served, worshiped, and went mad, but from the caldera clifftop.
Ikepra. Abomination.
What then was I?
I laughed again. 'Fool.'
The wind engulfed, embraced, tugged. I went with it; let it take me to the edge. I knelt there, supplicant to the sky. And refused.
A shadow drifted over me, across the spire. Unfurled wings. I looked up. Saw the bird. Felt something inside myself respond. My belly cramped. Genitals clenched. I bent at the waist, folding upon myself. Something within me stirred.
Grew.
Unfolded.
Felt imminent.
I shook upon the rock, knees ground into stone. Flesh stood up on my bones; the hair stood up on my flesh. Against my will my arms snapped out, palms flattened, fingers spread. Breath was noisy in my throat. Was expelled from my mouth, and sucked in again. Loudly. And as loudly expelled.
Sweat ran from me. I felt it roll down flesh; saw it splash against the stone. Every inch of that flesh itched. I knelt there, shuddering, aware of the rattling of my bones, the quailing of my spirit.
So easy to let go.
So easy to lean forward.
So easy to tip myself off the rim of the world.
So easy to fall.
So easy to end.
'Del!' I shouted. Louder, again, 'Dellllllllll! '
She was my walls. My house.
Did Herakleio want her so badly? So easy. To let go. To fall. To end.
Light found me there. Kneeling. Denying the gods. Repudiating magic.
Putting my faith in Del. Find me. Find me. Find me. Bascha. Please. Find me?
I lay atop the spire, spine pressed into stone. I was heavy. All of me, heavy. And yet it seemed impossible that I should be so, because there was no food, no water. Only wind. Only sun. Only endless skies, and endless days, and nights that fed me on stars.
In the South, I would have died days before. Here, with moisture in the air, with morning dew, with the breath of seawater against my flesh, death was tardy. But it came. The carrion bird above me, inside me, assured me of that.
Del hadn't come.
Couldn't.
Did not know where, or how.
Or even if I lived.
Had anyone else died atop the spire? Did the carrion bird feast upon the body, scattering the bones? Did the wind blow them off?
Could the wind lift a body?
Carry it?
Could the bird lift a body?
Carry it?
Could I rise and try the skies?
Flesh itched. Bones burned.
Emptiness abounded, save for the imminence.
I was glass, and I would break.
Lift me, carry me, drop me, and I would shatter.
Better I lift me. Better I carry me.
Better I shatter myself.
Hollowness.
Spirit honed to an edge no one could see, but it would cut; oh, yes, it would cut through the flesh before anyone knew.
And kill.
Cut. Slice. Pierce.
Like a sword.
I was a sword.
I was the sword.
The sword.
Conceived in the skies, of the metal made into steel; given birth above the earth.
Falling.
Falling.
Found later, and smelted. Folded. Hammered. Heated. Cooled in the waters, and blessed. And honed.
Wielded.
Jhihadi. Messiah. Slave. Sword-dancer.
Wielded.
Broken?
And heated again. Folded again.
Hammered.
Honed.
Wielded.
My eyes snapped open. I stared up into the skies, aware of but not blinded by the sun. A shadow passed across it, across me. Wings unfurled.
The noise I made sounded not unlike the cry of a carrion-eater.
I rose from the stone and stood upon it for the first time in days. Gazed upon the doubled circle and the world beyond it, the endless skies filled with wind, and gods.
And a bird.
Conceived in the skies, found later, and smelted. So that the essence of me was retained, worked, heated and hammered and honed.
There was nothing left of me but steel.
Sword-dancer.
Dancer.
Sword.
Imminence was a presence.
Wings unfurled.
Shadow passed, darkening my eyes.
Heal me.
Anneal me.
Wings within unfurled.
Anneal me.
I stood on the edge of the spire and unfurled arms, palms, fingers. Felt the wind upon my flesh. Felt it enwrap, enfold, engulf.
Anneal me.
Heels lifted from the stone. Toes gripped. Clung. Balanced.
Anneal me.
Skull tipped back. Sun warmed my face; wind kissed it. Seduced, I let the lids drop closed; saw the red brilliance behind them, filling my head with light.
Comprehension.
Acknowledgement.
