A Brilliant Piece of Jade
"Ngia’wi’ stood transfixed; her tiny fingers tracing shapes painted centuries ago."
The following is an original tale from Amashik, written in response to the first Prompt Quest by Brian Reindel. If you enjoy it, make sure you subscribe for more.
The dimly lit cave walls echoed with memories. Some were Ngo’li’s, but most belonged to The Veil. The faint sound of dripping water lulled her into a meditative state; times passed, lives lived, and people lost flooded Ngo’li’s mind. A question broke through and snapped her back into the present.
Could she feel it too? Startled, she looked over her shoulder and found her daughter hadn’t run off.
Ngia’wi’ stood transfixed; her tiny fingers tracing shapes painted centuries ago. The uneven terrain underfoot hadn’t slowed the child. Nor did the musty smell of damp earth or the faint glow of bioluminescent fungi pull her attention from the remnants of her ancestor’s rich history.
For thousands of years, the hlavin lived in peace above ground. They existed in harmony with the other races- until The Shattering changed everything. Despite the calamity claiming many of their own, the other races forced the hlavin underground for causing it.
“Fa’ha, what does this one say?” Ngia’wi asked.
“Dwell in the depths, my beloved, for that is where we reside.”
“What does that mean?” The little girl replied.
“Come, my dear. We’ve only a little further to go.”
The lower they descended, the more Ngo’li remembered her own journey into these catacombs. Her mother, Na’pa, told her stories of the customary crossing of The Veil. The tradition was centuries old by the time The Shattering took place. Na’wora Faha1 led a group of humans from the desolation in Rhitia to their permanent home in “her heart”, now known as Kavana. Hlavin and human made a pact to protect against the aberrant forces that destroyed their world. Humanity would keep the hlavin’s survival a secret and in return the hlavin would protect the passage. The ensuing formation of The Order of The Jade Crest ensured the safety of fa sa ‘tawa2.
Na’wora Faha was the first to stand ready, with her daughter taking up the mantle after her. She passed the honor onto her own firstborn daughter, and she to hers. Ngo’li found herself a part of this ancient line of hlavin women, now on a quest to find out if Ngia’wi was worthy of continuing it.
Unlike her predecessors, Ngia’wi wasn’t the first; though, unlike her sisters, she’d survived Ngo’li’s incumbency.
Having arrived, Ngo’li checked again for her young daughter. Ngia’wi was busy humming, hands still caressing the cavern’s jagged walls as she caught up with her mother. The tune itself was unfamiliar to Ngo’li, but that wasn’t odd. Ngia’wi had the gift, Ngo’li knew it- she also knew the thinning that occurred at this depth. How its pull tugged at your essence, how the cacophony of voices could overwhelm even the most experienced Transcended. Which is why Ngia’wi’s blithe disposition only served to further Ngo’li’s doubts.
Could this all be in vain?
“Blasphemy.” A whisper spoke from deep within her and yet was not her own.
Speaking ill of The Widow’s prophecy here, where The Veil is thinnest, was a mistake. Ngo’li knew what such thoughts could invite their way.
“Ngia’wi, to me, please.” Ngo’li was attempting to clear her head; she knew she was too late.
Doubt crept in again, this time catching herself, Ngo’li knelt and put her hands on Ngia’wi’s narrow shoulders.
“Giˈangi ˈkiso3, are you ready?” Ngo’li asked whilst fighting back tears.
“Yes, Fa’ha. Are there pretty pictures in there too?!”
Ngo’li could hear the excitement in her daughter’s voice as acutely as she felt her own dread as Ngia’wi pointed to the door behind her. Ornate patterns of sharp lines and harsh corners surrounded the door’s frame. What secrets it held were not for her this time.
“Yes, but you’ll be elsewhere, Ngia’wi.”
“Where, Fa’ha?”
“You will know in time. Until then, I’ll be waiting.”
Sensing that the time was right, Ngo’li placed her hand on the center of the door, closed her eyes, and began reciting her Order’s sacred words.
“Ja ˈanga nalo’za ˈazo ka’da I roˈjosi bi vi’mo. Ja ˈanga sa ˈdofi ga I anoˈfa bi viˈwo diˈbowi fa doˈgoja. Ja aˈnga ˈsafi sa fa giˈfa ga Fa ˈJade Navo’di da ka’da ho’rolo ta.”4
The door split and inched itself open. Stone scraped stone and Ngia’wi flinched backwards, covering her ears and seeking shelter behind her mother. Ngo’li reached behind her, coaxing her daughter forward.
“What’s inside is yours, Ngia’wi, and yours alone.”
Ngo’li watched as the doors reversed course and closed behind her daughter. The young hlavin girl wandered forward, her head on a swivel, as she scanned the darkening room. Knowing Ngia’wi’s fate was now with The Veil, Ngo’li turned and hardened herself. Her doubt was an invitation, but she’d no way of knowing who’d received it. Some beyond The Veil were not her kin- and meant harm.
Ngo’li kept watch while her daughter underwent testing. Her body swayed as her mind drifted back into the past once more. As a child, she’d been aware of what lies beyond The Veil. They’d all been told the same stories- the period of drifting through Fa Sa ‘Tawa, the potential consequences of not finding rest, and even the tales of what happened to those sent to the other side. However, for Ngo’li, things were different. It’s normal for one’s ancestors to commune with them where The Veil is thin, but she could commune with the dead anywhere, anytime.
When Ngo’li’s own mother told her about her position atop The Order, Ngo’li wasn’t surprised. She could remember telling Na’pa of the visits the rotaˈmomo5 would pay her in her sleep, the voices she could summon up from within, even of the sense of foreboding she’d get around certain hlavin. Her mother would gently stroke her head, reassuring her that a child’s mind is a vast, illustrative place where anything can happen.
At that moment, she felt a strong pressure, grounding her in the present. Someone, or some thing, was here with her in the now claustrophobic confines of the tunnel. The pressure in the tunnel dropped. Her skin went ice cold as the air was sucked out of the cavern. Her body tingled, her head felt light, and Ngo’li needed to reach for the wall to keep from falling.
Just then, the air before her shimmered and split. Deep purple and dark blue waves undulated in front of a growing black mass; a specter formed and stepped through the void. Eyeless and pale as each of Amashik’s moons, its jagged, razor-sharp teeth glistening in the dim light. Gnarled hands that stemmed from sinewy arms reached for Ngo’li; she jumped backwards into the stone door that, for now, kept her daughter safely trapped within. It staggered towards her on legs that resembled those of an ox; such a creature had no place walking on its hind legs. But that didn’t stop it.
“It cannot be,” Ngo’li whispered. Her voice trembled with disbelief; her heart pounded in her chest like a war drum. Yet, the overwhelming fear and doubt now creeping into her thoughts, only ignited a flicker of determination within her.
It’s all true. The thought propelled her forward.
Her own arm outstretched, Ngo’li summoned all of her energy into her palm. Had she more time, she’d have tapped into the power of her ancestors, but the creature lurched towards her earlier than she’d expected. Forced to stop, Ngo’li lost concentration as she dodged a wayward swipe. To regain her momentum, Ngo’li sent her focus to her feet and leapt into the air; gracefully avoiding the stalactites hanging from the ceiling.
This confused the misshapen thing, forcing it to turn its lumbering frame and find her before it could continue pursuit. After landing, she regained composure and shot a burst of white light that struck the thing in its chest, knocking it to its back. Having bought herself time, she began pulling from the earth, as well as those entombed here within it, and drew forth a beam of light between her hands. A glowing rod formed, and she twirled it as she advanced on the creature. Slinking away, it let out a silent, achy screech as another portal opened on the wall beside it. Before Ngo’li could reach it, it leapt through.
The tunnel sank into a moment of silence, except for Ngo’li’s labored breath- until stone rolled behind her. Not wanting to startle Ngia’wi, Ngo’li let the staff dissipate and wiped the dirt from her jerkin.
As her daughter stepped back out into the tunnel, Ngo’li tried to read her. Ngia’wi had both hands behind her back as she sifted the dirt beneath her feet with her toes. As Ngo’li approached, Ngia’wi broke into a smile. From behind her back, she pulled a large, symmetrical piece of stone. The sconces on the wall flickered in its presence. Ngo’li’s brow furrowed at this oddity, but before she could process it, Ngia’wi spoke.
“Look, Fa’ha! They said it was mine to keep. What does it do? It’s so pretty!”
Ngo’li’s voice caught in her throat; her words fought to break through.
“Ng’a Sa’di...” She took one more moment of pause, then continued.
“What else did they say, Ngia’wi?”
“Nothing...” Ngia’wi gave a simple reply as she turned over the pitiful stone; inspecting it from every angle.
Suddenly, the tunnel jolted, as if a massive creature had tried to yank it from the cave.
Without a word, Ngo’li grabbed her daughter by the wrist and ran.
The walls shook. Ngo’li summoned a soft, glowing shield to cover them from fragments of sawtooth stone that fell from above. Ngia’wi clutched her prize against her belly with her free hand; her small legs struggling to keep pace with her mother’s growing strides.
Was it glowing? Shaking herself free from the thought- the hope- Ngo’li pushed herself harder.
The air shimmered ahead as they rounded a bend in the long corridor. The darkness split and through it stepped the creature- the aberrant one- that Ngo’li had faced while waiting for Ngia’wi. Only this time, it was not alone.
To either side of the thing were two snarling four legged canines. Saliva oozed from the corners of their mouths; their nostrils flared as rhythmically as their growls bounced off the cave walls. Ngia’wi pressed her body to her mother’s. The girl was barely tall enough to reach Ngo’li’s hip.
Ngo’li stepped forward and slid her daughter behind her. As she summoned her staff, her shield above vanishing.
“Stay here.” Ngo’li said.
Ngia’wi’s mother dashed towards the ghouls.
Moving with enough speed to kick up dust, Ngo’li shifted her weight, head over foot, growing stronger with each step. The white ogre she’d bested earlier took a step back, lifting both gnarled hands above its head. Its dogs pounced.
Taken aback by this, Ngo’li changed plans. Driving her right foot into the ground, feigning a step towards one, Ngo’li bounded the opposite direction; swinging her ethereal staff right to left, she cracked the larger of the two gnolls across the face. The creature yelped and tumbled to the floor, its face burning with white light where Ngo’li’s staff had hit it.
After landing on her left foot, she jammed it into the ground. Leaping back towards the smaller and slower gnoll, with her staff above her head, she came down on its neck with a deafening thwap. A searing white light bit into the monster’s neck, cleaving off its head. The carcass hit the cavern wall with a wet and heavy thud.
As Ngo’li oriented herself, the creature had vanished, leaving only shimmering air. Spinning on her heels, she spotted Ngia’wi, still safe where she’d left her. Unfortunately, that gave her opponent a chance to appear behind her and take her unaware. Two fists, as big as Ngo’li’s head, slammed onto her back.
The ground rushed up to meet her; her face smacked the compacted earth with enough force to crack her teeth. The impact was enough to break her focus and her staff once again disappeared. She cried out in pain as she rolled away from the creature’s next strike. Ngo’li pushed herself up off the floor and staggered while finding her balance.
A series of sounds, somewhere between spoken word and screeching, emanated from the aberrant one. Rising from deep within her, a voice Ngo’li could not hear spoke to her.
“You cannot keep secrets hidden if you cannot protect The Veil.”
Ngo’li’s eye shot open as the air before her shimmered. With a single step, the aberrant one was through a portal. Ngo’li barely had time to turn her head before it emerged from another. Her daughter shrieked from the far side of the corridor.
Ngia’wi’s mother dropped to her knees as an overwhelming sense of failure consumed her. All her years of training. All the time she spent preparing, wasted.
Or so it seemed…
As the aberrant one reached for Ngia’wi, an all-encompassing, bright green light pulsated. The creature recoiled; stumbling backwards, arms flailing, the growing green light expanding to fill the entire corridor. Long, distorted, shadows danced in the green light. Ngo’li couldn’t help but to bury her face in her hands to keep from being blinded by the otherworldly glow now illuminating the cave.
A moment or two passed, and the creature’s wailing subsided- never truly stopping, it was just far enough away now that it’d become inaudible. Afraid of being blinded by the light Ngo’li, lingered while a smile crept across her face. As she lifted her head, a small hand touched her shoulder, shattering the silence with a beautiful sound.
“Fa’ha, it’s okay. The Keepers say we are safe now.” Ngia’wi’s prize, now transformed, was no longer an unremarkable stone, but a brilliant piece of jade.
Loosely translates to “Wandering Mother.” The Kavanians worship her to this day. She is known simply as “Faha” today.
Loosely translates to “the in between.” This is the place between realms when hlavin commune with their dead.
Loosely translates to “young one.”
Loosely translate to “I stand alone against those who seek to destroy. I stand in place of those who wish to remain behind the veil. I stand ready in the name of The Jade Crest as those did before me.”
Loosely translates to “ancients” or “ancestors.”