Emergence
Book One of Archsussa Melissa
By Adrienne Gordon
Copyright 2011 Adrienne Gordon
Through the rubble and ruin of the last levitating city Melissa Drusciana scurried, hunched over, darting in and out of narrow crawlspaces and slime-ridden, foul-smelling igra tunnels, cursing her long, red hair as it kept getting snagged along the way. Her left arm was badly singed -- almost up to her shoulder -- yet still she held fast to the thick leather satchel which contained the heavy glass orb known as the Centric Sphere.
An explosion rocked the firmament, slamming her meager frame into unyielding stone. The dust made her sneeze, and she slouched down, tired and beaten, wondering if she should press on.
I’ve lost so much; my home, my little huffoi -- and all my friends. She wept bitter tears, thinking on all her friends at school. All she had seen was the building collapse, but heard nothing about their fate. Where are you Rachel?
A brief tremor brought down a wall near her. She screamed, wishing, hoping there was someone that could help.
But there’s no one now, except me. I must do it now . . . I must! She placed her hands on the cold surface of the Sphere, and in a harsh whisper spoke the words her brother Toby gave her long ago. “Ti dioma farra Darian!”
The Sphere remained dark, and she sobbed quietly. For a minute she thought on her fourteenth birthday celebration, which was to be in two weeks. She may not have had family, but she had a plethora of friends who were planning something special.
I guess I’ll never know what it was.
“You’re not even remotely strong enough to summon back the dead, dear child!” yelled the Freilux, his booming voice echoing through the broken halls of the Levitating City called Imathrin. “Where are you, my sweet treat? The time for running is over; submit to my will, dear one, return the Sphere and death shall be quick!”
She knew his lies. He had been lying to her and the world since she was barely twelve, when her father fell gravely ill and relinquished all responsibilities to him. So often the Freilux would praise her in public, only to corner her in private with leering eyes and a disgusting firmness between his leviathan legs.
There would be no death for me, she thought. He would keep me chained, and do what he has sought to do to me since my father died. She tightly closed the satchel, pulling hard on the thin leather cord, and pressed it close into her chest. One day, I will possess the skill to bring you back, father. She wrapped the fabric of the satchel tightly around her wrist, so it hung close to her arm. It hurt, but she didn’t wince or cry out.
“Dear one . . ,” cooed the Freilux gently, “food and bath wait for you. All it takes is but a word, and your running can come to an end. Don’t make me release the igra!”
Her eyes darted to a nearby igra tunnel. She had only seen dead ones in her travels, but even they were fearsome to look at. Thick skinned, the size of a boy, with yawning chasms for mouths that were ringed with talons for teeth, she heard of the fire they could channel out of their eyes, and their terrible speed.
No. I must move on. My father may have given up, but I will not.
Out onto the field of Xuil ran Melissa, wishing she could pause to soak in the light of the brilliant sun. She could remember playing so many games there, learning the fundamentals of the game of nuvia from instructor after instructor. She side-stepped a large boulder she had tripped over countless times before, and instinctively glanced back to see if anyone was gaining on her.
It’s not a game this time, and I can’t quit running just because I’m tired.
She was beyond tired, wearing a thin pink tattered dressing gown. When the Second Apocalypse ripped across the Levitating Cities, she didn’t have time to think about how to dress. She only followed her brother’s instructions, grabbed the Sphere, and ran.
Yet where are you, brother? Slowly, she came to a stop, closed her eyes, and stretched out her hands, trying to feel for something. “Toby,” she yelled, “where are you? I’m here -- I need you to help me!”
A rumble came from whence she came; the sound of debris pushed aside by hundreds of angry claws.
“Toby,” she screamed desperately, “you said you’d be here, you said you’d help me!” She opened her eyes, crying. Was it all just a dream? The things you told me to learn, your need for me to steal the Sphere?
Her heart sunk low, as she despaired. The thought of dying alone filled her mind, and she dearly wished to see her friends again. She began to cry, wondering what fate befell them.
I hope they died quickly. I hope I get to see them when --
“Melissa -- over here!”
“Toby!” she cried with glee.
“You’re almost to the portal,” said her brother mentally. Melissa was terrified, but felt and immense relief hearing his voice after so long. “Now do as I told you; dim your sight, and search for the ribbon of white.”
“Dim your sight, search for the white,” she intoned. Behind her -- seemingly all around her, the thundering of hooves could be heard. Though she was no longer a child, her childish fears forced her eyes fully open, and she could see a wide ring of igra bounding across the scorched field towards her. They had broken through the rubble and were whipped into a frenzy by an unseen force. The air around her grew hot and reeked of sulfur as their hateful gaze was focused on her.
“Melissa!” yelled Toby, “forget about them and focus on the portal. You can see it, you can smell it, you can taste it.”
I . . . can taste it . . . It tasted bitter on her tongue, like medicine her mother once gave her. I can smell it . . . it was acrid, almost like the smoke from the burning of dheppa leaves.
“Raise your hand,” said Toby calmly, “and push aside the curtains of the world.”
She did, anxious at first as she felt nothing, but after a few seconds air rippled like the surface of a running stream. The burning was also getting stronger, as well as the rumble of the igra. They started to shriek like tortured infants, manifesting a painful sound that buzzed like static though her thoughts.
Suddenly, something pressed just behind her.
“My sweet treat,” cooed the Freilux, “you’ve made it so easy for me to find you.”
“Come on, Melissa!” yelled Toby.
“I’m trying,” she whimpered, as the Freilux’s form coalesced. She could smell the stench of his ancient bloated body, made pungent within his rolls of fat, and could hear him licking his lips as if preparing for a feast. She pressed forward even harder, trying to part the ribbon so she could press through.
“I can see your hand,” said Toby, “now follow it through. Calmly, and confidently, like you have done this a thousand times before.”
“But this is only my second time,” she moaned, as the crunch of grass could be heard behind her. The Freilux’s shadow was growing darker, and she swore she could even hear his breathing.
“Just stand still, my dear one,” whispered the Freilux, “and I will make it all better . . .”
She pressed forward, moving her right leg into the ribbon. It was cold and felt wet, like going into a pool that wasn’t yet heated by firespheres. Almost half her body was inside, but not the half which held the Centric Sphere. And it was on that left arm that she felt the Freilux’s grasp settle.
“It’s so good to feel you again. Am I really that bad, that repulsive?” The Freilux ran his rough, calloused hand up and down her forearm. For a second she felt a pain, as if he touched a newly-formed bruise, but she saw no blemish. “Perhaps I am! I love the corpulence of my body; delight in the rolling landscape that is me! For my power, my title forces me on those I wish, and they must submit.” He grabbed her arm tightly, making her wince with pain, and she knew he had made it completely through. “I don’t break
people; I make them break themselves. And when they are broken, I delight in forcing myself on them, reveling in their disgust.”
Toby’s hand grabbed onto her right hand, and began to pull. “You must come though now!”
His strength pulled her mostly through, but the Freilux still had a grasp on her left hand, which held the Sphere. If she released it, she would make it through, but if she held on, she knew the Freilux would be able to bring her back.
“Toby, I can’t lose it!” she cried. “It’s the only way I can see father again.”
Toby’s face solidified in front of hers and she had forgotten how handsome he was, how resolute and confident his gaze was. His blue eyes were as a sea of calm, cooling the fires of anxiety within her. Around him swirled clean, fresh air, filled with the promise of repose.
“Hold onto it tight,” he said, with a strong voice she was overjoyed to hear, “and pull with all your might.”
She tightened her grasp, and tried to squeeze through the opening with it, but the Freilux’s grasp was too strong. She heard him laugh as he squeezed her burned forearm.
“It hurts, Toby -- it hurts!” she screamed.
“We need the Sphere, Melissa -- you know that!”
She tried to pull, but her strength was fading and the pain was too much.
“I . . . can’t, Toby. I’m sorry.”
She let go, and fell forward into his waiting arms, crying.
“Melissa . . .”
“I’m sorry, Toby!” She clutched onto him frantically, her face buried in his chest, unable to meet a gaze she had waited so long to see. “I just couldn’t! I’m not that strong . . .”
She could feel him sigh, then his hand smoothing her hair. “Lissa, I’m glad you’re alright. We can always steal back the Sphere later.” She felt his hand gently lift her face up, and finally, through a veil of tears, she saw his kind face again.
“Toby!”
As she cried his name, they could hear the Freilux laugh hysterically.
“One day, we’ll be laughing over him,” said Toby. “One day, my sister, one day . . .”
She glanced around; looking at the shadow world she had escaped to, and despaired.