Stitches

To Thrive

Slowly, I was able to stand, though all around me was drip drip dripping with black black droplets of blood. I stumbled over to Grandmother's remains and pushed her over the ledge, into the watery abyss below.  The cistern of the ancestors. From the black water we come and to the black water we return. From the drip drip dropping of my black black tears, I could make out a blur of yellow and brown. A seed. It still glowed a warm black.

The four men were thrown around the room, only feet away from where they had killed grandmother. Three of them dead and one unconscious, but breathing. For now. Grandmother's final act was to end their lives. Their final act was to end hers. I looked at them and I couldn't help but laugh. There was a feeling inside that I just couldn't express with my eight year old vocabulary. 

"You have cool powers?" The words slipped out of my mouth like I was talking to other grade school kids. Looking down, I could see that I was glowing black just like the seed that was now in my clutched hand. "I have a cool power that mama says is really special." I went up to the big purple cloaked man in front of me and opened his unconscious mouth. I started reciting a poem who's words seemed to endlessly flow out of my mouth without actually crossing my mind. It was like I was speaking someone else's words.

"The Eternal Storm, the sifter of fates, drives on across the Crystalwater Grund and across time,
His landscape, like a line in Ezra's psalm book, is seriousness and power and eternity.

What we choose to fight is so tiny, but our never ending bitterness is so greatly growing.
If only we would not let ourselves be dominated, we would become strong too. We would not be bound by this amphisbaena of mutual suffering and hate.

Guided by this monster who appeared to the sirens of the Old Worlds, we fight.
It cherished them under its clutches as chords of deep music.

Whoever was visited by this Angel of Death (and often simply declined to fight), went away proud and strengthened and unscathed from his harsh hand.

Living does not tempt this beast. This is how he grows: by being Invited, decisively, by constantly eviler beings and thoughts.

I bind us in his blood."

As the words left my lips, my drip drip dripping black black blood lifted off the floor and formed a lizard, crawling into his mouth like a snake with claws that scrapped across the floor. It hissed as it embedded itself deep into the defenseless attacker, the purple cloaked man's eyes rolling back into his head. 

I fell to my knees and began to weep. What else was I supposed to do besides paint the ground black with the drip drip dropping of my black black soul? Suddenly, the seed began to glow even more vibrantly. My belly was filled with the undying twinge of rage. Somehow, all I could do though was laugh. And cry. I laughed and cried and cried and laughed with a drip drip drop of the black black puddles. A voice from deep within my mind rang uncontrollably through my body. My actions weren't mine. 

"Drip drip drop little April showers making a tune as you fall all around." 

The world started to spin and darkness enclosed onto my body. 

***

When I came to, the room was empty. No blood, no bodies, no ominous feeling of loneliness. All that there was, was the drip drip dripping of my own blood cascading out of my eyes and a set of bars between me and another man in a purple cloak walking down the hall.

"And so folls de mighty Black'atta Grun."

I turned around to find on the opposite side of my cell, a tall Nymph man. Though I've seen male nymphs before, this one seemed a little different. Very different in fact. His tendrils expanded a bit further than usual and they flared out at the ends too. Even his coloring was exotic, with flashes of red and purple and yellow mixed in with more mundane blues and greens that i was accustomed too. From his forehead five large quill-like spines jutted up to occupy the space above his bed.

"My son, you gotta know dat you be safe for now. But dose monsta will be back to test you. Dey'll try to break you de way dey try to break all us. But we stand strong as 'atta fae do. My son, wat's your name? Say it loud so you don't fehget it. So dey can't fehget it."

"My name is Nox, son of Larix. And I'm a nixie of the Blackwater Grund." The words echoed through my mind before I collapsed again into the inky blackness of my tears.