The visions faded into darkness as Ingor closed her eyes and allowed herself to be carried by the water to its surface. She floated there for what felt like hours, watching the bright stars twinkle in the dark night sky, before finally swimming to the edge and climbing out. She shuddered at the cool breeze as it blew softly, steadily through the valley, ruffling the grass as the leaves and flowers swayed in its passing, and Ingor watched with equanimity as she took in the beautiful scene. The valley was quiet, though she didn't need to hear the screams of the dying beyond the grass carpet for her to know they were there. She herself had been there not too long ago. Now, in this haven, this tranquility in the midst of all the turmoil, for the first time she felt something she hadn't in a long time. She felt hope.
"Evening milady," a voice from behind made her jump, "you look like you could do with a warm fire and some food."
"Err.." her brain fumbled for the words to say as she tried to compose herself, hurriedly looking up at the young man standing before her, settling her gaze on his golden brown eyes, "you can see me?"
"Yes," he chuckled, "it's more of a surprise that you can see me."
"Huh?" Confused, Ingor looked around for Rohi.
"Your kind," he said, "humans, that is, don't always see us. We usually have to guide by urging your senses, but never have I personally ever had the honour of speaking face to face with one of you. He will be back shortly." he added as he noticed her looking around.
Ingor nodded slowly, peeling her gaze away from the rest of the valley and fixing it on him. She smiled politely as she took in his perfectly chiseled marble like features. He was dark-skinned, like herself, hair cropped in a similar fashion, and he wore a camouflage jacket and trousers over a Khaki green fitted vest, outlining the perfectly shaped, toned muscles beneath.
Ingor swallowed hard. She had seen his type before. Men built like this were built to kill.
"Who are you?" she asked, trying to stay calm.
"Malakh," he bowed low, "at your service," smiling as he straightened up, a wide smile that touched his eyes and Ingor found herself smiling too.
"I'm Ingor," she curtsied awkwardly before asking, "how is it that you can see and hear me? Rohi said those who come here can't."
"That's because I'm not human, milady," he answered, gesturing for her to take the lead in a direction away from the stream, "let's get you fed and dried."
Ingor nodded, walking on as Malakh followed, a step behind her to the right. They walked a short distance before stopping at a huge tree and Ingor gasped as she tilted her head to watch the top of it disappear into the clouds, and she wondered why she hadn't seen this from the stream. Surely, such a tree should be visible throughout the valley.
"This is the tree of knowledge," Malakh said, tapping gently on its massive trunk, she is only found by those who seek her. That's why, although she's always here, she can't be seen from anywhere in the valley."
"She's beautiful," Ingor stroked the rough bark of the trunk gently as she took in its grandeur and she could feel it alive beneath her palm. She watched Malakh from the corner of her eye as he slipped round the trunk of the tree, out of sight, returning a few seconds later with a dirty, brown cloak.
"Here," he bowed as he handed it to her, "this should keep you warm. I know it may not look like much but it's the best we have."
"Thank you," she nodded, smiling as she took the heavy cloth from him, wrapping it around her slender frame, then twirling as though she were glancing at herself in a mirror, "It's perfect! Looks beautiful on me!"
"You have no idea," he responded, eyes twinkling with passion as he dropped down on one knee, bowing his head solemnly, "you look like a true princess, milady."
She giggled. Unsure what to do next, she helped him to his feet, smiling as she sat, leaning against the tree. Malakh stood, watching her for a moment before deciding it best to sit too, realising his stance might be intimidating. She smiled a thank you and both of them sat in silence as Ingors mind wandered through the valley. Her eye caught a glimpse of the moonlight dancing on the water's surface as she searched for any paths back to the mountains. She gave up after a long search, pulling the warm cloak tighter around herself and burying her chin in her knees as her thoughts drifted to Rohi.
Where was he? And how come the person in the vision had called his name? Plus, in her vision, he was a man, not an eagle. What did they mean about her being tried by fire? And what was the cup she was meant to drink from?
"The silver chalice," she whispered underneath her breath and Malakh stirred uncomfortably. Ingor didn't miss the slight movement as his body shifted. She sat up, staring at him, "you've heard of it?"
He pursed his thick lips, unsure of what to do, before finally nodding.
"What is it?" she asked, unable to contain her excitement, "and where can I find it?"
"If I might ask," he said cautiously, "how d'you know about it?"
"I saw it in…" she considered for a moment how to explain her experience to him, "I saw it in a vision I had in the stream. I'm meant to drink from it in order to be able to save my people."
Malakh shook his head, "Then you shouldn't be so excited about finding it, you know."
She scanned his face for more information.
"The silver chalice is sacred," he explained, "it's not something that people rush to find. The road to finding it is rough and dangerous, and the chalice itself…" his voice trailed into silence as he thought about it, a grave sadness filling his perfect eyes.
"I need this weapon to save my people," she said softly.
"It's not a weapon!" he snapped, "and if you go looking for it, you'll surely die!"
"Great!" she threw her hands up, the gesture throwing off her cloak, she quickly gathered it back over herself, "erm, do you have a button or pin or something I could use to hold this in place?"
"No," he shook his head, "sorry, it's just the way it's made. You have to keep a hold of it, if you aren't careful, you'll lose it altogether."
Ingor nodded, holding the cloak tighter, her tone more hushed as she spoke, "What else do you know about the chalice?"
"I know that you've got to be chosen if you're to drink from it," he hugged his knees tightly, "and it's a great honour, but it's also a really hard path to walk, and most people, humans, who try never actually get to the end."
"Has anyone not human ever tried?" She asked.
"Only a human can drink from it," he said.
"And do you know of any humans who have drunk from it?"
"A few," he whispered, "not many. Though many have been tried by fire, given the opportunity to, only few have been chosen to actually drink from it."
"What's this whole 'tried by fire' thing?" Ingor rocked gently as she listened.
"It's the path," Malakh shrugged, "to the chalice, it's dangerous and you'll have to go through fire, literally. Most humans don't survive beyond the second or third flame, and even fewer survive the fourth. It's a great honour to be chosen milady, but you've got to understand that, if you're not ready to die for your cause, you won't make it to the chalice." He watched her as she absorbed his words, waiting for them to sink in, before carrying on, "If this is what you want to do, milady, I'm with you one hundered percent, but you've got to be sure this is what you want to do. Once you begin this journey, there's no going back."
Ingor stared at a leaf swaying on its branch, the images from the stream flashing through her mind as she remembered her determination when she made the decision to go. Had she made a mistake? She had wanted nothing more than to save her people, but now she was here, in this Eden, this secret place, a part of her wanted to stay, to give up her quest and just rest here forever. Somehow, she knew that wasn't possible. If the demons destroyed her world, this secret place would be destroyed along with it. It was her responsibility, and now her duty, to stop the demon army before it was too late.
Malakh knew her answer before she even said it, "I'll save my people, or die trying."
He nodded, getting to his feet, "Then we need to climb."
"Why?" she asked, looking up at the tree branches high up, holding on to her cloak as he helped her to her feet.
"Because, milady," he knotted the edges of the cloak together around her neck, disappearing again behind the trunk and returning with a large sack, "wars are won by wisdom, and Wisdom owns this tree."