A Sleeping God

Sidrah hurried along the dirt path, as though slowing down would bring the tears out. Not that she would be able to tell, not with those heavy drops of rain against her face, that cold mist washing the world away.

Damn him. Gods damn him.

If only she could fly away from it all. She lifted her head, peered into the storm clouds so high above the wavering trees, dark and angry like boiling water. Defiant. The rain could not hide the sky, and the sky could not hide the stars. Not from her.

One day, once she had her own starship, she would see the clouds from the other side, and Kesser wouldn’t be there to hold her down anymore.

Even without seeing the bend, Sidrah knew she neared home. Here, the path would split, and she would not be far from the shore where her house lay. Through the trees, she could see the mast of her mother’s fishing boat. What would her mother think, when she came home on the verge of tears without the bread she had promised? The pantry was already near empty. Cured fish and dried fruit could only last them so long.

Sidrah crossed the bend. The boat mast disappeared behind branch and leaf. She did not slow down. Home… home could wait.

The rain kept falling, and as lighting began to arc from the sky in great flashes, the path grew ragged and untrodden. She no longer recognized the woods here, nor the curve of the gravel beach. However, she was certain it was no longer only rain that presently streamed down her face. Rain was not warm. Rain did not taste of salt.

Damn the Duke to hell, and Callum with him.

Ahead, the path ended.

Sidrah did not know this. Her foot caught against something hard, and she fell into the ferns.

For a time she lay there, sniffling, letting the rain fall on her, feeling not unlike the muck on an uncleaned fish-net.

Lightning fell. Thunder struck. And suddenly, she felt a presence with her.

“Mother?” She croaked, lifting her head. But it couldn’t be.

She pulled herself to her feet, brushed the mud off her dress, and turned to find nothing there. It was only the forest, and the rain, the leaves and pine needles and ferns.

The presence remained.

She searched about for what she had tripped on, and found something jutting out of the ground. A jagged stone, jet black yet iridescent in many colours under the silver light. She kicked it; the stone did not move. Brushing aside the dirt with her shoe, she found many more, a trail of fragments and chunks. Numb and cold, she followed them, and found herself standing upon the beach.

Round pebbles of gravel sloped into lapping waves, foaming from a sea of deep blue. The horizon was a line of dark grey. The presence seemed to keep her company, and so Sidrah stood there, shivering, taking in the view through clouded eyes.

I KNOW… YOUR PAIN.

“What?” Sidrah frantically looked around the hills behind and ocean ahead. “What was that?”

YOU… WANT TO BE FREE.

“Who are you?”

The presence drew closer. An icy breeze blew by. Slowly, the rain faded to thin mist.

Like the mist, a mounting sense of dread washed over Sidrah. She turned around once more, and found a towering pillar of that iridescent black stone mere paces away, reaching into the sky.

She gasped. That hadn’t been there before. Had it?

The pillar seemed nearly the height of a tree, perhaps taller. Scattered about its base were more stones like the one she had tripped on. Heart still racing, she took a step toward the pillar, then another, all the while aware of the presence by her side.

This isn’t real. I am dreaming.

THIS HAS ALWAYS BEEN REAL.

Sidrah stopped in her tracks, tense with dread, facing the presence.

“Sh-show yourself!” She stammered, standing her ground. “You can’t hide forever!”

I AM ALREADY SHOWING MYSELF.

Sidrah looked to the pillar.

“You’re…”

Invisibly, the presence nodded.

Sidrah knelt down by the pillar, then placed her hand on its smooth, cool surface.

A vision came to her with a flash of blue light. She was standing upon a great wooden ship, with crashing waves and open ocean all around. Several unfurled sails rose above her head, and atop the highest one, a fearsome flag rippled in the salty wind. And then daylight faded and gave way to night, the Silver River coming into view behind parting clouds. A lone waxing moon rose above the horizon, a small silver disc unlike Mimas or Lumas, mottled in grey seas and bright craters.

The vision faded away. Sidrah opened her eyes, and found her palm no longer against the pillar, but clutching something small and sharp. The rain had stopped. She opened her hand to find a small crescent moon of iridescent black stone.

She looked up at the pillar. “What is it?”

AN EARRING OF VOIDSTONE. A… CATALYST. OF FREEDOM.

“Why?”

I FELT A FIRE IN THE SKY THAT ROUSED ME FROM SLEEP. I CAN SLUMBER NO LONGER.

“Why me? Who are you?”

I MUST HIDE. BUT THE EARRING IS PART OF ME, AND YOU NEED NOT HIDE.

The presence suddenly drifted behind Sidrah. She turned to it, and ever so briefly caught a crimson shimmer in the air, a twisting of the light. But when she looked back towards the pillar, it was no longer there, merely a patch of gravel just like the rest of the beach. She glanced down at the earring in her hand.

“Wait, come back!”

Silence. The pillar did not return, and neither did the presence.

“How… how do I pierce my ear?”