"The Theft of Heaven" -- Act 3

Here is the third and final act of my original story "The Theft of Heaven". Act I is posted here and Act II is posted here.

As I post this I think I will be taking a brief respite from posting these tales next Friday, May 16th and may instead post some other thing. Perhaps I will post a sort of appendix, a collection of notes, about “The Theft of Heaven”.

But, fear not dear readers! On Friday May 23rd the tales will continue with the first posting of “The Ruby Bug”! That story will pick up where “The Theft of Heaven” leaves off, so remember to keep checking back to read these thrilling new adventures!

And now I present to you the conclusion of "The Theft of Heaven".

Enjoy,

~ Charles

****************************************************************************

"The Theft of Heaven"

(C) 2008 by Charles Shaver. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author(s) and/or artist(s).

****************************************************************************

ACT III: BLACK TENTACLE STEALS THE STARS

THE THOUSAND FALLING STARS: BLACK TENTACLE STEALS A JEWEL FROM ZINGTAI; THE HEAVENS COLLAPSE; GOGI LEAVES TALIESIN

****************************************************************************

CHAPTER 1

Zom Loa, now also known as Black Tentacle by The Devourer who had made him into an oddity with long, black tentacles where once his legs and feet had been, stood at the peak of Taliesin for three passes of Kalavata and Etain. With each pass, Zom Loa watched Zingtai, judging her speed and height from him. Though he stood at the highest possible point, the butterfly seemed to him awfully out of reach overhead.

Aglina nested near by, watching the stranger cautiously, silently. She ruffled her feathers.

Zom Loa looked to her. "I am not here to harm you," he assured her. "Once I have what I've come for, I shall leave and you may never see or hear from me again."

Aglina shifted in her nest, afraid. She let out a long, slow, mournful call of dissatisfaction.

Zom Loa smiled and looked up once more. Etain's tail came into view and, right behind it, was the forever chasing Kalavata. Zom Loa rocked a bit in apprehension. Day turned to night. Zingtain appeared, happily chatting away at Kalavata, her wings spread across the world in wondrous, twinkling beauty.

A ball of nerves and uncertainty, Zom Loa tested his timing in his mind. His body contracted, his mass of tentacles first pulled in, then stretched out in a grand push against the rocky peak of Taliesin. Zom Loa leapt, his eyes a constant stare upon the one jewel he had chosen. It was an emerald as big as his own chest yet the smallest one he had hope was within his reach. Eight tentacles lashed out. Six caught hold, one slipping away. The mass and speed of Zingtai started to pull him away from the mountain's side, a matter Zom Loa had not considered. Quickly, fiercely, his free tentacles lashed backwards to grab hold of a boulder embedded in the side of Taliesin. Aglina flew away to a safe distance down the mountain and helplessly watched.

Zingtai's wing jerked, Zom Loa's body stretched, the night sky over the world shifted.

Zom Loa cried out, pulling with all his might towards the mountain.

Zingtai cried out, pain burning her wing and agony setting fire to her heart as she watched Kalavata slowly slip away. She wondered at what could keep her from her flight. Looking back, she saw Zom Loa attached to the mountain and to one of her jewels. She cried out with anger, "Let go of me!"

For a brief moment, Zom Loa considered letting go, but memory of death in his family and fear of his own mortality spurred a certain determination within him that likened unto rage. He screamed out nonsensically in simple fury.

Zingtai pulled her wing, afraid.

Zom Loa pulled at her wing, afraid.

The jewel came free, tearing a bot of Zingtai's wing.

"No!" Zingtai cried out. Aglina cried out with her.

Zom Loa fell to the side of the mountain, pulling the enormous emerald close to him. He crashed to the rocky surface as thunder. His tentacles released their hold from both jewel and boulder, the emerald now in Zom Loa's arms. He rolled down the hill before slamming into a rock, ceasing his descent. For a while he lay there crying, happy to finally have the one thing that could end his suffering and bring to him immortality.

Zingtai's flight became erratic, the hole in her wing where the missing emerald had been causing her instability in her flight. She fell from the sky.

The people in the world below watched, wondering as a thousand times a thousand stars fell from the heavens, disappearing from the night sky.

"It is an omen!" many cried.

"Zingtai is dead!" cried others.

Most watched, mouths agape, silently stunned and unsure. One such creature was the mystic fish Xiao-tep the Ankh-fish of 100,000 Sorrows and Beauty. He was a butterfly koi born of Hapi the god of the Nile River and of Lei-zi the goddess of thunder. He stood watching the stars falling overhead, his long fins flowing in a gentle summer night breeze. The ankh he had been born with upon his forehead shimmered with the passing of the stars. In one fin he carried an elaborate, four-bladed spear. About his waist was tied a willow branch.

"Not one or a few stars fall," Xiao-tep said to man nearby, "but all of them."

The man nodded. "Something foul is at hand, but who would steal the heavens? And to what end?"

"I cannot say," answered Xiao-tep. "But this does not bode well."

Zingtai grew smaller, as small as she had been when first she was born from Kalavata's didgeridoo. The stars disappeared with her. She fluttered, floating, struggling to land on Taliesin. She at last came to rest near Aglina. The mourning dove stepped forward, calling to her saddened coos.

Zingtai gasped, afraid. She looked up to see Kalavata flying away without notice to her absence. She cried. Aglina joined in her weeping.

Zom Loa stood, aching. The jewel remained in his arms. He held it there, staring at it.

With the jewel in his arms he stole down Taliesin towards The Devourer's flower. He stepped inside, excepting its embrace. Once more Zom Loa slipped through the flower's bottom and confronted The Devourer face to face.

The Devourer gurgled with laughter. "You have it! You stole a Jewel of Zingtai."

"So I have," smiled Zom Loa.

"Now you must ingest it to be granted immortality."

Zom Loa looked at him curiously, "How do I ingest something half the size of my body?"

"Perhaps a small bit, a chunk would do," said The Devourer. He thought a moment before continuing. "Were I smarter, I would devour you now," confessed the cephalopodic creature, "and keep the jewel for myself."

Zom Loa reeled in horror.

"I won't. As I've said, you're destiny is before you. You will have the chance to summon forth a demon unlike any other and it will cause great catastrophe for The Cosmos and all things. I would gladly give away the chance to own a Jewel of Zingtai to aid such a future."

Zom Loa found little comfort in this.

"Swallow the thing," instructed The Devourer.

Zom Loa was suddenly inside the flower once more as it opened up onto the frozen tundra of the northern lands. As he stepped from the flower, the jewel still in his arms, a small shape in the ice caught his attention. He knelt near it, dug some of it out and found it to be the skull of a walrus. "My dear friend, Tarn," Zom Loa spoke softly. "How long have you waited for me? How long was I gone?"

The winds blew strong and it was then Zom Loa noticed that, while he felt the bitter chill of the land, he was not affected by it as he had once before. He knew then the Devourer had granted him more than a new form.

He remained kneeling and examining the skull a long time, feeling the loss of a friend, wanting to have him back once more. "This is why I did it," said Zom Loa. "To end the suffering of death. Unfair are The Cosmos. Justice does not exist as long as death reigns. Wish that I could have stolen a jewel for you, old friend."

Wanting to remain close to his friend Tarn, wanting to signify his defiance of death and The Cosmos, Zom Loa donned the walrus skull like a hat. The long tusks hung down past his chin. He breathed deep.

He dug through the ice some more and found another bone. With it he hammered upon the Jewel of Zingtai. He hammered again and again with little effect. The bone merely slid off the jewel hit after hit.

Angry and frustrated, Zom Loa slammed the bone into the jewel on last time. The bone broke, splintering into a sharp point. Looking, contemplating, he decided to use the bone one last time. He thrust it downward towards the jewel as a spear. At last a tiny fleck of the jewel broke loose and landed atop the snow and ice. Zom Loa dropped the broken bone and reached for the shard, examining it. He ingested it, swallowing it dry.

He felt a small tingle and nothing more. He wondered if the small bit was enough. Out of options, Zom Loa picked the jewel up in his arms. One by one his black tentacles whipped out, pulling him south.

Zom Loa came to northern people he had stayed with before seeking out The Devourer's flower. They were aghast at the sight of him, horrified by his tentacles and hollow-looking body. Worst of all was the skull of a walrus. There was no sign of the escorts he had come with.

The people screamed, chasing him, shouting hatred and fear. One threw a long fishing spear, launching it into Zom Loa's back. It pierced all the way through and out his chest. Blood trickled from him. He felt the intruder in his chest, but very little pain associated with it. He did not falter nor did he fall. Zom Loa turned back to the people he had been running from, smiled, let the jewel fall to the ground and with great effort removed the spear from his chest. The wound healed over.

He dropped the spear, picked up the jewel and left the northern country without further incident.

Before returning to the kingdom he had started from, Zom Loa buried the jewel, wanting not to share his secrets and treasure with others, even his king. He entered his old kingdom to find his liege dead of a cough. His son Aniabas, one of the children Zom Loa had once told tales to before tucking them away for a night's rest, had taken his father's place as king and was now military trained. Though the people there were as shocked and terrified by Zom Loa's new appearance as the northerns had been, they were not as outwardly repulsed. They recognized him and from that recognition spawned curiosity.

"You have been gone a long time," said the new, young king. "We expected you gone only two years. It has been nearly eight. Why is that?"

Zom Loa told his tale of adventure, but left out the telling of the jewel.

"And how did you come to this new... visage?" asked the king.

Zom Loa explained the tale of The Devourer, but told he had tricked the demon into freeing him instead of eating him. "To do so, I had to convince him I would be his servant, which I never intended. As such," Zom Loa lied, "he granted me new powers and with it this new visage."

The king considered this. "My father did not send you with our kingdom's riches to consort with devilry!" he lashed.

Zom Loa was taken aback.

"The way I see matters, you owe this kingdom a great apology and reperations for falsely representing us by dealing with a demon!"

"But, but... My intentions were always in the interests of your father and his kingdom," Zom Loa lied again.

"It is my kingdom now and I do not appreciate your ilk. You must repay the kingdom the wealth you stole or be sentenced to death!" Armored guards stepped forward at this.

"But I haven't the money!"

"Then you will burn as a witch!" cried the king. He commended his men to capture Zom Loa.

But Zom Loa was quick to react. He ran, slithering swiftly out of the castle. Guards could not catch him and arrows, though they pierced his body, could not slow him. Zom Loa ran to the stables and mounted, side-saddle and bareback, a warhorse there and charged upon it out of the kingdom.

The king gave orders, sending half his armed men after Zom Loa. "Bring him back. Whether he breathes, I care not, but this creature... this Black Tentacle must not be allowed escape from making restitution! His devilry cannot be tolerated!"

Zom Loa rode the horse day and night until it tired and died under him. He left the horse to rot in the sun, wondering how he could return to regain his Jewel of Zingtai.

"I need a warrior of my own," he said to himself as his tentacles kept pulling him further and further from King Aniabas and his pursuing army. "I need a bodyguard. A good one, at that." He wracked his brain for tales of soldiers and warriors. One place came to his mind time and again, a place where the greatest fighters from all over would go to test and challenge their skills. Zom Loa fled for his life, determined to hire a bodyguard for himself at the Peony Teahouse.

****************************************************************************

CHAPTER 2

It was a long time before little Gogi the Grasshopper pulled himself from his hiding spot beneath a rock. He wandered the mountain Taliesin for a long while, alone and thinking. Fear filled him. He did not like seeing The Mountain That Lived in the Sky in such tatters, unattended and uncared for, overgrown.

He traveled to its highest peak, to where the tobacco grew wildly, and sat reminiscing about his lost friend Momoki and the talks they had shared on the side of the mountain. He watched the bright sun dip and disappear, night chasing day. It was all new and wild and at last lonely. He missed Momoki so that he cried while surrounded by the tobacco.

He spoke with a few of his other friends on Taliesin. A sense of the forlorn seemed to rule the once happy, glowing mountain.

Curiosity ruled the world below. Xiao-tep the Ankh-fish was awash with questions as he flew through the sky looking for signs and reasons why the stars had fallen. He flew all through the heavens, meeting people from every part of the world, discussing the matter with everyone he met. No one could give him reason beyond speculation.

"Something must be wrong with Zingtai," said an elder at last. "If she is ill or wounded or troubled, she may fall herself and with her would follow the stars."

"Thank you for your wisdom," he had told the old man. "But where might she have gone?"

The elder considered this. "Perhaps, the closest place to heaven: Taliesin."

Xiao-tep thanked him again and flew off towards The Mountain That Lived in the Sky. He found it horribly overgrown and ugly. He flew beneath the mountain and asked the ants there, "Do you know of Zingtai?"

"Oh, yes!" said one as it scurried off to work. Another took his place, "She is the butterfly with the beautiful wings!" It too disappeared into a small hole as yet another replaced it, "She lives topside now, near Aglina the Mourning Dove."

"Where topside?" he asked.

Another ant answered. "Topside! Topside! Somewhere topside!"

"Thank you," said Xiao-tep and he flew to survey the mountain from above. He dove down when he saw a weeping cherry filled with silkworms and silkmoths. "Have you any knowledge of the whereabouts of Aglina the Mourning Dove?"

The silkworms and silkmoths each shook their heads. One spoke, her voice chiming, "We know of her, of course, but rarely do we go visiting. We stay here and spin our silk unless some great event directly affects us."

Xiao-tep thanked them. He flew high and surveyed the mountain once more. He spied a lone grasshopper journeying an open field alone. He flew down, frightening the little creature with his approach.

Gogi the Grasshopper scurried away from the flying mystic fish with the long and rather dangerous-looking spear.

“I apologize,” called Xiao-tep. “I seek the butterfly Zingtai. Do you know of her?”

Gogi peered at the stranger from behind a single blade of tall grass. He nodded nervously, “She is the b-butterfly that once was the stars.”

Xiao-tep lowered himself closer to Gogi, “I am Xiao-tep the Ankh-fish. I mean you no harm, little one. I have come to understand why the stars have fallen from the sky.”

Gogi, fearing he was being rude by hiding, came around the grass and presented himself before the strange fish. “I-I am Gogi the Grasshopper. I could not tell you the reasons for I do not know myself. The whole world has changed it would seem.”

“So it would seem,” he confirmed. “I was told she was with one named Aglina. How may I find them?”

“O-oh, Aglina! She is the mourning dove that came to perch atop the mountain after…” his small voice trailed off as tears pooled below his eyes. He fought back the sadness and said, “You may find Aglina nesting at the highest peak.”

“Thank you, Gogi,” Xiao-tep said and his voice was so filled with gratitude Gogi almost felt him as a friend. The mystic fish flew high into the air and Gogi watched in awe and wonder.

Xiao-tep flew around the highest peak of Taliesin and finally saw the mourning dove Aglina resting comfortably there. He flew down to her side. "Are you Aglina the Mourning Dove?"

Aglina nodded.

"I am told the butterfly Zingtai may be here with you. Is that true?"

Again Aglina nodded. She lifted her wing to show Xiao-tep a wounded birdsong butterfly sleeping there.

Xiao-tep drew nearer. "Is she well?"

Aglina shook her head.

He decided to allow Zingtai her rest. "Would you mind if I stayed until she awoke?"

Aglina cooed softly, welcoming him, though still suspicious of him and his spear and protective of her friend Zingtai.

He floated nearby, looking down onto the world far below Taliesin. He then had his first good look at Taliesin itself. Though the mountain appeared grotesque at the moment, Xiao-tep could see the beauty hidden under its shaggy surface. He wondered why the mountain was not better cared for. It seemed peaceful here, simply unkempt. "Something great and terrible happened here," he realized.

Aglina cooed sadly, nodding.

Etain's tail feathers ruffled by overhead. Xiao-tep looked up in time to witness Kalavata's head chase by and night wash over them. The swans seemed so close to where Xiao-tep now sat.

Gogi, so filled with curiosity, as was his nature, climbed the side of the mountain while Xiao-tep waited and met him there. Aglina and Xiao-tep both welcomed him. They chatted idly. At last Xiao-tep asked, “What happened here, Gogi?”

Gogi, fighting tears, told Xiao-tep of Momoki’s fall. “he was my greatest friend,” he said as the rush of tears finally broke free.

“I am sorry for your loss,” Xiao-tep consoled.

When Zingtai awoke, she told Xiao-tep of the theft of one of her jewels.

"W-what has brought you here, Xiao-tep?" Gogi blurted with the question, a question he feared asking.

"It would seem I am drawn to sorrow," answered Xiao-tep.

"It would seem, at times, we all are," replied Zingtai.

Xiao-tep told his tale of how he was born, of his fight with his father and of his friendship with Wu Chan Chu and Comet Fox. The three listened in awe.

“How adventurous your life must have been thus far,” Gogi said in awe.

Xiao-tep chuckled. “I suppose so, but in many ways each life is adventurous.”

“No, no!” cried Gogi. “P-please do not curse me with such a statement. I've had all the adventure I can handle in my lifetime.”

Satisfied with knowing who this mystic fish was, Gogi at last parted their company. He wandered Taliesin again until he found himself at the base of the cherry blossom, now a weeping cherry, where the silkworm Szu Ri lived. He slowly climbed the tree. He did not find her there. Instead he found a small white braided cocoon. Not knowing what else to do, he hesitantly knocked at its side. "H-hello? Szu Ri?"

No answer came to him. He sat, watching the sunset and remembering a time when he was not so alone, when the sun never set, when the sky glowed golden at all hours.

Three cycles of Etain and Kalavata's chase passed when the cocoon finally moved not from breeze or Gogi's own frittering. The movement instead came from within.

Slowly, slowly a beautiful white silkmoth crawled out of the cocoon, twinkling as though constantly dusted with a thin layer of glitter.

Gogi backed away. "Szu Ri?" he asked. "I-is that you?"

A voice came from the moth as chimes tinkling on the wind. "It is me, Gogi."

Though he marveled at her beauty, he could not help but say, "Even you have changed."

Szu Ri frowned and drew near him. They stared at one another for a long while. "I-I'm sorry," he said, ashamed of his comment. “You are more beautiful than before.”

Szu Ri blushed. She grabbed his tiny hands. "I'm sorry for your loss," she chimed.

They hugged, the smallest creatures in all creation for a brief moment as one, held together by loss and love.

Gogi stammered, his feet kicking at loose bark on the branch. "Szu Ri, I want to leave Taliesin. It's different now. It's all too different."

She nodded in understanding.

"I do not know how to get back to the world below, though. I nearly killed myself getting here. I fear I may succeed in killing myself trying to get back."

Szu Ri said, "I cold take you."

He looked at her, at her new wings shimmering with their own light. "Would you?"

She nodded.

Szu Ri held little Gogi close as she flew, flitting and fluttering across Taliesin. At first Gogi was filled with fright, as it was his nature to be afraid, but soon his curiosity forced his eyes open to watch the wild grass whipping by in excited rushing motions. He found joy in it and laughed. Szu Ri looked down at him and was pleased, laughing with him.

They neared the edge of Taliesin. Szu Ri breathed deep. Gogi did not look back but quietly called, "Goodbye, Taliesin."

The Mountain That Lived in the Sky fell away from beneath them. It took all of Szu Ri's strength to maintain a steady flight. The ground of the world far below approached quickly. Once more Gogi was afraid and covered his eyes. He felt the moist air of clouds rush by him, bedewing his body. Without looking he cried out, "Szu Ri! Are you well?"

"I'm fine!" she called back, lying, for she was growing tired. But her love for little Gogi gave her strength to carry on.

They came, at last, to a fluttering halt and landed safely, softly in a patch of grass on the world far below Taliesin.

"You can open your eyes now, Gogi," said Szu Ri as she let go of him and landed nearby.

Gogi looked. He was in the world he had been born to and he was safe thanks to Szu Ri. He looked at her. "Thank you."

They spent time together, resting and talking, looking at the world. Gogi wanted to look up, but he knew he would not be able to see Taliesin from here. He looked to Szu Ri instead and found her staring at him. "I-I guess we should say our goodbyes," he told her.

She shook her head. "Oh, little Gogi. I'm not leaving you. I said my goodbyes to Taliesin with you."

"B-but, Szu Ri!"

"Shhh," she hushed him. "Where do we head from here?"

Gogi was nervously wringing his hands together. "It's been a long time, but I think we could make our way in this world." He stared at her. "Are you certain?"

She nodded. "Gogi, I love you."

Gogi blushed.

They stepped away from the patch of grass, hand in hand.

****************************************************************************

CHAPTER 3

Xiao-tep decided to remain on Taleisin. He tended to the wild grass and took care of the mountain's gardens. In time Taleisin grew to its former beauty, though the plants and trees remained barren at certain times throughout the year. Xiao-tep made friends with Aglina and Zingtai. They would smile and laugh together, lounging atop the mountain after Xiao-tep's work had been done. Sometimes they would picnic together there. When Etain would fly overhead they would wave. Xiao-tep and Aglina would also wave as Kalavata flew by. Zingtai, however, did not.

"Does it bother you we wave to him?" Xiao-tep took care in asking. "I have heard from the insects of your love for him."

"No," answered Zingtai. "It does not offend me. I do not wave not because I am hurt by unrequited love. I love him and he does not love me, that is all and I hold no sorrows over that. Nor do I refuse to wave to be rude."

"If I may ask, what reason then have you not to wave?"

Zingtai burst into tears.

"Zingtai, I apologize for asking!" Xiao-tep tried to console her as Aglina glared at him.

"No, it is not you or the question or Kalavata that pains me, Xiao-tep," Zingtai told him. "It is the coming of night that pains me, for with it once came my purpose, my station in the universe. I was the stars for the world below. Now I can no longer be.

"The greatest pain of all," she explained, "is not the loss of a loved one or the mortality of some, though those may be incredible pains. The greatest pain of all is to know your place in the world, to feel its comfort, then to be unable to fulfill it."

Zingtai wept.

Xiao-tep considered this and consoled her. Aglina rested her wing over the wounded butterfly.

Time passed and Xiao-tep became content with his new life as caretaker of Taliesin. He thought back on the time Zingtai spoke of her place in the world. Looking out over the trimmed, cared-for exquisite beauty of Taleisin he thought perhaps he finally knew what she meant.

Within the angled fields, atop the craggy stones and through the apple orchards did Xiao-tep play. He ate the delicious golden and green apples as he would bask in the sun’s warm rays. He slept in the wide, open fields and tended to the gardens. Each day for Xiao-tep was filled with work, play and contentment.

****************************************************************************

EPILOGUE

The Cottonwood Chamber sat empty. Thieves had long ago looted its treasures, leaving it barren of all things but the cottonwood puff spriggans and their trees. The palace was in ruins. The dust of battle had long since settled.

In a far corner sat a pool of blood, a remnant of a demon’s demise. So small was the pool that it could barely be called a pool, not even a puddle. Over time it congealed, concentrated and formed into a tiny, living ruby bug.

A small red and purple imp stole into the chamber. He was Demetrios the Younger, illegitimate son of Demetrios the Quiet, and he came into the chamber by order of Senator Ipiretis. He searched high and low for any form of treasure to be had, especially one of an unnatural state. He found no such trinket.

After a grand and incredibly thorough search, Demetrios at last spotted the ruby bug crawling between the roots of a cottonwood tree. He spied it for a moment, making sure his eyes were not faltering. “It is truly a living ruby!” he proclaimed to himself.

Demetrios the Younger snatched up the small bug, dropped it into a leather pouch and sealed it. He ran from the chamber, delighted at his find and pleased to fulfill the desires of the senator.

****************************************************************************

I hope you all enjoyed "The Theft of Heaven". Remember to look for the continuation of the story in two weeks in the story "The Ruby Bug".

Until then,

~ Charles

"The Theft of Heaven" -- Act 2

Allow me to present Act II of the three-act story "The Theft of Heaven". You can read Act I here. Act III will be posted next Friday, May 9.


"The Theft of Heaven"

(C) 2008 by Charles Shaver. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author(s) and/or artist(s).

****************************************************************************

ACT II: A NEW SADNESS ENTERS THE WORLD

BLACK TENTACLE: KALAVATA CHASES ETAIN; THE NIGHT IS BORN; BLACK TENTACLE SEARCHES FOR IMMORTALITY

****************************************************************************

CHAPTER 1

When next the misty hands of The Cosmos returned to the Mountain That Lived in the Sky, Taliesin had changed. Its great orchards had slowed in blossoming. Apple trees refused to bear fruit but once a year. The cherry blossom branches had grown long, bending, drooping with the weight of loss towards the land far below, becoming weeping cherries. The wild grasses of the fields would grow dark, fading in color and wilting before rising again. Without a caretaker for Taliesin, the plants that did grow did so with incredible zeal. Taliesin became shaggy, overgrown and unwanted.

The hand of The Cosmos swirled about Taliesin for three days and three nights until the Mountain That Lived in the Sky overflowed with moisture, creating three massive waterfalls and thirteen smaller ones, causing immense rains and the first great flood of the world below. Since then, as storms rage in the world below it is at the command of The Cosmos to remind all creatures as lightning strikes and kills, so too Momoki fell from Taliesin and died.

The small patch of mist lowered over Taliesin, breaking into three smaller clouds. So concentrated was the effort of The Cosmos to correct what had happened the small clouds shaped, taking form as three birds. The first became Etain, The Swan of White. She gracefully floated, flapping her wings lightly and landing upon the waters of Twila’s Pond, the pond Twila the Turtle had made with her sorrowful tears when Momoki the Marmoset had fallen from Taliesin.

The second cloud stayed under Taliesin, shaping into Kalavata, The Black Swan of Darkness, his feathers stained by the shadowy underbelly. Kalavata would fly under Taliesin daily, but would always come to visit Etain in Twila’s Pond.

The third cloud, the smallest of the three, became a mourning dove nestled on the tallest peak of Taliesin. Her name was Aglina and her call reminded all of the new sadness brought into the world by Momoki’s fall, a sadness unlike Xiao-tep’s or Twila’s, which was sadness of loss. Rather, it was the sadness of disappointment and duties left unfulfilled.

Each day Kalavata would feel the sadness as he would fly under Taliesin. He spoke of it to Etain. “Why is it I feel so sad? At times it would make me ill?”

“You are representative of the Darkness of life and desire,” Etain explained. “Desire can pull one from the path The Cosmos has set before them.”

“But why can I not find and fulfill my own path?”

“That is the task of all creatures: to find and fulfill their path. The Cosmos merely set them before all of us.”

It was all too much for Kalatava. He shook his head in disagreement. “It is not right.”

Etain pushed forwards through Twila’s Pond with her feet, drawing nearer to Kalavata. “That is the Darkness in you speaking and it is your path to speak of it,” she accepted. She lowered her head, gently nuzzling his neck until he was calmed.

“Thank you,” Kalavata said.

On went this exchange for days until it became routine. Kalavata would question. Etain would soothe. They became good friends and would watch the sun together, as Momoki and Gogi had once, chatting and laughing the time away while, high above them, Aglina would call out her song of sadness.

As Kalavata flew beneath Taliesin one day he heard an odd howling sound. Looking for its source he saw the ants and termites that lived on the bottom of Taliesin, unafraid of falling. The termites were busily chewing through a root of a great tree that grew on the topside of the floating mountain. As the wind passed over the holes the termites had made in the root, it made the howling sound.

“What a beautiful sound!” Kalavata cheered. “Termites, may I have this root when you have hollowed it out?” It was agreed to, the little insects even finishing the root with intricate designs of swans, granting the root to Kalavata as a gifted didgeridoo.

Kalavata returned to Twila’s Pond with the instrument and played it for Etain. So beautiful was the music that, as Kalavata played it, butterflies came to life from its end and fluttered, scattering all over Taliesin and the world below. Etain was overjoyed, laughing with delight. Kalavata then gave the didgeridoo to Etain. “Thank you,” said Etain.

One of the butterflies created by the didgeridoo, a Birdwing called Zingtai, made her home by the pond’s edge where she watched Etain and Kalavata each day. When first she saw Kalavata, she said to herself, “My! Why a wonderful creature! His beauty is unsurpassed! He has the crisp darks of a butterfly, without any color to interrupt it!” Zingtai’s own wings were black with sparkling emerald greens dominating sparse blues and reds along the edge of each of her wings.

The three became fast friends. Zingtai and Etain would often visit one another throughout the day as Kalavata flew below Taliesin. When he returned the three would picnic at the pond’s edge.

Once, while Kalavata was flying below Taliesin, Zingtai confessed to Etain, “I am in love with Kalavata.”

“That is most precious! Does he know?”

Zingtai shook her head. “No. I am unsure how to tell him. I would think I should tell him when we are alone, but we are never alone.”

Etain nodded. “Perhaps tonight I will excuse myself and swim to the other side of the pond, or fly off to visit Aglina atop the mountain.”

“Would you, please?” Zingtai asked excitedly.

“I would,” Etain smiled.

Kalavata returned and was soothed by Etain. Kalavata then looked up and said, “Etain, I love you.”

Etain was shocked more by the timing of the expression than the expression itself. Zingtai stood nearby and heard his words.

“No, no!” Etain cried out. Unknowing what to do, she denied his love, “You do not truly love me!”

“What? You do not have to love me in return, but to question my love is dastardly.” Kalavata’s feelings were so strong that the Darkness within him stirred into anger. He became immediately displeased with Etain, though he loved her.

“Why do you refuse my love?” Kalavata demanded.

“I fear it is not true love,” Etain explained, looking to Zingtai who was now flying away, her face staining with tears.

“But it is!” he raged. He became so angry that Etain backed away. “Why do you seek to get away from me?”

Etain took flight, saying, “You are scaring me!”

Kalavata took flight after her.

Etain grew larger and larger in the hope she could fly faster and farther than Kalavata, hoping to escape his anger and lust. Her wingspan grew from one horizon to another. But Kalavata did the same. He grew larger than the world itself and chased after Etain. Forever they chased, causing the world to grow at first bright, then dark, and creating the cycle of day and night. Mortal sages below began telling of how the cycle was a reminder from The Cosmos that Darkness flows everywhere, even within creatures.

Zingtai cried for eight cycles of the two swans’ flight. Then she decided, “It is not the fault of Etain or Kalavata that he loves her and not me. It is also not my fault that I love him and he does not love me. I wish only happiness. I will remain friends with them.” Zingtai decided then she should remain nearest to Kalavata.

Zingtai took flight, flying after the two swans. She too grew to incredible size in the hope of keeping up with them. She flew under Kalavata, speaking with him as he chased Etain, content with enjoying his company. Her great silky blacks matched those of Kalavata's feathers so that all that could be seen of her were the colors at the tips of her wings, which had became enormous jewels sparkling brightly in the night sky, becoming the stars.

****************************************************************************

CHAPTER 2

In a small province in a small country in a small region of the world was born a boy. His family, of meager means, was happy all the while he was in his mother’s belly and they eagerly awaited his birth. He was born dark-skinned, like his people. He came into the world earlier than expected. His breathing was heavy, rasping, and ceased after his first few minutes of life. The family cried in agony, but soon the child was breathing once more and the family filled with joy. He was named Zom Loa, the Returner.

His tale of death and resurrection caused his family grief as rumors of possible evil sorcery grew. Life became all too difficult for them. They feared for Zom Loa’s life.

As Kalavata passed overhead, under cover of his Darkness, Zom Loa’s mother and grandmother bundled the child in cloth, set him in a basket with a piece of papyrus upon which the child’s name was written and set the basket adrift in a river spilling into the sea.

Little Zom Loa floated in the basket for days, out into the great sea, without nourishment of the body or soul. He faced death for the second time in his brief life. It was another child, a boy, that found Zom Loa’s basket caught among the reeds and of a bank along the brackish waters of an estuary. The boy, Little Epito, ran to tell his mother and father of what he had found and together they retrieved and cared for Zom Loa.

“He is a gift from the gods,” Little Epito’s father would explain, “he needed a home and we were able to take care of him.”

Little Epito and Zom Loa grew together as brothers. Zom Loa’s origins were never hidden from him. “You came from the sea,” he would be told, “steered by the hands of the gods.”

From a young age Zom Loa had an interest in the gods and a touch of curiosity for dark mysteries. He read every text that every traveler would loan him about the gods. As a gift for his ninth birthday, his aunt gave him a small wooden statue of a horned god, its mouth open wide. “I know not which god this is,” she said, “but the man who sold it to me said he was once quite powerful and would watch over the one that keeps this statue.”

Zom Loa would spend every night, as his brother Little Epito would prepare himself for the evening’s rest, staring at the statue with wonder.

“Does it ever speak to you?” Little Epito would ask.

Zom Loa would shake his head. “No. I wish he would.”

Zom Loa would imagine grand adventures for the god statue. He determined that the horned god must have been a devourer of some kind, perhaps an eater of souls, thus explaining his mouth agape. He felt a connection with the horned god for, though he did not know, he had once briefly died and his soul had almost been devoured.

As the boys grew, their parents passed. On the occasion of their passing, Zom Loa bent before the horned statue, wondering if the god was at that moment eating the souls of his adoptive parents.

Little Epito, now not so little, challenged him. “Why do you sit at this moment staring at that ugly thing? Our parents have died.”

Zom Loa shook his head. “I do not know. I do not know why I sit watching this statue. He is as a friend and in times of sadness it would seem proper to seek out friendship.”

“It is not a statue. It is no god. It never was,” said Little Epito. “It is some trinket our aunt paid too much for. She made up the tales she told about it to intrigue a stupid boy. It is a child’s toy!”

This enraged Zom Loa at first, but then he felt some truth in Little Epito’s words. “You are right,” he said. “I am now a man, not a child. My parents have passed. It is time to rid myself of this toy.” Zom Loa picked up the statue, carried it to a field and buried it there. Little Epito followed and watched him. They stood together after the horned god had been buried and watched as the sky turned deep red, dark purple, blue and at last black as Kalavata flew overhead. One by one the starry colors of Zingtai’s wings washed over them, twinkling, winking down at them. The sky flowed with wondrous movement as they stared, contemplating their mortality and loss.

“Why do we die?” Zom Loa asked.

Little Epito shook his head, unknowing. “I wish we did not have to.”

Little Epito left his homeland, as did Zom Loa. They parted peacefully with a brothers’ embrace.

****************************************************************************

CHAPTER 3

Years passed and word came to Zom Loa that his brother had been killed by a foreign disease. Zom Loa wept as he had wept for his parents. He thought of his toy buried in the field he had once worshiped as an idol. He wondered again at the mortality of some creatures.

Though Zom Loa had left his toy and childhood behind, he could not shrug off the thirst for knowledge of the gods. He soon became well acquainted with many tales and found a position as Court Storyteller for a king. Zom Loa would entertain the king, or tuck in the king’s children, or perform for grand audiences with his tales of the gods while quietly seeking tales of immortality.

Zom Loa grew old, wise and content in his position. His mustache grew long at the corners of his mouth, hanging down almost to his chest. His voice took on the creak of a door’s hinge never greased. His hair turned from black to peppery gray. People came from all over to speak with him and watch the spectacle of his tales as much as they came to visit with the king.

A prince from a far off land came for an extended visit. Zom Loa prepared himself for an exceptional tale. He laid out his best silk robe. It appeared black at first, but as he moved and when the light caught the robe just right, the robe glistened deep blues. He wore a headdress like a fez with a fan partially closed on top, all black with the exception of a silver buckle in the shape of a swirling snake at the front. He wore black shoes. In his mind he prepared his favorite tale, a tale he reserved for the most special occasions.

The visiting prince, a teller of tales in his own regard, applauded loudly as Zom Loa’s tale of an immortal koi fish and his friends came to an end. “An incredible performance!” cried the prince. “Your wealth,” he told his host, “reflects in the court that you keep.”

The king thanked the prince for the kindly compliment.

After the night’s reverie, the prince approached Zom Loa and spent the rest of the night outside and under the stars regaling Zom Loa with tales of his own from his land. Zom Loa listened attentively, perfecting in his mind how he would repeat and perform the tales later on other occasions for other people.

A break came in their conversation. They sat quietly reflecting upon the stars and the last tale told. “It would seem,” said the prince, “Zingtai’s colors grow brighter and more beautiful each night.”

Zom Loa nodded, “She is a most beautiful creature.”

“Then you know of Zingtai’s love for Kalavata?”

“There are not many who do not know the tale of Etain, Kalavata and Zingtai.”

The prince stared. “They say a single jewel from Zingtai’s wings can be larger than a man.”

“I can imagine,” said Zom Loa.

“And that if anyone should ever possess one of those jewels, they would become one of the elite Gifted Ones. The would become immortal.”

This jarred Zom Loa. “Indeed?”

“So goes the tale.”

“Where did you hear this tale?” Zom Loa asked.

The prince thought a moment. “Far, far to the north. I believe in the province Angmapour, which has not existed in four or more years since the people overthrew their king. I know not the lay of the land there any more. I’ve not been there since the revolution.”

Zom Loa considered this.

The visiting prince left. Life went on for Zom Loa as usual as the Court Storyteller, but every chance he got he would ask every visitor if they had heard of the Jewels of Zingtai. Too few, however, had ventured north to learn the customs and tales of the people there. Zom Loa grew restless and at last requested of the king to have a year or more to himself to travel and collect more tales, to head north and discover the truth, if any, and origin of this tale.

The king, so pleased with the prestige Zom Loa brought to his court, graciously granted the requested and suggested he pay for Zom Loa’s travels with the kingdom’s coffers.

Zom Loa was set about his way to discover more tales.

As he had suspected, it took a year or more to come to the northern lands. Once there, he was dazzled by the people, their customs and their land. So cold was it there that they forever wore furs and pelts. It snowed nearly every day. Whole communities lived in long huts wherein meetings were held, babies born, and elders spoke of the early days of the world’s creation when few but the select Gifted Ones existed. Zom Loa hired a translator, learned the language himself and listened carefully to all their tales. Most of all, he would don his own furs, which had been gifted as a welcoming present by the benevolent people, and step out into the bitter cold air to watch the great colors dance as ribbons in the night sky as it did no other place in the world.

“I once heard,” he spoke with an elder as they watched the shifting colors above, “that if a mortal were to possess a jewel from Zingtai’s wings he would become an Immortal.”

“Oh, yes,” confirmed the elder. “But you must first get to Zingtai and free it from her wing. No one has ever done it for no mortal could reach so high and no Gifted One would need such a jewel.”

Zom Loa lowered his head. “Have you a tale explaining the reason why mortals die?”

The elder searched his memory. He shook his head. “No, we do not.”

Zom Loa sighed.

Time passed and Zom Loa felt, though he had learned nearly twice the tales he had once known, his trip was unsuccessful. Then while watching the streaking lights again night he thought to ask the elders, “What is farther north? It seems there are more lands.”

The elders grew nervous. One explained, “There are more lands to the north, indeed, but no one ventures there. We are the last people, farthest north. We do not even hunt there.”

“Why not?” asked Zom Loa.

The elder shook his head, “It is much too dangerous. Not only is the weather and land more dangerous, but there are tales of a demon that lives to the north that devours mortals. Perhaps three of the many that have ventured north have returned and yet those three were in agony for the last days of their lives, which were short once they returned.”

The elder’s words stirred the embers of Zom Loa’s mind. The mention of a devouring demon reminded him of his childhood toy. “I must see this northern country,” he said.

The good people denied him, stating they would not show him the way. “It is simply north,” Zom Loa said. “I will go. You have been most hospitable, but I am a visitor and a guest, I am not bound by your laws. I can and will go.”

Zom Loa attempted to hire a guide, but no one would show him the way. He set out alone and on foot, heading north. Days passed, a blizzard came to the lands. The food in his pack did not last. He grew thin with hunger. Yet, through snowy winds and arctic hail he pressed until he came to the side of a small mound of ice. He sat low next to it, using the hill to block some of the wind. There he stayed a long time, wondering if the storm would ever let up. He moved sideways next to the hill and stepped on something soft. A grunting roar of pain cried out. Zom Loa jumped sideways, back the way he came and strained to look more closely. White against white, snow against blubbery flesh he saw a collection of walruses lying snug against the hill, piled next to and on top one another for warmth and protection. One glared at him in pain. Zom Loa knew then he had stepped on the creatures’ flipper. He gave the creature his apologies.

The blizzard weighed on them heavily. Zom Loa looked to the walruses, wondering if any of them, himself or the animals, would survive.

The walrus he had stepped on looked at Zom Loa, waving his flipper as if to tell him to come closer. Zom Loa did so hesitantly, slowly. He crouched lower, closing in on the walrus. The walrus snorted before he lay his head down. Zom Loa curled close to him, their bodies sharing warmth, and covered his face completely with his fur overcoat and hands.

The storm raged. The walrus wiggled closer. Zom Loa bundled up tighter still. He wondered at the strength of will and courage the northern people for living in such harsh lands. His heart raced with thoughts of death. He feared he had come to the northern country seeking immortality only to die. At last, worry and anguish draining him of mettle and the warmth of his blubbery companion soothing him, Zom Loa fell asleep.

The grunt of walruses woke him some time later. Looking up, Zom Loa found the skies still filled with snow, but the storm largely subsided. He looked to the walrus next to him who, in turn, looked at Zom Loa. Their whiskers, both man and creature, were iced over. Their breath came out as steam from their noses. The crisp, cold air hurt Zom Loa’s lungs.

“I will not last here,” he told the walrus.

The walrus turned, waddling away. Zom Loa watched him go some way before the creature stopped with the other walruses.

Curious, Zom Loa got up, his pack empty of supplies but still on his back, and walked in pain towards the group. As he approached them he saw they were inspecting a spot on the ground. Zom Loa bent, looking. There he could see a thin patch of ice. “It must have been open water here before the blizzard. You are seeking a way through the ice?” Zom Loa asked the walrus he had slept near. The walrus stared at him, blinking.

Zom Loa removed his pack, dug through it and produced a small pointed knife. Using it as a pick, he quickly dug a hole through the ice. The walruses grunted and groaned and bellowed their pleasure. As soon as the hole was wide enough the walruses started diving through the hole, one by one. Zom Loa’s walrus was the last to go. He looked at Zom Loa some time before diving in.

Zom Loa stared at the hole for a bit. He looked to the sky. Everything was white. He tried to remember which way was north, but was uncertain of any direction.

The walrus came splashing back through the hole with a mouthful of mollusks. He spit them out at Zom Loa’s feet before diving back into the water.

Zom Loa had helped the walruses. His walrus, in turn, was helping him. He knelt and, using his knife, pried open the mollusks and ate them raw. The walrus returned, gulping down his own fish. Zom Loa looked at him.

“I am Zom Loa. I seek the way north.”

“I am Tarn," spoke the walrus, "I will show you the way, but why do you wish to go north?”

“I seek the demon that devours mortals.”

“Are you ready for your demise?” asked Tarn. “For that creature ushers souls into the lights high above each night.”

Zom Loa shook his head. “I may have known him once, long ago when I was a child.”

Tarn did not understand, but he felt he should help this man who had helped him and his people. “Follow me.”

Together they traveled northward for many days and nights as the snow ceased its torrent.

****************************************************************************

CHAPTER 4

When at last they came to a cliff Tarn said, “Can you see the small color against the white snow and ice at the bottom of this cliff?”

Zom Loa looked, “Yes, I do.”

“That is your Devourer. Get on my back, I can travel faster down to that point than you can walking.”

Zom Loa threw his leg over Tarn. The walrus pushed with his flippers, shifting his weight and sliding down the great cliff’s face. Zom Loa, at first frightened by the speed and height, cheered and laughed all the way down. When they reached the bottom, he dismounted Tarn and said, “I did not know danger could be fun.”

Tarn groaned with laughter.

They walked some small way further and came to the patch of color, a giant purple flower growing out of the ice with long vines lying across the land like serpentine tentacles.

“What an odd place for a weed to grow,” remarked Zom Loa.

“It is no weed,” corrected Tarn. “This is your Devourer.”

“This is the demon?”

“I know not if it is a demon, though I understand how some would call it such. It is the only Devourer, however, anywhere here in the north.”

Zom Loa nodded. He cautiously approached the flower, examining it, stepping over its massive vines atop the ice and roots protruding from under the snow. The flower was purple all over except the edges which were pure gold. The flower was closed and stood twice the height of Zom Loa. As he drew closer, the flower opened as though blossoming.

Zom Loa jumped, looked back at Tarn, then approached closer still. “I am Zom Loa,” he said. “Are you the Devouring Flower?”

The flower said nothing. Zom Loa stepped closer and closer, examining the interior of the flower. One of the vines moved, grabbing him about the waist and pulling him into the its center. Zom Loa screamed as the flower closed around him.

Tarn stood and watched, wondering if Zom Loa had met the fate he had desired. He waited.

Inside the flower, the vine letting go and receding back outside, Zom Loa fought to find an opening. The golden pollen within filled his lungs. He gasped for air. He punched and kicked to find a way out. He produced his knife once more and punctured holes in the flower, sending the plant shivering with pain and rage. The holes Zom Loa punched, however, immediately healed over.

“I do not wish death!” cried out Zom Loa.

“If you did not wish death,” spoke the flower from within, “why did you come to me?”

From outside, Tarn heard and saw nothing, though inside a man fought for his life.

“I came because I thought, perhaps, I once knew you. As a child I had a toy, an idol I thought, of a horned creature with a gaping mouth. I felt certain his place in the universe was to devour something, perhaps souls. When I heard the tale of your existence here in the north, I came to discover you and see for myself if you were the same creature.”

The flower was silent for a moment, unmoving. “I am not the creature you seek, though I am the Devourer of Life. I am but one of the many incarnations of Death, however. I do eat souls, as I will eat yours and send you to my belly to glow in the heavens above.”

“I did not come here to die!” Zom Loa screamed.

“Then why did you come to these lands?”

Zom Loa sighed. “I came seeking immortality. I had heard tales I could find it here in the northern country.”

“You hear many tales, mortal.”

“I am a teller of tales. I collect them and, perhaps foolishly, pursue them.”

Again the Devourer was silent a moment. Zom Loa felt tiny, invisible vines picking at his mind. “Stop it!” cried Zom Loa, grabbing at his temples.

“You are quite wise,” said the Devourer. “Your tales are numerous. Your time is yet to come, though that would usually not stop me from my duty of your demise. You seek one of the stars of the night sky, one of the Jewels of Zingtai. You have heard they can bring immortality.” The Devourer then confirmed, “And immortality they can bring.”

Zom Loa was shocked to hear the truth. “Are you certain?”

“Indeed.”

“The elders of the nearest village, however, said no mortal could reach such heights so as to gain possession of one of the jewels.”

“Mostly that is true,” said The Devourer, “However, a mortal in favor of a Gifted One may meet with success.”

The flower opened beneath Zom Loa. He slipped from the purple plant into a field of darkness and quickly moving stars. It seemed to Zom Loa as if he were standing in the night sky. Out of the darkness moved a shadowy creature. It was almost human and two men tall, its head a black skinned cephalopod with webbed tentacles where chin and mouth would be. Its two eyes glowed iridescent red tinged about the edges with purple. Its body was a dull gray mottled about the shoulders with black spots. Its belly was enormous, fat. Its arms were long extending into three long black tentacles. The creature was mobile by a vast number of black tentacles where legs and feet would be on a man.

Zom Loa stepped back in fear as the creature approached. “What are you? A demon?”

“Not a demon,” said the Devourer in a deep gurgling voice, its mouth tentacles moving as it spoke, “but something different entirely. My history extends farther than that of demons, my family older perhaps than the world itself. I am The Devourer of Souls. This is my realm.”

Zom Loa looked around at the starry field he stood in. “Where is this realm?”

“You are in the realm called Latvica where the dead dance and fight forever, never to rest, glowing as ribbons in the night sky.” The Devourer breathed deep. “I can grant you powers beyond your enlightened imagination. But I must ask you: will you give your will over to me? This means I may call upon you at some point in the future and you must obey my command.”

“If in the end I gain the immortality that I seek, I do indeed,” spoke Zom Loa though he feared betrayal. “Why is it you would help a mere mortal?”

The Devourer’s fat belly swelled and relaxed. “Your path is set before you by The Cosmos. If I were to conduct my usual duty and eat your soul now, the world would go on without notice of your existence. Your name would be lost in the history of your feeble people.” The creature gurgled a bit with laughter, “But if I were to help you, you could fulfill your destiny of unleashing a great demon into the world. Your name will never be forgotten and the demon will cause severe balance shifts within all things as it defies the will of The Cosmos. That, dear mortal, would please me and my kin.”

“But my immortality would be assured?”

“I can provide you the opportunity to gain immortality,” said The Devourer. “Whether you succeed is your own doing.”

“Then I will give myself over to you willingly,” answered Zom Loa. “I will not fail by my own regard.”

The Devourer gurgled with deep laughter. “Good, good.”

Zom Loa once more felt invisible tentacles, this time all about his body, inside and out. He looked at himself in horror as his furs were ripped from him until he stood nude. His favorite robe, the silk that showed blue, appeared about his form but now also showed a field of moving stars much like the field of stars he now stood in, giving him the appearance of being a portal onto the night sky. Great black tentacles grew where once his feet and legs were and they smoked as smoldering embers in a campfire. He felt healthier than he had in years.

Zom Loa looked at The Devourer. “Am I immortal?”

The Devourer gurgled out laughter. “So focused is your mind. No, you must steal a Jewel of Zingtai for your immortality, but with your new form your chances of doing so are far greater. Go now, fulfill your role and release the demon. Become the Immortal Black Tentacle! Return when you have the Jewel of Zingtai!”

Zom Loa was inside the purple flower once more, the starry sky and the Devourer gone from his vision. The flower opened not in a plain of ice, but on a field of wild grass. His tentacles lurched out, pulling him away from the flower. The flower closed behind him. He looked all about. Before him stood an incredible, imposing mountain. Behind him was a cliff and, looking down, he discovered the world far below him. Zom Loa was on the Mountain That Lived in the Sky. Zom Loa had been sent by The Devourer to Taliesin.

He turned to look at the mountain once more. Over its peak flew Etain and behind her came Kalavata and the darkness of night. Below Kalavata flew the butterfly Zingtai with her wings twinkling brightly. “If I could climb that peak,” said Zom Loa to himself, “I could perhaps get close enough to grab one of those jewels. I could steal away and become, at last, immortal!”

Zom Loa’s black tentacles whipped out, one after another, stretching and pulling his form toward the mountain.

*****************************************************************

Be sure to check back next Friday for the conclusion of "The Theft of Heaven"!