The Horned Land

A lot of people who get this far begin to think that what I do is communicating with the dead, but I have to disagree. There is something so fundamentally different about Arc and Ahkra, and the ones that came later. They felt so very alive, and carried on lives in worlds of their own for most of the time. I visited those different worlds as much as I could, driven by curiosity and amazement as I surveyed landscapes so impossibly diverse and different.

The term "spirit" started to feel wrong when I applied it to them. They weren't just ghosts or insubstantial beings floating around. Far from it, really. When I visited them on their own terms, in their own worlds, they were flesh and blood, vibrant and real. If anything, it was more like I was the ghost in their world.

They were imperfect beings struggling to find or maintain happiness and peace in the same way that it seems like every human does, even if the ways sometimes differed. Ahkra battled his own temper and struggled with a vicious sort of amnesia that consumed many of his memories from the past in an attempt to erase the tragic pain that had been inflicted on him by his cruel twin brother many aeons ago. Arc had similar memory problems; he hadn't escaped Ahkra's brother's notice, mostly due to his relationship with the mysterious green-eyed man. Still, they had each other, and even if they could only be called broken when studied individually, they found a way to be whole together.

I began calling the 'spirits' that I met 'connections' instead, in reference to the strange bond that we held. It felt more accurate. The fact that Ahkra stopped raising an eyebrow judgmentally when I referred to him or Arc was enough for me to assume that the term 'connection' was more acceptable to them, too.

I became pretty familiar with Arc and Ahkra's world after meeting them. I could use that ethereal bond between us like a compass, and found myself sleeping less and stepping out of my body to explore far more.

It was vast and beautiful, and very different from this world. They called it Maika Tenei, which means something like "the horned land". I'm not sure what sort of meaning it has, but it was good enough for me.

Maika Tenei, although in no way geographically resembling Earth, makes me think of a younger version of our planet. Great forests still stretch over the land, massive and awesome; rivers run clean and full of fish... unless you count the Cari Keivy, which looks red due to the minerals in the riverbed.

Although the majority of the main continent and it's southern islands are well-populated and thrive with vegetation for the most part, to the north is what the people call "the Deinnan". It is an expansive wasteland dotted with ruins older than anyone can count. The land is harsh and unforgiving to anything that attempt to grow there, the ground broken and dry. Only the most dangerous or talented animals and races are able to live in this land, including dragons, the Wilderfae, who appear to be nomadic and very magically inclined elves with stripe-like markings on their skin, and Deinnan unicorns, which are far more vicious and colorful than their friendly southern cousins.

The main continent is home to a ridiculous variety of different denizens. Many of them are very human-like, some of them less so. Towns are small vales there; their largest cities are roughly the size of a small town here, and most buildings are humbly constructed of wood, bricks, stone, and other such natural resources, as opposed to the concrete, glass and metal behemoths that we boast in our world. Horses, wagons, and ships are the main mode of transportation. Most weapons are blades, with only the most rudimentary guns having been invented. Even those are rare to find, though.

It's not that the people of Maika Tenei aren't capable of technological advancement. It's more that they haven't had the push that we've had. Why should they focus on harnessing electricity and science? After all, the most notable thing that I immediately noticed was that Maika Tenei was rich and abundant with what we would call magic. Almost everyone seems to have at least a little bit. There is no need for electricity when with just a touch, a whole building can be lit up as if by daylight.

Now, I've always enjoyed a nice fairy tale, but at the same time I have had a huge respect for science at the same time. My rational mind was starting to ask questions. I couldn't discredit my own experiences, but I was starting to worry about the state of my sanity. After all, it was hard to explain another world full of magic and magical beings. Not to mention Ahkra and Arc's impossible ages (Ahkra claimed to have witnessed the birth of Time, and Arc, though younger, was older than our own planet Earth) -- especially when you consider their youthful appearances. For that matter, the fact that I would have any sort of voices in my head was alarming.

Whether I was crazy or not, I still trusted Arc and Ahkra. They had been reliable and trustworthy friends, and even though my doubts threw their very existence into question, I still shared them. I explained why I was struggling with believing in everything now, and why I worried that I was simply going off the deep end.

Everything considered, they took the news pretty well. I suppose I expected Ahkra to fix me with one of his famous glares and storm off having lost a good deal of respect for me, or something like that. Instead, the way that his expression softened just slightly, I could swear that he had been expecting this for awhile. Arc, too, just gave a reassuring smile, as if he understood and didn't blame me.

They knew that I'd always been a sucker for science, and, I suspect for my own sake, they used just that to explain all of this.

Things got pretty heavy from there, especially for a twelve-year-old girl. Sure, I had always been quick to pick up science, and I considered myself to be extremely literate for my age, but I got the feeling that Ahkra was giving me the explanation for dummies.

First, he explained the general belief held as true not only by him and Arc, but also by most of the denizens of Maika Tenei.

"In the beginning," Ahkra began, as if he were recounting a famous tale, "there was the Lokoi. It was everything, and nothing, all at once. It was the great sleeping beast that came before all worlds, and time itself.

"For a very, very long time, it slept peacefully, completely still. One day, something happened to disturb the Lokoi. No one knows what could have done this, but the Lokoi gave a small tremble, like a sleeping bear shifting just slightly.

"This event was tiny in contrast to the Lokoi, but it's effects were cataclysmic. Small motes fell off of the Lokoi as it shifted, each one of them giving birth to a new world, and a new Incarnation. These were referred to as Children of the Lokoi."

"Incarnation?" I interjected suspiciously. I knew what the word meant, but wasn't sure it had anything to do with Ahkra's story.

"Yes, an Incarnation. Each of the Incarnations born of the Lokoi were a unique and vast ocean of energy focused into a single being. Fire, Water, Earth, Air. Darkness, Light, Time, Corruption."

"Darkness, huh?" I fixed him with a scrutinizing stare. The way he said that reminded me all to much of when he had given me his 'name'. And then there was the fact that he claimed to have witnessed 'the birth of Time'. Suddenly I felt like I was starting to put together the pieces of the puzzle.

Ahkra simply gave me a knowing smile, looking almost smug. I was sure that he could tell exactly what was going through my head, and somehow reveled in making me put everything together myself.

"Among others," he replied coolly  giving me no indication whether my sneaking suspicions were correct. I was sure that they were though.

I was almost positive that the Incarnation of Darkness was the vain bastard standing before me. Nevertheless, Ahkra continued with his story. It was probably for the better, anyway. Figuring out the mystery that was Ahkra could wait until I decided whether I was still sane or not.

"Those small worlds that had been cast off by the Lokoi into the void began to flourish," Ahkra continued. "They grew, and in turn gave birth to even more new worlds. In time, a myriad of beautiful and different universes had arisen, like the different facets of a single gemstone, reflecting every possibility that could ever be."

I had a thousand questions about the Incarnations that Ahkra had only barely mentioned, but set them aside for later.

"So, a nice story about a great beast giving birth to a whole bunch of worlds is supposed to make me feel less crazy?"

I was being hard on him, and I knew it. He didn't hold it against me, though.

Ahkra simply gave me his trademark grin. "Would you prefer the cold, hard logic? Personally, I find it to be a much less elegant tale, but I suspect it is exactly the cup of tea you desire."

"Well, you've got that right," I retorted. I suppose I expected him to attempt and fail to explain all of this scientifically -- probably because the world he hailed from was far from scientifically advanced. I was wrong.

Ahkra was right about one thing -- it was a far less elegant tale, but far more believable. He explained to me that we live in a multiverse -- a grouping of an infinite number of universes that have to exist in order to play out every possibility that could ever possibly happen. Emphasis on ever. And magic was in there, too.

I had also never heard such a dull and rational explanation for how, exactly, magic worked, either. According to Ahkra, magic and science were not mutually exclusive at all. Rather, magic was simply harnessing and converting energy. In extreme cases, it involved the breakdown of matter into energy, or even the creation of matter from energy. Maika Tenei was abundant with some sort of an energy field that made magic easy. I was pretty disappointed when I asked about our own planet Earth.

"It's a dead planet," he told my sympathetically, dashing all hopes that had started to rise within me. "Arc and I are very powerful and skilled with magic, and yet while we can accomplish great feats back on Maika Tenei, our abilities are far more limited in your world. A few thousand years ago it was a different story."

It was all well and dandy that there were, according to Ahkra and Arc, an infinite number of different worlds out there, including worlds that operated on completely different laws of physics and seemed, by our perspective, full of magic and fantasy. It still didn't explain how I had connected with Ahkra and Arc, though, and that was it's own very hairy subject.

When I asked them, Ahkra got that expression that meant he was frustrated with the limitations of my language. His answer was full of images as much as words this time.

"Although each universe is independent and separate," he commented, frowning, "they do effect each other."

The image of each world as a different face on a gemstone with a complex cut, part of the same whole, flashed through my mind for a moment, before being replaced by a stack of thin paper, each sheet representing a different world. In that mental image, Ahkra set a stone down on the stack, and drew my attention to the way that many of the papers on top of the stack had bent around the stone, even if they weren't directly in contact with it.

"You might not be able to travel between them physically, short of using a portal, but such petty limitations hold only to matter. Something like energy can pass through or affect them far more easily. For instance, a person's spirit. Mine, yours, or Arc's. You are a natural wanderer. Your spirit looks for weak spots between the worlds and wanders between them."

Okay, so he said portal, but I could tell he was referring to wormholes. I wasn't quite convinced yet, though. Frowning, I crossed my arms. "That sounds all right..." I agreed reluctantly, "but I'm not sure that's something that could be proved."

One of Ahkra's eyebrows rose as he studied me. He wasn't mad, necessarily, but I could tell he already knew that I was going to read up on this and double check his logic later. Rather than giving me a lengthy explanation again, he shrugged.

"Look up Dark Matter," he offered enigmatically, before taking off, presumably to meet up with Arc and give me some space to think.

Ahkra

It wasn't long before it came to my attention that it wasn't just Arc lingering at the edge of my awareness.

Whatever bond we had formed during that first experience stayed; I felt like I could reach out and touch it: a tangible thread of light leading from me to him. I could feel his thoughts and emotions, and I'm sure that he could feel mine. Suddenly, with him by my side, I found myself less afraid of the shadows and creatures that had previously terrified me senseless. He was a trusted friend, and after our harrowing escape of that shapeless nameless horror from my "dream" -- if you could call something so overwhelmingly vivid a dream -- I knew he had my back.

I didn't know that Arc came as a part of a package deal, however, until I began to pick up on the presence of his darker counterpart.

Where Arc felt like sunshine and soft fur and the delicate soft scent of flowers, this new spirit couldn't have been further from it. He felt like cold satin, cinnamon and cloves, and moonlight spilling down from the heavens. That was about all I got, though. He had completely shut himself off from me; his thoughts and emotions were as mysterious as those depthless emerald eyes that regarded me so suspiciously. He had not of that boyish innocence that hung around Arc, either. He was taller with more striking features and hair the most peculiar color of dark red. He was beautiful in the way that you would describe a storm as beautiful -- dangerous and utterly inhuman.

I'll be honest. My first opinion of him was that he was a complete jerk. He ignored me, distrusted me, and wouldn't even give his name. I was highly offended, especially since in my opinion, he was trespassing upon me, and not the other way around.

In time, I would come to change my mind completely and utterly about him, though. The way that he treated Arc with such unexpected gentleness and affection, I soon came to realize firstly why he had come here, and secondly why he had been so icy. His eyes were all for Arc; underneath all of those spines and all that ice was love for the youth. It wasn't that he resented me, personally so much as he was protective of Arc. These were the first emotions that eventually filtered through his hard shell as he slowly opened up to me.

I wasn't nearly as begrudging of his presence after that revelation, and gave him the space he needed. In time, he recognized that I wasn't any sort of threat to Arc, and opened up to me the way a reluctant moonflower opens it's petals in the safety of nightfall. A bond slowly formed between us the way it had with Arc and me, and trust grew between us, step by step.

I still didn't have a name, though.

"You know," I addressed him, "I still don't have anything to call you. I can't just call you 'Guy' or 'Stranger' or something."

Something like amusement flickered in his eyes as he considered the question. From the look in his eyes, I doubted very much that I would be getting a nice straight answer the way I had with Arc. This new spirit had always been more complex and less forthcoming, so this shouldn't have come as a surprise, really. Where Arc wore his heart out in the open, his taller companion seemed to be cloaked in layers of mystery.

"Ahkra is fine." Something like a grin tugged at his lips.

I frowned. I should probably note that this conversation wasn't spoken out loud, in an effort to keep my family and friends from becoming seriously concerned for my well-being. Because this was spoken in thoughts, however, so much more than just words were conveyed with each question and answer.

Ahkra. An interesting word, but the way he thought it, it was just that. A word -- not a name. Ahkra, in the old language, roughly meaning 'darkness'. I could tell that he thought it was fitting. For me personally, it only gave birth to even more questions. I left them alone for the moment. He had given his answer, and that was good enough.

Ahkra it was.

Running on All Fours

I've been called a lot of things: psychic, medium, astral traveler, witch, possessed, spiritwalker, crazy, and different. Which one is the most accurate is a lot less important than why these words became pinned to me in the first place, however.

I couldn't tell you for certain when this really, truly began. From the earliest memories that I have, I saw things that no one else did. Shadows, figures, and the faint glow of auras. It didn't matter whether I was burrowed under the covers of my bed in the deepest part of night, cowering from a large black entity lumbering down the staircase leading into my room or if it was bright daylight out in the garden, with smaller shadows flitting here and there deviously; they surrounded me always.

I was in a constant state of fear of these unknown beings, doing everything I could to avoid their notice. That is, until I met Arc.

Up until this time, the figures I had seen were anything but human. Many resembled animals or strange hybrids more than anything. They ranged from seven-foot tall behemoths to cat-like pieces of scurrying darkness. Arc was different, though. He came to me at night, as some of the others tended to, and walked right up to the corner of my bed, silent. Unlike the darker energies that roiled around the other figures I'd seen, all I could feel from him was something like uncertainty. Shyness, even. Nothing about him was threatening -- his silhouette was perfectly human as far as I could tell, and petite at that. Just over five feet and skinny.

I was cautious, nonetheless. I held perfectly still, tried to slow my breathing as to make it silent. My efforts were fruitless; he already knew I was there. I could feel his eyes on me, even if I couldn't see them, and we engaged in a stare-off.

I lost. Drowsiness washed over me in thick waves until my eyes rolled back and deep sleep claimed me as quickly and efficiently as a tranquilizer.

When I opened my eyes, a completely different scene awaited my gaze. Rather than the spacious, if slightly unkempt bedroom, a dusky sky loomed over my head. Crisp, tawny grass crinkled underneath my bare feet, ticklish and dry as it fought a losing battle against what I took to be autumn. The smell of dry, crumpling leaves, dust and the faint tang of rust colored the brisk air around me.

I had no recollection of this place whatsoever. A thin forest of young pines filtered into existence off to the left, and the clearing I stood in held no notable features save a desolate swing-set -- the old metal kind with almost no paint left and the sort of unused, unmaintained look that led me to believe that it had not been used in a very, very long time.

This place was filled with the kind of emptiness that makes you hesitate to breath. No birds, no bugs, no signs of life. Except for him.

It's hard to say how I knew it was the same young man that had been standing at my bedside; I could only make out his most basic features in the darkness of my room. Here, standing in the dim remnants of daylight, there was no doubt in my mind that the brunette boy before me was the same person. His eyes, the color of sapphires, watched me solemnly, almost curiously, as if waiting to see what I would do. His slender figure was motionless, letting me make the first move.

Whatever trepidation I had held upon seeing him at first had completely disintegrated. It was hard to think I had been worried or afraid of such a delicate teenage boy, who was pretty in the sense that most girls were pretty.

"Where-?" I opened my mouth, a dozen questions fighting their way out. When he frowned at me and put a finger to his lips, though, my voice died in my throat.

He gave no explanation for the suggestion of silence. Instead, his big blue eyes slid over to the ruined structures of an old cityscape that nature had already begun to devour. It was just far enough for the rusted metal frames to poke through the camouflage of trees.

I felt it as soon as he looked over there. The sensation of ice swept over me, my stomach jumped into my throat, and my heart forgot to beat. The brunette, if I could describe how he felt to me, was like the warmth of a stray sun-ray, the softness of a kitten's fur, or the smell of night-blooming flowers. This, whatever this was, couldn't have felt further from that. It felt like swallowing acid, being submerged in cold water. It reeked of the metallic tang of copper or blood, and felt like steel wool rubbed against your skin.

I couldn't see the thing, whatever it was, but it felt huge. Although nothing but my screaming instincts held proof of anything being there, I could nearly imagine it's shoulders (if, indeed, it had shoulders) bumping against the clouds as it turned it's hostile gaze towards us. After all, by the looks of this place, there wasn't exactly anyone else left to hunt.

The mystery brunette still hadn't spoken a single word to me, but at this point I wasn't eager to complain. I had a sinking suspicion that we'd already drawn too much attention to ourselves.

Catching my gaze, the boy nodded to one side, jogging away from the aging swing-set and into the cover of trees, leading the way. I followed, having no better ideas of my own. Eventually, the scratchiness of the drying grass gave way to the uncomfortable gravelly feeling of old asphalt as he carefully picked out a path and trotted ahead of me, down crumbling side-roads and derelict buildings. I could feel the leviathan following us, almost languid and patient in it's long, slow strides. Breathing hard and looking back for a sign of our unseen predator, I nearly ran straight into the boy as he had stopped rather suddenly, waiting for me evidently.

As far as I could tell, it was a dead-end. The remains of a once enormous wooden building surrounded us, many of the boards fallen and cracked to reveal crevices that were just too small for either of us. Before panic could overwhelm me though, I caught the look in his eyes. He still hadn't spoken even once to me, but within those blue eyes were volumes of words. His expression wasn't that of fear or worry, but rather of determination. He waited until he had my complete attention, and then, suddenly, rather than the brunette youth, I was faced by a small jackal, it's triangular ears perked to attention, regarding me with the same sapphire gaze. After holding my gaze a moment longer, the small canine turned tail and darted through one of the gaps in the crumbling frame.

Maybe it should have occurred to me then that I was almost certainly doomed. That boy had a nice trick, but there was clearly nothing up my sleeve. This sort of fatal logic was lost in the adrenaline of the moment, however. I just remember scrambling on my hands and knees, trying to squeeze through the tiny space after my notably silent companion. I tried to make myself as small as possible, tried squeezing through....

Almost there.... almost.... just a little smaller....

There must have been some sort of switch that flicked, some sort of transition between the awkward girl trying to shove herself into a cranny that was clearly too small, knees and hands covered in dust and small flecks of red, tawny hair catching on the splinters of the boards around her, and a second jackal with green eyes racing to catch up to her only hope of escaping the unseen horror that hovered at the entrance to the makeshift tunnel. There was no conscious attempt to change into anything other than what I was, and no recollection of changing. I just remember the desperation as I tried to worm my way after my wayward companion, and eventually was small enough to squeeze through the space, all four feet a blur as I ran ahead to catch up with him, my claws digging into the soft, ruined wood of the beam below me.

We wound our way through awkward spaces, ran when we had room, and simply continued to put as much distance between ourselves and the thing that had been following us. It felt like hours; I was breathing hard, panting for breath despite the fact that my legs didn't seem to tire, following the brown and black tail ahead of me with a single-minded focus.

When my companion did eventually slow, he ducked under a couple of fallen beams into a large empty area. Grasses and small wildflowers poked up through the soil underneath us, with the remnants of an old building up above. Sunlight filtered softly through the cracks and gaps between each board. It felt serene, safe. The icy, grating presence of the thing from before had disappeared, unable to follow our crazed escape.

When the blue eyed jackal yawned, and curled up in a ball to rest, I didn't feel any hesitation to do the same. I felt safe here, away from prying eyes and in good company. I drifted off slightly, the warmth of the sunlight above pleasant as the sensation of floating slowly overcame me. Something nagged at the back of my mind, though, keeping me from falling into true sleep.

I still didn't know his name.

The brunette with those soulful blue eyes and delicate features who had helped me to escape the terror from before was still as much a mystery as he had been from the start. I peeked one eye open in an attempt to stay awake, my green gaze settling sleepily onto the small jackal next to me. There was something between us, after our flight together away from that nameless evil. Trust, I suppose, was the best word for it. Maybe even bordering on friendship.

Even my curiosity wasn't enough stop the lure of sleep, though. As I felt myself falling slowly into slumber, I clung to the question that consumed my thoughts even now. I refused to let go of it even as my consciousness slipped.

Who are you...?

The scent of earth and rotting wood, dry grass and daylight faded into something softer as darkness slipped around my like a warm blanket. I was just on the edge of consciousness when the answer that I wasn't expecting came.

Laemaikys.

I could see each letter branded into my vision even with my eyes closed. The word was spoken, too, though, in his own voice. Soft and lyrical. I could almost feel the smile in that single strange word.

Seconds later, my green eyes blinked open, adjusting to the sunlight pouring around the curtains in my own familiar bedroom.

I lay there for awhile, absorbing everything. The possibility of writing everything off as a dream hovered in my mind momentarily. It was tempting, certainly. But I had dreamed many times before, and it had never been as vivid as that. I had never felt grass between my toes, smelled metal and dirt, or felt the slight chill of a breeze in a dream. More than that, Laemaikys, or "Arc" as he was later nicknamed, was still there. I could feel something between us, like a string of light or a small tunnel. I could sense his smile, his benevolence, as if at any given time he was standing beside me. I could wonder about something, and feel his answer or comment on the subject. I could virtually see the way he would tilt his head thoughtfully, frowning just slightly before giving his opinion on something.

It wasn't frightening, anymore, though.

It felt right.