from the valley of lost memories
This is a continuation from the article below. So may be you should read that first, the one named 'the contract in blood'.
The revelation came down upon me like waves of the sea coming down on the shore.
I was on my way to the other world. They call it heaven. They call it hell. They call it netherworld. So many names. Worlds and Gods unseen have many names, to suit our ever-so-crumbling, frail faith. I must have been void of emotions, since I don't remember being either happy or sad to go the other world. I have no memory of what it felt like and what the surroundings looked like. No memory of how long I have been in that state. No memory of what moment, that something snapped. Something struck a chord in me. A chord the existence of which I was not even aware of. I saw. I saw a light. Oh no. It was not Him! Not the God nor His Son. A firefly. Suddenly, there was desire swelling in me. It grew as a candle that comes to life when lit. But it grew from inside the darkness. Almost as if, the darkness has been caring for it, nursing and nurturing it. No there is no doubt about it. And as desire coursed through every inch of my numb nerves, I remembered. I remembered I have to follow the firefly. My muscles twitched and before I knew, I was moving. I had a will. But I had no control over it. The will had a life of its own. I walked into a land soaked with blood. No. It was drenched with blood. The reeking odour of the alkalic blood was nauseating. I almost bowled over, at first. Then I got used to it. Then I got high on it. I saw the crimson red sun. I wondered if it was the colour of the sun or of the blood splattered over. Here and there, were chunks of meat twitching. I was not sure if I was walking on the land, for it was so soft, mushy and sticky from all that blood, it could as well have been a layer of flesh. Here and there were bones sticking out. Bones with cleanly cut edges.
A flash of light sought my attention to a group of demons closing in a circle. Fifteen feet tall beasts. A few had risen from the blood soaked ground just before I reached. They were a few hundreds. Some had long heavy tails. Some had scales on their body. Some were hairy. No. Not anything like the images of demons imagined by a child when his mother scares him to sleep. Some had horns. Horns that rose from the sides of head, shoulders, elbows, ankles. Some had many limbs. Fangs. Long claws. Not all of them were ugly though. The ugly ones were clumsy. But the handsome and the beautiful ones were very swift and skillful. The demons must be very heavy and powerful. When they ran, I could feel the land shiver. They all had weapons. Swords, axes, clubs.. weapons of all kinds. Were they fighting themselves? It would not be a surprise. They are so brutal. Savages. Strong and fast savages. But no. They were not fighting themselves, for a moment later I saw the warrior. Or rather a part of him. Wings. He had wings! I saw the wings raised above. The warrior must be pretty tall too, But I could not see him. I saw only the wings. Black wings dripping with scarlet red blood. I heard words. A spell being chanted. A strange language but the spell resonated in me. A female voice. Then I saw thunder being wielded in a hand striking down half the legion in a moment. It should have made me shudder. When I think about it now, it does. More beasts fell. The dusk was approaching fast. And then I saw the silhouette of the warrior against the setting sun; the silhouette of a warrior who moved so fast, my eyes could not catch up with the movements. There was a brisk movement in the wings and the two hands and the next I saw was two beasts slain by the wings, one beast with its head cut off and the other with its heart plunged out by bare hands. I felt the wrath with which that heart was squashed. But deep inside I felt grief. The grief was not mine. It was only when I understood, that I was abe to see. I saw the sword, the majestic sword in such skillful hands. I saw the warrior in full glory. In her full glory. The sword was long and gracefully thin. It was red with blood dripping from it. And where there was no blood, there was nothing. It was a invisible sword, perhaps. She was about thirteen feet tall. She jerked the blade free of blood. She dropped the punctured heart from her other hand. Her hands were red from blood. But she had no scratch. She is unwounded. Unwounded despite fighting with so many demons. Her skin was black. Her eyes red. She had elven ears and her hair was .. blue! The colour of Lapis Lazuli, that blended in harmony with the tan of her skin, and yet, it stood out.
For a brief moment my eyes met hers. She was searching. When she saw me, her expression changed. She felt relieved. But not relaxed. Her hands kept killing. With every beast that she slew, blood spilled over her. She did not wince. Not once. Two more demons left; charging at her madly. It is not much for a warrior who killed, I don't know how many, thousands. But she faltered. She thrust her sword in the ground and rested her weight on it. 'No! No! Not now. Don't give in now', screamed my heart with in me. But she would not move. Her eyelids came down closing. 'No. Not now', I whispered. Before I knew, I was chanting. How could I know any spells. Who am I? A streak of pleasure throbbed against its prison walls inside my heart as I watched the two demons crumble down to dust in their run.
The warrior fell to her knees, her chin resting on the back of her palms, placed on the hilt of the sword. I began walking towards her. Its a strange land, I noticed then. A flat land stretching as far as your eyes could see. The entire expanse drenched in blood. I walked across that little stretch between me and the warrior. Three feet away from her I stopped and wondered if she shrank to my height or if I grew almost as tall as her. For I have nothing to judge which, and I can see she is not too tall now. Her sword seemed shorter than earlier, too. Some emotion .. striking its fists against the walls of my heart. Pounding. But I could not recognise what emotion it is. Its as though, the emotion was locked away in a prison. The same prison against which throbbed the pleasure of spelling magic. I stood beside her, bent low, took a hand from under her chin and put it over my shoulder, across my neck. When I touched her, her skin changed to a fairer complexion. I was preparing myself to lift her to her feet. For a warrior who fought those several, save two, demons, she was unusually light. So light, I lost my balance out of over expectation. I felt foolish. What was I thinking. A winged creature ought to be light. I got her on her feet and walked with almost all her weight on me. She would not let go her sword and dragged it along.
Her face was so close to mine. She was beautiful. I wanted to see her more clearly. Take in all the details. I turned to see her. That imprisoned emotion pounding hard. What is it? What is happening to me? Who am I? I pressed my lips against her cheek. Then I forced myself to draw back. What am I doing? A tiny droplet coursed down her eye. I raised my hand to wipe it off. I rubbed away the droplet, but left behind blood. Surprised I look at my hand. My wrist is cut. When did it happen? How? I looked at her face again and saw her looking at me through the corner of her eyes. It started pouring from above. As the rain trickled down her face washing away the blood, she licked it off and drank. The prison inside me broke open. I stopped walking. I closed my eyes. Yet, I could see. I could see her strength coming back. I could see her wings washed clean. I saw her blade draw back inside the cut on her wrist. I saw her wrist heal. She no longer leaned on me. She wound her strong hands across me. I heard the flutter of feathers as she stretched her wings. The flutter of feathers. The sound I have been waiting for all my life. I opened my eyes to see us flying. Flying in a different world. A world with trees and mountains and birds.
We sat on a tall hill. A very tall hill. The wind was blowing against my face. I could hear the ruffle of feathers in her wings. She held them outstretched. I could feel it with in me. She was relishing the wind. But I could also see tears in her eyes.
"You should go back", she said
"Not without you"
"I will come with you, Aeon"
It felt like a fragment of memory. An alien fragment of memory. It was so different it did not feel like mine.
"Aeon? My name is Jade", I said. Raven was sitting across the branch over the lake. She was watching the fish.
"Your name is Aeon. I named you", she asserted.
Well, thats another story.
When Raven was cursed to stay in Eternity, the magic distorted, as it always does around her. When Raven landed, a few, I mean a few hundred, demons rose from the ground. No matter how many times she killed them, they kept rising from the dead. The curse of eternity could be broken, but Raven has sworn to never use magic. There are two other ways to break the curse: the one who cast the spell must withdraw, but that would not have worked well with magic distorting around Raven. The other way is to somehow put an object that does not belong to the Eternity. I might have been that object. There is more to me, but it need not be talked about now. With my arrival, the curse broke. Her strength was already failing. She summoned the lightning through me.
The contract? Oh! the contract. Right. She drank my blood I accidentally rubbed on her cheek. That is the contract and this is the story. Story of the contract in blood, of the missing fragment of memory.
Ravene Maternum Aeon.
Or just call me Jade.
The revelation came down upon me like waves of the sea coming down on the shore.
I was on my way to the other world. They call it heaven. They call it hell. They call it netherworld. So many names. Worlds and Gods unseen have many names, to suit our ever-so-crumbling, frail faith. I must have been void of emotions, since I don't remember being either happy or sad to go the other world. I have no memory of what it felt like and what the surroundings looked like. No memory of how long I have been in that state. No memory of what moment, that something snapped. Something struck a chord in me. A chord the existence of which I was not even aware of. I saw. I saw a light. Oh no. It was not Him! Not the God nor His Son. A firefly. Suddenly, there was desire swelling in me. It grew as a candle that comes to life when lit. But it grew from inside the darkness. Almost as if, the darkness has been caring for it, nursing and nurturing it. No there is no doubt about it. And as desire coursed through every inch of my numb nerves, I remembered. I remembered I have to follow the firefly. My muscles twitched and before I knew, I was moving. I had a will. But I had no control over it. The will had a life of its own. I walked into a land soaked with blood. No. It was drenched with blood. The reeking odour of the alkalic blood was nauseating. I almost bowled over, at first. Then I got used to it. Then I got high on it. I saw the crimson red sun. I wondered if it was the colour of the sun or of the blood splattered over. Here and there, were chunks of meat twitching. I was not sure if I was walking on the land, for it was so soft, mushy and sticky from all that blood, it could as well have been a layer of flesh. Here and there were bones sticking out. Bones with cleanly cut edges.
A flash of light sought my attention to a group of demons closing in a circle. Fifteen feet tall beasts. A few had risen from the blood soaked ground just before I reached. They were a few hundreds. Some had long heavy tails. Some had scales on their body. Some were hairy. No. Not anything like the images of demons imagined by a child when his mother scares him to sleep. Some had horns. Horns that rose from the sides of head, shoulders, elbows, ankles. Some had many limbs. Fangs. Long claws. Not all of them were ugly though. The ugly ones were clumsy. But the handsome and the beautiful ones were very swift and skillful. The demons must be very heavy and powerful. When they ran, I could feel the land shiver. They all had weapons. Swords, axes, clubs.. weapons of all kinds. Were they fighting themselves? It would not be a surprise. They are so brutal. Savages. Strong and fast savages. But no. They were not fighting themselves, for a moment later I saw the warrior. Or rather a part of him. Wings. He had wings! I saw the wings raised above. The warrior must be pretty tall too, But I could not see him. I saw only the wings. Black wings dripping with scarlet red blood. I heard words. A spell being chanted. A strange language but the spell resonated in me. A female voice. Then I saw thunder being wielded in a hand striking down half the legion in a moment. It should have made me shudder. When I think about it now, it does. More beasts fell. The dusk was approaching fast. And then I saw the silhouette of the warrior against the setting sun; the silhouette of a warrior who moved so fast, my eyes could not catch up with the movements. There was a brisk movement in the wings and the two hands and the next I saw was two beasts slain by the wings, one beast with its head cut off and the other with its heart plunged out by bare hands. I felt the wrath with which that heart was squashed. But deep inside I felt grief. The grief was not mine. It was only when I understood, that I was abe to see. I saw the sword, the majestic sword in such skillful hands. I saw the warrior in full glory. In her full glory. The sword was long and gracefully thin. It was red with blood dripping from it. And where there was no blood, there was nothing. It was a invisible sword, perhaps. She was about thirteen feet tall. She jerked the blade free of blood. She dropped the punctured heart from her other hand. Her hands were red from blood. But she had no scratch. She is unwounded. Unwounded despite fighting with so many demons. Her skin was black. Her eyes red. She had elven ears and her hair was .. blue! The colour of Lapis Lazuli, that blended in harmony with the tan of her skin, and yet, it stood out.
For a brief moment my eyes met hers. She was searching. When she saw me, her expression changed. She felt relieved. But not relaxed. Her hands kept killing. With every beast that she slew, blood spilled over her. She did not wince. Not once. Two more demons left; charging at her madly. It is not much for a warrior who killed, I don't know how many, thousands. But she faltered. She thrust her sword in the ground and rested her weight on it. 'No! No! Not now. Don't give in now', screamed my heart with in me. But she would not move. Her eyelids came down closing. 'No. Not now', I whispered. Before I knew, I was chanting. How could I know any spells. Who am I? A streak of pleasure throbbed against its prison walls inside my heart as I watched the two demons crumble down to dust in their run.
The warrior fell to her knees, her chin resting on the back of her palms, placed on the hilt of the sword. I began walking towards her. Its a strange land, I noticed then. A flat land stretching as far as your eyes could see. The entire expanse drenched in blood. I walked across that little stretch between me and the warrior. Three feet away from her I stopped and wondered if she shrank to my height or if I grew almost as tall as her. For I have nothing to judge which, and I can see she is not too tall now. Her sword seemed shorter than earlier, too. Some emotion .. striking its fists against the walls of my heart. Pounding. But I could not recognise what emotion it is. Its as though, the emotion was locked away in a prison. The same prison against which throbbed the pleasure of spelling magic. I stood beside her, bent low, took a hand from under her chin and put it over my shoulder, across my neck. When I touched her, her skin changed to a fairer complexion. I was preparing myself to lift her to her feet. For a warrior who fought those several, save two, demons, she was unusually light. So light, I lost my balance out of over expectation. I felt foolish. What was I thinking. A winged creature ought to be light. I got her on her feet and walked with almost all her weight on me. She would not let go her sword and dragged it along.
Her face was so close to mine. She was beautiful. I wanted to see her more clearly. Take in all the details. I turned to see her. That imprisoned emotion pounding hard. What is it? What is happening to me? Who am I? I pressed my lips against her cheek. Then I forced myself to draw back. What am I doing? A tiny droplet coursed down her eye. I raised my hand to wipe it off. I rubbed away the droplet, but left behind blood. Surprised I look at my hand. My wrist is cut. When did it happen? How? I looked at her face again and saw her looking at me through the corner of her eyes. It started pouring from above. As the rain trickled down her face washing away the blood, she licked it off and drank. The prison inside me broke open. I stopped walking. I closed my eyes. Yet, I could see. I could see her strength coming back. I could see her wings washed clean. I saw her blade draw back inside the cut on her wrist. I saw her wrist heal. She no longer leaned on me. She wound her strong hands across me. I heard the flutter of feathers as she stretched her wings. The flutter of feathers. The sound I have been waiting for all my life. I opened my eyes to see us flying. Flying in a different world. A world with trees and mountains and birds.
We sat on a tall hill. A very tall hill. The wind was blowing against my face. I could hear the ruffle of feathers in her wings. She held them outstretched. I could feel it with in me. She was relishing the wind. But I could also see tears in her eyes.
"You should go back", she said
"Not without you"
"I will come with you, Aeon"
It felt like a fragment of memory. An alien fragment of memory. It was so different it did not feel like mine.
"Aeon? My name is Jade", I said. Raven was sitting across the branch over the lake. She was watching the fish.
"Your name is Aeon. I named you", she asserted.
Well, thats another story.
When Raven was cursed to stay in Eternity, the magic distorted, as it always does around her. When Raven landed, a few, I mean a few hundred, demons rose from the ground. No matter how many times she killed them, they kept rising from the dead. The curse of eternity could be broken, but Raven has sworn to never use magic. There are two other ways to break the curse: the one who cast the spell must withdraw, but that would not have worked well with magic distorting around Raven. The other way is to somehow put an object that does not belong to the Eternity. I might have been that object. There is more to me, but it need not be talked about now. With my arrival, the curse broke. Her strength was already failing. She summoned the lightning through me.
The contract? Oh! the contract. Right. She drank my blood I accidentally rubbed on her cheek. That is the contract and this is the story. Story of the contract in blood, of the missing fragment of memory.
Ravene Maternum Aeon.
Or just call me Jade.
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