Chapter 11
eleven
Iwatch as Selene prepares the Shayi Maka for what will happen in just two days after the newest reports confirming what Kya said.
The rumors of a retreat. The lie. Atlas is coming to meet me here, with Thesix in tow.
I hold up my hand, a few snowflakes falling from my palm as I open the ripple between us, making sure he is still alive.
When Selene finishes the training, she comes to stand beside me, her hand on the hilt of her sword.
“I’ve lost myself, Selene,” I admit quietly.
“I created this world to escape the conflicts of Mohasha. To escape Khaysus, and now everything is threatening to fall around me. Khaysus knocking on the door. I can only assume he is not here because of my siblings. Maybe Tiyo … but it’s only a matter of time. ”
“You did nothing wrong, Drāhēn?.” She says. “You didn’t bring this war.”
“But I’ve perpetuated it.” I turn to her. “I’ve led my people – my children – into battle. I’ve watched them die for me. I’ve unleashed tidal waves that have drowned entire battalions.”
Selene puts her hand on my shoulder, “You have done what is necessary, just as we all have.”
“Have I?” I gesture to the soldiers, knowing some of them will not be here at the end of two days.
“Look at what has happened, how many we’ve lost. The northern plains of Midaeliea are nothing but sands and ash now.
Scorched. The central valleys are battlefields strewn with the bodies of those I swore to nurture. ”
“Then end it.” Selene says.
I laugh bitterly. “If I could end it with a thought, don’t you think I would have done so already?”
Her words, however strike something inside of me as I think about the cycle that Ashonera has fallen into, almost the same as Mohasha. The endless struggle between the elements – fire consuming, water quenching, earth containing, wind spreading.
She looks at me, “I think you’re stronger than you think, Drāhēn?. You created this world with the four elements, yes? What could you create – or uncreate – with that same power?”
“Use creation as a weapon?” I consider her words, feeling something shift within me. Not hope, but a possibility. An idea that something could be changed.
The sand beneath my feet shifts and yields as I approach the water’s edge.
I shed my boots, leaving them haphazardly on the shore and wading into the shallows.
The cool embrace of the water welcomes me, recognizing its creator.
My home since the beginning. I continue forward until I’m waist-deep, then close my eyes.
I reach outward with my consciousness, sending wavelets across the surface that extend far into the waves. My call travels through currents and depths, a silent summons that only one creature will understand.
“W?ngesk,” I whisper to the waters. “Old friend, I need you.”
Minutes pass as I stand motionless in the gentle sway of the tide.
Then I feel it–a disturbance deep in the waters.
A massive presence moving with grace toward the shore.
The surface bulges many cubits away, and eight massive tentacles rise from the depths, each one thick as an ancient tree trunk and mottled with the iridescent hues.
The w?ngesk lifts its massive head above the water, intelligent eyes the size of dinner plates fixing on me.
“You came,” I say, moving forward to place my hand against its slick, warm skin.
The w?ngesk lowers a tentacle, gently curling it around my waist. “I created so few of you, knowing how powerful you would be. Too beautiful, too perfect to risk in great numbers and have you hide. I was worried you had forgotten me.”
The creature’s mind brushes against mine, not in words but emotions. Curiosity. Concern. Loyalty.
“So you know of the war then?” My voice breaks, as its tentacle tightens around me in agreement.
“If I should die here, Atlas will march on to Antalis. The canals - they’re the city’s last defense.
If they’re breached, the waters will rise and create a barrier no army can cross.
There is one there, Winlow, who will know how to keep the people safe for months. ”
The w?ngesk’s skin ripples with understanding, its tentacles shifting in the surrounding water.
“I will need you to go to Antalis, old friend.” I continue placing both my hands against its massive head. “Protect the people there. Break the canals when the attack begins. You’ll know if I fall.”
I press my forehead against the creature, as its tentacle tightens briefly around my waist before slowly unwinding. It backs away, its massive body slipping beneath the surface until only its eyes remain.
“Thank you,” I whisper, holding back a tear.
The creature disappears beneath the waves, leaving only expanding ripples as evidence of its presence. I stand in the water, feeling the pull of the tide against my legs, and consider Selene’s words again.
Creation as a weapon. Unmaking what has been made.
I lift my hands, water streaming between my fingers. For the first time since this war began, I feel the full weight of my power–not just as Drāhēn?, Queen of Antalis, but as the Goddess who created this world.
Atlas believes he fights against a queen, a woman. He has forgotten–or perhaps he never truly understood–what I am. I will not fight this war as I have been, I will fight it as the one who holds the power of unmaking in her hands.