Kingdom of the Rising Sun that she burned…they called her the Abomination, the Destroyer. So many names, and all of them yours by right.”
“I am not the Moroaica,” said Caina, puzzled. The Sage Talekhris had made the same error, mistaking Caina for Jadriga, but Jadriga’s spirit had been trapped within Caina’s flesh at the time. A strange idea occurred to her. “You said I was the one you were looking for…but were you really looking for the Moroaica the entire time?” She laughed. “If so, you are too late. She is dead.”
Samnirdamnus made Kylon’s mouth move in a lazy smile. “I am not so sloppy, my darling demonslayer. You are not the Moroaica, and I have not sought for her. But, ah….it is such a pity you cannot see your own aura. So dark, so scarred, so heavy with the shadows cast by both your past and your future. If you could see yourself with the eyes of the spirit, then perhaps you could understand why someone might mistake you for the Moroaica.”
“The Sifter,” said Caina. “It said something similar when it tried to consume me.”
“The Sifter failed to understand you as I do, dark child,” said Samnirdamnus. “Consequently you defeated the ifrit.” He scoffed with disdain. “The ifriti were never all that clever. When one’s attention is focused entirely upon one’s next meal, I suppose that is inevitable.”
“What is this about?” said Caina.
“About?” said the djinni. “Must it be about something? Can one not simply enjoy a pleasant conversation?”
“Not you,” said Caina. “There’s always a reason, always a purpose. Your counsel has aided me before. The daevagoths in the Widow’s Tower, or against the Red Huntress at Silent Ash Temple. So you have a reason for talking to me now.”
“The stormdancer,” said Samnirdamnus, the burning eyes brightening in Kylon’s face. “What do you think of him?”
“You’re in my head,” said Caina. “You can find out for yourself.”
“Interesting,” said Samnirdamnus. “You cannot even admit the truth to yourself.”
Caina start to bite out an angry response, and then pushed back her temper. “Thank you for that insight. Do you have more counsel for me, or shall I listen to one of your obscure monologues?”
“I believe,” said Samnirdamnus, “that you might be the one I have sought. I have been looking for you, or at someone like you, for a very long time. Look at the things you have done. You defied the Moroaica herself, the Herald of Ruin that the Iramisians of old so dreaded, and you even slew her for the final time. You went into the Maze and came out with your life and freedom and even your sanity. Such as it is. You defeated the Red Huntress, and you defeated the Sifter. You indeed may be strong enough to be the one I have sought.”
“We’ve been playing this game for nearly two years now,” said Caina. “I am either the one you have sought or I am not. Which is it to be?”
“Why, my dear Balarigar, my darling demonslayer, my clever dark child,” said Samnirdamnus. “You will either become the one I have been looking for, or you shall not. And in the next few months, I shall find the answer.”
“Why?” said Caina.
“Because you will either be the one I have sought,” said Samnirdamnus, “or you shall be dead.”
Caina felt a chill. “From what?”
Samnirdamnus smirked, his eyes of smokeless flame flashing. “Think of all the enemies so eager to slay the Balarigar. All the foes you have collected. All of them are hunting for you, now, even as we speak. Your enemies hate each other as much as they hate you, but they will still have you dead.”
“Then do you have anything useful to say?” said Caina. “Or shall you give me vague warnings about perils I already know I face?”
“Only this. Do work out what you feel about the stormdancer,” said Samnirdamnus. “Very soon, now. For the silver fire is your only salvation.”
“My salvation?” said Caina.
“I am not the Moroaica,” said Caina, puzzled. The Sage Talekhris had made the same error, mistaking Caina for Jadriga, but Jadriga’s spirit had been trapped within Caina’s flesh at the time. A strange idea occurred to her. “You said I was the one you were looking for…but were you really looking for the Moroaica the entire time?” She laughed. “If so, you are too late. She is dead.”
Samnirdamnus made Kylon’s mouth move in a lazy smile. “I am not so sloppy, my darling demonslayer. You are not the Moroaica, and I have not sought for her. But, ah….it is such a pity you cannot see your own aura. So dark, so scarred, so heavy with the shadows cast by both your past and your future. If you could see yourself with the eyes of the spirit, then perhaps you could understand why someone might mistake you for the Moroaica.”
“The Sifter,” said Caina. “It said something similar when it tried to consume me.”
“The Sifter failed to understand you as I do, dark child,” said Samnirdamnus. “Consequently you defeated the ifrit.” He scoffed with disdain. “The ifriti were never all that clever. When one’s attention is focused entirely upon one’s next meal, I suppose that is inevitable.”
“What is this about?” said Caina.
“About?” said the djinni. “Must it be about something? Can one not simply enjoy a pleasant conversation?”
“Not you,” said Caina. “There’s always a reason, always a purpose. Your counsel has aided me before. The daevagoths in the Widow’s Tower, or against the Red Huntress at Silent Ash Temple. So you have a reason for talking to me now.”
“The stormdancer,” said Samnirdamnus, the burning eyes brightening in Kylon’s face. “What do you think of him?”
“You’re in my head,” said Caina. “You can find out for yourself.”
“Interesting,” said Samnirdamnus. “You cannot even admit the truth to yourself.”
Caina start to bite out an angry response, and then pushed back her temper. “Thank you for that insight. Do you have more counsel for me, or shall I listen to one of your obscure monologues?”
“I believe,” said Samnirdamnus, “that you might be the one I have sought. I have been looking for you, or at someone like you, for a very long time. Look at the things you have done. You defied the Moroaica herself, the Herald of Ruin that the Iramisians of old so dreaded, and you even slew her for the final time. You went into the Maze and came out with your life and freedom and even your sanity. Such as it is. You defeated the Red Huntress, and you defeated the Sifter. You indeed may be strong enough to be the one I have sought.”
“We’ve been playing this game for nearly two years now,” said Caina. “I am either the one you have sought or I am not. Which is it to be?”
“Why, my dear Balarigar, my darling demonslayer, my clever dark child,” said Samnirdamnus. “You will either become the one I have been looking for, or you shall not. And in the next few months, I shall find the answer.”
“Why?” said Caina.
“Because you will either be the one I have sought,” said Samnirdamnus, “or you shall be dead.”
Caina felt a chill. “From what?”
Samnirdamnus smirked, his eyes of smokeless flame flashing. “Think of all the enemies so eager to slay the Balarigar. All the foes you have collected. All of them are hunting for you, now, even as we speak. Your enemies hate each other as much as they hate you, but they will still have you dead.”
“Then do you have anything useful to say?” said Caina. “Or shall you give me vague warnings about perils I already know I face?”
“Only this. Do work out what you feel about the stormdancer,” said Samnirdamnus. “Very soon, now. For the silver fire is your only salvation.”
“My salvation?” said Caina.
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