Shadow of the Avatar

Chapter 30 -- The Fire Rekindled

Gaea gave us the gift of sight, the ability to partake of Her blood to make ourselves strong. We are the chosen who may hug the stars without being burned. To know Her divinity we must be perfect nothingness and ultimate density...

--Damay Alostar

A cool spray wafted against the back of Wren's neck, carried by a warm breeze laden with the spicy scents of summer. The rhythmic surge and gurgle of the fountain pulsed behind her. The raucous chatter of blue feathers and thistle wings echoed as they dipped and dived across the stone square. In the distance, a smith's hammer rose and fell, and a wagon with badly greased axels groaned down a nearby street-side.

The huge three-tier fountain where Wren sat was the hub from which began nine perfectly straight, cobbled avenues. Elaborately designed stone buildings fronted by statues, topiary, and floral boxes crowded each street. Their brightly painted window sheets and awnings gave everything a glowing too-nice-to-be-true appearance.

She blinked. How did I get here? She glanced around. It looked--she dipped her hand into the cool waters of the fountain--felt--real. She rose, experiencing no pain, nothing other than the normal sensations of her body. The black hauberk of leather that Cassandra gave now clothed her, whole and undamaged. The dark cloak of shadows hung soft and unstained from her shoulders.

This place seemed nothing like anything she would dream. Why here? Though pastoral, the place resembled nothing she'd ever seen or imagined. Didn't she die? Silly question if she could think to ask it.

"Your confusion is understandable," a warm female tenor said behind her.

The voice was so gentle, so soothing, that even though it came without warning and from right by her, Wren wasn't startled. She turned to face a smaller woman dressed in green breeches and a simple brown tunic with a high rolled-over collar. A single line of spidery looking symbols was stitched in yellow from the shoulder to her waist. Her steel-gray hair was tightly coifed around her sun-darkened face. The only thing unusual about the woman were her rings; one on every finger and thumb. Brilliant gold, shiny platinum, emeralds, rubies, topaz, and every kind of precious stone Wren could name lived in a setting on one those ornate circles. Light flashed and winked around her fingers as she put her hand on Wren's shoulder.

Wren felt an indescribable thrill go through her body, as though something previously asleep in her were being brought awake. A warm tingling shot down her arms and legs.

A shock of recognition went through Wren, an instinctual knowledge of this small Lady's identity--Damay. She certainly didn't look like one of the most formidable mortals to walk the inhabited realms.

"Good day," Damay said in that ultimately calm voice. "Sister, I am gladdened you are well." She smiled and Wren saw this tiny woman for the titan she was. Her strength filled the air like a tangible thing, holding Wren in its gentle grip.

It all made Wren's thoughts stumble. "I don't understand. Am I dreaming? How can you be here? How can I be here? For that matter, where is here?"

Damay looked around, completely unconcerned. "Time and space are Hers to command, my Sister. We are Her chosen and death is merely an inconvenience. We go where we are called."

Wren swallowed. "Am I dead then?"

The woman's brow furrowed, the corners of her dark eyes crinkling. "I fear you are too preoccupied with labels. The vastness of the cosmos allows for many shades between life and annihilation. From the first day we are aware, we die a little every day." She smiled again. "You might even say we are born dead. It just takes us eighty summers to stop kicking."