Leviathans
Chapter 1

1An hour and a half later, Rayne stepped back into her room. She tossed her towel onto the bed, her hair a tangle on her head. It had taken her forever to get the grime off herself. Somehow, sand always seemed to get everywhere. She walked over to the dark wooden dresser, looking at herself in the mirror above it for a moment.

Rayne always thought of herself as short as a child, and the notion had only been reinforced by Lucy. In the past few years though, she had grown quickly. She wasn’t lanky, like her friend, and knew that she was probably stronger. As evidence, the muscles of her arms stood defined against skin the color of light caramel. Her agile fingers found the thin scar that ran down her left cheek to her jaw, pausing for a moment. She watched her own eyes. Mostly green, with a ring of cool silvery blue around the pupil. She had been told she looked like she was cold. She frowned at the thought, but couldn’t refute it. Maybe I am? Came the inquisitive thought.

She searched for the handle on one of the rectangular drawers. A sigh, as her hands slid it open. First, simple undergarments, then a pair of comfortable woven pants. Originally, the pants hadn’t fit. She’d needed to get them tailored so the hips were wider. A deep breath, held for just a moment before being released. The familiar crack and rumble of thunder. Three steps to the temperature gauge on her wall, quickly turning the temperature down. The machine on the floor in the corner of the room started to hum, the air cooling rapidly. Rayne Threw herself onto the bed. She stared at the ceiling.

She hated this city. How dirty it was. How ugly it was, both in how it looked and how it seemed to be split into the poor and the very rich. She had heard of cities on the sides of mountains, held up by the runic technology their guilds maintained. She had heard of cities inside mountains, airflow regulated by a complex series of chambers carved around the city proper. She had heard of cities moving across the desert, like giant beetles. She wanted to leave, so badly. Another deep breath, eyes closed. Images of wondrous vistas seemed to float across the back of her eyelids.

And then there were the Leviathans. Mythical creatures of living magic and machinery. “The advent of the end of the world” she whispered. “Or, those that hold it together.” Her eyes were open now, as she replayed the scene of the gigantic… creature? Construct? Monster? Sinking above the clouds. “What are you?” she asked the empty air, sitting up and sliding off the bed. It was time to get on a shirt. If she spent as long as she wanted to thinking about whether what she saw was real or not, she’d never get anything done.

As the fabric brushed her skin, she thought. If she was smart, she’d follow Lucy’s advice. She knew exile was the same as an execution. It had taken her days to get over the haunted, despairing look of the first person she saw exiled. The way their entire body seemed to crumble. The sobs seemed to echo for weeks. The small sound of wood on wood hung in the air as she closed the drawer.

Still, I have to know. The voice of her curiosity told her. Her hair, still slightly wet, clung to her skin in places. She reached for the brush she kept in front of the mirror. Her hand stopped, going instead to the bracelet she had bought years beforehand. She picked it up, and stared at it. The gold band was studded with glass beads of different colors. She had bought it with the small amount of money she had been paid by the guild after her first week. It brought a small smile to her lips. The smile quickly faded as she remembered what she had witnessed the next day. The screams of a heretic given the brand. She let out a trapped breath. It was the first, and only, time that she watched the process.

A metal bar with the end shaped into a runic symbol, heated until it shone like the sun. The rune being dipped into what looked like liquid flames, but she knew was a specially prepared metal. A look of fear turning into one of pain. The stink of burning flesh. The scream of a woman called a heretic, a moment of silence. Rayne shuddered, nearly dropping the bracelet. She carefully put it down, and then stared at herself hard in the mirror. After the silence, came renewed screams. The metal reacted to magic. To the magic in the city. The woman ran desperately. The crowd parted. Rayne didn’t think anyone had ever seen her again. Anywhere she went with people, there would be magic. Anywhere she went with magic, there would be pain.

Rayne shook her head, clearing the images away. The brush was in her hand, and she drew it slowly through her hair, pulling it out. It lay mostly flat between her shoulder blades, but the curves that betrayed her curls were already showing. She had to talk to someone about what she had seen, and knew just who she wanted to approach. One of the people who had drawn her out of her life as an orphan.

The brush was back on the hard stone top of the dresser, the soft sound of wood on stone following its journey. She walked across the open space in front of her bed, to the door that led back into the tower. She leaned down, and picked up the slippers that were next to her boots. On they went, one at a time, with Rayne nearly falling over as she tried to reach for the doorknob instead of using both hands. She grabbed her key from a small table near the door. The simple door opened smoothly. She stepped outside, locking it behind her.

Rayne had once caught one of the younger apprentices trying to sneak in. Probably encouraged by some of his friends to steal something from the only girl that lived in the tower. Having since switched the lock out for one of her own design, nothing of hers had ever gone missing.

Moving quickly through the tower, Rayne made for the library. She wasn’t in a rush, and she quietly greeted those few that she passed in the wide hallways. They acknowledged her briefly before moving on. Through the thick windows and the end of each hall, nothing could be seen but quickly swirling sand and grit. The storm had hit in full, and with it muted acceptance. Tomorrow would be a busy day, but for now everyone was subdued. The silence was so striking it seemed to echo.

Up a set of sandstone stairs, one step at a time. The light, but quick, plinking of the storm’s contents on the pane of glass ahead of her loud in her ears. Finally, the entrance to the library. This is where she knew she would find who she wanted to see. At least, she would if the Guild masters had finished their meeting. She hoped they had. If not, she might be waiting for a long while as they debated what to do about the storm. As Lucy had said, the storms had been getting stronger. More frequent, too.

The rectangular iron plate bolted to this side of the door felt smooth under her hand as she pushed. The smell of books filled her nostrils. Bookshelves made of dark, ochre wood lined the walls and were spread in rows throughout the room. She searched for who she was looking for, the soft slap of her slippers on the cold stone floor echoing softly. The tables and chairs in the center were devoid of people. The armchairs spread throughout, small counters near them, were empty as well. He’s not here. She thought to herself. Oh well.

She pulled out a book at random. “Leviathans: myths of Old, huh?” she said out loud, running her fingers along the embossed title. She stifled a laugh at the sight. Might as well do some reading. She sat down at one of the long tables in the center of the room that was usually full of people. The padded chair was comfortable against her back as she opened the book.

Leviathans. Those civilizations that came before believed in the gigantic creatures, said to have been built by the gods themselves. Legends say they resided everywhere from the center of volcanos to the bottom of the ocean. Said the first few lines. “And above the clouds as well” Rayne whispered as she settled in. She suddenly remembered she hadn’t started writing the report she had to submit. She groaned. It would wait. This was more interesting.

The creak of the door opening startled her out of focus. Rayne looked first at the large grandfather clock against the central bookcase. An hour and a few minutes had passed. It was now firmly the middle of the night. She unfolded her legs from under her, the light aches reminding her that she should move more often while reading. Her hair fell across her face as she slowly turned her head towards the door.

The frail man, still carrying his notebook, walked through the door. He hadn’t seen her yet. He was muttering to himself, scribbling something in the margins. Rayne cleared her throat, and the man looked up with a look of surprise that faded quickly into a fatherly smile. “Oh, hello Rayne” he said, crossing the distance between them slowly. “Hello, sir” she answered, closing her book as he sat down across from her.

From close up, it was possible to see past the frailty, and into the hard determination in his eyes. One did not become a Guild Master for no reason. His thinning hair sat neatly on his head, pulled into a small, well kempt ponytail. It was already the silvery-gray color of Iva, the first moon. He rose an eyebrow at her examination. “Something you wished to speak about?” he asked simply, a single glance down at his notes before quickly closing the notebook with a snap.

Rayne looked up at him, a small smile dancing on her lips. He always could read right through her. “I could just have come here to read, you know.” Rayne answered, bringing up the book to show him. A shake of his head, a chuckle. “Knowing you, you would rather be reading in your room with a cup of tea.” The man countered, and Rayne shrugged. He was right, that much was true. A flash of lightning illuminated the library from the outside, throwing stark shadows against the floor and walls. Rayne and the man looked outside. “What’s happening with the Storms, Master Ethan?” she asked, and he frowned. His gaze went to his hands, and then to the cover of his notebook. “We’re doing what we can to find out, child.”

Rayne found the guarded look in his eyes. “So you can’t tell me.” She challenged, and a sad smile touched his lips, all but confirming her suspicions. She took a moment to look around, and then faced him again. She opened her mouth, and then closed it. How to word this so she didn’t sound insane? Leviathans weren’t real. Master Ethan looked on inquisitively, but calmly, his left hand over his right in front of him. She knew he would give her as much time as she needed. She sighed.

“I saw a leviathan, Master Ethan.” Rayne said quietly, looking at her fingers. Watching them move against the wood, leaving a bright sheen. The man stared, his eyes now firmly locked onto Rayne. “When I was checking the tower. I saw it come out from above the clouds. It looked just like the ones in the stories you’d tell me. A great stone whale with three pairs of wings, bigger than any of the buildings in the city. Bigger than the towers. Watching from above.” She breathed, remembering the images he had planted so long ago. She gestured meaninglessly with her hands, looking down at the cover of her book. Or more accurately, straight through it. She could still see the creature, if you could call it that, etched into her mind.

Master Ethan shuffled for a moment, scratching the slight stubble on his face. His expression was strange. Strained. As if he’d heard something he didn’t want to hear. “Are you certain it was not merely the storm?” Master Ethan asked as he adjusted his glasses. A soft snap as he opened his notebook again. “Definitely.” Rayne asserted with a nod.

It had been solid. Leviathan or not, what she saw was definitely not made of sand. “I… see.” He answered, the pen in his left hand moving quickly across the page. It scratched against the surface. The sound felt loud. “Rayne, you must not tell anyone else about this.” He said quickly. Rayne shifted, her hands tracing the word “Leviathan” on the cover of the book. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“I won’t. I just wanted to know if you knew”

“Knew what, Rayne?”

“That they were real.”

Master Ethan focused his eyes on Rayne’s face. He had put down the notebook again. His hands made a triangle, the tips of his fingers meeting at his lips. “Rayne, I might have a job for you.” He said, taking her off guard. “What does that have to do with this?” she asked, her eyebrows meeting in confusion. “Nothing.” Ethan said simply, his pale blue eyes still focusing on Rayne. “That doesn’t make any sense then, why would you go from that conversation to this one? Obviously they’re connected.” She argued, and Ethan laughed. Rayne opened her mouth to continue, but the Master shook his head.

“That’s exactly why I had you in mind. You’re smart. You see connections others don’t. You have a gift, Rayne.”

Rayne sighed. This conversation again. “I have no idea how to bring on the episodes. I don’t even know what they are.” She complained, a slight whine to her voice. She had been told, over and over. Scolded, over and over. It never helped. Whatever she had done as a child, she had never been able to do it again. Ethan nodded. “I know. For now, I want you to take a look at a puzzle for me. One that I’ve never been able to solve myself.” He said softly. There was hope lighting up his eyes.

Rayne raised her eyes to find Master Ethan holding out a small bronze sphere in her direction. Thin lines ran all over the metallic object, splitting it into a multitude of shapes and facets. She took it, lifting an eyebrow as she did. “What…?” Rayne asked slowly, not properly finishing the sentence as Master Ethan placed it in her hands. “As I said. A puzzle I have never been able to solve. Take it, see what you make of it.”

Re-examining the sphere, she noticed it was slightly warm to the touch, and seemed bright with an inner glow of some sort. Engravings covered the metal. They were in some strange language that gave her the sense that she was holding something truly ancient. As she turned it around in her hands, the lines she had noticed before felt like they were deeply cut into the object. One of her fingers ran along one of the lines.

“Is that etched…?” Her world condensed around the sphere. No not etched she thought, as she felt the minute movements of the faces. Her mouth fell slightly open as she concentrated. Interconnected subdivisions. All different. She rotated it slowly, feeling each piece shift ever so slightly under her fingers, like continental plates. Her breathing nearly stopped. She felt as if she could see into the sphere. See how all of the parts connected to each other. She brushed against one of shapes on its surface, pressing it inwards, and twisting it into a slot that had revealed itself. Pure elation flooded her. Her eyes went wide. She pulled at another piece, and moved another two aside. The sphere changed continuously as she worked, morphing at her touch. It grew outwards, and in. Slowly, ever so slowly, it opened.

She moved her fingers faster, the click that sounded after each correctly completed motion like the most beautiful of music to her ears. Sweat ran into her eye, she blinked it away, not daring to release the sphere. As if it would disappear as soon as she let go. She lost track of time as the pieces slid seamlessly, effortlessly. It seemed to take forever It seemed to take no time at all. And then, with one final resounding click, it was over.

Rayne let out a shaky breath as the sphere, now open to the core almost like a blooming flower, lay in front of her. Within it, in a loose setting made of what looked like gold, was a stone. It looked like it was smoldering, shifting between reds, oranges, and whites. As if the stone itself were crystallized flame. Rayne stared at it, breathless. She felt like she was going into shock.

Rayne suddenly remembered that she was sitting across from Master Ethan. Her mouth parted in surprise, and her eyes darted up to look at him. She was still shaking, sweat running down her forehead. Her quick breaths the only sound in the room. Master Ethan’s face was frozen in a look that was a mix of surprise, happiness, and the smugness that came with being right. He took a breath. It was shaky, as if he had been holding stale air in his lungs as she worked. “Incredible.” He breathed. “You truly do have the gift.” His gaze moved from her, to the stone. It lingered, for a moment. Rayne felt strangely protective of the gem. She realized what she had just done.

Her expression quickly changed from surprise and contentment to careful neutrality. Her eyebrows came together for a moment. Everyone who had heard of her episode as a child had called her a freak. What would someone say after actually seeing one? “You’ve never seen it happen before, have you?” she asked cautiously. “I… Yes. I have. Just not to you. And never quite so extreme” The man answered. Rayne’s eyes met his for just a moment. This was news to her. He wrapped his hand in a small cloth, extending his hand towards the stone.

Rayne pulled the sphere away unconsciously. He raised an eyebrow, but smiled. “May I?” He asked, gesturing towards it. Rayne hesitated for just a moment. The glint in Master Ethan’s eye was anything but gentle. It spoke of hunger. Just as quickly as she had seen it though, it was gone. Rayne swallowed, sure she had imagined it, and let him approach.

Master Ethan adjusted his glasses, and then the cloth, before carefully lifting the stone from the center of the sphere. They both sat watching it in his hand for a minute or two. The mesmerizing, shifting colors almost hypnotic. Rayne’s expression was one of curiosity. Master Ethan’s was one of wonder, and an almost religious reverence. He covered the gem, placing it slowly in front of him. “Who?” Rayne asked quickly. Ethan glanced up at her, confused. “Who what?”

“Who else have you seen do this?”

“Ah.” Came the sound of understanding. “Give me one moment, please.” He continue, as he opened his notebook and furiously began to sketch. Rayne sighed her frustration as she watched the edges of the stone quickly form on the page. The detail Master Ethan put into the drawing was remarkable. He glanced up at the Sphere, his eyes gliding past Rayne as if she weren’t there. He was so focused on what he was doing, as he changed the subject of his sketching to the open sphere that she might as well not have been there at all. Truth be told Rayne could understand the feeling, even if she didn’t like it.

A few minutes later he finished. Rayne had her arms crossed, staring up at the steady lights on the ceiling and the flashes of lighting through the windows, when he cleared his throat to call her attention. She looked down. His fingers were stained with ink, and he was careful to keep them from smearing the page as he set aside his notebook to dry. He seemed to ignore the ink that had gotten on the cuffs of his shirt. Rayne’s eyes met his, and she waited. A few seconds grew to a minute. A minute, to two. And then three. Rayne cocked her head, raising an eyebrow.

He wove his fingers together on the table in front of him. “What you just did… is difficult to explain, but I will try to be brief. Some extremely talented technomages are able, after decades of intense training, teach themselves a skill in which they can almost… sense, would be the closest word… the inner workings of nearly any object with moving parts or magic.” Master Ethan began, gesturing to enunciate his points.

Rayne crossed her legs beneath her. The sight and smell of the multitude of books, the sound of rumbles of thunder and sand striking glass, all faded away as she began to think. It was true. She felt as if she did know exactly how the sphere was constructed. Exactly which facets to move to achieve the effect she wanted. Her eyes wandered down to the sphere as her ears registered a voice she was no longer even hearing properly. It was the most complicated, and beautiful piece of machinery she had ever seen.

A bright bronze. The light she had seen from within it before now faded. The setting for the stone was incredibly ornate. All twists, and turns, and what looked to be runes. She now saw that each face had a different symbol in the center, so faded with time that not even her deft fingers had noticed them in her rush to open the object. She remembered how it felt. Simply knowing what had to be done, where everything was. How everything moved. It was exactly like the time she was a child. When the guild had found her. Rayne blinked once, refocusing on Master Ethan. He was still talking. Oops. She thought, barely stifling a laugh.

“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?” he asked.

“I did… just not after the beginning. Sorry.” She answered sheepishly.

Master Ethan sighed, raising his hands in exasperation. A small, warm smile on his face as he shook his head. “Never mind then.” he said. “Was the last time this happened when you were a child?” he questioned. Rayne shook her head by way of response. “A few times since. But nobody believes me about it. The other Masters think I must be lying, and that fixing that conduit was a fluke.” She lamented. He cocked his head to the side. “It may be best if you don’t speak to any of them about this.” He told her.

“Not even Master Ronyr?” she asked, surprised. Ronyr, the violet eyed Senior Technomage that had argued for her to join the guild and had later ascended to Master. Ethan shook his head and then his face suddenly grew serious. The soft lines hardened. “Rayne, can I trust you?” he asked, looking right into her eyes. Rayne was taken aback, and shaken entirely out of her reverie. “Of course.” She answered truthfully, leaning forward as she untangled her legs. “I need you to hide this stone.” He said, holding the cloth-wrapped gem out to her. Her eyes lingered on it, and she swore she could see a small amount of light coming from beneath the cloth.

“From who?” she asked, her eyes flicking up to him, and then back down to his outstretched hand.

“Everyone.” Came his earnest answer. His voice was almost strained, as if he wanted to tell her more, but couldn’t. To protect you, she knew. Still, her eyes betrayed her curiosity. Master Ethan paused for a moment, as if struggling with something. He glanced at his notebook, and then at her. His mouth came together into a hard line as he made his decision. “The storms are getting worse, Rayne.” he whisper, almost conspiratorially.

Rayne looked at him in confusion. “And? what does that have to do with the gem?” she asked, and he shook his head. “It feels to me like things are unravelling” he answered, as if ignoring her question. He leaned back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling, lost in memory for a moment. “In my youth, the storm you see outside would have been considered the greatest storm of the century. Now, it’s just one among many.” He breathed. Master Ethan refocused on her and sighed, holding out the stone once more. “You’ll find the answers you seek, Rayne. I know it.” he finished. Find. Rayne thought. Not get.

Rayne knew that asking any more questions wouldn’t get her any more answers about what she was supposed to do with it. She took the stone from his hand almost reverently, and carefully slipped it into a pocket. “I’ll keep it with me until you ask for it back.” She said simply, and he smiled sadly, as if that would never happen. As if there was an unspoken reason he would never get the chance. For some reason, that struck her. He had never looked like that before. Like he was lost. “What is it?” she prodded. He stayed silent.

“Ever the curious one.” He finally sighed, after a few seconds of empty air.

“You’re doing the thing where you don’t answer my questions again, Master Ethan.” Rayne complained, pouting. The man laughed, breaking the tension between them. He shrugged.

“So I am. Suffice to say it is important enough to hide, and that I believe that you may be more apt than many to understand that importance.”

“Hmm” Rayne muttered with a frown. She could feel the weight of it in her pocket. As if it were burning. “Please?” she implored, and he shook his head sadly. “I am sorry, Rayne. Still… you should return to your room for rest. It is quite late.” Master Ethan said gently. Rayne huffed, and crossed her arms, looking away towards the bookcases again. Refusing to meet his gaze for a few moments. She glanced over at the clock near the window. It was after midnight. Usually, she was asleep by now. Or, at least, she was trying to sleep.

The howling of the wind filled the silence that had grown suddenly. The staccato plinking of the sand against the window drew her attention. She stared. The enveloping darkness outside was striking. She had been so lost in her reading, and then in her conversation with Master Ethan, that she hadn’t even consciously realized so much time has passed. Finally, with a sigh, she looked back at him. He was looking down at his hands, almost guiltily. It wasn’t an expression Rayne was used to seeing on his face. It didn’t speak of something he had done yet, but of something that he was going to do.

He looked up at her and opened his mouth. Her heart tightened, as she let herself hope he’d explain what it was he seemed scared of. He closed his mouth, looking almost deflated. “Good night, Master Ethan. Thanks for not answering any of my questions again.” She chided only half-jokingly as she stood up. Her legs felt cramped.

“Of course, Rayne. I’ll be here if you’d like more frustration in the future.” He promised. Somehow, the promise felt hollow. “Oh, and don’t worry about the report you haven’t started yet. I’ll take care of it” He continued, adjusting his glasses as he followed her example and stood. Rayne nearly hurt herself with how quickly her hand went to her face in embarrassment. “Thanks.” She said, stealing a glance at him through her fingers. He nodded, the laugh lines on his face standing out as he smiled. He stepped towards a bookcase, and waved her away.

Twenty minutes later and Rayne was lying in bed. She stared at the dark ceiling, tracing the lines and knots in the wood. The small light on the nightstand was still lit, providing a dull glow. Her soft shadow mirrored her movements as she raised a hand upwards, spreading her fingers. She stared. She could still feel some of the elation that had flooded into her as she examined the sphere. If she concentrated, she could feel it in her outstretched hand. She closed it into a fist, and looked towards her dresser, hand still extended. She had hidden the stone inside, amongst her clothes.

Her gaze wandered back to her fist. She opened it again and lowered it onto her bare chest. She always preferred to sleep with as few clothes as possible. She felt it was more comfortable. The chill in the air seemed to caress her skin as she pulled the covers up to her neck and turned onto her side. Her hair fell against her face. A pit opened in her chest. She didn’t know what was bothering Master Ethan, but she had a bad feeling about it. Hopefully, it would prove to be nothing.

She turned off the light with the press of a button on the side of the lamp. Her room was plunged into darkness. Flashes of lightning highlighted the crossbar on her window against the opposite wall. Rayne closed her eyes, and fell asleep to the image of a stone that appeared to be made of flames.

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