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[columns][center][item=ghastly houndskull][/center][nextcol][color=transparent]..[/color][nextcol][color=#C1272D][font=garamond][size=7][size=4][b]the wolf beneath the world[/b][/size][/size][/font][/color]
[size=2]written by Disillusionist, special thanks to EmpressSectonia
[color=#9494A9]4,934 words[/color] / [color=#CC6F6F][b]TW: dead animals[/b][/color][/size][/columns]
[color=#352B25]The hatchling had been born with a name, hissed to him through his eggshell. [i]“Anubis,”[/i] someone whispered, in a soft, sibilant voice.
His mother, or his father? It didn’t matter, for when he hatched, there was no one else nearby. Crystalline eggshells and a nest lay around him, slowly disintegrating; in the distance, he could see the trails his siblings had left behind, each one striking out in a different direction.
And so Anubis left, too. Behind him, the remnants of the nest continued crumbling, and then in a gust of wind they were gone, glittering crystal dust becoming one with the desert sand.
The hatchling headed east, instinctively following the sun, leaving the desert behind him. But he did not get far. Days into his journey, he ran into a small group of travelers. [i]Dragons.[/i] They surrounded him with startled oaths and cries, and even in his young, unformed mind, Anubis felt a grudging respect for the way they challenged him, despite the fear and revulsion on their faces.
Although the youngling was by then larger than some of his captors, they were seasoned hunters and quickly ensnared him. They threw a net over him and dragged him into a rusty cage, and there Anubis crouched, glaring balefully through the bars.
“Good gods, what is that thing? Some sort of lionsnake?”
“No, see, its snout is different. And it’s got wings...”
“Did you see where it was heading?” spat one of the hunters. She looked at Anubis through narrowed eyes. “Back to the Sunbeam Ruins—it’s probably one of those hideous mutants from the Hewn City!”
Speculations and suppositions swirled over his head as the dragons discussed what to do with him. Anubis, however, had only one thought in his mind: escape.
When the time came to feed him, he pounced, seizing the hunter’s forelimb in vise-like jaws. Blood poured out, bright and hot, and the hunter screamed in agony, struggling to break free.
Anubis fled as the hunter crumpled to the ground. His wings were still too small to carry him, so he could only scrabble across the sand. The fallen hunter’s screams were eclipsed by the shouts of his comrades. Angry voices, followed by the crackle of vengeful spells.
The first lightning bolt caught his back leg, sending him skidding across the sand. Pain filled his world, and it was only instinct, thrumming deeper than the agony, that pushed him up and forward. And just in time: the next bolt struck the spot where he’d been a second ago. It shook the ground, knocked him off his feet. His claws scraped at empty air.
In the darkness and confusion, he hadn’t seen the ravine, and he tumbled sideways into it. Water surrounded him, cloudy with mud and blood.
The shouts of the hunters were distant now, but the pain remained, digging deep into his skin, sending daggers of agony towards his heart. It was difficult to even so much as twitch a claw. He let the waters enfold him, and right before his eyes closed, he saw the reeds on the banks, their tips glowing golden in the fading light....[/color]
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[color=#352B25][i]Once again, it was the whispering that woke him. It was not a voice this time, however.
He opened his eyes, and he struggled gingerly to his feet, looking at the misty dawn around him. His claws dug deep into the mud of the riverbank. Tall rushes, shining gold, stood in thick walls all around. They whispered again, rustling as if blown by a breeze.
But there was no wind here in this strange, twilit world. The fog all around Anubis remained a soft, unbroken gray. He turned—and jerked back, startled, as an ash-gray heron exploded from the rushes nearby. It screeched as it flapped skywards, and was quickly lost in the fog.
The rustling continued, but it was just a bit louder now. And it was coming from only one direction.
He saw the lamp first: It swung on the end of a long stick, bobbing over the reeds. Its warm, golden radiance seemed to push the mist away.
And then the stalks parted, and another dragon stood before him. A stranger, a [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/61982881]Nocturne[/url] with blotched scales and blue and gold silks. The lantern swung gently from the staff at her side.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said to him, craning her long neck forward. “What are you doing here?”
Anubis tried to answer her, but the words wouldn’t come. They seemed to get stuck in his throat. He needn’t have worried, though: The Nocturne had been examining him carefully, and now her expression changed. She tut-tutted gently when she saw his scorched leg.
“Strange things happen here, at the borders between worlds,” she said, speaking mostly to herself. She held out her free paw, and a cloudy nimbus bloomed beneath it, spreading over Anubis’ wound. He felt a gentle tingle as the nimbus sank into his skin, and as he watched, still feeling strangely detached and groggy, the skin smoothened and was soon healthy and unbroken again.
“This, it seems, is one of them. Though I can be quite certain you aren’t ready to cross, and in fact, you shouldn’t be here. Neither dragon nor beast...It’s no wonder the confusion arose. And somebody has need of you yet. Let us go, youngling.”
The Nocturne turned, her lantern creaking gently as she reached a paw back to Anubis. Something about her words was strange, and he managed to rouse himself, shake his shaggy head. “Where?” It was his first word, soft and piping—as good a first utterance as any.
“Away. Back to where you came from. Don’t waste time.” The Nocturne looked back; he caught the flash of her bright blue eyes. Her claws flexed impatiently. “Come with me if you want to live.”
Anubis stood up on four strong legs, and he followed the lantern-bearer. He heard another flutter, and when he glanced up, he saw a gray heron again, gliding above the two dragons. He couldn’t be sure if it was the same one from before.
The reeds rose up on either side of them, walls of softly rustling gold. Soon they began to thin out, growing sparser and shorter. The way ahead was mostly clear, and Anubis squinted over the Nocturne’s shoulder. More mist, but it seemed lighter—as if dawn was slowly breaking.
The earth trembled. A low moan resounded from the dimness. Anubis turned, and he flinched slightly when he saw the vast, dark form just meters away. Walking parallel to them, but in the other direction. Back towards the towering reeds.
A thunderstomp, its hide deeply cracked and scorched, as if by an intense fire. And beyond it, the dark form of a greattusk. It raised its trunk, bellowed a mournful song. And now Anubis saw more creatures, more and more of them, skittering around the behemoths’ feet or fluttering overhead. Dogs and birds and serpents, antelopes and rodents and cats. They forged towards the reeds in a steady, inexorable stream, heedless of the gore and gashes along their flanks, the bones gleaming through their skin. Fresh wounds, fatal ones, blood and burns and breakages.
“Who are they?”
“They are the dead,” the Nocturne answered simply. The gray heron, gliding overhead, let out a lonesome cry.
There was no clear moment when they left the dead behind. The world around them became a little brighter, and then Anubis heard distant birdsong. The shadows of trees loomed all around him, reaching up to a darkening sky.
“This is where you should be,” the Nocturne told him. She gave a satisfied nod; by the light of the lantern, Anubis now saw the gold bangles gleaming around her neck and tail. Everything around them stood out in sharper relief.
He inhaled[/i]—and suddenly, with a great gasp and a thud in his chest, he was sprawled on a damp riverbank, and the night air was chilling his scales. Dull ache throbbed in his leg, but when he turned to look at it, he could see no wounds, and the pain swiftly ebbed.
The lantern-bearer was gone. He saw her light receding into the trees, but even as he stood up, it disappeared completely. He growled in annoyance, shook his head again.
The opening of a cave mouth, darker even than the night, yawned some distance to his right, and he instinctively stumbled towards the shelter as his memories of the misty reeds faded away.[/color]
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[color=#352B25]The darkness beckoned to Anubis in a way he didn’t entirely understand. [i]Going down[/i] seemed to be the right choice; it soothed his instincts, kept the fear down. [i]In the darkness, no one can see you. In the darkness, no one can find...[/i]
It was easy for him to wriggle down through the crevices of the earth. Deep below the Sunbeam Ruins, he came to an extensive network of caverns. Even he, who was neither dragon nor beast, found himself briefly stunned to silence by what he found there.
The Sunbeam Ruins was an old, old place. Ancient dragons, created by the Lightweaver in the forgotten past, had raised their cities here. But as time had gone on and the land had shifted, their lairs had tumbled down into the cavernous darkness.
Anubis saw the remains of those civilizations now, broken columns and crumbling walls melding with the earth and stone. Tunnels winding through the rock showed the pathways those ancients had trodden.
All of them now long gone—and so it was here that Anubis made his home. There were other things living here, small creeping creatures and luminous plants. He gorged himself on them. And here, in the darkness, the wolf-serpent grew.
He could stretch his wings in these vast caverns, and they became strong enough to carry him in flight. But there was no need for flight here, in Anubis’ sunless world. He hunted by sound and scent; his vast talons dug out even the most cunning prey. And eventually, when he needed to move on, he dug passageways for himself, too.
He found more wonders underground: ruins, subterranean rivers, forests of luminous fungi. More blind, eyeless creatures scurrying through the dark. Rarely he found fissures that led up to the surface. He would look up them and see the faintest slit of the heavens: a brilliant, shining sky, or a night strewn with stars.
He never lingered here long. The call of the darkness was stronger.
Eventually, he began encountering dragons. Civilized explorers, armed and well-equipped, who nonetheless fell prey to the wolf beneath the world. Anubis devoured them with impunity, and left their bones and possessions behind. More dragons came, this time with weapons and sorcery; they, too, lost their lives to the monstrous wolf-serpent’s jaws.
In the wake of these repasts, Anubis always rested well. His stomach was full, the underground caverns were quiet once again. No other sound save for his deep, even breathing.
But up in the Light lands, the dragons continued conferring. Something, they decided, would have to be done.[/color]
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[color=#352B25]“On your feet, wolf, and face me.” The voice rang out of the darkness, as clear and strong as a bell.
Anubis was not surprised by it, for he’d heard the distant footsteps of an approaching dragon. He yawned—and blinked, suddenly wide awake, when he realized the [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=31450204]dragon[/url] in question was already right before him.
How had she closed the distance so fast? A low growl rumbled up from Anubis’ throat as he got to his feet. He snarled in a voice like a rockslide, “You would challenge me, little wyrm?”
The dragoness laughed cheerily. She was a dusty-gray Pearlcatcher in black and golden robes, her eyes shining through a translucent veil. A smirk played upon her lips. “Well, I’ll be honest, playing with puppies isn’t something I normally do. [i]You[/i] look like a challenge, however!” Despite the mischievous banter, there was a hard note beneath her voice. The hackles rose along Anubis’ neck as the Pearlcatcher continued, “Perhaps all my dark and dismal spelunking will be worthwhile, after all.”
Anubis roared in rage. Dust and rocks cascaded from the ceiling as the caverns trembled, and somewhere in the distance, he heard the patter of scurrying feet. Other dragons, perhaps? He could only see the Pearlcatcher, however. She stood before him, unafraid, as he rose to his full height, his wings glittering faintly in the darkness.
“Insolent pup!” he roared. Hunger be damned, but this small and arrogant creature would pay for disturbing his rest! He resolved right there and then to silence her—permanently.
He smashed one paw upon the Pearlcatcher. There was a brief glint, the faintest breeze against his claws...and she reappeared, whirling past him in a blaze of black and gold. Before he could focus on her, she seemed to wink out of existence. He [i]felt[/i] rather than saw her reappear, for then she struck a tremendous blow against his jaw. He rocked back, his head suddenly spinning.
With a fierce shake of his head, Anubis reoriented on his opponent. He roared as he burst from his lair, heedless of the columns and walls crumbling down upon him. He nearly filled the cavern, a serpentine beast with a wolf-like head, night-black above and with a pale belly below. His golden eyes burned with anger as he swung about, looking for the Pearlcatcher.
A glint, just out of the corner of his eye—he lunged, swatting with one vast paw. He felt it connect, saw the Pearlcatcher skid across the floor. She was standing again in a trice, and now she grinned, bright as a sword blade, and just as indomitable.
Always before, Anubis had been the king of his underground, sunless world. The only true predator, stalking through the long-disused caverns, trampling or devouring anything in this way. Defeat had seemed impossible, even inconceivable. The strange Pearlcatcher robbed him of that notion now.
She dove through the rifts between time, winking in and out of existence, striking Anubis with blows and bolts of magic. The caverns, once his sanctuary, confined him utterly now. There was so little room to maneuver; every way he turned forced him into confrontation with the Pearlcatcher. He labored beneath her attacks, struggling first to retaliate and then, eventually, trying only to defend himself.
A distant memory of pain filtered into his mind. His right hind leg tingled unpleasantly. Something about a brilliant sky and shimmering, bone-white dunes...
A final strike from the Pearlcatcher felled him, and he crumpled to the ground. Briefly, he expected murky water to close over his head, and he really couldn’t say why.
“Would you like to dance some more, dog?” the dragoness asked him. Anubis groaned, his eyes still defiantly open.
“End me, if you will,” he snarled. “That is...the way of things.”
The Pearlcatcher grimaced in disgust. “[i]Your[/i] way, maybe. I’ve got nicer things to do.”
Shapes moved beyond her, at the entrance to the cavern. Anubis saw them more clearly now: more dragons, some of them almost as vast as he was. All garbed in armor, brimming with power and magic.
His own strength had been drained by the earlier battle. He felt his eyelids slide shut. The last thing he heard, before unconsciousness claimed him, were the Pearlcatcher’s words—
“Now, come along, dog, and no biting. The Lightweaver has need of you.”[/color]
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[color=#352B25]When Anubis reawakened, it was not because of a voice. The world was silent, but instead, there was [i]light[/i], and he found himself briefly robbed of his speech by how brilliant and pervasive it was. He’d spent so long under the ground; he’d forgotten that it was possible for the world to be flooded with light.
It was pale gold, soothing and clear—not blinding. He could make out a floor of polished marble beneath his feet. The light seemed more intense off to his right, and he slowly ambled towards it.
He could remember the Pearlcatcher warrior, the other dragons coming out of the darkness...but there was a strange, fuzzy quality to the memories, as if they’d been nothing more than a dream. He thought about this so deeply that he nearly missed the voice, quiet and silky, that slipped into his mind—
[i]“What troubles you, my child?”[/i]
“I’m trying to remember...some things. I was under the ground. There were other dragons, a warrior.” Anubis frowned. He looked back along his body. “Did she kill me? Have I died?”
The other being, still unseen in the light, laughed gently at this. There was a sad note in that voice, however, as they said, [i]“You’ve lingered too long in the darkness. It has begun to smother your mind.”[/i]
Anubis didn’t appreciate that, and he snarled, displaying formidable teeth. “I remain whole, thank you very much!”
[i]“It gladdens me to hear that. We have need of you, my child.”[/i] And something moved in the radiance...
Or at least that was how it seemed to Anubis at first. And then his perceptions shifted sharply, and he realized [i]the radiance itself[/i] was moving. He had dwarfed the creatures he’d encountered underground. But now, for the first time ever, something else dwarfed [i]him.
“Indeed, the darkness has not extinguished you completely. You are still more dragon than beast.”[/i] The brilliant gaze of the Lightweaver pierced him, burning away the suspicion, the arrogance, which he had carried for many years. [i]“Let us put your preternatural talents to better use, Anubis. Rise now, and serve your god.”[/i][/color]
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[color=#352B25]The Pearlcatcher waited outside the temple with a cadre of her clan’s warriors. They had been charged with bringing the creature known as Anubis here; what business he had in the temple was between him and the Lightweaver.
The radiance soon faded, and as it did, the great Barghest walked out between the columns. The warriors were instantly on edge, but he approached without hostility, his furry face calm and thoughtful. The Pearlcatcher cocked her head and went to meet him.
“It went well, I take it?”
“I have been charged,” he said, his voice still distant. For many years, he’d ruled with impunity over his underground domain—and it had been snatched away from him in a brief encounter. And then he’d been confronted by something more awesome, more [i]profound[/i], than he could ever have imagined. No...those sad, forgotten caverns, the absolute control he’d exercised over them were [i]nothing[/i] next to the gods and their demands. His days of consuming and devouring others were over.
The Pearlcatcher shrugged. “It happens to the best of us—and I mean that quite literally. I am Himiko of the Sectonian Empire.” She bowed formally to him. “If you are in the service of the gods, like we are, then perhaps we can aid each other.”
“Nay,” and Anubis shook his head, “this duty is mine alone. I am to return to the darkness beneath the world...”
“Oh?” Himiko arched an eyeridge.
“...and I am to seek out those who are lost, as I was, the ones who went beyond the reach of the goddess’ light. Those who live may still be returned to the surface. But those whose bodies have fallen must be escorted [i]beyond.[/i]”
“Ah.” Himiko understood. The boundary of life and death—this was not something she could control, and her duties were elsewhere. “Maybe we’ll see each other again someday. Can you take it from here, Anubis?”
“I shall.” He seemed to have recovered from being awestruck, and he now gave her a rather stern glare. “I trust I will not see you in the darkness again.”
“Well, don’t make me come down there,” Himiko shot back with a laugh. The rest of the warriors relaxed, and Anubis snorted indulgently as he turned away.
He soon found his way back into the subterranean caverns, and he rested there for a time. He had much to think about.
Just beyond his reach, the darkness and the underground world beckoned to him. [i]The underworld.[/i] He had explored only a fraction of that mysterious land. The Lightweaver had instructed him to explore it farther and deeper than he’d ever had, and Anubis, with a hint of his old pride, decided that he was up to this task.[/color]
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[color=#352B25]Years passed. Anubis did return to the underworld, where he began carrying out the duty the Lightweaver had given him. To find the lost, and to return them to the light....
The dragons could be [i]lost[/i] in different ways. They could simply blunder too far into the earth and become unable to find their way. The relief that flooded them, once the great wolf-serpent led them back to the surface, was always palpable. Anubis would leave them there, on the doorsteps back to the light, and they would call thanks and praise down the tunnels after him. The echoes of their gratitude would remain, even after the light had gone.
Then there were those whose bodies still lived, but whose minds had already been lost. [i]Smothered by the darkness,[/i] the Lightweaver had said. Dragons who had become indistinguishable from monsters, preying just as ruthlessly upon those they encountered, including others of their own kind. Anubis had to end their depredations. Once the body was at rest, the soul within, freed at last, could move on.
And as for those whose bodies had given out already...
The [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/62490951]Spiral[/url] blinked her golden eyes. She burrowed a little deeper into the fur atop Anubis’ head, watching the walls of the tunnel scroll slowly past. The great beast was silent, and there was no other sound save for his quiet breaths and footsteps.
“I have never seen a goddess before,” the Spiral piped up at last. “What did the Lightweaver look like?”
“She was, as I said, all brilliance. Like the sun shining through clouds.”
“Oh, but the sun is so small! But it [i]is[/i] very bright.”
Anubis shook his huge head. Patiently, he explained, “It only appears small because it’s so far away. But if you stood directly before it, it would fill the world...it would [i]consume[/i] the world. If it didn’t burn you first. That’s what it means to stand before a god....”
And it was also why he had listened so keenly, and taken the Lightweaver’s words to heart, on that afternoon in the forgotten temple.
“But what did she sound like? How does a sun sound?”
“I do not know how the sun sounds. Like all the fires in the world, perhaps, now and before and yet to come....But the Lightweaver did not sound like fire. It was...” Anubis struggled to explain. He snorted in frustration. “It was like silk. Soft and bright. It soothed the mind....I cannot accurately describe it. But it was...it was not just that you wanted to hear it. You [i]had[/i] to. You could close your eyes and flee, but you’d never escape it. It would steal into your mind and heart...”
He trailed off, wondering if he was only confusing his companion further. But as she flitted down, fluttering beside one of his eyes, he saw her nodding placidly.
They rounded a corner and ahead, almost invisible against the dirt, was a dark shape—little more than a smear. Still, they locked onto it, and Anubis reached out, sifted through the mess with a careful claw. Fabric and leather crumbled at his touch, the pieces peeling away to reveal dried skin and bones.
“A lost child of the Lightweaver,” Anubis said, “far from home. This one has not been here very long—only a few decades. It should be easy enough to lead him back towards the light....”
The Barghest sucked in a deep breath—[i]and as he did, the world seemed to recede, blurring and graying as if seen through frosted glass. It rippled lazily as Anubis shifted through the weight of the years around him.
Shapes flitted past: silhouettes, shadows...memories, really. They darted into the darkness like startled fish. Anubis ignored them, and more years rippled away like a rushing stream....
Suddenly, there was a dragon before him. Completely colorless, but seemingly solid, standing right on top of the desiccated corpse.
“Did he find help? Where is my...Oh. Am I dead?” The dragon shut his eyes in dismay. “Of course I am. Dear heavens, how long has it been?”
Anubis didn’t answer—he almost never did. What he [i]did[/i], however, was wait silently and patiently. He’d become very good at silence and patience over the years. It worked wonders with his prey—and it was also necessary when dealing with the dead. They were beyond the grasp of time. They did not always process things as quickly as the living did.
This one was quicker than most, however. When next he looked up, his eyes were watery. “Too long...It’s been too long, hasn’t it? Are you some sort of demon? What are you?”
“I am Anubis.” On this colorless plane, Anubis’ jaws didn’t move, and his voice reverberated out of the air itself. “I am a hound sent by the Lightweaver to bring her children home.”
“Oh. Is...is that right?” The dead dragon’s face shone with a faint and hopeful smile. “We should like that very much. Home...I can barely remember what it looked like. But it will be nice to see it again.”
He seemed to melt back into the ground—[/i]and color and depth returned to the world. The air in the tunnel felt...lighter now. Cleaner. It was a good sign.
Anubis picked up the dragon’s skull. From a basket at his hip, he drew some stout cord, threaded it through the eyeholes. The looped cord was then fastened to his belt, where the skull joined others he had collected along the way. When he was back in the Sunbeam Ruins, the remains would be taken to a temple. There, the priests would say prayers over them, and then the dragons would be interred, at peace on hallowed ground at last.
As Anubis finished his work, he looked around. His companion tended to get bored while he was communing with the dead, and sure enough, she had disappeared again.
“Delight,” he called out, “where are you?”
“Here.” He saw a faint glimmer at the end of one tunnel, and he moved towards it. The Spiral was hovering over another small patch on the floor.
“It’s not a dragon, is it?” she said as Anubis approached. She held something up, and with a surge of exasperation, he realized it was a skeletal paw. There were still traces of flesh holding the toes together, and they flopped as Delight waved the bones around.
“No, it is not. It is some sort of beast. Perhaps a wild creature, dead of natural causes in these tunnels. Maybe a scavenger. Or...”
The new skull seemed to weigh heavily against Anubis’ hip. He recalled snatches of the dragon’s words.
[i]“Did he find help? Where is my...[/i]We[i] should like that very much...”[/i]
“Perhaps a pet of some sort. Maybe even a companion...”
“Someone is here.” With her huge eyes, Delight could see in the darkness better than he could. She turned, her neck craning forward eagerly. “Oh, how pretty!”
The tunnel was filled with light. [i]Golden[/i] light, as though from a lantern or torch. Anubis’ ears flattened. He was wary; were there still living dragons here? Could they be in for a fight?
And then he noticed how the air around them was rippling again. The same effect, as though the world were visible through rippling water. Or frosted glass, or perhaps through [i]mist...[/i]
“You can see me.” It was not a question. There was only one dragon, a lantern-bearer not much larger than Delight. Her lantern swung on the end of a long staff, which she now rested against her shoulder.
The image clicked in Anubis’ mind. “We have met before.”
“That we have. I see now why you could not proceed beyond the river. The dead have need of you here as well, don’t they? What is your name and charge?”
“I am Anubis. The Lightweaver charged me with finding lost dragons and seeing them safely home. And you, lantern-bearer? Are you here for the dead dragon, too?”
“Nay, wolf. I do not concern myself with the souls of dragons.” The Nocturne’s face softened. She moved past Anubis, reaching out with her free forepaw—and suddenly, there was a luminous shape right beside him, prancing and leaping on four soft feet. It barked in excitement, its wings and tail waving ecstatically. Delight gasped and dropped the bones.
The hainu phantom went to the Nocturne, and she patted it, murmuring gently to it all the while. She fell quiet for a moment, evidently listening to what it had to say.
Anubis realized it then: “You are a psychopomp, as I am—but you come for the souls of beasts instead.”
“That I do.” And now she smiled, brighter even than the lantern, and looked up at Anubis again. “It is a relief to meet one who understands. My name is Nekhbet, and I am known as [i]the Pale Shepherd[/i]...or, in older times, [i]the Lamplighter.[/i]”[/color]
[right][font=Copperplate Gothic Light][color=#C1272D][size=5][b]~ The End[/b][/color][/size][/font][/right]
[size=2][color=#9494A9][b]Credits:[/b] Special thanks to [i]EmpressSectonia[/i] for allowing Himiko to be included here.[/color][/size]
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the wolf beneath the world
written by Disillusionist, special thanks to EmpressSectonia
4,934 words / TW: dead animals
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The hatchling had been born with a name, hissed to him through his eggshell. “Anubis,” someone whispered, in a soft, sibilant voice.
His mother, or his father? It didn’t matter, for when he hatched, there was no one else nearby. Crystalline eggshells and a nest lay around him, slowly disintegrating; in the distance, he could see the trails his siblings had left behind, each one striking out in a different direction.
And so Anubis left, too. Behind him, the remnants of the nest continued crumbling, and then in a gust of wind they were gone, glittering crystal dust becoming one with the desert sand.
The hatchling headed east, instinctively following the sun, leaving the desert behind him. But he did not get far. Days into his journey, he ran into a small group of travelers. Dragons. They surrounded him with startled oaths and cries, and even in his young, unformed mind, Anubis felt a grudging respect for the way they challenged him, despite the fear and revulsion on their faces.
Although the youngling was by then larger than some of his captors, they were seasoned hunters and quickly ensnared him. They threw a net over him and dragged him into a rusty cage, and there Anubis crouched, glaring balefully through the bars.
“Good gods, what is that thing? Some sort of lionsnake?”
“No, see, its snout is different. And it’s got wings...”
“Did you see where it was heading?” spat one of the hunters. She looked at Anubis through narrowed eyes. “Back to the Sunbeam Ruins—it’s probably one of those hideous mutants from the Hewn City!”
Speculations and suppositions swirled over his head as the dragons discussed what to do with him. Anubis, however, had only one thought in his mind: escape.
When the time came to feed him, he pounced, seizing the hunter’s forelimb in vise-like jaws. Blood poured out, bright and hot, and the hunter screamed in agony, struggling to break free.
Anubis fled as the hunter crumpled to the ground. His wings were still too small to carry him, so he could only scrabble across the sand. The fallen hunter’s screams were eclipsed by the shouts of his comrades. Angry voices, followed by the crackle of vengeful spells.
The first lightning bolt caught his back leg, sending him skidding across the sand. Pain filled his world, and it was only instinct, thrumming deeper than the agony, that pushed him up and forward. And just in time: the next bolt struck the spot where he’d been a second ago. It shook the ground, knocked him off his feet. His claws scraped at empty air.
In the darkness and confusion, he hadn’t seen the ravine, and he tumbled sideways into it. Water surrounded him, cloudy with mud and blood.
The shouts of the hunters were distant now, but the pain remained, digging deep into his skin, sending daggers of agony towards his heart. It was difficult to even so much as twitch a claw. He let the waters enfold him, and right before his eyes closed, he saw the reeds on the banks, their tips glowing golden in the fading light....
Once again, it was the whispering that woke him. It was not a voice this time, however.
He opened his eyes, and he struggled gingerly to his feet, looking at the misty dawn around him. His claws dug deep into the mud of the riverbank. Tall rushes, shining gold, stood in thick walls all around. They whispered again, rustling as if blown by a breeze.
But there was no wind here in this strange, twilit world. The fog all around Anubis remained a soft, unbroken gray. He turned—and jerked back, startled, as an ash-gray heron exploded from the rushes nearby. It screeched as it flapped skywards, and was quickly lost in the fog.
The rustling continued, but it was just a bit louder now. And it was coming from only one direction.
He saw the lamp first: It swung on the end of a long stick, bobbing over the reeds. Its warm, golden radiance seemed to push the mist away.
And then the stalks parted, and another dragon stood before him. A stranger, a Nocturne with blotched scales and blue and gold silks. The lantern swung gently from the staff at her side.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said to him, craning her long neck forward. “What are you doing here?”
Anubis tried to answer her, but the words wouldn’t come. They seemed to get stuck in his throat. He needn’t have worried, though: The Nocturne had been examining him carefully, and now her expression changed. She tut-tutted gently when she saw his scorched leg.
“Strange things happen here, at the borders between worlds,” she said, speaking mostly to herself. She held out her free paw, and a cloudy nimbus bloomed beneath it, spreading over Anubis’ wound. He felt a gentle tingle as the nimbus sank into his skin, and as he watched, still feeling strangely detached and groggy, the skin smoothened and was soon healthy and unbroken again.
“This, it seems, is one of them. Though I can be quite certain you aren’t ready to cross, and in fact, you shouldn’t be here. Neither dragon nor beast...It’s no wonder the confusion arose. And somebody has need of you yet. Let us go, youngling.”
The Nocturne turned, her lantern creaking gently as she reached a paw back to Anubis. Something about her words was strange, and he managed to rouse himself, shake his shaggy head. “Where?” It was his first word, soft and piping—as good a first utterance as any.
“Away. Back to where you came from. Don’t waste time.” The Nocturne looked back; he caught the flash of her bright blue eyes. Her claws flexed impatiently. “Come with me if you want to live.”
Anubis stood up on four strong legs, and he followed the lantern-bearer. He heard another flutter, and when he glanced up, he saw a gray heron again, gliding above the two dragons. He couldn’t be sure if it was the same one from before.
The reeds rose up on either side of them, walls of softly rustling gold. Soon they began to thin out, growing sparser and shorter. The way ahead was mostly clear, and Anubis squinted over the Nocturne’s shoulder. More mist, but it seemed lighter—as if dawn was slowly breaking.
The earth trembled. A low moan resounded from the dimness. Anubis turned, and he flinched slightly when he saw the vast, dark form just meters away. Walking parallel to them, but in the other direction. Back towards the towering reeds.
A thunderstomp, its hide deeply cracked and scorched, as if by an intense fire. And beyond it, the dark form of a greattusk. It raised its trunk, bellowed a mournful song. And now Anubis saw more creatures, more and more of them, skittering around the behemoths’ feet or fluttering overhead. Dogs and birds and serpents, antelopes and rodents and cats. They forged towards the reeds in a steady, inexorable stream, heedless of the gore and gashes along their flanks, the bones gleaming through their skin. Fresh wounds, fatal ones, blood and burns and breakages.
“Who are they?”
“They are the dead,” the Nocturne answered simply. The gray heron, gliding overhead, let out a lonesome cry.
There was no clear moment when they left the dead behind. The world around them became a little brighter, and then Anubis heard distant birdsong. The shadows of trees loomed all around him, reaching up to a darkening sky.
“This is where you should be,” the Nocturne told him. She gave a satisfied nod; by the light of the lantern, Anubis now saw the gold bangles gleaming around her neck and tail. Everything around them stood out in sharper relief.
He inhaled—and suddenly, with a great gasp and a thud in his chest, he was sprawled on a damp riverbank, and the night air was chilling his scales. Dull ache throbbed in his leg, but when he turned to look at it, he could see no wounds, and the pain swiftly ebbed.
The lantern-bearer was gone. He saw her light receding into the trees, but even as he stood up, it disappeared completely. He growled in annoyance, shook his head again.
The opening of a cave mouth, darker even than the night, yawned some distance to his right, and he instinctively stumbled towards the shelter as his memories of the misty reeds faded away.
The darkness beckoned to Anubis in a way he didn’t entirely understand. Going down seemed to be the right choice; it soothed his instincts, kept the fear down. In the darkness, no one can see you. In the darkness, no one can find...
It was easy for him to wriggle down through the crevices of the earth. Deep below the Sunbeam Ruins, he came to an extensive network of caverns. Even he, who was neither dragon nor beast, found himself briefly stunned to silence by what he found there.
The Sunbeam Ruins was an old, old place. Ancient dragons, created by the Lightweaver in the forgotten past, had raised their cities here. But as time had gone on and the land had shifted, their lairs had tumbled down into the cavernous darkness.
Anubis saw the remains of those civilizations now, broken columns and crumbling walls melding with the earth and stone. Tunnels winding through the rock showed the pathways those ancients had trodden.
All of them now long gone—and so it was here that Anubis made his home. There were other things living here, small creeping creatures and luminous plants. He gorged himself on them. And here, in the darkness, the wolf-serpent grew.
He could stretch his wings in these vast caverns, and they became strong enough to carry him in flight. But there was no need for flight here, in Anubis’ sunless world. He hunted by sound and scent; his vast talons dug out even the most cunning prey. And eventually, when he needed to move on, he dug passageways for himself, too.
He found more wonders underground: ruins, subterranean rivers, forests of luminous fungi. More blind, eyeless creatures scurrying through the dark. Rarely he found fissures that led up to the surface. He would look up them and see the faintest slit of the heavens: a brilliant, shining sky, or a night strewn with stars.
He never lingered here long. The call of the darkness was stronger.
Eventually, he began encountering dragons. Civilized explorers, armed and well-equipped, who nonetheless fell prey to the wolf beneath the world. Anubis devoured them with impunity, and left their bones and possessions behind. More dragons came, this time with weapons and sorcery; they, too, lost their lives to the monstrous wolf-serpent’s jaws.
In the wake of these repasts, Anubis always rested well. His stomach was full, the underground caverns were quiet once again. No other sound save for his deep, even breathing.
But up in the Light lands, the dragons continued conferring. Something, they decided, would have to be done.
“On your feet, wolf, and face me.” The voice rang out of the darkness, as clear and strong as a bell.
Anubis was not surprised by it, for he’d heard the distant footsteps of an approaching dragon. He yawned—and blinked, suddenly wide awake, when he realized the dragon in question was already right before him.
How had she closed the distance so fast? A low growl rumbled up from Anubis’ throat as he got to his feet. He snarled in a voice like a rockslide, “You would challenge me, little wyrm?”
The dragoness laughed cheerily. She was a dusty-gray Pearlcatcher in black and golden robes, her eyes shining through a translucent veil. A smirk played upon her lips. “Well, I’ll be honest, playing with puppies isn’t something I normally do. You look like a challenge, however!” Despite the mischievous banter, there was a hard note beneath her voice. The hackles rose along Anubis’ neck as the Pearlcatcher continued, “Perhaps all my dark and dismal spelunking will be worthwhile, after all.”
Anubis roared in rage. Dust and rocks cascaded from the ceiling as the caverns trembled, and somewhere in the distance, he heard the patter of scurrying feet. Other dragons, perhaps? He could only see the Pearlcatcher, however. She stood before him, unafraid, as he rose to his full height, his wings glittering faintly in the darkness.
“Insolent pup!” he roared. Hunger be damned, but this small and arrogant creature would pay for disturbing his rest! He resolved right there and then to silence her—permanently.
He smashed one paw upon the Pearlcatcher. There was a brief glint, the faintest breeze against his claws...and she reappeared, whirling past him in a blaze of black and gold. Before he could focus on her, she seemed to wink out of existence. He felt rather than saw her reappear, for then she struck a tremendous blow against his jaw. He rocked back, his head suddenly spinning.
With a fierce shake of his head, Anubis reoriented on his opponent. He roared as he burst from his lair, heedless of the columns and walls crumbling down upon him. He nearly filled the cavern, a serpentine beast with a wolf-like head, night-black above and with a pale belly below. His golden eyes burned with anger as he swung about, looking for the Pearlcatcher.
A glint, just out of the corner of his eye—he lunged, swatting with one vast paw. He felt it connect, saw the Pearlcatcher skid across the floor. She was standing again in a trice, and now she grinned, bright as a sword blade, and just as indomitable.
Always before, Anubis had been the king of his underground, sunless world. The only true predator, stalking through the long-disused caverns, trampling or devouring anything in this way. Defeat had seemed impossible, even inconceivable. The strange Pearlcatcher robbed him of that notion now.
She dove through the rifts between time, winking in and out of existence, striking Anubis with blows and bolts of magic. The caverns, once his sanctuary, confined him utterly now. There was so little room to maneuver; every way he turned forced him into confrontation with the Pearlcatcher. He labored beneath her attacks, struggling first to retaliate and then, eventually, trying only to defend himself.
A distant memory of pain filtered into his mind. His right hind leg tingled unpleasantly. Something about a brilliant sky and shimmering, bone-white dunes...
A final strike from the Pearlcatcher felled him, and he crumpled to the ground. Briefly, he expected murky water to close over his head, and he really couldn’t say why.
“Would you like to dance some more, dog?” the dragoness asked him. Anubis groaned, his eyes still defiantly open.
“End me, if you will,” he snarled. “That is...the way of things.”
The Pearlcatcher grimaced in disgust. “Your way, maybe. I’ve got nicer things to do.”
Shapes moved beyond her, at the entrance to the cavern. Anubis saw them more clearly now: more dragons, some of them almost as vast as he was. All garbed in armor, brimming with power and magic.
His own strength had been drained by the earlier battle. He felt his eyelids slide shut. The last thing he heard, before unconsciousness claimed him, were the Pearlcatcher’s words—
“Now, come along, dog, and no biting. The Lightweaver has need of you.”
When Anubis reawakened, it was not because of a voice. The world was silent, but instead, there was light, and he found himself briefly robbed of his speech by how brilliant and pervasive it was. He’d spent so long under the ground; he’d forgotten that it was possible for the world to be flooded with light.
It was pale gold, soothing and clear—not blinding. He could make out a floor of polished marble beneath his feet. The light seemed more intense off to his right, and he slowly ambled towards it.
He could remember the Pearlcatcher warrior, the other dragons coming out of the darkness...but there was a strange, fuzzy quality to the memories, as if they’d been nothing more than a dream. He thought about this so deeply that he nearly missed the voice, quiet and silky, that slipped into his mind—
“What troubles you, my child?”
“I’m trying to remember...some things. I was under the ground. There were other dragons, a warrior.” Anubis frowned. He looked back along his body. “Did she kill me? Have I died?”
The other being, still unseen in the light, laughed gently at this. There was a sad note in that voice, however, as they said, “You’ve lingered too long in the darkness. It has begun to smother your mind.”
Anubis didn’t appreciate that, and he snarled, displaying formidable teeth. “I remain whole, thank you very much!”
“It gladdens me to hear that. We have need of you, my child.” And something moved in the radiance...
Or at least that was how it seemed to Anubis at first. And then his perceptions shifted sharply, and he realized the radiance itself was moving. He had dwarfed the creatures he’d encountered underground. But now, for the first time ever, something else dwarfed him.
“Indeed, the darkness has not extinguished you completely. You are still more dragon than beast.” The brilliant gaze of the Lightweaver pierced him, burning away the suspicion, the arrogance, which he had carried for many years. “Let us put your preternatural talents to better use, Anubis. Rise now, and serve your god.”
The Pearlcatcher waited outside the temple with a cadre of her clan’s warriors. They had been charged with bringing the creature known as Anubis here; what business he had in the temple was between him and the Lightweaver.
The radiance soon faded, and as it did, the great Barghest walked out between the columns. The warriors were instantly on edge, but he approached without hostility, his furry face calm and thoughtful. The Pearlcatcher cocked her head and went to meet him.
“It went well, I take it?”
“I have been charged,” he said, his voice still distant. For many years, he’d ruled with impunity over his underground domain—and it had been snatched away from him in a brief encounter. And then he’d been confronted by something more awesome, more profound, than he could ever have imagined. No...those sad, forgotten caverns, the absolute control he’d exercised over them were nothing next to the gods and their demands. His days of consuming and devouring others were over.
The Pearlcatcher shrugged. “It happens to the best of us—and I mean that quite literally. I am Himiko of the Sectonian Empire.” She bowed formally to him. “If you are in the service of the gods, like we are, then perhaps we can aid each other.”
“Nay,” and Anubis shook his head, “this duty is mine alone. I am to return to the darkness beneath the world...”
“Oh?” Himiko arched an eyeridge.
“...and I am to seek out those who are lost, as I was, the ones who went beyond the reach of the goddess’ light. Those who live may still be returned to the surface. But those whose bodies have fallen must be escorted beyond.”
“Ah.” Himiko understood. The boundary of life and death—this was not something she could control, and her duties were elsewhere. “Maybe we’ll see each other again someday. Can you take it from here, Anubis?”
“I shall.” He seemed to have recovered from being awestruck, and he now gave her a rather stern glare. “I trust I will not see you in the darkness again.”
“Well, don’t make me come down there,” Himiko shot back with a laugh. The rest of the warriors relaxed, and Anubis snorted indulgently as he turned away.
He soon found his way back into the subterranean caverns, and he rested there for a time. He had much to think about.
Just beyond his reach, the darkness and the underground world beckoned to him. The underworld. He had explored only a fraction of that mysterious land. The Lightweaver had instructed him to explore it farther and deeper than he’d ever had, and Anubis, with a hint of his old pride, decided that he was up to this task.
Years passed. Anubis did return to the underworld, where he began carrying out the duty the Lightweaver had given him. To find the lost, and to return them to the light....
The dragons could be lost in different ways. They could simply blunder too far into the earth and become unable to find their way. The relief that flooded them, once the great wolf-serpent led them back to the surface, was always palpable. Anubis would leave them there, on the doorsteps back to the light, and they would call thanks and praise down the tunnels after him. The echoes of their gratitude would remain, even after the light had gone.
Then there were those whose bodies still lived, but whose minds had already been lost. Smothered by the darkness, the Lightweaver had said. Dragons who had become indistinguishable from monsters, preying just as ruthlessly upon those they encountered, including others of their own kind. Anubis had to end their depredations. Once the body was at rest, the soul within, freed at last, could move on.
And as for those whose bodies had given out already...
The Spiral blinked her golden eyes. She burrowed a little deeper into the fur atop Anubis’ head, watching the walls of the tunnel scroll slowly past. The great beast was silent, and there was no other sound save for his quiet breaths and footsteps.
“I have never seen a goddess before,” the Spiral piped up at last. “What did the Lightweaver look like?”
“She was, as I said, all brilliance. Like the sun shining through clouds.”
“Oh, but the sun is so small! But it is very bright.”
Anubis shook his huge head. Patiently, he explained, “It only appears small because it’s so far away. But if you stood directly before it, it would fill the world...it would consume the world. If it didn’t burn you first. That’s what it means to stand before a god....”
And it was also why he had listened so keenly, and taken the Lightweaver’s words to heart, on that afternoon in the forgotten temple.
“But what did she sound like? How does a sun sound?”
“I do not know how the sun sounds. Like all the fires in the world, perhaps, now and before and yet to come....But the Lightweaver did not sound like fire. It was...” Anubis struggled to explain. He snorted in frustration. “It was like silk. Soft and bright. It soothed the mind....I cannot accurately describe it. But it was...it was not just that you wanted to hear it. You had to. You could close your eyes and flee, but you’d never escape it. It would steal into your mind and heart...”
He trailed off, wondering if he was only confusing his companion further. But as she flitted down, fluttering beside one of his eyes, he saw her nodding placidly.
They rounded a corner and ahead, almost invisible against the dirt, was a dark shape—little more than a smear. Still, they locked onto it, and Anubis reached out, sifted through the mess with a careful claw. Fabric and leather crumbled at his touch, the pieces peeling away to reveal dried skin and bones.
“A lost child of the Lightweaver,” Anubis said, “far from home. This one has not been here very long—only a few decades. It should be easy enough to lead him back towards the light....”
The Barghest sucked in a deep breath—and as he did, the world seemed to recede, blurring and graying as if seen through frosted glass. It rippled lazily as Anubis shifted through the weight of the years around him.
Shapes flitted past: silhouettes, shadows...memories, really. They darted into the darkness like startled fish. Anubis ignored them, and more years rippled away like a rushing stream....
Suddenly, there was a dragon before him. Completely colorless, but seemingly solid, standing right on top of the desiccated corpse.
“Did he find help? Where is my...Oh. Am I dead?” The dragon shut his eyes in dismay. “Of course I am. Dear heavens, how long has it been?”
Anubis didn’t answer—he almost never did. What he did, however, was wait silently and patiently. He’d become very good at silence and patience over the years. It worked wonders with his prey—and it was also necessary when dealing with the dead. They were beyond the grasp of time. They did not always process things as quickly as the living did.
This one was quicker than most, however. When next he looked up, his eyes were watery. “Too long...It’s been too long, hasn’t it? Are you some sort of demon? What are you?”
“I am Anubis.” On this colorless plane, Anubis’ jaws didn’t move, and his voice reverberated out of the air itself. “I am a hound sent by the Lightweaver to bring her children home.”
“Oh. Is...is that right?” The dead dragon’s face shone with a faint and hopeful smile. “We should like that very much. Home...I can barely remember what it looked like. But it will be nice to see it again.”
He seemed to melt back into the ground—and color and depth returned to the world. The air in the tunnel felt...lighter now. Cleaner. It was a good sign.
Anubis picked up the dragon’s skull. From a basket at his hip, he drew some stout cord, threaded it through the eyeholes. The looped cord was then fastened to his belt, where the skull joined others he had collected along the way. When he was back in the Sunbeam Ruins, the remains would be taken to a temple. There, the priests would say prayers over them, and then the dragons would be interred, at peace on hallowed ground at last.
As Anubis finished his work, he looked around. His companion tended to get bored while he was communing with the dead, and sure enough, she had disappeared again.
“Delight,” he called out, “where are you?”
“Here.” He saw a faint glimmer at the end of one tunnel, and he moved towards it. The Spiral was hovering over another small patch on the floor.
“It’s not a dragon, is it?” she said as Anubis approached. She held something up, and with a surge of exasperation, he realized it was a skeletal paw. There were still traces of flesh holding the toes together, and they flopped as Delight waved the bones around.
“No, it is not. It is some sort of beast. Perhaps a wild creature, dead of natural causes in these tunnels. Maybe a scavenger. Or...”
The new skull seemed to weigh heavily against Anubis’ hip. He recalled snatches of the dragon’s words.
“Did he find help? Where is my...We should like that very much...”
“Perhaps a pet of some sort. Maybe even a companion...”
“Someone is here.” With her huge eyes, Delight could see in the darkness better than he could. She turned, her neck craning forward eagerly. “Oh, how pretty!”
The tunnel was filled with light. Golden light, as though from a lantern or torch. Anubis’ ears flattened. He was wary; were there still living dragons here? Could they be in for a fight?
And then he noticed how the air around them was rippling again. The same effect, as though the world were visible through rippling water. Or frosted glass, or perhaps through mist...
“You can see me.” It was not a question. There was only one dragon, a lantern-bearer not much larger than Delight. Her lantern swung on the end of a long staff, which she now rested against her shoulder.
The image clicked in Anubis’ mind. “We have met before.”
“That we have. I see now why you could not proceed beyond the river. The dead have need of you here as well, don’t they? What is your name and charge?”
“I am Anubis. The Lightweaver charged me with finding lost dragons and seeing them safely home. And you, lantern-bearer? Are you here for the dead dragon, too?”
“Nay, wolf. I do not concern myself with the souls of dragons.” The Nocturne’s face softened. She moved past Anubis, reaching out with her free forepaw—and suddenly, there was a luminous shape right beside him, prancing and leaping on four soft feet. It barked in excitement, its wings and tail waving ecstatically. Delight gasped and dropped the bones.
The hainu phantom went to the Nocturne, and she patted it, murmuring gently to it all the while. She fell quiet for a moment, evidently listening to what it had to say.
Anubis realized it then: “You are a psychopomp, as I am—but you come for the souls of beasts instead.”
“That I do.” And now she smiled, brighter even than the lantern, and looked up at Anubis again. “It is a relief to meet one who understands. My name is Nekhbet, and I am known as the Pale Shepherd...or, in older times, the Lamplighter.”
~ The End
Credits: Special thanks to EmpressSectonia for allowing Himiko to be included here.
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