Reign of Smoke / حكم الدخان

3

Catara 1820

The smoke pushed and thumped against the wall for thousands and thousands of years. It examined it, probed it, and ran millions of smoky fingers over all of its ridges and crevices, searching for that one tiny weakness it could exploit.

Looking for that one little place it cold push itself through. Wiggle free of its prison and back into the world it so desperately craved. It had dreamt of the big, open blue skies and the deep cool seas and all the people it could lay claim to and corrupt and bend to its will. Making them dance like little puppets on their strings made of wishes. For when you wished, you gave them your soul.

It never grew tired. It was relentless. It clawed at the walls with its talons and ripped at it with its teeth. It turned to fire and tried to burn down the divide, it turned to water and tried to wash it away, it took on the form of a furious wind; a whirlwind that coiled and churned and twisted... but nothing. The magic that the wall had been forged in was far too strong.

But still, it never gave up, because it knew something. A fundamental truth that was as real and true as the glittering stars in the night sky. Everyone, and everything, had a weakness. It was just a matter of time until you found it...

And soon it did.

A tiny wisp of smoke breaks free. And then another one. Another. They blaze into the sky like fiery dragons released from their gilded cages. The race up into the cool night air and explode into a million tiny fragments of light. They float down to the earth once more, relishing the feel of the wind and the sweet kiss of freedom. They gather themselves together again; piecing together light, and fire and smoke and ash and sand.

They are not enough yet, though. They can hear the cries of their brothers and sisters who are still trapped behind the wall. They screech like little lambs to the cruel slaughter. Their shrieks rip through the air like claws through the finest, softest silks.

They know what to do however. They need to gather their strength. They need to feed on souls and lie in wait until they are ready again to rule again.