Of many separations and Diran’s realization of flight.

It was midday again and Diran’s gaze shifted anxiously about. His resolve was to seize upon his first opportunity, but he hadn’t an inkling of when that might be. So, he found himself exploring the land around the mills he had once called his quarters. There were, in places, ashes where some fire had caused a stir, but newer structure had been built atop the ruins.

As he turned a corner onto the main road that ran through the mill district, he came across the plump form of Gomus, who, noticing the lanky scoundrel, eyed him up. “Diran,” he grumbled, “that was quite the show you put on yesterday.”

Diran shifted from one foot to another and replied, avoiding eye contact, “Ah…Gomus, sir. I fear I was stricken with a frightful madness for lack of drink, Khoba can attest.” At that, Gomus smirked, “Yes…Khoba, I’ve been meaning to see the lass myself.”

Diran felt unease stir within him but he forced it down. “Have you yet found the snooper?” he asked suddenly. Gomus’s face twitched and he sighed a deep, rumbling sigh, “No, they’ve eluded even the city watch. But I will find them, nobody escapes my eye.” Diran nodded in assent and began to make his escape, “Aye aye, sir. Well, I must be on my way, I wish you good hunting!” Gomus snorted and let the him scamper off down the road. Then the enormous man carried himself over to his nearby office.

Having little to do, Diran thought to pay a last visit to Father Polmer, who, when approached, seemed as if he had expected the thief. The old man shifted over and motioned for Diran to be seated and the two sat in contemplation for some time. Diran started, “I think I will go to paradise,” and then he looked to the elderly creature, as if for some approval. After a beat, he continued, “Please tell me, even if I do succeed, will I have made the right choice? What regrets will haunt me until my dying days?”

Father Polmer let a kind smile settle across his face and then, from a sack at his side, produced a rather heavy bag that jingled about. He handed it to the bewildered Diran and then said softly, “Go to Khoba and you will know.” Diran looked into the bag, which contained a great number of coins, of which many Diran recognized. “You…,” he started, staring in amazement at the man whose hair was gray all over and yet radiated a powerful luster. Then Diran shot to his feet, “I will go now, Father!” Without waiting for reply, Diran felt a rush of energy as he urged his legs to carry him swiftly to the Margaes.

It was nearly night before the storefront came into view and Diran saw three people gathered by the door. One he recognized immediately, from his immense form, as Gomus and he stood before Khoba the barmaid and Jun, who was her wife. Jun cut an imposing figure; she was a good head taller than Khoba such that she could see eye-to-eye with Diran himself. Here, she stood confronting Gomus who stalked the grounds in front of them.

Diran called out, “What goes on here?” as he slowed to a walk to approach the group. Khoba shook her head and replied, “No worries, be on your way!” but then Gomus turned and a wide grin crawled across his face. “Diran my boy, help me out why don’t you? You know Khoba well, you might resolve our dispute.”

Diran faced Khoba and she said, “It’s the rent—he’s nearly doubled it.” Gomus scoffed at the barmaid, “So what’s it going to be, you scrawny rat?” At once, Diran stepped forward and thrust the generous bag into Gomus’s arms, “Sir, take this and be off!” The imposing landlord was stunned for a moment and then reached with a pudgy hand into the bag. His keen eye made out the coins and after a few moments passed, he looked up with an acerbic smile, “Well, what luck, just about enough.” He took a single coin from the bag and, with expert aim, flicked it at Khoba’s forehead, “Keep the change.” She flinched as the landlord turned and walked away with a harsh chuckle.

Jun looked to Diran, “I see you’ve recovered since last night.” He smiled at the lady who donned a dull grey smock that was greatly stained. Her chocolatey hair was done up with a charming ribbon and she always made a strong impression upon Diran by the dignified air with which she carried herself. He nodded, “Khoba rendered me great aid.”

Jun looked to Khoba, then to Diran, and nodded, “I shall take my leave, you have my thanks for your assistance.” She bent down and took the coin that lay in the dust, then she retreated indoors; Diran had not thought to pick it up so he was not of mind to stop her.

When the two friends were alone, there fell a deep quiet and the two were with their thoughts for some time. Diran spoke up and his words travelled as through molasses, “I feel it, that today I shall take flight.” He gazed at the ground awkwardly, unsure of how to face those left behind.

Khoba asked, “You shall not return,” although her tone was more statement than question. “I don’t think it possible,” he replied sadly for, as unlovable as the land was, its people had fostered him, so he continued, “but there are doubts still within me and I fear they will bind me in my most crucial moment.” A quiet passed between the two who had spent their lives in solidarity and then Khoba stepped forward and Diran looked up.

‘THUD!’

Khoba struck Diran hard with a clenched fist. He was, by a slim margin, the stronger of the two but had not braced himself for her attack. He could only gasp, “Wha- “, and then Khoba struck him once more.

‘THUD!’

He recoiled and held his chest, which hurt deeper than her blows. He heard Khoba shout, “Then go, fool! See that there is no place for you here and go!” She threw a punch again but it was weakened. At that moment, a streak of white flashed across the sky and he glanced upwards as an ethereal light descended.

He felt the barmaid’s hand on his back and heard her voice, which was shaking desperately, “Find your Atlantis.” She pushed him away and, in that moment, he felt as if she had granted his feet wings. He shouted, louder than he ever had before, “I shall, oh I shall, Khoba! I shall find paradise, wherever it is!” And then he knew she was left far behind and could no longer hear him.

He chased after Thizen with immense vigor but soon lost sight her luminous form that had descended somewhere close-by. Racking his mind, he thought to consult the wise Father Polmer, on whose advice he would occasionally rely. He turned and cut through an alley to seek out the old creature who often slept on dirt. He recalled that Polmer found pleasure in herbs that stirred the memory and thought it unfortunate he had not carried any on his person that night.

Then, a great sound broke the night air,

‘CLACK!’

Diran felt a great unease grip his soul as he hastened his step. He emerged onto a hazy street and his eyes fell upon two figures in the dark. “Father Polmer!” he called out to the shadow and at that moment his eyes met the icy gaze of the tyrant princess, whose veil fluttered gracefully in contrast to her surroundings. She stood over the slumped form of the old rat, whose gaze had gone dim. A stray gust of wind caused a card to loose itself from his grip; it skittered across the street and all else was silent for a time.

Then Diran, who wore a profound grief, stepped forward, “And what is this? What have you done? Father Polmer is slain! Cruel tyrant princess, what drove your hand to hurt a man so helpless?” Tears streaked the thief’s face as he assailed the noble. Thizen, whose pale dress was still unsullied beside the dead man, was quiet but her shock was evident with how she stood back as if struck. Then she gazed up into the sky and began to rise, not as the eagle does, with a leap and flap of wings, but as something on stage might be lifted by pulley. In the dim, dusty light, her elegant figure was almost luminous and the silver serpent that wound around her neck nearly struck him still with its sparkling charm.

All of a sudden, he recalled his mission and, with a great cry, Diran dashed forward and tore open his breast pocket, taking hold of the silver thread. He bounded forth and cast the line like a fisherman and it flew in such an arc that he felt it might have been carried true on the wind by some unseen hand for, as soon as the thread grazed the shoe which, as he had thought, was a luxurious velvet, he felt his own feet lift off the ground. He took both hands and braced to keep hold of the thread, but there was no force on his arms.

Diran was struck with the feeling that his body weighed no more than the air itself and glanced down to witness the land rapidly receding into the night. Suddenly, he remembered Lami’s words and gazed upwards towards the murderer above. He was greatly relieved when it seemed that she failed to notice his trickery but then, as he inwardly mocked her arrogant indifference, their eyes met.

The wind, which was so much stronger in the sky, had blown the veil above her crest and it was then as if all the world stood still. He saw her brilliant blue eyes widen and her mouth, around which the lips were a striking crimson, was agape so that he could barely see that her teeth were white like a string of pearls. Her serpentine necklace seemed to come alive in the night sky and it danced about her neck with radiant reflections.

He heard her gasp loudly in disbelief and her air of aloof dignity was broken for a moment. She moved to be rid of him and the two became locked in a struggle as the princess swung about wildly to shake herself free. For the first time he properly appreciated her voice that rung out bell-like despite how she shouted, “Release the thread, begone!” Diran wrapped the thread around his hands and gripped so tightly that his hands became ghastly and pale. He cried out, “Never, I will follow you to paradise!” Thizen was rendered silent for just a moment and he could not tell what torn expression flashed across her face, then she shook herself hard so that her velvet shoe came off.

Diran looked down and the thread was loose in his hands. His eyes shot up one last time to behold the ascending Thizen, who wore an indecipherable grimace, and the golden glow of paradise that silhouetted her. Then he felt the sky rush past him as he fell into the depths of the night.