Tale:To the City

Once, the king and queen were without child. Mourning the loss of their legacies, they prayed that a son would come to them from the Daymoon, full of light and life. The next day, when the Daymoon rose, it was eclipsed; blocked out by a massive and dark winged figure with a tail like a cedar and mouth like a cavern. When night came, the moon reappeared in the sky, but was too far to provide the region with daylight. At the palace gate was a monstrous egg, swaddled in a white blanket...

The bright pale moon grew distant; a sphere of crystalline ice came close. Since the camel reached the top of the hill, Vand was able to see all four moons at once. The Moon of Day seemed to be burning across the world, with the Moon of Tears and Moon of Souls on either side. The Moon of Frost was overhead, and all the moons were equidistant. It brought a chilling distinct lack of wind; the air was cold yet mute. Vand determined the four-step cycle to be a daily occurrence on the Surface. First the Moon of Souls, then the Moon of Day, then the Moon of Tears, finally the Moon of Frost. He expected that sometime soon, the Moon of Souls would shroud the region in ideal darkness, but after that, the Daymoon would bring a bright terror.

The camel's pace had slowed since its initial sprint. "Habib," called out Maryam, "I apologize for rushing you, but we needed to flee." She gently pet its side. Vand thought, It's not like it can understand her...She's so immature, and she calls me a child! She left her parents behind, harboring a fugitive, and for what? She left just because...just because she wanted...wanted to save...me. He started to feel a great pain at his collarbone, making him writhe. Maryam can't notice. She won't notice. Vand closed his watering eyes, and she didn't notice. Vand ruminated on the feeling he experienced. Was it guilt? It couldn't be, he hadn't done anything wrong. Maybe he didn't deserve to have his life saved—No! That would be ridiculous. Maybe, Vand wondered, it's because now, the whole town will think I died after submerging my cursed self in the spring. Or maybe, just maybe, he felt like he owed Maryam for saving his life twice. But he didn't. His clan taught him he didn't owe anyone just because he relied on them. After all, they were strong...and...and he was...weak. He couldn't possibly help needing help; getting food, going to sleep, finding his way home, navigating even the most open and marked tunnels, or every. Little. Thing.

They started riding downhill. Vand saw that a good deal of the land ahead of them was a flat plain. The valley behind them was already spacious to him, but the endless expanse of land before him was overwhelming. He hid underneath his hood. He had started to feel tired. He hadn't slept in several hours, but on the Surface, darkness was a precious resource. The lids of his eyes grew heavy, and in his mind's eye he could feel a dream forming. He was climbing up a claustrophobic chasm, trying to reach a glowing gem high above. He shook himself, trying to remain awake, ignoring the oneiric sensation he was feeling. Still, he couldn't help, but fall...asleep. Reaching for the crystal, his grip gave way. He began falling, darkness beyond darkness consuming him.

"We're almost there!" said Maryam. He opened his eyes. It was dark again, at least relatively. Under the Soulmoon, he saw a snow-capped mountain dense with conifer trees, at the foot of which was a sprawling urban area. Multiple keeps, buildings several stories high, houses ranging from shack to mansion, and a large flowing river channeling snowmelt down to the city. The city was haloed by a beautiful stone wall, reminiscent of one Vand saw as a child at a temple of Mot. The wall was decorated with vibrant banners, showing a cedar tree in royal blue wreathed in violet flames but not consumed by them.

Much closer by was a smaller stone wall, enclosing as square area, with a gate leading into a courtyard. Maryam unpacked a document, written in calligraphic Cadmean. While Vand could not read it, he could recognize a wax seal at the bottom of it, clearly of Tiemat. Some kind of official letter...perhaps someone important is in that building? She said 'almost there,' but we still seem a distance away from the city, and the Daymoon is getting close. Obviously the Surfacefolk were generally more temporally challenged, but their use of paper as the dominant mode of writing surface was irritating. It could be easily destroyed by water, or fire! If a clay tablet were touched by fire, it would get stronger; if a stone tablet were touched by fire, little would happen, and if either were touched by water, they could resist the erosion significantly better than paper. Vand drew his prized tablet from his rucksack and began praying. He felt at peace as he did. Mot, source of peace and quiet. How is it that the Surfacefolk fear it so greatly? he pondered.

Maryam dismounted the camel as they approached the building, leading it by the reins into the courtyard. Several doors inside the stone wall were present around the courtyard. Another camel, and a couple creatures like it, were stabled there. Vand asked Maryam what the creatures were, and she told him they were horses; like a camel, but faster, with less endurance and strength. Seemingly, it was some kind of inn. The inns back home aren't like this; no sky to open a courtyard to, no mounted animals, no open plains. They're basically just tunnels with frames to put our bedrolls. Maryam tied Habib to a post in an alcove, kept the document tucked in her elbow, and set Vand on the ground; he had almost grown used to it. They went inside the stone wall to see several beds. Maryam directed Vand to claim one as his own, so he put his rucksack on it and sat down. She claimed a different bed as her own and left her bag for Vand to watch. Maryam left, holding the official paper, and crossed the courtyard, likely to present it to an innkeeper.

Vand eyed the bag. She's rich. Filthy rich. Surely there would be something that could become his in the bag. He rooted through it discreetly, glad no other lurked in the room. Presumably, daytime was a bad time for most Surfacefolk to be sleeping. He found countless coins, of gold, silver, and bronze. But then she'll notice. Either she'll fail to pay the required amount of tax, or she'll be missing some personal cash. He kept searching. He procured a survival knife, some rations, a tinderbox, a book written in Cadmean, and a bloated coinpurse. So she definitely has some money to spare...but she might notice! Oh, what am I to do? She reentered the room. Vand quickly closed up the bag and went back to his own bed, pretending to sleep. Miraculously, Maryam didn't notice him slipping under the covers. She went over to her belongings and examined them. Peeking very carefully, Vand could tell she saw something wrong. Would she suspect him?

"Whatever, everything's still here," she said. She walked to Vand's bed in a single step. He quickly shut his eyes tight. She placed her hand on his face and said with a sigh, "Sleep well, prince from the dark Abyss." He was unable to suppress his anxious shaking and sweating. "Or don't. By gods, must be a lilim. Cursed boy, needs a priest." Of course. She thinks I'm possessed, haunted by demons and jinn! Ugh, can she give me a break? There's nothing wrong with me...well there's definitely something wrong, but I don't need a priest! Vand thought. Was what happened in the spring even real? It had to be...Vand had always felt outcast, but as he grew (in age), he started becoming more brooding. Perhaps it was simply a desire to be independent after being pitied and 'coddled' for so long, but it was something else...his 'lust for the grave,' was it? Could he really be wishing for death? All he really wanted to do was to be alone in peace, and quiet, and darkness...and to sleep.

Vand dreamt, he presumed, of a great void of blackness. He could still sense his own body, but nothing more, nothing on his person, no floor, ceiling, or wall. He felt not weightless, but as if he were suspended in mid-air. But, there's no air, he thought, breathing in nothing yet remaining alive. He felt a presence, and the 446 words came to mind.

"Wake up! It's dark again, we need to move!" Vand got up, covered in a cold sweat, even more moist than usual. After getting out of bed, he shook the water off of himself, and it sank into the floorboards. "I'll just ignore that," Maryam remarked. Soon enough, they were on camelback and heading towards Phoenix. Under the sorrowful Moon of Tears, Vand ruminated on his future. Obviously, he could never return to Beit-Tiemat. Its unique political status meant that no proper governorate would have reason to come after him, but still, it was the only place where he knew how to get back the Abyss. Back to the Abyss, he thought, I keep feeling...homesick. But I can never go back home. I never will. Yet still, either he would adapt to life on the Surface, or he would return underground. There was no way he could live alone, though. Maybe they were right back home, he would always depend on other people.

No!!! He had to be independent. He was an adult now, and adults don't need everyone to bend over backward for them when they shut down or freak out over nothing. He could find some way to make money, even if Maryam did owe him by being so rich. Am I crazy? No, no, I'm pretty much always right. There's nothing really wrong with me, it's everyone else that's crazy. The world was mad, and the Surface was madder. Mot is with us always, not just at birth or death. We are its literal children—No! Offspring. Styx is too busy with everyone else down there to care about little old us. His staunch belief helped ground him, and he ceased his worrying over the future. He read his precious tablet once more, taking a breath. Silence and darkness, take me in. Vand spent the rest of their journey to the city looking at the stars. They provided so much light, a level of light seen only in the most bioluminescent caverns of the Abyss. Moreover, they formed a dome around the world grander than the largest nether in his memory. That temple of Mot...he longed to return there, but his clan would surely visit likewise. Maybe he wasn't so different from them after all. Everybody up above the ground, or at least Maryam and her family, believed Mot to be an all-consuming demon. The only Human he had met that didn't despise Mot still thought of it that way, just in a positive light. Still, one day, he would have to tell them. After this is all over...after we rescue that prince. How is it that Maryam should be the one to rescue him, though? Should someone from Phoenix not have had the opportunity? Should the Wyrm not have devoured him? I bet he's a real jerk. Probably stuck up and snobbish. Vand imagined the Human prince devoured by an awesome Wyrm, dark and plumed. A small Wyrm, of course, but a Wyrm nonetheless, biting his throat and drinking his blood. Then, Vand felt horrible. Why did he think of such a thing? He put himself in the place of the prince. The prince of darkness, bit on the neck by a dark Wyrm, blood draining and life leaving him. That actually seems...exciting...which of course, means it would be overwhelming and terrible.

Before they entered the city, Vand heard just how alive it was. Constant chatter, too fast and too crowded for him to understand. He picked up on haggling, cheerful singing, and one or two professions of love. Vand could now see just how large the wall was next to him. Even Maryam seemed small next to it. It was as tall as the apex of the castle in Beit-Tiemat. What was the wall meant to keep out? Clearly, it wasn't keeping any Wyrms out. Well, a large enough Wyrm could simply destroy the city, but a small enough one could just fly over the wall and travel a larger street. That was likely what had happened to the prince. Prince...he was still lying about being a prince. He was a kind of prince, though; the prince of darkness. Nobody ever would understand what it was like, to never really feel alive, yet to never feel unfulfilled. He was entirely without ambition. All he wanted to do was meditate, play, and sleep, and all he wanted to be was calm and content. Changes and surprises just made him angry or sad. Vand now felt a great heat in his skull, and started twitching, scratching at himself. He had kept himself distracted from the chaos he was in by thinking of how bad things used to be, but now his memory of home lost its anger. Leading the camel through the city streets, Maryam stalwartly ignored Vand's behavior. They were passing homes, shops, stalls, and many people, staring at him as he passed. Most of them were Human, of course, and Vand saw a greater variety in Human form than the single family he had seen held. It would have been foolish of him to think Humans all looked the same, but he expected them to be more chromatic, that Maryam and her family were the exception. There was the occassional blue eye, but something about the talismans hanging over certain shops made him think blue eyes were considered special.

"Look, that's it!" Maryam exclaimed, finger pointed at a large sheet of paper plastered onto the side of a building, with writing in Cadmean on it, as well as a crude drawing of a...Wyrm? It sort of looked like a Kobold in its upright form, and its wings were missing. It was quite muscular, and plump too, with almost black, slightly indigo scales as well as blueish-black feathers. "An advertisement about the prince!" She read it aloud. "'Prince captured! Witness the drama of the Dark Wyrm! The action!' And its tonight in the arena!" Hmm...it almost seems like just a story. Should I tell her? No, it'll be safer to just let her figure it out herself. "So this must be it! They locked up the prince with a Wyrm in the arena, for blood sport! Oh, the Humanity—er, whatever," she said, glancing at Vand as she finished. No, I should at least give her a hint.

"I thought Wyrms were supposed to have wings...and be on four legs..." Vand commented. Dragons couldn't stand upright. They weren't Folk. Only Folk, and all Folk, were known to stand completely upright, with arms of some kind and legs of some kind. It was said the unifier among all peoples was back pain. Dragons, on the other hand, were not quite animal, not quite Folk, and not quite deity. They were somewhat divine, even having a penchant for creating life, but their offspring could never reproduce. Despite what some Surfacefolk thought, Kobolds were not born from a particularly powerful Wyrm in the depths of Hell. After all, they had warm blood, and no feathers!

"Hm. Strange...the king and queen are human, as is the crown prince, but this poster almost makes it seem like this Wyrm—or perhaps a Wyrmkin—is the prince! No, no, he is a human surely."

"Maybe it's his title in the arena?"

"No, no, the royal family would never allow that. We must see this battle at once, it's supposed to happen at Soulmoon, tonight." And so they went, Maryam asking several people for directions, who each gave them kindly while giving Vand a strange look. They must not have seen a Kobold before, but haven't they seen that gladiator with the dark scales...and feathers... The drawing had been crude, so Vand started to wonder what the mysterious gladiator really looked like. Perhaps it was merely a costume. The Frostmoon came out as he and Maryam traveled deeper into the city, where the buildings grew taller, and the pavement became smoother. Vand sighted a walled off area, some kind of courtyard. Banners of Cadmea were draped around it. Soon he sighted a gate inside. Hung above the gate, there was a talisman like the ones before, but rather than the deep, dark blue of those, with a round pupil and white iris, it was a cerulean circle with a slit-like pupil, with no sclera. Not a Human eye by far.

Inside the wall, it was clearly an arena. The edge of the courtyard was filled with places to sit, with a fence protecting the interior, set aside for sport. In the arena, Vand saw three Human men, armed with spears and armored, alongside the gladiator that had been so crudely portrayed on the poster. At once, he ran to the edge of the arena, Maryam following.

Maryam called out, "Which one of you is the prince?!" to the players. She wasn't exactly tactful, nor respectful of the divide between entertainment and audience. Her gaze was focused on the Humans. Vand, however, was more focused on the Wyrmkin man. His eyes were cerulean, clearly the model for the talisman on the entrance. His body was hefty in both fat, telling that he was well-fed, and muscle, showing he spent his time being active. He was much shorter than Maryam, Vand's head being about the height of his sternum. He had sparse blueish feathers, except at his chest, underarms, and legs, where he had plumes of them. He had a pair of horns that were a bit longer than Vand's. He was wearing nothing except for a white skirt, stomach hanging over the edge, that draped a bit over his knees. It was embroidered with gold patterns around the edges and fastened with fine pins. He wore as well a significant amount of jewelry. There were four rings, two on each hand, on the index and ring fingers. There was a gold bracelet on each of his wrists. He wore three chains, two gold, and one silver, with a pendant hanging from it. The pendant was a brilliant purple gemstone set in a silver frame. The man wore a royal sabre on his hip that had an onyx set in its hilt. There is no question, Vand thought.

"Surely, an intelligent young woman such as yourself does not need to ask such a question," the Wyrmkin spoke, irritatingly well-mannered. He leaned over the fence, took Maryam's metal-covered hand, and pressed his snout against it awkwardly. "It is I, Taniin Darkwyrm, eldest prince of Cadmea!"

"Aha! You're charming. I heard intelligence that you were in the clutches of a dragon, and I, Maryam et-Tiemat, had come to rescue you." Subtle...and it was only a rumor.

"Not since I was left for the merciful King and Queen to raise, seventeen years ago, on this day." He's my age?! He looked significantly older than he was, or perhaps everyone else was right for once, and Vand looked younger than his age.

Maryam became significantly less enthusiastic upon hearing Taniin's age. "Ah, so it is your birthday? You're coming of age? Today?" she asked.

"Well, yeah, but I'm not different than yesterday, I'm not." His posture shifted as he said it. "And I won't be different tomorrow. It's not a big change today, nope." Not a big change, it's the biggest change of his life! It was the biggest change of my life, and it was only a few days ago.

Vand blurted out, "How can you say that!" Taniin stared at him with awe, as did Maryam.

"And you would be?" he asked.

"This is Vand, a Kobold prince from deep in the Abyss." Well, whatever. I'm not even from deep in the Abyss.

"Well, Vand," Taniin said. He pressed his face against Vand's left cheek, then his right cheek, and continued: "I hope you stay for the battle. It's the main event of my coming-of-age, after all." Vand's face was hot, and he was ready to scold Taniin further, but he sensed a strange sense of melancholy in his voice. It was as if it didn't matter that the crown prince was becoming an adult. Shouldn't there be a great procession? Fanfare for the prince? Not this small event? The small size of the Emirate of Cadmea was no reason for a crown prince to have such a pathetic coming of age. Vand had almost as much fanfare when he became an adult, and he didn't stick around for long. Vand sat on the ground. The dirt was packed, and it almost reminded him of home. Maryam sat down next to him. They had a great view of the arena. The Soulmoon started to claim the sky. Soon enough, the duel began.

Taniin drew his sword, raising it with a fusion of might and poise. The three men began to charge at him. They all started...dancing? Then they stabbed at him. He effortlessly dodged each strike...but they were hardly even trying to hit him. He swung his sword with grace, yes, but his opponents threw themselves at the ground, one by one.

"The dark prince is victorious!" called out a referee, or rather, a director. There was applause. It was completely staged, and it was disappointing. Vand stood up, and drew his dagger from his hip.

"The dark prince is old enough to fight for real!" Vand shouted. He climbed up the fence and dropped over it. The defeated actors left the stage. Now, he was in the arena for real.