Post by Essien on Apr 5, 2009 15:59:59 GMT -5
The wasteland grit mounted to touch the moon in fantastic, corpse-grey drfits that seemed to hail from another world. Each breath of wind teased their tops into ribbons of dust that curled out until the fine granules were swallowed by the darkness between the stars. Without sun or cloud, the landscape lay bare to the fierce chill of the void.
Astride his saurian mount, Essien Semedi watched the dunes losing themselves in the wind. There was something appealing in that oblivion, the coarse earth refined to nothing but shadow. It was cold and clean, and he could pretend that it was final; but of course the dust would always settle again, clot and congeal and drag itself back down somewhere to the mire that had birthed it. The world was always thus.
Essien blew out a breath that frosted the air in front of him. He surveyed the moonlit waste.
Why would the god of his fathers plague him with visions of this place? What could this nothingness offer him? And why had he come, the future Lord Semedi, haughty and self-possessed? Why bundle himself in furs, and mount a cold one from his family's pen, and trek the wilds far north of Naggaroth, chasing the fragile skirts of a dream?
Even as he asked himself the question, Essien felt its answer like a fingertip brushed along the nape of his neck. The Dark Prince held out, always, the promise of more. He seemed to whisper, This is just a taste. Everything you've felt and done is nothing compared to what I have yet to show you. Follow me, just a little further. There around the corner, over the hill, there in that pocket of night, such things....
The young Lord Semedi fought off a tremble of anticipation. His beast shifted on its talons; its scaled flanks shuddered beneath his calves and it let loose a rattling hoot that echoed over the dunes. It was hungry and restive, and Essien knew that if he did not soon wheel about and start for home, the carnivore would turn on him as the only flesh to be had. He cursed himself quietly and tugged sidways on the reins.
And then he saw it, away over the dead sand-- a flash of purest white, like a cloth woven of moonlight. Essien spurred the cold one towards it.
It was a unicorn-- or rather the corpse of a unicorn, for it lay sprawled on its side and a swath of rust-brown stained the sand beneath its bearded throat. Somehow, unaccountably, this pure thing had come to the very end of the earth to die. Still more wondrous was the creature stretched in the shadow of its haunch: a human girl, naked and half-buried in dust. Her hair was plastered in blood on her cheek, and her lips were cracked and full. The side of her breast rose and fell.
Lord Semedi swung down from his saddle, shouldered a water flask that hung there, and crunched over to the place where maid and unicorn lay in their travesty of innocence. He crouched and cupped the girl's cheek in his palm, lifted her face from the grit. With his thumb, Essien traced her tortured lip, then opened her mouth and pushed inside; he could scarcely feel her through his gauntlet's weave, but her tongue shone moist in the moonlight. She stirred and cracked one eye, and he found that it was fashioned of molten gold.
Although he showed no sign of it, Essien marveled. A human girl, alone in the wide nothing that bordered what passed for civilization among the Druchii. How long had she walked? She must have crossed the roof of the world, only to stumble and fall here, within two days' ride of the Watch Towers.
"Please." It was the girl, whispering. Her hazy eye had fallen on the flask. She sealed her lips around his thumb and suckled it with the half-conscious distraction of her plight, as if it were the flask's mouth.
The human had almost made it to Naggaroth. On foot. Essien frowned.
He let her head drop back in the dust, stood, and took six deliberate steps away from her. Turning, he unstoppered the leather bag and held it by his side. "Come here," he told the girl, in that cruel, cold language of his people that sounded like blade on blade. "Come here if you will drink."
She watched him through the weave of her hair, uncomprehending. Essien turned down the flask and let a bright cascade of water spatter the toe of his greave.
"Come here," he said again, each word heavy as an iron ingot. "To my heel."
At first she didn't move, and Essien wondered if the human girl might simply die staring at the succor she craved. Then, with a tremendous effort for so small a gesture, she squirmed across the sand. Drawing one leg under herself, she braced her arms and struggled to hands and knees; her bare back caught the light in its crescent and her hair hung over her face. Slowly she began to crawl.
If the leagues of her journey had been a torture to her, the last six feet must have been doubly so. The girl dragged herself to him with small, sinuous and desperate movements, head low, leaving a track in the dust behind her as a serpent might. And when she had reached him, she stretched her naked body before him and put her cheek on his steel toe, and her tongue curled out to lap the water that beaded there.
Essien bent down and brushed the hair from her brow, While she drank, the Lord of House Semedi arranged those matted tangles on the girl's neck with an incongruous delicacy. There would be more water for her, and food when she could stomach it. He would let his mount feed on the unicorn's corpse, and then he would take her back to Karond Kar.
She belonged to him now. For both of them, the god had provided.
Astride his saurian mount, Essien Semedi watched the dunes losing themselves in the wind. There was something appealing in that oblivion, the coarse earth refined to nothing but shadow. It was cold and clean, and he could pretend that it was final; but of course the dust would always settle again, clot and congeal and drag itself back down somewhere to the mire that had birthed it. The world was always thus.
Essien blew out a breath that frosted the air in front of him. He surveyed the moonlit waste.
Why would the god of his fathers plague him with visions of this place? What could this nothingness offer him? And why had he come, the future Lord Semedi, haughty and self-possessed? Why bundle himself in furs, and mount a cold one from his family's pen, and trek the wilds far north of Naggaroth, chasing the fragile skirts of a dream?
Even as he asked himself the question, Essien felt its answer like a fingertip brushed along the nape of his neck. The Dark Prince held out, always, the promise of more. He seemed to whisper, This is just a taste. Everything you've felt and done is nothing compared to what I have yet to show you. Follow me, just a little further. There around the corner, over the hill, there in that pocket of night, such things....
The young Lord Semedi fought off a tremble of anticipation. His beast shifted on its talons; its scaled flanks shuddered beneath his calves and it let loose a rattling hoot that echoed over the dunes. It was hungry and restive, and Essien knew that if he did not soon wheel about and start for home, the carnivore would turn on him as the only flesh to be had. He cursed himself quietly and tugged sidways on the reins.
And then he saw it, away over the dead sand-- a flash of purest white, like a cloth woven of moonlight. Essien spurred the cold one towards it.
It was a unicorn-- or rather the corpse of a unicorn, for it lay sprawled on its side and a swath of rust-brown stained the sand beneath its bearded throat. Somehow, unaccountably, this pure thing had come to the very end of the earth to die. Still more wondrous was the creature stretched in the shadow of its haunch: a human girl, naked and half-buried in dust. Her hair was plastered in blood on her cheek, and her lips were cracked and full. The side of her breast rose and fell.
Lord Semedi swung down from his saddle, shouldered a water flask that hung there, and crunched over to the place where maid and unicorn lay in their travesty of innocence. He crouched and cupped the girl's cheek in his palm, lifted her face from the grit. With his thumb, Essien traced her tortured lip, then opened her mouth and pushed inside; he could scarcely feel her through his gauntlet's weave, but her tongue shone moist in the moonlight. She stirred and cracked one eye, and he found that it was fashioned of molten gold.
Although he showed no sign of it, Essien marveled. A human girl, alone in the wide nothing that bordered what passed for civilization among the Druchii. How long had she walked? She must have crossed the roof of the world, only to stumble and fall here, within two days' ride of the Watch Towers.
"Please." It was the girl, whispering. Her hazy eye had fallen on the flask. She sealed her lips around his thumb and suckled it with the half-conscious distraction of her plight, as if it were the flask's mouth.
The human had almost made it to Naggaroth. On foot. Essien frowned.
He let her head drop back in the dust, stood, and took six deliberate steps away from her. Turning, he unstoppered the leather bag and held it by his side. "Come here," he told the girl, in that cruel, cold language of his people that sounded like blade on blade. "Come here if you will drink."
She watched him through the weave of her hair, uncomprehending. Essien turned down the flask and let a bright cascade of water spatter the toe of his greave.
"Come here," he said again, each word heavy as an iron ingot. "To my heel."
At first she didn't move, and Essien wondered if the human girl might simply die staring at the succor she craved. Then, with a tremendous effort for so small a gesture, she squirmed across the sand. Drawing one leg under herself, she braced her arms and struggled to hands and knees; her bare back caught the light in its crescent and her hair hung over her face. Slowly she began to crawl.
If the leagues of her journey had been a torture to her, the last six feet must have been doubly so. The girl dragged herself to him with small, sinuous and desperate movements, head low, leaving a track in the dust behind her as a serpent might. And when she had reached him, she stretched her naked body before him and put her cheek on his steel toe, and her tongue curled out to lap the water that beaded there.
Essien bent down and brushed the hair from her brow, While she drank, the Lord of House Semedi arranged those matted tangles on the girl's neck with an incongruous delicacy. There would be more water for her, and food when she could stomach it. He would let his mount feed on the unicorn's corpse, and then he would take her back to Karond Kar.
She belonged to him now. For both of them, the god had provided.