TemnalAKissOfMoonlightAmpRazors"Death is better than annihilation." The words sank into Temnal's ears like hot tar, filling his mind with dread and his muscles with ice. He ran aimlessly through soot-stained rooms, rank with sulfur. An inexhaustible engine of flesh and cold-metal pursued him, cutting its way through the choking darkness like a blade. Its hoofbeats echoed through the empty labyrinth, drawing closer, closer. The young Duk'zarist could feel its fetid breath on his neck, burning his lungs and blistering his flesh. And with every step, his body betrayed him, weakening while the creature behind him grew stronger. And yet he ran. Corridor after corridor, room after room, each revealing new horrors of fetid blood and shattered bones. Temnal's bare feet were now torn to ribbons by the broken bodies of those who came before him, splinters digging deeper into his heels, the pain exquisite. But better this pain than to face what roared its displeasure in the dark. It called to him again; a child's voice, so innocent and tender. How such a thing could articulate words when bereft of a human tongue, Temnal did not know. And were it not for the speaker, he might have believed it. He might have paused to listen and consider the depth of these words. But the grisly evidence around him revealed the folly of such a choice. Near the end of his strength, he stumbled wildly into a featureless room, its walls so clean and pure they glowed in the stygian gloom. At its center stood a woman of flawless beauty, raven hair and milky skin. She smiled to him, beckoning with open arms. Blinded by pain and fear, he could not resist this sanctuary, this kindness so freely given. "Come to me, Temnal," she whispered, her dark lips unmoving. "I shall give you peace. Lay your head upon my breast and you shall know comfort. No pain. No fear." Behind him the Blind Bull entered the room, filling its purity with corruption and death. Temnal did not look upon it. Could not even if he'd wished. All he knew was the woman's motherly smile. The warmth of her touch upon his face, drawing his bloodied head to her pale bosom, stroking his white hair with such tenderness, such love. "Death is better than annihilation," the Blind Bull repeated. "But it is Annihilation that you have found," Achlys whispered in his ear before swallowing Temnal in her embrace. The nightmare clung to Temnal's heart as he bolted upright in bed, Achlys's tender voice still ringing in his ears. Sweat-soaked sheets wrapped themselves around his frame, binding him, trapping him. And then he noticed the pale woman sitting in his window, legs held to her chest, outlined by moonlight. Black wings curled around her body like a cape. For a moment, he thought the nightmare had pursued him into reality. But then he noticed the scarlet hair and concerned smile. Sekhmet, his adoptive sister, and closest friend. "Bad dreams again?" Temnal's wire-taut body relaxed, though he did not lie down again, but drew his knees up and let his head rest on folded arms. He let out a long, shuddering breath. "Again," he echoed softly. "For a while I thought... But the Bull pursues me even here." He looked back up at Sekhmet, golden eyes meeting hers. "And I'm not sure if the dreams come from the darkness in my own soul, or from... elsewhere." Sekhmet smiled faintly, "Perhaps both, brother." Her leathery wings rustled and retreated beneath her pale skin. Strategically-located golden scales provided her some sense of decency as she hopped down from her perch. She'd been flying again, against their father's explicit orders otherwise; 'Such things were not for royal ladies.' Yet, Temnal knew her unrestrained love for riding the thermals over the Ways' molten fields. Many nights, she would land at his window, as if she were one of the Spire-top dragons that populated the region. He could sympathize with the yearning for freedom that her flights expressed, and never spoke of them to anyone else. She sat at the end of his bed, her silvery eyes flickering with a crocodilian glow. "I can make you another sleeping tonic, if you'd like. The skullcap is blooming right now, so it would be no trouble." Temnal shook his head reluctantly. "I could brew a draught myself, if I wanted to," he pointed out. "But I don't want to become dependent -- it's all too easy to do that -- and anyway, it does nothing to address the source of the dreams, whether they come from within or without. Until I know that..." He paused, then spoke in a lower voice. "Besides...what if the Lady were to speak again, and I unable to hear?" Sekhmet touched his cheek with a tender smile, "Ah, my sweet little priest. You give your heart so freely to the esoteric. And while I respect your devotion to her, I do question your wisdom sometimes. There are whispers best left unheard, Temnal. You, above all others, should know that." "I do," he agreed. "And if there were a way to block out them and them only, I'd surely take it. But I don't know of any, do you? Any more than there is a way to let one's physical ears hear only music. I suspect the best wisdom can do is learn to distinguish one from the other." Sekhmet smiled faintly, "Just remember, brother, that some dreams are merely reflections of our inner self. Nothing more." "True enough," he replied, "but even those can teach us something. Is not all existence connected, the inner to the outer?" She stroked his cheek and chuckled mirthlessly. "A fine thing for me to say, is it not?" Sekhmet had been destined for service in the Church since birth; a Hellmaiden to the Serpent. Devout in her beliefs, she would surely ascend to the status of High Priestess in a matter of years. "Rather." Temnal cocked his head at her. "Does the Serpent ever send you dreams?" His sister nodded, "Of course. He has called me into the realm of Limbo on many nights. Usually, he wears the shape of a man. White skin and hair as black as obsidian. And his eyes. Oh his eyes, Temnal. I could fall into them and be undone." "Don't fall yet, little sister," he admonished her gently. "We still need you." She chuckled, blushing. "Some nights he comes to me as a lover. Others he is like a terrible storm. But always, he is my mentor. My Prince. And with every visit, he strips away another layer of this veiled world." She tilted her head, eyes glowing with interest. "Is your goddess the same for you?" Temnal shook his head. "Nothing so regular. It is my Lady's nature to be elusive, to speak the language of symbol... to point the way, but leave it up to the seeker to follow...or not. She will not ravish, or even woo. She simply says, 'I exist, the fair, the pure, the true. Find me if you can.' Yet she lit my path out of the labyrinth to...here." Sekhmet smiled gently, "Then I owe her much for she blessed me with a brother I do not feel compelled to dispose of." "And me with a sister who does not feel compelled to dispose of me," he returned softly. The smile faltered, sadness shimmering in her reptilian eyes. Not one for experiencing—let alone displaying—human emotions, such a slip betrayed the true depth of her feelings. "And now she takes you away from me. Do you think your new path will ever lead back to Chaos?" "I don't know, but I have more than one reason to return, if I can," he pointed out. "In any case, I promised Gaynor I would keep in touch." Sekhmet managed a smile. "I'm certain father wishes to hear of your experiences in the True City. As do I. If you don't send at least monthly missives, I will be most perturbed." Her smile widened playfully. "I'll do my best," promised Temnal, "though I'm told that time passes differently in Amber than it does here. So I don't know how frequently my letters will arrive here if I write monthly ones there. You'll have to let me know." She stood up and crossed to the window. "Perhaps I should go with you to the new world. Let us face the truth. All that awaits me here is marriage. And certainly not by choice." His golden eyes sparked. "They should not try to force you," he stated. Then, more softly, "I would love it if you could come." Sekhmet met his gaze, offering a rueful smile. "As pleasant a dream as that may be, brother, I believe our father has already arranged a good price for my maidenhead with House Swayvill. Prince Taen-Shol, if my little birds tell me true. The new blood of an old house. I could have been given a worse match, I suppose." She played with her bracelet, staring out at her dark skies with wistfulness. "You have met him? He will not mistreat you?" Temnal asked, his pale brows drawing together in a frown. "Met him?" Sekhmet said. "Not as such. But I have heard of him from my associates. He possesses very modern views on women and their role in House affairs. I doubt he will force me to hang up my sword, as Father wishes me to. Once I bear the House a legitimate heir, of course." She hugged herself and scowled. "I wished to be married to the Serpent. To be his Hand and cull those unworthy of the Whole. But sometimes our paths do not match our desires." "Very often," Temnal agreed. "Yet I think our father should heed the will of the Serpent in this." "Father will heed the call to glory," Sekhmet said, perhaps with too much emotion. She blushed and turned away. "Forgive me, Temnal. Here you are leaving this world and I spend my last moments with you complaining of personal woes. I apologize for being selfish. I should be happy for you right now." She walked over and kissed his cheek, "You've always been so good to me." "How could I not," responded Temnal, "when you and your kin have done so much for me? Taken me in, given me a home and a family... It is hard to leave," he confessed, "no matter how enticing it sounds to have another new world to explore." Sekhmet sauntered back to the open window. "Well, if you'd rather stay, I could always fleshcraft you to look like me. Then Father could marry you off and you'd get your wish. I hear House Swayvill's private library is the pride of the Courts. You'd love it. "And then I can go to Amber in your place. It wouldn't be the first time I impersonated a man, after all. I might have to change the hair though. White is not my color." She smirked, half-joking. "I can't imagine no one would detect such a substitution eventually," Temnal pointed out with a wry smile. "At which point both of us -- and our House -- would be in very deep trouble. Besides," he added more seriously, "I would still be separated from you and the rest of the friends I've found here. That's what I'll miss most." Sekhmet smirked. "Flatterer. But you're right. You'd make a dreadful woman." She began stretching her limbs, likely preparing for a shift. "Well, brother, I wish to catch one last flight before my handmaiden comes undone with worry. I hope you'll spend the day hunting with me tomorrow? I want to steal every last moment you have here in Chaos. I'm sure your friends will wish the same." "Of course I'll come with you." Temnal was not nearly as enamored of blood sports as his foster sister, but the creatures they hunted were normally ones the universe was well rid of, and hunting did help him to keep his marksmanship skills sharp. Best of all, it was something they could do together. Sekhmet grinned broadly. "In the morning then. Bright and early," she said. "The huntsman told me that a bull behir has been spotted basking in the hot springs near the Hestia Rift. He'd make for the perfect farewell trophy, I think." Her eyes flickered with glee. "Remember. No metal armor." Temnal nodded. "And no poisoned bolts, right." She climbed up onto the windowsill. "Bright and early, brother." And with that, she plunged into the void beyond. |
