Ten days have passed since the last special edition, time for you to read the first two parts of this tale, and time for me to restructure my plans and thoughts, which day after day seem to crumble, and from the crumbs new ideas are born. I am tired of having new ideas, which is why I have been trying to work with this here… Anayr.
About a week ago I decided to go back to running tabletop RPGs and to dedicate more of my time to making content about this hobby I had set aside for a few years, and it has been a lot of fun. Despite how little free time I have, playing RPGs puts me in a universe where I have some control over things, and it is a huge comfort not to be 100% stuck in this reality.
The final part of Tales of Anayr: The Desert is about a new people, a new race and a new character, whom I call “the blind woman who sees all”. I remember that when I first wrote this story I was reading Greek mythology, and something there gave me these ideas: a mix of mysticism, sea, islands and an extra eye.
I wish I understood how my thoughts get shuffled when I create these things, but I think that is impossible.
Anyway, enjoy the read!
Hope Has Three Eyes
Beyond the plains and groves surrounding Lyane lay the great sea, known as the Sea of Lyane, where one could come across all sorts of monsters, devastating storms and unimaginable islands, and far to the east of the sea lay Ilianor. Legends said Ilianor was the land of the sun: not the sun that lit the whole world, but the Sun, the great solar Venar, god of revelations and navigation and father of the Numari race, the people with three eyes and gray hair.
Ilianor was the name of a great archipelago ruled by a kingdom of the same name. There reigned Kamariel, prince of the salt waters, known throughout the world for his exploits on distant, dangerous islands. He was also known for keeping alive the alliance between the Numari and the people of the continent of Anayr, his wife being an ordinary woman and not a Numari.
Far from the great city that served as capital to the peoples of Ilianor, on a small island compared to the many populated ones nearby, stood a mountain, and at the top of that mountain stood one of the archipelago’s many temples to the Sun god. Ariane guarded that temple. She was known as “the blind woman who sees all”.
It was a cold afternoon, with many heavy clouds in the sky. The temple doors were always open. They were made of old wood, but they were sturdy, 15 cm thick, with large runes and symbols carved along them. The temple walls were gray stone; inside, it looked very different from the outside. The walls were covered with brushed reddish tapestries depicting many past events and the endless conquests of the Numari people under the light of the solar Venar. The floor was white tile that gleamed as if no one had ever walked there with shoes on. There were torches on the walls. At the back of the temple, at the feet of a 7-meter statue of the Sun god, sat Ariane.
The Numari, surrounded by candles and incense, remained seated and blindfolded. The lotus position was a classic meditation pose for the priests of the Sun. She wore a long-sleeved cotton tunic dyed red. Her gray hair fell to her waist, and on her forehead a third eye was open, watchful.
“Who are you who approaches?” she asked, without moving. Her voice was serene. With foreigners, the Numari used the common tongue, and spoke their own language only with their own people.
Entering now was a small man. He wore chainmail, greaves and gauntlets as well; his posture was weary, and so was his expression. He carried no helmet and no sword. He was just that, a man in military dress.
“My lady,” he knelt, from exhaustion or respect? No one could tell, “I have an urgent message for you.” When he finished speaking he took a deep breath; he was definitely tired.
“Speak. What message is so important that it makes the men of Lyane cross the great sea in search of a blind Numari?” She remained calm, but there was firmness in every word, which was somewhat intimidating.
“You are blind in your common eyes, but we know the abilities of your people’s third eye. You see beyond the planes of reality.” He took another deep breath and got to his feet, showing he had knelt far more from exhaustion than respect, or perhaps only from exhaustion. “You are the blind woman who sees all, the Numari we are looking for.”
“All Numari have an extra eye, just as all men have disrespect for nature. Why me?” she asked, still without moving; only her third eye watched the scene. She breathed in some of the fragrant incense smoke and then breathed out slowly.
“We need someone who understands what she sees, not someone who only sees. You are our hope. Maybe we can still understand what the desert is.” He coughed a little; his throat was dry.
“The desert?” As if startled, yet with immense calm, Ariane rose to her feet slowly, like a giant standing up.
She thought twice before making any decision, but the desert stirred the curiosity of every priest of the sun. There were many theories about its origin, and all of them involved gods and the world beyond common eyes. If she had a chance to explore the desert, or if the men had discovered something they did not understand, she needed to do something.
“Yes, the desert.”
“Let us talk. Take me to your superior.”
And that is how the men managed to bring a blind woman across the great sea, so she could explain to them what they were seeing, what was happening.
Ͽ۞Ͼ
The sound of the horses and the turning wheels of the carriage startled the small animals of the grove. The stones on the sparsely grassed path were no obstacle; the trail had been well made by the military unit camped beyond the small, often fruit-bearing trees. The smell of nature calmed Ariane most of the time, but that place was not marked by good vibrations. Bad energies surrounded it, and she felt them as she would feel rain touching her skin. To her delight, the day was sunny.
It had been 5 days of travel by sea, on a very well-equipped ship guided by an experienced Numari. Anayr was a land of many stories and many species. It hid secrets everywhere and always surprised her people. Arriving there was not like arriving somewhere peaceful, but it was not like landing on a battlefield either. Ariane wanted to be as supportive as she could, and refusing help to a people in need was not an act of solidarity. Besides, this mission concerned the great desert of Anayr, a place studied by many Numari priests.
The carriage was simple, all wood with small details in polished metal. There were a few carvings on the outside, roots, trees, leaves, things that to Ariane were nothing but irony. Men cut down trees to build carriages and carved plants into the wood. Inside, she sat on a soft, upholstered seat. A simple man in light cloth clothes and leather boots drove the carriage.
“Do you know your land well, sir?” she asked, speaking for the first time since getting into the carriage.
“Yes, yes, I know it very well. I have traveled for many days and met most of the peoples who live here. I would even say I know their songs,” he smiled charmingly. “Nowadays I work in the name of the crown of Lyane. After all, a man has to feed his family.” He spoke fast, always watching the road, driving two horses without much hurry, glancing to the sides now and then.
“I understand. Your people made you this way. At least you still keep your energy and liveliness. That is what matters on dark days.” She was still blindfolded, and her third eye unsettled the driver a little, but he refused to stare.
“I could sing a beautiful song about Anayr’s past. Do you know about the past of our beloved land?” he asked, more or less ignoring his passenger’s previous remark.
“I know enough, but go ahead, sing.”
And the trip went on like that for a while, with only the driver’s songs. The first song spoke well of the earliest days of that great continent. He began with verses about the great Venair forest, the forest of the world; it was said to spread across the whole world, from Anayr to Ilianor, to the most remote islands and continents. He kept the rhythm, now singing about the Venar, the first, only and mighty gods who ever walked or walk the world. He sang verses about their endless forms and their most beautiful aspects of nature, about the Venar of ice, fire and air. The Venar were spirits of energy who manifested all of nature’s will on the land, being nature itself, alive and endless in beauty and power.
Ariane’s third eye now began to see the vibrations surrounding that part of the forest. Yellowish auras rose even from the plants, where the most fragile spirits lived, and yellow in an aura was always tied to fear, which frightened even her. If nature fears what lies ahead, why would she not?
The driver’s songs went on without losing their rhythm; he did not see as well as the blind Numari. Now he sang a sad passage of the world’s history, about the rise of men and the fall of the Venar, when men began cutting down the Venair forest in search of new land for their cities and villages. That is how the Venar withdrew from the world, isolating themselves in the few small trees still standing on some plains and islands, the Venair forest near Lyane being the largest gathering of those ancient trees. Despite being called a forest, it was little more than a grove, perhaps the most beautiful in the world.
From where they were, they could already see some of the first tents of the military camp, and the lookouts were ready for anyone who approached. The lookouts were the warriors who guarded the entrances of a military camp. They held bows and arrows, wore long swords at their waists, chainmail and blue-crested helmets. It was always good to have a lookout in sight, unless you were invading an enemy camp.
The driver’s songs ended when the carriage stopped, and his last verses left Ariane somewhat thoughtful. He had sung about the few Venar who stayed behind to guard the world, and the many who gave up hope in men and scattered across Anayr in search of trees from the ancient Venair, to make them their homes and curse men forever for their lack of respect for the gods and nature.
“Halt!” shouted one of the lookouts when he saw the carriage approaching. Two other lookouts reached for their quivers, nocked arrows and drew, while the one who had spoken approached the now stopped vehicle. “Where do you come from, and whom do you carry?” the lookout asked, his voice deep and intimidating.
“I am an official driver of Lyane, here on behalf of General Kullen. I bring Ariane, ‘the blind woman who sees all’, requested by your commander, Zamar.” Hearing the driver, Ariane stood and stepped out of the carriage, blindfolded, her third eye open. She now wore a long-sleeved blue tunic that reached just below her knees, its edges trimmed in white crochet. Her long gray hair fell over her shoulders to just above her waist.
“Follow me, Most Reverend.” The lookout signaled his companions in the distance to lower their bows. After taking Ariane’s hand, he nodded to the driver, who turned the carriage around and went on his way, humming his songs again.
Ariane knew that looking around was a terror, and still, while two lookouts escorted her, she could not help it. She looked and saw auras of fear in the plants, the stones, the soldiers and even their mounts. The world was screaming. Whatever was there was certainly an abnormality in nature, a true aberration. She needed to see it and solve this whole problem; now she felt it was a duty to her solar Venar.
She entered a tent somewhat larger than the others, and the lookouts left her alone. Just ahead, a man rose from a chair set with its back to the entrance. Inside there was also a table, and a cage, which was what the chair faced. The man was tall and strong and wore scarlet splint armor and a blue cape. His beardless face and sad eyes said a lot about him.
“Most Reverend Ariane, my name is Zamar, commander of this scouting and hunting troop. I am the one who requested your presence.” He held out his hand in greeting.
Ariane saw a lot of that man in a short time. Besides the purple aura of hatred, it was as if he wanted to kill someone but could not. She declined to shake his hand, because behind him, in the cage, something stranger caught her attention.
“Spare me the formalities, commander. Show me what torments your soldiers and the very nature of this place so much.” She tried to look over the man’s shoulder with her third eye, but he was taller. In her divine sight, the cage blazed like a burning flame.
“Yes...” he hesitated for a second. “What we have here goes beyond any logical explanation.” He coughed and pulled up a second chair for the blind Numari. She sat, he sat, and then he began to speak more plainly.
Zamar told her everything about his old scouting troop and how he became commander, waving his hands as he spoke. Ariane was listening, but her gaze was fixed entirely on the creature in the cage. It was like a monstrous ant, squeezed into a space too small for its size. Its eyes showed suffering and surrender. Its appearance was hideous in every way: the exoskeleton dirty and deformed, the front claws enormous. Standing, the creature would probably be taller than the commander. In the sight of the third eye it burned in flames, like a ball of fire. Zamar ended his explanation by talking about the creature and his suspicion that it had come from the great desert, because it had spoken the name of a lost friend, Valir.
“The desert... Valir...” she whispered, looking at the creature more closely with her third eye. The glow of the creature’s aura was completely out of the ordinary, intense, like flames. It was the color of a human soul, a human soul in despair.
“Yes,” the commander confirmed.
“Very well, I understand the situation.” She stood up and sat on the floor in front of the cage.
“Do not get so close. We feed that thing only once a day, and always fruit. If it eats meat, being here must be a nightmare for it. At the first sign of flesh within reach, it may attack.” The commander seemed angry at the creature.
“And why do you do this to a friend?” she asked calmly, reaching into the cage and touching the head of the creature, which stirred a little, utterly confused. It seemed afraid and amazed at the same time.
“A friend? You...” He stood up. “Are you saying this is Valir?” he asked, alarmed. “No, it cannot be! This monster devoured Valir, that is why it knows his name!”
“And why would Valir say his own name to a monster before being devoured?” She kept her serenity and withdrew her hand from the cage. “With all due respect, commander, please leave, and ask everyone to stay away from the tent. I need some time alone with your friend.”
“But...” The commander did not know how to react; he had not expected anything like this. He had surely called for her because he knew of her great gifts regarding the infinite planes of existence. His idea was that she would enter the monster’s mind to learn everything about the desert, like talking to the creature’s dark thoughts, but this was too much. “Are you sure about what you are doing?”
“I have never been so sure of anything in my life. Please, do as I asked.”
And so it was done. The commander left and gave loud, clear orders for everyone to stay away from the tent. The soldiers did not question him; they simply did as they were told. Meanwhile, Zamar sat at the foot of a nearby tree, out of his subordinates’ sight but with his eyes fixed on his tent. He was not fit to be a commander, and he had known it ever since they gave him the post, but what that blind woman had said had wounded his honor far more than if she had called him useless. If that really was his friend, then for days he had been torturing a friend trapped in an eternal prison.
Inside the tent, Ariane was preparing a very old ritual of astral projection. She had taken the creature out of the cage, moved the table and chairs aside, and laid the creature down calmly in a wide open space. It was as if the being understood her, as if it knew she was its only hope, and it cooperated. She took a small piece of chalk from a little pouch she carried and began drawing runes and symbols all over the creature’s body. When she finished, she lay down beside it.
“Try to breathe in harmony with me and fall asleep. We will talk soon, Valir.” She spoke with endless calm and gentleness. And she began.
At first her breathing had a very different rhythm from the creature’s, as if she were getting used to the air and he were exhausted, but over time the two adjusted, and the creature cooperated perfectly. It was as if it were bathed in Ariane’s calm, as if her very voice put it into a trance. Soon her illuminated vision began to darken, and she felt as if she were falling into an endless well.
When the light returned, she was outside her own body, like a spirit of light in a confusing dimension. The creature, in perfect harmony with her vibrations, had gone through the same, and as with all Numari magic, the ritual was complete. There she was, Ariane, and there he was, Valir, floating in the infinite like ghosts lost in another dimension, a confusing world full of traces of memories, places and people.
“Do you feel better now?” was her first question.
“Yes, but... I don’t understand. Where am I? How did all this happen?” It was Valir speaking, now as a version of himself, human, glowing in a greenish hue.
“Stay calm. Otherwise we will fall out of harmony. Stay calm and focus on your last memories, not the memories of this cursed body you carry around, but those of your true body.” She paused for a long time, and silence reigned. “Answer me, Valir. What happened?”
The greenish light covering Valir flickered, like a scream, but a silent one.
“I was killed by creatures of the desert...” His voice came doubled, as if part of it ran ahead and the part behind it carried repetitions, fractions of a second separating the strange voices.
“Very well, the desert. Go back to the memories of this grotesque body you now inhabit.” She paused again for a long time, clearly thinking about what he had said and remembering the song of the driver who had brought her there. “Answer me, Valir. What is the desert?”
“I don’t...” He flickered harder this time. “The desert is alive. It protects its spawn. It shreds souls and houses them in artificial bodies...” He flickered even more; his voice sounded squeezed, shrill, dragging. “I feel the desert, its directions, its power...” He choked and went on with some difficulty. “I felt better there. I had no hunger, no thirst, no pain. I was the desert!” His voice changed, and it was as if he were screaming from the bottom of a ditch. “Why can’t I speak?!”
“Perhaps you are not used to your own body yet. And you certainly should not be eating fruit; your aura is stained. Your current body is clearly a meat-eater. Without meat you will not live long.” She said this, but her mind was stuck on “The desert is alive...” from when he had started talking about it.
“Tell me, how did this happen to me? I begged the gods so much to spare me, I begged the Venar so much to deliver me from death! Why did the Venar abandon me?” He spoke fast, in a tearful tone.
“You have just answered yourself, Valir. You asked the gods to deliver you from death, and one of them answered you, giving you a new chance. Your new body is your new chance. You were given a new body. The blessings that fall upon us are not always what we wish for, but they are always useful for something.”
“I am useful for nothing but scaring people, Most Reverend. I am very grateful for your words and for helping me understand, but please...” He flickered once more. “Kill me!” His voice came tripled, like three people speaking at once, one lagging behind the others.
“No, you cannot die yet, Valir. You must guide us to the desert. You will help us find the entity that did this to you. We must put an end to any evil that torments nature; it is the least we can do out of respect for the forces that shaped the universe!” Ariane was firm. In her mind a plan was beginning to take shape; for some reason she could not forget the driver’s song, and now almost everything was connecting.
“How will I do that? I can barely walk,” he complained. “I feel the desert. You would never understand that thing. It is not a place, it was never a place... the desert is much more than men and Numari can see!”
“The desert is a Venar,” she finished for him. “Right, Valir?”
“Beyond compare with anything else. A god of the sands.” He flickered one last time and vanished.
For a few minutes Ariane stayed there, reflecting on the old song the driver had sung. Remembering the Venar who cursed men out of pure hatred. Could the desert be a Venar of pure hatred? How far did its power reach? She wanted to cry. She was afraid, definitely afraid, but she needed to return to her body and explain everything to the commander. Humans had never been good to nature, but now that the harm was done, she had to keep nature pure. A Venar of hatred could not be allowed to live. How do you kill a god?
So, did you like it? You know, I wrote at least 4 sequels to this story, and none of them satisfied me. Right now I am quite torn about whether to continue this story, this world. Does anyone else want that?
I also had another idea, a bolder one, but maybe it will turn out to be a more fun path. I have been thinking: what if Anayr became a setting for tabletop RPG campaigns?
Anyway, I have things to think about and decisions to make.
See you next time, explorers!
Originally published in Prosa & Pixel, on Substack. See it on Substack · Subscribe to Prosa & Pixel · All issues