Trust in the will of the Gods, and not on the meager understandings of men.
- The Canon
[Ophelia]
My feet now tread in the Forbidden Lands, something before I would never have considered, such was my obedience to the Gods. It was exhilarating, a new unbonded destiny, but also terrifying. A lifetime of indoctrination was not an easy thing to cast off. What if the tales of poison and monsters were true? But there were no signs of such. The plants and rocks seemed normal enough, the sky held the same blueness, birds still tweeted the same songs, and the wildflowers were every bit as colorful.
We descended through a scrubby forest, weaving around tumbled piles of boulders and steep-sided washes. As the sun rose high in the sky, we took off our furs. Kit bounced along, hopping from rock to rock and examining anything of interest along the way, apparently unconcerned about what lied ahead. I wish I had her enthusiasm. Dash was quite the opposite, as surly as ever, perhaps because of the bundles of furs we added to his load.
I took a few moments to study Cyril as we walked along. He has been kind to me, much more than I deserved. By rights, he should have despised me. But every dimpled grin chased away the darkness on my heart, like morning sunshine did the night. In moments of rambling thought, I imagined us together. But with him being of Chaos and me a Moirai, how could that ever come to be?
Cyril kept me warm last night. I should have pushed his arm off of me, but it felt so... good. A different kind of warmth caressed my heart like a gentle summer breeze, and I nearly melted, feeling safe, cared for. That night gave me the most contented sleep.
And earlier on that terrifying ridge, his embrace wove our souls together on a loom of our own making. For a moment, Chaos and Order bonded in harmony, not as the enemies that I was taught to believe, perhaps how it should be.
A gentle song, barely audible above the rustling leaves, pulled me from my thoughts. I cocked an ear. "Do you hear that?"
"Yes." Cyril stopped to listen. "It sounds like singing. How can that be?" He spoke to Kit in their silent sign language and she just shrugged.
The song grew louder as we went along, becoming a soaring aria accompanied by the wind, ethereal and pure, intoxicating, compelling us onward. Cyril walked at my side, his face expressionless as if in a trance. Unhearing, Kit wrinkled her forehead at our compulsion.
It promised eternal peace, rest for weary souls, joy in place of sorrow, but somehow, I knew the song was as false as the Gods' will. Despite a deep part of me shouting a warning, it became everything, driving us to its source.
We emerged from the scrubby trees to a rocky bluff. Ahead on a boulder at the cliff edge, perched a strange creature made of white alabaster. The singer had the body of a slender woman, long folded wings at her back, and legs like a bird. My heart raced and my gut twisted as I recognized this monster, one constructed by the Gods - a Siren. Despite naming the beast, my legs would still not obey my desperate commands to stop.
Kit tugged at her brother, then at me, imploring us with wide teary eyes to break free of the Siren spell, but it did no good. Dash joined the urging, braying behind us. In perhaps my last willful act, I pulled out the glass long-knife from my satchel and dropped it at Kit's feet.
The Siren put on a sinister smirk at our plight, eager for the kill. The song continued, its sweetness now sickening, and we marched involuntarily to the cliff edge. I wanted to tell Cyril I was sorry, and to thank him for opening my eyes to the truth and for showing me undeserved compassion, but my voice no more obeyed my commands than my feet. We came to the edge of a sheer drop and I turned my eyes down to the sun-bleached bones of previous victims scattered among the jagged rocks far below.
Then, inexplicably, the Siren released her treacherous hold on us, the song replaced by a piercing screech. Free from the spell, we swung our heads around to see Kit furiously hacking at the Siren's torso with my glass knife, chipping off hunks of white rock. Enraged, the Siren backhanded Kit, sending her tumbling across the rocky ground.
In swift action, Cyril drew his obsidian knife and charged, gritting his teeth in rage. He closed the distance to the Siren in a heartbeat. The black smoke of Chaos poured from his skin as the knife slashed, plunging into the Siren's body. Her alabaster body ruptured into fragments of white gravel, falling to the ground in a pile as the echoes of her last shriek faded away.
Cyril stood, heaving deep breaths through a clenched jaw, his white knuckles tight around the knife handle. The Chaos swirled around him in turbulent eddies, appearing to feed off his emotions. Despite this, for I knew it would not hurt me, I came to him, putting a hand to his cheek and gazed into angry eyes. "It is done, Cyril."
Closing his eyes for a moment, he nodded and slowed his breath. The Chaos faded, returning deep inside him. He sheathed his knife and rushed to his sister's side, helping her sit up. Kit wavered as she stroked an injured cheek, then grinned at him. They exchanged a silent conversation and Cyril laughed while drawing her into an embrace.
Coming to me, Kit held out my glass knife. I shook my head, pushing the knife back in her hands then making the hand gestures for 'hero' and 'thank you', some of the few words I knew in her sign language. She thanked me for the gift with a heart-warming hug.
*****
Once out of the mountains, our journey took us across a sea of sand. The dunes stood in tall still waves, shaped by the whims of the wind. Cyril explained we would follow the river that ran just past the sands, which was a good thing since our water supplies grew low. Climbing the dunes was more difficult than I imagined, for every two steps forward, I slid one step back.
Kit held up her new glass knife to the bright afternoon sun, letting it create a smear of colors on the rock outcropping we passed. I pointed at her and caught Cyril's attention. "If I may ask, how did you come to have Kit as a sister? She does not seem to be of your bloodline."
"Kit is fully my sister! A family need not be of one blood." His words held an edge of anger.
I dipped my head. "Please forgive me, I did not mean to imply--"
Cyril swept aside my apology, putting a hand on my shoulder. "No, forgive me. It is a fair question. Others have asked such, but with intent to mock, thinking a curse of the Gods. I know you do not."
I shivered, knowing from the work as Moirai on the loom, that many children deemed defective were left to die, thought that to be the Gods' will.
Cyril continued. "When I was but a young lad, Father and I went to a nearby village to trade our craft. We found Kit digging through the rubbish for food. She was barely six cycles old, dirty, starving, scared, and alone. No one in the village would claim her, so Father took her in, such was his heart. From then on she became part of my family in every way that matters."
The tale brought a smile to my face. "Think of it, Cyril, that act of compassion by you and your father so many years ago saved our lives today. Had not Kit been with us, we surely would be dead at the bottom of that cliff."
"I suppose so." He smiled in return. "That is the best kind of destiny."
"Yes--"
Dash interrupted our conversation by letting out a massive bray. The burro pinned his ears back and pulled back on his reins, dragging Kit backwards through the sand. With lips pulled back, another bray pierced the quiet.
Cyril wrinkled his forehead. "Dash is an obstinate one, but never that much so." He rushed over to help Kit, grabbing the reins, but even the two of them could not hold against the animal.
A strange vibration shook my feet, and grains of sand danced around us. A motion in the distance caught my eye. Mounds of sand crested as something swam through it. Something enormous and menacing. Immediately, my heart pounded. I pointed, shouting out, "Cyril! Look!"
Cyril's eyes widened. "Back to the rocks!" he yelled.
He grabbed Kit's hand, then mine, and we ran, Dash leading the way. Whatever it was, it moved through the sand like a fish in water, much faster than we could run. The creature crested a dune top, emerging like a dolphin from a wave. Only it was nothing like a dolphin, more like a giant worm with brown overlapping armored scales. The monster looked to be at least twenty times longer than I was tall, and with a massive girth.
Breathless, we only just reached the rocks as the sand monster closed the distance. It flopped its head up on the rock edge, thrashing back and forth with a round open mouth lined with rows of dagger-like teeth. Its mouth, big enough to swallow any of us with a single gulp, emitted a sour smell of sulfur. Cyril slashed with his knife, but only scratched a scale. With a battle bray, Dash turned and kicked the monster behind its mouth, sending it back into the sand.
Cyril blew out a breath and ruffled the fur on the burro's head. "Good boy, Dash!"
The sand quieted. The safety of a rocky river bed laid within sight, but too far if the monster laid anywhere near. It felt like we were shipwrecked fishermen stranded on a remote island. We waited silently on the rock pile.
I whispered, "Do you think it went away?"
Cyril shook his head. "I am not willing to bet my life on it." Picking up flat rock, he heaved it out onto the sand with a plop. Within a moment, the sand erupted around the rock and the monster's open mouth emerged. "It lies in wait like a panther."
Kit tugged on her brother's shirt, pointing far in the distance at a disturbance in the dunes. He said, "More come. The vibrations must attract them. We may have to make a run for it, or be forever stranded on these rocks."
I took a deep breath to gather my courage. "Let me distract them while you and Kit go."
Cyril snapped his head around. "No, Ophelia! I will not let you sacrifice yourself like that."
"When the monster nears, I can change into the Moirai myst and drift above, out of reach. I will be safe." But I was not so sure about this. It took a moment of concentration to switch between Moirai and human form, precise timing would be required to avoid being eaten.
Standing still in thought, Cyril let out a breath in resignation. "Very well. But we must go now before the others arrive." He brought me into his arms. Leaning my head against his chest, I heard his heart beat. He said, "But promise me you will be safe."
Stepping back, I replied, "I promise." My heart skipped a beat as I prayed I would keep this promise.
I closed my eyes and shifted, becoming white smoke and light. Cyril's concerned eyes followed me as I drifted out above the sands in a direction away from the river. Sufficiently far away, I descended to the sand and, after a moment, condensed back to my human form. After a deep breath, I ran, and ran, and ran, stomping the sand as I went. The quaking of the sand came again, and, in the distance behind me, a swath of sand rose, coming my way. It was working!
Running along the top of a dune, I looked back at Cyril and Kit. They began their run to safety. And for the first time, I saw Dash actually dash, galloping alongside.
But with my head turned, I tripped, rolling down a steep dune face and flinging sand around me. Ending prone on my stomach, I tasted the grit on my tongue. My breath halted as the whole dune shook. It was near. I closed my eyes, willing a transformation, and rose from the sand in myst form just as the monster burst out of the dune side, its mouth wide open.
With me drifting above, the monster turned and plunged into the sand, heading back toward Cyril and Kit, who had not yet reached the river. I came back down on a dune again, reverting to solid form, and jumped up and down, yelling a challenge to the monster. Turning, it raced back to me in angry pursuit, surfing the waves of sand only to lose its prey. Again and again I did this until Cyril, Kit, and Dash were safe.
My goal achieved, I floated to the river, out of reach of the confused beast. With heart soaring, I converted one last time to the woman I was at the riverside. But a chilled dizziness overtook me, and I collapsed. Cyril caught me, bringing me down gently to lean against him, safe again in his arms.
"Are you alright, Ophelia?" His voice, laced with concern, warmed my heart.
"I think so," I answered. "The transformations tax me."
"Rest now." He gave me a dimpled smile. "You saved us, Ophelia, thank you. But let us avoid sands from now on?"