Pultine eventually cooled as she levitated in a corner of the formation. Her wings flapped in a blur at her back and her arms were crossed at her chest as Yana finished construction of the armor. Pultine often slept that way and she was asleep as she cooled because burning at such a high temperature for a prolonged period took a lot out of her. She had only burned so hot for Yana on very few occasions when the Queen worked with Grootslang’s gems; it took a very high heat to properly integrate the properties of the gems into metals. The color of Grootslang’s gems dictated the properties they gave to inanimate objects and abilities they gave to Fonlanders who could consume them. The green gems that Pultine had taken granted regenerative abilities, but Grootslang had gems in seemingly countless colors.
Pultine dreamed about the forest of Agê’s disc under siege by a large eagle emmating fire from its body that swept over the flora and left ashes in its wake. She flew toward the eagle, a ball of charged light like a comet with a long blazing tail, and she used the momentum of her flight to land a solid punch in the eagle’s fiery belly that buckled under the punch and sent the body of fire back, shattering it to embers behind the humanoid form of Seraphiel wrapped in feathers and small feathered wings from shoulder to ankle, with his large wings beating at his back and keeping him aloft in the sky over the smoldering remains of Agê’s disc.
“You are a thorn in my paw,” he snarled, his mouth big and viscous, his eyes glaring. “You Fonlanders don’t understand that your place of divinity over my realm is just your own pretentious illusion. You lorde over weaker beings of your discs, serving your absent mother-father, while the true God, the visionary of creation, was among you all along. Lêgba is the true father, and I am his design, more pristine than anything the Fonlands could cook up. And I am legion, Endla is full of the true father’s creation, and we will show you your place. Your best is not enough.”
“You are abomination!” Pultine yelled. She was so filled with rage at Seraphiel’s words that she strained her entire body. “You things came to my home and polluted it with your hate and your envy. And poor Welboas, a slave to that mad Vodun who makes you. You will pay for her suffering, and for the death of Tracia…”
“Welboas is exactly where she wants to be,” Seraphiel said with a nasty grin. “And as for your dear Tracia, she was collateral damage. Your mmoatia Supreme Hive seemed to agree.”
Pultine could not contain her rage and she began to scream and flare as she flew toward the sickening grin on Seraphiel’s face, but when she thought her fist was smashing into his face, shattering whatever gave it structure, she felt the hard stone wall of the rock formation, and she heard the loud thud of the blow shake the area, freeing dust from the rock. She looked around herself with panic and saw Yana and Rusa staring at her with concern.
“Bad dream?” Yana asked.
“Sorry about that,” Pultine apologized. “I am eager to continue the quest, is all. Thank you for helping me and allowing Rusa and I to dwell here, but my mind is far away.”
“I know you are eager, my dear friend,” Yana said sympathetically. “I can feel your hatred for Seraphiel and your fires burn in me. I want to see you rid of the worry he brings, and to be honest, I hear he’s messing up my steady supply of rhasd, trying to horde it all to himself. Shall we get back to work? I can fire your weapon and your boy Rusa in one go and then you can rest a little before you leave.”
Pultine nodded and followed Yana back to their work. She didn’t look at Rusa or speak to him. There would be plenty of time for words when they left Yana and the Chamber of the Unseeing All-knowing. She was shaken by the dream she’d had, as close to scared as she ever allowed herself to be at the reality that her enemy was legion. Endla was full of things like Seraphiel with elaborate wings all over their bodies, with powers that rivaled Fonlanders, and she couldn’t know if Yana’s weapon and Rusa’s enhancements would be enough. She didn’t want Rusa to see her worry, her doubt.
She pretended not to hear Rusa when he yelled, “Wish me luck!” as she climbed into the forge. She thought of Seraphiel and used her hatred of him to fuel her heat, but she concentrated to avoid melting the rocks that surrounded her. She focused the heat to her head so that it would burn up, and she listened for Yana approaching or leaving the forge to determine when to intensify or dim the heat.
Yana had been standing over the vivisected body of Rusa for a while, and eventually she was joined by Pultine. On the wall behind them, Yana’s finished armor hung large with sprawling wings like she possessed. Yana had already lined the skin of Rusa’s torso with the gem-infused rhasd, and she and Pultine watched the healing process. The plates of rhasd on his neck, wings and at the ends of each of his severed limbs looked to be melting, but the material had bonded to the flesh and was being drawn under the skin to line the interior of his head and each wing and limb. Yana moved the parts of Rusa together so they all made physical contact, and Yana excused herself to eat and rest while Rusa healed.
Pultine stared at Rusa’s face. His beak was open and his eyes were closed like they would never open again. His brown skin was pale under his feathers.
“You are a good boy, Rusa,” she said to him. “And when you open your eyes, you will be a good man. You already look bigger than before, your face looks older. I will tell you a secret, sweet boy. I need you. I can’t do what I must do alone and I need you to be strong at my side. I don’t want more mmoatia, risking themselves against Lêgba. We’re just wombs to him. I need you to open your eyes, and when you do, I need you to be your greatest self, better than the boy I met on Wiis who has followed me across two realms. I felt your potential the first time I laid eyes on you and we have come a long way so that you can realize it.”
She watched his face, and then saw that his naked body was completely intact with his wings at his back, but he didn’t appear to be breathing. She watched him for a while, and when Yana returned, they both stared solemnly, hoping for Rusa to take a breath or to move some part of his body.
“Have you eaten anything?” Yana asked.
“I really can’t eat,” Pultine said with a sigh. “You know me, I’m not shy, when I’m hungry I eat. But I just don’t feel it.”
“Do you love him, Pultine? Or was this just about choosing the strongest Wiiser for this process?”
“Can’t it be both?” Pultine said with a smirk.
“It’s not, though, is it?”
“What is love anyway?” Pultine said, almost annoyed. “I didn’t murder him when I was sure of Seraphiel’s game on Wiis. I have let him pleasure me, which he loves, on more than one occasion. Who cares if I love him if I keep him happy as we complete my quest? I care for him deeply and I will protect his life to my last. Is that love?”
“No, it isn’t. It’s ok, you’re using him and he is clear-headed about it. I don’t mean to sound judgemental if it sounds that way. I’ve just never seen you so close to someone. Whatever it takes to realize your plan, right?”
Pultine nodded. She felt no guilt about using Rusa, and if he never opened his eyes again, she would only mourn the loss of a compatriot on her quest.
Rusa’s wingtips began to twitch and Pultine stood over him as his eyes opened. He sat up and looked around himself. He was still very handsome, perhaps more so and his skin seemed to glow. He smiled at Pultine when he looked up at her.
“Is it time to leave the Chamber?” Rusa asked.
“Are you ok?” she asked.
“I am yours and I am alive, I am ok.”
Yana stared at Rusa and he seemed to be the same person that he was before.
“Will you try to sleep again before you go?” Yana asked.
“I think we’re both eager to be on our way,” Pultine said. “Thank you, my friend. I am forever in your debt. I will see you when this is done.”
“Bring me news of Seraphiel’s fiery death,” Yana said with a laugh and soon she was watching Pultine and Rusa walk away from the formation as she leaned in the doorway.
PRL Serials 