Storm God, chapter eight
The Taming of the Sky
“…Thus Vorn rose from death with the mark of Thoh upon his brow and the lore of the Dragonstone’s making within his mind…”
-The Elder Zorath, The Book of the First Time.
“You can’t be serious, Vorn,” Zera said incredulously, leaning against the Skithiar’s railing.
“I am.”
“But it’s impossible. Sko won’t let us leave E’a. And even if he did, there’s no air out there. We’d suffocate the moment we got into the Emptiness.”
“He will let us leave, and we won’t suffocate. We’re going to bring some of Sko’s body with us.”
“We’re going to what?”
“I’m going to bind a piece of Sko’s body to the ship, then we’re going to sail to Tenebris.”
Zera frowned. “That’s not… is that possible? I know you've got all sorts of new powers since Thoh marked you.” She glanced at his forehead. “But surely that’s a bit much.”
“They aren't my powers, they're Thoh’s. And yes, it should be possible.”
“Should be? I’d like you to be a little bit more certain than that.”
“I would if I could, but…” He hesitated, rubbing the eye etched into his forehead. “I don’t yet understand my connection with Thoh. His wisdom comes to me in glimmers and fragments. Sometimes as a flood, other times as a trickle. But I’ve seen a vision of our journey. Of the Skithiar traversing the Emptiness, cocooned in a shell of air. I’m not exactly sure how yet, but I’m certain I’ll know what to do when the time comes.”
Zera sighed and pushed herself off the railing. “I was afraid you’d say something like that. You’d better be right about this.” Then she turned away, barking orders to her crew as she strode to the steerboard.
The Skithiar tipped backwards, until the prow pointed directly at the inky blot of the dark moon Tenebris, inset into the star speckled sky above them.
They ascended until they were higher than Vorn had ever been before, higher than the smoking peak of distant Sorholm, higher even than the towering canopy of the Great Tree, Yani. The winds howled around them, deafeningly loud, shaking the ship.
“The sails won’t take much more of this,” Zera called from the helm.
“They’ll be fine,” Vorn called back. From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Thalsi, pale faced and clutching desperately to the mast. “We will be fine,” he said to her.
Her expression told him she wasn’t convinced.
The turbulence grew stronger, violently jostling the ship. The crew hunkered down, gripping to mast, rope, and rail for support; many tied themselves down.
The wood groaned, and the sails snapped between furious flapping and creaking tautness. E’a slipped further and further behind them, spread out below like some distant map. The greenery of Yani’s canopy and the verdant Highlands at its centre were ringed by the Inner Ocean and the narrow white line of the Wall of Kethis. Beyond were the vast Lowlands stretching from the Wall to the Edge, ranging from deserts in the south and west to frozen mountains in north and east. The brown and black streaks of Tarneb’s corruption ranged across its surface like a twisted web. From here, E’a looked so beautiful, yet so fragile; the artful work of countless divine hands.
“Stormtamer!” Kaberim cried from where he and his brother huddled in the nook of the prow. Vorn looked around. The entire crew was white with terror.
“If you’re going to do something, Vorn, now would be the time,” Zera called, straining against the steerboard.
Heat blossomed in Vorn’s forehead and moved by the spirit of Thoh, he walked to the prow, muttering an arcane incantation. He smiled down at Kaberim as he stepped up onto the prow, holding his axe aloft.
Then he whispered to Sko, the great spirit of the sky, in the secret tongue of the primordials. “Oh Sko, Great Sky Father, calm your children, the winds. Grant us leave to venture beyond the confines of E’a so that we may wander the Emptiness and return.”
Around the Skithiar the winds raged, taking vaguely humanoid shapes and tearing at the ship with claws of cloud and mist.
“Who are you to command me?” Sko answered in a voice like a thundering gale. “The Herazor think themselves the masters of all. You insult Zenops, you slay Nira, you make war upon Tarneb, and thus you make war upon all the primordials of the Middle World.”
“I make no commands. I only beseech you in our time of need. I did not start this war. I only do what I must to bring it to an end and ensure all of our survival.”
“You did not start this war? I see you, Thoh, hiding within the flesh of your nephew. You will not gain access to the Emptiness through me.”
“I will…I must.”
Before them, the winds converged, coalescing into a face, stern and careworn.
“By the Law of the Great Order, I fence E’a from the Emptiness beyond. You will not pass.”
“We will.”
Holding his axe aloft, Vorn uttered a word of power and light shone forth from his forehead. The quartz embedded into his axe’s head ignited, shaking and humming. Cracks rippled across its surface, for the power held in the Word of Thoh was too great. The scrollwork on the blade glowed blue, and heat shimmered through the air, racing down its haft and burning Vorn’s hand.
“Let us pass!” Vorn bellowed.
“Never!”
The axe trembled in Vorn’s hand. He swung it forward, unleashing the power built up within it in a torrent directed at the face of Sko’s avatar. It resisted, convulsing, then dissipated. Vorn reached out, renting the wind and sky aside to make a hole for their escape. Stillness fell over the Skithiar. Sko howled, rushing to bar the way. Vorn swung in a wide arc, and intoning an incantation, he severed Sko from Sko. Even as the sky reached for them, Vorn wrapped Sko’s severed body around the Skithiar, and as they passed the gap and won free into the Emptiness, he pulled the piece of Sko with them.
The crew cheered. Vorn let out a long, ragged breath, and eased himself down to the deck. His skin was slick with sweat and his side, which he thought to be healed completely from Tarneb’s venom, ached. The cracks webbed across his axe smoked.
Zera barked orders at her crew and they lept back to action. Although many kept glancing over the railing at the void beyond in disbelief.
“Stormtamer?” Kaberim asked, emerging from the nook with his brother. “Are you well?” He unbuckled his waterskin and handed it to Vorn.
“Fine, Kaberim, thank you. I just need to rest. Taming the Sky Spirit is no trivial matter.” He drained the waterskin; sized for a mortal as it was, it hardly gave him a swallow.
“No, indeed,” Kaberim’s eyes widened and he dropped to his knees. “Your power is unmatched. Now you are the Skytamer and the Stormtamer.”
Vorn sighed. At least the title Skytamer actually made sense. From the far end of the Skithiar, Zera nodded to him, smiling.
Vorn grunted, leaning back to rest as Ariana emerged from the hold, trailed by Ama and Haymor. “Very impressive, Vorn,” she said in a soft voice.
“Thank you, sister.”
“How do you fare?”
Kaberim spoke up, “he said he’s–”
Ariana silenced him with a raised hand. He stepped back, bowing his head.
“I’m fine,” Vorn said. Already his breath was returning.
“So you always say,” Ariana said, kneeling in front of him and putting a hand on his forehead. “It wasn’t long ago Tarneb’s venom destroyed your body and killed you.”
“It was what was needed for me to meet with Thoh. All was as Ilo willed it.”
“So it would seem. You appear well, although I still feel traces of Tarneb’s venom within you. Be mindful of your body. Too much strain may make you sick again.”
“Imagine what sort of powers he’d come back with if he died again,” Zera called from the helm.
Ariana rolled her eyes. “Ilo let you return once, but she may not send you back a second time.”
“I know,” Vorn said. “If I returned to the Underworld, Zenops would do everything in his power to keep me there.”
“Just let me know if you feel yourself deteriorating again. I’ll do what I can for you.”
“Thank you, sister.”
Vorn nodded to her, then stood and walked to the helm. Kaberim and his brothers followed close behind.
“You had me worried there for a second,” Zera said. “I thought for sure Sko would throw us back.”
Thalsi nodded from where she still leant against the mast.
“He almost did. Our departure didn’t go as well as I’d hoped.”
“You still got us through though,” Zera said, gazing at the vast empty expanse around the ship. “We must be the first to have passed Sko’s ward in what?”
“Something like three thousand years.”
“I’m impressed, truly. We’ve even got a favourable wind.” She gestured at the sail.
Vorn nodded. “I don’t know how much of Sko’s mind is held in this piece of him, though. For now, the air moves as I intended and the binding holds with no resistance, but who knows? If enough of his will remains, that may change.”
Thalsi looked around frantically.
“Don’t worry, Thalsi,” Zera said. “The air won’t just break free of the ship. Right, Vorn?”
“I hope not.”
“Really reassuring.”
“If he tries to break free, I’ll do what I can to restrain him.”
Behind them, the blue, green disk of E’a was slowly slipping further and further away, with the first sliver of the golden sun creeping out from behind it. Ahead was distant Tenebris, a sphere of crimson flecked darkness.
All around them, the other moons danced their eternal spiral dance with E’a at their centre. Roh, the green and Igna the red, hung to their right, while Ayal the blue and Vayal the white were on their left. The light moon Rosan was hidden behind E’a; the two greater moons were always opposite each other, never sharing the sky. Somewhere out there were the distant spheres, Heraz and Ty and other worlds of which Vorn knew little, too distant to discern amongst the stars.
“Just try to keep us on course,” Vorn said, looking towards their destination. “I’ll worry about maintaining the binding.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
If you have any feedback regarding the story, either positive or negative, don’t hesitate to let me know. I’m always looking to improve.
Thank you for your time and attention, I truly do appreciate it.
What a feat! Vorn and Thoh are formidable when paired, they have so much power.
Using the body of Sko to sail the Emptiness was very clever.