In the Garden-- Chapter Three

[Hilary]

Here I'm going to post the first chapters of Anzimani's story, tentatively titled In the Garden. Feel free to give editing suggestions and ways to make it better... I need them. Badly. XD

Now, this might be a little confusing, because I am talking about the pheonix Anzimani that I RP with... but at the same time, I'm not. This story isn't based in Furrae, and there aren't any furraes. There are, however, humans, winged humans, and various other happy creatures from my head. This Anzimani has the same Anzimani's reactions and feelings, and even the basic backstory is the same. But there are lots of big differences.

Just to warn you, I change storylines like some people change TV channels. Also, there's gonna be a prologue, but I haven't developed some later characters enough to write it yet. So, yeah, the prologue will probably get put up in the middle of the story... hehe... please don't shoot me.
And I may or may not even finish. I might get bored after chapter one and say, 'Forget this.' I'm just putting this little disclaimer here 'cause I hate feeling obligated to do stuff. So, without further inane rambling...

Chapter One

Dying her hair was Anzimani's least favorite part of her day. She had to cover every inch of it in the black, smelly paste, even though all five and a half feet of it was already as dark as a raven's feathers. Then she had to leave it in for ten minutes, which meant she had ten minutes to get the permanently stain everything in her vicinity. It always inevitably got on her robes, and she had gotten more Reprimands from the head priestess than she could count.

Not that she could count very high—only to seventeen. That was higher than most of the acolytes could count, though. They were only taught up to nine, as that was all they needed for their job at Bak, the daily worship-cave. She had learned the higher numbers by listening in on the boy's morning lessons. She was often late to work because of it, but she wanted to learn.
   
All the girls between five and fifty were acolytes and priestesses at Bak, and most of them liked it. Anzimani was one of the few that found the endless chanting and candle lighting monotonous. It seemed to have so much more meaning for everyone else-- she often wondered if there was something wrong with her, wondered why she couldn't understand the religion the way they did. But she pretended, and that was enough for everyone else.

It had been this way since Anzimani was six. Ever since the demon attack laid waste to their land, killing her father and forcing her people to retreat into the tiny city of Nadia. The only thing protecting them from the outside world of burning sand, unbreathable air, and monsters was a half-magical, half-electric hemisphere that encompassed the city. The head priestess, Shroket, had saved all their lives by forming it when the demons attacked. Shroket always insisted that she only did it through the power of the goddess Naiden'stes, but Anzimani knew that without their holy sorceress, the people of Nadia would have been demon fodder long ago.

A small plip on her shoulder made her look down to see a glob of black running down across her shoulder, leaving a dark, sticky trail on her purple robe. She cursed loudly, bringing her scowling mother, Bodishi, into the room.
 
"Ani! Don't ever let me hear you blaspheme like that again! If someone important heard you, you'd be thrown through the incendiary boundary in a second."
 
Anzimani forced herself to assume a submissive look, which probably made her look like she had indigestion (she didn't do 'submissive.') If her mother noticed, she didn't let on, but continued her verbal assault. "Honestly, if you'd just stop daydreaming, you wouldn't get stains like that, and you'd have no Reprimands at all!"

Anzimani now dropped the submissive/congested look and scowled right back. "If they would just let us dye our hair and then put on our robes, we wouldn't have any problems! But no, we have to do everything in the stupid ritual order! For goodness' sake, what is the point?"

Bodishi gaped at her wordlessly for a moment, then clamped her mouth shut with a clack. "I'm serious, young lady, you keep talking like that and it'll be more than your own stupid head you're putting in danger!" Her expression softened, and she smiled affectionately at her daughter. "Now get the dye out of your hair, dear, and help me with breakfast. You've got to be in Bak in twenty minutes." She bustled off to the counter, where bread was warm and waiting to be sliced.

Anzimani stared after her, brown eyes glaring with a mixture of anger and routine confusion at her Bodishi's frequent mood swings. Ever since she had become pregnant, her mother had ricocheted between the ends of the emotional spectrum. Now that her belly had outgrown a watermelon, the mood changes had been worse than ever.

Anzimani leaned her head over the rough wooden bowl that had been stained black by many mornings of dye, and squeezed the dark, pulpy substance out of her hair. She took the bowl beside it that was full of fresh, clear water and poured it over her head, not caring if she got her robes wet-- they would have time to dry. After toweling her hair, she scrubbed halfheartedly at the stain on her shoulder, then went into the front room to help her mother at the table.

"Care for some melon slices with your toast, dear?" Bodishi asked, holding up the hefty fruit with ease. She went a bit red in the face and set it down a little harder than was necessary on the countertop.
"Mom, you've really got to stop overexerting yourself like that. You're going to the birthing cave tomorrow, after all."
Bodishi patted her belly. "You're right. I've got to think of the little one."

Anzimani rolled the melon over to her side of the table and began to slice it with a large knife. She handed a slice to her mother and was just about to bite into her own when a loud drum sounded, making her jump. "The ten-minute sounding! I'm gonna be late!" She jumped to her feet, pulling on her uniform black slippers and hurriedly brushing her long hair.

"At least take some with you to eat on the way," her mother cajoled, collecting her melon and toast together in a napkin.

"Mom, you know I get cramped up when I eat as I travel." But she took them anyway and tucked the parcel up one long, trailing sleeve. She kissed her mother, then ran to the front door and threw it open. Sun streamed in and she glanced down. The ground spun away below her, miles of empty space down. Anzimani teetered on the threshold for a moment, then jumped into the void.


Chapter Two

For the first few seconds, she allowed herself to fall, enjoying the familiar leaping sensation in her stomach. When she was about halfway down to the ground, she unfurled her great, black-feathered wings and coasted, then flapped them to regain altitude.

She did a loop and looked back at her front door, one of many in the sheer cliff face that overlooked the rest of the city. Among the vines on the stone wall was a mishmash of doors and openings, a collection of pigeonholes that housed the female population of Nadia. The cliff extended south until it met the magical barrier, which the distance reduced to a pinkish haze. In the north, it curved around and formed a C-shape as it followed the contours of the barrier. At the highest, northernmost point of the curve was Bak.

Anzimani looped back around to face forward, and coasted down to get a better look at the ground. A few low buildings were scattered across the cool white sand, interspersed with the occasional boulder or clump of grass. Some were issuing colored puffs of smoke through pipes, and boys were filing into another, entering for another day of school. Anzimani half wished she could join them-- school would be more interesting than what she did all day. But she could only daydream about it, and eavesdrop on the occasional lesson.

The boys and men lived on the ground, and the women in the cliff caves. They rarely saw each other, except on the full and new moons. Then the older women would fly down to visit the men, and the younger boys and girls would hold parties in the larger caves.

She glided higher on the updrafts, stretching her wings and performing complicated loops and twirls. Her hair fanned out behind her, flapping like a cape. All females were required to grow their hair down to their feet and dye it black as a sign of respect to the Goddess and her Priestess. Anzimani missed the part where long hair equaled respect, but rules were rules. And in her opinion, most rules were annoying.

She was in the middle of an especially complex maneuver when another resounding drum sounded and startled her, causing her to fall a few feet in a bundle of floundering wings before flapping herself upright again.

"Five minute sounding," she muttered to herself. "Better get a move on." She flexed her wings and shot forward toward the north, where the artificial sun was rising.

The entire city was surrounded by a shining dome of pink energy, on which the image of the sun moved across each day from north to south, the moon taking its place at night. One of the first lessons any Nadian ever learned was not to touch the energy field, or you would be burned to a thimbleful of ashes before you could blink. Everyone knew the city's patron goddess, Naiden'stes, maintained the magical shield to protect them from the outside world. In return, the girls and women of the city gave daily sacrifices and offerings to her. The job of keeping the Goddess appeased was one of utmost importance, for without the shield the city would most likely crumble within minutes and become just another tract of land in the waste that spread for miles. Anzimani hadn't ever seen outside the barrier after it was formed, but Shroket had ways of looking beyond it.

Anzimani coasted toward the northernmost point of the cliffs, toward Bak. It was at the tallest, grandest point of the cliffs. The sun was rising behind it, causing it to cast its tall shadow over the city. In the side of the cliff, a great, yawning cave mouth broke a hole in the grey rock, as tall as twenty men and as wide as thirty laid sideways. This was Bak, the temple-cave where the women met every day to give the offerings to the goddess Naiden'stes and to pray that she continued to protect the city.

Anzimani landed on the lip of the cave in a flurry of feathers. Everyone else had already arrived—normally, there would be an overflow of black-haired, black-winged girls and women finding a spot to land, but today all was quiet. Everyone would already be in the next cave, preparing for the morning's offering.

   There were three smaller cavelets in Bak, the large worship-cave. The first was the one Anzimani was standing in now, and was simply an entrance cave. The second cave was attached to the entrance cave by a narrow passageway and was larger than the first. It was the preparation cave, where the day's sacrifices and offerings would be arranged and readied. The third cave was the largest and grandest of all: the ceremony cave.

Anzimani folded her wings neatly behind her. They were as black as her hair, but unlike her tresses they didn't have to be dyed. All the women in the city were born with black wings, and most of the men. About a fourth of the men's were different colors; some were tawny, or chocolate brown.
The feathers were downy below where the wings met her back, but the flight feathers were strong and firm. The wings reached down to the backs of her knees and occasionally shed feathers, but new ones grew in their place.

She had to lift the hem of her long, purple robe slightly to walk through the passageway to the preparation cave. As she got closer, the chatter of women and girls became louder and she could pick out individual strains of conversation; "No, don't put the Moonflower next to the tomatoes, it looks ridiculous..." "Oops, look out, dear, your hair's in the wine goblet..."

Anzimani ducked through the passageway to the preparation cave and was greeted with a blast of light and sound.
The first thing you noticed when you entered the preparation cave were the walls. Everywhere, gems grew from them and sparkled and winked at you from every direction, from rubies to amethysts to golden topaz and diamonds as clear as glass.

There were hundreds of women in the large cave, and if you were entering for the first time, you would have thought it was filled with hundreds of look-alikes. Every girl and woman had long black hair down to their toes, long billowing purple robes, and wide, black-feathered wings. However, if you looked closer, you would see the distinct differences in faces and figures.

All the women were intent on one thing: the preparation of sacrifices for the morning's service. The room was full of rows of triangular tables with strange signs and figures burnt into them, and more often than not had been scorched in spots where a candle had been dropped or knocked over.
By the entrance stood wagons of food that had been flown over in the night by the men. These were the offerings that had to be so meticulously arranged on platters, the first part of Anzimani's job. Girls were already skittering between the wagons and their tables, trying to get their platters done in time for the ceremony at noon.

Anzimani's table was one-third of the way to the back of the cave, on the far right side. If she could just sneak along the wall, maybe she wouldn't be spotted. She had to go quickly before Shroket saw her. She had taken three steps when she caught sight of an exceptionally tall woman striding through the crowd, receiving respectful nods as she passed. She wore her hair up, in complicated braids and twists around her head. She was the only one allowed to do so.

"Drat," Anzimani muttered. "Shroket." She stopped walking. It was obvious that the formidable woman had seen her.

"Late again, Anzimani. And is that a stain on your shoulder?"

Double drat. She had hoped fanning her hair out over the spot would have hidden it. Shroket, however, missed little.

"I'll have to let it go, this time—" Here Anzimani exhaled in a little 'whoosh' of breath—"because I have just received an express letter from the birthing cave. Your mother went into labor not long after you left. You are, of course, free to go visit her there."

At this, girls from the other nearby tables looked over curiously. A new birth would mean a baptism—a welcome break from the ceremonies they usually practiced.

Anzimani's heart skipped a beat with excitement. "Thank you, your eminence. I will go at once." She bowed, speaking in the traditional respectful tone, then turned and raced as fast as she could back through the tunnel, hearing Shroket chuckle behind her.

Chapter 2 (cont.)

She ran into the relative quiet of the entrance cave and hurried forward to the edge, spreading her wings as she jumped off.

In her haste, her foot snagged on the edge of the cliff, causing her to do a full somersault in the air. She dropped a few feet before her wings spread out again and caught her, parachute-like, with a soft whump. As she flapped herself higher, recovering from the momentary scare, she heard a low, soft laugh behind her. She whirled around.

A boy was leaning against the cave wall at the very edge, watching her. He had spiky, pure white hair that stuck out in every direction. He was wearing the simple dark blue tunic and black pants of a messenger, and was very pale. However, there were two very unusual things about him that made her stare: first of all, his eyes were red. Not a deep, apple-red, but a paler, pinkish shade. The second thing that caught her attention was that he had white wings. They were the same pure, snowy shade as his hair. She'd never seen anyone with white wings before. She scowled at him, but still couldn't help staring.

He grinned at her, shifting the black messenger bag he carried over his shoulder. "You'll have to be more careful if you want to live to see your new sister. "

Anzimani shook her head to clear it, then, puzzled, asked, "How do you know where I'm going?" Her eyes brightened at the news that it was a girl.

His lips twitched. "I brought Shroket the letter informing her of the event. You'd better hurry, you've missed it already."
Anzimani wasn't quite sure what to say, so she mumbled, "Um, thanks," before turning and flying away.

As she turned away from the strange messenger toward the birthing cave, she felt unease in the pit of her stomach, and she knew it wasn't from the fall. She couldn't explain it, so she pushed it aside and concentrated on reaching the birthing cave without another accident.

The cave where she was headed was a small cove in the side of the west cliff. She'd only been inside twice before, for her own birth and for that of the boy who would have been her half-brother, three years before. Something had gone wrong, and he had been born lifeless. Both she and her mother were anxious and worried for the new child.

She landed carefully on the edge of the opening in the rock face, and hurried forward into the cave.
There were iron beds lining the walls of the candle-lit room, but only one was made up with a feather-stuffed mattress and plain cotton sheets. In this bed sat her mother, holding a small bundle wrapped in the same white cotton. The doctress stood beside her bed, and looked up as Anzimani swooped down upon them.

"Oh, I can't believe I missed it! I've gotta see her this very second!" She peered down at the bundle her mother was holding, after kissing her mother on the cheek. "Aww, she's so cute!" The baby smiled, gurgling up at her. Anzimani looked up at her mother, beaming. "I'm so glad it went well, I—" she paused, seeing her mother's expression. "Mom? Is something wrong?" Her mother's eyes were filled with tears, and she was shaking.

"What...?"Anzimani looked up at the doctress, whose face was filled with sorrow and pity. "What's going on?"
Wordlessly, her mother slowly unwrapped the child and turned her so that Anzimani could see her back.
Anzimani gasped as reality hit her. Her sister had no wings. Her back was perfectly smooth, save for one white nub of bone protruding from each of her shoulder blades, no larger than a peach pit.

Anzimani's head reeled. The city was built for flyers. Her sister would never be able to travel from cave to cave or revel in the joy of flight.
Blinking back her own tears, Anzimani looked back up at her mother and forced herself to smile.
"It'll be okay, though, right? Other than that, she's normal. She'll be a little... different, but that's okay. At least we have her. Right, Doctress?"
The woman looked down at Anzimani with such pity in her eyes that Anzimani instantly felt sick. "I'm afraid not, dear child. I truly am terribly sorry... but I'm afraid that your sister must not be allowed to live."

Chapter Three

"Wh—what?" She couldn't have heard right. This couldn't be true.

"You know it's the law, Anzimani," her mother croaked. "In the book of Naiden'stes... you've read it...."

Anzimani sat down heavily on the end of her mother's bed. She knew it was the truth. On the first page of the holy book, the most important laws of the Goddess were laid down. It first addressed the evils of thievery, heresy, falseness, and vanity. The fifth rule was that all those born imperfect were a disgrace to the goddess... and must be 'removed.'

It was one of those things that she knew, but had never really had to internalize. You may have heard of a hurricane, but it's a whole different story when it hits you. She'd never heard of it happening before, someone being born flawed. But now she realized that they would have wanted to keep it quiet.

"But what about the other laws of the Goddess? What about compassion? Acceptance? Do those mean nothing?" Anzimani rose from her seat in anger, indignant fury rushing through her. She felt lightheaded, and her skin was tingling. "Or are we just to obey the laws when it's convenient for the Goddess?" She sneered the last word. "How terrible for the Goddess to be disgraced by this child, who hasn't harmed her in any way! By all means, let's kill her!" She swayed on her feet.

The room was growing dimmer, the candle flames diminishing to glowing points at the end of the wicks. Her mother and the doctress were staring at her in shock and horror. Anzimani felt a small pain in her fingertips, and gasped as she saw that they were glowing.

She stared at them,  and they crackled with an unseen energy. She stepped back in horror, and her fingers burned sharply, as if admonishing her. She stepped forward again, and the burning stopped. She took another step forward, and even her hair seemed infused with static. Then she realized what she was supposed to do, what she had to do. She couldn't leave her sister here to die, wingless or not.

She held her glowing hands out toward her mother. "Give me my sister." Her mother just whimpered slightly and clutched the child closer to herself.
Anzimani thought quickly. Her mother was not going to give her the baby willingly, and she didn't want to hurt either of them. Then an idea struck her.

"I am the Goddess! Do not defy me!" She shouted, leaning closer.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. She would pay for this later.

The two other women's eyes widened, and her mother gasped. Anzimani felt her hair, snapping with currents of electricity, fan out behind her. She leaned closer to her mother, placing glowing fingertips on the bundled child, who looked calmly back at her as if she saw this kind of thing every day. Her mother allowed her to take the baby softly into her arms, paralyzed more by shock than anything else. Anzimani whispered softly, "I promise, your daughter is in safe hands."

With that, she turned and strode out of the mouth of the cave. She jumped off the edge without looking back, each wing beat taking her farther from everything in her life that had been normal.

[Hilary]

I don't know if anyone's even reading this... but I suppose I will continue to upload chapters like an idiot. 
Here's just the beginning of chapter two, as it will be vair vair long.

[Tapewolf]

I don't know if anyone's even reading this... but I suppose I will continue to upload chapters like an idiot. 
Here's just the beginning of chapter two, as it will be vair vair long.

Looks like you're starting to get into gear.  Quite an interesting society you've developed there, by the looks of it.
(Hint: you can tell if people are reading it by making note of the number of views )

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Maybe I'm just suspicious, but I personally don't think Shroket is up to anything good.

I guess I jsut don't trust someone who says "You're locked up, and you can't see anything but I can, as I'm the only one who can, and I locked you up, and you can't get out because there's nasty things out there. Honest. But you'll have to trust me."

Call me paranoid.

[Hilary]

(Hint: you can tell if people are reading it by making note of the number of views )

*taps my head*
Nope, nothin' in the noggin.' ^^

[Hilary]

The second half of chapter two's up.  *bustles off to do homework*

[Tapewolf]

Woah, harsh.

[Hilary]

Woah, harsh.

Yeah... there's no nice way to say that.

Third chapter's up, this one's pretty short.