. We are here. And we are not."
"Why?"
Achande turned and looked her into eyes. "Because you are dead."
Ahandra froze. "What?" She took several deep breaths, tugging the red cloth tight around her shoulders. She'd been bitten. Auran had been holding her. And Harsan had been there. She remembered them arguing.
Auran, the xashi's venom has tainted her blood. She'll change. She'll kill you and Seinu!
Yak'sallah, I can save her! There has to be a cure!
It doesn't exist. You must kill her!
A hand covered her mouth, as she tried to hold back her sobs. Oh my God. I didn't dream that. She took a step back. No.
"Ahandra…"
"No!" She flung the red robes into the sand and strode away, Achande's sharp bark stopping her. Ahandra's chest heaved with ragged sobs and she furiously wiped away tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. She refused to look at him. "What do you want?"
"I've answered your three questions. Now you will answer mine."
She wished she could growl. "Why does that matter? You couldn't have told me I was dead first?"
"You didn't ask that first." He cut her off. "If you want to know why you are here, in between worlds, you will answer the questions."
In between worlds? Ahandra wiped away her tears and crossed her arms. "Fine."
"When you looked into Natharrak's mind, what did you see?"
"Chaos. Death."
"Be specific." Achande rumbled.
Ahandra sighed and closed her eyes, hugging herself as she delved into the tainted memories. The one with his family being killed was always the strongest. Then there was his obsession with his experiments, the cries of the rats and children he'd used unbearable. The sick bastard had justified his actions by believing everyone was going to die when he destroyed the city, so it hadn't mattered. His sick pleasure at Auran killing Iyeiden. The deal with the Hish. Someone named Raienthril…
Her eyes snapped open. "He had a back-up plan." She turned around. "How did you know I would remember that?"
"There are rules I cannot break, one of which is telling you what you must do."
"Why not?"
"I know it is hard to understand, but there is a point to all of this. You will know it shortly."
Ahandra picked up the cloak, dusting the sand off of it and handing it back to him. "I'm sorry. When you find out you're dead it's…"
He gently pushed it back towards her. "Surprising."
"You could say that, yeah." She was still reeling from the news. Ahandra hugged the slightly damp fabric against her body, the warm sun now beating down on them. Iren was beginning to peak over the horizon.
When she felt ready, they began to walk again, discussing what she'd seen inside Natharrak's mind. "He betrayed the Shan. And everyone else. But the way Natharrak used him… I feel sorry for him. His free will was taken away. Couldn't Raienthril stop the bombs now that Natharrak is dead?"
"Raienthril's mind has been under the influence of Natharrak's machine for so long, I fear the lost connection will drive him insane," said Achande. "Now for my second question: What happened to you when you were transformed by the serpents in your dreams?"
"What does that have to do with…"Ahandra sighed again when he clenched his mandibles and raised an eyebrow. "I know, I know. I have to wait for the last question."
He nodded.
"Okay, well, sometimes I'm bitten. Sometimes I'm already changed. But I always hear voices. Sort of. It's hard to explain." Her brow furrowed as she tried to recall the sensation. "It's like… an instinctive understanding or a sixth sense. And I was more than myself, if that makes sense? I was filled with this incredible hunger. All of us. The serpents I mean." She huffed. "I wish I'd learned more about the them. The elders called them demons when I would listen in on the stories they would tell the children."
Achande kept silent.
He's saving his last question, Ahandra surmised. They walked in silence as she tried to remember anything important she'd overheard about the crusades. "The city-states take turns waging war on the serpents. When they purge a world, it takes a long time because you have to make sure you've killed every single one or they'll turn into a Queen and just create more."
He looked down her with an expectant look in his eyes, as if she'd just said the magic words. "What?"
"I think that's close enough." He stopped and laid a hand on her shoulder to stop her as well.
She took a startled step back when she turned to look down the beach, the way blocked by a massive silver-framed archway that hadn't been there a moment ago. Flowing white light slipped between the crevices, dissipating into sparkling mist as the wind carried it away. The crystalline structure absorbed the suns' light and refracting it into shimmering rainbows, creating ethereal shapes that shifted and danced.
"I believe the term 'mesmerizing' is appropriate. I think that is one of my favorite words in this tongue."
"Uh-huh." She could only gape at the beautiful structure, completely overwhelmed by the soaring architecture and intricate craftsmanship.
A clawed fingertip turned her face until she was staring up at Achande. "You are being given a very precious and dangerous choice, Alejandra 'Tyler' Vasquez."
Her eyes widened. He'd used her full name. Damn.
He let go of her chin and stabbed the bottom of his long spear into the pink sand. "Will you pass into the embrace of the One… or return to your body and save Kuuroch?"
Ahandra's breath caught. "You mean, I can go back?"
Achande growled and she realized his skin was beginning to glow with same pale light as the portal. "Yes. But at a price. Once you return, the venom in your body will reactivate and the transformation will begin again."
Her enthusiasm was instantly quelled. "But if I become a xashi what's the point of going back?"
"You have already undergone a complete metamorphosis once before. This has created a unique elasticity within your DNA." He was now glowing, his sharp eyes molten gold. Ahandra suddenly realized she'd seen him once before.
"You were the one who saved me from Natharrak when he tried to kill me."
"It was necessary to intervene."
"Thank you, but even if I transform into a xashi, how will I control them like in my dream? The only thing that could control them is a…" And then the answer hit her. It was all suddenly so obvious. "A Queen."
"Now you understand." Achande's voice rose like distant thunder.
She nodded, becoming slightly pale. So much could go wrong. It could even make things worse.
Achande's hand gently shook her shoulder. "You must choose. Time grows short."
Ahandra took a deep breath. She'd done this before. She could do it again. Even if she didn't make it, Auran, Seinu and everyone else would be safe. Oh God, I hope you know what you're doing. "I'm ready to go back."
"You will only have a brief window of time to control the process. After that, the transformation is permanent."
She flinched as the portal shattered and a thunderous wind roared down from the mountains. Achande withdrew his hand. "Be strong, starborn."