Zephyrs by Alexis Donkin
wind shifted and the chime grew louder. Its tones turned angry, harsh, and clanging. Zephysus put his hands to his ears.
“What is that?!” he cried. Ammon turned to the window.
“The time is nigh.”
“Time?!” shouted the thin poet. Ammon turned back to Zephysus who was now crouching in his chair in pain from the sound. Ammon, however, was completely unaffected.
“To wake up.”
“What?!” shouted Zephysus as the chimes grew louder.
“Zephysus!”
“Zephysus!!”
“AAHH!” Zephysus jumped up in his bed and nearly rammed his head into Aries.' The strapping lord jumped back just in time to avoid a collision. Absently, Zephysus admired his ability to anticipate people, but then again, he wasn't called the 'Lord of War' for nothing. Aries' agility was legend.
“Zephysus!” said Aries through a nervous chuckle.
“Sorry!” gasped the poet as he rubbed his head. His clammy fingers ran across the bed covers as though looking for something – some remnant of the events from the previous evening.
“Are you alright?” asked Aries with concern. The lord's hard black eyes had taken on a tinge of unease as they followed Zephysus' frantic searching.
“I'm fine. I'm fine!” mumbled Zephysus as he started looking about the room. Suddenly he jumped out of bed and ran around the room in his pajamas. Frowning, Aries followed his progression until the poet ran out the door, down the hall to the tower. Slowly Aries joined the poet in his study. When he did, Zephysus was more than just a little distracted. He was moving from one place to another, from the desk, to the chair, to the shelves, to the cabinet and so on. He seemed to be checking everything, not only visually but tactilely as well.
“There must be something! Something!” he kept muttering to himself, his eyes wild. Now Aries' frown deepened.
“Just what are you looking for?”
“Something – something – I -” Zephysus turned and saw Aries watching him with concern. He blinked. “Oh. Oh!”
“Something?” repeated Aries.
“Yes, I – well,” Zephysus sat down heavily on the nearest chair and smiled. Then his smile turned into a laugh, until his laughter became hysterics. Now his master was even more disturbed. Aries knelt down before him, placing a hand on the poet's knee.
“Zephysus, do you need to see someone from the nemeton?” he asked gently. The question jolted the thin man to his senses and he focused on his master's face.
“No. No, of course not! I'm fine.” Zephysus saw the doubt on Aries' face and gripped the man's shoulders. “Really, I'm fine.”
“What is all this about?”
“I had a dream last night – maybe a vision,” Zephysus drew close to the lord and whispered, “I saw Ammon.” Aries' brows rose.
“Did you talk about anything?”
“Yes – he,” Zephysus chuckled and shook his head, “he asked me to write a letter.” Aries let a single brow quirk.
“A letter?”
“Well, not really a letter. More of a message – something to be handed down.” His master's lips closed tightly and something flashed across his eyes.
“A message?”
“Yes.”
“To whom?”
“Everyone.”
“Everyone?”
“That's what he said. Everyone.” Aries went quiet. He studied his favorite artist's face carefully, taking in all the wildness and wonder hidden there.
“You realize you sound utterly mad.”
“Well, I – yes. I suppose I do.” Zephysus frowned for a second, but his expression quickly changed to one of wonder. “Couldn't it be a prophetic dream? There are some of us who can see the future!” Aries leaned back and sighed. Slowly he stood.
“I suppose.”
“Maybe he did really visit me in the night. He said some very strange things -” began Zephysus.
“I think you had better tell us all about it,” came a strong voice from the stairwell.
“Us?” asked the poet, startled out of his reverie.
“I think quite a few would be rather interested in what you have to say,” came the voice again, this time more softly. Alarmed, Zephysus froze in his chair.
The man strolled in as though he owned the place, and he might have, if he wanted to. His hair was just as copper as his sire's. His eyes just as deep and rich a brown. It was hard to see any ounce of Lilith there at all.
“Atum,” murmured the poet.
“What were you saying?” asked the man with velvet softness. Zephysus felt his blood drain. There was something hidden, insidious behind Atum's expression, within his eyes. Something deep inside of Zephysus dearly wanted to avoid telling the man anything.
Lie. Ammon's voice nearly made Zephysus jump.
“I was talking about a crazy dream I had. It didn't make any sense. I mean,” Zephysus laughed, “I woke up and thought it was real!” Aries laughed along with him, showing genuine relief. Zephysus couldn't have lied if he wanted to. It wasn't possible for Otherworlders, but he could reframe the truth into a very different picture.
“I see,” said Atum softly. His eyes narrowed as he studied the poet. For a moment the room was silent. Satisfied that Zephysus passed whatever test it was Atum had set, the man turned to Aries. “Daeva said I might find you here.”
“Yes, well I do come here often,” shrugged Aries.
“I need to discuss battle strategies with you.” Aries' brow quirked.
“I thought you always made your own plans.”
“Yes well, seeing as things have ramped up recently I thought it would work better to consolidate our efforts. We don't want to – get in each other's way.” Atum glanced at Zephysus and then turned back to the doorway. “I'll be waiting in the war room.” In one step Atum disappeared, having jumped through space and time, leaving only a cold wind in his wake.
“I should go meet with Atum.”
“Yes,” breathed Zephysus as he sagged in relief.
“I'm glad you came to your senses,” Aries said with a smile. Zephysus glanced at him.
“I don't doubt it.”
“I'll come back later to see how your newest work is going.”
“My newest work?” Zephysus tensed. Aries stared at him.
“Yes, your collection inspired by Daeva. You know I want you to recite it for the solstice celebration. You don't have too much time.”
“Yes, right. Of course!” Zephysus stood and forced a smile. Aries stared at him but then turned away, ignoring whatever tension he saw in the poet's face.
“I'll see you later.”
“Yes,” Zephysus said quickly. As Aries walked away he added, “Have a good meeting.”
“Thanks,” said Aries before disappearing on the spot.
For a second Zephysus held his breath, waiting for someone to suddenly appear or for something worse. Slowly, tentatively, he sat at his desk. Carefully he pulled out several pieces of parchment, a pot of ink, and a pen. Taking a deep breath, he began scratching his recollection of Ammon's request. It was long – longer than he expected. He'd used a bit of poetic license, but thought overall the piece communicated what Ammon requested.
Having completed the first copy, he sat back and reread the thing with a sigh.
Lilith, light of all light,
Shining once more,
Balanced by fire in the dark,
Ammon-Ra, bright lord.
Bound to one eternally bound,
Beloved of all loves,
The Moon brought up,
And the Sun down.
The child of two worlds,
become one in this union.
Held in their hands
Salvation and destruction.
Within one - dark and light,
Element and force,
The other weighted, torn and distorted
By blood, greed, and earth.
A knife cleaved the world in two,
Bent to needle, thread to sew.<
br />
Fingers close around them both,
Heals all veils, planes, and worlds.
Zephysus bit his lip and ran his fingers across the elegant script.
“Is it right?” he said aloud, though the room was empty. As soon as his words were out, a soft sigh seemed to coat the room in warmth, soothing him to his very bones.
Well done, Poet. Well done.
Zephysus smiled to himself. Then he made several copies. With the task completed he spread the copies across his desk and stared at them once more.
“Now what do I do?” he asked as he inspected the parchment, satisfied there were no errors.
Send them.
“Send them?!” Zephysus blurted. He looked around the room in consternation. “TO WHOM?! Forces! I'm talking to myself!”
Hardly. In an instant the air swirled about, scattering things this way and that. Dust and light sucked into the far end of the room and a figure, made of what must have been the purest combination of elements and natural forces stood, glowing softly.
“Ammon?” whispered Zephysus in awe. He rubbed his eyes frantically. “But I'm awake! I am awake, am I not?” Zephysus looked down at his arm and pinched himself hard. “Ow!” He cringed and rubbed his red skin. The apparition chuckled.
“Zephysus, send these words to the nemetons. First send one to Uruk. Send one to the isles in the north, to the forest nemeton there. Send one to the hidden nemeton of the far east, and the last belongs to the mountaintop nemeton of the southwest.” Zephysus blinked at the apparition which continued to swirl, bits of it fading in and out, turning in on itself only to be reborn as he watched. Fractals...he thought.
“Will they be safe?” he asked soberly.
“Most will be destroyed. Words will be lost. Interpretations will be wrong. Copies will be inaccurate, as is the way of these things.” Ammon frowned. “Still, enough will last to the time it is needed.” Uncomfortable with
“What is that?!” he cried. Ammon turned to the window.
“The time is nigh.”
“Time?!” shouted the thin poet. Ammon turned back to Zephysus who was now crouching in his chair in pain from the sound. Ammon, however, was completely unaffected.
“To wake up.”
“What?!” shouted Zephysus as the chimes grew louder.
“Zephysus!”
“Zephysus!!”
“AAHH!” Zephysus jumped up in his bed and nearly rammed his head into Aries.' The strapping lord jumped back just in time to avoid a collision. Absently, Zephysus admired his ability to anticipate people, but then again, he wasn't called the 'Lord of War' for nothing. Aries' agility was legend.
“Zephysus!” said Aries through a nervous chuckle.
“Sorry!” gasped the poet as he rubbed his head. His clammy fingers ran across the bed covers as though looking for something – some remnant of the events from the previous evening.
“Are you alright?” asked Aries with concern. The lord's hard black eyes had taken on a tinge of unease as they followed Zephysus' frantic searching.
“I'm fine. I'm fine!” mumbled Zephysus as he started looking about the room. Suddenly he jumped out of bed and ran around the room in his pajamas. Frowning, Aries followed his progression until the poet ran out the door, down the hall to the tower. Slowly Aries joined the poet in his study. When he did, Zephysus was more than just a little distracted. He was moving from one place to another, from the desk, to the chair, to the shelves, to the cabinet and so on. He seemed to be checking everything, not only visually but tactilely as well.
“There must be something! Something!” he kept muttering to himself, his eyes wild. Now Aries' frown deepened.
“Just what are you looking for?”
“Something – something – I -” Zephysus turned and saw Aries watching him with concern. He blinked. “Oh. Oh!”
“Something?” repeated Aries.
“Yes, I – well,” Zephysus sat down heavily on the nearest chair and smiled. Then his smile turned into a laugh, until his laughter became hysterics. Now his master was even more disturbed. Aries knelt down before him, placing a hand on the poet's knee.
“Zephysus, do you need to see someone from the nemeton?” he asked gently. The question jolted the thin man to his senses and he focused on his master's face.
“No. No, of course not! I'm fine.” Zephysus saw the doubt on Aries' face and gripped the man's shoulders. “Really, I'm fine.”
“What is all this about?”
“I had a dream last night – maybe a vision,” Zephysus drew close to the lord and whispered, “I saw Ammon.” Aries' brows rose.
“Did you talk about anything?”
“Yes – he,” Zephysus chuckled and shook his head, “he asked me to write a letter.” Aries let a single brow quirk.
“A letter?”
“Well, not really a letter. More of a message – something to be handed down.” His master's lips closed tightly and something flashed across his eyes.
“A message?”
“Yes.”
“To whom?”
“Everyone.”
“Everyone?”
“That's what he said. Everyone.” Aries went quiet. He studied his favorite artist's face carefully, taking in all the wildness and wonder hidden there.
“You realize you sound utterly mad.”
“Well, I – yes. I suppose I do.” Zephysus frowned for a second, but his expression quickly changed to one of wonder. “Couldn't it be a prophetic dream? There are some of us who can see the future!” Aries leaned back and sighed. Slowly he stood.
“I suppose.”
“Maybe he did really visit me in the night. He said some very strange things -” began Zephysus.
“I think you had better tell us all about it,” came a strong voice from the stairwell.
“Us?” asked the poet, startled out of his reverie.
“I think quite a few would be rather interested in what you have to say,” came the voice again, this time more softly. Alarmed, Zephysus froze in his chair.
The man strolled in as though he owned the place, and he might have, if he wanted to. His hair was just as copper as his sire's. His eyes just as deep and rich a brown. It was hard to see any ounce of Lilith there at all.
“Atum,” murmured the poet.
“What were you saying?” asked the man with velvet softness. Zephysus felt his blood drain. There was something hidden, insidious behind Atum's expression, within his eyes. Something deep inside of Zephysus dearly wanted to avoid telling the man anything.
Lie. Ammon's voice nearly made Zephysus jump.
“I was talking about a crazy dream I had. It didn't make any sense. I mean,” Zephysus laughed, “I woke up and thought it was real!” Aries laughed along with him, showing genuine relief. Zephysus couldn't have lied if he wanted to. It wasn't possible for Otherworlders, but he could reframe the truth into a very different picture.
“I see,” said Atum softly. His eyes narrowed as he studied the poet. For a moment the room was silent. Satisfied that Zephysus passed whatever test it was Atum had set, the man turned to Aries. “Daeva said I might find you here.”
“Yes, well I do come here often,” shrugged Aries.
“I need to discuss battle strategies with you.” Aries' brow quirked.
“I thought you always made your own plans.”
“Yes well, seeing as things have ramped up recently I thought it would work better to consolidate our efforts. We don't want to – get in each other's way.” Atum glanced at Zephysus and then turned back to the doorway. “I'll be waiting in the war room.” In one step Atum disappeared, having jumped through space and time, leaving only a cold wind in his wake.
“I should go meet with Atum.”
“Yes,” breathed Zephysus as he sagged in relief.
“I'm glad you came to your senses,” Aries said with a smile. Zephysus glanced at him.
“I don't doubt it.”
“I'll come back later to see how your newest work is going.”
“My newest work?” Zephysus tensed. Aries stared at him.
“Yes, your collection inspired by Daeva. You know I want you to recite it for the solstice celebration. You don't have too much time.”
“Yes, right. Of course!” Zephysus stood and forced a smile. Aries stared at him but then turned away, ignoring whatever tension he saw in the poet's face.
“I'll see you later.”
“Yes,” Zephysus said quickly. As Aries walked away he added, “Have a good meeting.”
“Thanks,” said Aries before disappearing on the spot.
For a second Zephysus held his breath, waiting for someone to suddenly appear or for something worse. Slowly, tentatively, he sat at his desk. Carefully he pulled out several pieces of parchment, a pot of ink, and a pen. Taking a deep breath, he began scratching his recollection of Ammon's request. It was long – longer than he expected. He'd used a bit of poetic license, but thought overall the piece communicated what Ammon requested.
Having completed the first copy, he sat back and reread the thing with a sigh.
Lilith, light of all light,
Shining once more,
Balanced by fire in the dark,
Ammon-Ra, bright lord.
Bound to one eternally bound,
Beloved of all loves,
The Moon brought up,
And the Sun down.
The child of two worlds,
become one in this union.
Held in their hands
Salvation and destruction.
Within one - dark and light,
Element and force,
The other weighted, torn and distorted
By blood, greed, and earth.
A knife cleaved the world in two,
Bent to needle, thread to sew.<
Fingers close around them both,
Heals all veils, planes, and worlds.
Zephysus bit his lip and ran his fingers across the elegant script.
“Is it right?” he said aloud, though the room was empty. As soon as his words were out, a soft sigh seemed to coat the room in warmth, soothing him to his very bones.
Well done, Poet. Well done.
Zephysus smiled to himself. Then he made several copies. With the task completed he spread the copies across his desk and stared at them once more.
“Now what do I do?” he asked as he inspected the parchment, satisfied there were no errors.
Send them.
“Send them?!” Zephysus blurted. He looked around the room in consternation. “TO WHOM?! Forces! I'm talking to myself!”
Hardly. In an instant the air swirled about, scattering things this way and that. Dust and light sucked into the far end of the room and a figure, made of what must have been the purest combination of elements and natural forces stood, glowing softly.
“Ammon?” whispered Zephysus in awe. He rubbed his eyes frantically. “But I'm awake! I am awake, am I not?” Zephysus looked down at his arm and pinched himself hard. “Ow!” He cringed and rubbed his red skin. The apparition chuckled.
“Zephysus, send these words to the nemetons. First send one to Uruk. Send one to the isles in the north, to the forest nemeton there. Send one to the hidden nemeton of the far east, and the last belongs to the mountaintop nemeton of the southwest.” Zephysus blinked at the apparition which continued to swirl, bits of it fading in and out, turning in on itself only to be reborn as he watched. Fractals...he thought.
“Will they be safe?” he asked soberly.
“Most will be destroyed. Words will be lost. Interpretations will be wrong. Copies will be inaccurate, as is the way of these things.” Ammon frowned. “Still, enough will last to the time it is needed.” Uncomfortable with