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15: Precious Children (1 of 3)

  15-1

  Precious Children

  


  The hot winds of Vortess danced with Aridus, driving stinging rivulets of sand across vast waves of dunes. The searing heat of Coronus baked the sand into a shimmering, mirrored surface that appeared as distant water to entice the foolish further. There was little life, or anything for that matter, to be found in the dune waves of the Desert Ocean. The only things of avail in the gold vastness were blinding sun, blistering sand, burgeoning madness, and two lone figures on plodding camels.

  Vantaiga sat hunkered down, wrapped in a thin white robe Syffox had brought along, her face buried deeply into the hood. She begrudged the garment but was grateful for the added protection it provided. She had clad herself in the bark of the desert rose to protect herself from the drying air and abrasive sand, but she was still vulnerable.

  The burning heat of the day irritated her lungs, and the wind drove grit through her layers to sting her sore, red eyes. When it hurt to keep her eyes open and her breathing rasped, she knew it was time for them to stop and wait out the worst of the afternoon sun.

  She could tell Syffox was aware of the intense scorn of Coronus as well as her agitation, yet he made no signs of stopping. With the jostling of the camel, she knew he must be getting tired and sore by now. He wouldn’t let her ease the pain of his back anymore once he’d realised she was just taking the pain onto herself.

  Vantaiga struggled to gather her breath before calling out to him, “Is it not time to stop, my love?”

  Syffox turned back to her with a customary, if not strained, smile. “Just this one last ridge, Goddess, and we’ll stop. I want to see what the land beyond is like.”

  Vantaiga cleared some dust from her throat before speaking. “It’s sand… It’s hot… It’s a desert… What do you expect to see?” Each breath of dry air throbbed in her chest.

  Syffox tried to reassure her. “I’m hoping to see an easier way ahead.”

  Vantaiga groaned and slumped her head. She was not reassured. She closed her eyes and tried to let her mind drift away from her aching and thirsting body. She wanted to rest more than anything but didn’t want Syffox to realise how hard the journey was becoming for her.

  She may have gained immense power as a Goddess, but what she didn’t tell Syffox was that as the spirit of the forest, she had also gained a weakness to thirst and dehydration. As they climbed the ridge, she hoped to see some relief from the desert, anything other than the hot waves of sand they currently travelled.

  With each plod up the dune, the sky broadened with more of the same flawless topaz blue they had become so used to. They bolstered their hopes for a better landscape as they mounted the rise. Once over the top, Aridus opened up his realm before them to lay bare a cruel joke. Their hearts sank as they looked out over the new terrain that spanned the horizon. The dunes faded down to a dried-out lakebed that stretched as far as their eyes could see.

  Vantaiga groaned and commanded her camel to let her down. Syffox bit back his disappointment of the vista but when he saw her dismount he gave her a startled, questioning look. “What are you doing? We can’t stop here.”

  Vantaiga dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “It’s high noon. I’m baking. We’re taking a break.”

  Syffox looked to Coronus’s burning stare, back to Vantaiga, and then to the distant lakebed. He took a moment to choose his words. “Can we at least make it to the next trough so we’re not windswept?”

  Vantaiga fixed him with a steely stare. Without a word, she reached out and grabbed his leg. The air about the small procession swirled inwards with a dull thump. With a rush of wind, the four of them reappeared at the foot of the next dune. The camels stamped and grunted their displeasure at their sudden displacement.

  Syffox clucked his tongue for his camel to lower him. “Don’t waste magic like that. Your power is in limited supply out here!”

  “My patience is in limited supply out here. I’m hot, I’m tired, I’m thirsty and my skin is drying off in sheets.” She thrust her hand to the distant dry lake beyond. “And we have a thousand miles still to go!”

  Syffox began pulling out poles for their small tent. “You shouldn’t waste magic. We don’t know how long this will take.” He passed by her with a cross look. “But you could have at least folded us out into the lake and saved us a day.”

  Vantaiga’s jaw fell open as she glared at him, her hand still outstretched. She clenched her teeth with a grim scowl and reached out to grab him.

  Syffox darted from her. “No, you don’t!”

  She lunged at him again, but he evaded her. Too hot and tired to pursue him further, she sat next to her camel with a huff while waiting for him to finish their small shelter.

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  Syffox buried the stakes into the sand and strung a heavy, dark wool and hide canvas over them. It was a modest and simple structure for a deity and her greatest minister. But without followers around to impress, the couple preferred its functional convenience over any grandiose design.

  Once finished, Vantaiga settled the camels next to the tent and crawled inside. She took a deep gulp of water from a flask and gasped as it washed down her throat. It was warm, but she didn’t care. It was the best drink she’d ever had. After taking some time to appreciate the shade of the shelter, she used her magic to push away the hot surface sand to find a cool layer underneath.

  Syffox rolled his eyes. “You’re still wasting magic. And you’ll never get accustomed to the heat doing that.”

  She stopped and looked blankly at him before pushing a mound of sand on him. “I will never get used to this heat. And if I’m going to be out in this forsaken waste, I’m at least going to have a comfortable nap.”

  Vantaiga continued to clear away the sand until she found a cool patch to her pleasing. She stripped off her robe and spread out naked in her depression with a sigh of relief. Syffox pulled himself out of the sand and laid out a carpet for himself.

  He traced a finger over the rough rose-tree skin of her arm with a hopeful look. “Do you think you can retract the bark skin for your nap? It’s not very comfortable sleeping with a tree, you know.”

  She looked at him sideways. “That would waste my magic.”

  Syffox’s face dropped to a guilty expression.

  Vantaiga laughed and grabbed his arm, pulling him on top of her. “After our nap. This desert is… difficult on me. I need to rest first.”

  Syffox kissed her on her rough lips. “All right then, Goddess. Rest first.”

  ***

  It was several days of travel after the dunes for the couple to cross the dead lake and finally approach its ancient shoreline. Vantaiga passed her time in the monotonous expanse scanning for the occasional brittle shrub or scraggly patch of grass. They were rare survivors of the cracked and stony land that continued to fight against the merciless God of the Desert. To Vantaiga, they were also signs of hope that she could survive out here as well. To Syffox, they were signs that water was still close enough to the surface to be able to draw it up.

  As they reached the top of the low slope of the bleak far shoreline, Vantaiga once again gained hope to see a more hospitable view beyond. However, just as with the ending of the dune sea, the ending of the dry lake only brought another harsh reality. Low hills of barren, flat rock spilled out before them, devoid of any life.

  Her meagre hope crumbled away to a simmering panic. The water would be deeper to summon, and her magic was fading. She wanted to speak but had to build moisture in her mouth before her cracking voice could leave her parched throat. “My love, how much further do we have to go through this?”

  “I believe we still have a ways to go, my beautiful Goddess. But we are making good distance.”

  Vantaiga dismissed his pleasantries. She knew the journey was wearing away on him as well. The way he took longer to stretch out the stiffness from Festor’s wound, the longer it was taking him to get up in the morning, the slower he ate his dried bread and water rations—it all told her he was not faring nearly as well as he made on. Vantaiga retorted back, “There is no beauty out here.”

  She certainly was not feeling beautiful. Her bark skin was fraying, her eyes constantly burned, and her lips were splitting. It annoyed her even more that he would attempt to reassure her so vacantly. “Are you sure we are going the right way? We have been out here for weeks, and the desert is only getting worse.”

  “Head for the tear of Coronus at sunset on the Winter Solstice until you reach the River of Skulls. It’s the only way since time immortal.”

  Vantaiga growled. “Well, apparently that turns out not to be true. Besides, Coronus’s tear moves with the seasons. Are you sure you’re still on the same track as the Winter Solstice?”

  “Yes. I’m on the same track. Unless someone changed the stars, we’re heading the right way.”

  “What if we’re supposed to change the course with movement of the sunset?”

  “Then they would say ‘follow’ the tear and not ‘head to it.’” Syffox tried to keep the scolding out of his voice. He was too hot, sore, and tired to deal with questions.

  “It shouldn’t take this long. I’m running out of power to draw up water.”

  “Well, if you hadn’t wasted your magic digging out sandcastles, we could find more water, now couldn’t we? Nobody knows how long this will take. Nobody has come this far. Nobody ever comes this far! The only thing to find out here is Festor’s paradise. And only the truly crazed would want to go there.”

  “He didn’t give us much choice, did he? The only way to get rid of that curse of yours is to find him and have him remove it. Who knows? Maybe he is shifting the stars to get us lost.”

  Syffox cast his head to the sky with a groan. “Then we’re dead, aren’t we?” He let out a smouldering breath. “Or I should say, I’m dead. After all, I’m the mortal.”

  Vantaiga felt a bitter sting from the unspoken accusation. “This is supposed to be for removing your curse. What am I getting out of this? Yet another revolting jackass to leave me alone?” She twisted her face to a grim smile. “Trust me, there’s a long line of those waiting to stab you in the back that I fend off every day. This is my ordeal to face. I can do this on my own. You can fold back home whenever you want.”

  Syffox looked at her blankly. “How else would you get out here? Walk? Lead a caravan of worshippers to their doom? You have no dominion here, Goddess. You are virtually powerless as we speak. Your only way across this desert is through me, and my only way home is to cross this desert! Do you have any idea how far out we are? There is no folding from here. Ever since we left the dunes, it’s been a one-way trip for me. It’s you who can ascend and go home at any time.”

  Vantaiga attempted to strike back, but a welling of emotion choked her words before they formed in her head. Her anger was crushed under a surge of fear and sadness that she didn’t have the strength to suppress. She broke into tears. “If I leave, I’ll never be able to return! I’ll lose you forever. I’m only here to be with you.” She wiped her face. “I only want to be with you. I don’t want this.”

  Syffox’s shoulders slumped at the sight of her tears. His face crumbled, and he struggled to respond. “I’m sorry, Goddess. I love you. I only wanted you to be happy and at peace.”

  Through sniffles, Vantaiga regained her composure. “I know. I love you too.” She knew this trip was hard on him. She knew her being a Goddess was hard on him. She didn’t want to make things worse than they already were, especially between them. She looked at her hands and the streaks of dirt made by her tears. She could only imagine what her face must look like; some Goddess she was. She broke into a sobbing laugh. “I’m a mess. Let’s just get through this desert.”

  Syffox couldn’t help but smile as she laughed. “Yes my Goddess, I’ll get you across this desert.”

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