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Nama-kwah had prepared carefully for her journey to the Realm of Ufashwe, the God of the Wind, who was Nama-kwah’s closest friend among the Jagasti. Although the elements the two deities controlled were complementary in nature, the air in Ufashwe’s Realm could prove dangerous to her if she entered it without taking the proper precautions.
Complementary ...
Nama-kwah’s smooth brow had creased in a frown as she remembered how hollow a conception that had been during the time of the Storm Wars, when the ashuma that had been granted to the humans had escaped the control of even the Jagasti, and continued to rage unchecked to this day in the ocean off the coast of the Abengoni continent and the beaches of the Uloan Islands. In that part of the Beyond World, the Jagasti no longer held even a semblance of sway. The Beyond World’s own elementals of sea and sky were at war, a war that could not come to an end because of the mindless nature of its protagonists.
And the rest of the Beyond World had, for the most part, been abandoned by the Jagasti – all except Legaba, the seeker of power, who had striven to ensnare the Realms of Jagasti and humans alike in his far-reaching webs, only to bring himself, the Realms, and the world of humanity close to ruin.
Like Legaba, Nama-kwah also paid more attention to the Beyond World than did most of the other Jagasti. But her reasons involved sentiment rather than a hunger for adulation. Her latest – and now last – Vessel, Tiyana, had intrigued her. The young woman reminded her of other Amiyas who had served her in times long past – Amiyas whose deeds had become legendary among the mortals. She had touched Tiyana more than she should have. And Tiyana had, in turn, touched Nama-kwah, for even among the short-lived people of the Beyond World, there were those whose qualities had earned the admiration of the Jagasti.
Nama-kwah remembered Etiya and her songs. And the shaman, Jaussa, and his curiosity. And Jass Issuri, the first Emperor, and his courage.
During the Dance on the Waves that had accompanied the First Calling ritual, Nama-kwah had attempted to warn Tiyana of the chain of events that was about to occur ... events the goddess was capable of foreseeing, but not forestalling. Giving that warning was all she could do.
Even so, Nama-kwah could not ignore the entreaties Tiyana had sent to her in the House of Amiyas at the time when all the Vessels had vainly beseeched Jagasti to save them from the Uloans ... from Legaba. Alone, Nama-kwah could do little. But with even some of the others at her side – together, this time – catastrophic destruction might not prove to be the inevitable result of their intervention.
And so she would go to Ufashwe.
At the margin between her Realm and the Wind God’s, there was a blue space that was neither sea nor sky ... more than either, but less than both. There, Nama-kwah had metamorphosed. The scales on her skin merged into a single, smooth, opalescent covering that contained a second skin of water that would keep her body moist in Ufashwe’s sky-beyond-the-sky.
Then she raised her arms, and gossamer growths like the specialized fins of a flying fish formed between her arms and her sides. She stretched experimentally, and was satisfied that her makeshift wings would endure the buffeting of the winds in Ufashwe’s Realm.
Turning, she looked back at the multi-hued swarms of fish that thronged behind her. Where she would now go, none of them could follow and survive. With a gesture of farewell to her Children, Nama-kwah launched herself forward, out of her Realm and into Ufashwe’s.
As she propelled herself through the blue border, Nama-kwah could feel the resistance of the water diminishing; at first gradually, then more and more rapidly until, finally, it was gone. The blue lightened, until it became not the color of a calm sea, but the shade of a sunny, dry-season sky. But there was no sun in this sky, even though it was bright rather than dark, and the air was warm, and white wisps of cloud dotted the blue like flowers in a field. Ufashwe’s Realm was like a daytime that had neither sunrise nor sunset.
Beneath her, Nama-kwah saw no ground ... only more sky, and more clouds. Gentle winds swirled around her, lifting her translucent wings, keeping her aloft. The warmth of the wind caressed her, even through the protective covering she had created for herself.
One moment, Nama-kwah was flying alone through the infinite sky, well aware that her presence would soon be known to Ufashwe. Then, without warning, she was surrounded by birds that seemed to have materialized from the sky itself. Avians of all shapes, sizes and colors swooped and swirled around Nama-kwah, subtly guiding her toward Ufashwe. The songs and cries of the birds mingled into a chorus rather than a cacophony, and their music was pleasing to Nama-kwah’s ears.
These variegated birds were Ufashwe’s Children. Like the fish that were Nama-kwah’s Children, the flock mirrored the birds that existed in Beyond World: eagles, flamingos, parrots, ibises, ox-peckers, guinea-fowl, marabous, honey-guides, hawks and songbirds. Ufashwe’s sky-Realm lent beauty even to the vulture and other despised scavenger-birds.
Birds of other types flew amid the flock – creatures that would never be seen in the sky over Abengoni. Large in size and wingspan, with long, elegant beaks and crystalline, almost transparent feathers, these birds were of Ufashwe’s own making; manifestations of his dreams. They looked at Nama-kwah with eyes that glinted with intelligence, and when they opened their beaks, they sang like no bird had ever sung in the World Beyond. They mingled freely with their fellow Children, neither receiving nor expecting any deference because of their differences.
In Ufashwe’s Realm, the birds that were his Children enjoyed eternal flight. Never would they need to alight on the ground or cling to a tree-branch. The sky was theirs – forever.
More of Ufashwe’s Children appeared, until they almost completely surrounded Nama-kwah. Although the birds conceded her the space necessary to spread her wings, she could no longer see the sky. She could see only an ever-changing mosaic of feathers, beaks and eyes. Other birds joined the song, and their music echoed in her ears as she flew.
She allowed Ufashwe’s Children to carry her along with them, knowing that they would eventually take her to the Wind God. She listened to their songs, and thought about what she was going to say to her fellow deity when she saw him.
After a time, she could sense that the flight of the flock was slowing. Then, abruptly, they were gone – vanished, as though they had never existed. And Ufashwe hovered before her, suspended in the never-ending sky.