Fantasy Short Stories

Dark Light

WeeklyStoryContests      ... Theme 10 ... Prompt: Dark Light ... (1000 max.)

In the dead of night, only guided by an eerie orange light that blanketed the Balaur Temple and the entire mountain-side city of Dolj, two frightened priestesses speedily dressed the last shrine zari. Gataia could not climb into her elaborate ceremonial robes on her own and needed assistance with the cumbersome Dragon's Crown as well.

Once the two priestesses, whose hands trembled so violently with fear that they could hardly make haste, managed to push the crown down upon Gataia's head, they swiftly ushered her out from the crumbling temple to certain death. She was about to face the Dragon King - the god of Mount Sabis, which was currently erupting in searing red and orange lava.

Ten other zari had gone before her that night. Each preformed the sacred Harjhita, the Dance of Appeasement, to perfection while large clumps of ash and bright embers rained down on them. And yet, all failed to placate the furious god. He consumed each with scorching flames from his blackened nostrils. The intense fire consumed their robes, their flesh and even their bones. All that remained was sifted ash and the Dragon's Crown; it was immune to dragon's fire.

Through some kind of dangerous sorcery, the Dragon King had been disturbed from his slumber unexpectedly. Awakening a sleeping dragon, without cause, was equal to courting death and destruction. The god of the mountain did not disappoint either.

His fury was instant and lethal. It resulted in a series of earthquakes that nearly destroyed the Balaur Temple and half the city of Dolj. And, as the snake-like copper coloured dragon with shimmering scales burst forth from the mouth of Mount Sabis, the old, dormant volcano erupted right along with his savage temper. The night sky filled with plumes of thick black smoke and streams of glassy yellow and bright orange magma, which lit up the night's sky like fireworks before falling to the earth and consuming everything and everyone in its path. 

Even after the death of ten shrine dancers the mountain was still expelling copious amounts of hot lava. It burned down the mountainside lighting everything in its path on fire and creating the strange orange glow by which Gataia now maneuvered around outside under the suffocating and blinding cover of dense smoke and ash.

However, she was not in the right frame of mind for the Harjhita. It was meant to be accomplished by a serene zari in order to placate the Dragon King. The performance was intended to sooth Balaur's heart and to lull him back to sleep. Only, Gataia was feeling anything but serene.

It wasn't fear that consumed her thoughts and made her limbs quake. Rather, it was righteous indignation. She was furious with the Temple Order, which had denied her the status of a zari for many years and now they wanted to make her one when it suited them. Gataia had been denied because her body was covered in deep violet runes from birth. Those marks had singled her out as a peculiarity and a Nefericit - an Unfortunate - a status given to unlucky or undesirable people.

By the laws of the Temple Order, she could never achieve any status above Nefericit no matter how qualified she was, how pious, or how sincere her heart was. And yet, the Order was all too willing to break its own rules and thrust her out into a field of death when it was convenient for  them.  Even when they understood perfectly well that she, a Nefericit, was most likely going to be consumed by fire from the immortal rampaging god before she'd even started the Harjhita. Such hypocrisy made her blood boil with hatred and disgust for the Order.

Well, Gataia had already decided she wasn't going to go down without a fight - Dragon King be damned. She was no martyr.

She knew something about her runes that no one else was aware of. They were not unlucky at all. In fact, she couldn't help but feel they had been given to her for such a time as this. The moment her feet made contact with the ash-covered sacred ceremonial grounds, the runes on her body glowed a luminous violet. The light from them shone through her white silk robes and lit her up like a candle in the midst of the eerie orange darkness. Her confidence grew. She was not going to die that night.

Gataia, with only her suzu bells to accompany her, began the Harjhita right away. The moment she rang the little tree of bells she held in her right hand, an irate copper dragon swooped down from the ominous cloud of smoke above and let out an deafening roar. Blistering flames and searing embers poured down on her but she did not flinch. Unlike the other zari, Gataia was not consumed by his fire.

Balaur, astonished beyond all comprehension, ceased his rioting and came to stand before the shrine maiden in his human form. It wasn't until he stood within a few feet of her that he saw the dark violet runes that glowed and danced over her soft flesh.

Panic froze his thoughts and arrested all his faculties. Those marks were the signature work of Sulina - his Ex-lover. She was the goddess of fire and precious metals. As such, Sulina was impervious to his fire and her runes made the zari immune too.

Balaur watched in horror as the maiden finished the Harjhita. He felt his world tilt upside-down the instant she rang the suzu bells one last time. In that precise moment, he and the zari were bonded. Half his spiritual energy was bled out of him and deposited into her. The runes glowed a deep dark violet signaling the transfer of authority and power. That dark light crushed his soul. He was now completely under the command of a mortal.

Sulina would pay dearly for this humiliation; he swore it even as he surrendered to his bride.

(999)