Trees stretch upward, their thick, broad leaves forming a canopy which does much to blot out the sun, except for pin-prick-thin rays of light that stretch down to strike the jungle floor, dancing with swirls of mist. Colorful Creens and exotic birds are frequently startled by this or that, or maybe they just feel like making their presence known, as they flutter from branch to branch, flying between the wooden buttresses and arches of this cathedral of the wilderness.
Through the dense foliage, a small spotted kit moves along, quickly, silently, stealthily, sometimes passing within inches of smaller jungle denizens without alerting them to her presence. Well, sometimes not, but it is evident this one knows her way through this jungle, and a growing light through the trees indicates that she must be coming closer to the edge of the jungle at the canyon … the canyon which houses the ancient ruins of the City of Hands.
Kaela quickly works her way through the jungle and to the canyon. She scans across the canyon to determine where that clump of jungle that hides the monastery is…
Here, the canyon can be seen … and the rushing river that winds below. The sky above is only partially clouded … certainly not that dreary gray that dominated the sky so much during the last trip here. But, then, with all of Kaela's dreams added, this is the way she is perhaps most familiar with seeing it as – without any of that strange "silent lightning" or any such thing. Still, there's something subtly different about the clouds that float by here. Maybe they change shape just a little more quickly than clouds would elsewhere. Maybe they adopt stranger shapes … or maybe it's just that they are being filtered through the expectations of an anxious kit with a lot resting on her shoulders.
As for where she emerges, she's SLIGHTLY off from the City, but she nonetheless quickly gains her bearings. This is a bit upriver of the City … and, actually, this may well be fortunate. At this point, there is a stone bridge which traverses the canyon, providing access clear across to the other side – where, downriver a bit, the monastery can be found.
The stone bridge is, from its structure, apparently made from a natural land bridge which formed across the canyon, but which was reinforced and built upon to add short walls on each side of the walkway to prevent accidental spills into the gorge, and also to reinforce the narrowest and weakest portion in the center. Many of the blocks have crumbled away and doubtless lie underneath the river far below, but it has survived the test of time well.
Kaela tests her weight upon the bridge cautiously before daring to move further out along its length. Who knows how long it's been here? How strong it still is…
No blocks fall away. Nothing bends or sways or gives any indication that the bridge is anything other than sturdy … any indication except all the cracks and crumbling portions here and there, and the choking vines that try to claim it for the jungle. Even a stubborn little seedling of a tree has put root into the bridge, about midway across its length.
Kaela quietly begins to walk along the bridge. Don't look down. Focus on the tree instead. How in the world can the tree survive out there in the middle of a stone bridge? Haji would love to see this…
As Kaela moves out across the bridge, the wind – no longer restrained by the trees – blows against the kit. However, her step is sure, and does not falter on account of the gusts. She is more than nimble enough to navigate the way across, even around the scary parts. At last – avoiding whatever scenic vistas might be available by scanning from the heights here – Kaela makes it across and to the other side.
Kaela takes a deep, calming breath, then turns and heads towards the jungle-shrouded monastery.
There is no trail to follow downriver to get to the monastery … but the canyon serves about as well as one could hope for a guidepost to avoid getting lost, if that were even a worry. Eventually, ruined buildings can be seen down within the canyon in greater frequency, built upon rocky shelves which extend at various elevations, testament to the changes of this river's width as it has cut its way downward through this rock over the ages. Kaela encounters a vine-covered stone hand … and, beyond … she can make out the tangled outline of the monastery.
Kaela hurries along and into the monastery, quickening her pace as she finally comes within sight of her destination.
The stone statues of Priest-Kings gone before still keep their vigil silently … proceeding down the ramp and into the darkness that even the ambient light from the jungle can't help, since there are no light sources at hand to be of use around the corner that the passage immediately turns at a T-section at the bottom of the ramp.
Good thing Kaela knows the way by heart. But, still, poking around in a pitch-black catacomb … when there might be creepy-crawlies lurking about … or enemies…
Kaela swallows hard. Why does she always forget to bring a light source when she comes here? She creeps through the tunnels as quietly as she's able, her ears twisting and swivelling to try to catch the slightest sound…
No strange sounds come to Kaela's ears. Even if her imagination were working overtime, her ears are keen enough and her head clear to be able to separate the fact from the fiction … well … more or less. A few more turns, a little bit further … and she's in the chamber with the statues and the hidden cache. The statue is in place.
Kaela reaches to pull on the statue's spear to open the cache…
With a familiar scraping noise, the statue slides to one side, making the cache accessible, even if Kaela can't actually see it. Its contents, upon inspection, are undisturbed since she last left them.
Kaela quickly strips out of her tunic and works her way into the dress. After verifying that it's at least vaguely on her, she settles the pendant of her necklace over the front of the dress, rather than hidden beneath it.
In the darkness, Kaela, with the zolken dress, the Star-Anchor-Star pendant and the emerald-and-pearl necklace, would look the part of Princess Emerald-Eyes … of course, if there were anyone to see her, that is.
Kaela turns, and begins to make her way out of the labyrinthine corridors beneath the monastery.
Even with the way familiar, it's still quite a bit of a journey in the pitch black darkness, but eventually the little Princess emerges at the entrance again. By the darkening light, the sun will be setting soon.
Kaela pauses for only a moment to glance around at the ruined buildings sprawled across the canyon, her eyes searching for any sign of the others… or Jezebel.
No sign can be seen in this part of the City of any activity. But then, the Palace and that other part of the City is around a bend in the canyon – either requiring a trek down to the ledge and a journey around, or else a bit of work through the jungle and to find another way down to the palace from the canyon wall there.
Kaela pauses a few moments in thought. Go here and risk being seen against the cliff wall, or find another way down? If she spends the time to look, the others might arrive first… Finally, she just heads to the backtracking path down the sheer cliff face.
The sky grows darker as Kaela at last makes it down to the City.
The shadows grow long, stretching through the canyon. The trail leads Kaela around the bend of the canyon … until she can see the other half of the City. The Palace grounds are still surrounded by dense foliage and a high wall, no sign of the Palace remaining. But there are flickering lights that become more evident, somewhere within that ring.
Kaela hurries along towards the palace grounds, being as quiet as she can, and trying to remain mostly in secluded areas.
The kit makes no sound as she makes her way along … but the sheen of her platinum-white zolken dress, and the glitter of her jewelry do not help very much.
Suddenly, two of the shadows rise from nearby ruins, taking the form of two humanoids, one at each side of the trail, bearing blackened spiked polearms.
Kaela freezes, swallowing. Jezebel's here already. She shouldn't have taken the time to visit the monastery…
Both of the shadowy figures bow to Kaela. No, they aren't phantoms. They're Savanite warriors, dressed in black, holding weapons of enamelled wood and broken chitin. How they simply seemed to step out of the shadows cast upon the stone walls themselves must surely have been just a trick of the fading light and the lengthening shadows.
Kaela blinks slowly, then moves out of her hiding spot. Doing her best to look dignified, she signs, "Hello." Somehow, she's not quite sure what to say to these two…
The two warriors make simple signs of greeting in reply, using the ancient Formal, each using just one hand, while keeping the other firmly grasping the polearm.
Faint sounds of music drift from the Palace ring, as the wind shifts direction "upstream" momentarily.
Kaela pauses, then pads towards the Palace ring, trying not to look terribly nervous and like she somehow belongs here.
The two guards bow again, as Kaela passes, doing nothing whatsoever to bar her passage.
As the kit continues, she can hear footsteps behind her. Judging by the lengthening shadow that accompanies hers, one of the guards is walking along behind her, while the other has remained at his post.
The path leads past several vine-entangled buildings, up to the arch that leads into the courtyard. The curtain of vines has been cleared away, allowing a view of what lies beyond – a display of flickering light and shadow, of dancers and of those who stand and watch silently, of real, living Savanites … and of phantoms.
Kaela doesn't pause. She steps into the clearing and looks about, working hard to look like she knows she belongs here. What's going on? She squints slightly through the dim light, trying to make out whether the Twelve Times Twelve are still trapped within the statues…
Within the great clearing that once comprised the Palace grounds, the circle of the Twelve-Times-Twelve still stands – stone hands, frozen in their original positions, alternating between facing inward and outward, one hundred and forty-four of them running around the depression that marks the former location of the Palace.
Kaela finally turns and looks towards the guard who's been following her. "What's going on here?" she signs – angling her hands slightly to denote a curious tone.
In the center of this crater, a fire-pit has been dug, and a large bonfire roars, its flames leaping and dancing along with the concentric circles of Savanite dancers who ring about it, their shadows stretching … and dancing of their own volition, each ring of real dancers joined by a ring of shadow dancers who head in just the opposite direction.
Around the fire itself, Jezebel dances, the only dancer who is not part of a ring. Her dance commands those around her, and even more than the music, commands its tempo.
The lone guard looks to Kaela and signs, "Your presence is a great honor, your Highness, come to witness the rebirth of your Empire. We diligently work to raise it again, like the days of old, which we know only by legends handed down by our ancestors."
The last bit of the sun dips below the horizon, blood red giving way to deep blue, and the shadows lengthening to such a point that they blend into darkness cast by the canyon itself and into that which covers the whole land – except for that blazing fire in the center of the crater, and the dim glow of the Procession and stars high above, as they peek past the intervening clouds.
The music reaches its climax, the dancers and shadows moving to the point of a frenzy. The air is filled with a tingling of magic, to the point where it's tangible – it's all around.
Kaela swallows a bit. She nods slightly at the guard, and remains at the perimeter of the palace area. She casually signs to the guard, "What magic are they performing?"
Now that there is no sunlight to cast conflicting shadows, the firelight makes long lines of the fingers of the Hands of the Twelve-Times-Twelve … and those shadowly lines begin to wave in much the same way as the tongues of flame in the center. A low rumbling can be heard – and felt – within the earth.
The guard reaches out to steady himself against an outer wall – even though the ground is not shaking enough to make anyone unstable – and only pauses long enough in that to sign, "The Twelve-Times-Twelve awaken!"
Kaela moves a little closer to the center of the ring, nodding to the guard.
Cracks show in the Hands … letting a faint glow leak outward. Jezebel raises her hand and the music stops – and the dancers stop as well, looking about in awe and confusion. Some begin to run away from the center, out of the ring of Hands.
The phantoms that remain slowly march and drift out, some still dancing as they go, rejoining the outer circle, blending in with the shadows that remain along the outer walls of the courtyard. At last, Jezebel is left alone in the center by the bonfire, standing proudly and triumphantly as she watches for the fruits of her labors – and schemes.
On the other side of the ring, an old light-furred cheetah looks up from her vaguely disapproving distraction to startledly watch what is happening. A young, almost kittenish-seeming guard stands near her dressed in black robes trimmed with red, holding a jug of some kind and some half-eaten fruits. Could that be Abana? And a servant Jezebel has assigned to watch over her?
Kaela does her best to press through the outer circle of dancers…
The outer circle disperses. Though there are many Savanites gathered along the stone walls surrounding the Courtyard, this open area which once housed an entire Palace – and gardens as well – has more than enough circumference to provide plenty of space for the audience that watches what might be the rebirth of their Empire.
The lights that shine through the cracking stone hands come in different colors, each Hand having a single hue, having a rainbow-like effect.
Kaela begins to dance, striving to perform the Dance of Dust and Ashes as best as she's able, with her hours of practice…
Several Savanites look in awe at the "apparition" who dances into the clearing. They make rushed signs to each other, offering their interpretations of this sign and omen.
The elderly cheetah looks around the scene with growing fear, her ears going back and her hackles raising. She signs to Jezebel, the only one she recognizes there, "Please stop, eldest daughter; something terrible will happen if this continues. Nothing good can come of magic… "
The forms of the Hands themselves begin to twist and contort in ways quite unlike the stone they should be, losing their solidity.
Jezebel turns toward Abana and signs, "No! You have abandoned the ancient ways, but I have come to take up our heritage, and to raise up the Empire from the dust and ashes once more! The Dance is finished – there is no turning back!"
One of the Hands, with a sound of rushing air, dissolves into a whirlwind of dust.
Kaela slows, and comes to a stop. She stands a fair distance from Jezebel, who apparently still hasn't noticed her. Luckily.
Abana looks… No, feels like a guttering torch barely flickering in the long light of the sunset. She signs, "Let these old bones rest, oldest daughter. The Empire is far older than I, and I… I am tired."
Another Hand bursts into flame, sending plumes of smoke high into the air. Yet another melts like ice, trickling outward and spilling into the barren earth. Another turns into a faintly glowing, ethereal wisp that spins in place. Yet another crumbles like no more than just stone, except it spills outward into fine sand.
One by one the Hands disappear, becoming displays of different elements and powers, magic long contained and finally let out with explosive force.
Worry creases Jezebel's brow. She signs, "What? Are they freed, only to destroy themselves? Where are the Twelve-Times-Twelve? Do not leave! STAY! I NEED YOU!"
Kaela smiles faintly. There's something reassuring about the thought that the Twelve Times Twelve may not return to life…
Forms of standing humanoids appear within the explosions of power – cheetahs in flowing robes, shadowed in the light of their own reemergence, but catching the light of the fire as the energies draw back within themselves, giving them form and substance once more. Every other one faces inward or outward, one hand upraised in a sign of warding.
Kaela emits a quiet sigh. Somehow she didn't think it'd be quite that easy. She keeps one eye on Jezebel.
The old Savanite woman looks around at the Hands again… Or where they were, and now are reborn. She looks up with a near-visible gasp, then presses back against her stoney chair, as if trying to hide from their gaze. The servant near her pours another cup of some wine-looking liquid and proffers it to Abana.
One hundred and forty four robed mage-priests encircle the crater. The ones facing outward turn back in, to see who has released them from their self-imposed captivity. And they see next to the bonfire a wild-eyed cheetah sorceress who seems to be doing all she can to resist simply hopping around in glee.
Jezebel signs, "I am Third-Eye, heir to the Priest-King, keeper of the Dance."
Kaela quietly pads towards Jezebel from behind, stopping only a foot or two behind her, to one side.
Jezebel doesn't evince the slightest notice of Kaela's presence, drinking in the moment as she has these ancient mage-priests' attention focused on her, and (so she presumes) her alone.
Kaela remains utterly silent, waiting to see what happens next. She doesn't want to interfere unless she has to… at least, not until she has a better grasp of what these interactions with the ancient Priest-Mages are going to be like…
Jezebel gestures toward the stone seat where Abana remains. "Mother! Now is the time. Give me your blessing, before the Mage-Priests. It is my right, by birth – and by my taking up of the Dance, which your mother taught me."
Something in Jezebel's expression seems to suggest an "or else"…
The Twelve-Times-Twelve stand silently and still … as if they had not been truly released, but had merely been reshaped into forms of Savanite men, with flesh of stone.
Kaela pauses for a few moments, then signs, "Hello," to the Twelve-times- Twelve. She figures that nobody's watching her, and so won't look terribly silly if they don't react to her, either.
The older Savanite shrinks back before Jezebel's call, her eyes fixed on the unearthly gaze of the Twelve-Times-Twelve. "I am only a tired old woman," she signs. "If there is blessing in me to give, it is only that, not the power to waken or command legends, not the blood of Priest-Kings. Please… Spare my youngest, Emerald-Eyes. Do not ask this of me… "
Jezebel, not noticing Kaela, stands between her and Abana, signing, "No more delays! Give me your blessing, so I may rule! Even if you do not believe, then let ME believe! Let me take up that which you have abandoned! This is not a time for old women to step upon the dreams of their children, to condemn entire Empires because they are tired!"
Kaela moves a slight step to one side. Enough so that she can see her mother. She tries to make eye-contact with her…
One of the Mage-Priests focuses his eyes on Kaela. Something looks vaguely familiar about him. Perhaps he'd look more familiar if he were dancing. He still stands in that awkward position, hand held high in a sign of warding, but … his ears wiggle once, and his eyes crinkle in a smile, just as Kaela's gaze goes to Abana.
"Promise that you will not hurt Emerald-Eyes," Abana signs, her gestures creaking but a firmness in her eyes. "Promise on your word as Empress… " Her gaze slips past the shamaness to a robed and dressed figure, and then her hands fall as she draws in a breath of shock. She looks so familiar… Is that kitten one of the Twelve-Times-Twelve?
Jezebel straightens up, and signs, "As Empress, I shall allow no harm to fall upon my kitten sister." There's no mistaking the conditional phrasing of that statement, though.
Kaela looks back towards the Mage-Priests. She blinks slowly at the one that's been looking at her, then a smile appears on her own lips. Looking back to her mother she signs (from well behind Jezebel), "You would trust the word of one who sold you into slavery?" She makes the signs rather large and openly, in the hopes that both her mother and the Mage-Priests will pick up on them. And any other nearby Savanites who happen to be looking. ;)
Jezebel signs, "On my word! Now, delay no longer." She, of course, has no clue about what is being "said" behind her back.
Abana looks confused. She signs back, "How do you know… " Then motions to the young servant to help her up. Her tail lashes uncertainly.
Jezebel now looks confused as well. "How do I know?" she signs. "Don't lose your mind on me! Bless me now, before you lose your senses completely!"
The servant lays down the jug of wine and the fruit upon a tray, then reaches down to help Abana to her feet. She leans against him, but she walks – that far the healing went to help her. She walks slowly, advancing toward the circle of the Twelve-Times-Twelve, Jezebel, and the rebirthed image of Emerald-Eyes…
Kaela smiles up at Abana before glancing back towards the Mage-Priests.
The Twelve-Times-Twelve stand silently, spaced well apart from each other, leaving plenty of space between them to allow entrance into the ring that surrounds the Palace-sized crater. They watch. Other than that one ear-wiggle earlier, they betray no emotional responses, but their full attention is surely focused upon those within the ring.
Jezebel's ears flick. She slowly realizes that Abana is not looking at her … and turns around to see just what has her attention. Her ears flatten back and she hisses as she sees the intruder into the circle. Despite the costume, she recognizes her own little sister, having not distance and mist and shadow to obscure her features.
"How did you get here?" Jezebel angrily demands, sparing only a moment to peer out to the crowd of her supporters in the shadows, in hopes the offending guard will feel her unapproving gaze.
Kaela smiles at Jezebel softly. "I walked," she signs. "It's nice to see you again, sister."
Jezebel tries to regain her composure. "Tell Mother to give her blessing to me. The Twelve-Times-Twelve have returned, and with them, our Empire is reborn!"
Kaela blinks slowly, then looks towards the stone-still Mage-Priests. "Returned? Are you certain?"
"Emerald-Eyes? Daughter Emerald-Eyes? Is that you?" Abana signs to Kaela. She reaches out with a hand from where her servant is 'deferently' propping her up, to her young kitten who has mysteriously turned into a princess all of a sudden.
"Of course I'm certain," Jezebel signs angrily. "Look for yourself! They await their leader." Her ears flick, and she breaks off at Abana's approach.
Kaela smiles at her mother. "It's me," she signs. Glancing back to Jezebel, she nods and signs, "When do you suppose their leader will arrive?" Her ears wiggle slightly.
Jezebel doesn't look amused. "Watch my hands, kitten. This is no time to play games," she signs.
Kaela shrugs softly. "You think the Mage-Priests will follow you just because you can threaten your own mother enough to force her to give you her blessing?" That gets a bit of an ear wiggle as well. "You must not think much of them to think they wouldn't realize it." Of course, her signs aren't terribly small, just in case they hadn't realized it.
Jezebel looks increasingly agitated. She looks out to the Mage-Priests, and signs, "You can put your hands down! The old Priest-King is gone, and I am his rightful heir. The Dance has been forsaken, but I have taken it up on my own. I am ready to rule! It is my right!"
Abana looks up and around at the circle of the Twelve-times-Twelve, all looking inward as if waiting for something. She trembles, then holds up her hands. "Daughters… Do not fight. These are our legends, and if the stories are true, they gave their lives to stop a great wrong. We must honor them."
The Twelve-Times-Twelve slowly lower their hands, folding their fingers from the signs of Warding. They still watch, seeming still as statues again, save for the breeze which stirs their robes and drapes.
Kaela moves over to her mother and smiles up at her a bit before looking back to the statues. "We must do more," she signs. "We must also see that… that this," she signs, vaguely gesturing at the ruins about them, "never happens again."
Abana nods slowly, then turns to the circle of the Twelves-Time-Twelve, her hands moving creakily through the signs of Formal Savanite. "Great ones out of legends, see the words of a simple old woman, if you will. I am Creensong, seventh daughter of the great shamaness Treewalker, who claims the bloodline of Malachite. But I am no Priest-Queen, nor even a priestess. My hand does not rise to claim a staff, my eyes do not look over the horizon to the Procession… "
The Twelve-Times-Twelve focus their attention on Abana's hands – Even those to whom her back is turned perhaps can see her signs in their own way.
"My dreams are small ones, sun and something warm for my belly and a comfortable place to rest." Her ears wiggle, a small laugh. "Before you are two of my daughters, the eldest of my seven and the youngest. They have come to greet you as you wake to a new world, Twelves-Time-Twelve. They bear new dreams, dreams of the Empire that was and may be again. But Great Ones, I cannot choose for you. Will you watch their words?"
Abana leans on the young Savanite next to her, weary with the effort of forming such a speech to such people out of legends.
In unison, the Twelve-Times-Twelve sign, "We will." The gaze of the more than hundred Mage-Priests drifts from Abana … to her two daughters.
Kaela glances to Jezebel, standing very still, and suddenly looking rather nervous.
Jezebel stands proudly, signing, "I have not forgotten the ancient legends! I have not forgotten the glory of our people, even though we have been forced to live simple lives, calling those who are borne on air-ships 'Sky Gods' out of ignorance. I have striven to reunite our scattered peoples, and I will continue to do so – with your help – as leader of an Empire reborn!"
Jezebel continues, "I do not pretend to be someone I am not. I do not dress in a costume to impress you. I do not obey the races who wish to subjugate us. And, I do not forsake the Dance. Behold! You stand here again today, because of my practice of the Arts. I am of age – not a mere kitten." With that, she glances sideways toward Kaela, and lets her hands rest. "Your turn," her glance suggests.
Abana looks to her daughters, her breath slight. Her eyes say more than hands to Kaela, motherly love watching her youngest daughter hold her hand out toward a choice that Abana cannot make for her, nor protect her from.
Kaela stands much less proudly. She quietly moves her hands in soft signs, "I was not taught our ancient legends, for my village was betrayed, and sold into slavery before I was of age." She doesn't mention who did the betraying. At least, not yet. "All I know has been through the Princess Emerald-Eyes, who came before me… in my dreams she showed me the Empire as it was, before the Fall… and as it happened." She pauses for a few moments to collect her thoughts before continuing.
Jezebel's eyes narrow, and she sucks in a breath, but she keeps her hands still, not interrupting Kaela's signs.
Kaela signs, "I don't want to rule… but I didn't confront the old Priest- King with his crimes and cause him to join the Procession just so that a new power-hungry leader might replace him." She sighs a little bit, her eyes slightly downcast. "I've been a slave for most of my life… I don't want a rebirth of the Empire… at least, not as it was before… as Emerald-Eyes showed it to me. I just want a safe home for our kind who have been enslaved elsewhere. A place where we can again be free, and safe from the slavers, and rebuild our lives."
Abana smiles at Kaela. Her ears wiggle as she looks up to the ruined buildings: indeed as Kaela promised, she has seen the city, though perhaps this was not how her youngest daughter thought to take her there.
Kaela lowers her hands and gives Abana a faint smile before lowering her gaze.
Jezebel fumes, her furious expression unhidden. "Look! See what a fool she is! She would throw away the Empire! I am the rightful choice… " she signs, panning her gaze across the still figures who ring the crater.
"Traitor!" Jezebel signs, hands shaking, pointing as much at Abana as Kaela. "You aren't fit to LIVE!"
The Twelve-Times-Twelves' hands move, but they seem to be conferring amongst themselves, along the ring, their signs directed to each other … and defying interpretation by those within the ring or without.
Kaela doesn't reply to Jezebel. She just stands still, waiting for the Twelve-times-Twelve's decision.
The Mage-Priests stop their signing. One alone signs to those in the center, "Much has changed in the world. Never has there been precedent for the decision we are asked to make, and we will not make it carelessly. We have decided to test each of you."
Jezebel glowers at this, but stands straight, watching for more.
Kaela looks up, blinking slowly and watching the Mage-Priests' signs.
The priest continues, "Our Empire has slept for centuries, without a Priest-King. It can wait a year more. Each of you – choose among us one who will test you – one who will accompany you and then return with his findings."
"In the meantime," the representative signs, "we shall hide this city. Only you two shall have the means by which to enter it, or to grant that others may enter."
Jezebel's face contorts. She's not happy.
Kaela nods slowly. "All right," she signs. She stands rather still, letting Jezebel choose one of them first.
The representative continues, "We shall remain in the City, to perform our duties – and our duties alone. We will not meddle in your affairs, nor shall we venture outside this City – save for the testers to follow you, if you should leave – and we will not deal with those outside."
"However," the priest signs, "we do not forget that you each have done us one great boon – Emerald-Eyes in putting to rest the Priest-King, and Third-Eye in waking us from our long slumber. You may each ask one thing more of us."
Jezebel narrows her eyes, scrutinizing the priests, eyeing the emblems of their station and realms of influence.
Jezebel defers to Kaela. "Let my sister make her choice first," she signs.
Kaela nods softly. She doesn't even hesitate before padding over to the familiar-looking Mage-Priest and signing to him, "Would you be my tester?"
The priest nods and smiles to Kaela, his ears wiggling. "Of course, Princess."
Kaela smiles up at him.
Jezebel walks up to one of the Mage-Priests. "You," she signs, "are a master of the Dances of Mind?"
The priest nods, and signs, "That is true."
Jezebel signs, "Then I choose you. You will know better than anyone that I do not lie to you, and you will see the truth in me." She glances over her shoulder, giving a confident, smug look to Kaela.
The representative nods at the choices. "Then, what of the boon? Ask what you will, and then we will begin our dance to hide the City."
Jezebel signs, "If you would permit me, I do not wish to ask anything of you at this time. I have accomplished my mission – to free you – and my concern is to pass your test. Please allow me to wait until later to ask any favor of you." Behind those eyes of hers, surely she's already mulling over the many requests she would love to make of them right now.
The representative looks to Kaela.
Kaela quietly signs, "My mother has been afflicted with a magical sickness… the healers don't how to cure her… Emerald-Eyes said it was a curse that passed through our family line… that may have passed when the Priest-King joined the Procession. But my mother still ails from it, despite the aid of a life-mage in Rephidim. All I would ask of you is to try to heal her, as no others have been able to… "
Abana looks up, startled. "Daughter," she signs. "You don't have to… "
Jezebel's ears pale for some reason.
The representative nods to Kaela. "As you have asked, so we shall do," he signs.
Kaela looks back over to Abana and gives her a gentle smile. "It's what I want, Mama," she signs.
Some of the Mage-Priests move forward – those who bear emblems which – if one were properly trained to know the meaning – would identify them as specialists in the Sphere of Life.
Jezebel quietly slips out of the crater, heading out to the surrounding courtyard to confer with her allies.
"I have lived long enough to see my youngest daughter stand in the dress of a Princess of our people, in the city where once we were great," Abana signs slowly, then smiles as she strokes Kaela's cheek. "You have a great heart, my daughter. If only all had such hearts."
The healers approach Abana to examine her. One of them nods seriously, and signs, "This will take many days, but it can be done. She must rest for now, and we will treat her once we have hidden the City."
The older cheetah signs to the priests, "For my daughter, Emerald-Eyes, I will go with you. I would like to see when she comes to the City again, a year from now… " She smiles faintly. "A mother likes to see her children grow up, but it makes her very sad also, because they need her less."
"But do not forget," Abana teases her daughter with a wiggle of her ears. "If these bones of mine grow less stiff, then I shall be well enough to nag you to be good until you begin to wonder if you asked rightly." Then, she holds her hands out to the priest-healers to be led away.
Kaela nods a few times. "That's fine," she signs, smiling. "But I won't be able to leave the City… or at least, I won't be able to go back to Rephidim… they think I've escaped… they'll kill me if they find me… "
The healers lead Abana out of the circle, pausing only a moment in the outer courtyard, as the gathered Savanites part way to let them past. One of the cheetahs in the outer region signs, however, "We have set up camp here, and have a shelter where she may rest." The male Savanite looks to Abana and Kaela as if for approval.
Jezebel strides up, signing, "She may have my bedroll." She looks to the healers to make doubly sure that her gesture of generosity is not overlooked.
Kaela nods slightly at the healers, smiling. "Thank you," she signs.
Abana looks back over her shoulder to Kaela with a smile, then walks quietly away with the healers. It little matters to her where she sleeps, only that her youngest daughter is well.
Meanwhile, back around the crater, the remaining of the Twelve-Times-Twelve have already begun their dance, and are well underway.
The former dancing instructor taps Kaela's shoulder lightly to gain her attention.
Kaela looks up at the dance instructor and smiles at him a little bit.
"Well, young Princess who remarkably resembles one I knew long ago," the instructor signs. "I am Icelight, a teacher of the Dances of Water. And for the coming year, I will accompany you on your travels. You understand of course, that I do not mean that we shall travel only to city's edge and back, in solemn observation of the decaying of our city's once fine architecture… " His ears wiggle. "What difficulty prevents you from travelling to Rephidim?"
Kaela shakes her head. "They know me… if I looked different… but I would have to become a slave again… "
"You have asked us to make for you a shelter where those who are now enslaved may be again free," Icelight observes. His is the intellectual gaze of one who has never known slavery, never seen the entire race of Savanites oppressed by others. He signs, "We must know the extent of this, whether this is the proper solution… Or whether your sister's call to arms is preferable. We must go forth and if necessary, seem slaves ourselves, Princess. But I will be with you, never fear."
Kaela nods softly, thinking. "All right… but it will be difficult… we wouldn't be sold together… Unless we were lucky."
"Sold?" Icelight looks lost.
Kaela signs, "At Rephidim, we are slaves. Property. They sell us at auction to serve whoever will pay the most for us."
Icelight looks back to the dancers enacting some ritual. He signs, "Let us go to Eye-to-Star Point," gesturing to the cliff that overlooks the City of Hands. "We will have a good view from there. This will be something that you should see. And you may tell me more of what we will need to do, Princess."
Kaela nods slightly. "All right," she signs, beginning to follow him towards the point he'd indicated.
Icelight takes Kaela's hand and leads her upward, walking slowly. With his other hand he signs, "I would hope that I would command a good price." He keeps his face straight, but his ears wiggle. "Is there anything we can do to ensure that we will be kept together?"
Kaela considers that for a short time as they walk. "I'm not sure… " She thinks some more.
Icelight nods and walks up the sloping path. "You will think of something, Princess," he signs. "Tell me about what it is like to be a slave on Rephidim… "
Kaela walks along quietly. "Well… it depends on who your master is… I was lucky." She walks another short ways without signing anything, then signs, "I was really little when they took us… so they let me stay with Mama… but all my sisters were sold to others… and I've only just begun to find some of them again… "
After a long walk, the Mage-Priest and Princess stand at a vantage point that gives a wide view of the canyon, and of the City of Hands nestled on a shelf on the opposite end. Above, the clouds begin to gather in, accompanied by rumbles of thunder and flashes of lightning. Jungle creatures scurry away in search of cover, though the Mage-Priest looks unafraid.
Kaela looks over at the Mage-Priest. "They're summoning the storm?"
Icelight nods to Kaela. It still seems like a foreign concept to him. A Savanite – one of the People – being treated as merely property? "We will hide the city so that outsiders' eyes will not think to look here."
Even though the clouds pile up, the stars and Procession are not completely obscured from view. They seem to mostly gather over the canyon. And then … the earth begins to tremble faintly. There are red flashes in the clouds, and points of light like burning coals begin to streak down from the air. The river rages below, churning and twisting like a living snake that may rise from the bed and snap at the sky. Shadows pulls themselves away from the forest, forming phantoms that stretch outward toward the City … joined by faintly glowing wisps that rise from the ruins, resembling Savanites of old.
Kaela blinks! She swallows hard, watching the pyrotechnics.
In the following cataclysm, the canyon begins to crumble, and the City is destroyed in a tumult of fire, water, rock and storm, phantoms and ghosts tearing at it, and the jungle itself encroaching to take its place.
And then … it is gone. The clouds retreat, the rumbling stops, and all is still and silent, save for the sound of the water rushing by below. And of the City, there is no sign. Only tangled vegetation and collapsed stone shelves.
Kaela looks up at Icelight. "Illusion?"
"There wasn't anyone still down there, was there?" Envoy asks out loud, having walked over from the treeline when the ground began to shake.
Icelight watches the display of magical power. "Very nice," he signs. "Though perhaps the shadows were a bit too melodramatic – " His ears perk up at the sudden sound.
Kaela looks about quickly, relaxing a bit as she spots Envoy.
Envoy looks over the tall Savanite, and asks Kaela, "Are you alright? Is this one of the Twelve times Twelve?" She's reasonably sure the ancient cheetah wouldn't understand her language if he was one of the mages…
Icelight signs to Kaela, "Who is this? Can she be trusted?"
Kaela signs, "She's Envoy. You can trust her." Can't he? She smiles at Envoy tentatively.
Envoy smiles back, and signs, "Hello," to the tall cheetah.
"What is she saying?" Icelight signs. He stands straight in his white robes which have collected only a faint patina of trail-dust around the hem, a Savanite who has never known indignity. "Ah! You sign the language of the People very well, Envoy."
Envoy signs, "Thank you. If you are one of the Twelve-times-Twelve, I extend my gratitude for your quick and selfless actions to confine the mad Priest- King."
Icelight signs, "It was necessary for our people."
Kaela nods to Icelight slightly, then blinks.
Kaela signs, "If Envoy owned us already… we could stay together… But that wouldn't really show you what slavery was like, except by watching others… "
Envoy blinks at Kaela. "Why do you want to see slavery again?" she signs.
Icelight watches Kaela and Envoy with great curiosity. He signs, "It would indeed seem redundant for one who is already a slave to be sold again," again with a straight face but amused ears.
Kaela looks to Envoy. She signs, "It's… a long story… "
Envoy signs, "Kaela is only a slave in Rephidim."
Envoy turns to look at Kaela.
Kaela signs, "I don't know what we could do… First, I would have to look different from before… if anyone recognized me… "
Envoy blinks. "You mean to return to Rephidim, don't you?" she signs.
Kaela nods to Envoy. "He wants to see what has happened… "
Envoy blinks three times, and drops her hands while she considers this.
Kaela watches the two.
Envoy eventually signs, "He will need to learn the spoken language of Rephidim first. What other arrangements must be made before you arrive there?"
"That can be arranged," Icelight signs. "And if Rephidim is where we must go, then there we shall go." To Envoy he signs, "It appears that I shall be travelling with Princess Emerald-Eyes for some time. It should be quite the adventure, don't you think?" His ears twitch. "I am Icelight, teacher of the Dances of Water, and yes, of the Twelves-times-Twelve. I wonder what stories they tell about us these days?"
Envoy bows, "Welcome to this age, Icelight." She both signs and speaks aloud now.
Icelight twitches his ears at the speech. "Marvelous," he signs. "You will be an excellent teacher, Envoy. I see many long hours filled with one person 'speaking' and the other listening – not that the other has a great deal of choice in the matter." His ears wiggle again.
Kaela shakes her head. "I haven't heard any of the stories," she signs. "My sister, Storm-Hand, would know. All I know is what Emerald-Eyes saw, and that she showed me… "
"Ah, fame," the white-robed cheetah signs in an amused gesture to Kaela. "Far less enduring than stone."
Kaela gives him a little smile. "I think that the only way we could certainly stay together, but still be slaves, would be if we let Envoy be our owner… or if I was as little as a kit, and you my mother… " After a few moments of consideration, she adds, "Or if somehow we were simply sold to someone… instead of being put up for auction… "
Icelight looks down at his robes. "Somehow, I suspect that I would make a poor mother, dear Emerald-Eyes." Ear-laugh.
Envoy signs/says, "I could not house or support you both. But I can fly ahead and try to arrange a suitable owner."
Kaela grins at Icelight.
Icelight points out reasonably, "If you fly ahead, you will not be able to teach me this common language of Rephidim, Envoy."
Kaela pauses, then signs, "There are also good owners, and poor owners… some are very… cruel."
Envoy smiles to Icelight, and signs, "We have time for that yet. Our airship will not be returning for some days."
Envoy signs, "And there is work I must do in the City of Hands, if it still exists."
Icelight pauses, then looks over to Kaela. It must be her choice to grant Envoy entry or not.
Kaela pauses in thought for several moments. She finally signs, "It would be bad to go there."
Kaela adds, "Except, perhaps, alone. Without the others."
Envoy signs/says, "I do not think any of the others have the patience for the work."
Envoy adds, "It would be good for you to learn how to use the chamber though, Kaela."
Kaela nods softly. "All right, then. You must tell no one of what you see."
Icelight gets a quizzical look. He signs, "Which chamber do we speak of? Surely not the 'Chamber of Polite and Gentle Persuasion'… "
Kaela blinks at Icelight. "The one with the maps… "
"Ah. We have many of those," Icelight signs. "Are you seeking a map of any particular place?"
Envoy signs to Icelight, "In this day, none know how to plot the paths of the sky islands save the Captain-Astromancer of Rephidim, and he is limited to knowing only Rephidim's course."
Icelight's eyebrows go up. The white-robed cheetah signs, "It appears the succeeding ages have not been a great improvement on our times. How much more has been lost, I wonder? Still, I know the chamber of which you speak. It was the project of the Priest-King Starbrow, who believed that in understanding the proper motion of all things, in the heavens and of this world, we would come to greater understanding." He seems used to falling into a lectorial attitude. "As all things move in their proper orbits, so do we of the Savan rise… " His hands trail off, and then he signs, "But the world has changed."
Envoy signs, "To stop changing is to die."
Icelight signs, "Not all changes are to one's likings. This is no longer the world that we of the Twelve-Times-Twelve lived in." He looks from the cliff view over the destroyed city to the night-black surrounding jungles, and then back again. "But wheels and orbits may return to whence they began. There is much to think on." He pats Kaela's shoulder and signs to her, "Let us go down to the City, then."
