30th Summer 517
Everything flashed gold. First, she thought it was the light of the sun, that glimmered down onto the unspoiled landscape of the Sea of Grass. Then, she realised it was reflecting off something, but she couldn’t bring her hands up to block the light. From over the hill, something emerged, something beautiful. A horned creature, far bigger than any normal one. His antlers spread almost larger than her, but it wasn’t their size that caused her eyes to widen. They were golden, beautifully golden, shimmering in the light, a pure metal.
Come with me, he said, speaking as an elk and Merevaika understanding as one too, Run with me.
And so she ran. Elk by elk, they ran, letting the scenes zip past them. Grass brushed against her hindquarters, where she knew the antlers were glowing even if she couldn’t see them. The ground seemed to rise and fall with every move, almost shifting to adjust for every step. She could feel Zulrav’s breath wrap around her movements, pulling at the coat of hair across her four legged body. The smell was impossible to miss: grass, perfectly fresh grass; the musk of elk beside her; the smell of gold and godliness from Alcor himself.
Then her body felt different. Not as different as it did when she changed from human to elk, but still, different. Her legs were stronger, her head slightly different, the muscles placed a little differently.
She had a mane. A tail. They were picked up by the wind, thrown up with her movements, beautiful.
Venthris, run with me, came the voice of the son of Caiyha, still understandable even as she lived in the memory of the Strider. So she ran, feeling free and wild. Even then, she could feel the web, coursing through her. It prickled and tingled and soaked into every essence of her being, until she knew that she was one with the magic that made this land what it was.
The scenery began to blur, with blues and greens, until all that remained was the strips of sky and grass, and the glinting gold from the elk that ran beside her.
Sweat.
She could feel sweat ride up on her back.
Fear.
Her horse’s heart grew faster, matching the beating of her hooves, surpassing it.
Speed.
Her legs kicked up the ground, throwing dirt at the black things that chased her.
The adrenaline rushed into her senses, and suddenly she could feel their spit against her hind legs. The noise of their snarls was matched with the noise of the grass rustling around them. She could smell the hunger within them, taste the adrenaline within herself. Even though she knew this was a dream, a memory, that they couldn’t hurt her, she let that fear strike through her, let herself grow faster and faster.
So fast that she slipped out of the body of the Strider mare and into the body of the wolf.
Her spirit screamed at the change, not ready for the smaller body, the body of a predator rather than prey.
It was beautiful. Intoxicating. Deadly.
The air was electric with static, prickling against her fur as she ran. Her paws padded against the ground almost silently with the speed. A tongue licked razor sharp teeth, knife like claws dug into the dirt.
She was ready to kill, if it came to it.
Then his voice came, once again. Stay with me, Merevaika. She shook her heavy dark fur, and found herself surrounded by wolves, much lighter than she was, growling deeply. Teeth were bared, hackles were high, and she could feel their bites as the air crackled even more.
Without doing anything, the body of the wolf she sat in shifted, sinking low. She stretched her paws out, scraping the ground, and pressed her head against it. Ears flattened, mouth shrunk back to hide her fangs, tail shifted under her body defensively.
The growling rose, and she could taste something in her mouth. Not blood or meat or something fitting for a hunter like a wolf, but something... more. Sweet and juicy, like fruit. Like a particular piece of fruit. Pear-like. Blue. A gift from Caiyha.
Suddenly, she knew what she had to do.
Seeking control again, she shifted into every limb, soaking into the bone and muscle and sinew as if they were her own. Then she rolled, feeling the grass brush the fur on her back. The crackling stopped.
The wolves leapt on her, silver fur glinting amidst the gold that surrounded her.
She knew they weren’t going to harm her. They couldn’t, either, for Alcor’s antlers surrounded her, encasing her in a shield of safety.
Come to me, Merevaika, came his words, and she was alone.
In her tent, the shadows danced like pretty boys and girls, and left her staring into nothing.
She was in her own body now. Two legs, with feet at the end, with toes that buried into sand. Two arms, with hands and fingers that were rough from work, and the salt that rubbed at them. A body she felt safe in. Where she knew every scar and joint and movement. Where she was just Merevaika, once Drykas, now nothing.
She cried, tears streaming down her face.
She cried, moisture soaking into her bedroll.
There was a flash of gold again, lighting up the tent through the gaps where cloth fell as a doorway. Alcor. She knew instantly to follow, rising from the blanket covering, pushing out.
The jungle loomed around menacingly, Merevaika somehow stuck in the middle. Like a woven cage around her, the trees wrapped across each other’s branches, vines dripping from them before shifting into snakes. The woman coiled away from them, unsure where to go, where she was, how to protect herself, until Alcor appeared, only the shadow of his body and the glare of the golden horns visible.
Merevaika, come to me, he repeated, before turning away. Every step he made cleared the jungle, and she hurried after, eyes trained on him rather than the void of blackness that extended in every direction. It melted as she walked through, leaving nothing behind but smears of colour.
There came the noise of a river. The woman ducked under a branch, and found the path opened out into a clearer section of the forest. There were steps and steps to walk, unobstructed, until she hit the bubbling waters, gold glinting within them. They stepped down the rainforest like steps for the gods, the river interrupted several times by the rush of a waterfall.
Was that gold amongst the black darting fish? Or the reflection of gilded antlers?
Come further. There is more for you, he spoke again, and she followed, gaze only lingering on the gold in the river until she stepped out of sight.
The huntress was following a path now. A trail, of some sorts – the ground was trampled in, fur lined the sides. Something hoofed, from the marks in the dirt. She was carrying something too – her hand curled open, and found an odd selection that had somehow hidden in her fist.
A coil of rope. A knife. And the emerald pendant, that she moved to hang around her neck.
The jungle opened up again as she settled it into place.
This time, she gave a gasp.
Ruins. Coated in ivy, grey stone crumbling from age, half collapsed walls and doors. She knew ruins like this. She knew what they could hold inside. Treasure. All sorts of treasure.
She strode forward deliberately, stepping one foot on a pile of collapsed stone. The antlers glinted gold from beyond, ready to guide her to the treasure. Foot after foot. Hands moved to steady herself. Another step.
Falling.
Everything began falling. Merevaika grasped out, but only knocked more rubble off, feeling first her body smash and cut itself against the rocks, then the stones fall onto her, flattening with every blow, suffocating.
They started like a cairn, suffocating her in darkness.
She awoke with the blanket over her head, arms tramped in the tangles of wet fabric.
She had been crying. Sweating. Twisting and turning in her sleep. And the images were refusing to leave her.
Everything flashed gold. First, she thought it was the light of the sun, that glimmered down onto the unspoiled landscape of the Sea of Grass. Then, she realised it was reflecting off something, but she couldn’t bring her hands up to block the light. From over the hill, something emerged, something beautiful. A horned creature, far bigger than any normal one. His antlers spread almost larger than her, but it wasn’t their size that caused her eyes to widen. They were golden, beautifully golden, shimmering in the light, a pure metal.
Come with me, he said, speaking as an elk and Merevaika understanding as one too, Run with me.
And so she ran. Elk by elk, they ran, letting the scenes zip past them. Grass brushed against her hindquarters, where she knew the antlers were glowing even if she couldn’t see them. The ground seemed to rise and fall with every move, almost shifting to adjust for every step. She could feel Zulrav’s breath wrap around her movements, pulling at the coat of hair across her four legged body. The smell was impossible to miss: grass, perfectly fresh grass; the musk of elk beside her; the smell of gold and godliness from Alcor himself.
Then her body felt different. Not as different as it did when she changed from human to elk, but still, different. Her legs were stronger, her head slightly different, the muscles placed a little differently.
She had a mane. A tail. They were picked up by the wind, thrown up with her movements, beautiful.
Venthris, run with me, came the voice of the son of Caiyha, still understandable even as she lived in the memory of the Strider. So she ran, feeling free and wild. Even then, she could feel the web, coursing through her. It prickled and tingled and soaked into every essence of her being, until she knew that she was one with the magic that made this land what it was.
The scenery began to blur, with blues and greens, until all that remained was the strips of sky and grass, and the glinting gold from the elk that ran beside her.
Sweat.
She could feel sweat ride up on her back.
Fear.
Her horse’s heart grew faster, matching the beating of her hooves, surpassing it.
Speed.
Her legs kicked up the ground, throwing dirt at the black things that chased her.
The adrenaline rushed into her senses, and suddenly she could feel their spit against her hind legs. The noise of their snarls was matched with the noise of the grass rustling around them. She could smell the hunger within them, taste the adrenaline within herself. Even though she knew this was a dream, a memory, that they couldn’t hurt her, she let that fear strike through her, let herself grow faster and faster.
So fast that she slipped out of the body of the Strider mare and into the body of the wolf.
Her spirit screamed at the change, not ready for the smaller body, the body of a predator rather than prey.
It was beautiful. Intoxicating. Deadly.
The air was electric with static, prickling against her fur as she ran. Her paws padded against the ground almost silently with the speed. A tongue licked razor sharp teeth, knife like claws dug into the dirt.
She was ready to kill, if it came to it.
Then his voice came, once again. Stay with me, Merevaika. She shook her heavy dark fur, and found herself surrounded by wolves, much lighter than she was, growling deeply. Teeth were bared, hackles were high, and she could feel their bites as the air crackled even more.
Without doing anything, the body of the wolf she sat in shifted, sinking low. She stretched her paws out, scraping the ground, and pressed her head against it. Ears flattened, mouth shrunk back to hide her fangs, tail shifted under her body defensively.
The growling rose, and she could taste something in her mouth. Not blood or meat or something fitting for a hunter like a wolf, but something... more. Sweet and juicy, like fruit. Like a particular piece of fruit. Pear-like. Blue. A gift from Caiyha.
Suddenly, she knew what she had to do.
Seeking control again, she shifted into every limb, soaking into the bone and muscle and sinew as if they were her own. Then she rolled, feeling the grass brush the fur on her back. The crackling stopped.
The wolves leapt on her, silver fur glinting amidst the gold that surrounded her.
She knew they weren’t going to harm her. They couldn’t, either, for Alcor’s antlers surrounded her, encasing her in a shield of safety.
Come to me, Merevaika, came his words, and she was alone.
In her tent, the shadows danced like pretty boys and girls, and left her staring into nothing.
She was in her own body now. Two legs, with feet at the end, with toes that buried into sand. Two arms, with hands and fingers that were rough from work, and the salt that rubbed at them. A body she felt safe in. Where she knew every scar and joint and movement. Where she was just Merevaika, once Drykas, now nothing.
She cried, tears streaming down her face.
She cried, moisture soaking into her bedroll.
There was a flash of gold again, lighting up the tent through the gaps where cloth fell as a doorway. Alcor. She knew instantly to follow, rising from the blanket covering, pushing out.
The jungle loomed around menacingly, Merevaika somehow stuck in the middle. Like a woven cage around her, the trees wrapped across each other’s branches, vines dripping from them before shifting into snakes. The woman coiled away from them, unsure where to go, where she was, how to protect herself, until Alcor appeared, only the shadow of his body and the glare of the golden horns visible.
Merevaika, come to me, he repeated, before turning away. Every step he made cleared the jungle, and she hurried after, eyes trained on him rather than the void of blackness that extended in every direction. It melted as she walked through, leaving nothing behind but smears of colour.
There came the noise of a river. The woman ducked under a branch, and found the path opened out into a clearer section of the forest. There were steps and steps to walk, unobstructed, until she hit the bubbling waters, gold glinting within them. They stepped down the rainforest like steps for the gods, the river interrupted several times by the rush of a waterfall.
Was that gold amongst the black darting fish? Or the reflection of gilded antlers?
Come further. There is more for you, he spoke again, and she followed, gaze only lingering on the gold in the river until she stepped out of sight.
The huntress was following a path now. A trail, of some sorts – the ground was trampled in, fur lined the sides. Something hoofed, from the marks in the dirt. She was carrying something too – her hand curled open, and found an odd selection that had somehow hidden in her fist.
A coil of rope. A knife. And the emerald pendant, that she moved to hang around her neck.
The jungle opened up again as she settled it into place.
This time, she gave a gasp.
Ruins. Coated in ivy, grey stone crumbling from age, half collapsed walls and doors. She knew ruins like this. She knew what they could hold inside. Treasure. All sorts of treasure.
She strode forward deliberately, stepping one foot on a pile of collapsed stone. The antlers glinted gold from beyond, ready to guide her to the treasure. Foot after foot. Hands moved to steady herself. Another step.
Falling.
Everything began falling. Merevaika grasped out, but only knocked more rubble off, feeling first her body smash and cut itself against the rocks, then the stones fall onto her, flattening with every blow, suffocating.
They started like a cairn, suffocating her in darkness.
She awoke with the blanket over her head, arms tramped in the tangles of wet fabric.
She had been crying. Sweating. Twisting and turning in her sleep. And the images were refusing to leave her.
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