Unproven

6 || Beloved Prisoner

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Beloved Prisoner

Ferociously Fearing Failure

Ali'ikiswan paced the stone flooring harder than he had in years. Two of his prisoners were free. He'd felt their release when it happened but now he knew for sure: he'd visited the graves. Thank mother earth for every mercy, he'd thought when he verified one grave remained undisturbed. Hinzwala'amakan mages bred kotrakoy to require three genders before fertilized mating could occur. For now, at least, there was no fear of any kotrakoy infestation. Still, the release of a single beast was disconcerting. Releasing two was unthinkable. Most disturbingly, Ali'ikiswan considered the deed would have required a Hinzwala'amakan mage more powerful than himself. That was no small observation. Ali'ikiswan's prodigious power had been legendary since his youth. But even now, he was uncertain how kotrakoy could have been restored to life. He'd cursed them to rot. He estimated that the bones should have dissoluted long ago. Nothing should have been left. And he'd used powerful magic. Nevertheless, they were gone. And mother earth had been deeply disturbed about it. She'd shifted her magic. And with the Turn of magic, no one would be capable of controlling those beasts.

Whoever unearthed the beasts might have been the best candidate for learning new forms to control kotrakoy but Ali'ikiswan guessed mother earth had cursed that mage for the foul deed. He sipped his drink and looked around the cavern he called home. Apart from a few tapestries and furniture, there were minimal decorations. Not counting the bookshelves of course - or the mounted heads he'd collected - or the vines. Everything was neat and tidy: he hadn't given up every Hiwalani tradition. He scanned the shelf for his kotrakoy journals. He'd recorded every detail he'd learned about them. With the unearthing of kotrakoy, the journals would have inestimable value - especially given the cursing of the new Hinzwalan mage. Natives would look to Ali'ikiswan for guidance. The least he could do was offer them his studies. He owed them that much. It didn't take Ali'ikiswan long to figure out he was wasting time scanning the shelves: he remembered burying them somewhere in his study. He'd look for them later.

Ali'ikiswan shifted thoughts, wondered what this Turn would bring. Every few generations, the earth required something new of her mages, something unique. The masses would mostly be able to continue using common magic for menial tasks but higher Hinzwalan magery would require significant adjustments. Sometimes it took years before anyone could master it. Ali'ikiswan worried that it might take longer this time. Legend was that magic Turns occurred when Hinzwala became prideful or too powerful, that mother earth was reminding Hiwalani that her will needed to be respected. If legends were true and she was upset over the unearthing of kotrakoy, this new cycle might take a decade to master.

Ali'ikiswan stopped pacing for a moment. He pointed a thick baton the length of his forearm towards the entrance of his cavern and released its sickly green light. It shined brightly. As the beam passed from left to right, it didn't bend. No kotrakoy were present. Ali'ikiswan imagined he felt one coming but he couldn't trust his discernment any more. He wasn't in tune with mother earth and hadn't been for a long time. He was old and worn. He should have been dead long ago. Mother earth had cursed him for what he'd done, cursed him to live with his guilt for an unholy length of time. Ali'ikiswan shut off the light and walked over to the wet bar and downed the rest of his cocktail imprudently fast ... and regretted it. He considered that maybe he shouldn't shine the beam anymore. Maybe he should seek out the kotrakoy and hope they'd kill him fast. Then he could find some semblance of peace. But peace at what cost? Suicide was against every Hiwalani tradition he'd been raised to follow, every tradition he'd passed on to his children. Still, the thought had come to him often since they'd been released. Ali'ikiswan yearned for death. He yearned for a release from his suffering.