Chapter 29: Dusk

The sun had vanished behind the mountains when Ghania finished her tale. It was silent, and in the twilight of dusk the lands looked peaceful again. Maybe even the dead on the battlefield felt at peace, at least until their souls arrived at the Underworld. For the day’s survivors it was no more than an armed truce, and for some of them there wasn’t any rest at all. The fighting continued within the seclusion of their minds. Another war fought on another battlefield.

“It was you; it’s all because of you!” Athea screamed. It was only a thought, but it was loud and made her world tumble.

When her vision cleared, she was standing at the little pond. The water looked as if it was burning, but it was just the reflection of a low standing sun on an orange sky.

“Well, if we take Ghania’s story at face value - and that’s a lot to take, especially because she’s obviously biased as a co-perpetrator - at first sight it may look like there might have been a few things that appear a bit self-serving.”

Athea recognized the voice and turned around to glare at Chaos. She still looked like the last time they had met at the pond, although the flowers in her hair were blue today and not pink anymore. She listened to me and followed my advice. The unbidden thought infuriated Athea even more.

“You couldn’t stand your brother falling in love with someone else, so you changed her into someone he couldn’t love, and started a war. You’re a monster!” Athea shouted.

“I was young and probably didn’t know any better.” She pouted. Her little girl voice sounded coy, her expression maybe even a bit guilty.

“Thousands died because of you, and they are still dying!” Athea screamed.

The little girl sniffed and wiped a tear from her eye but didn’t respond.

“My brother died because of you!” Athea screamed again.

The girl didn’t answer, just looked at her out of wide open, tear filled but innocent, pale-blue eyes. Athea was breathing heavily, but her fury was running out as she watched the little girl.

“Are you done shouting at me?” The girl asked after some moments had passed without more screaming.

Athea just nodded and watched as the little girl turned into a tall woman, with an impressive bust trying to escape her too tight black leather bustier.

“I can’t remember I looked like this,” Chaos said and shook her black mane of hair with its flaming red tresses, “but I like it.”

A wave of her hand and the pond, its shore, the setting sun and the orange sky was gone. Suddenly it was night and three moons traveled the sky. Their wan light dimly lit their surroundings and Athea found herself standing at the edge of an abyss of nothingness.

“Yes, it feels familiar,” Chaos mused, and then looked at Athea. “Now you listen to me. You can blame me for everything bad happening to you, or even for everything bad in this world, but it’s stupid, and you know it’s not true. I didn’t start this war; it started when the light of the first star awoke the peaceful slumbering darkness. The irony is that they love each other so much. So much that they crush everything standing between them. That’s where we are, standing between light and darkness, between birth and death, between the beginning and the end. You call it a war, I call it life.”

“You are too modest, Eyna. You don’t just stand between them waiting to be crushed; you’re leading them on a path you’ve chosen. You talk about light and darkness, but what about good and evil. Where does your path lead? Where does it leave those who stand in your way? Where did it leave Harmony?” Athea asked.

“I listened to the same story, and know as much about Harmony as you do. Ghania didn’t want her, my brother didn’t protect her and I changed her into someone more fun. Ghania shed a few tears, my brother grumbled a bit, and no one ever missed her. You want to talk about good and evil?” She asked and her blue eyes turned black. “Usually you’re satisfied squealing, ‘It wasn’t me, it was my evil twin, ‘ and then go to bed smelling of Lilies and Roses. So why are you asking now, do you want a promise? I promise I’ll be as evil as I need to be. You don’t have to worry. I’ll impale little children on burning stakes to get our brother back.”

Athea averted her gaze. For a little while she just watched the gaping emptiness in front of her, but then she spoke.

“That’s the role I’ve to play, the help you couldn’t find on Atyseos. I am your conscience, your guideline and boundary,” she said. Her gaze turned back to Chaos, and Athea’s chilling pale blue eyes pierced the goddess. “So you better do your job, or I’ll impale you on a burning stake and play your part as well.”

“Did you just threaten me?” The tall goddess asked straightening her posture, dwarfing Athea’s small frame.

“Yes,” Athea answered, calmly facing her opponent.

Chaos eyes turned glowing red. They stared at each other, red hot fury met by pale blue coldness. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Suddenly, too quickly to defend herself, Athea was lifted off her feet, fiercely embraced and her face smothered in Chaos’ bosom. She soon was fighting for breath, while kisses were raining down on the crown of her head.

“I love you more each day,” she heard Chaos announce.

“Yoahtchowkinmeah,” Athea pressed out.

“What?” Chaos asked, loosening the embrace.

“You’re choking me!” Athea repeated, red faced and breathless.

“Sorry, I’m not used to this body,” Chaos apologized.

“I can see how sorry you are. Stop grinning or I’ll have to believe you were trying to kill me,” Athea grumbled.

“I’d never try that, I’ll do it, if I’ve to,” Chaos said, not grinning anymore. “It’s time, Athea, I won’t hide any longer. Are you ready to do what has to be done?”

“I am,” Athea answered, desperately hoping it wasn’t a lie.

Four tall candleholders were placed at the corners of the small, windowless chamber. Their light fell on a large, massive stone bench, in the center of the room, and the young woman lying on it. Laid out on dark stone, her mane of even darker hair fanned out beneath her, her face looked pale and a thin white linen blanket covered her body. Rhabina laid out in a tomb, sleeping the sleep of the dead, was a sight Roban did not appreciate.

“It’s cold and uncomfortable sleeping on hard stone. She’ll be grumpy waking up,” Roban summarized his thoughts.

“The dead don’t complain.” Messaya shrugged.

She walked towards the stone bench and placed a hand on Rhabina’s brow. Roban followed.

“She looks somehow different than I remember,” he said standing at the other side of the bench.

“She is different, she’s dead. What you see is her soul, her body is only a memory,” Messaya replied.

Roban grabbed the linen cloth and pulled it off the body then threw it away. Tilting his head he watched the nude body of Rhabina. Her pale skin, her gracious neck, the swell of her small but proud breasts, her flat belly and slim hips, her long long legs and at the apex her sex, decorated by a tiny triangle of downy soft black hair. Beautiful, but Roban didn’t smile, he frowned. Rhabina looked rather dead than sleeping. A small smile crept on to his face. He circled Rhabina’s belly button with the point of his index finger and drew a line down towards the small triangle of hair, his nail lightly scratching her smooth, pale skin. His smile widened as he watched her belly tightening in response to his touch, and defined muscle groups showed beneath her skin.

“Luckily her soul remembers her beautiful belly, and she’s still ticklish,” he observed.

“Roban, when we awaken her, she won’t be the Rhabina you knew. It will be her soul, the essence of her being. Humans make compromises in life, but a soul doesn’t. She has to be judged, but I can see her memories and there is no darkness inside of her,” Messaya said, and Roban thought she looked worried.

“Why didn’t you judge her already?” He asked.

“We couldn’t do it. Someone else has a stronger claim on her soul than the gods of the underworld,” Messaya answered, intently watching Roban. “I know it’s not you, it’s Chaos. Once your sister claims someone, she’ll never let go. However, Rhabina’s soul still has to be judged, no matter the claim, no matter if she stays in the underworld or returns to the world of the living. Balkhor and I can’t render a judgment, and Chaos is not here to do it herself. She sent her errand boy instead, so I propose you’ll have to do it.”

“You’re starting to annoy me, Messaya. Neither am I an errand boy, nor am I a judge. Look at me again and remember who I am.”

Messaya did not look at Roban but lowered her eyes. “With your permission we’ll render the judgment, but I need my brother. I can’t do it alone.”

Roban nodded and Messaya quickly left the chamber. Alone now, he watched the sleeping Rhabina and cupped one of her breasts with his hand. “You’re not that different, are you?” He asked whispering, gently squeezing her breast and stroking its nipple with his thump. He grinned when her nipple stiffened under his caress. He looked up when he heard someone noisily clearing his throat. Turning around, he watched a procession entering the small chamber. The first of the Vermurak held the Scale of Justice. Two others followed carrying a small stone table, and two more leading Balkhor, their hands on his shoulders. Messaya was the last entering the room.

The Vermurak put down the table and placed the scale on it. Then they left the chamber. Balkhor and Messaya remained standing to the sides of the table. As Roban watched them, Balkhor straightened and defiantly returned his gaze, but Messaya avoided his eyes, and looked down at the black ball in her hands.

“Go on. The sooner you’re done with the judgment, the sooner we can leave,” Roban prodded.

Messaya placed her black ball in one of the scale pans, and Balkhor the white. For a moment the balance lingered, but then the pan with the white ball dropped and the black ball rose. Balkhor wore a smug grin on his face as he strode to the exit of the chamber.

Roban looked at Messaya, but she was still avoiding his eyes. Suddenly the chamber brightened and Roban heard a familiar voice.

“Where am I?”

Roban turned towards the source of the voice and groaned, loudly. Rhabina was awake, and a bright halo of light surrounded her.

The big gray Patran lay hidden behind some bushes in a grove of Ash Trees. It was near a forlorn farmstead and a bit north of the battlefield. She was watching a barn and waiting for the sun to settle. While the sun slowly sank behind the mountains, Sureyssa mused about the happenings of that day.

A lot had happened and there was a lot to think about. A lot of the things she saw didn’t make any sense to her, and then there were things she didn’t understand at all. She had never comprehended the human custom of fighting wars against each other, and this war was no exception. Only the townsfolk of Notabir and the Ghallan Clans had any reason to be here. Vernya was there home. The others were here because their Kings and Fusans, Emperors and Chieftains, their lords and masters commanded them to fight this war. What was their reason? Greed, glory and despair, in some cases it seemed to be pure stupidity.

However, Sureyssa wasn’t here because of the humans. They died or they didn’t, and if they didn’t, they soon would fight another war. She was here because of the other parties involved in this particular war. The Gods of Atyseos, their banished children and the trinity of fate was amongst them. Their reasons to fight were as confusing as their roles within this war. Who was friend and who was foe was clouded by hidden agendas and veiled conspiracies. Was it a war fought for freedom against control? But who was in control, and who fought for freedom?

Sureyssa had seen the power of darkness displayed in this war. The black fire, an inferno ready to extinguish her world, and she had also seen the power of light. Understated, just a tiny insect flying across the sky, but the tiny insect carried the force of light. It had squashed its target, a monstrous creature of the darkness. But this was not a war of darkness against light, or good versus evil. This war was chaos with a capital ‘C’, and Sureyssa had to play her part in it. She roared announcing her arrival and a moment later a group of tiny warriors exited the barn. Sureyssa trotted through the barn door and the Antussie bowed respectfully. She changed into her human form and opened a door leading into a chamber at the back of the barn. Sureyssa was the last to arrive. Three goddesses were waiting for her.

“Finally, although I’ve to admit I doubted you would come at all,” Esthera said instead of a greeting.

“Fickle alliances and family fighting each other, you have every reason to doubt, daughter of the Dreamer,” Sureyssa replied.

“Family doesn’t mean the same to Gods and Goddesses. Rarely ever was any love lost between our family members. Mothers, daughters, fathers, brothers, different frontiers, but love is no part of the equation.” Ayphera added her opinion. “You can’t choose your family, so choose your friends and enemies wisely.”

“I saw the explosion when Destruction broke his prison, did Deception’s vessel survive?” Sureyssa asked, watching the woman seemingly sleeping in a dark corner of the room.

“No, the explosion tore her human vessel to shreds, but we were prepared. Her new vessel is actually a relative of her old vessel Kassja. Some second cousin several times removed, and also a priestess of Ghania. Never say there is no use for family.” Ayphera laughed. “Deception burned many vessels since she arrived on Calmyra, she is used to it by now, and should be ready to continue when she awakes. Our plan cannot be delayed.”

Esthera and Ayphera stared intently at the nude Sureyssa.

“Do you have what you promised to deliver?” Esthera asked raising a single eyebrow.

Sureyssa, smiling mildly in response, held out her empty palms and closed her eyes. A sprinkle of light appeared on the center of each palm and vanished with a flash. They left behind a small casket with a golden lock on her right hand and a small golden key in the palm of the left.