Apr. 9. Kaela, in Storm-Hand's village, dreams of Emerald-Eyes again.
(Desert Rose) (City of Hands) (Himaat) (Kaela) (Savan)
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At some point, Kaela was drowsily set down from Zoltan's shoulders after the long trek to the Savanite village, and set down into a bed of furs and large fronds and coarse cloth. And despite the noise of the arrival of the group and the attention given to Storm-Hand, the exhausted kit has drifted off again into slumber…

Where do you wish to dream tonight? … It's not a voice, really. Certainly not a flick of hands. Just a message that Kaela senses.

Kaela stirs faintly in her dream. "I… need to talk to Emerald-Eyes," she signs…

A hand gently caresses Kaela's hair as she lies nestled within the furs and fronds, accompanied by a gentle purr.

Kaela drowsily cracks her eyes open and rubs at them.

A green-eyed, white-haired shamaness smiles back at Kaela. "Welcome," she signs.

Kaela smiles up at her softly. "Emerald-Eyes?"

The elder Emerald-Eyes is kneeling on the dirt floor of the hut. It is not her hut this time, though. It is only a simple hut of thatch and wood and large leaves. The shamaness nods to Kaela. "Yes, Emerald-Eyes," she signs, with a wink.

Kaela smiles at her. "I'm glad to see you again… " After a slight pause, she adopts a more serious expression. She slowly signs, "I have to free the Twelve-times-Twelve… do you know how I can do it?"

The elder Emerald-Eyes signs, "You do not have the power, my daughter. Through your dreams, you have learned the dance, but without the dance in your heart and mind – without the knowledge of magic and training in its use – you cannot release them. I am sorry, but only a shaman – or shamaness – can release them."

Kaela swallows hard. "I have to do it… or it'll all happen again… My sister, Three-Eyes… she comes to release them, and re-unite the Savanite tribes under her… "

The elder shamaness does not respond to this, but only watches Kaela silently.

Kaela fidgets. "There must be a way… somehow… "

The shamaness signs, "If you have a shaman who can perform a ritual, you may dance as part of the ritual. With your dance and the shaman's magic, it is possible." There is some stress on the sign for possible that seems to indicate that it still may not be the best way of doing things.

Kaela shakes her head softly. "I don't have a shaman… just… an air mage… "

Again, the shamaness watches silently.

Kaela rubs at her nosepad a bit, trying to think. There must be something she can do… "If… if Three-Eyes frees the Twelve-times-Twelve… will they have to do what she says?"

The white-haired shamaness signs, "The Twelve-Times-Twelve, once freed, will be bound by no one by magic, but by loyalty they shall be obliged to follow the new rightful leader of our people."

Kaela pauses for a few moments. "How do you know who the rightful leader is?"

"Be aware," the elder Emerald-Eyes signs, "that there are certain transcendant laws and beliefs that may bind them very strongly, even to the point where they may doubt a Priest-King who does not fit their values."

Kaela blinks. She quickly signs, "Can the Twelve-Times-Twelve see me signing at them, while they're still trapped in stone?"

The white-haired shamaness signs, "Their awareness of the world around them is limited and yet broad. They may perceive things faintly abroad, but that about them just as faintly. You may find attempts to communicate with them to be most frustrating."

Kaela sighs a little bit and nods. "I don't know what else to do… I mean… I'll have to try to sign to them after Three-Eyes has revived them… but she'll be right there, and'll try to stop me… "

Again, Kaela is met with silence from the white-haired shamaness.

Kaela looks up at the shamaness. "Can you teach me to dance the dance better? Somehow? I'll practice all night every night until we get there… "

The shamaness nods. "If that is what you wish." There is another pause. "It may be a very long time before you can see me again in your dreams. I sense that I have been unable to give you much in the way of useful information. Is there anything I may be able to answer for you or show to you, of what I know and have experienced, while we yet have this time?"

Kaela blinks. "Why won't you be able to come back soon?"

"The magic used for the dreams I have woven for you has been created – by your perspective – so long ago. Magic can do wondrous things … and even provides me a way to speak to you beyond the grave, after a fashion … but even magic has its limits," the elder Emerald-Eyes signs.

Kaela swallows. "Will I… still be able to have the dancing lessons, after you're gone?"

The shamaness smiles and signs, "Your lessons are another aspect of what I have left for you. They use so much of what is already in your own mind to make them real. They will linger for much longer. Do not worry."

Kaela signs, "Can you… describe the ritual that a shaman could do? In case Storm-Hand gets well enough to perform it?"

Kaela mentally kicks Janus several times.

The shamaness pauses a long time, then shakes her head. "I cannot teach you to teach someone else what you yourself are not yet ready to understand. I am sorry."

"But the dances I know, I pass on to my own children," the shamaness continues. "Others of your people – those who still practice the magic arts – may yet remember it."

Kaela swallows hard. "Then… can you at least tell me what the ritual is called? Maybe she already knows it… " Her ears have begun to droop, though. Things are looking a lot less positive…

The shamaness signs, "It is the 'Dance of Dust and Ashes'."

Kaela nods slowly. "Thank you," she signs. "Is… there anything more that I should know?"

The shamaness strokes Kaela's cheek, then signs, "There are so many things you should know. But it is beyond me to know what will be important to you. The answers I leave for you have been signed ages ago. I cannot see what obstacles you face. I can only guess at hundreds of things you might ask me about, and rely on magic to fill in some of the gaps."

Kaela looks up at the elder Emerald-Eyes quickly, as something occurs to her. "After the first time I saw you… when I was waking up… you said something. Like, that I was the last one… or the only one… or something like that… What did you mean?"

The elder Emerald-Eyes smiles and signs, "You are very special. Each of us has been made for a purpose – and many purposes – but yours will have a great impact upon the future of our people for ages to come. It is a great burden, but I am confident you will carry it well."

Kaela pauses for a few moments. "Will I be able to dream about your life after you go? I mean, like I did before?"

The elder Emerald-Eyes answers, "If you would like to share another memory of my life, now is the time. After, I do not know."

Kaela fidgets a bit. "I… I should practice the dance… I don't have time now… " After a moment, she glances to Emerald-Eyes and quickly signs, "But before I do… do you know if the Creen airship is still there? I mean, somewhere? And do you know where? Where it is, I mean… "

The elder Emerald-Eyes signs, "Do you wish to see where it was? Whether it is still there, I cannot know. Without magic, it will be of little use to you."

Kaela nods softly. "I would like to see… but only for a minute or two. I have to practice the dance… "

The shamaness nods, and signs, "Then close your eyes, my daughter."

Kaela slowly closes her eyes, resting her hands in her lap.

A cane taps several times on Kaela's shoulder, followed by the sound of snapping fingers.

Kaela opens her eyes and glances about quickly.

Kaela is once more dressed in zolken finery, adorned in jewelry that would never be granted to a slave, for sure. The cane tapping on her shoulder belongs to an older cheetah in the white robes of the priesthood. "Hurry," he signs. "We are to send a message to our enemies, and it pleases our father that you should observe."

The Princess is kneeling in the courtyard, near some flowers. Perhaps she had been smelling them, and had closed her eyes while enjoying the scent, while the priest had approached her from behind.

Kaela nods softly, slowly rising to her feet. "All right," she signs, falling into step at the priest's side.

The priest nods, then starts striding out of the palace grounds, and toward the area at the base of the canyon wall. He approaches a structure built into the face of the canyon itself, and does not respond to a couple of warriors who bow as he and the Princess pass.

Kaela gives soft smiles towards the warriors as she hurries to keep up with the somewhat quicker gait of the priest.

The way leads down a corridor lit at intervals with torches mounted in shallow alcoves in the walls on each side. They pass doors, but they are all already open. And at last, past the final sliding stone door, the corridor opens up into a much larger chamber cut out of the rock deep within the canyon wall. Sunlight filters down from a large hole in the ceiling high above.

Kaela stops short to peer up towards that large hole. But after only a few moments of gawking she realizes that the priest has gained some ground on her, and so she hurries to catch up again.

Before the Princess is the Creen ship, suspended slightly above the floor, its boarding platform lowered. There are other "craft" in the chamber as well, though none quite as splendid in their decor, and generally smaller in size.

The other "craft" are circular in shape. And on those discs can be seen mage-priests dancing in multiple rings, working on multiple spells. The priest leading the Princess heads straight for the boarding platform of the "creen-ship", even as some of those "floating stages" begin to rise out of the cylindrical stone chamber, bearing members of the Twelve-Times-Twelve and the Twelve up to the jungle and beyond.

Kaela follows the Priest to the boarding platform, smiling a little bit. Her eyes go distant for several moments as she tries to mark the location of the cavern on her mental map of the City.

Kaela looks between the other, oddly shaped craft. She signs, "What sort of 'message' is Father going to send? And to whom?"

The priest looks to Kaela, and sighs, with a look that seems to say, "For the fourth time, but you never listen anyway… " and then he signs, "There are a stubborn little people whose name does not make any sense, who did not treat our emissaries with proper respect. Putting our emissaries' heads on poles is most certainly not proper respect," he signs, only taking an instant to deliberate about whether or not to share that last tidbit of grotesque information with the Savanite child.

Kaela fidgets a bit, but nods softly. You'd think that all the time she spent in the Priest-King's lair would have desensitized her to that sort of imagery, but no… "How far away are they?"

The priest signs, "Far. But we have spent long time in preparation for this event." The boarding platform finishes rising to meet the deck. The Creen-ship itself is now rising out of the cylindrical chamber, and up past the trees of the jungle, the City visible just over the edge where the ground drops off into the canyon.

Toward the back of the ship, a ring of mage-priests dance in a circle around a glassy orb embedded in the deck itself, with complex, rune-engraved fittings, fashioned such that it appears that several laquered hands are coming forth from the deck and clasping the orb in place.

Kaela glances about, through the various dancing bodies, in search of her father. He must be here somewhere…

The priest signs, "Come. You have practiced enough. It is time to see if you can take part in the dance, so that your ship will stay afloat and fly swiftly." There is no sign of the Priest-King on board this craft. Perhaps he is on one of the discs that already departed … but they are no longer in sight.

Kaela blinks! She swallows just a bit, but nods a little. "I'll try," she signs. Somehow she knew how to play the sitar before… and somehow, she feels like she could actually do that dance now…

Already, the giant "creen" is soaring along, just barely skimming over the treetops, and scaring up flights of true Creens who cry out and fly away – though a few actually try to keep up with the craft.

Kaela pads over to the circle of mage-priests. She pauses for several seconds to get a feeling for the rhythm before attempting to join the ring.

The Savanite kit blends in with the dance, as the other dancers shift position slightly to make room for her, but without missing a step. It seems so natural, as if she has danced this same dance for time upon time. Does the ship move a little faster when she joins in? Perhaps. Perhaps not very much. But she is still a part of this dance, and in some way she is helping this ship – her ship – to skim along, making the lands pass by a little more quickly.

And then … the scenery changes. It is no longer jungle, but rolling hills and fields, with running rivers, and clusters of trees that congregate near those rivers. Simple houses and buildings dot the countryside. And ahead can be seen a great walled city. But the sky above the Creen-ship is overcast, dark, rumbling with thunder and occasionally flashing with lightning. How much time has passed? Surely she hasn't been dancing for this entire period. Perhaps they stopped somewhere along the way, or paused to rest, but her legs ARE feeling a bit taxed.

Kaela lets her body follow the movements that seem to come so naturally… as she tries to record each movement in her mind. It may be important to remember this, someday… In fact, it's quite a surprise when she finally pays enough attention to her surroundings to notice that the scenery has changed.

Here and there, elsewhere in the storm, can be seen spots of light that move along, and then slow to hover in place as the stormfront rolls by to cover this green countryside. The dance about the orb on the Creen-ship reaches a new cycle – the ending cycle – and the dance is coming to a close. When it finally stops, the fatigue catches up with the Princess' legs. Although the dance has stopped, the Creen-ship still hovers in place, at tree-top level, at the crest of a hill.

The orb crackles and pulsates with energy still lingering from the dance, as the Creen-ship slows and stops where it hovers. The priests now just watch. The thunder rumbles with a voice in some strange language that the Princess cannot understand. It is an angry voice, and a proud one.

Kaela wobbles a bit as her legs begin to protest her weight more insistantly. She staggers over to the railing and holds on to it tightly, to relieve the strain on her legs.

Some strange winged creatures are retreating, some of them smoking, as if struck by something burning. Only now can the Princess notice a few flaming forms – surely creatures of the same sort – hurtling toward the ground, some distance away. The creatures, what can be seen of them, are very strange indeed – long, serpentine forms that fly upon THREE leathery wings apiece.

Kaela blinks a few times. She moves over towards the fore of the airship to get a better look, propping herself along with her hands on the railing.

The creatures retreat, flying past that walled city, and there's little more to see of them. There are more rumbles, and some of the flying creatures shriek and howl, and plummet from the air, even though nothing more has visibly struck at them. More rumbling, and then the lightning strikes become more frequent, to the point where a sheer curtain of blazing light bursts into existence, and begins scouring across the countryside, turning lush greenery into desolate waste of sand and rocks.

Kaela winces and shields her eyes from the fury of the onslaught.

"Behold the power of the Twelve and the Twelve-Times-Twelve," the priest signs. "This is what happens to our enemies, those lesser peoples who defy us."

"And, behold – the power of the Priest-King," the priest adds. Screams and shrieks emit from the walled city.

Kaela winces at the shrieks. To the priest she signs, "Is there to be no mercy for them?"

The priest signs, "An example is made of this city and of its land. The people of this city were proud, thinking themselves beautiful. But if they will not submit, then even that will be taken from them – and so it has. They shall now be an abomination, shunned even by their brethren who have not been touched so harshly." He shakes his head. "No mercy, save that they have not been completely obliterated from this land."

"But would it please you that any mercy be shown them, Princess?" the priest signs.

Kaela glances at the city, then back to the priest. She nods, signing, "We have killed many of them… razed their lands… damaged their city… What more could you wish to do to them?"

As the clouds continue drawing back, so too do the floating lights retreat. Below, barren sands roll as far as the eye can see, marked by little. The walled city still stands, though one can only guess what would be found within.

Kaela quietly signs, "Their disrespect has been repaid. And more." Then turns back to look over the new desert.

The priest's ears wiggle in laughter, but a half-mocking sort of laughter. "Very well then! No curse is proper without some means of dispelling it, many generations hence. Let us think of a means by which it may be dispelled… " He pauses to rub his chin thoughtfully.

The priest's ears wiggle, as he begins signing, making wide sweeping gestures with his hands as he forms the symbols, "Let it be! When one of royal Savan comes to one of royal {unknown sign} and are wed in the fullness of time, without knowledge of the spell, nor that it may be dispelled … and a great Healer takes upon himself the power of Those Who Came Before … and the Strangers stand in the sky … "

"Then shall the treasures of the {unknown sign} be given back to them anew," the priest proclaims, with a final rumble of thunder punctuating his last sign.

The priest looks to the Princess, then signs, "Now, let us return to the Palace." The priest-mages move back to the circle around the orb, and begin their dance. The priest adds, "But you may rest for now. You look tired."

Kaela nods a little bit. "Thank you," she signs, her legs complaining at even standing… But she puts up with the cramping; she knows how much her father would yell at her if she actually sat down on the deck of the airship…

As the land rushes by, the dream begins to become less tangible, and fades. It gives way to a dance hall. Her legs are not tired now. It's time for a new lesson. The music plays. The dance begins anew…

---

GMed by Greywolf

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