"Seeking what is true is not seeking what is desirable."
― Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays
The wind rushed over the rooftops, warm and heavy. It tugged at Lyra's clothes, the loose fabric a burden on her. Up here she was free. No Arthur, Brull, or anyone else.
"I'm here, you know?"
"I know Fen..." Lyra leaned back, head at the base of a marble statue. "But, sometimes, I like to pretend I'm alone."
"Fine..." Fen sulked off, deeper into Lyra's mind. "I'll take a nap and leave you to... whatever this is."
Lyra turned her face to the sky, eyes on the silver moon. Something was off... the air was changed. The colors were different, or maybe the texture of things. A sigh pressed on her lips. It carried the same tangled wrongness that shrouded her heart.
"I'm not supposed to be here..."
Her words floated after her sigh, into the wind. She knew it, like she understood how to draw breath. This world was different than it should be, and she couldn't find her place. Even in the darkest times, she'd never lost her path. Each moment of suffering or joy had always felt... in their place.
Ever since Ven saved us... Lyra had been about to die, she'd seen the end of her path. Then, the path vanished, lost to a chaotic drone. Each day it grew, and with it, came awful nightmares. Dream's where she was nailed to the hull of a ship. A world where Ven never came, and her path held steady to the end.
"I can't see the way anymore, Mother..."
A tear escaped Lyra's eye. She barely recalled the woman's face, but her last words held true in her heart.
Follow the paths that only we can see, run and never look back!
Lyra had obeyed. Every day of her life she'd followed the instinct within her. It guided her, a comfortable certainty that supported her on the blackest days. Now it was gone. She couldn't understand the emotion that simmered within her. It was foreign, a stranger in her house.
"If you can't see the path, then make one."
"I thought you were sleeping..." Lyra sighed.
"I tried, but you're so worked up, it's like a hurricane in here."
"Sorry," Lyra closed her eyes and placed a hand on Fen's head. "I'm just feeling lost..."
"We are never lost, little pup!" Fen rubbed her head against Lyra's palm. "Where we are is our kingdom, it's the same wherever we go."
"That's easy for you to say, you're an ancient destroyer..."
"WE are an ancient destroyer!" Fen nipped at Lyra's fingers. "We are one. We leave a path behind us, each step blazing a trail for all to see!"
Lyra gave Fen a half-hearted smile. The wolf had so much confidence, enough to bring them trouble.
"We might be one, but I'm still me."
She returned her gaze to the moon. Its backdrop of stars was like firelight to her eyes. She sat, curled on the roof, mind empty as the heavens danced and shone.
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"Maaaraa! Ooulin's dead!"
Kalina's tearful cries pried open Mara's eyes, helped by the goddess's tiny fingers. She swatted the small woman away and pulled her blanket overhead like a shield.
"Go away Kalina, Ooulin will be fine..."
"NO! You don't understand, he's been gone for hours!" Kalina bounced up and down on Mara's huddled form. "He must be dead, or maybe someone is holding him ransom!"
Mara tightened her grip and hunkered deeper. If I get up, this is my problem, but I'm still asleep... Her lips twisted into a smile, pleased with her logic.
"We have to find him, they could be warming a soup pot as we speak!" Kalina burrowed into Mara's pillowed fortress. "We have to avenge Ooulin and carve up his captures before they escape!"
Mara clamped down, blankets firm against any miniature intruders. I'm asleep, I'm asleep, sleepy sleep... She ignored Kalina's muffled cries and swaddled the small woman in a prison of fabric. We're all asleep... Her arm drew a circle around the little goddess and tightened in a vice.
"Let me go, you stupid cat!" Kalina's muffled squeaks penetrated Mara's drowsy mind. "I'm dying! Help, HELP!"
"Haaaaaaa..." Mara stretched her body. She released Kalina at the same time and the imp rocketed free of the blanket's dark embrace. "Fine, we'll look for Ooulin, but I'm sure he's just napping somewhere..."
"Ooulin never sneaks off to nap!" Kalina mumbled, hands locked in a struggle with her ruffled hair. "He's just very, very stupid."
Mara smiled at Kalina's matter-a-fact tone. Despite the goddess's claims, Ooulin seemed very smart, for a turtle. He'd become adept at avoiding his childish mother. Kalina spent half her time in search of him, an endless game of hide and seek.
"Well let's go," Mara pulled on her top, bottoms in hand. "I'll bet he's either with Ven, or in the gardens." She hopped from one foot to the other, then tightened her belt.
"Let's check with Ven first," Kalina's eye's held a devilish glint. "If he's sleeping, I want to try out a new toy..."
"No more puppets!!!" Mara blushed, memories of Kalina's immoral behavior burnt into her mind.
"No, no," Kalina shook her head. "This is better, much better!" Her evil grin spilled into laughter as the two women made their way out the door.
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A cold chill burrowed into Ooulin's shell, a tingle in the lines of fate. With a sleepy yawn, the turtle opened one eye. The orb flickered, black, then white. His legs popped out, planted firm in the downy mattress. He rose with a shake, a ripple from head to toe.
Conviction on his face, Ooulin trundled forward, up a mountain of shadowed skin. Each step was slow, but sure. Soon, he stood atop Ven's chest, face to face with the unconscious man.
Ooulin set his feet and extended his neck. Mouth wide, he chomped down on Ven's nose, joy in his heart. Danger approaches, time to wake the protector. His beak struck true and Ven gave a mighty twitch.
"Gaaahhh! What the hell, you brainless turtle!"