Author Games: The River of Night

Quarterfinals: Ramia Gamal

Under the cover of night, without the stars or moon to fight off a child's fears, Neith was the comforting presence that Ramia Gamal had clung to. Neith made her strong. Neith made her fierce. With her blessing cloaked around the young girl's shoulders, demons dared not lash their wrathful tongues or unsheathe their wicked claws. Neith was the first mother she ever knew. Although her touch was invisible and her tender words were nonexistent beyond the boundaries of Ramia's mind, she was a mother all the same.

The Demon Lands were her mother's hunting grounds. The thought had given her strength when she refused to lay her heart on the scale. She would not allow the others to see how her shoulders trembled or the way her fingers curled into fists in a desperate attempt to keep her face steady. The Demon Lands, she told herself, are a place of great suffering. I must be prepared. There will be pain-- there will be torment. I must remain unconquered. Yet, when Ramia walked through the door to the entrance of the Demon Lands, the world she entered was unlike anything she had prepared herself for. There was no pain, no torture, no swarm of a thousand, howling demons to tear her body apart. Instead, Ramia found herself alone-- under a sky of perfect midnight dotted with stars so brilliant they drew her eyes to the heavens. Ramia could hear the lyrics of the starry night playing for her ears. The cold breeze of the earth cut through her body, and the shifting sand that stung against her bare skin was a welcome promise of home.

A rutted path lay underneath her feet, stretching onward before her until it went up a hill and disappeared. Her body turned with the wind, arms clasped around her torso as she scanned the empty desert for any sign of the hell she'd envisioned. There must be some mistake. Eyes turned back to the path, she took a small step forward, unable to settle the unease in her bones. This is Egypt. Another step forward and she found herself following the trail that seemed so familiar. Yet-- the darkness has receded. The stars shine brightly. Almost as if the gods are at peace.

As she started her climb up the hill, however, all thoughts of peace left her mind. With each step, the smell of smoke became more powerful, its bitter taste dry on her tongue. Her nose crinkled in disgust, brow furrowing into a scowl as she climbed. At the top, she found the source of the fire, and all the color drained from her body. Below her was a small city, too small to house a palace but large enough to hold a temple at its edge-- a temple Ramia knew with each strand of her heart. And as she watched from above, on the outskirts of the city, the flames that consumed the temple burned brighter than any star.

Ramia had never run so quickly. Thoughts flying behind her, nothing else existed but the temple going up in flames. She knew every corner of the building, every brick placed into the solid earth was one she could recognize immediately. Delusions of salvation flickered through her thoughts as she pushed her way through the small town, passing shops and homes all closed down and silent. The smell of smoke forced its way violently down her throat, even from a distance, and Ramia felt her eyes burning from the stench. I can save them, she thought furiously. Her heart pounded grooves into the empty air, veins coursing hot with adrenaline. I can save them all this time. The illusion of laughter wafted through the air on tendrils of smoke, wolf-like faces under a foreign flag with tongues that longed for the taste of fire the way a dying man thirsts for water. Her feet pounded through the streets, twisting and turning to grow closer to the inferno. Ramia could have made her way their blindfolded. She had played in these streets. She'd grown up with the sights that now smoldered before her. The city had been her family when she'd had none to call her own, and the elder priestesses had taken her in when they saw the ferocity in her eyes.

Standing in front of the building, however, was different. Her chest heaved with effort as she stood outside the door, watching the flames lick through the empty windows. The heat of the fire was enough to warm her cheeks from where she stood with the cold of night at her back. A single golden coin lay embedded in the dirt, reflecting the light of the hell from which it had been lifted from. The temple burned like a bonfire. Orange flames licked at the charred brick, garish against the cool colors of the desert. Black smoke poured from every opening, filling her lungs to the brim with their toxins. Ramia's body shuddered with a cough as her eyes watered. She pulled away from the fire, trying to breath in any trace of fresh air. I have to go inside. Yet her feet stayed planted onto the dusty earth. I have to find her.