In the Shade of Starless Skies
I caught my breath, opened my eyes, sat up. I was in my apartment. But there was something wrong. I had been doing something, something important. I could not remember, and this frightened me.
It was dark. That wasn't right. It wasn't supposed to be dark. No light shone through the only small window. I reached for the light switch. It was already on. I looked up at the lights. They were gone. The ceiling was gone. I could see the dim, grey edges of my apartment's walls, hazy and uneven. Above that was nothing. I stood under a barren sky. There were no stars, no moons, no light from above. Nothing. I dropped my hand from the switch and shivered.
It was silent. I strained to hear the sounds of West Athens, people flying by in their Yalmahas, the ever present static of the market channels, the muted chatter and clatter of all sleepless cities. But there were none. I heard only my breathing, my heartbeat, my blood rushing in my ears, that high and ever-present hum that comes only in quiet places.
I gasped and spun around. Was that a rustle in the corner? Was there movement in those shadows? I could not see, but I heard it again. A slithering, like serpent uncoiling itself, preparing to strike.
As it edged towards me, I made out a shape. It was a woman, not facing me, but kneeling face down. As she stood, she cast off her robe, revealing mottled skin. No, not mottled I saw as she slid closer. Her skin was covered with drawings, tattoos. Predators never seen by sober eyes pursued each other across her flesh. Geometric glyphs folded themselves over and around her like a plea from the absent stars. It was too dim to see the devouring beasts and martial constellations clearly. I thanked the darkness.
I trembled as she approached, for she was as beautiful and alarming as a charging tiger. She took one last gliding step and stopped an arm's reach from me. She did not glance up, not even once, yet I could feel all her attention focused on me.
"Who are you?" I asked, my choked whisper as loud and unwelcome as gunfire.
Autumn crux.
The voice, if it was a voice, was like nothing I ever heard.
Your death was my birth, your final death, my escape. Your soul will be mine. Your stars, mine. Your future. Mine. Your body, your dreams, your freedom. Mine. Mine. Mine.
The woman stood patiently, waiting. Her hands were clasped gently in front of her in a mockery of prayer, eyes cast down. A humble stance, but full of restless energy and pride. A mocking Buddha. "Where am I?"
The stars fell from indifference. Deprived of worship, the constellations wandered and became lost. Now shadows dwell here. Dark angels of lost laughter, stolen moments. Archives of bygone eras. Shut them up. Full of poisonous knowledge.
A tremor went through the woman's body. Battles between malformed creations and misinformed scriptures raged over her skin. Again, I thanked the darkness.
Here is the first action and the last act. One final, glorious bloodbath before the curtain closes. Lands of tarnished scepters and clockwork demons. Of unnamed children and broken machines. Of swords, of sighs, and the generations between.
The first letter follows the ebb of the moons and the eye of the storm. But a dragon rides the waves. The heavens have no peaceful fields. For there are wars between souls. And treacheries.
Nothing left now but tradition. So.
You may ask three questions before we begin the fight for the prize. One left.
This was a dream. Or madness. But I felt somehow that I had to take her words seriously. I thought a moment and asked, "How will you fight me?"
I will blind your hands with solid sounds.
I will deafen your feet with living rags.
I will strand your heart with thorned waters.
I will. I will. I will.
The way she was talking, this place, it wasn't--couldn't be real. The woman smiled and licked her lips.
Oh! I would feast on your delightful uncertainties for hours. You know the evils of birth, and the evils of science, but not the evils of spirits. But knowledge you shall have in time. All shall come to us in time, to you most of all. Have you never realized how special you are, how fated, how blessed? Your birth marked you as one of us. Every one of your choices has bound you to the shadows.
No! I tried to shake my head. I tried to shout a denial. But I was trapped, as in a paralyzing dream.
As a rebel, you birthed rebellious daughters. Denied life in the worlds you know by your technologies, your chemicals, your implants, they left you for worlds unknown. They fled, strayed, lost their virtue, became pregnant with vengeance. So the prodigal daughter returns. Look upon my face, mother.
I looked into a mirror. I was in her face, in her eyes. And I knew that of all the monsters of history, my sins would be the most terrible.