Mane-of-Night And The Dark Child's Descent - Chapter 5

Asor leads the way to the roof, as far away from the rest of the family as he can manage, where we're afforded an unobscured view of the night sky, and my first sight of the moon of Gara-Laras, a pale, glowing disk like so many others, but with an ominous oval smudge clinging to its edge, obscuring a section of its surface...

"That", Asor tells me, "is what we call 'The Dark Child'. One day, it appeared there, and The Curse came with it."

"You mentioned it before", I remind him, recalling one of our earliest meetings. "However, I don't... feel anything. No influence, no attraction - nothing that might explain what happened to me."

"Unfortunately, I can't offer any enlightenment", says Asor, regretfully. "It's not generally felt to be... well, lucky to stare at the moon, or The Dark Child, for too long. There are those who devote their lives to studying the moon, The Child and the stars - my uncle knows one of them, and I'm sure he'd be delighted to meet you, a creature from another world."

"It could be that going through the slip-way had an unpredicted, unpredictable effect", I propose. "In moving my body through space, through universes, residue from the shape-shifting magic I used was reactivated. I went through the mystical equivalent of a computer soft restart - I 'reset' to my previous state. With some thorough meditation, I should be able to come up with a proper answer."

"But before that, you should get some sleep", my friend advises me. "You've had a long day, and a difficult one at that."

"I'll do that", I tell him, "But first, I need to know about Zserreth - I don't want to get caught out should we meet again."

Asor looks uncomfortable, but eventually, he relents, and shares what he knows. "People like Zserreth are a source of great shame for us", I'm told. "As a race, we try our very best to remain civilised despite The Curse, but some are turning more to their animal side, apparently in response to the more aggressive tendencies of the Gara-Morsa - but that may just be an excuse."

"There have been less believable excuses for greater atrocities", I sigh. "Your world has managed to avoid such things - treasure that, while you can. The multiverse is becoming a harsher place these days."

"Even Wyridaen", says Asor, nodding solemnly. Wyridaen was his only refuge from the troubles of this, his world, and now, it too is blighted by conflict, and I can't help feeling I'm spoilt for choice as far as such refuges go. Whatever happens, Glitterthorn will surely find me another corner of reality where I can relax, unmolested, but Asor's people don't even have spaceships, and he doesn't have a godlike benefactor, who's prepared to reshape reality for my friend's entertainment.

I don't know what, if anything, I can do to put Wyridaen back the way it was - if there even is a Wyridaen left - but could I perhaps do something to make Gara-Laras a more peaceful world? Not all the Gara-Morsa are hateful and hostile, as I discovered out in the wilderness, and I might be able to approach them, maybe act as some kind of peace envoy - I may not have any scales, but I'm more like one of them than one of Asor's people...

"Could Zserreth and those like him be convinced not to attack the Gara-Morsa?", I wonder, out loud. There's no point in making peace on one side if the other is just going to continue the war.

"You'd have to go and ask...", begins Asor, then he cuts himself short, fearing that he might have given me a crazy idea. The idea, however, is already in place, and simmering, and exactly what I do about the whole "peace envoy" thing depends on how many legs I wake up with...

"We usually get up just before the sun rises", says my friend, the hint he drops so heavy that it could quite possibly punch a hole straight through to the centre of the planet. However, I'm not sure what his intention is - does he just want to get to his own bed, or is he hoping that I'll wake up with my common sense restored along with my powers? Whatever the truth is, I should get myself some rest - but if I can't sleep, there's always that meditation I considered earlier, and the answers that would provide would certainly help put my mind at ease.

We go back inside, and down to the ground floor, where the sleeping chambers are located, at the back of the house and at either end of opposing "wings" of the property, males - or in this case, male at one end, females at the other. Natyari shows me to one of the guest rooms, which her mother has prepared for me, but the question of sleep or meditation is answered before the girl's footsteps have moved out of hearing range - I lower myself onto the thick, soft cushion-like mattress, and sleep claims me, unopposed...

Ibarha Lhas-Tor was a junior evidence analyst for the Civic Security Division in Tol'Latla; a trusted position, but not one where excitement often came her way. Evidence analysis was hardly glamorous, investigating whatever material clues were brought in by the front-line officers of law, and interpreting biological samples, but for Ibarha, it was even worse - she rarely got anywhere near the real evidence, her duties restricted to cleaning tools and glassware, or preparing some of the more commonly used chemical solutions. On the odd occasion, when her superiors were particularly busy, she might possibly be called upon to catalogue some victim's personal property, some of which might show signs of a gruesome, and... exciting demise...

None of Ibarha's work colleagues knew, however, that she got her excitement elsewhere, after work. When the moon was right, or arrangements had been made in advance, she would head out into the night, to a concealed hollow where other Gara-Morsa would gather, in costumes reminiscent of ancient tribesfolk, mostly animal hides and feathers, but sometimes with more modern elements incorporated, some with faces painted in animal-like designs, others wearing masks, crafted to resemble those they had come to worship.

They would dance around the camp fire, have wild, reckless sexual encounters in the shadows, all in the hope that one of the "Spirits", the Children of The Forest - the literal translation of "Gara-Laserma" - would grace the gathering with their presence...

The dancing was very much Ibarha's activity of choice, inspired by the stories written by one of the Spirits, telling of his fascinating adventures on another world. The stories were illegal in Gara-Morsa territory, but Ibarha did not let that put her off, nor did she entertain any doubts about the veracity of the tales - she just wished she was the Spirit's companion in those adventures, instead of the black-haired other-worlder.

Tonight, however, was special. Tonight was going to be different, and Ibarha had been preparing for it for nearly two moon-cycles. She had finally found what she needed, but it had taken until now for her to build up the necessary inner courage.

When she arrived at the Spirits' Grove, the girl went through the usual routine, answering questions about the Security Division, and whether they had started investigating the group's activities yet. She told them she was unaware of any investigations at present, but that was no surprise as "the military have become more active recently, and just today, Bralzis had an officer pay him a visit - and after the officer left, Bralzis wore an expression that made you think someone in his family had died."

"That is not good news", murmured the High Priest, from behind his Gara-Laserma mask. "If military operations increase in the area, the Spirits could be threatened. We must all be vigilant, and watch for soldiers moving into the forest - the Spirits must be warned."

The High Priest placed an arm about Ibarha's shoulders, and took her to one side, away from the others. "You have done well, child", he told her. "You have earned a great honour - will you dance around the fire for the Spirits?"

This night had just exceeded the girl's wildest dreams. Struck dumb, she nodded vigorously, and allowed the High Priest's attendants to lead her away, and undress her - but before they started to apply the ceremonial body-paint, she found her voice again, and asked them to wait a moment. "There - there's something I want to do", she said to them. "Something I want to wear - I think the Spirits will like them."

Murmurs rose around Ibarha as she made her way to the ceremonial fire - murmurs of approval as they saw what she was wearing. After a long, and rather nervous search, Ibarha had at last found a pair of long, black synthetic leather boots, as close as she could manage to those worn by the companion of the Spirit Asor in the forbidden stories...

The girl trembled inside the thigh-length glossy boots as she approached the fire, but her confidence grew as she stepped, alone, into its light and warmth. The music started, some way off in the shadows, and Ibarha started to sway in time to it, movements mimicking the surging flames. It didn't take her long to become hypnotised by the fire, and intoxicated by the shameless thrill welling up from the primal depths of her being, which seemed to originate from somewhere down inside her boots - she wondered, before she lost all sense of time, place and self, whether Asor's companion had ever felt the same.

The music stopped. Ibarha performed another half-circle around the fire before she realised there was nothing to dance to but the rhythm of her own heart - then a cold shudder went through her as the significance of the silence dawned on her. Now, she would be taken to the sacred rock, its surface painted with ancient symbols and draped with animal skins, where a number of specially-selected followers of the Spirits would perform ritual sex with her - and suddenly the inner fire to which she'd surrendered was extinguished as the shiver reached the soles of her boots...

"We are blessed", called out the High Priest, in the language of the Gara-Laserma, and the eyes of all were turned upwards, into the darkness behind the dancer. Ibarha turned slowly, and a childlike gasp bubbled up from inside her as her gaze came upon a tall shape, standing in the fire-brightened half-shadows - a golden-skinned female Spirit.

"Don't stop for me, little one", said the awe-inspiring creatures, but Ibarha couldn't help herself as she fell to her knees, tears of joy streaming down her painted face.

This was the happiest night of her life.

Chaa'ress of the Gara-Laserma was rather disappointed.

She enjoyed watching the Gara-Morsa and their amusing attempts to "worship the Spirits", in particular the rituals that usually ended with several males mating with a single female, but by making her presence known, she had distracted the "worshippers" from their self-indulgent games, and she very much doubted she would get to see the dancer in long black boots being used by the males... unless she demanded it.

Not many of the Cursed knew about the Gara-Morsa cult, and even fewer approved. Zserreth, the unelected leader of the "Wild Herd", was generally opposed to any involvement with the Gara-Morsa, except to treat them as prey, but earlier in the day, he had approached Chaa'ress, one of the higher-ranking females in the Herd, and asked her to make use of her links to the Gara-Morsa to help him with a very special task - one that required the involvement of beings with hands, and the ability to climb trees...

Chaa'ress had several trusted Gara-Morsa "followers" to whom she had revealed herself, and they kept themselves in constant readiness for her call, but it was not exactly ideal to make contact with them during the day. Zserreth had been quite insistent, however, and one didn't disappoint the "Master of the Herd", even when it transpired that the "important task" was the retrieval of some girl's clothes and other property - but once Chaa'ress saw the recovered items, the reason for the urgency became quite clear. Asor's companion from the stories, the small, slender female with an intense love of boots, and clearly a major source of inspiration for the dancer, had arrived on Gara-Laras.

What that might lead to, Chaa'ress couldn't begin to speculate, and any such thoughts were exiled from her mind when she heard what the "worshippers", and particularly the dancer, Ibarha, had to tell her. Her voice trembling in fear and awe, almost into incoherence as the "Spirit" sat upon the sacred rock and looked down upon her, the painted girl passed on her news about the military officer's visit to the Civic Defence headquarters. "I... I don't know what any of it means, Great Spirit", mumbled the girl, her words even more muffled as she flatly refused to look up at Chaa'ress, "but we fear that you and the other Children of The Forest may soon be in danger."

That statement left Chaa'ress in a difficult position - to admit any kind of weakness would dilute the air of godhood that inspired these Gara-Morsa to worship her people, but without inside information from the Gara-Morsa, the Gara-Laserma might find themselves in a dangerously vulnerable position. "We are aware of increased activity around the military base", she said, quite truthfully, "and the news that your warriors and your civic defenders may be collaborating to some unknown end concerns us. You must continue to watch, and listen - prove yourselves worthy to worship us..."

...and show Zserreth you're worthy to keep on living, she told herself. The Master of The Wild Herd had to hear this news, of that there was no doubt, but Chaa'ress was not looking forward to hearing what action Zserreth would take in response, for she expected it would come somewhere between audacious and vicious.

There was, of course, ever possibility that such a response would be well deserved, if the Gara-Morsa had violence of their own in mind.

I'm as refreshed as I can be when Natyari comes to my room to wake me, as the approach of daybreak starts to dilute the night, casting shades of dark blue and deep purple across the sky. Reluctantly, I wriggle out of my boots, and draped in my borrowed dressing gown, I venture out into the welcoming hall at the front of the house, and outside onto the ramp that leads down to the gravel path that leads around the fountain, and between the trees towards the street. Elsewhere, beyond the trees, and across the road, the silence of approaching dawn is being interrupted by sounds of movement, as other families prepare to be transformed...

The amber rays of early sun shine as narrow, almost laser-like beams through the perimeter of trees, and The Curse does its work on Asor and Soramma, forcing them down on all fours, hands and feet becoming hooves, tails sprouting from the bases of their spines, horns stretching out like slender, curved swords from the backs of their skulls as their faces become the muzzles of the great equine creatures I've come to know far better than their natural forms.

I, on the other hand, feel and experience nothing - except for the particularly uncomfortable sensation of cold feet on the bare stone of the ramp. My body does not change - I don't grow hooves, a horse's face, or a tail; I remain exclusively Mane-of-Night, Child of Mystalorn, and a great sigh of relief bursts from me, my head dipping so that my chin very nearly touches my chest. My ordeal was a one-off incident, and I am truly myself again...

...but not entirely.

"I'll get you your clothes", says Natyari, the only other who has remained unaffected by the rising sun, and I send a grateful smile after her. After all, Mane-of-Night is only truly Mane-of-Night when she has her boots on...

...and after that, I can at last get to work. I can attempt to contact my friends, in Dominion or back on Wyridaen, and then I can try to set Gara-Laras on the path to lasting peace. After the cheerful and courteous welcome I've received from Asor's family, and the shelter and support they've provided, it's the least I can do.

...to be continued...

Posted at 22:32 on 28.04.2009


~ o O o ~


Previously...
Mane-of-Night And The Watcher From Beyond - Chapter 1 - 21.06.2009
Mane-of-Night And The Dark Child's Descent - Chapter 14 - 17.05.2009
Mane-of-Night And The Dark Child's Descent - Chapter 13 - 15.05.2009
Mane-of-Night And The Dark Child's Descent - Chapter 12 - 13.05.2009
Mane-of-Night And The Dark Child's Descent - Chapter 11 - 11.05.2009