[Sanctuary] Digging where the darkness lies (Raiha)

[Kelpie]

Location: Sanctuary Timestamp: TBD by Raiha Darkness is a fickle thing. Retreating from the light, but grown stronger by it. The darkness is fed in the deep places of the world, where the shadows thrive and secrets go to their graves. It shrouds those that wish not to be uncovered, and shelters those that fear exposure. Most Mizaharians do not treat the shadows and the darkness as some living entity, it is simply there; something that is apparent and known and natural, urged by the changing of the days, by Syna’s blaze or Leth’s light or the influences of a fire. But there are others who hear the whispers of the shadows, speak to them, listen to them, and hold the power to utilize them. It was during this night that the shadows seemed to loom ever closer to the Akontak who stood in the central courtyard of Sanctuary, gazing almost absently up at the stars that had so enraptured her. Zintila’s stars, the crown of a goddess. Kanikra had been practicing diligently with her mace, pounding away at a dummy stand that stood off on a corner by itself; a tall, dark figure amidst the already inky black that coated the buildings and the floor like a veil. It was well into the night, and Leth’s soft rays penetrated the few trees that stood erect in the compound, highlighting the contour of the Akontak’s form as she continued her assault on the dummy. The shadows grew then retracted, an odd sight to be sure, as it was almost akin to a flickering of a fire’s shadow, yet there was no fire present. Sometimes, in the corner of her eyes, Kanikra could swear she could see a dark blotch on the ground shoot passed her peripheral vision, then when she turned to look, it had vanished. Kanikra, however, seemed to simply shrug it off, continuing on with her training until small beads of sweat began to form on her brow. Her concentration, her dedication, all were beginning to gradually fade in the wake of a new phenomenon. Whispers drifted in the air, whispers so soft and velvety, brought on by the shifting shadows. It was in a language the Akontak could not understand, but appealing nonetheless. Kanikra had paused, her eyes roaming the buildings, the fence, the stalls. Anything she could soak in to determine the source of the voices. There was only the looming shadows, drawing ever closer.

[Raiha]

Over and over, the mace hit the dummy. It was almost enough for two hands, the mace she used, but with the strength that came from her father’s side of her blood, the flanged mace worked well with one hand. This particular set of repetitions was from the first of the three swings – overhead. After all, there were only three basic attacks. Every move she made with the mace came from one of them. She could swing it down from overhead, she could swing it from the side, or she could swing it upwards from below. The more you stepped into it, the more power you could bring down on your target. It was a whole-body effort. This particular target had been made of reeds. Reeds grew like weeds all along the river and shores, and that meant that there were a lot of them. It didn’t replace the feeling of flesh and bone, which was what Kanikra would have really liked to have been hitting… but to do so would have been expensive. Besides, both Raiha and Kavala would have had twin heart attacks if she was torturing a pig to death by way of a mace. Besides, she would have been compelled by Rak’keli to try to fix the damage she had done if she did, and it would have just been a pure waste of resources to ruin meat that way. Granted, when she’d whacked the moose that had been raiding the garden that had been one thing, but to purchase a pig for the sheer purposes of beating the petching shyke out of it… that was quite another.

Twenty swings with each arm, over and over. Swinging the mace would become instinct, a natural extension of her body’s movements. She slammed the dummy one last time with her right arm, and switched it to her left. Once she’d gotten this down, the next step, naturally, would be to use both at once. But this would do for now – it was why she had encouraged Raiha to practice the suvai with both hands. Besides… the Akontak had put a lot of work in on would do well to make the work pay off. Kanikra liked to be prepared. If you were ever wounded in one arm, you could grab your weapon and continue with the other. It made it easier to confound and confuse people if you faced them in battle. Let them think you were good only in one arm, and they would underestimate you. Kanikra switched to her right hand, bring the mace up in a swinging arc beyond her head, bringing it down on the dummy, hard. The reeds, bound tightly together with rawhide and twine, shuddered, but remained where they were on the stand. Over and over and over until the twenty repetitions with her right were complete. Kanikra switched back to her left, beginning to work her under-arm swing, bringing the mace up from under to strike the dummy near the sides and chest, all aware of the way it was an intricate sort of dance. Her arms moved in a way that she knew from observing people that most couldn’t, rotating well in their sockets to swing the mace up and down and around as necessary.

The mace swung again as Kanikra worked on her breathing, keeping it steady, focusing on her type of meditation – moving meditation – focusing on the task at hand, on the rhythm of her breath and the movement of her body. While Raiha was content to be still, to return her mind to peaceful tranquility, sorting out the clutter of thoughts that filled her head, Kanikra preferred to do it while she was moving. It didn’t matter how one did it, she reasoned, as long as they did. She meditated for another reason – meditation could help with the use of Djed, and with their affinity for it… it was crucial, crucial, that they did everything they could to harness it and their ability to use it. Raiha had learned to like keeping her mind uncluttered, organized, to keep her reaction time in check. Kanikra harassed her about ‘spring cleaning’, after all, because her sister-soul had a mind like a steel trap from repeating that process herself. Her blue skin was protected from the chill of the night with the leather pants and boots that she wore, and while she wore a shirt beneath her leather vest, her arms were bare. They were kept warm from the workout that her muscles were getting, though goosebumps rose on the flesh from time to time as the wind raced around the courtyard. She didn’t mind the cooling chill, not after the humid, stifling summer weather.

Meditation was about awareness. It was about letting go of the chaos in her head, between the both of them. Kanikra was aware of her surroundings, aware of the horses champing on the dinner in the stables, those who weren’t sleeping, aware of the way the wind moved through the grasses of the pastureland beyond the courtyard of Sanctuary. As she wound the mace in a short movement, she breathed in. With the exhale, the mace swung from the side into the dummy, causing the wood to creak. It was there and outside of her at once. She was aware of it, but at the same time, it was on the outside of her focus. There was just her and the mace. The dummy was everything that stood in her way. She didn’t have to think about what it was. It simply was every obstacle she faced. She stepped forward, stepping into the blow, her braid moving back and forth across her back with each movement, every step of the intricate dance as the shocks of the mace reverberating from the point of impact all the way to her shoulders. The muscles had gotten used to it, and the shockwaves from the impact were hardly jarring any more. Breathe, swing. Breathe, swing…

Creeping shadows hardly interrupted her. It was nighttime, the Night-Mother Akajia’s time, and as the clouds came and went, making the light of the courtyard dance with the skittering shadows. What was that? Raiha interrupted her for once. That got Kanikra’s attention, and she frowned. It could have been a look of concentration, or something else, but she continued to hammer the dummy. Would you stop and use Auristics, please? Her twin demanded. Kanikra focused on the Djed as she swung her mace again, feeling her shoulder roll with the weight of the weapon. Auras sprang to her eyes, each individual reed and the ties that bound them, her own hands and the weapon she held. Out of the corner of her eye, as she listened to the whispers that came on something beyond the wind, Kanikra tried to get a look at the odd shadows, all the while checking to make sure it wasn’t some trick of the light. She was not one to panic; but just like Raiha, she remembered the forced morphing that came from a ghost that invaded Sanctuary. She did not want to be caught unaware again.

Don’t be stupid. Just stay calm. Let’s see what we have skulking around, if anything… try not to let them know we know it’s there, Kanikra told her. If there is something, it’ll be in striking range, and we’ll try to hit it. No need to wake the place up just yet... Two more swings, the last of her repetitions, and she straightened with a sigh, turning to scour the courtyard at last, her gold eyes cold as she rested the head of the mace on the ground, her hand still on the handle. She didn’t know what it was, but she was pretty sure the wind didn’t whisper that way. Some of her white hair had come out of her braid and framed her youthful face as she stared at the encroaching shadows. “Give it up,” she rested her free hand on a jutting hip. “Who are you, and what is your business here?”

[Kelpie]

Just as Kanikra had been continuing her assault on the mace, so too did the shadows continue their unrelenting approach, completely enshrouding the entire area in a sea of black. Kanikra stood out, a young blue woman with hair highlighted by Leth’s light, skin glistening under the thin sheen of sweat from her exertion. Raiha had been correct to assume someone was there, but her choice of Auristics was hardly necessary. When Kanikra’s djed converged into her eyes and lit her vision with a myriad of colors, she noticed that there was nothing out of the ordinary to discern. Only the soft wind caressed her face, only the swaying of auras from the plants, the housed animals and herself drew her attention, until she noticed that the whispers had died down. There was only a soft laugh. A velvety laugh that echoed among the shadows, and seemed to elevate it to new heights. Out of the shadows directly behind Kanikra a woman emerged, particles of what seemed like black dust falling in her wake. Her long, silky hair seemed to have a life of it’s own, almost intertwined with the shadows behind her, and her skin, a dark, rich blue reflected that of Kanikra’s own. Those hauntingly wise eyes watched her closely, but on her lips was something of a small smile. “Do you really presume to think you can take me on, Kanikra?” She approached the young Akontak, encircling her, her footsteps darkening the soil beneath her. “I think you know who I am, but in terms of business, oh.. How I have been watching you, child.” Shadows darted beneath Kanikra’s feet, echoing laughs that held no true meaning. “Akontaks are such curious creatures, ones that I will never truly understand, nor care not to. But I have watched you since you were but a child, Kanikra… Raiha.” “You prayed to me, you called my name so many nights, and why? What did you seek from your Night-Mother?” Her voice hinted at something almost akin to motherly, but it quickly disappeared.

[Raiha]

The fact that there was nothing to be seen bothered Raiha more than it bothered Kanikra, though it did make her suspicious. Maybe her sister was just getting jumpy. But she was pretty certain that hadn’t been the case. They had seen the shadows moving. But, Kanikra recalled from Raiha’s studies, powerful Aurists could hide and manipulate their aura. Ghosts couldn’t do that, so that crossed that off the list, but if there was something else that was out and hiding, or playing with her… She snuck a glance upward. People never looked up, after all, and all sorts of attacks couple come from above… only to find that there was nothing to be seen up there, either. Her eyes swept the shadows. Her gut feeling said something was there, and Kanikra knew not to ignore her gut. After all, how many times had she chewed Raiha out for ignoring her instincts?

But when the woman emerged from the shadows behind her, Kanikra stiffened, her back becoming ramrod straight as she spun around, her eyes widening, for once well and truly surprised, her braid smacking against her opposite shoulder with a quiet thud. She lost control of the mace, but it became apparent that she wasn’t going to need it. Not for this. Not for Her. Her gold eyes were enormous, and she bowed at the waist before straightening up, spotting the shadows beneath her feet, listening to the laughter. It made her begin to wonder if the shadows had been the source of the language she had heard, although she had been unable to understand it. “I apologize for thinking so,” the Akontak spoke to the Goddess. “I thought it might have been a Ghost at first… we’ve had some creeping around. That was my first instinct.” By now, she had recovered from her shock and stood still, letting Akajia circle her, though she did her best to follow the Goddess’s movements with her eyes, all the while trying to keep track of the shadows. And at the same time, perhaps wrongly of her, she began to relax. This was the Night-Mother. This was the Goddess she had prayed to for years. The Goddess she was certain had all but forsaken her.

The last question made her pause. What did she want? She wanted a lot of things, most of them within her grasp if she only decided to finally seize control and keep it, this time. The Kelvics, save Akasha, likely wouldn’t be thrilled, but when did that matter or even weigh in on her decision making? They would acquiesce to her demands or abandon her twin. Of course, further, more complicated plans that dealt with the Cerulean and the tattoos they wore that would mean likely abandoning Sanctuary and moving elsewhere in the city, which had its own complications. The timing wasn’t right, and at times Kanikra found herself questioning that goal. She, as confidence as she was, sought guidance. But mostly, she had questions, and questions that had no answers that she could find… except, perhaps, from the Goddess of Secrets herself. Her appearance brought her new questions, questions Kanikra would have to think on. But the very fact that Akajia had finally decided to visit her wayward daughter made the Akontak feel deeply honored, especially to hear that she had been watching, listening, after all. But the wellspring of emotions that Raiha was feeling, the astonishment, the delight, the awe, even in the background, even as Akajia mentioned her name, was absent in the sister-soul currently controlling their body.

“I wanted a lot of things,” Kanikra said slowly. Oh, she had questions. She had lots of them. “Most I worked out for myself. Or will work out. One way or another. I had questions without answers that anyone could give me.” Her eyes searched Akajia’s as she paused, before they finally came out in a very un-Kanikra-like string of words. “Why Mura? Why Raiha? Why were we, complete and total opposites, put together? Why were we marked by Rak’keli at birth, and that I only see you now? Was she hedging her bets? Is it because my mother was a Konti and I was female, not a male Akalak? Because I was stuck in Mura for twenty-two years? Was it a test? Was it because you wanted to see what I’d work out for myself if left to my own devices?” Kanikra exhaled, realizing she was almost babbling, looking at the Night-Mother, head slightly tilted. She never said this much… but what of it did Akajia not already know of? “What was the language the shadows whispered?”

[Kelpie]

Akajia seemed to disregard Kanikra’s uncharacteristic show of respect. She stood a few paces from her now, but her bright eyes were locked onto the Akontak’s own. “I suppose it’s a fitting reaction, being wary of the unknown; being strong in the face of it. But what lies under the veil of secrets can always be beneficial, it only depends on if you have the will and the determination to discover it.” Kanikra could feel the pull of the Night-Mother, the sensation of being read by the shifting shadows that darted beneath her feet and over her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Akajia seemed unfazed by Kanikra’s odd rambling, on the contrary, she waited for her to finish, then gave a small rueful smile. “So you sought answers; so you lay dormant in your weaker sister and watched the world pass through her eyes. It is no surprise why you were born in Mura, Kanikra. You came from a Konti, they horde their daughters to keep them from the dangers of this world, and indeed, there are many dangers that have yet to make themselves known. Not even the pantheon may have the answers as to why you are your sister’s keeper. Perhaps Lhex had a part in your union, but my sons, the Akalak, they have always been gifted with their soul brothers. It is not a curse for you to be with her, it is a privilege. This you need to understand. The Akalak are gifted with the knowledge that complete equality and union within their body and minds make them an unstoppable force. You, just by yourself, Kanikra, can not hold anyone off.” For a moment, Akajia paused, toying with a strand of her silky black hair, her voice had taken on an authority that seemed to be uncommon. Her expression was placid, even while she continued, “You have always seen me, Kanikra. I was always surrounding you, when Syna made her voyage over the land, I was the one to shroud the world in night. The shadows are a part of me as I am a part of the world. The people of Mizahar, they are oft so very odd, so cumbersome, don’t you think? The Konti were never one to appreciate the night as much as they appreciate Avalis. So I found it rather curious that you called for me.” “I know the reason Raiha fled Mura, it’s no secret to me.” There was a hint of amusement in the goddess’ tone, “I didn’t intervene, as I felt no reason to. Your journey to Riverfall brought you to me, that was enough.” At Kanikra’s question regarded the language, Akajia smiled, “The language of Shadows, Makath. Those who I gift a portion of my power to are able to understand them. They are their own entities. Quite talkative.” The authority returned, “It’s no coincidence I have manifested before you this night, Kanikra. You have tested the limits of your connection with your soul-sister. What is it you hope to gain when half of your power is diminished?” Whether Akajia knew this answer or not was difficult to discern. Her question seemed genuine, but she appeared as if she was testing the Akontak. “You have immense potential in you, and it would be such a shame if you lost it in a silly mortal whim to dominate that which you greatly need in your life. Raiha lies silent in your mind, she, perhaps, already knows that which I ask of her. But right now, I require your answer.”

[Raiha]

Kanikra didn’t know what to make of the shadows feeling her, the way her skin danced and twitched almost involuntarily as they surrounded her. She didn’t disturb them, but just let them ghost over her exposed skin in the cool air of the night sky. She wondered what they were finding, holding her limbs still as they ghosted over her. She listened quietly, respectfully, as the Night-Mother spoke, her body still but for the way her skin crawled beneath the shadowy caresses. She found that once one got over the unusual feeling of the ethereal touches, they weren’t particularly troublesome. She found herself splaying the fingers of her hands to let the shadows move between them if they so chose to do so. Had the words the goddess uttered come from anyone else, Kanikra would have listened, weighed them, and dismissed them. But it seemed to her that if anyone could understand what she was going through… it would be Akajia. She was the mother of the Akalak… and to Kanikra, she was more of a mother, detached from mortal affairs as she was, than the Konti who had birthed her.

“Raiha has her usefulness,” Kanikra admitted slowly. “From time to time, anyway.” Raiha just stayed quiet, used to the insults that came from her sister-soul. This was the same old garden variety that she was used to. What point was there in bickering in front of Akajia? Akajia, as far as Raiha was concerned, knew everything there was to know. She would understand this. “But a gift…” She was quiet, thinking it over. This would take a drastic change in attitude on her behalf to look at it this way. Kanikra and Raiha had their own stubborn points in their undeclared war against each other, and this was one of them. Kanikra felt Raiha was a hindrance. Raiha felt Kanikra was a menace. But, at least, the quieter twin who watched and listened and learned had become more willing since last season to try to work with the other. That wasn’t to say Raiha had no share of the blame, nor her own work cut out for her. She needed to learn to let go of the fear of what Kanikra could and would do, given the opportunity, just to bait her and find some measure of ruining whatever happiness Raiha found.

A gift.

She chewed the inside of her lip, never looking away from the Goddess. The concept was almost mind-boggling, though, perhaps, it should not have been. Kanikra had always thought that a good deal of the strength that the Akalak found came from finding who was stronger and supplementing the victor’s skills with whatever the weaker soul had to offer for the betterment of the two of them. She could imagine how it meant they were at odds… but what didn’t kill you made you stronger, didn’t it? Like clasping your fingers and pulling at them, exercising the muscles against each other. If you were used to internal conflict, it didn’t phase you when it happened externally. But if the real power came from working together… from joining together and combining the two separate people that they were into one that worked as a cohesive unit… This was food for thought. If that was the case… then the Cerulean were rightfully pitied… not to be admired. While they were unburdened with the often cumbersome quandaries and such of their other soul, they had lost some measure of power in the process. Akajia said outright that there was more to be lost than gained from truly besting her sister-soul.

But that was by beating them into the dirt and leaving them there. Kanikra’s overarching plan went further than that. Sure, it involved systematically breaking her sister down until she had nothing left but herself… but by doing so, she could once and for all cut out the weakening Konti taint that infected her sister. It was like a surgeon who had been presented with an infected limb. How much healthy flesh did you have to cut away to ensure you got all of the disease? The only answer to that question, in Kanikra’s opinion, was ‘as much as necessary’. She would help her then, if there was anything left. Only when there was nothing left to lose could one risk it all and see how strong they truly were. “You are right. I’m sorry. You’ve always been there, all around me every night… but I meant like this, manifesting here in front of me,” Kanikra admitted. “But they are. They’re strange. They’re ruled by their emotions, and those emotions influence their thinking. They’re crippled by their inability to see things clearly with the distractions they have pulling at them... and yet, they feel I am broken.”

Her sister would still be hiding in Mura if she had had her way. There would have been no such progress that they’d made even now. Kanikra wouldn’t have her maces. Hatot would not have taught them. She might instead study and sit in the sun and swim and learn poetry, all the while remaining a soft as a lily’s petals. Not in this lifetime would Kanikra have tolerated that. There would have been more to gain by going directly to Dira than wasting their lifespan in that fashion. “They don’t like the night because they’re not comfortable in it. It holds secrets they can’t divine… and because they don’t know it, they can’t see in it… they’re afraid of it. They equate the darkness with death.” The Akontak knew that much. The night had never posed a problem for her – she had always been able to see just as well at night as she could in the day time, and she had been more comfortable in the darkness where she blended in rather than sticking out. How many times had she camped on Konti Isle and laid and watched the way Zintilla accented the darkness that was Akajia’s realm, or watched the night from Sanctuary’s pastureland? Too many nights to count.

“Makath…” Kanikra repeated, her voice a murmur, eying the shadows. She liked the way it rolled off of her tongue. There was something very… resonating… about it. She found herself looking at the shadows far more critically with her Auristics, though she didn’t expect there to be any changes in the way they were perceived across her vision just because she had been informed that they were living entities of their own. But it was interesting… very, very interesting. She wondered, too, if Akajia would teach her the language of the shadows. One could learn a lot from them. No one ever saw the shadows as being potential spies. The idea…and the potential of it… fascinated her. In many ways, it was perfect. One would have to barter with them, of course… but deals could likely be worked out. She brought her attention back to the Goddess, then.

An answer.

She didn’t think the answer would please Akajia. But it was her answer. Right or wrong, it had been the way she looked at things. “Raiha is burdened with those crippling emotions,” Kanikra said slowly. “They cloud her thinking and would incapacitate her in making decisions if I didn’t push her and refocus her. She becomes inhibited by them, by the idle promises and relationships she finds with others. She was tainted by the Konti because she was predominant, coddled, protected, shielded. She is weakened by that taint like an infected limb is if you don’t treat it… it’s an underlying weakness.” She could feel the misery, tinged with frustration, that Raiha felt, but she didn’t interrupt her twin, letting her continue, to get it out in the air again. “Only once you’ve lost everything close to you… only once it’s only you, and you’ve cut away all the fat and flesh to expose the bone… that’s when you know how strong you are. I want to see how strong Raiha is. If she can come back from losing everything… from bone and nerve and sinew… then she’ll be stronger than she is now. If she doesn’t… her deficiencies… that she needs to survive in this world overwhelmed what could be fixed.” It was a cruel test for both of them – one of Kanikra’s abilities at manipulating her sister, already time-tested and proven, and a test to see how tenuous Raiha’s grip on her sanity despite Kanikra’s efforts was. No matter what outcome, Kanikra would be satisfied… Raiha decidedly less so.

[Kelpie]

Akajia showed no hint of disappointment; no trace that Kanikra’s words might have been disliked in any way shape or form. The Night-Mother was as placid as the shadows that danced about them. “Perhaps you could say you didn’t interest me as much as you did now, Kanikra. I do not manifest freely without some semblance of a reason. There is always a reason; there’s always some hidden meaning behind the smallest of actions, whether you may realize it or not. Did you think yourself special? That you were above those that you so wished to separate yourself from? Without them, you would not exist. You are the link between the Akalak and the Konti, and in knowing this, one must have a measure of respect for both.” There was a gleam in the Goddess’ eyes that radiated an authority that had once been hidden. “I care not for the reasons they might not realize the full potential of my realm. What I wonder is if my wayward daughter strays from the path that has been lain before her and ultimately ends in the hands of Dira. So unfortunate that would be, must I repeat the potential that would be lost?” Her tone took on that of a mother who regarded her child with pity, seeing no worth. “And, yet, Kanikra, you can’t see the faults that plague your heart and mind. You couldn’t, you are what others call the ‘dark sister’. I will show you what your heart is clouded by.” Akajia’s rich blue hand glided over a small pool of shadows beneath her, and almost instantaneously, particles of black dust elevated and converged until they formed what appeared to be a shadow version of Kanikra herself. It crackled and swirled like a rapid river, with eyes as hallow and pale as bone. “Would you be able to fight yourself Kanikra? To continue your existence with your sister, could you dispose of this creature that plagues your mind?” The shadow Kanikra seemed to approach the real Kanikra with unnerving speed, disappearing into the black shadows of the ground and only to reappear behind the Akontak once again. A black arm shot forth, catching Kanikra’s neck and leaving black streaks that slowly began to consume her entire body. Enveloped in shadows, Kanikra had been absorbed by her own darkness. What the darkness revealed in the Akontak’s mind was an image of what could have been. Raiha as the dark twin, and Kanikra as the Konti-raised blue child who knew not the dangers of the world. The roles reversed. Raiha could feel the pull as well, she too felt the pain and power of complete dominance over her sister-soul.

[Raiha]

Kanikra watched and stood silently, tension seeping slowly from her frame. Gold eyes observed the dancing shadows, watching and drinking in every nuance of the goddess’s appearance, from her dark skin to the shadows that danced around her, to those deep, fathomless eyes, and the very way she moved… when she moved at all. She had a particular stillness to her, one that Kanikra liked and appreciated. She didn’t waste her energy doing useless, silly movements… but the ones she did make were the ones you had to pay attention to. But she was right. Even the smallest action created some sort of reaction. It was true of djed, and it was true in life.

Did she try to separate herself from her mother’s people? Of course she did, but it was for a good reason. And it was a good reason… wasn’t it? Kanikra had always thought so, and had clung to those reasons like the lifelines they offered. Raiha was already weak and tainted and complacent, and for both of them to be so in a world where every danger, imagined and otherwise, lurked around each and every corner, waiting for the unaware, ignorant fool to come around the bend and walk into some trap or ambush that they could never, and would never, suspect was coming. That was where she came in. Kanikra trusted no one. Raiha’s gullibility had had to be made up for somehow.

Because she kept herself separate and away from the weakening influence of the Konti… because she had only seen and had, really, a few Akalak as tutors growing up, Kanikra had had a great deal of respect for them. Not to the point of idolation, of course. That was reserved for the gods, if at all. She might have aspired to be more like the Akalak in order to try to undo the damage Mura had inflicted with their soft ways, their blissful, deliberate ignorance of the world off of Konti Isle. They believed they were valuable to others and would be protected by them because they were precious, fragile flowers, and they left their lives to chance… where the Akalak trained and embraced the knowledge that there was life out there that would happily take theirs.

But the Akalak, Kanikra had noticed when the Akontak left Sanctuary and went into the city, had their own problems too. But what she couldn’t comprehend was why one would stop at the point of equilibrium with their brother when both sides fought all of their lives to tip the scale in their own direction, settling for far less than they were capable of with their attention fractured in all directions. Compromises were meeting in the middle. If you had the opportunity to get everything you wanted out of it… why should you stop short of your goals? Why compromise at all when you could achieve total domination?

Balance, Akajia had said. The two halves didn’t become whole by devouring the other half, like djed-law said they theoretically could. They became whole by joining and fusing together… and perhaps becoming something even greater that way. Was that what she should have been doing, rather than systematically breaking down Raiha, mentally, spiritually and emotionally to try to remove the diseased parts of her sister’s personality? Working with the impurities and polishing, repairing, and filling in the cracks, rather than starting with base material and trying again? That led to structural issues when you left those inherent weaknesses, even if you patched them up and tried to hide them. Someone always found out about them, and then they would add just the right sort of pressure… and the whole thing would come crumbling down about your ears like a fortress made of leaves. Wasn’t it better to purge those faults and weaknesses and rebuild from the ashes?

Apparently not.

She watched as the shadows began to rise and shape themselves at Akajia’s gesture, curious and suspicious just from Akajia’s words. What her heart was clouded by… ice, maybe. She stared, gold eyes widening slightly in surprise as she looked at her mirror image, crafted in shadows, clenching and hefting her mace. Could she fight herself? Of course she could. She knew what she was capable of… maybe not. She hadn’t even had time to raise the mace before the shadow was upon her, surrounding her with the inky darkness. She squinted at her hand in the dark, watching as the shadows seemed to devour her own aura, concealing it, hiding it away in the darkness of the night… much like Akajia hid her own. Small frissons of alarm from Raiha were beginning to shake through to Kanikra, as the rest of her aura seemed to be being covered. What trick was this? Where was…? But it didn’t matter right then. She couldn’t see anything, not even the auras that lit up the darkness - everything had gone black.

She opened her eyes. She was in Mura again… what was she doing here? Hadn’t they gone to Riverfall…? The first thing that struck her was that she was no longer in control. And that began to worry her. Wait… worrying… Oh, Goddess. She was feeling things now that she had only experienced secondhand before, and Kanikra did not like it. How could she judge perfection if she had her own flaws that she couldn’t see? Kavala had said she was… broken, wasn’t it…? Was she broken? Kanikra was beginning to realize just how much she hated the feeling of doubt. The lack of confidence in her convictions, in herself, in her ability to accomplish anything at all. The worry about what Raiha would do… could do… when the mood struck her. She didn’t get why her twin acted this way. But at the same time, she couldn’t prevent herself from asking, almost pleading… Why? she asked Raiha, knowing the answer she would get… because it was the same answer that she, herself, used to give.

Because something has to make you realize the world doesn’t work so smoothly, Raiha practically purred, pressing against Kanikra’s subconscious, just to give her the feeling of being cornered. There was a cold, unfeeling, uncaring numbness that was beginning to well up inside of her. When will you realize just what waits for us out there? When will they see it? Never, Kanikra. It’s too late for them, wrapped up in their cozy little worlds of dreams and fantasy and beauty and sunshine. We could give them a bit of a jolt to help them… because you want to help people, don’t you? Help them by showing them what really lurks beyond the limits of their so-called sight. Despite her words, despite the animosity, Raiha felt fear at the sheer feeling of control and her ability to dominate her sister, to push her around if she felt like it… and wasn’t sure she liked it. Was it worse than not having it? She could squash her sister-soul like a bug under her heel. And then there was everything else that waited... those who would torture them, enslave them, kill them... just waiting for their opportunity. But that fear was fading away to a cold, unfeeling, uncaring numbness that was beginning to well up inside of her, draining her of her emotions, leaving her with a hollow emptiness inside.

But with that emptiness… she felt enhanced, in a way. Why hadn’t she been able to see things like that before? Maybe Kanikra had been right… and emotions really were a hindrance. They didn’t colour anything now. She could see beyond what others needed and wanted… and she could choose for herself. Was that better or worse than it had been? Raiha faltered, considering things almost mechanically. The inability to feel led to an inability to relate to anyone… producing a failure to care at all about what someone may have wanted or thought. It was predatory. Oh, the possibilities of just playing along, convincing and confusing others… She could get what would be the best for both of them by manipulating others. And by ‘both of them’, she meant her. What was best for her was clearly best for both of them, if Kanikra was so against preserving the pair of them and their conjoined existence.

And at the same time… Kanikra was grappling with the unfamiliar feelings that were coursing through her, bubbling and colliding as she began to lose her iron-clad grip on the control she had had. She felt like she was being crushed, drowning in this sea of alien emotions as they dragged her down and sapped at her strength. What’s the point? she tried to persuade her twin. If they’re all ignorant and never going to change… why waste the energy? What's the point?

It might be too late to save them… not that I’d want to. They’re hopeless and a waste of my time. But you… you might be salvageable yet. We’ll never know unless we try… Raiha goaded her. Or maybe we already know. Where do you think you can go? Are you going to run away from your problems again today? Is it easier than facing them? Have you ever considered it just gives me more time to think up things to do when you’re sleeping and your guard is down? Just because Konti Isle was quiet and sleepy and nothing really happened there didn’t mean it was the same way everywhere else. She had to get them out of here, or else she’d go well and truly insane. The most logical place was Riverfall. They could start a new life there. Sure, it would be a dangerous trip… but it would be worth it to get away from here… to prevent the taint from getting any deeper.

Was this what it was like to be on the receiving end all the time? It was a lot easier, Kanikra realized, to give than it was to get. She found herself wondering how Raiha hadn’t lost it long ago. What would it take to break? She ha asked herself that before. How far did she have to go to snap her out of the emotional wreck that she was? In some ways, she had gone too far, and in some ways, she hadn't gone far enough. Stop it, Kanikra felt almost shaky. Just stop, Raiha. Stop it. Time out… please. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. She was. The pangs of remorse and regret were stabbing at her like searing-hot knives. A little part of her knew that save for these mercurial emotions racing through the young Akontak, she wouldn’t be feeling that way. But at the same time, she couldn’t stop them. She could push them back, much as she tried to push her twin back, trying to push her away just to get some breathing room for herself… but the sensations were always there, demanding her attention, insisting she pay attention to them. With those alone, being in Raiha’s place was torture. Just dealing with the relentless animosity, disgust, hatred and at the same time being forced to deal with these feelings... it was too much. Just stop. You’re not yourself. That’s not who you are. This isn’t who I am. But I get it, Raiha. I get it. Just stop, please. I'm sorry.

She had seen it for herself now. She couldn’t take away, force away, the emotions, to strip her sister down to the bones. Because if she did, there would be nothing left. Nothing at all. All the potential that she wanted to get out of Raiha was there all the while. She was just looking at it the wrong way. The cracks in the skeleton could be filled in, protected, by something better than glue. She could fill in those cracks… fuse the two together… create something greater than just the two of them. That was what Kavala had meant. That was what Radris had meant. This was what Akajia meant. Raiha needed her. And she needed Raiha. Not as what Kanikra could mould her into, but as she was now. Both of them had their own flaws, but only by balancing… by walking between the two worlds… could they offset them with each other. Let Raiha deal with the emotions, while she advised and guided and tried to help her see beyond them. The unceasing harassment, the way she strong-armed and forced her sister between her and her Kelvics and all of the strife that came from adolescence was hard enough for her to bear. Those around her would never know just how close the Akontak had come to the brink. They might never know what they had done for the sister souls. “Tell me and I will forget,” the black-skinned, shadow-covered Akontak whispered, having lost her mace, her knees folding beneath her as she hit the ground with a soft thump, looking up at the sky. “Show me, and I may remember. Teach me, and I will understand. I see it. I understand. If I break that structure… then I destroy her completely… with no going back. There is no rebuilding. There is only reinforcement… through balance...”

[Kelpie]

The cold, wise eyes of the Night-Mother caught Kanikra’s own as she was enshrouded in shadows. The Goddess alone could see what occurred behind the veil of darkness, with no hint of displeasure or content at the Akontak’s progress. And indeed, she had seen and experienced the same lingering threads of reversal that clouded Kanikra’s mind. “You’re clever. You don’t lie in the presence of a god. I can tell you have been enlightened by what you have seen and your sister has gotten a taste of the power you once held.” Akajia spread her arms, and the shadows thrummed beneath their feet, singing and chanting a song the Akontak could not understand. “Even in the realm of night there must always be balance. Darkness and light coincide, my realm does not last forever. You have understood that smiting that which brings you strength is a silly notion, and you have shown progress.” The Night-Mother approached Kanikra then, and almost instantaneously, the shadows that had once enveloped her scattered, merging with those that cavorted around the goddess. Kanikra could see reality once more, her perception now restored. Akajia, who had once stood before her, seemed to vanish into the ground, where now it seemed to be a black puddle of darkness. A rich blue hand emerged and touched Kanikra between the shoulder blades, inciting a rather comforting yet prickly sensation as the power of the goddess transferred into a mark that now resided on her skin. A dark blue triangle, the sign of a favored. It was then, after the sensations had settled, that Kanikra was able to clearly hear the voices of the shadows that swarmed about them. New shadow-player! A new one! She can listen, she can speak! Laughter emanated all around her. The voices were soft almost smoky, but whimsical all the same. Soon, Akajia’s firm voice penetrated the rest. “I bestow upon you, Raiha, Kanikra, the power to understand the language of Shadows, Makath. You will find now that these shadows are more than just what the average being perceives them to be. They are entities that show like and dislike, and if you desire to utilize them, you must befriend them.” She waved a hand, “They can gather information, hoard secrets that only you will discover and keep until the end of your days. They will be your companions until you die. Treat them well.” Akajia then pointed into what someone other than Kanikra and the goddess would have assumed was a mere completely blacked out corner of Sanctuary, but Kanikras eyes could see clear through the shadows that converged there, displaying several crates, and a small chair. “Shadows will not hinder your vision any longer.” The Night-Mother explained, “You may peer into them as if they do not exist, but they are there. They’re always there, remember that.”

[Raiha]

"When one stands at Dira's door, one does not sully her threshold with lies," Kanikra replied honestly. If a God wanted to kill her, after all, she didn't have any way of stopping them. She didn't think Akajia would kill her, of course - this was her Night-Mother, the Goddess who had been watching her since she was but a youngling; nor did she mean to imply it - she was speaking only in generalities. "They kept saying that I... we..." she corrected herself, "must find balance. I failed to understand how... and why." And even still, Kanikra could feel Raiha against her - for all of that power-trip, Raiha didn't seem to have liked it much. That she attributed to acting in such a surreal way, and the way she had treated her sister just now was unlike anything she had ever done before… and was unlikely to ever happen again. Raiha had not cared for just toying with people. That was Kanikra's province. She didn't have that little voice in her conscience telling her what was right and wrong - she could see and choose that for herself.

They needed each other.

"But looking back… I can see why sometimes her way of operating… getting along with people and 'going with the flow' as she calls it… might work better than my own style." Akajia could tell it took a great deal of Kanikra to say that, but now that she had said it, she meant it. She blinked, the nighttime world of Sanctuary returning to her as she sat back on her knees, looking up at where Akajia had been and then up at the sky, at the starlight that permeated the dark blanket overhead. She became still and quiet, trusting the Goddess's intentions and actions, falling back to her own habit that she had made Raiha nurture - being as still as the shadows. Even when she felt that strange… unworldly… feeling between her shoulders. She knew what it was – it was the touch of the divine. She would never remember being touched by Rak’keli as a newborn, but she would never forget this night.

Especially when she realized the shadows weren’t as still as they had thought they were.

The new voices surrounded and swarmed around her, and the two souls of the Akontak listened intently to them, each feeling the exact same thing for once – this was what going mad felt like. It was crazy and wonderful all at once. They lived with each other’s voices in the back of their head, and now that there would be so many more… this must be what going mad felt like. And yet, neither of them minded. This was something, Kanikra seemed to realize, for the first time in her life, that this was worth doing. This was interesting. This went beyond seeing how many pieces she could break a person in – her interest in that, she maintained, was purely for research – but this was something else. And, oddly enough, they seemed to like her.

They’d like Raiha better, and if they wanted these shadows on their side…

…

“Thank you, Night-Mother,” she whispered, touched and thrilled all at once. This was what the others had meant when they had talked about purpose, wasn’t it? Something beyond torturing others. Get going, Kanikra told her sister. Time to get your nerve back. You heard Her – I’ve taught you for years, and now you need to teach me. As she encouraged her, she was pushing her out at the same time, making Raiha take the fore again. This is what you are good at, this is your strength and where it lies. Use it.

“Thank you,” Raiha repeated softly, awed as she reached out blue fingers to try to touch the shadows as they shifted and danced. The warning did not go unheeded by either of them, and Raiha could only guess at the consequences failure would wrought. She decided right about then that she didn’t want to find out. The shadows were now new friends, friends that she didn’t have to explain to anyone, could listen to, and, as Kanikra had already figured out, very, very useful in their own rights. But more importantly, they were alive. And yet, though the Akontak’s features lost some of their sharpness, it seemed, from sister-soul to sister-soul. Raiha, even now, was more relaxed. She pulled her eyes away from them as she followed Akajia’s gesture, looking into the corner where the crates rested by the chair.

Before, that had been one dark shadow, its contents concealed, and nothing she had spared another thought to - they'd been there before, even if she hadn't gone and looked at them, but the Akontak had seen them during the day. She knew that she distinctly hadn’t been able to penetrate the shadows with her eyes before, even with her excellent night vision, and now she could, as if the shadows cleared it away. Incredible. And yet... the shadows were still there. Always there, as her Night-Mother had said. She focused on the triangle on her back, on the power that Akajia had given her, and made her first attempt at Makath. Hello, friends. My name is Raiha.