Perceiving a threat heading her way, Zov’ha decided to scout the wilderness to the south — towards Neva. She made sure to distance herself from Efiros’ cave, so he would not be disturbed. By dusk, she reached a shaded knoll from where she could sense movement in the darkness by a stream to the south. A hunting party was camped there for the night — she could feel their soft footfalls on the ground from where she lay hidden. They are definitely hunting me… but why? As she settled in for the night, she remembered something that Amaha had warned her about the first time they had met: You are known to many, my child. There are others who are looking for you. Some of them have good intentions, while others have plans of their own.
The walls and towers of Neva’s High Cathedral were visible from her hideout, crowning the hill they were constructed on, looming tall on the horizon. As the sun rose the next day, Zov’ha could make out a wide lake beyond the city, upon which was constructed a grand, otherworldly metropolis. Amaha had not told her about such a paradise. The distant silhouettes of its curved buildings, arched bridges, and snaking highways enamoured her. So engrossed she was with the beauty of it that she did not catch sight of the drone that had ventured into her hideout.
By the time the first light of the morning emblazoned the treetops on the cliff, snipers from the camp had begun firing at her. She dashed through the thick woods, as bullets continued to whistle from the south, marking the places they hit with black scars. The onslaught of artillery fire that ensued smashed the tree branches around her to bits and threw up dirt where the bullets hit the floor. The projectiles came in quick, successive shots of threes, then twos, then threes again. A bolt action sniper… dispensing multiple rounds per shot — deadly, but inaccurate… guided trajectory. Zov’ha recognised the sound of the weapon like she knew the sound of her own voice. Something from her past memories guided her, keeping count of the shots, making her dodge easily. To her surprise, her index finger twitched whenever she heard the echoing flat, clapping sound of the bullet leaving the barrel. I had one of these. All the while she was in Aeroz, she believed she had been some sort of fighter — athletic feats came to her naturally; learning how to use the lance, too, was almost instinctive — but a gun… She did not want to believe that her past had been that violent. Handheld weapons required skill and agility; they could be controlled so as to not cause too much harm. But guns were vicious. The thought sent shivers down her spine.
Running northwest, away from Efiros’ cave, she traversed the landscape relatively easily. It seemed to her like she could easily find rock surfaces to grab, boulders to jump on to, and avoid slippery mud; she could feel these before she could see them. It was instinct. After a while the shooting ceased. Confident that she had outrun her hunters, she came to a halt under the shadow of two mountains looming before her. The path ahead sloped downwards, leading directly into the gap between the mountains. She heard something then that made her heart leap to her mouth — loud thumping footfalls running towards her — not many, but just one. Fear gripped her like the sharp talons of a snowy owl.
As she turned to face her assailant, a massive arm grabbed her, picked her up, and brought her crashing down to the hard ground. The takedown was so brutal that it felt as if her spine had been crushed. As all the air escaped her lungs, she lost her vision for a few seconds. Harrowing agony disseminated from her backbone to all parts of her body. Feeling the ground sloping downwards, she used it to her advantage to roll away as far as she could.
‘Too scared to keep running, kitten?’ came a surprisingly cheery voice. Peering through teary eyes against the bright sky, she could make out a great, barrel-chested giant standing at the top of the slope with her arms crossed, waiting for Zov’ha to get up. ‘Tell you what, you can either surrender and willingly come back with us to Neva, and this will all be over quickly… or I can beat you to a pulp and drag your body back with us.’
‘Poor, little hellion,’ said another hunter coming up behind the giant. She had a deep and harsh voice, and she sounded a little out of breath. Zov’ha could make out a tall figure in scarlet robes. ‘There aren’t any Astraleids anymore to help you… so there’s no use running!’
Astraleids? Maybe I can talk to them! Zov’ha knew that she was burnt out, and if she decided to run, she would tire quickly. She had barely slept at night, and she had travelled a great distance the previous day. She would have to take her chances with a parley. She needed to know what they knew about the Astraleids.
Breathing heavily, Zov’ha pushed herself up despite the pain. She took a step back in caution.
‘Uh-uh,’ the scarlet-clad hunter warned. ‘Not another step. Subeya, bring her down, so she doesn’t run again.’
The hulking Poban charged towards Zov’ha immediately. She was not fast enough to dodge the attacker. Subeya smashed Zov’ha’s abdomen with a crushing blow that sent her flying into an underbrush. Feeling like she may have injured a rib, Zov’ha hurled blood and bile where she landed. The giant leaped towards her, but this time Zov’ha reacted quickly. One great hand smashed the ground where Zov’ha’s head had been as she rolled away, and the other hand buried itself in the mud and pool of her vomit, which splashed as she dodged away again. The monstrous Poban was on top of Zov’ha now, restricting her movement with one large leg on her chest. As Subeya pressed her weight down upon her, Zov’ha could feel the air being squeezed out of her lungs.
‘Turn into shadow or run, and I’ll wring the life out of you!’ Subeya spat. Her teeth were sharp, and Zov’ha would have bared her fangs in retaliation, but the recent incident with her gums made her think otherwise. ‘Anandil, enough of this chatter. Let’s take her back!’
‘Oh, ho,’ Anandil guffawed, walking gracefully towards Zov’ha. She had a long face with sharp features. Her eyes were dark and gleamed as she looked at Zov’ha with a triumphant expression of a predator catching sight of a trapped prey. Black, swirly lines were inked on her face — resembling the dark veins of Astraleids, Zov’ha realised, remembering the ones she had seen in Marana’s encephalosync. ‘What will you do now, Ghost? You’re nothing but an ancient relic!’
Zov’ha wanted to tell them that she was innocent, that she only wanted to talk. She had so many questions… but she could barely breathe with the giant suffocating her. Then Zov’ha giggled, despite the weight on her chest. Subeya loosened her grip a little, which made Zov’ha laugh. She thumped her fists on the ground and kicked her feet merrily. She felt exhilarated, almost euphoric. She cackled like a maniac, forcing the giant to step back and release her grip entirely. Iridescent black liquid filled the whites of Zov’ha’s eyes as she took a deep breath. Stone sharp claws extended from her fingers. She realised there was a continuous line of command instinctively running at the back of her head, error-free and clean, telling her body exactly what to do. Her senses quickly attuned to the situation. She grabbed the giant’s sides with her razor-sharp claws, tearing through her cuirass armour. Subeya howled in pain and Zov’ha jumped to her feet.
Holding her sides the giant straightened up, snarling, ready for a brawl. She cautiously stepped forward, eyeing Zov’ha’s razor-sharp claws. One - two - she swerved her broad knuckles trying to punch Zov’ha, who adroitly dodged both hits. Two more punches, both missed. Zov’ha was too fast for her. Anandil watched, a gun in hand, aimed at Zov’ha, biding her time for the perfect shot. But another shot rang through the forest, echoing in the mountains to the south. It had been fired from somewhere behind them, blackening the ground near Zov’ha’s feet.
‘Cease fire!’ Anandil growled into a device on her arm, turning away from Zov’ha to look for the shooter. ‘We have her now.’
Zov’ha realised that the rest of the party was catching up. Too many guns to dodge — she needed to run again. The pain in her abdomen felt distant, and she felt spirited, fuelled by the transformation her body had undergone. Using this distraction as an opportunity, she lashed out with her claws at Subeya, tearing the flesh of her face. As the giant roared in pain with her eyes closed, Zov’ha leaped away from the two panicked shots from Anandil and tumbled down the slope.
Swift as a hare Zov’ha dashed into the gap between the mountains. To her luck, the narrow path through the mountains forked and curved at several intersections, allowing her to randomly choose a route and confuse her hunters. She could hear Subeya’s thundering footsteps far away. If Zov’ha did not keep her feet, her pursuers would surely catch up. Jumping over roots and brush, her breath now quick and her heart pounding fast, she felt the wind rushing through her hair and fur, and her sweat moistening her skin. She felt like she could run forever. The chase felt exhilarating, despite the pain — she smiled, a wide smile.
The gap in the mountains was getting wider, and to her surprise, she came across wide stone stairs built into a grassy rise. She stopped to catch her breath as her transformation was wearing off. She felt a tenderness on the left-side of her abdomen, where the Poban had punched her; she had surely broken something. Her head was pounding as well, a pain radiating from the back. Feeling something trickle down the back of her neck, she retracted her stone claws and felt it with her fingers. She winced as she touched the area, and her fingertips came away bloody — probably from when she hit her head on the ground. She could go on, she realised, but she had learnt through her hardships in the wilderness that no matter what she was chasing or running away from, it was always good to stop and take a break. You cannot keep a fire burning if you run out of air. The thundering footsteps of the Poban were now very distant, and she assumed they had lost her.
Willow warblers and thrush squawked and chirped erratically in the shaded gorge. The sky had started turning blue already, visible above her between the rocky clifftops. Pushing aside her exhaustion, she deliberately ascended the wide stone stairs, bending low as she did not know what to expect over the horizon.
As she made her way to the top, she caught sight of an enormous white-marble obelisk in the ravine. To her surprise, the structure was inverted, and it floated in mid-air. Tall as a tower, it remained there, suspended by an invisible force, its spire pointed downwards. There were curious symbols carved on it — triangles whose corners ended in tiny circles. She had come across such a design somewhere before, but she could not quite place where she had seen it. Sunlight bathed the ravine in golden light as it crept over the mountains to the east.
Zov’ha sensed movement to the south — careless feet stepping on gravel — the hunting party had tracked her. They had the advantage of range. A thick fog had begun to descend from the mountains — that would be her advantage. Sprinting up the stairs, she made her way across the grassy clearing towards the strange structure. Within minutes she had reached the site of the obelisk. The circular perimeter was tiled with white marble. Two circles of metal plates, one wider than the other, which looked like an alloy of gold or bronze, lined the circumference of this border.
Biting through the pain, Zov’ha made her way to the obelisk. She saw a large crevice directly under the inverted spire. The floor underneath the structure was also made of marble — the tiles were cold, and were now soiled with the trail of her blood. Three metal cylinders were constructed at each corner of the triangular-shaped opening — resembling the symbols on the obelisk. The mouth of the crevice was almost thirty metres wide. Cautiously making her way towards the edge, she peeped into it. There was an enormous subterranean chamber around twenty metres deep, with a triangular dias in the middle. Iron railings guarded the dias, which gave the impression that the dias could move. It could be a lift, Zov’ha thought.
The walls of the chamber were crowded with controls and screens that seemed to have been unused for a long time. Creepers and wild plants had taken over everything, and the whole place looked like it was in disrepair. This would have to do for now. She turned around to get a peek of many silhouettes heading her way — especially one of a considerable size — the giant Poban named Subeya. She found a metal ladder that was built into the wall and descended into the subterranean chamber, wincing every time her swollen abdomen stung her. As she reached the bottom, she retched, kneeling as she hurled more blood and bile. Dizzy, she felt a ringing in her head. The world was spinning and she knew she would crash any moment. Where is the button for this lift? There were so many buttons and dials, she found it a little amusing. Despite her condition, she giggled, just like she had before.
A hand-sized white triangular panel on the wall caught her eye. That looks like it could do something. She tried to push herself up, but her muscles refused to oblige. She remained there, knees and hands to the floor, feeling the rumble of the approaching hunting party. She concentrated, feeling the uneven, chequered surface of the aluminium tread plates, deciphering the enigmatic pattern of the matrix. It was not as easy to replicate as the rock she had been lying on the previous day. Orderly… well-structured… the code has to be perfect. She suddenly felt like she was being watched and pushed herself up. Error!
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