Blackbird
I often wake up less sure than the night before.
Waving off the steam... mind washing ashore…
And yet here I am again.
Reminiscent nostalgia?
Hopeless romance?
Lost cause.
All or nothing to start another hour.
If for nothing else than to count the petals
of a useless flower.
The agony worth the details
if the sea will still have me.
The last steps are harder. They certainly were that time. Everything was already decided, but there’s always a doubt—a question wafting in the humidity. Without a way to predict what comes next, it takes courage to move forward.
I wasn’t afraid of dying.
I was afraid of anything happening at all.
So, I stood at the altar holding Nox Aeterna. My loyal companion—my sword made from fallen feathers. She was already nearly half her former size. We worked for months to find and forge those two fragments.
Nox Aeterna at her full strength would be larger than my own body from hilt to tip. Black as the night’s shadow, I wore a harness more than a sheath to hold her on my back. She was glowing in dark reds, old runes engraved on her side drew in an ancient power.
The pommel still held a dull blue glow. A way to remember the loss of my sister. A candle to light through the maddening darkness. I was holding Nox Aeterna there in that cave at the top of a sacred mountain—at an altar the Clergy built. They raised stones and surrounded the platform with holy water. They carved out a hole in the ceiling to let the sun and moon shine through.
Only when they all aligned could I attempt to bridge the gap. I would walk to the other side.
There must be a way back to you.
“You alright, Rhean?” Dorus was always the first to say something. A short man, short even by human standards, spoke up to me. He wore a simple uniform in blacks and reds with an over-sized hat and an equally over-sized feather sticking out of its side. All his clothing bore the crest of one of the most ambitious nations on the continent: Arstafas, a stolen name and a mistaken identity.
They used iconography beyond their ken. They painted the eternal sky in the official colors, those same blacks and reds. The only text was an ancient word written in forgotten runes. It was strange that they could find those letters again.
Ancient runes that were better lost to time immemorial. Then again, so should have the name Arstafas. Indeed, humans draw inspiration from strange and rare sources. An undying desire toward progress, but it is all eventually superseded by betrayal.
“Rhean?” As I raised my sword, Dorus held back the monks and my two other companions, Othil and Kronates. Two men who joined us during the journey. Othil was valley folk. He was looking to find trade routes from the other nations. Kronates was a giant of a young man and from a major harbor. He stayed with us to avoid his father.
“I’ve got it, Dorus, don’t worry!” Forged from the remnants of my own blackened wings, Nox Aeterna was still fractured and struggled to summon the strength to pursue the ritual. I slammed her into the rocky base of the altar to force a reaction.
Leaning onto the hilt, the jagged edge of the broken blade dug deep into the ground. Red roots grew through the stones of their monastery and into the heart of the mountain. Even incomplete, Nox Aeterna would have the power to channel the spell. I just needed to focus my thoughts.
I let my vision fall onto the dim blue glow of the pommel. I could find a route through the chaos—make sense of the shadows and find that island floating in the sky. Nox Aeterna responded to my desire with a blinding red light. She mirrored the confidence I once possessed. All that was left was to recite the old prayer.
The runes along her side were burning into the mountain. My blade would illuminate the long hall in a dark red brighter than anything the mortals had hence witnessed. All the monks and my two companions recoiled as a reflex. Dorus and the head monk worked together to turn everyone around, shielding their eyes from my otherworldly light.
Their reactions were a gentle reminder of their frail nature. I couldn’t help but laugh at their efforts to comprehend my life. Looking past the sins, humans are endearing in their enduring curiosity.
“Are you sure this is safe?” Kronates spoke up with his back to the light. He may have been a giant of a young man—still just a boy by age alone—but he was shy for his size, unsure of the charisma in his character and his stature. I think that’s why he grew out the beard. Red like the rest of his hair, it matched his personality in some way.
“If you ruin another good poncho, it’s coming out of your pocket!” Othil wasn’t as big as Kronates, but certainly three times the height of Dorus. Even travelling so far from his home, he kept wearing the traditional robes of the valley folk. I imagine he thought it would aid in his talks on pacifying trade routes.
He was about Dorus’ age and shared his interest in building reputation and fame. The politics of the century shrinking profits for all nations outside of Arstafas, he tasked himself with finding new markets for his homeland—the greed of men truly never-ending.
“What’s wrong with the one I’m wearing, Othil?” I shouted back at my companions. Some banter to keep them distracted as the mountain’s rumbling grew into a roar. By the time the ritual was done, they would surely think it an earthquake across the continent.
“It’s like all your others!” Othil tried to face me, covering his eyes with his hands, but flesh alone is not enough to protect mortal eyes. He instantly turned back against the pressure of my intense red light.
“I’ll keep that in mind!” I shouted back just as the mountain began rocking back and forth.
“Come! Take refuge in our shelter!” Ranoski, the head monk of the Clergy of Krenaiserg, shouted the final order and my companions followed her as she guided the monks down one of the halls of the cave. They had enough wit to find a good place to hide before the walls came tumbling down.
I refocused my mind on the dim blue glow of the pommel once again. The color was all but snuffed out. I was almost there.
And all there was left to do was wait. I let my thoughts drift back to the absurdity of Othil’s mercantile concerns even in the face of death. That kind of reliability is inspiring in a way. He cared so much about something so insignificant.
As those lofty goals settled into a distant dream, I let my lips find shapes they lost long, long ago. Words I hadn’t heard since before the first fall. After so much time, the syllables tasted foreign on my aged tongue.
Boađe ruoktot álo go
don dovddat duski
Boađe ruoktot álo go
don dovddat váivvi
du ruoktu vuordá
du álo
du ruoktu vuordá
du álo
The stone walls of the cave then disappeared and I was transported to another realm. High atop Krenaiserg, the same mountain where the monastery was founded, I was starstruck by what I saw. I always hoped, but never fully believed she would really be there. Someone above answered my fallen call. One of my sisters still soaring through the skies.
The only one left who never surrendered to the void beyond or the deep blue below. Her master still carried the burden of life. Holding up an island high above the clouds as he walked through the sea, endlessly.
“Rhean!” She sung my name. It had been so long since I heard her voice. I didn’t trust myself to recognize it. I could only just barely make out her silhouette against the floating landmass still dutifully held up by the old god Amonis, her eternal master.
“Aubir? Aubir Anjukur?” Her hair was long and white, and her eyes were painted in a deep blue of the sky. She wore a dress as white as her hair with an ancient pattern on its front—her majestic white seabird, the benalphyn, whose form she freely took.
“Rhean Eyadu! You’re still alive!” Aubir spoke with stunted surprise in her voice. As the benalphyn, she flew down to the cliff where I was waiting.
“It’s been a long time.” I raised my arm, but the weight of my broken blade kept my hands firmly planted. The realm would collapse if I severed the connection between my body and the holy ground.
“But if you’re still here, then that means…” Aubir returned to her more usual form and danced around the edge of that cliff. She admired my strength, and then finally sat down beside me with a worried smile.
“I know.” We were all close in that time before time. When the world below was still nothing but a vast expanse of oceans over every horizon. Before the first fall when humanity revealed their true nature to the naïve Dwolmarik—to the first of the old gods to fall—to my estranged master.
“Are you alright? What happened to you?” Aubir rubbed my shoulders and felt where that evil villain ripped my blackened wings from my body. Honorable men who would sacrifice my soul for an ounce more of power.
“They are all white scars and scales now.” I would try to take the form of the blackbird who once bore my name—only to reveal old wounds across my body. No black feathers, only scars and scales. Confessions saving my soul from deeper damnation. More than half demon by appearance. It suited me well.
“So, your blackbird—the benakosamsla—is no more? We must find a new one for you then!” Aubir stood up and looked into my eyes. I could see my own reflection and let out lifetimes of laughter.
“Aubir, I can’t even remember what she looked like. I forgot what I look like until you showed me. No, my blackbird is no more. What was left of my feathers were used to forge my new companion.” I gripped Nox Aeterna tighter to show Aubir how powerful the reflections from the monastery were. Echoes of light into the realm of our meeting answered in kind. Dark reds shouting out into the eternal blue sky.
“Well, then I’ll just have to make one from what I remember!” She reached for my hand, and I could understand what she wanted. Her heart was still pure. She did not yet know the full weight of humanity’s betrayal.
“Don’t waste your time.” I relaxed my grip and settled back into my more human form. “The flight of birds is a game for a Gardener-Sage still in the sky. That isn’t me anymore. Not after the fall. Besides, I like who I became and how I look now.”
“Has it been that hard?” Aubir rubbed the back of my hand and helped ease the pain of holding our meeting together. “How did you know I would answer your call?”
“I didn’t.” I smiled and she smiled back. We shared the burden of my absent confidence. Our kind are meant to be stewards. We live and we sacrifice in service to our masters, but our love is for our people—for the children of the old gods. Only another Gardener-Sage can truly understand that contradictory mission—that impossible emotion.
“I never expected to see any of us again. Amonis maintains the peace as a wandering vanguard, but it’s nothing like before.” Aubir pointed to her master in the offing. He was massive, larger than the largest clouds. And he was strong, stronger than the tallest mountains. But he was so different from my master—from Dwolmarik. He performed his duty and nothing more. He didn’t care for his children. There was no hate, simply indifference.
“You remember how it used to be?” Even then, I was asking her to forgive my master—or at the very least, understand him. Dwolmarik could never ignore the humans living off his grace. There was no limit to what he would give to his children, but it was never enough. I can remember trying to find an answer in the stars. Somewhere along the lines where the old gods were guided.
“I watched you all fall.” Aubir let tears rain from the sky. For all the power of a Gardener-Sage, we were forever bound by the will of our masters. Defiance was impossible. The fatal flaw was never realizing humans are not like us. They are not bound by words or promises or pacts or prayers.
“I saw them all die.” I didn’t mean to hurt Aubir, but my words pierced her heart and pained her deeply. The rain quickened in kind. I could sympathize with her loss and loneliness, but it was hard not to think of her as the lucky one. She still lived in a paradise. That wasn’t her fault and none of us were to blame. Human sin contrived to defeat us. We needed to stand together.
“Rhean… I should have found a way to the surface!” Aubir wiped her tears away and the rain stopped. A three toned rainbow painted in brushes made from the wind moved against the clouds and built a bridge from her floating island home to the monastery on the cliff.
“Why would you willingly risk it all? I understand why you stayed on Chukari and I would have done the same if it were Arstafas still in the sky. I learned to survive, but those lessons are nowhere near worth their price.” I shook my head and tried to refocus my thoughts. I stared at Aubir and tried to make her feel who I was. I showed her that dull blue glowing in the pommel of Nox Aeterna.
We came to the monastery for a reason. I needed to explain it all to Aubir while I still had the strength to hold my broken blade. There was work to be done. Nox Aeterna and her missing fragments were yet to be reforged.
“You’re losing control. What’s wrong, Rhean? Why did you call me here?” Aubir raised her head, and we watched as cracks formed in the sky. Red bolts of lightning pierced the clouds and ran as roots through the earth. The light took the same shapes as my white scars and scales. “Your blackwinged blade is missing feathers?”
“Dorus wants to make the world of men worthy of the Gardener-Sage songs. He told me some like him have learned of what used to be and want to bring paradise to the world below. He promised to show me how to summon you if I joined him. How could I not?” I knew my words would raise more questions than they answered, but I was losing my grip on Nox Aeterna. The emotions were too vivid. The last of my sisters was still alive. “And now I need your help to fill in the gaps!”
“Anything for my sister.” Aubir stood in front of me and reached out to support my sword with me. Together we brought balance to that unstable realm. It smelled like her home. The gardens and the trees. The water and the birds. The humans yet to learn how to struggle and survive. I could hear them worshiping her master, Amonis—the last of the old gods.
“Thank you, Aubir.” I needed more from my sister, but I first needed her trust.
“So, let’s begin with something simple. Who is Dorus?” She laughed and we found the old songs in each other’s embrace.
“A new friend who found me in a place humans call Merishtun. It’s not often they impress me, but he sure did. That man even got me to take on two companions. I can hardly believe it myself.” I laughed and Aubir shared that happiness with her soft smile.
“Tell me all about them.”
