Demon of the Black Gate
Chapter 47

They helped each other up. Yutan recovered quickly enough, though for many hours after, he felt as though he had slept far too long and was ready to sleep more yet.

He guided Cerra out to the balcony overlooking the imperial city, the Strait of Tears reflecting the city lights. Yutan remembered a similar balcony long ago. He felt a different emotion this time, as though he had discovered a jewel as precious as any the world offered. He stood behind her, holding her in his arms as they gazed out over the skyline.

Cerra felt a little like she had on the cliff at the east entrance of the great cave. She was poised above the noise of existence, like the hawks and eagles that soar in the quiet reaches of the sky. A city as Abyssin never sleeps, and she could hear the strains of music and machinery and traffic, combining into a babble much like the surf of the sea. A cry might rise momentarily above the rest only to fall back into the din. Kamir wove at her feet, and made the quiet leap to the rail, uncaring of the precipitous drop to the courtyard far below.

Yutan thought of some of her earlier requests to describe the world she found herself in, and softly began telling of the view of the city, the rounded domes mixed with the flat roofs where people convened in the cooler parts of the evening. He described the delicate minarets that graced the skyline and how some were lit for effect while others lay silhouetted against the night sky. She smiled: towers did look like men’s prods. Cerra leaned back against him, letting her imagination absorb his words. Her senses sorted and played with the scents and sounds. She felt intoxicated. She let her eyelids drift shut, trapping her visions forever within.

“We can’t stay here.” she said, almost a murmur. It was becoming her mantra.

“Not to fear that,” said Yutan. “I have no desire to remain.”

It was then that Cerra thought of the spell she had broken. “What of the wizard? I have no sense of him at all. Did he leave?”

“He remains.” said Yutan. “And he does not.”

Rovinkar still stood, hands laid upon the obsidian, frozen and featureless. He looked carved of old rock, like the ravaged stone of a statue, dimmed by a patina of dirt and aged with grime.

“He sought the ultimate power. He has found nothing instead.”

“What of you?” Cerra asked. She lay her hands across his chest. The touch of skin. “I can see you much as before. But you feel … you are … human.”

Yutan thought for a moment before answering. His vision was different. The past had flooded in as much as the void had torn it from him.

“I am still of the elements.” he said. “The spell has been broken. The human has been restored. It may be that I was meant to die with the spell. But the creator of the spell, I remember him … another wizard, another time … had not seen the void. Whoever created me did not feel the fires of earth or lay adrift as the wind. I have joined with the life of the ocean and set my heartbeat to the pulse of the earth. These things cannot be unseen or unknown. I am a demon yet.”

There was something lost in his voice. Cerra felt some of the same vagueness. What cannot be unseen. Or undone. It only took her a moment to realize that it was a purpose fulfilled … and a new void existed. She had heard some women talk of their children leaving home and the emptiness of purpose. She held his arms a little tighter.

“Well, then,” she said with a contented smile, “that’s what you are. I was a blind woman before. Now I’ve seen things I’d never hoped to see … and things I’d never want to see again. Ever! I never thought I’d ever say ‘I’ve seen enough.’ But I have. For now, anyway. You are right. These things cannot be unlearned. I feel stronger for it. Still, I’d like to go home.”

She turned in his arms facing him. She looked into different eyes than she had seen before. There was no unyielding stern purpose. They swirled in the same gaseous eddy, but looked back, seeing.

“Will you take me home?” she asked.

Yutan held her closer. The wild curls of her hair bunched under his chin. He looked out over the city he had described to Cerra. He had no place here either. His human awareness was returning. He was holding her, arms wrapped around her. And he was quite naked. He was feeling a power that he had not felt for a very long time. The brown eyes were looking up to him. The flicker of lights playing against her pupils made them dance with life. He remembered floating into them once before, having been nearly lost to the wizards spell.

He bent to kiss her, her face floating past his vision and replaying the hallucination. He was grateful for her reality. Cerra felt his kiss approach. Even had she not seen, every sense told her it was coming and her entire body responded. She knew where his lips would be. She didn’t need the glow of his image to lead her.

They left the observatory shortly afterwards. Cerra reveled in the kiss and felt his body hardening against her. She was growing hungry, and it wasn’t food that concerned her. But they could not linger where they were. Only the heavens knew what people were about, even searching for her, though she had little concern for that now. Nonetheless, she wanted to leave with as little bother as possible. The wizard and his motivations would linger, even though he was encased like stone.

Yutan ripped a black silk arras from the walls, emblazoned with signs Rovinkar had hung for his protection. He fashioned it into a toga, a garment he well remembered.

They descended the stairs, Yutan helping Cerra duck under the beam-like shaft that penetrated the wall.

“I did that.” Yutan said as she ducked past.

“You did that?” She started laughing. She never revealed the cause of her mirth.

“Women,” he thought, “have not changed through the ages.”

They didn’t leave city right away and Cerra was grateful. With Yutan as guide, she visited the fabled markets of Abyssin, felt the rich cloths and marveled at the workmanship of the silversmiths and woodcarvers. Kamir would ride in her basket, and had also taken to riding the shoulders of Yutan. The vendors had foodstuffs from all across the empire, as well as the seas to the south and the jungles to the east.

The shops provided Yutan with suitable clothes. He chose the loose caftan of the Cherros. However, unlike many in the city, he carried no sword. Cerra bypassed the many shops given over to clothing, choosing instead the spice shops and apothecaries. She enjoyed the smells of the fresh market foods, and the happy chatter of the vendors. She had never felt more alive; and to a man, vendors swore caravans at her disposal should she want anything delivered, just to see her smile again.

With Yutan as a different guide, she rediscovered the terrain of her body as she explored his in the quiet moments between the excursions into the city. Even though he had re-acquired his human touch, the fire of the demon remained, and the powers of earth and fire penetrated her realms of air and water. She felt the exhaustion and fulfillment with each mating. They were mixing, churning their energy. It was too much. It was not enough. Her secret garden was blooming in all directions. It was feeding on her joy. It was brighter and more alive than it had ever been. She wanted to nourish. She wanted to lay on her back and be consumed.

In the end, she acquired far more than she anticipated. The thrill of a lover, and large trunk of goods that accompanied them on the return to Oskara. The sail across the Sultan Sea was far different than her initial voyage. This time she let the currents carry her. This time she didn’t mind the sway in the cabin and the demon carried her in a far different way.