The War and What Came After

by NorsePony

Chapter 2

The chosen ones trained under the elders of the great free forest, learning to use the arts of forest and flame to mend or destroy, to grow or kill. After an early lesson on using Ano’s power to start a campfire, Ghost looked up from the tiny blaze she had created and frowned at the elder who was the disciples’ teacher that day.

The elder smiled, for even after such a short time, all the elders recognized that frown as the precursor to a question from the young doe. Ghost’s frown deepened as the thought came to a head, and she said, “Why do we not use Ano’s touch to burn the Others in their beds?”

The elder shook her head, setting the twigs depending from the points of her antlers to rattling gently. “Would that we could, child. The gods are powerful, but that power has limits.” The twigs rattled again. “Harsh limits. The gods may only touch the world directly through those of us who have learned to hear them. And—”

Ghost tossed her head impatiently. “So we march on the Others to bring Ano close enough to burn them!”

“And,” the elder continued, ignoring the interruption, “the gods can only affect that which is theirs. The People are theirs. The forest is theirs. The hills are theirs.” She fixed Ghost with a stare. “The Others are not theirs. Anything the Others have made is not theirs. The earth the Others have taken is not theirs.” Her stare sharpened, becoming as potent as any warrior’s. “That is why we use the gods’ power to defend the forest and the hills, and to shape weapons to carry out of the People’s earth and into the Other’s. A spear hardened by Ano kills just as well on the plains as it does in the forest.”

Ghost’s face fell for a moment, but her chin came up and she nodded firmly to the elder. “Then continue the lesson, for I must learn. I will need to make many spears before my work is done.”

Ghost was eager to learn the ways of war, and attended closely upon the lessons as the weeks became months, but had little regard for studying the arts of life, saying that they held no purpose for her. She learned quickly. Too quickly, some whispered, and others answered that she was not truly being trained by the elders, but by Ano himself.

Both elder and disciple came to hold themselves apart from Ghost, fearing her single-mindedness and her ravenous skill with the touch of the god of flame. But one doe in the camp was different. Her name was Ember, and she was another of the elders’ disciples, fine to look at, tall and muscular with a red cast to her tawny coat. Directly after meeting Ghost on that first night of their training, she had stayed close by her side, much to Ghost’s displeasure.

But no matter how Ghost had scowled and threatened, Ember would not be dissuaded. She was Ghost’s opposite in nearly every way—gentle and peaceful, she was hungry to learn the healing arts, the growing and cultivating arts.

In the second month, after days of struggling to coax a sapling to grow under the watchful eye of an elder beloved by Noa, while walking back to the secret village through the last shy rays of sun, Ghost had let her frustration run out onto Ember. She had spun to face her, hot with anger, yelling insults about the uselessness of the growing arts and mocking Ember for her skill—Ember’s sapling had grown to the height of three tent poles in the first day—and stalked a circle around Ember, berating her for being unable to help drive out the Others.

Ember stood before this cascade, unbowed and unmoving. When Ghost’s tirade slowed, Ember’s voice sliced out like a blade, stunning Ghost into silence with a single sentence: “You will kill them, and I will heal the earth after their passing.”

Ghost drew herself up in her shock, then set her jaw, and in the shadows of the forest an observer could have been forgiven for mistaking the one doe for the other, so alike were they in height and form and determined posture. Only their eyes told them apart, Ember’s calm against Ghost’s anger.

Slowly, the anger leached out of those eyes, and at last, Ghost nodded. “I had never before given thought to after,” she said, in a tone of distant revelation. “It is good that you are here to do so.”

She turned for the village without another word, and just as wordlessly, Ember followed.

After that day, they walked side by side rather than ahead and behind. They talked as friends and argued as rivals—more often the latter than the former. And they were inseparable.

Time passed, their training continued, and the eighteenth new moon of their time in the camp of the gods was nearly upon them when Ghost made the twin discoveries which would change everything.

* * *

During the months of training, their mastery had grown rapidly—Ghost was clearly a chosen of Ano, and Ember of Noa. But despite strain, and sweat, and struggle, neither of them could truly grasp the powers of the other god’s domain, despite the elders’ most patient efforts to teach. At first, neither had minded this failing, because they only saw a need for their own god’s side of the stream. But as the months passed, Ghost and Ember wondered at, and dismayed at, the number among their fellow disciples who showed great and growing skill in both gods’ realms.

Their long discussions and heated arguments on the matter brought Ghost and Ember to understand, at last, an essential truth which all the elders’ efforts had failed to impress upon them: one cannot pick and choose among the gods’ teachings. If one does not understand how to destroy, or how to make life, then one cannot reach the fullest potential of the opposite, for life and death, and creation and destruction, are inextricably linked. They were each set on true mastery of their favored god’s powers, so that thought was intolerable to them.

So it was that they had come away from the village on a day of rest, seeking to overcome their limitations. It was barely summer, and yet the air was sticky and close around them, even under the cooling shade of the forest canopy. Sweat darkened their coats but went ignored, so focused were they on the lessons. It was Ghost’s turn at teaching, and she paced tight circuits around the hollow stump at the center of the little clearing and Ember, who scowled at the stump as though she could set the tinder inside alight with the force of her stare.

Ember’s antlers feebly flickered red as she muttered ritual phrases half under her breath. A wisp of smoke struggled up through the scalding air, causing Ghost to stop her pacing and look on with the first twitch of a smile. But no lick of flame followed the smoke, and after a moment the smoke itself stopped. Ember’s breath whooshed out of her in a blast of frustration.

“I can’t do it, Ghost. Your advice always makes sense, but when I put it into practice, Ano turns away from me, his power slips through my grasp, no matter how tightly I hold to it.” She cocked her head at Ghost. “What is it?”

Ghost stood straight and predator-alert, with her teeth tugging at her lip and her brow creased in a frown, in the way she had when a thought teased at her mind. Her distant gaze shifted to focus on Ember. “Grasp? Hold?”

Ember blinked back at her, confusion loud on her face. “I— I say the words, I feel Ano’s presence, I reach for his power, take control of it, and push it where I want it. I feel the flame begin, but—”

Ghost’s brow had wrinkled as Ember spoke. She cut her off, her voice harsh. “I am a fool. I did not see it until now. Ano’s power flowed through me so easily that I let the elders’ talk of technique pass over me without truly listening to it. So I failed to understand that the elders were setting us on the wrong course.”

Ember sat as still as a statue. Her surprised blink was her only motion. “Wrong how?”

Ghost resumed pacing around the clearing, her hooves uncharacteristically loud, her movements quick and agitated, speaking to herself. “Why? How could that be? Do they not truly understand Ano’s power? How is that possible?” She stopped and her gaze flicked to Ember. “Ano needs no coercion, no grasping, no holding. The flame waits inside everything, and it is always eager to burn. I need only to show Ano which flames to stoke, and it is done.”

“I— can it truly be so simple?” Ember closed her slack jaw with a snap and stared anew at the stump. Her antlers flickered red, like coals breathed to life. Ember visibly struggled, her lips curling and teeth set. After a long moment of that, her eyes flicked to Ghost. She unset her jaw and her breath joined the hot summer air as she sighed. She relaxed.

Light flared from her antlers, bright enough to cast shadows.

A column of white fire leapt from the stump with a detonation that caused birds all around to take panicked flight. The knot shot out from a knothole low on the trunk, faster than a bullet from a sling, so fast that the air hummed around it as it passed between Ghost and Ember and flew off into the dense forest behind them.

The white flame bloomed up and mushroomed out, flower-like, around the level of the forest canopy. So hot was it that leaves and branches touched by it seemed to wink out of existence, burned instantly to ash. At the edges of the white fire, ordinary red flames ignited amidst the trees.

Ghost stared at the spectacle, satisfaction and horror warring in her breast. Ember sat rigid, her antlers red, her eyes wide, her coat shimmering white in the glow of the fire roaring from the stump. Above, fire crawled through the branches of the canopy, leaping with increasing speed from tree to neighboring tree. Ghost frowned, thinking fast. Just as she decided she would need to intercede between Ember and Ano, though she was not sure how one would accomplish such a thing, Ember’s antlers ceased glowing, becoming ordinary bone once again. The white fire vanished as well, and Ember collapsed onto her side.

Ghost worried for Ember’s health, but the growing forest fire was a more pressing concern. She centered herself, and Ano was with her, his power crackling at the points of her antlers. Casting her mind out, playing her attentions over the outer ring of the spreading fire, she quenched the burning branches and leaves, feeling Ano draw their flames back into the secret space at their hearts. She let go the god, ignoring the feeble fires which were feeding on already-burnt branches, knowing they would die out soon enough, and rushed to Ember’s side.

She threw herself down by Ember, only to find that her friend was already struggling to rise. A relieved gasp choked out of her throat as she bent to help Ember to her hooves. “Are you in pain?”

Ember’s head wobbled in an impatient but exhausted negation. “It was incredible,” she panted as she heaved herself upright, leaning heavily on Ghost’s neck. “Ano was so close I felt I could touch him! He felt like an elder standing at my back guiding my aim. It was different than it’s ever been. The fire was right there when I asked!” She fixed Ghost with an eye burning with excitement. “Is that how it always is for you?”

“That sounds familiar, yes.” A sudden thought struck Ghost. “You . . . with Noa. Is that how it is?”

“Not . . . exactly.” She sobered, leaning hard on Ghost as she struggled for words, lips working soundlessly before giving voice to her thoughts. “Noa is . . . immense. Powerful. Ano is a yearling compared to her. She must respect your strength and control. If you cannot seize her and bend her to your will, she will not obey. But when she obeys, it is strangely similar to Ano, all light and power.” A small, secret smile touched her lips.

Ghost nodded, her gaze distant. “That is much to think on.” Her eyes sharpened, and she nudged Ember, nearly bowling her over in her enthusiasm. “But that is for later. Did you witness the knot’s flight?”

At Ember’s puzzled look, Ghost described what had happened. She concluded with, “It gave me an idea. I wish to try some things. Will you help me?”

Ember regarded Ghost levelly for a moment. She straightened with a grunt to stand upright on her own and nodded. “Always.”

Ghost returned her nod with a grateful smile, and led her out of the clearing.

An hour later, the two does were even sweatier than before, despite frequent gulps from their waterbags. But the work was done–piles of forest debris lay in a neat line to one side of the charred clearing: moss and lichen, shaved bark, small twigs, thicker branches, and stones of various sizes.

Despite her panting, Ghost looked at the piles with pleasure. The dead, hollow stump in the center of the clearing still stood, apparently intact, even after Ember’s white fire, and Ghost inspected it closely. The wood was thick and strong, and proved to be whole and unbroken, the knothole the only gap in the wood aside from the gaping mouth of the stump. Ghost was satisfied at this, and beckoned to Ember. The other doe lurched to her hooves and came.

With a gesture at the knothole, Ghost asked, “Can you close this?”

Ember considered it doubtfully. “The wood is long dead. I will try.” She stood erect, exhaled. Her eyes sharpened, brows drawing down. Her antlers burst into green life.

Ghost had never before noticed how alike Ember’s Noa-calling expression and dueling expression were. Much to think on, indeed.

The knothole glowed green, but faintly. The edges of it quivered and shrank, but slowly, not with the usual sudden speed Ember could coax from Noa. Ghost’s mouth twisted and she began making plans to search the most likely places to find a suitable hollow log and drag it back to the clearing. But even as the thought began, it was shocked from her mind. Ember’s face showed immense strain, then relaxed into placidity. Ghost’s eyes widened as Ember’s antlers glowed both green and red, the colors rippling and mingling like the smoke of two different fires flowing to her points. A crack sounded from the stump, drawing Ghost’s attention. The rim of the knothole came to healthy life, the wood browning and softening. It began tightening in fits and starts, leaving old dead wood behind as it closed. In seconds, the knothole sealed tight and the last spot of living wood faded to deadness.

Ember exhaled. Her antlers winked out as she let go the gods. She weaved, barely staying upright.

Ghost rushed to shore her up as she sagged, but stayed standing. “Incredible, Ember! Both gods at once? Even the elders cannot match that feat!”

Ember shook her head minutely, eyes closed. “Or perhaps they can, but they are wise enough not to. Balancing the gods’ needs— I am drained by it.”

“It worked, at least.”

Ember’s eyes squinted open to see the absence of a knothole, then fell closed again. “That is good. Ano was able to kindle the flame at the heart of the wood, gently and carefully, enough to restore a semblance of life to it. Noa completed the process, turning the semblance of life into true life, and then she was able to shape the living wood. The false life that Ano coaxed out lasted but an instant, so I could not call one god, then the other. I should have worked with you, but I was seized by the idea, and in my hubris . . .” She trailed off with a weak shrug.

Ghost grinned and tapped her antlers to Ember’s in affectionate salute. “Hubris is sometimes rewarded, my friend. I think you have become a master this day.” Her grin widened to show more teeth. “Now I must hurry to catch you.”

Ember’s eyes remained shut as she grinned. “Oh yes? And is this mysterious test part of that?”

“It is. You are not the only one who has been seized with an idea this day.”

“Then you’d best get on with it, hm?”

“I bow to the master’s wisdom.” Ghost considered the piles of kindling, then left Ember’s side to cross the clearing and scoop up a mat of moss with her antlers. She carefully tipped the moss into the mouth of the stump and made sure it covered the bottom. She went back several more times, carrying small loads of tinder, twigs, and full-sized branches, arranging them in a neat cone inside the stump. Finally, she lipped up a small stone and dropped it into the stump to rest atop the unlit campfire. With a satisfied nod, she stepped well back and invited Ano to release the flame hidden in the materials.

A flash of white fire leapt skyward from the stump, accompanied by a thump that shook Ghost’s bones. The stone was a dark flicker among the blaze, there and gone in a blink. Ghost craned her neck, trying to see it through the blackened and denuded branches above. There–a fast-moving fleck against the bright summer sky, impossible to judge the distance. It disappeared, hidden behind the screen of branches, and was gone. Ghost’s grin was equal parts dangerous and pleased.

Ember’s legs were braced wide, holding her upright and steady. She eyed Ghost, and asked, “Well?”

Ghost continued to stare up through the black and naked branches. “Well. The principle seems sound. It wants refinement, however.”

“How, refinement?”

“It lacks accuracy, I think. We need hollow logs of various sizes.”

Ember raised a questioning eyebrow. “Accuracy? What are you creating, O budding master?”

Ghost looked straight across at her. “A way to kill all the Others.” Her grin was back, wide and hungry and gleaming bright as Ano’s unleashed fire.

Ember swallowed against a throat gone suddenly dry. “Oh.”

Comments

[Lurks-no-More]

Ghost and Ember are terrifying, each in their own way. Yet they are also sympathetic, because you show us the reasons for their anger and hatred of the Others. And now they are inventing firearms!

[ArrowEmbers]

It makes no sense..... GODS? Deer killing ponays? Not only that but it's a bore, don't think me rude though.