Part II: Death of the baku

The baku was curled up on his doorstep softly purring. It was a wet, weighted purr as though something was caught in its throat aching to escape. About the size of a small dog this great mythic beast stopped Jhlen in his tracks. The gray wrinkled elephants head, tusks worn ivory, trunk languidly flailing about. Matted, dirty brown fur. Feet tipped with tiger's claws. Ox tail silent. The beast smelled as of cinnamon mixed with the smell of leaves after a light rainfall.

"Tlashi Ma Nishan", uttered Jhlen. All of the great mythic beast spoke the Shinning tongue, the first language. Very few humans spoke it nowadays thus the doings of mythic beast appeared so incomprehensible to man. Jhlen, being a brother of the Brotherhood of the Purple Gourd had learned the language as part of his initiation. He simply greeted the great beast before he realized that he knew this particular baku for it was the same one who he called upon years earlier to devour all of his dreams. The same one who he had petitioned one moon ago to return all of his dreams..and nightmares.

Baku were often called upon to devour nightmares. It was not unheard of for parents to call to them at nightfall to sup on the nightmares of their children so that babies could sleep peacefully through the night. Baku grew fat this way and their hunger sated.

baku baku baaaaku

something something for you

duppy, hairy men, waitu

baku baku fooooor youⁱ

After his many trials and wars Jhlen had called upon a baku to devour his nightmares that scarred his sleep each night. In desperation he asked the baku to devour all of his dreams so that he wouldn't be tempted to go forth and do deeds of renown which always ended as nightmares in the end. Yet with this coming Fall Jhlen had become restless and petitioned through the ethers for the return of his dreams. He awoke sweating inspiration one night, hurting his stomach from laughter, crying because he saw things he swore he would forget.

When Jhlen opened his door the baku followed him inside his rest yet he noticed it hobbled and upon a closer look the creature's frame appeared emaciated. There was no wound. It's ichor wasn't spilling. Jhlen knew that it could only mean one thing. It was dying of hunger. Baku didn't just survive on eating dreams. They also ate steel. So when bloodshed and war awoke in the world baku started dying as men constructed weapons of war.

"Njen Rq Almed" purred the ancient beast. "You are called to duty once again".

Jhlen started to shiver because he almost knew what was coming next.

"Qwed Sjan Maal Yhalutemp". "You must wield the three weapons again". "Ni Stemp a Azanium" "And go West to Azanium".

The shadows that the baku cast appeared to be forming living glyphs on the as the baku spoke. Jhlen only had one copper lantern lighting the room. It spit occasionally as melted wax touched the metal frame. He sat slumped on a bed rolled of Cyresean carpets. His hands held his face as his body grew heavier as though it was a root burying itself into the ground. And when he took his face out of his hands the baku had breathed its last breath.

iS'rn lullybye. Duppy is a ghost. Hairymen are small forest primates that kidnap children, and a Waitu is a living shadow.

Part XIII: The Jali

"Come Reignsheer ibn Qal Jali, sing for the us some great tale of Qi'ra or possibly the 100 isles of Dnashar," boomed Ihlen Seeradiant, father of Jhlen.

Reignsheer was still quite winded. He had walked several miles to get to S'rn finally pulling himself to the second level apartment of Ihlen Seeradiant which overlooked the cove. The apartment was of the blue shale rock that glistened when polished. Ihlen Seeradiant had a huge terrace and was entertaining several guests.

Reingsheer hailed from Qi'ra and was the bosom bound brother to Jhlen in various ways. In addition he was also initiated into the Brotherhood of the Purple Gourd at the same time as Jhlen. Reingsheer finally was a jali of Qi'ra, a bearer of their sacred history.

Sitting near the edge of the terrace he let the ocean's air brush against his back taking in the wisps of the tides. It was slightly cooler here in S'rn. Reingsheer was diligent though and remembered to layer his black cotton garments. Pulling back his hood one could see burn marks on his right cheek. If one was to gaze down at his hands as he tuned his kora one could see fire scars along the back of them.

Each jali in Qi'ra was required to go into the forest to gather the wood from the sacred baobab trees. When it came time for Reingsheer to do the same he found the grove lit afire from P'lonian rebels. He dove headfirst into the forest to still gather wood to construct his kora. The grove survived and his his name grew in renown even before he sung his first song to the public.

He started plucking the cords of the kora, delivering the bassline, declaring his lineage from the first Jali's of Qi'ra. He sped it up a little, sprinkled it with improvisation as though he was dropping metal snowflakes.

He sang of the founding of rebellion of Qi'ra where the Nali, his people from the 100 islands of Dnashar were brought as slaves to the city of Budrah by the P'lonians during the first P'lonian war. Where his people overcame their slave masters and founded the great city-state of Qi'ra. That rebellion initiated the second P'lonian War. Looking over his audience Reingsheer could tell that they were pleased. Many of them were native Qi'ranians. In fact Ihlsen Seeradiant was a veteran of the second P'lonian war.

Though he loved to carry Qi'ran with him wherever he traveled he didn't expect to travel to S'rn this soon. If only that woman didn't give him that message to deliver to Jhlen. If only he didn't have to be the bearer. He turned his mind inward to Qi'ran to better release it's songs.

Time Line

This is the timeline of the world of Daybreaker. It will expand as the story develops. I haven't developed the 'calendar' yet so things are just in chronological order without 'dates'.

Fall of the legendary City-State of Nshantla
Founding of the Barian Empire
Legendary founding of the 3 territories Mysan, Klore and Cinarvin
Founding of the Confederacy of Tla'sorian
Fall of the Barian Empire
Dynasties of the Merchant Kings
Post Merchant King dark ages
Post Merchant King era of Light
First P'lonian War
Second P'lonian War
Battle of Narib

X: She: Dasha

When the worship of the earth mother Rhy fell to the waste side all that was left of her lofty name were small groves where the juniper trees pushed the sky and uchuva berries littered the grounds. Many of her litanies became nursery rhymes while forms of her many titles became names of the young girls in S'rn. Ana'sren, little sapling. N'ila'han, spring faun. Mara, mother of sparrows.

Though her priestess forgot her worship they didn't forget their oath to her. The dashas kept the groves immaculate, keeping their pledges of virginity sealing their bodies. Yet the dashas were not cloistered nuns. Many took the rite of kyshan becoming the celibate wives of soldiers. A man pledged to war was not allowed to start a family in many cities, including S'rn. His duty to death had to be completed before his duty to life was to begin. In that bridge stood the dasha. When he returned from fields of ruptured entrails and rust blood rivers she stood at the gate of the grove to offer her Dan, solider husband, solace. All acts of valor against the oncoming darkness were done in the dasha's name.

And Zahra, dasha to her dan Jhlem, could only wonder at this moment what was milling in his mind.

Jhlem always noticed Zahra. She was his dasha. Her walking into the grove at an early age loving the shade under the juniper tree. Her left hand pierced with needles made of sea shells giving her hand small measured movements found attractive in S'rn. Fingers stopping thoughts in amber. He swore she smelled the baku's last breath upon his face. He poured out the whole story soaking her hair. She so clearly saw his seven wounds scintillating on ethereal horizons.

"They made you a duppy Jhlem."

He knew that Zahra didn't know who 'they' were. Neither did he. The answer was in the West.

Part IX: Candor

Jhlem broke through the headache fogginess cracking the thin film sealing his eye lids. It took him a moment to realize that he was laying on his stomach. Scanning the room he saw scrolls tumbling of a bookshelf, a small table with a decanter of water and an assortment of herbs. Various porcelain figurines lined the window which he could not make out from this distance. Zahra's quarters.



"Tell me that I'm not naked."

"You're not naked."

"Am I naked?"

"You're naked."

"Zahra! Towel! Towel!"

Zahra's laugh was light and fragrant as she skipped across the room to grab an towel for Jhlen.

"And no cracks about my ass!"

"No cracks....you know I should say something witty right here."

"TOWEL!"

"Calm down. I had to check your etheric body, your astral shell and your meridians. There are minute scars all over them? Vleks. Those things that were chasing you. They're astral mites. They attach theirselves to some people and just nibble right out of their sight. No one usually ever sees them. They just manifest as a person not being able to focus on things. Usually someone like you isn't ever effected by them. Yet now I think that this is the reason why you haven't been able to concentrate this whole time. What is worse is that I think someone actually attached them to you. Vleks NEVER swarm. The only way they swarm is if someone feeds them a mixture of a target's blood and etheric fluid."

"Someone or something is after me."

"Someone or something is after you."

When Zahra repeated the phrase it wasn't mocking. It just emphasized the seriousness of the matter. It was only then that he noticed the slightly chilled breeze coming in the window. He saw the look on his dasha's face as if waiting for him to say something profound. All Jhlem could do was feel tired from the burden of his seven wounds pulling him toward the ground.

Part VIII: At the gates of the garden

A person's breathing tattletales on them. By watching the rise and fall of their chest, shape of their mouth, rhythm, and shape of their diaphragm a person with keen sight can tell if they are in love, afflicted with asthma, telling a lie...or if their life force is being assaulted by extra-planar vermin.

"Vleks!"

Zahra studied enough taxidermy of the exotic sort to know that exactly after seeing Jhlem's clipped breaths what was happening. Dashing to her quarters she left Jhlem. His weighted eyes seemed to become more heavy as she disappeared from his sight. The vleks kept piercing in and out of his side vision like a fractured picture. There was not one space or moment that he could hold. Attention span zero and then he became...cold.

Zahra had returned and splashed a picture of well water on him while scrubbing his skin with pink salt.

"Get off of him damn parasites."

Most insects in general hate salt. Yet vleks existed on more than one plane of existence. That is why the pink salt from Anda was needed. The crystal formations disrupted the phase mark of the dimensions. As Zahra scoured his skin the vleks abated scurrying off. Zahra salted the ground around the portal to the garden and the gate itself to keep them at bay. Looking down at Jhlem she noticed that he had fallen unconscious leaving her to figure out how to move his body from here to somewhere more comfortable. Jerk.

Part VII: The Vleks

It overtook him like delirium. The path to the grove of Rhy was a short one. One that he had walked a million times. Nothing unique. Nothing outstanding. Yet this time...what was the skittering he kept hearing just out of earshot? The streets were fairly clear. It was mid morning and most people were at their jobs. The crisp autumn air perched itself squarely on his shoulders. He needed to see his dasha. He needed to hear her.

The weight on his shadow...something was following him. Yet everytime he turned around there was no one there except a panhandler here, a waterbearer there, a mother and child, the constable. Gazing right...gazing left...he saw nothing yet Jhlem heard the skittering grow stronger. A growing nausea blossomed in his stomach. Then he saw it out of the corner of his eye scuttling across a nearby wall. Some feral insect like creature keeping pace with him. When looking directly at the thing it disappeared. It hovered only in his peripheral sight. And to his other side on the other wall across the street there was another one. He didn't know how many were just outside of his sight line.

Or how many were really close to him.

As he picked up speed they did also. He felt small pricks upon his skin wondering if he was really covered in them. Each one the size of a small cat with their carapace glistening slimy red, grey and black. Sweat dripped from his hair onto his forehead and stung his eyes. He was loosing his way on paths that he knew intimately. Stumbling he was afraid that he would be stopped by the constable, being mistaken for someone who had ingested too much plum wine.

No one else seemed to see them. Ravenous they appeared to only converge on him, so he ran faster. The sweat, the fever, the nausea worked his body until the point that his legs couldn't keep rhythm with his stride. Collapsing Jhlen curled into a ball to protect himself from the anticipated onslaught. He grew even more afraid when he realized he was half whimpering. At that point her timbrel broke the air.

"Jhlem, what you doing on the ground like that?"

Oh Zahra.