About Amahle (a story)

Amahle – the Making of a Dark Mage

Amahle wasn’t obviously powerful, which meant she was often underestimated. Which suited her fine. It meant that when she was ready to do battle, she often won.

Some of her friends called her a party demon. Never a week went by that she wasn’t deep in a mosh pit; center of an orgy; lead attraction or demo at a dungeon; avid fan at a match between two brilliant warriors; raising the roof at a concert; whirling and dancing like a dervish. But it wasn’t like old times when they had spiritual dances in the center of the village. And she needed to collect the energy she used for her works. She was really careful about not spending her own on spellwork. Noone seemed to notice that she may have been in the center, but it was as a very still spectator. They just knew she was in the thick of it.

Some of her friends called her a collector. She spent time in the fields and forests collecting fresh stems and seeds for her potions and poltices. Most of those around her thought she must be a fantastic cook, because almost everything she collected could just as easily be used in a stew or casserole as a powerful incantation. And she knew that noone would come to harm in her kitchen. Which mattered to her since she had small children underfoot.

Some called her a librarian. She was always looking up some spell or history of a prayer or power. She never opened a veil without knowing just who or what was on the other side of it. She was the keeper of the family grimoire and bought or borrowed old ones from wherever she could collect them. But when she was in a gathering, she let others do the talking. She hid her knowledge. She rarely wrote her own spell, but relied on those from the grimoires that were obviously tried and true, Worn edges and hand-written notes in the corners.

But most of what she did as a mage was to live a normal life. With family and friends close to her hands whenever she could be with them. She wanted someone checking in with her, supporting her, loving her. She wanted to be seen as an ordinary, village woman. And nothing else. She hid in plain sight.

Because the next time she went up against the forces of the dead and damned, she wanted to be grounded in love. She wanted to come from nowhere, to be unexpected. It was her only hope of winning the day.

Meanwhile she lived her life, studied with her priest and fellow magicians and watched. For some sign that it was time for the next battle.

Waiting for a demon to call out for her… Amahle!

Amahle – the Making of a Watcher

What does a watcher do?

Well Amahle thought it meant a mix of training with people who were ready to fight evil and learning the craft with them. She also thought it meant looking for hot spots of where evil kept coming back to and doing what she could to prevent the next uprising. To put wards down and make the place a bit less cozy for the spirits. The busy work of being who she was.

So she had the latest and oldest ideas of what kept evil at bay and read all the lore of their travels so she could track them and make their life less comfortable for them. Find out where they walked and where they gathered, so she could make the places in-hospitable. So hopefully they’d move along?

Even the slightest opening seemed to be taken as an invitation and she didn’t want that. It was like leaving water standing and wondering why mosquitos came by often. Or leavng garbage bins out and wondering why raccoons visited.

Because it was easy.

At least she wanted to minimize their interaction with humanity. She wanted to contain them.

Unlike the shows on TV, Amahle and her friends weren’t kick-ass martial arts fighters. Their focus was on wards and spells that reduced the power of the spirits. And they didn’t often chatter with the spirits either. It gave them too much opportunity to gain insight with the humans, which can always be used against them. To weaken their autonomy from the spirit world. To confuse and frighten them. It was always about the spell work. Which doesn’t exactly play well on TV.

And then there were the prophecies…

If you understand the patterns in the interactions of evil and humanity, you have a better chance of predicting their behaviour and interupting it. So you ask questions when you hear of their interactions. What does this entity want? And how can this human who is being targeted provide it for them? What is the nature of the entity? And what attracts them to humans? Those questions are tells for much of what follows.

The last thing you want to do is humanize the spirits. They have different motives and will always be self-serving and self-aggrandizing. If you underestimate them, you place your soul in danger. And the danger is that you will be dragged into the spirit world before your time. Or worse… the person you are guarding will be. And you will have to live with that.

It’s also why Amahle never used human blood in her works, or used the psychic energy from one human, especially not her own. There was no good reason to promote attachment between the demonic and humans. Especially not at a spiritual energy level. And no excuse for offering your own body as their host either. It was far too dangerous! Once in, they left residue that made further occupations easier. Which you don’t want to do. You want to make their work harder.

And that is what Amahle taught as well as practiced as a watcher. It was a critical view. One that earned her much respect among her fellow mages and watchers.

Amahle – the Making of a Priestess

I am the granddaughter of the sun and moon,
the people who came here to find food and love
find faith and renewal for them and their grandchildren.

I am the child of the Creator
and try to live and love up to his expectations
though many before me have tried and failed
Maybe it’s not the success but the effort that is praised?

I am the soul of my family
Those who have come before and those yet to come
I feel their hearts beat in my own
I feel their steps wander with mine.

I am the heart of my people and my land
Here to forage and nurture it’s plants and animals
Praying and working for it’s renewal.

I am the next drop of rain, the next beat of light
that falls on my face and the smile I claim
when they take my breath away in awe and surprise

I am the relief, calm, joy and prayer
that bring me back when the trixster has visited
And I am glad for this dark humour
So I can be taught his lessons.

I am daughter, sister,
I am wife, mother
And I am me most of all

As it should be.

Amahle’s True Form

And as night fell, Amahle placed her clothes in the basket she kept just inside the door of her house and stepped outside. Taking her beginning steps as her true natured self.

Her body stretched up and up and up. Her skin became scaly and thick. And her blood ran cold. Her snout became more pronounced and her teeth grew at a frightening speed. Her claws tried to out-pace her teeth.

She raised her wings from where they were folded and flapped them. Shook out the days’ kinks.

And let out her first roar. So loud, the window-panes of the house shook. Yet that was just the first one. When she was at her weakest. But it was enough that her husband’s head went up and he answered back. He adored his wife, however she chose to present herself.

He met her in the air and let out a puff of lust for her. They flew past each other, almost like they were dancing. Then they batted each other with their wings and snouts.

And he mounted her.

It wasn’t an easy take-down though. With long teeth and claws, how could mating be easy? He always had new scars in the morning. She was a terror and he loved her just like that.

No other force could penetrate their scales, but each other’s teeth and claws. Nothing else could hurt them but each other’s fire-breath. Where most animals would run in terror, they were driven closer by this show of strength and force.

They were rutting like they were ready to destroy the world.

There was nothing soft or smoothe about their movements. Wings batted, teeth bit, claws gouged and their legs wrapped around each other for more.

They only had a few hours of night left and they wanted all the fury and pain they could gather before they had to hide their power again.

But they did it to protect their young. Till they left the nest. The people around them were so superstitious. They didn’t believe any of their kind could be anything but evil.

If only they knew… The dragons were here to be guardians for the people. For now anyway. Till the end of the world.

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