The Ancient Master of Chaos (part 2)

Ten years had passed since that first fateful meeting with the Ancient Master of Chaos. In the time between, Melrinda had received degrees and honors, written award winning articles published in The Fae Times, worked internships at famed institutions, returned to schooling for advanced degrees. And now – her dream of long last achieved, she worked as a true Mage in Loth’Kor, the Capitol of Mages and Magic, as it was called, with skyscrapers which glistened like the crystal spires of a glass castle.

            It was perfect.

            Except.

            She found that she was lonely, and the city will-oh-the-wisp street lights kept her awake at night. She saw an ad in the morning paper – a tenant of a two-bedroom farmhouse seeking a roommate. The farmhouse was just outside the city, but the commute with the train would not be bad, and it would be much quieter. The tenant, too, was an alum of her old secondary school. Still, she would not have applied for the vacant room had she known then the name of current tenant. Cora’ana.

            The cicadas hummed their evening lullaby outside her upper-room cottage window. The air smelled sweet and of green-things. The glowing yellow-blue lights of the city hid the stars, though.

            Melindra sat at her small, wooden writing desk. The sunset fell asleep, leaving her in the purple shadowy aftermath alone with her scrolls and inked parchments, which cluttered her desk and the floor besides.  She sung a few words, and the candle on the desk sprung to life. Now she could read her notes.

            An excerpt from The life of Loglor Morendor- a memoir by Jeonorda Corinta published A.E. 51

            The most recent work I have found regarding the supposed whereabouts of the sea-serpent. How reliable is this? Still written 1000 years past, and details the life of a man, Loglor Morendor, that a mixture of legend,myth, and history states stumbled across the sea-serpent while journeying by sea from the Southern Lands to the Ocean of Edixoid. Loglor aimed to find an easier passage between the two, as the trade routes of the day travelled through the Rolling Desert, according to other texts of the day. He did not find that route, that was not to be discovered for another 500 years,

            Still, according to this excerpt, and other folk-legends I have come across, this record, though, the most academic, Loglor may have had an encounter with the sea-serpent near what is now called the Cliffs of Ologendogh. The text is not clear on the nature of the encounter, yet I am inclined to believe it’s authencity.

            Her notes, then detailed her reasons for believing such for another twelve inches of parchment.

            Could it be? Could the sea-serpent, the ancient master of chaos, be chained in the sea north of the Cliffs of Ologendogh? If so, what a discovery this would make! Her name, Melindra O’Fionnora would be legendary – for she would have made the discovery for the ancient long-forgotten search for the long-forgotten sea-serpent who was starting to awake. Her discovery would save the world from Undoing. She-Melindra O’Fionnora-would gather the best mages and magicians. Together they would travel to the Cliffs, and sing to sleep the Ancient sea-serpent once more.

            Yes, Melindra O’Fionnora, not Cora’ana, would be named the most famed magician of her age.

            A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts.

            Irritation flickered. “Yes.” Would the sharp tone in her voice deter Cora’ana. Not likely.

            Cora’ana held a plate of fresh-baked cookies. Melindra always worked so late into the night, Cora’ana said, would she like a mid-night snack?

            No, Melindra did not want Cora’ana’s baked goods.

            Cora’ana laughed, and placed the plate on the floor. She then held her hands behind her back like a little girl and rocked on her hills.

            Melindra asked, quite sharply she thought, what it was Cora’ana wanted.

            Cora’ana grinned. “I just received the letter dictating the best news! Head mage Lianord the Odd liked the apparatus I submitted – you remember the one, it uses pixie dust to turn water to wine – much more ecologically friendly than using fairies wings – and he submitted it to the Bauru for Magical Tools and they approved it! Isn’t that wonderful!”

            Yes, quite wonderful. This was Cora’ana’s fourth approved invention this year, and spring had only just become summer.

            “Yes,” Cora’ana acceded. “I am happy for myself, of course. But I’m also thrilled that the poor little fairies will be able to keep their wings. Wings grow back, of course, when removed. But it takes time, and fairies do not have long lifespans, after all. But pixies are shedding dusk left and right. So using pixie dust…”

            Cora’ana continued in this manner for quite some time. Cora’ana was oddly quiet at the Mage’s guild meetings. Yet, to Melindra, she always spoke a hurricane when it came to her inventions. She seemed to think that she and Melindra were friends, to Melindra’s great dismay.

            Finally, Cora’ana stopped with a flush and an apology – “Oh, you are busy, aren’t you? I’ll leave you then.” And left.

            But Melindra could not focus on her notes.

            It was not fair. There again goes Cora’ana saving the world without a sweat or a tear.

Her thoughts a hundred years snarl of tangled yarn, Melindra trudged to bed, hoping to dream of cookies (but cookies not baked by Cora’ana, of course.)

She breathed though submerged in a murky, wintry ocean.

            No. This could not be. The dreams had stopped.

            Yet, the sea-serpent, like in the past dreams that were not dreams, unraveled, and loomed before her.

            “Hello. Melindra O’Fionnora, daughter of the Sea.” The Sea-serpent spoke. “You have done what I have asked. You have sought me.”

            Yes, she had.

            Now, standing before the sea-serpent, she wished she had not.

            “Will you find me, Melindra. Will you release me.” The Sea-Serpent asked.

            She would. 

            Her fantasies in the waking world were just that- fantasy. Melindra O’Fionnora’s name would not be known for saving the world, but sinking it.

            Despair.

            Cora’ana. Everything was Cora’ana’s fault. Pulsing anger like a volcano’s lava slashed Melindra with burning heat even submerged in the icy depths as she was. She hated Cora’ana. Cora’ana had taken everything from her. If she released the Sea-Serpent, chaos would reign, yet she could not care, she could not be perturbed, not if the reigning chaos would bring her her revenge, not if the reigning chaos would bring to Cora’ana a tenth of the pain she felt, not if-

            Through the hazy red that burned her vision, Melindra saw the Sea-serpent smile. It knew it had her in its grasps. It knew that she would release it. It knew she would be willing to destroy the world in her lash of pain.

            Melindra fled.

            Or tried.

            The sand sank beneath her feet, and the waters pressed around her like a cage, holding her captive.

            “NO! NO! NO!” She screeched. Screaming at herself. “NO! I won’t. I can’t!” She had to flee. She had to escape. She had to find the furthest recesses of the Lands if she must. Before this madness overcame her. She knew, if she did not flee, she had not the strength to resist it. If she did not flee, she would cave.

            Sobbing, she wrenched her left leg forward. The water clawed at it.

            Melindra awoke, screaming. She bolted upright on her wooden twin bed. Her window open, the robins and jays chirps fluttered through along with the morning sun and fresh air. The sunlight, calm and bright, was a jarring contrast to the dark oceans only moments before. A bloody slash spilled down her left calf. She cared not.

            Great sobs overtook her. She cried, even as she wrenched herself from her bed, seized the faded-green, copper clasped suitcase from beneath it, and began heaving whatever articles of clothing her hands laid hold of within it. Each movement brought a spike of pain with her limping leg.

            Her door knob wobbled, and finding it locked, a fist banged on the old painted wood. Cora’ana’s distraught voice, yelled out. “Melindra, are you in there? What is the matter?”

            Melindra continued tossing things into the suitcase. A final frock, a silver hairbrush. She slammed the case shut, locked the copper clasp, and yanked the door open.

            Cora’ana blocked the doorway, her big, dark eyes grew more concerned when they landed upon Melindra’s features. “What is the matter!” She cried.

            Melindra did not dare answer. Anger still pulsed in her veins. Anger, and despair. She shoved past Cora’ana and limped down the hallway and rickety stairs as quickly as her leg would allow, through the small, yellow kitchen, into the garden, beyond the gate, and up the green Hill. Cora’ana’s pleas for her to stop, to explain the matter, she heeded not.

            Finally, atop the hill, the woman grasped Melindra’s shoulder, forcing her to halt. Melindra spun around, fury in her eyes.

            The sun was a gold ball in the eastern horizon, coating the rolling green hills, dotted farmlands, and pastures that lay in that direction a warm honey yellow. To the west, the City, with its spires and towers, still remained shrouded in purple shadows.

            “Please, Melindra,” Cora’ana pleaded. Gentle pain painted her features. “Please, what is the matter? Where are you going?”

            “Leave me be,” Melindra growled. She jerked her shoulder from Cora’ana’s grip.

            “But you cannot leave. Not like this! What is it? A nightmare”-

            Melindra laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. “A nightmare.” She scoffed. Her eyes still glistened with the tears. “Would you call a council with Koth Arlodh Deray a mere nightmare!”

            “Do not speak the name”- Cora’ana began.

            Melindra cut her off. “Would several councils over the last decade with The Master of Chaos, the Deserter of Good-will, the Maker of Evil Things, a mere nightmare.” Scorn saturated her every words. “Let me go!”

            “No.” Cora’ana clinched her jaw. “Not until you explain to me the matter of all this. We are friends, Melindra, friends help one another. What trouble”-

            Again, Melindra cut Cora’ana off with knife-sharp words. “Friends!” She nearly screeched. “Friends! I HATE YOU.”

            Cora’ana stood still as stone, shocked like a bird wounded in flight. She opened her mouth, a bare trickle of a whisper emerged. “Melindra…”

            Melindra flung her suitcase to the ground. The clasp broke, and her belongings flew everywhere. A wild rage entered her eyes. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. How can you have not known.” She laughed; it had a derisive, cutting sound.

            “What do you mean?” Cora’ana whispered, tears leaked from her eyes. “Why?”

            “Why? I hate you because you are my better in every way. I hate you because you stole my dreams in school. Had you not attended Bearear School, I would have been accepted into The University of Praecellins. The Admissions Officer told me so himself in a letter, when I sent a messenger dove and asked. I worked hard still, made accomplishments still, became the most distinguished student Corvus ever had, became more distinguished than many of the graduates of Precellins. Still, your fame always triumphed. Had you not won such fame, I would have been invited to join the Council of the Nine Lands. Not you. No matter how hard I worked, no matter how bright I shined, you always shined the brighter. I hate you. I hate you, because despite my animosity, you still wanted to be my friend. I hate you, because despite all your accomplishments, you remain humble and kind. I hate you while I admire you. I curse you while I bless you. I name you my enemy, while I wish to call you a friend.”

            Cora’ana’s eyes had grown wider with each word of Melindra’s speech, and tears now freely spilled from the eyes of both grown women.

            The passionate words expelled some of the fervor of emotion. Melindra’s shoulders sagged.

            Cora’ana reached out a hand, closed a fist, then lowered it again. “And The Master of Chaos?” She asked quietly.

            Melindra exhaled. “He is awake, Cora’ana. He has been so at least since our last year of schooling, if not, as I suspect, long before.”

            Though a warm morning, Cora’ana shivered at Melindra’s proclamation. She did not protest it, though.

            Melindra continued. “That is why I must leave. It has spoken to me in my dreams. It has asked me to find it, and release its chains. And I have.” She laughed a mad-woman’s laugh.

            Cora’ana leapt. “You did what!” Her voice trembled.

            Melindra huffed. “Not what you think. Not yet. I searched it out. I told myself I was doing it for the sake of the world. If the Sea-Serpent truly was awake, then the Lands must know, and seek out those who can put it back to sleep again. I searched it out to save the world. That is what I told myself.” Bitterness rang with each word. “But had that truly been my motives, would I not have alerted others? Oh no, I argued with myself, you cannot tell others. They will condemn you. I am selfish and afraid, unlike you, Cora’ana, who is selfless and brave.” She shook her head. “No, deep in my heart of hearts, I knew why I sought the Sea-Serpent out. And it was not for any honorable vision.”

            Cora’ana stood silent. Sadness clouded her eyes. “Oh Melindra.” She whispered.

            Melindra laughed again, and again, it was a bitter laugh, though now mingled with something akin to affection. “You feel for me, do you not, Cora’ana? You truly are the better of us two.”

            Cora’ana shook her head. “No, Melindra, you’ve never seen how special you are.”

            A half-smile touched Melindra’s lips. “I know who I am.” There was no bitterness to the statement. “I know who I could have been, too, had envy not blighted my spirit. I know who I could be, still. Yet if I want to remain myself, I must go. You must see why I must leave now. You must.” Desperation filled those last words like water overflowing a pitcher.

            Cora’ana did cry. Melindra wanted to smile. Cora’ana had always been an easy crier.

            “Yes, I do understand.” She said. “Do what you must, to remain who you are.”

            “Thank you.” Melindra said softly.

            She would leave now, knowing that, if she must, she would walk to the furthest recesses of the Nine Lands. She would do whatever she must to flee the madness which, for most her life, had threatened to swallow her.

            Cora’ana waved a hand in a graceful flow, and Melindra’s suitcase and belongings righted themselves, the copper clasp clicked shut, and the case fluttered into Melindra’s hand. Another graceful motion and the slash on her left leg, coagulating though blood still trickled, healed.

            Melindra nodded her thanks.

            “Take care of yourself.” Cora’ana said.

            “I will.” Melindra smiled, a true, kind, genuine smile.

            For the first time in a long, long time, she was free.

            Green suitcase in hand, she turned, away from the farmhouse, away from the city, and walked down the green slope to the rolling hills beyond.