and horror in the halls of stone
The night has been uneventful; a still, hot night where the heat is so oppressive Jahin can hardly breath--the kind of night where sleep is a brief respite from the unforgiving sun in these summer months. Even the linen curtains remain motionless. The air is heavy and humid. Jahin lies awake, distinctly aware of the lack of a breeze in the room. Sahar lies coiled in the windowsill, aglow with moonlight.
When the earth suddenly begins to tilt and sway beneath his hooves, Jahin feels like he is intoxicated, teetering in a surreal abstract of reality diluted heavily by drink. But Jahin has had nothing to drink this particular night, as he often refrains from such activities out of habit (he dislikes feeling out of control and despises the haze that clouds his mind and slows his reaction time).
He rises unsteadily from his simple straw bed in his personal quarters, attempting to discern whether this drunken feeling is something he is imagining or if the earth really is roiling beneath his hooves. Sahar hisses, voicing her immense displeasure at being jostled about. Egg is cracking, she says. He isn't sure what that means--she often speaks phrases and sentences that he can't understand, but he guesses that she is remembering the traumatic night when he found her and the remains of her brothers and sisters crushed by wild dogs. He stands still for a moment, ears flickering attentively, nostrils flaring.
The silence is incredibly pregnant and soon gives away to the rattle of pebbles clattering across the sandstone hewn tiles. The lanterns hung on the walls flicker weakly as the glass clinks against the walls. Just as he thinks So I’m not imagining it, there is a frantic rap-rap-rap at his doors. Sahar coils around his leg and across his withers to nestle in the wild threads of his flame-like mane. He crosses the distance unsteadily, moving awkwardly like a newborn foal amid the groaning of the earth as it bucks and sways beneath him.
He flings open the door to a young soldier with wide, fearful eyes. He recognizes the filly as a trainee from some of his night shifts. The ground quakes in earnest this time and Jahin and the young cadet fall to their knees. Jahin grits his teeth, struggling to regain his balance. A lantern crashes to the ground; wails of desperation and fear are carried through the open window in a sudden breeze that makes the linen curtains swell and recede like a ghost.
“Follow me, sir,” the cadet gasps at last, struggling to remain standing. Jahin nods, grabs his spear from above the doorway, and motions for her to lead the way.
To say Jahin is not prepared for the sight that greets him is an understatement. Sahar peers between his ears, curious and excited by the commotion of the city and the shuddering moans of the earth beneath their hooves. Cracked egg, she repeats with earnest.
“It just--it just opened up, sir,” the cadet says in a trembling voice, eyes wide and nostrils flaring in alarm. “My brother is down there! It--it swallowed him!” She can’t keep the tears from falling, but Jahin commends her for her efforts. Indeed, the earth has opened like the jaws of hell, seeking to devour and swallow Solterra whole into the black abyss yawning below.
“I’ll find him. But I need someone else, someone with a lantern and yarn. Bring me a volunteer.” The young cadet bravely steps forward, but Jahin shakes his head. In a soft, gentle voice he says “Not you. I can’t take a trainee. Find someone from the walls.” He cannot find the words to lie and tell the young soldier that he will bring her brother back alive, when in all likelihood her brother has been crushed in the onslaught of rubble and buildings collapsing into the rift. She nods frantically and gallops away, her hooves clattering lightly through the churning rubble like a deer.
Jahin stares into the gaping abyss, wondering what might be awaiting him in the deep below. Jahin must have lots of yarn, Sahar hisses in his ear, lots and lots of yarn.
J A H I N
look at last on meadows green
and trees and hills they long have known
When the earth suddenly begins to tilt and sway beneath his hooves, Jahin feels like he is intoxicated, teetering in a surreal abstract of reality diluted heavily by drink. But Jahin has had nothing to drink this particular night, as he often refrains from such activities out of habit (he dislikes feeling out of control and despises the haze that clouds his mind and slows his reaction time).
He rises unsteadily from his simple straw bed in his personal quarters, attempting to discern whether this drunken feeling is something he is imagining or if the earth really is roiling beneath his hooves. Sahar hisses, voicing her immense displeasure at being jostled about. Egg is cracking, she says. He isn't sure what that means--she often speaks phrases and sentences that he can't understand, but he guesses that she is remembering the traumatic night when he found her and the remains of her brothers and sisters crushed by wild dogs. He stands still for a moment, ears flickering attentively, nostrils flaring.
The silence is incredibly pregnant and soon gives away to the rattle of pebbles clattering across the sandstone hewn tiles. The lanterns hung on the walls flicker weakly as the glass clinks against the walls. Just as he thinks So I’m not imagining it, there is a frantic rap-rap-rap at his doors. Sahar coils around his leg and across his withers to nestle in the wild threads of his flame-like mane. He crosses the distance unsteadily, moving awkwardly like a newborn foal amid the groaning of the earth as it bucks and sways beneath him.
He flings open the door to a young soldier with wide, fearful eyes. He recognizes the filly as a trainee from some of his night shifts. The ground quakes in earnest this time and Jahin and the young cadet fall to their knees. Jahin grits his teeth, struggling to regain his balance. A lantern crashes to the ground; wails of desperation and fear are carried through the open window in a sudden breeze that makes the linen curtains swell and recede like a ghost.
“Follow me, sir,” the cadet gasps at last, struggling to remain standing. Jahin nods, grabs his spear from above the doorway, and motions for her to lead the way.
To say Jahin is not prepared for the sight that greets him is an understatement. Sahar peers between his ears, curious and excited by the commotion of the city and the shuddering moans of the earth beneath their hooves. Cracked egg, she repeats with earnest.
“It just--it just opened up, sir,” the cadet says in a trembling voice, eyes wide and nostrils flaring in alarm. “My brother is down there! It--it swallowed him!” She can’t keep the tears from falling, but Jahin commends her for her efforts. Indeed, the earth has opened like the jaws of hell, seeking to devour and swallow Solterra whole into the black abyss yawning below.
“I’ll find him. But I need someone else, someone with a lantern and yarn. Bring me a volunteer.” The young cadet bravely steps forward, but Jahin shakes his head. In a soft, gentle voice he says “Not you. I can’t take a trainee. Find someone from the walls.” He cannot find the words to lie and tell the young soldier that he will bring her brother back alive, when in all likelihood her brother has been crushed in the onslaught of rubble and buildings collapsing into the rift. She nods frantically and gallops away, her hooves clattering lightly through the churning rubble like a deer.
Jahin stares into the gaping abyss, wondering what might be awaiting him in the deep below. Jahin must have lots of yarn, Sahar hisses in his ear, lots and lots of yarn.
look at last on meadows green
and trees and hills they long have known
