Aaruden's army marched across the sand-ice. The ormuffs began to shiver, as did their riders—it was getting cold, colder than it had been for the Mitarians at the mountain peak. They were headed for Talya, and the remaining soldiers felt the depression of defeat settle over them.
Finally, they arrived. Litam had expected to see a stunning palace like King Nikros', but instead he was greeted with a thatched-roof village, reminiscent of Skenleth's. The only exception was a wall around the town, made of the same sort of stone that was so common in the buildings of Mitaria. Litam felt strangely at home within its boundaries.
In the centre of the town was a hut, larger than the rest and guarded. Litam expected they would enter it, but instead the general took them off to a side road. The soldiers continued in a different direction, presumably toward their barracks.
Along the dusty path, the huts got smaller and dirtier, and Litam wondered where they were being taken. He asked.
To Her Majesty,
Aaruden replied simply.
At the end of the dirt path sat the plainest hut so far. The general entered its door and motioned to the travellers to follow. As Litam walked through the entrance, the air shifted around him and was warm again, quite a contrast from the chill without.
He looked around. Somehow, this room was larger than the hut had appeared from the outside. Its walls were a menagerie of colours, changing and flowing in beautiful patterns. They curved toward the top of the room, meeting to form a dome. Light from unknown sources bathed everything, perhaps coming from the air itself, and the scent of a good meal filled the air.
A number of beasts drifted around. Some were curled up on mounds of cushions, and some chatted with each other. One played a sombre tune on some sort of string instrument to an audience of hares. The ambience made Litam's fear drain away, to be replaced with a calmness he had not felt since he had left Subito.
General Aaruden tapped a nearby beast on the shoulder. Wer iźes der plurelé wé?
he said quietly. The beast replied, too softly for Litam to hear. The general nodded and turned to the travellers.
I must speak to the empress in private, to inform her of your presence,
he said, before slipping through a wall. Litam, suddenly feeling very tired, fell over into a giant chair and was almost swallowed up by it. He yawned, closed his eyes, and was immediately asleep.
He was instantly aware of a presence, and he snapped his eyes open. He didn't hear it, or see it, or smell it. He looked around at his surroundings. He was in a forest, and a lake was visible off in the distance. It was serene, perfect. He would have felt at home here, if it were not for the feeling of being watched. He listened closely for footsteps, breathing, anything. But all he heard was the chirping of birds above.
It was there, suddenly and without warning. The silhouette shot down toward him, wings outspread.
He looked up at it, eyes wide with fear, and saw a griffin falling through the air, headed for him. It was Fiyas, the one they had ridden to escape from King Nikros, the one who had been killed by the Mskltn.
His piercing gaze, his stocky body… this was definitely Fiyas. But he had changed. Both fur and feather were a shiny iridescent white, and his eyes looked as if they had no life in them. They stared down at him, cold and soulless.
Litam looked up at the wilde's feet. His leonine claws were slowly extending. He cawed loudly, a battle cry it seemed.
The mouse, miniscule compared to this magical wilde beast, stood motionless as the griffin closed in on him, and his eyes squeezed shut at the last moment.
He was roused from his sleep by Koshos, shaking his shoulder to wake him. Litam, she is ready to see us,
she said quietly.
The mouse blinked away his confusion. He was in Talya, here to meet with Selassei, who may or may not have been the one in the legends. He got up and dusted himself off.
Briole still looked gloomy, and Skenleth looked to be off in a world of his own.
Skenleth? Are you in there?
Litam asked, waving his paw in front of the fox, who blinked hard and again became aware of his surroundings. He and the others were led across the room to the opposite wall.
How big is this hut?
Litam asked himself, amazed. The guide, in pidgin-Mitarian, told them to walk through the wall.
So Skenleth did. He walked right into it without a care and immediately disappeared from view. Litam was half-surprised and half-unimpressed; it caught him off his guard, but he knew it was a simple spell. Koshos, head high, followed, as did Briole, staring at his feet the entire time. Litam took a deep breath and moved forward.
Without any pause at all, he was standing in a much smaller room, with real, tangible stone walls. He turned around and saw that they continued behind him, and it appeared that he had just walked through the room's round wooden door.
A hearth was embedded in one of the walls, a warm fire burning inside it, while a low, round pine table occupied the centre of the room. A tall, lithe white beast in white robes and hood (apparently woven, unlike the clothes of the other beasts here) and a pair of white sandals sat by it, face buried in a scroll. She looked up at a small round window to a starry night sky, then back to her reading.
The guide coughed. The beast looked up at the group, and Litam was shocked.
Her features were strange, almost as if she wasn't truly a beast. Her eyes were a pure, deep blue and her nose was the same colour as her fur: white as the freshest snow, without a single spot or stripe.
The hair on her head, exposed when she looked up, was a pure black. And her mouth was flat against her face. No muzzle at all.
Thank you, Khaohlel. Please, excuse us,
she said, looking at the guide. He nodded and retreated out of the room. Litam turned his head to watch. Instead of a beast walking through what looked to be a solid wall, Litam saw him open a wooden door, pass through it, and close it behind him.
Please, sit down. You must be weary! Would you like some tea, or lostberry wine? Perhaps something to eat? Anything you want, I'm sure I can get for you.
The beast offered, brow furrowing as she did her best to make the beasts feel at home.
They took her up on her offer, and as she poured the tea and another beast brought in a loaf of blackseed bread with a block of fresh cheese, she spoke.
I wish you hadn't needed to see this, little ones. We've become complacent, and it weakens Tsesanne tremendously.
That bothered Litam. Briole must have been a whole head taller than her; little ones, indeed! He finished with his cheese (good cheese, not a cheese to be rushed through) and then, after a slow swallow, he asked: So, when do we see Selassei?
She smiled indulgently, sipping her tea. You already have.
No, I mean the real Selassei. You may claim to be her, but I don't believe it.
Oh, I'm sure you expected a vast throne room, with a tall floating beast wearing crown, cloak and sceptre. It's a common mistake,
she said softly, although I have appeared in such a form when the occasion has required it. Foreign dignitaries sometimes need a little extra persuasion.
I said I don't believe you,
Litam repeated. Koshos looked up at him, exasperated.
And I don't blame you for that, Litam of the family Witinh Hae. I hardly look like the Empress of Magics. But you'll just have to trust me.
Why should I?
he demanded of her, his beliefs conflicting with what she was telling him. You can't possibly be the one you claim to be, so why should I trust anything else you say?
As the mouse spoke, it seemed that the other beasts faded and that he and the empress were all that existed or mattered in the world. Indeed, his focus was locked on her as she replied, her words flowing as if she had been practicing them for years.
Because, despite how I appear to be an average beast, despite my youthful looks, I am older than the sun, the moon, the stars and the World. I was there to oversee the birth of the first king of Mitaria, Lord Dall-Mitar.
I was there when the senators of the First Great Republic signed their constitution, and I watched as the last of their successors fell to plague four centuries later. I have lived and guided the past. I am living and guiding the present. And I will live and guide the future.
Litam held fast his doubts. What about Shalyon? Where's he through all of this?
The little white beast's mouth curled upward in a smug grin. He is here, but he prefers to keep a low profile. Actually, I believe you've met him.
Her head tilted slightly. I can see you're hoping for more cheese. Help yourself.
I—
Litam began.
Yes, you still don't believe me. My little mouse… I've watched you grow all these years, and I wanted to help you through life, but I knew I could not interfere. I'm sorry we had to put you through that. We had to make sure you'd be in the right place at the right time, if you were to perform the task at hand.
Litam felt a rush of anger—how dare she suggest he was nothing more than a tool!—and forced himself to swallow it down again, to maintain some semblance of respect, closing his eyes and grimacing. Once it had passed, he opened his eyes again and stared coldly at the empress.
She got up and walked to the window, looking out at the stars. Litam, do you know any of the constellations?
Litam was caught off-guard by the question, but he recovered and answered immediately. I could name most of the ones you can see from my village. Subito's gone though, so why bother asking?
Snow flakes began to fall, piling slowly on the window sill, most melting from the heat of the fire inside the room.
My friend, Chedti… he made the sun, moon, and stars. He found Shalyon and I creating this world, and wanted to leave his mark. We gave him a great canvas, and he painted the most beautiful sky I'd ever seen.
Unfortunately, there was another who found our studio, Maceste, and he ruined Chedti's masterpiece. The Sky Scar is his mark, you know.
She pressed her finger against the window and traced the path of the Sky Scar. Litam scoffed—more stories he was expected to believe!—but the empress continued.
Chedti and Maceste went to settle their differences, deep beneath the World. Neither has claimed victory yet, and they remain locked in their skirmish. I do miss him.
The empress turned and looked at Litam. Chedti is the only one who can create the sun anew. The sky is his domain and neither Shalyon nor I know how he made it. We don't know of any way to heal the Sun Spirit's wounds apart from sacrificing ourselves to feed it. We would do so willingly, but it may not be necessary.
I knew why you were coming to see me, and I have known of the events taking place for quite some time. Litam, you are going to help me make the sun burn anew. You are going to help me to prevent Letimpra's rebirth, and by doing so, weaken Kveilaz tremendously.
Prove to me that you are really a goddess, and I—
I'm not a goddess, Litam. I never was. Shalyon is not a god, nor is Chedti. We are beasts, my little mouse, just like you or Koshos. We've just been around a lot longer.
She said it again,
Litam thought, My little m—
Suddenly and without warning, Litam was surrounded in all directions by blackness. He was floating. No one direction felt like up or down. Beside him was Selassei, floating too. Litam squeaked in fear and began thrashing about.
Calm down, Litam. You're quite safe. Probably more so than you were back in my study, since the Army of Darkness cannot reach this place,
she spoke softly, then waved a paw over him.
Her motion brought stillness inside of him, and he calmed.
You've heard about the Pretime. What once was, until Shalyon, Chedti and I created the World. This is the Endtime. It's what awaits our World if you decide not to help me.
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