" Naar sang to Vitu and the world was born. "

- The Book of Ria

PROLOGUE

A drop of water hit the sleek black floor and rolled away. Above the floor, a great sphere of water was suspended in the air. A warm light shined down onto the water. In the center of the sphere was a pale young girl, naked, and extremely pregnant. She seemed asleep with her eyes closed, rotating ever so slowly.

On a rising balcony that overlooked the ball of water, two Sisters studied the young sleeping girl. One Sister was old, the other young. The old Sister had four parallel scars across her face, long healed and deep.

"It will be soon," the older Sister said.

The young girl twirled and twirled. Then blood bloomed around her. The pregnant girl was now in labor. Other attendants arrived, standing beside the water on the lower floor. The eldest Sister watched and waited.

The pregnant girl gave birth quietly, and the baby seemed asleep as it emerged into the world. The umbilical chord still connected, the baby drifted to the mother's arms and they clung to each other dreaming.

"Let them rest a moment."

All in witness waited. There was no rush. This would happen every seventeen years of their lives. For some it was their fourth or fifth. For the eldest, countless. This dead place was her life now. This ritual was all that mattered.

She nodded. Three Sisters came carrying a long and sharp blade that was attached to a wooden pole, carefully extending it out into the sphere and gently cutting the chord between mother and daughter. Another cloud of dark blood. Neither reacted to the severing.

The mother slowly let go of the baby, drifting downward. Her arms rose up as her body fell. Beneath the large sphere of water, ten Sisters waited with their arms stretched high, catching the mother in a soft cloth and laid her down. Still the mother slept.

The eldest Sister studied the infant from afar. It slept peacefully in the center of the sphere. She went down the stairs to the mother below. The Sisters carried the mother in the cloth and followed as the eldest Sister walked outside through the tall doorway.

They were atop a massive tower, stabbing out of the sick earth, black and thin and tall. Lightning struck down, and for a second illuminated the giant burnt trees, the land blasted and desolate, surrounded by jagged peaks splintering the gray clouds. The rain stung down upon them as they carried the mother to the edge.

"Here is far enough."

The ten Sisters lay down the mother, who was still asleep, and left the balcony. The remaining Sister walked to the mother.

"Mother Miyr. The Daughter Miyr now dreams the dream, and it is time for you to wake up."

The Sister slapped the mother across the face. The mother's eyes fluttered open for a second.

She slapped the mother again. And again.

The mother lunged towards the Sister, hands clawing at the face. The Sister grabbed the mother's thin arms with a great and honorable strength. The mother screamed and her eyes opened.

They do not blink once they are open. The Sister always noticed this.

"Miyr! Look upon the world! You are awake! This is the world! Look!"

After the words were dealt, the Sister threw the mother down and walked away and the doorway closed behind her with a low thud.

The sound of rain.

Miyr looked out.

No sun. Dark clouds and lightning. Smoking dead tree trunks. Beyond the mountains only a cold gray ocean until the horizon. Curling black smoke. No color, no life.

The dream had ended.

Miyr screamed and screamed and ran to the edge of the balcony and leapt, falling with the droplets of rain, screaming all the way down into a mountainous pile of human bones.

Thousands and thousands of remains, all the same size, the same body, dying over and over again, so many times it cannot be counted.

A miserable creature that could have once been a dog or a wolf came limping by, its ribs nearly protruding through its furless skin. It sniffed at the fresh body and lapped at the pool of blood. Half its tongue was black, its one eye red.