Of Mortals and Gods; we do not speak

Once upon a time there was a woman living far from her home. In this unfamiliar place, which had only begun to accept her as fact and not fiction, she came across a god.She did not know he was a god, for they are wont to hide themselves from their mortal playmates, and so was glad in the small kindnesses which come from newly formed friendships.

In time, the god became close to the woman so as to know her intimately. She was not beautiful, though inside her the god saw light, and in that was beauty. Her name was Aama, which meant 'the long lost' in her native tongue. The god also found this right, and so he welcomed the young woman into his confidence in all matters but his godhood

She, in turn, gave him her confidences in all matters but one. The god pried and pushed against the wall of her knowledge to obtain her all, but found himself denied. He called himself Jnal, 'cold of eye' in Aama's native tongue, and she often commented that his was a contradictory name. As the days became longer, Aama began to see his name in his eyes, as the god was increasingly tired and forbearing in the presence of her continued resistance.

Gods, it can be said, have never been accustomed or welcome to being denied their pleasures. Jnal saw in Aama a soft light that radiated into her eyes and her smiles, and he wanted to keep her for his own. In the foreign city, there were all kinds of secrets and delights for the many gods to revel in, for it was a very large city. Jnal spent his spare time spying on the young and the old, learning the language of mortal experience. When he turned his eyes to Aama, he was disappointed to know she kept no little secrets, nothing she did was furtive or shadowed.

It came time, Jnal decided, to take her fully as his own, even without the little confidence he knew she kept from him. "Aama" he cried "Aama, you are my light and I cannot do but take you in my arms."

Aama was unmoved, but for surprise and sadness. "I have a love already, Jnal" she shook her head. Jnal was stunned, for her had watched and been with her for months and no mention or sight of any man had come to him.

He became enraged by this lie, and his smooth caramel body swelled to twice its size. His mouth opened and with a great crash, the language of gods fell down upon Aama's ears and she was pushed to the ground, weeping. She could understand nothing but the infinite groan of air inside her own skull, and the knowledge of her own heartache.

Jnal paused in his angry citations and saw his Aama prostrated by his feet, and his fury abated. "Aama, my light, I know you love me as I do you. I know you now fear me as any mortal does a god. But I am not unforgiving, and I am not unjust. I can make you as I am, and we can be together."

The cold winds died between Aama's ears, though she wailed still as though the sea itself was contained in her lungs. The roar of her pain touched Jnal and he laid his hand on her head, Aama's great pain lessening. She looked up at the terrifying sight of her godfriend and felt the salt on her cheeks, sadness in the every line of her actions. "I have a love already, my friend, my god. I am loved and love in return. I could not accept you."

Jnal's rage was again summoned, and his cries slithered into the ears of his siblings. They came to his call and clattered their own confusion. Aama lay trembling by the garden wall, lips dry and cracking from the constant whisper of her pain. The gods did not see her until Jnal pointed and then their words were turned to Aama and she was rocked into the great expanse of the god's eyes. The time of the world shuddered and stopped in the maw of the great beings, and Aama curled into herself to stop the knowing of her own end.

Tka, the Great One spoke to Aama, but she understood nothing but that his eyes held the universe and more, and that was beyond fear and love. Tka placed his hand upon her shoulder, being as gentle as he could conceive and watched as her eyes focused and unfocused on him. He spoke to her in the god's language and she stared beyond him into the beginning of the world and was unaware that the sea was again leaking from her body in weeping.

Tka's sister, Enlightened Mother, pressed her lips to Aama's forehead suddenly, and the roar of sound became voices and words, and Aama was renamed in that moment. Aama became Loen, the Listener, for she could hear and understand the god's language and all others as though they were her own.

'Loen' the Enlightened Mother's voice was a chime inside her mind, though the mouth before her did not move, it did smile. Aama knew her new name but could not think to speak before these, the Great Gods, whose presence was fearsome and awesome all at once. 'Loen, my brother has found you as one with his heart. We cannot council our brother beyond what he believes, and so we council you.' Behind the smooth, pale palm which held her chin, Aama could see the quiet forms of the Great Gods in conversation. She didn't know the names for them all, but recognised their shapes.

    'Loen', Tka's mouth moved and his body coiled along the infinite space. 'Our brother thinks you lie.' Tka watched Aama, and she watched as his scales shifted and changed their colours, building his body against itself until he was in mortal form. In this form he was harsh and raw, skin changing with each step he took toward her. He smiled and it was a slash of skin against skin, and this he pressed to her own lips. Her voice shuddered out from her, bolting from her throat, skittish and hoarse - "I have no lies in me to speak."

The godchatter enveloped her again, and she could hear Jnal crying over and over, demanding that she love him. Aama felt her heart breaking, to know she caused so much pain to the godfriend. Even here, where they lived and moved away from the bustle of their mortal underlings, Jnal looked as he had when they met. He was not beautiful in convention and she explored him for enticements for her heart. His cold eyes were turned from her, but she knew them to be grey and strong like noontime clouds, blocking out the sun. Aama thought of his hands that touched her face when he brushed hair from her eyes. They were large and the backs a darker caramel than the palm, which was a soft cream and they were strong as he moved logs and branches when they walked.

Aama's thoughts had moved her away from the chatter and now she became aware of their silence, of those old, old eyes watching her. The decision had been made by these strangeling creatures and she felt the weight of their choice leaning on her shoulders. Jnal looked neither happy or not, but cross and snorting his breath into his hair.

'Loen' Enlightened Mother was gentle, though Aama felt her apprehension in the tight muscles of her neck. 'Loen, we are giving you time.'

'Time, Mother?'

Jnal snarled from his twisted position, still cornered from her gaze 'Time for your love to find you.' Tka cuffed his brother with a long tail and Aama watched his scales ripple backward into his smile.

'Time for your truth to be revealed.' Aama was opening her mouth to respond when Jnal hissed again 'Five years, and then you will know your love for me.'

They gave her no time then, but shifted in the starry light, making her body heavy and thick. As Aama fell to the earth, she could see their godforms trailing away from one another, splitting like a great rock, with Tka and the Enlightened Mother at the root. They watched her as she fell, and then it was darkness.

When Aama woke, all of her limbs were still asleep and tingled unpleasantly. As she tried to move, her body forgot all of her commands and she was stuck on her back in her bed, the cool sheets twisted around her ankle and arm. The dream was so real she could still taste the horror of falling, the way her heart dropped even further than her body, sinking into the earth before she met it.

Aama closed her eyes to the light of morning and thought back on the dream, which was rich inside her mind. There stood Jnal, Tka and the Enlightened Mother, all looking so odd but similar in their mortal forms. It thrilled her to see Tka's body shudder and shift with rainbow scales, and how the Enlightened Mother was pearly white as though she had lived inside a shell all her life, reflecting on herself.

It was the vision of Jnal that worried Aama most of all. He had been a good friend in the year they had known one another and the lingering feeling of distress settled on her chest. Of course, she reasoned, it had been a dream and no man would fault her for laughing at herself even a little, for the gods would have no interest in this lonely foreign woman. Her limbs quietly woke up, stinging her body all over as they remembered how to move and bend.

Aama's servants brought her breakfast and prepared her clothing for the day and she mused at them, watching as they wandered back and forth from the many rooms. They were native to Turriling, and spoke in their own tongue, always excluding Aama from their chatter. Except today they were speaking in low Luong and Aama understood every word of her own native tongue. It was unusual but Aama didn't press the matter, not wanting to scare off this new kindness.

As she went about her day, she noticed more and more Luong speakers around her and was stunned. Perhaps, she thought, the dream had awakened her sense of her surroundings, letting in more of those who she could understand.

 It wasn't until Jnal appeared in the little garden behind her house that Aama began to understand. His body was rigid and he seemed even taller than before, the leaves of the orange trees brushing his hair. She smiled as she walked into the garden and to her friend, trying to ease the roiling swell in her stomach as he frowned back at her.

 "Well?" He demanded as soon as she was close enough to speak with.

Aama frowned back at him, "Pardon, Jnal? Won't you sit? What's wrong?"

Jnal growled and thrust his body to the side, storming around the garden in three swift circuits. Aama watched in surprise, deciding to slip onto the cement seat while he was distracted. When Jnal returned she was composed and contemplating a purple bloom.

"You think it is so easy? You think I don't know your lies?" Aama's heart sank in a sway, dipping through her stomach and into her toes.  Her dream was no longer a dream and the vivid colours of the gods and their mortal, immortal forms wavered before her eyes.

"It happened?" She whispered, biting her lip in sadness and fear.

Jnal took a small pity on her and sat by her, toying with a strand of her chestnut hair. "Did you know you have red in your hair?" Aama started at his tone "No one in Turrling has red in their hair like you, do you like it?" Aama stared at him and shook her head, because she had never known there was any colour but brown and he smiled indulgently, turning the strand to show her, but she couldn’t see.

“You are very special,  Aama, and I love you.” He didn’t look at her, but rubbed the hair between his finger and thumb. “I know you love me also, but these five years will pass quickly.”

Aama touched her bloody lip, torn from her incessant nibbling, and sighed. “You know my heart belongs to another, Jnal. I cannot say I love you when he is in my mind.” Jnal seethed, dropping her hair and surging off the seat.

“You do not understand even your own heart. You are a child, like all mortals.” He threw his arms wide in disgust and stomped the length of the garden, grumbling to himself. When he returned he was more subdued, “What is his name?”

Aama didn’t pretend ignorance but shied from the question, looking away from Jnal and into the sky between the trees. Jnal waited with a surprising patience and she wore down, tired from the bad sleep and the heavy understanding of her new problems.  “His name is Pyut.”

“Where is he, then? I have been with you for months, I have never seen him!” The plea was new and hurt Aama to hear Jnal’s raw hope.

“He is commanding an army, a hundred years away. I was sent away so he might fight without fear of my safety.” She fell silent and closed her eyes and leant against the tree at her back. When Jnal didn’t comment, she looked up at him, only to find herself alone in the quiet garden, not knowing when he had left.

Jnal took it upon himself to see his woman’s lover, who had left her alone and sad so far away. He flitted into the sphere of the gods, which encompassed this and all other earths. There he moved like the sand in the desert, his mortal body disappearing into the shapeless mass skimming along the globe. When he reached the site of a great battle, he stopped and peered into the depths of men camped before a wide trench. Here he found Pyut Al Maddar, the High Commander.

Pyut was ensconced with five other men around a small wooden table, at intervals the men jabbed their short knives at points on a rolled out map. They argued and Jnal let the sound wash over him as he trickled into mortal form behind their tent. The men were weary and dirty; Pyut himself had several new scars marring his long, straight nose and was covered in red dust. Jnal could see what Aama liked in this man; he held himself well and his men listened intently to what he said. Though, he reasoned, that was no indication of love, there was nothing about this man to love. Jnal watched as the men reached an accord and packed themselves away, leaving Pyut to his own devices. While the others went to find food, drink or their bed, Pyut studied his documents for a further time, and then retired to his bunk. By his bunk was a single, well varnished box , which he opened now on his chest. Inside Jnal noted the letters, the picture of Aama stuck to the lid and the blue, satin ribbon that Pyut took out. Putting the rest of the box away, Pyut then wrapped the ribbon around his two main fingers and said a prayer to the Enlightened Mother to keep his Aama safe. Jnal watched as Pyut fell into an uneasy sleep, frowning at the young man. 

Here Jnal could see the reasoning in love, for this man clearly loved his Aama, however fervent it might be, it was there. While a commander couldn’t possibly meet with a god, certainly not one of the Great Gods Jnal was, love could surpass all odds. Fear grew in Jnal’s heart, for knowing the mortal capacity for unexpected acts, he was sure that if Pyut and Aama were reunited, he would be left by the wayside, god or no. This, of course, would not do.

He could not speak with his siblings about the problem, as they had already decreed their choice in the matter; they were to wait for this man to return to his beloved. They had not spoken of the actions any of them could take to help or hinder, or the consequences of such interference. Jnal thought, then, that he had an opportunity to ensure this entire mortal frustration went his way. He trickled back into the god sphere and slithered to watch over his Aama, stretching his awareness to coax one of his brothers from hiding.