Lanik's Journey Chapter 13Chapter 13
Lanik awoke from blackness into the dim light of evening. Her head was resting against Zagers lap, and the cloak had been pulled up around her snuggly. She vaguely remembered the sensation of seeing the cloak spark to life, and her clothes being burnt away in the fire. She did not feel injured, though, aside from a pounding headache and a fierce hunger. But then, she realized, as her thought became more clear, she hadnt eaten since the night before.
Zager looked down, and more gently then one would handle a glass flower, brushed a lock of hair from her face. Are you feeling better?
No, Lanik admitted honestly. And I need my clothes please tell me they didnt get burned up in that fire storm-
Quite a show you made back there. Zager smiled weakly.
Lanik's Journey Chapter 12Chapter 12
The same rocks cropped up around her. Her hair was blow back from her face by a brisk stiff wind. Her eyes watered, trying to take in the entire landscape, but couldnt. As she closed her eyes, the world seemed to shift ever so slightly. The wind continued, but she was in a steep, narrow cleft through a mountain, in noon-day sun that gleamed off the dark surfaces all around her and illuminated the small track of land. The same woman she had repeatedly seen in her dreams stood before her. Her black hair and simple bright red shift dress blew in the same wind as her own, obscuring her features. Her figure was beautiful and perfectly proportional, with a warm color to her skin. Flat-faced white flowers were woven here and there through her hair, but they were knocked loose and blew high and away on the wind.
Lanik watched her as she picked a seed from out of the ground, which sprouted one, and then two, and then a
Calling the Behemoth - ExcerptMatenya stared up at the Behemoth. The pile of trinkets and beads and random tokens had grown into a life of its own over the years. That was exactly as her family had wanted, of course. When someone had placed the demon mask there long ago, they probably never expected it to gain the power that it had. Noneteless, it had, and it did. She stared at it intently, still hoping good news would arrive that would let her avoid such a gamble. The mask as now the oldest remaining object of power on the heap. That made it the most powerful, and most unpredictable.
The ritual was always the same, and simple enough that any could take part. You gave up an object, be it important or trash, simple or complex, and took away an object. The object you took away could be less powerful then you left, and so you contributed to the Behemoth's power. The object could be equal to what you gave, and so you took power from it that you needed for a time. Sometime she had given without taking anything of great