《The Saga of Armageddon: The Call of Crows》Chapter 11: Landfall
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Najeem never thought one man could be weighed down by so much water while on land. Every time he wrung his turban out, it seemed as though the water content was increasing.
The five of them had sailed straight through the monsoon, only living thanks to Vai. They’d managed to make it onto a Jambudvipi beach.
Wait. It was raining. A lot. That’s why his clothes were still wet. He had been so soaked he didn’t even notice it. The numbness of his skin to the sensation of tempest rains battering down on him didn’t help either.
Vai pushed his boat into the cave the women had taken shelter in. Najeem followed him inside and helped push. Lokapele had created a heat source with several glowing rocks on the cusp of melting while Shakti and Shahla wrung out their clothes and dried them over a fire.
Najeem and Vai shoved the boat into the back corner of the cave.
“Now anyone who might be following us won’t know where we landed.” Vai sighed, “And hopefully no one finds her before I can get her back.”
Najeem started wringing out his clothes inside rather than outside and let them dry near the heat, keeping only a thin white shirt and his undergarments on. The others, including the women, followed suit. But he couldn’t be bothered to give a damn about modesty at this point.
“Ugh. I miss the desert. I didn’t know someone could even get this wet,” Najeem shook his head and sighed, “What’s our plan from here?”
“We’re rather close to Serrak, actually. It was my hometown.” Shakti said.
“Wouldn’t people recognize you?” Najeem asked.
“I’m not the one who needs to be in hiding. That’s you and the princess,” she said, “We can stock up on supplies and get some valuable information. The Nikan border isn’t far, so we’ll pretty much be running off of the information we get there in terms of what places to avoid.”
“We don’t have money to buy anything.” Vai pointed out, “How are we going to get supplies?”
“I could steal some supplies.” Najeem said.
“Najeem, those people have to make a living.” Shahla said.
“And we have to save Qahtan.” the Asasiyun pointed out.
“I won’t condone stealing from those people.” the princess asserted.
“Alright, who would you have me steal from?” Najeem asked.
Shahla took a moment before shrugging. “No one whose livelihoods would be ruined by it?”
Najeem sighed, “Fine.”
“Thank you.” the princess smiled pleasantly.
“Whatever.” Najeem rolled his eyes. He noticed his behavior was far more casual around his liege now. But he didn’t care. He liked being able to speak his mind.
“You and I are gonna figure out how all this moon stuff works with you.” Lokapele said.
“...And me?” Vai asked, “What am I gonna do?”
Najeem looked at the others. No one had an answer.
“Oh, wow. Thanks.” Vai muttered bitterly.
“We need food for tomorrow.” Najeem said, “You could go fishing.”
“If there’s anything we need help with, we’ll come to you straight away.” Shahla promised.
“Sure.” the navigator huffed.
“Everyone get some sleep tonight.” Lokapele said, “We’ll need strength for the journey ahead.”
Najeem was the first to take her up on that. The moment his head was cradled in his arms, he fell into the deepest sleep he’d ever had.
_____________________________________________________________________
Najeem walked into Serrak alongside Shakti the next day. He had converted his black turban into a hood that obscured his face.
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After the night’s rain, nearly the entire ground was flooded, which was likely why all the houses and buildings were constructed on stilts and connected via wooden bridges. Each building had a wide, sweeping roof that protected even the balconies and pathways around it from rain.
Hell, most of the platforms didn’t even have buildings on them, just pavilions.
“The richest sector of town is up on those cliffs.” Shakti whispered, pointing upwards to the right, “Any building made of stone is worth robbing.”
The higher ground was far away enough from the flooded lowlands to have stone foundations and decently sized homes or estates that would collapse on stilts.
Najeem turned and started up some wooden stairs. Three or so of these staircases led him to a far more impressive part of town. Actual stone brick roads had been laid through the claustrophobic labyrinth of structures. No thought had been put into how these buildings were placed. Nevertheless, it added to the sort of chaotic jungle charm he felt throughout the town.
The trees that encroached on the town’s territory seemed to be woven from many smaller trees and vines into a rope-like structure for their trunks.
The walls of every stone building were painstakingly carved with detailed art pieces and decorum. Each building was actually a wall to a courtyard that preceded the actual buildings themselves, upon closer inspection.
Though, there was one building with very distinct symbology. The construction of it was unlike the other houses. It was far wider and had cultivated gardens beyond. It was likely a temple of some kind.
Najeem stepped into the courtyard on a stone pathway, admiring the architecture.
Someone spoke in Jambudvipi.
Najeem glanced to the left and found a young woman with almost golden-brown skin and narrow eyes glaring at him. She was wrapped in bright orange robes, including a headscarf like the women of Qahtan often wore.
She spoke to him again, but he couldn’t understand.
“I’m sorry, but do you speak Qahtanad?” Najeem asked.
She nodded, “The temple is not open to visitors.”
“Oh? I apologize.”
“Who are you?” the woman asked, “I’ve never seen you before.”
“I’m just a traveling merchant from the West, ma’am.” Najeem said, “Thought I’d see the sights available to me.”
She narrowed her eyes, “Then wear your turban properly. You’re giving off a bad impression of your people. And this sight is not available to you. Do not come back to this temple. It’s been closed for many years.”
Najeem got an intense urge to argue with her. About what, he didn’t know. But he didn’t want to take any unnecessary risks so he forced the impulse down.
“Again, I apologize.” Najeem bowed.
“Don’t apologize. Just leave.”
Najeem took a deep breath and did as he was asked.
This was the one. Monks didn’t need much in the way of material possessions anyway.
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Shahla watched as Lokapele’s Shedim appeared from out of the Aotearoan’s back. She almost thought she could feel the heat from its magma skin.
The thin layer of rainwater that flooded this part of the beach steamed around Lokapele’s feet.
“I wanna get a look at your Shedim. Go ahead and manifest it.” Lokapele said.
“...Manifest?” Shahla asked, “I don’t know how to do that.”
“Oh. It’s kind of hard to explain what to do. You just sort of...do it.” Lokapele thought for a moment, “Alright. You know that chill that runs through you whenever you use your powers?”
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Shahla nodded.
“Use your powers and when you feel that, try to force it out of your skin.”
Shahla took a deep breath and tried to will her powers to activate. Her Scars glowed weakly in the sun, but they were active. She nearly jerked her entire body trying to force the chill out.
Shahla turned to face her Shedim.
“She looks...remarkably like me.” Shahla muttered.
“It.” Lokapele said, “And yes, a shedim adapts to its master’s likeness.”
The facial structure was an exact copy of hers. Though, its skin was completely white, appropriately like the surface of the moon. Its pale hair was far longer than Shahla’s and flowed in the air as though it were submerged in water. It wore a headdress reminiscent of the ancient cultures of the Al-Kubra desert, with six horns wrapping around the sides of a tall crown.
The Shedim’s body was bare, but only resembled the shape of a woman, lacking genitals, nipples or even a belly button. Its arms were adorned in silver bracers and arm rings that connected to a dark, long, flowing cape. Upon staring into it, Shahla could swear she saw stars within its folds.
“The Shedim’s title must be spoken in order for you to gain any amount of real control over your abilities,” Lokapele explained, “They carry the names of gods. I know Qahtanads believe in only one, but you thought there were many before that, yes?”
“Yes. My pagan tribe considered our true God a moon deity.” Shahla muttered, “But…”
“No goddesses?” Lokapele asked.
Shahla cupped her chin, “There...there might be something. Though, it would be odd. The pagans believed God had three consorts. Three sisters. A warrior, a temptress and a weaver. The Weaver was believed to be a goddess of time and change. She was represented by the waning moon.”
“What was the Weaver’s name?”
“The Inevitable Wake of the Waning Moon.” Upon speaking the name, Shahla’s Scars surged with light as the Shedim was sucked back into her body. The glowing subsided, but there was still a warm sensation in her chest.
“With the speaking of its name, the Shedim gains the capacity to grow. So you won’t be using your powers by accident anymore.” Lokapele said.
Shahla sighed, “That’s better than before, I suppose.”
“Each Shedim has a limitation to its power but you’ll only discover them with trial and error. I suggest you find out what that is and its parameters as soon as possible.”
“What kind of limitations?” Shahla asked.
“For example, I can’t melt any amount of rock heavier than my own body weight into magma. In order to use already present, larger pieces of magma, I have to bond with a volcano at a point where I’m less than a hundred yards from molten rock inside of it.” Lokapele said, “I can also only control magma with my limbs. If my arms were cut off, I would have to kick it at people.”
“That’s very specific.” Shahla muttered.
“That’s kind of the point.” Lokapele said, “You should also be careful about overusing those powers. While they offer incredible abilities, taking in too much power could meet you with the fate of a plague victim.”
“You mean I’ll die?” Shahla asked.
Lokapele shrugged, “It’s a possibility. Just don’t go overboard and you’ll be fine. You’ll know if you’re getting into dangerous territory when you start having trouble staying awake while using your powers, or if your body is cold even when you’re not using your powers.”
Shahla nodded, “This is all great, but I barely have any idea what I’m capable of.”
“Well, it’s pretty much up to you to figure it out.” Lokapele said.
“Really?”
“You have control over the chillness. Try dragging it around or forcing it out in different ways. But that’s more or less all I can tell you.” Lokapele said.
“Well that’s rather vague.” Shahla muttered.
“So are these powers, unfortunately. I think that’s enough for today.” Lokapele said, “The others are back.”
Shahla glanced up as Najeem and Shakti made their way down to the flooded ground outside their cave.
“We have information.” Najeem announced.
“Where’s Vai?” Shakti asked them.
“He went fishing.” Lokapele pointed to the little speck of brown out on the ocean. Vai had detached one of the canoe hulls of the Hokule’a and had taken it out to sea.
“We can smoke whatever he catches, then. That’ll be good food for a few meals.” Najeem said.
“He’ll probably be back in a few minutes. Let’s wait for him in the cave.” Lokapele said, “My feet are pruning.”
The four of them headed into the cave’s mouth. Lokapele started a fire to help dry themselves off. Everyone and everything seemed wet all the time to Shahla. Vai came back with a wooden bucket full of fish.
“I have meat!” Vai grinned, setting his bucket down.
“And we have intelligence.” Shakti said, “Sit. We’ll plan our next step.”
Vai took a seat next to Shahla.
“First thing, I found a place to rob.” Najeem said, “It’s in the richest sector of town and the person who lives there was extremely rude to me. So I think they’ll recoup their losses.”
Shahla smiled, “That’s good, Najeem. But don’t get too used to stealing.”
“If I can kill in the name of God, I can steal in the name of God.” Najeem muttered.
“I...suppose that’s fair enough.” Shahla shrugged. She would mention her thoughts, but she didn’t want to get Najeem started in a debate.
“I talked with some of the townsfolk.” Shakti said, “Once we get through the Nikan border, we’ll have two mountain ranges to pass before we enter what’s left of Khongira. The Tan An Mountains, the first range, isn’t too heavily guarded. It’s mostly the main passes we have to worry about. Smugglers have taken plenty of people across the border since the war started, so we should be able to find one.”
“And the second range?” Vai asked.
“The Chungsu Mountains mark the border between Khongira and Nikan. Outposts there are always vigilant for raiders, so it’s possible there are no passes we can take.” Shakti explained.
“Meaning we might have to climb our way over, right?” Shahla asked with dread.
Shakti nodded.
“Let’s take this one step at a time, alright?” Lokapele said, “Najeem gets us the funds we need, then we just focus on making it into Nikan.”
The others nodded in agreement.
“I’ll go tonight.” Najeem said, “We buy everything we’ll need in the morning and be out of here before noon.”
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Adagio of the Enlightened
The Elders will tell you the stories and lore. Of our ancestors, their deeds, and of the foes of yore. They will praise to you the chariot, and how it flew to the stars. How it stole the sun's light and slew the night’s roar.The Shamans will tell you the tales of their wisdom. Their wars on schism, and the unlettered world of ours before. Perhaps they will sing you the songs of what our clans' ancient customs tore. Poems of how our ancestors took what the discs had offered them, the manna and the mundane, and made it more.The kings will tell you of the follies, the sins, and the anecdotes of all our ancestors' wrongs. They will curse to you their names, the Ender of Fate and the Ruined Song. How they had dug up the hearts of the discs, euchred its relics, and blasphemed its prophecies, with oracles withdrawn.But they will only tell you the legends, recount the myths, and sing the allegories washed ashore.The Elders, the Shamans, and the kings can only retell what the storytellers of their own time had voiced. What they have read in books or heard in the minstrels' songs they adore.They don't know what really happened. They were never there.They can't tell you how our ancestors slew the angels from the sky, and sent them back to where they belonged. How they poisoned our minds, and made our people slothful and feeble, with the reforms they had undergone.But I can.I can tell you how the Ender of Fate severed destiny's strings, weakened them, and weaved them to our feeble flesh and souls.I can tell you how the Ruined song razed the heavens with her blood-stained melody, and reshaped our hell into utopia, with the deaths she deplored.Because I was there. I can tell you the truth, with my virtue strong. ----> Disclaimer: This will be a slow-burn, character-driven, non-harem, slice-of-life web novel with cultivation and kingdom-building elements. Also known as "The Hidden Sage and the Star Chariot" on "Reddit HFY". Schedule: First 7 days, 3 chapters daily. Then 1 daily chapter until November. Patreon - (Unlock up to chapter 67) [participant in the Royal Road Writathon challenge]
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channeled energyA short poetry series for surreal days
8 208Low Tide \ JJ Maybank
She was the first person he trusted with his secret. His safe place.He was the first guy she let all the way in. He could ground her when nobody else could.-"𝐓𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧."-"𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕀 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦, 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕞𝕪 𝕨𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕖 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕. 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕚𝕞𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕀 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖."-JJxOCAn Netflix Original: Outer Banks FanficHighest Rankings:#1 in johnbookerrougtledge#1 in kiaracarerra#2 in obx #3 in surfing #2 in boats#2 in netflixoriginal#1 in pogue
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