Caramia Concord Principles

The silvering sky brushed the sleepy summer landscape of the plains in shade. Nighttime was settling in and the man and woman barely breathed. Neither of the pair moved. Their eyes stared in frank awe at the jaglion who was stalking leisurely across the ground. Sancia and Sylvestar crouched low behind a huge hollow log that acted as their veil, only the tops of their heads and eyes rose above the log to watch the majestic beast. The big cat’s black mane and tail held silvery tips. Sleek black fur blanketed his body. He was easily the oldest, and biggest, jaglion Sancia had ever seen. The muscular and regal creature crossed the plains in slow and deliberate steps to disappear into the thick cover of forestlands to the west.

Once the feline was out of sight, Sancia stood up with an excited squeal. She hastily opened the bark-covered journal in her hand. “Not one I sought out to see today, but not a bad day’s work!” she said excitedly while scribing the sighting time, location, and physical description of the jaglion. She aimed to see the elusive girabra today, and every day for the past three months.

Sylvestar stood, slapping his cotton clad thighs with his worked hands, creating a cloud of dirt and leaf fragments falling to the ground. “Great, now let’s go or your brother will feed me to a jaggy for letting you stay outside after the silver sets,” he said in the soft-spoken voice she came to adore in the past few months. She imagined he would make a fantastic storyteller for children. That is, if he liked children. Sylvestar was not a particular supporter of people, only animals and a certain angel whose heart he patiently strived to woo. The coin he earned by playing guide to Sancia’s whims went into gifts for the lovely angel. Sancia saw the literal pile of gifts on a window bench in Season’s quarters, opened but remaining unpacked. “A hobby is not reason enough to linger after the day ends. Tomorrow will arrive soon enough and we can return”

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of Serox,” Sancia said in a teasing tone, slipping the journal and ostrich feathered quill pen in her pack. The days fly by far too quickly for her. She felt like she was accomplishing something with a sighting here but the thrill was squashed as soon as it rose because of the dangerous nighttimes in the mortal lands. She frowned, “Just a little longer?” Her hobby, as he so dismissively called it, was a quest of personally seeing every creature and race of people in their realm. Granted, it was no fantastic ground-shattering wish but it gave her something to do and a small sense of accomplishment. She hired Sylvestar as her guide after meeting him through Season.

Lowering his head to peer at her with the look of a disbelieving instructor, Sylvestar snorted lightly. “I like to think it is simply my desire to live a long life, or as long as a mortal man might manage. Ruffling a god’s temper is foolish when it can be avoided,” he said. He turned around where he stood, examining the ground closely to ensure they left no trace of their presence. He pointedly did not acknowledge her request.

Sancia narrowed her eyes at her guide, “You always check, like I’m careless enough to leave taint.” Her lower lip pushed outward slightly.

“A habit, Goddess,” he said. “I do it when I am alone too, not only with you.” Seemingly satisfied with his inspection, Sylvestar swung his pack over his shoulder and nodded his readiness as he offered a hand to his companion.

Sancia reached out for his hand to transport them, but just as she the tip of her fingers touched his flesh, a strange sound rung within her mind, soon followed by an urgent feminine voice. “Goddess Sancia, heed me! Help us to...!” the words abruptly ended with a piercing scream, wail or perhaps it was a cry. It was unpleasant; whatever one would call the cringe-worthy noise.

“I think I just heard a prayer,” Sancia said in a musing manner.

“And this is unique?” Sylvestar asked.

Of course, he would not think it a precious occurrence. Sylvestar was not a three-hundred-thirty-three-year-old goddess who never received a single prayer before. “I think there is trouble and she sounds young, mind us making a stop to see what is wrong before we head to the hills?”

“Just don’t let it take long, our absence will raise alarm,” he said as they clasp hands.

“Uh huh, I wouldn’t want Season worrying over her brave man of the wilds,” she quipped. Closing her eyes, she mentally focused in on the voice of the praying girl and tapped her passage skill.

The stark silence and whiteness of the passage was incredibly quick. This told Sancia the location was not far from where they had been before. As soon as the scene came into view, the desire to smack herself strongly swelled within her mind and her heart stalled. She looked to her friend standing at her right. His hand tightened around hers while his free hand silently reached for his sheathed sword.

The girl was of the common race, roughly twenty years old. She cowered beneath the low branches of an old olive tree growing freely in the thick woodlands. Sancia and Sylvestar landed near her. The sobbing sounds hailing from the girl tingled Sancia’s skin and spine with every fresh hyperventilation before a renewed series of “GRE...gale!” soon followed by more shrieking. The odd factor of the situation was that the girl was not making a single sound vocally; it was all within her own mind. She was perfectly still and quiet to any mortal mind. Had she not been so diligent in her self-control, she would surely not still breathe. The only physical wound Sancia noticed on the girl was a mangled shoulder.

They could not tend to her just then. The four monsters two dozen feet away would soon bore of the tug of war they played with the shredded corpse of the young common man. “Touch her and get us out of here, Goddess,” Sylvestar urged.

Though he whispered the words, the sharp senses of one Maliber caught the slight sound. The broad face turned toward the new arrivals. The pair of stone silver disc orbs locked onto the fresh prey. His mouth slacked, dropping the dismembered arm he held in his jowls, a blood dripped tongue lolling out. The deceased man’s death decorated the pelt around the fiend’s chops. Maliber fangs naturally came colored in a rich red. The element of blood added a grim gleam to the prickly points. He took a step forward and attracted the attention of his companions. Each turned to see what they had missed. The next minutes sped through time.

Sancia moved to reach out to the girl but as she got within range, Sylvestar’s hand fell from her grasp. She could not leave him in this turmoil and thus pivoted to face the assault. Her hand reached for her bow but there was not enough space between herself and the rapidly approaching Malibers. She bent at her waist and retrieved a dagger from each boot. Ideally, she would not be close enough to touch them with such a weapon but this was anything but an ideal situation. Her mind reached out to her twin brother, Serox!

Sanch please, I do not have the need to see every single rare creature you sight. Her brother’s thoughts were distracted and annoyed.

She’s gonna die while he is piddling time to flirt with a pretty girl probably. She assumed this because it was the typical case with Serox.

Sylvestar swung his sword and sliced through the air but did not nick even an ear of the brawny beasts. He did manage to keep them at a distance. That is until he swung at monster number one and monsters number two and four lunged forward, drawing his attention and monster number three pounced with full fiery.

Sancia’s arms stiffened and straightened out to both sides, the blades of her daggers pointing outward as she leaned her chest forward and her shoulders back. Her braids fell around her face as she began to step back, one inch at a time. A brief memory of the jaglion’s movements came to mind. She tried to summon such confidence within herself, or the best fake out she could manage. Sometimes just appearing capable is enough to cause pause from a foe. Tossing her voice, but not her eyes, behind herself, she called to the girl. “I cannot reach you and I must get to him. You have to get up and come to me,” Sancia said.

The wailing renewed. Her arms timidly covered her head, burying her face into the trunk of the tree. Maliber number one turned his attention to Sancia while the other three cloaked Sylvestar’s form with their attacking bulk. Sancia stepped to the side, trying to migrate around the cluster of chaos to the other side, hoping to find an opening to swing her whip to her friend and haul him out of their grasp. As she did this, she rattled off some quick words of healing, or she sure hoped they were. Sancia was fair in many subjects but healing was not among them and she sorely needed this girl to toughen up and forget her heartbreak for just a moment. Mourning doves are sad and cry when their love dies. This came to Sancia’s mind but she wanted to mend the pains, not heighten them. Silver doves are peaceful and gentle. Spirits soar; she mumbled something about the soaring spirit of a silver dove and how love binds for all time. The destroyed body of the dead man rose in the air at that moment and the figure of the girl did so too. Both paralyzed within bright auras of silver. The magics within the auras began to swirl magnificently, and shrink in size. The interior was not visible now. Yep. She messed up, big-time.

Simin shells! She swore mentally. Serox! Malibers!

The three Malibers paused in their attack of Sylvestar and the single one turned his head to stare at the oddity in the center of the clearing. While his back turned away from her, Sancia pushed herself from the ground, landing in a straddle over his back. She leaned forward and sunk a dagger into both temples. She left the daggers in and rushed to get off the beast before he fell to the ground, or she might be stuck beneath him. These four weighed at least twelve hundred pounds apiece. She didn’t expect him to be dead. They were resistant to most weapons and magic. Even the gods had to work in large groups to destroy a single beast. She was wrong. There was no sign of life in the fallen fiend. She killed a Maliber, alone. She stored this notion in the back of her mind to savor later, if later would be so kind as to present itself despite the oncoming dreadful odds.

Her eyes darted from the three enemies to the twin globes that had stopped shrinking and were fading in color to reveal the two silver doves - both very alive. Serox!

“Back up now,” Her brother’s voice came from behind her. Relief flowed through her as she turned. He moved so quickly that she missed his passing from behind her to in front of her with two swords whistling through the air. He stood atop the back of the Maliber to the rear of the group and kept the other two at bay with his fancy handiwork. He was seeking sight of Sylvestar in the midst of the cluster. “Star is dead,” he called.

Sancia did not respond. She was not expecting different news. There had been no sound or sight of their friend for too long.

“Why are you here?” Serox asked as he continued to wave his swords, keeping a balance on the bucking beast.

“I got a prayer,” Sancia said. Now for the fun part. Was it too late to feed herself to the monsters? Sure would be less painful that would come next. “I tried to heal her.”

“How did you kill it?” he asked. He did not address the issue of the mortal woman yet.

“Daggers in the temples,” she answered.

Flicking his wrists effortlessly, Serox slammed the tips of the swords into the temples of the one he stood on. As the creature fell, the god dismounted and rushed to Sancia, slapping her shoulder with his palm.

The stark silence of passage overtook them. Serox landed them on the top of an abandoned watchtower overlooking the Bristella Beach. The height worked to keep them from the sight of anyone passing by. Serox examined his sister from head to boot tip for injury before he pulled her into a snug hug. “Gimme the quick version,” he said as he pulled back.

“We were leaving the scouting spot and I heard the bells. I actually heard the prayer bells! She was asking me for aid,” she broke off with her fingers resting on her lips. “Landed right in it,” she said.

“The healing?” he asked.

“Um,” Her voice did not want to air the happenstance. “Magic,” she figured he would understand and she was right.

Serox inhaled a heaping amount of air through his nose. “And what is the kicker? You have a kicker, I can tell.”

She swallowed, bit her pride and released the words. “Well,” she drew the L out as long as she could. “Her friend was dead and now he’s not and neither of them are people anymore. I was thinking of doves...”

He took it well. Only his throat veins bulged with frustration this time. “Give me your bow and an arrow,” he said.

Although her heart wanted to object, her mind knew not to. She handed over her hickory bow and a single arrow.

He held it with one hand and placed the other on his sister’s shoulder. “Don’t leave the tree and use only mental means,” he said before the passage claimed their bodies.

They landed on a sturdy branch near the low ranks of an old oak tree. The two live Malibers were gone. The two dead ones remained where they fell. They left Sylvestar’s tattered body spread about the ground. The pair of doves sat together high within a tree, across the clearing.

Know which is which? Serox asked silently.

Sancia shook her head.

Coax her.

Sancia could not believe it had come to this. She was going to use the girl’s belief against her, or it sure would seem that way. Keeping her eyes on the doves, Sancia focused her thoughts. The monsters are gone; it is safe to come out of hiding now.

At once, the head of one dove shot up. Before a blinking of an eye could occur, an arrow was through the other bird’s breast.

Sancia’s head hung low, her eyes closed. The soft thud of the bird’s body thumping onto the forest ground caused her jaw to clinch. Serox’s hands clasped the sides of her face, lifting her chin so he could look upon her face. You know that I had no choice. Please know this, Sanch.

When she looked up to where the dove should have been, Sancia did not see any sign of her. I know you think you had to and I know I messed up. What I don’t know is where the girl went and how I will face Season.

Serox planted a loving kiss on her forehead. We’ll fix it, he reassured her.

Sancia was about to respond when intense chiming entered her mind. By the startled expression on her brother’s face, they both received the summoning. A snooping god must have been watching. Great, just hopping great!

Now see if you turned them into crows, we could bring our own snack. Serox smirked playfully and winked at her.

She simply shook her head at him as the whiteness engulfed the twins and carried them to their home on the Tasa moon to face the music.