Of Fire and Fury (Book 1: Light-Born Series)

Chapter 36 - Rabid

The Reanni sacred site was not what she had expected. Unlike the Omari cave that was deep and dark, hidden from the rest of the world within a mountain, the Reanni held their sacred space in the center of their home. Rabid gazed at the familiar stone walls, where shadows flickered and danced under the torches. It was the same dark room where she had first experienced the power inside her own blood. Now, she knew, several floors above her was the great hall, filled with music and movement. Here, in the dark, no sounds drifted through the thick walls.

They stood in a circle: Rabid, Arven, Soyala, and another tall Amarin Rabid hadn’t met yet, Rydich. Arven nodded to Soyala, and she closed her eyes. The silver of her hair was a dull glow in the darkness, her pale skin almost effervescent against the firelight. The group stood in silence for a long moment, watching her. She swayed slightly, as if finding her balance on the edge of a cliff, then finally she stilled.

A sweet melody came from her lips, rising and falling in waves that grew ever louder in the darkness. She sang no words, and yet the song seemed to speak of deep things, hidden things. Of knowledge that had been lost, of power newly regained. Arven joined her after a few lonely notes, and his deep voice sang a harmony with her that seemed to weave the vibrations of their voices into a thick thread. As they sang together, the thread seemed to strike against Rabid’s skin, waking a thrumming within her. Finally, Rydich’s deep voice added a third harmony, deeper than the two before him, and it felt like something was bursting to life inside of Rabid.

A breeze started around them, though the room was closed to the outside by a thick wooden door. It pulled at Rabid’s hair and tugged at her clothes. It grew quickly into a rush of wind that surrounded them, whipping her hair around her face and blowing the torches out as though they were small candles. Rabid could barely hear the voices over the sound of the wind. Lean in to it, Arven had told her. Let it take over you. Rabid tried to, but as she took deep breaths and willed the feeling to grow, it faltered, like it was trembling, and then fell to pieces. As quickly as it had started, the feeble power dropped from her blood like a stone falling through the air. The wind died, and there was silence.

Rabid stumbled, unaware that she had been held up by the wind, as the gust sputtered out. She was breathing heavily, blinking in the pitch darkness.

“Why did you stop singing?” Rabid gasped, still trying to catch her breath.

“We stopped singing when the wind died.” Soyala said. The bright spark of a match cracked open the darkness as Arven held it up before them.

“Well, I guess it’s my fault for saying it would be simple.” he said, pressing his lips together as he stared at Rabid. “Tell me, child, what happened?”

“I don’t know. I felt something… like the same power as before.” she said as the match’s tiny flame burned out. “The wind was new, but the feeling was not, and then it just stopped.”

“Let’s try again.” Arven said from the darkness.

Their voices rose again, Soyala’s first as Arven and Rydich joined in. Each note reverberated around them and raised the trembling in Rabid’s blood. She squeezed her eyes tight, though it was no darker than the world around her, and attempted to lean into the coming power. This time, it faltered before it had even begun: no wind arose, no power flooded her veins. She simply felt the power leave the room.

“It’s stopped again.” she said, over their voices. “I can’t get it.”

A torch burst to life and Rabid saw Rydich at the wall. Arven crossed his arms, his fingers tapping against his bicep as he thought. Soyala let out an exasperated sigh as she locked eyes with Rydich, both looking doubtful.

“Well, my dear, I wish I could say I was the expert at awakening magic but…” Arven shrugged.

“How did you reawaken the healing?” Rabid asked, suddenly hopeful for a new secret to try. 

“We asked for it.” Arven said, shrugging. “Just like this. We never stopped asking, not from the moment it left us. One day when we were here, singing our prayer songs, it filled everyone in the room.”

“We don’t have centuries to wait.” Soyala cut in, the hope and excitement that had been building steadily in her was beginning to falter.

“No. But, I wonder…” Arven muttered softly to himself, then he eyed Rabid carefully. “How did you awaken the Ravener?”

“I told you, I simply touched the wall of the cave.” Rabid said, thinking back to the moment. “Actually… I felt compelled to the symbols on the wall. When I touched those, that’s when I saw Khaya.”

“Have you always felt compelled to the Omari?” Arven asked. Rabid shifted slightly at his words.

“To the Omari?” Rabid thought out loud. “No, I was… I was afraid of them, and the stories I’d heard of their bloodlust.” 

“But what about you? You have not always been a good little Napua, have you?” Arven asked. His knowing voice stirred up memories of fighting, of anger, of rage. Rabid clenched her jaw and swallowed hard, ignoring the memories as they tried to claw to the surface. The memories of being an outcast, a disappointment.

“No, I guess not. I’ve always been a fighter.” she relented. Arven sighed, nodding knowingly.

“I should have known better. Healing will not come as easily as rage has.”

“What do you mean?” Rabid asked, frustrated by her sudden inability.

“What did you feel, before the power? What happened before the cave?” he asked as though he already knew the answer. Rabid looked around hesitantly.

“I fought with the Hauks, we were attacked in the forest. Then… I got in a fight with Stone about killing a boy.” Rabid admitted. Arven gave Rabid a look then that seemed to run straight through to her soul. 

“What did you feel, while you were in the cave?” 

“Angry. Scared.” Rabid admitted, despite her embarrassment. “I was afraid I was going to be left by Stone.” 

Arven nodded, running a hand through his silver hair and sighing.

“You anger fuels your Ravener power. Your anger at being different, being given away in marriage, at your parents death and seeing Hauks again. I suspect all you have ever felt is pure, unfiltered anger. That rage inside of you awakened the monster, so to speak. But there is more to you than that, Rabid. You have to know that, believe that. You must believe that you can bring healing, or it will never come.”

“I don’t know how to do that.” Rabid said, softly, willing the pain inside of her to stay out of her voice. She knew she couldn’t do what he was asking, anger was all she felt.

“Anger, rage, hurt, none of that welcomes healing. You have to know when to forgive, to let go, to be at peace.” he said softly. “You have to want to bring good into the world, and no longer rip it apart.”

Rabid shook her head and sighed heavily. She did not believe him. There had never been more to her, and everyone saw it. Her parents, her tribesman, everyone saw her for what she was: rabid and outcast. Despite her Bonder origin, she was meant for nothing but destruction. Arven, seeming to read her thoughts and waved his hand around the room.

“Everyone leave us.” 

He sat, cross-legged on the ground, motioning for Rabid to follow. She mirrored him, and he slid forward until their knees were touching. 

“Close your eyes.” he said softly. She closed them.

“Breathe deeply.” he whispered, and she did. His voice continued, slow and methodical as she felt a heavy relaxation flowing through her body.

“Now, let your mind take you deep, deep inside yourself. Let it wander to the place that is immortal. Deeper than flesh and blood. You are safe, here, Rabid. You are safe.”

His voice began to slip further away from her. She felt herself descend, as if she was shrinking inside of her own body, until she could barely feel her body at all. Even the ground beneath her was little more than a distant pressure that held her upright.

“Let yourself see it.”

“See what?”

“Shh, child, just let whatever comes, come.” Arven said softly.

After a few moments of the black, in her minds eye she saw the flicker of a light. It grew quickly, red as the early morning sky. As it grew, she felt a boiling in her blood rising with it. It burst into life: all fury and rage and pain.

“Where did it come from?”

The light began to form an image, the flame lengthening until it had formed the body of a snake. It bobbed and weaved, raising itself up on its coiled body as if it was ready to strike. Dark spots appeared where its eyes would be, and glinted like glass as it turned to face Rabid. A sudden fear gripped her body, and she was frozen in place, barely able to breathe as she watched the dancing serpent stare her down.

“Come back, Rabid.” Arven’s voice pulled her from the vision of the snake so fast she was left gasping and blinking in the dim torchlight of the sacred room. As she breathed deep, she realized that her face was wet with tears.

“What… what was that?” she choked out, the paralyzing fear was still gripping at her body, taking its time to shrink away as she blinked in the light.

“What did you see?” he asked, leaning forward until he was just a few inches from her face.

“A snake.” she shuddered, finally managing to shake the last of the lingering fingers of fear from her body.

“Ah.” Arven said, leaning back again. “This is why you cannot heal.”

“What was it?” she said again, sharply.

“It was a ghost from your past, I believe.” he said, as if completely unphased. “A dark spirit, wanting to live on through your fear and unforgiveness.”

“Can’t you just heal me?” she asked, reaching to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

“Sadly, no. I can only heal the body. This kind of healing is in your soul. No one can allow healing there but yourself.”

Rabid took a deep, steadying breath, seeing the dark eyes and dancing body again.

“I need a break.” she said, pushing herself to her feet and forcing her laden feet to carry her through the large door and to the hallway. 

She let the door slam behind her and leaned against the knotted door frame, free of the darkness and surrounded by torches. She breathed for several long moments. I don’t need the power, she thought over and over. She kicked herself inwardly. Of course it was useless, she had known it was too good to be true. She would never awaken the power of healing, or anything else.

If Arven needed her to find peace in killing Hauks, she could do so. If he needed her to forgive an unseen army for all the pain in her life, she might be able to with time. But if he needed her to let herself free from abandoning everything her family had taught her and becoming a murderer, then he would be waiting a lifetime. She couldn’t undo this serpent of hatred inside of her, not even if she prayed every second for a century.

I don’t need it, she thought again. I have the Ravener power, that will be enough. But she knew she was lying to herself. Blood or not, she couldn’t live up to Khaya’s legacy. Rabid had already failed her.

A slight push from behind her knocked her forward as Arven stepped into the light.

“Fear not, child. We’ll try again tomorrow.”

Rabid nodded, faking a smile of confidence like she had done so many times before. They did try again the next day. And the next day, and the next.