The Silent Stager

Rhosh stood on the edge of the tower in the sky, which peeked so arrogantly but delicately above the sea of clouds. Silent clouds. They rolled across the vision from left to far right where their enormous presence stretched seemingly without end. There would be thunder. Even here standing by her toes above the storms she expected to hear thunder. Nothing. Not even a ringing in her ear.

She pressed against the alabaster spire's base to rise higher.

Just several swoops over the beautiful white backs of the thunderheads, she hovered.

What had taken the sound away? Surely the sound was there...right?

She could taste the funky dry halitosis on her tongue. Or was it that she could smell it? That was probably the answer.

Rhosh flew effortlessly by the whims of the free Winds up here in the zenith of the world. He spun onto his back as the dip of the flight took his back over the dew of the clouds.

The dew should have made some sound too. Or at least the winds in her clothes. She wore their finest thinfurs. They had found this fur-covered skin shed from a skinslopher- shed like a snake. Oh!

Rhosh was doing it again. Without enough stimulation, she was bouncing around words to refer to themself. He, she, they, hey!

None of that matters up here. Rhosh was a person, an animal and existed to live. That was all.

Not a whisper. Almost like the silent h in her name. Could have been spelled Rosh for all anyone cared. A whisper nobody ever hears. The best-kept secret. The skin under the furs itched a bit. She wasn't used to wearing so much exoskin. She shifted the fur up from around her chest and crotch to settle around her upper arms and waist. Now the itchy parts were free to scratch. The thinfurn was very thin and one single piece but somehow kept her incredibly warm in the frigid heights. Normally one would expect to get frostbite. All she felt on her mostly exposed skin was a refreshing breeze. And nobody was up here to decide that she was being immodest, or a pervert.

She? No, up here Rhosh would be jea. That title brought forth the thought of the word treasure. A better spelling would be trejear. That sounded about right. The name that honored jear life and spirit. Nothing up here was jear's to own. Only to be part of. The absence of sound made jear wonder and shiver in fear of the source of such a power.

Up and to the left Rhosh flew on the wind. Jea closed jear eyes. Was that West? Unknown. After getting drenched and pummeled by moisture and frost, jea burst up with a trail of cloud puffing around jear feet. The light was harsh here, so Rhosh kept eyes closed. The change from dark to light was too drastic. Jea used that shock to heighten the senses.

Nothing still. Unease in the gut. Another sense rarely used. What was that? Jea felt a presence from above and close. No sound but pressure. The air was pushing down and so gently that jea barely noticed even in with jear momentarily heightened senses.

The Air jzeamslelves pushed Rhosh and jea went willingly, just a drift to the left and a spin to face where jea'd been.

The silence felt otherworldly and in this foreign space Rhosh touched that which could not be heard. With the eminences of the right palm jea thrust forward. A blade and pole shot down from above. Jear palm rammed into the pole which send an unwelcome shudder into jear chest. Jea clenched almost involuntarily and grasped the pole.

The force pulled Rhosh's arm and body downward rapidly, nearly into the cloudsea again. Rhosh groaned. With both hands - one strained now - jea pulled up the weapon.

Was this the thief? Or was the owner the one that had stolen all sound? Looking up was a mistake because a figure fell down at her. A masculine shape with a bluelake coat and sleeves. The "man" Rhosh would call him for now, descended with a boot that knocked the spear out of jear hand.

Who are you woman? His silver-blue eyes asked. He didn't seem to mind that his spear had missed. Was this the source of the silence?

The clouds were dense here and yet she saw beyond the other person an impossible island in the sky. These must all be the interlopers to her sanctuary.

She could feel the pain of Soil and Grass and and Rock and all the life the lived among them, floating there - ripped from where they belonged. Where they yearned to return.

Rhosh ignored the man as easily as jea ignored the silent h in jear name, as easily as forgetting jear own halitosis. Jea spun and arched and rushed up, over toward the strange floating island. A shard of steel suddenly emerged from out of jear upper left side and into jear left armpit. Rhosh landed on the landed on a dirt portion with bare feet and hands. Yes, even the Air and the Winds are offended. You are not alone in your suffering.

His - her - their - jear - blood pooled to join the elements. The Sky yearns for its voice back, was all Rhosh thought of in that moment.

The island began to descend. Rhosh felt a weightlessness. Suddenly she felt her femininity return. The thinfur masked the loss of blood and cold that would normally accompany such a mortal wound. Rhosh prayed to Water, all around, ever-roiling of and forming the clouds. Le'falyn as it was called - water with a will of jzear own - gushed into her wound as she pulled the spear out from her right hip. The tunnel of violently torn organs and flesh was filled in by Le'falyn that loved her. The spirit joined hers and healed her wounds.

The man landed gently on grass behind her. The Spear was on the ground next to where Rhosh knelt. The man reached an arm out. Rhosh grabbed the spear and swung. The weapon was to heavy and awkward, so the man easily knocked it away with his armored forearm . There was no sound of course, but she felt the vibration jolt her.

Moments after contact - something hit her ears. A powerful force that popped air inside her ears. The evanescence of steel on steel rang out. What was that? She tried to think of why she was there. She was so light as if gravity did not exist.

The clouds grew dark and rose around the island - she remembered. The sky and sunlight was devoured. Lighting flashed repeatedly. Sonic booms reverberated. The elements of Air were finally reunited with jzear voice.

The man frowned at her. He held the shaft near the tip - and with Rhosh still holding the middle - clanged the edge on his steel arm guard. The sound rang out - until it ceased again. Thunder cut off. the force still hit them. Not even the background fuzz or ring remained. Even that was stolen.

So this was the source of the sinister power.

____

Dithien frowned into the transluscent tunnel in the woman where his thrust spear had impaled her. What was she doing up here? She ought to be dead. Strange. The not-dead person swung his spear at him weakly. He thoughtlessly blocked with his left arm. Too late to take back. Sound returned rather rudely all around them.

His thoughts were interrupted by darkness enveloping them as the isle fell rapidly to the surface. Lighting both gave vision and blindness in turn. Thunder rumbled. Dithien's peace was disturbed.

He needed to return to his safe space quickly. He yanked the spear and banged it on his gauntlet to cease the sound again.

His tension fell away instantly. He looked at the woman. She wasn't really a threat. He'd have to stop trying to end her existence. He crawled toward the levitation totem wedged into the ground at one end of the land mass. It felt more like drifting, but he made it. Somehow the runes had been made null, although they were still intact. Merely lost their glow they did.

Could he rerun the conduits he'd carved in the wood or would that destroy all his work and bring them all to a gravitational doom? He studied his carvings. There was a way. He quickly ran his fingers up to reverse some of the runes. Then he poured his own formula into the source runes...and...the...runes started glowing! Same color as his eyes. He added another formula of liquid for a hint of green. That would stop them from flying into space. That would be other type of gravitational doom.

The isle gently settled at the surface of the cloudsea a minute later.

Dithien begrudgingly clanged the spear back on his gauntlet. He thought they might as well have a chat. The sounds were few enough up here that he could tolerate a short conversation. Then she would have to leave. He'd need to recover for a while after.

"Well... what are you doing up here anyway?" He asked.