Revaramek the Resplendent - Chapter One Hundred Thirty One (Patreon)

The more the years passed, the harder it became for Etchka and Rain to remember the finer details of their past life. The broad strokes were still there, and they still remembered why they lived again. But it was if their minds were actively trying to let go of another lifetime’s memories. Etchka half wondered if his shaping was following some unspoken command, trying to hide things away again.

Despite Etchka’s great power, his body remained vulnerable. He bled, and he felt pain. Just as the tribe could only rely upon his healing for grave injuries, so too did Etchka force himself to heal naturally. Once, while carving wood, he grew distracted and cut himself deeply enough to see the bones of a finger. He asked Rain to stitch him up, and suffered the pain of an extended recovery. Another time, in a drunken, playful sparring match with Rain, she landed her knee directly between his legs. It took him a good twenty minutes to pick himself up off the sand, and it took her even longer to stop laughing and apologizing.

Etchka could not help but wonder who, or what, he truly was. How was it that he could end the entire world and start it anew, yet still suffer the wounds and pain of mortality? The memories that drifted into his dreams offered only more confusion. He dreamt of worlds that could not exist, and of life springing forth from barren sand, borne upon his breath. In his waking hours, the dreams faded from his mind, like morning mist beneath the sun’s glare.

From time to time, Etchka longed for the certainty found in dreams. Everything was so simply, there. There was no confusion in his dreams. In his slumbering mind, he was God, and the world was his creation. Yet, no matter how true a thing seemed while asleep, its falsehood was exposed upon waking. Whenever he opened his eyes, he could never recall why he began life in the empty desert, let alone why he chose to live amongst them.

Or had he? Was that truly him?

The further the dreams faded each day, the harder it was for Etchka to grasp the truth of them. Somedays, Etchka wondered if he was but a vessel for a dreaming god. Exhausted from creating worlds and life, perhaps the god himself now slumbered, and dreamt of living among his creations. If so, what happened when Etchka slumbered? Was that when the god awoke? Perhaps, while Etchka slept, that same god was building life anew in another world, in another desert.

Who was the dream, and who the dreamer?

Etchka saw more than just the birth of the desert in his visions. Some nights, he glimpsed far more wondrous things. Etchka witnessed great cities built of stone and steel, of villages hewn from immense trees that covered the land, of rivers too wide to see across, plied by great boats laden with the populations of entire villages. He saw vast marshes, redolent with water and reed. And he saw humans, cutting holes between existences, disturbing spheres they were never meant to know.

Rain often asked about his dreams. At first, she posed her questions like probing claw tips, poking at his mind and his sanity to make sure both were still intact. Once it was clear he was not suffering any ill effects, his morning tales became a source of wonder to Rain. Etchka held her close after waking, and told her of the incredible realms, seen in his slumber. Rain was enthralled by every detail of every place he saw.

During one such conversation, Rain wondered aloud if Etchka had visited such places in past lives. Curious, Etchka attempted to probe his own mind with his shaping. Yet all he found were black holes, and unseen walls, shielding him from that which he was not meant to know. Etchka found it strange that despite what happened last time, there remained sturdy, undamaged barricades, walling off entire sections of his mind. Had he put them up, when their latest life began? Or had someone else put them there? At Rain’s urging, he left those barriers be.

Soon, Etchka found that by using his shaping, he was able to put images directly into Rain’s head. Through his power Rain saw his dreams as vividly in her waking hours as he did in his sleep. He started by showing her High Priestess Mica in the middle of the night. Mica stood amidst amidst a cluster of urd’thin built from sand, waiting only for life. Rain marveled at every moment of it.

When Etchka withdrew the image from her head, Rain stared at him. Warily, she touched him, then ran her hands along his body, ruffling his fur. She pinched his ear till he yowled, and demanded he do the same to her. In retaliation he did just that. Rain gave a little squeal and shoved his hand away. She rubbed her ear, sore but satisfied she was awake.

From then on, they often spent time at night, exploring his dreams together. They were cautious at first, but as he grew certain that Rain would not lose herself in the images, he immersed her ever more deeply. Over time, Etchka let Rain dream through all his most vivid of slumbering memories.

Etchka showed Rain a great desert, both like and unlike their own. Where High Priestess Mica and the First Chief led their people on a pilgrimage to unite their scattered bloodlines. In time, their first chief gave his life to inspire their people to protect themselves, and their world was saved from Those Who Came Before. The High Priestess took a mate, and together they raised three children. She lived a full, happy life, and died, surrounded by her family.

Rain came to believe that his dreams truly were memories. Not only that, but she believed they provided evidence that all of life was merely part of an endless cycle. In Rain’s mind, all those who lived must die, and all those who died must one day live again. As death balanced life, life must balance death. Rain confessed to him that when her time came, she could only hope to pass on to the next life, in the arms of the one she loved. Etchka held her, reminding her that in a way, she already had. Rain kissed him, and soon their passions grew into an intimate celebration of living another life together.

That night, wreathed in love, dreams, and impossible memories, their child was conceived anew.

Once her pregnancy was known, Etchka took Rain out into the desert at night to celebrate. They danced together on sands painted silver by the moonlight. Only when the sun’s looming gaze brightened the distant sky did they return home to sleep. As they drifted off together, they agreed to keep the name they chose before. Named for the old-tongue word for ‘parable’, their son would again be called Vakaal.

Etchka dreamt more often about their pup. The child was small, with fur a paler gray even than Etchka’s. In some dreams, they lived with tribe. In others, they wandered the desert, alone. Rain was rarely in those dreams. Her absence dismayed Etchka. He dreaded to think what that meant, and dared not give voice to his fears. But the pup was always smiling, and that smile gave Etchka strength. It was as if the pup was already with them, and happy with the life he gave them, no matter its hardships.

Etchka wished for Rain to know their pup, too. To see his smiling face, to experience his radiant joy. And so, he did more than just share his dreams with her. Etchka gently wreathed her slumbering mind with his shaping, and drew her consciousness into his own. The dreams became hers. Soon, it was not Etchka sharing a new life with their happy pup, but Rain.

At first Etchka shared in her dreams, just as she shared in his. But soon the visions grew not only more complex, but more personal. Rain began to hold entire conversations with their pup while she slept. It was almost as if she were not only dreaming about him, but actively communicating with the person he would one day become. It seemed impossible, and yet, if Etchka could peer across many lives, why couldn’t their son?

If Etchka was truly a god made flesh, then who could say what unfathomable power the child might have inherited. In his past life, Etchka also saw visions of the child he never got to know. Vakaal had appeared to him in his dreams and waking hours alike. Sometimes they even spoke. Where once he feared it only a byproduct of his fracturing mind, now it seemed far more profound. If pup had inherited his father’s power, then what was to stop him from calling out across their repeated existences, to embrace those he never got to know?

With that possibility in mind, Etchka withdrew from participating in the dreams. He wished to give Rain and Vakaal privacy, a chance to spend time with one another they might otherwise have been denied. Etchka decided to create a new set of mental barriers, in essence walling off a private dreamscape for Rain and Vakaal. He continued to draw her consciousness into his own whenever she wished, but no longer took part in her dreams. Instead, he shaped himself into simple, peaceful slumber.

Rain and Etchka remained active in their duties for the tribe. Nonetheless, Etchka thought it wise to prepare others to take their places for a while, when the time came. He trained an apprentice to serve as temporary Prime Shaper in his stead. Etchka also selected three of the wisest tribe members to collectively serve as Chief. He hoped that debate amongst the three of them would lead to the shrewdest decisions on the tribe’s behalf.

As Rain’s body swelled, Etchka wished to use his powers to examine their growing child. However, Rain only allowed him under two conditions. He had to promise her that he would not use his shaping to inspect the child again until after he was born. Rain also swore him to let the pregnancy and birth run their natural courses, whatever they may be. Etchka begrudgingly agreed. He gently poured his shaping throughout her body, and was pleased to find both mother and child healthy. The pup was developing just as he should.

Nonetheless, her strange requests left his fur bristled. When his examination was complete, Etchka pull Rain close. He held her tenderly, his muzzle bumping hers. Rain’s swollen belly pressed against him. Through it, he felt the faintest stir of life. For a long, silent moment, he stared into Rain’s beautiful dark eyes, wondering what forbidden knowledge she kept hidden deep in her soul.

“Do you know something I don’t?”

Rain only smiled. “We made those decisions together, love. And we decided that some things?” She kissed his muzzle, then rested her head against his shoulder. “Only the mother gets to remember.”

A cold tingle ran down Etchka’s spine. He scarcely even remembered making the choices she meant, much less what they were. Why would they decide to allow Rain to remember more than him? He could not imagine a reason that did not bode ill. But Etchka made a promise, and he intended to keep it. If she did not wish him to examine her with his powers, he would not do so. After all, it was her body and her decision to make. If worst came to worse, he thought, he could always heal her. The idea left a pulsing pain in his head, fading only when he turned his ruminations towards something else.

Etchka asked Rain to at least allow the tribe’s midwives to give her regular examinations. She agreed, and they visited her every few weeks. Rain insisted on privacy, and made Etchka wait outside during every consultation. Afterwards, the midwives explained their findings, and assured him both mother and pup were just fine. Though their reassurances were meant as balm for his worries, instead tickled at some forbidden memory and set him ill at ease.

One day, as the birth drew near, Rain asked the midwives to give his mate a more thorough examination. When they emerged, a somberness hung over them. They were quick to assure him the pup was fine. Yet when he asked about Rain, they hesitated. Instead, one busied herself explaining the herbal medicines they wished for Rain to take, while another made tea with a small amount of Star’s Blessing in it.

Finally, the chief midwife approached him, and took his hand in hers. “Chief Etchka, we have concerns about-”

“What’s wrong?” Etchka’s words came swiftly, and sharply edged with fear. “What did you find? What’s happened to her?”

The midwife flattened her ears, swallowing. “Nothing, yet. But upon giving her a more rigorous examination, we’re worried that the birthing process may prove…” She licked her nose, searching for the right words. “Unusually arduous, for her. She’d like to speak with you, when you’re ready.”

“Of course.” Etchka whimpered, his ears drooping. “But what can be done help?”

“For now?” She waved at the tea being prepared. “Only medicines, to ensure her body is strong, and her blood, plentiful.”

“Her blood?” Etchka shuddered. Some instinctual terror, shrouded in layers of hidden memories, roiled in his mind. “Why-”

“Etchka.” The midwife patted his hand. “My chief. Go see your mate.”

Etchka scowled, his ears pinned. Rain must have asked them not to offer too many specifics. He thanked the midwives for their help, and went to the sleeping chamber where Rain lay on their bed. Worries drifted across Rain’s eyes like clouds over the sun, but when she saw him, she lifted her ears and offered him a comforting smile. Rain sat up and reclined back against a few pillows, then patted the bed next to her.

“What did they learn, Rain?” Etchka hurried over to her, settling down alongside his mate. He put an arm around her shoulder, hugging her against him. “Everyone seems so worried, now.”

“Our pup is fine, Etchka.” Rain took his other hand, and pressed it against her belly. The child inside kicked and wriggled. Rain grimaced, but soon laughed it off. “See? He’s so lively today.”

Old memories echoed in Etchka head. The midwives told him the pup was fine last time, too. “They said that before, too.” Before Rain could reply, Etchka bumped his muzzle against hers. “What about you, Rain?”

Rain took a slow, deep breath, and the cold, haunted look returned to her eyes. She lay her head upon his shoulder, stroking his arm. “You can never let it go, can you”

“Let what go?” Etchka whimpered, cradling her. “What did they tell you?”

Rain tilted her head back, horn tips bumping his jaw. “That I will have trouble birthing our child. And they may be required to…” Rain trailed off, drawing a line across herself with a finger. Tears brimmed in her eyes, and she quickly blinked them away. “Save the pup.”

Etchka sucked in a breath. “What? But…” Etchka worked his jaws a few times, struggling to find the words. His head swam. He grit his jaw, growling. “No. No, Rain. I’ll shape you, before the birth. Make sure it’s easy for-”

“No!” Rain spoke the word as a single, sharp bark. She swallowed, and took his hand in hers. “You cannot.”

“Then I’ll heal you as soon as it’s done!” Etchka squeezed her hand. “I’m not going to stand there and let you bleed-”

“No, Etchka.” Rain’s voice was softer this time, but somehow even sharper. “You can’t use your powers, this time. Remember, you promised me.”

Etchka’s ears went flat. “But if your life is in danger-”

“No, Etchka!” Rain snarled, her bangs bared in a sudden flash of anger. Just as quickly, it melted away into sorrowful resignation. “You cannot. That’s when it always goes wrong.”

Etchka stared at her, his heart slowly sinking into icy waters. “How do you know that?”

“You told me, once.” Rain smiled, a look as filled with love as it was with pain. “And so did our Vakaal.” She sighed, nuzzling against his neck. “In my dreams. That when you heal me, with your powers? That’s when it always goes wrong. And you once told me, that you decide when this is over. And every time, you always decide to heal me, and it always goes wrong.” She took a shuddering breath, kissing him. “So this time, promise me, Etchka. No powers. Whatever happens, you let it happen. This time, let our poor star finally shine.”

“But, Rain…”

“Promise me!” Rain squeezed his hand tightly.

Etchka managed only a trembling whimper. He closed his eyes, and lay his head against hers. “I promise, Rain. I promise.”