Nvrn stopped by the river, cupped their hands in the water but decided to just dig their face in and gulp as much down as possible. With a wet face they lean on a tree and caught their breath. Once they were able to breathe through their nose again, their ears twitched as they heard movement. The Ink usually never followed into the woods. It was too dark for them to see. Nvrn tasted the air for them. They left their tongue around their neck to have every sense they’ve left on the lookout for armed Ink soldiers. Maybe they should just fight them. They were a magical Ziyn, as well as New-English. They could take them on.
Nvrn was scared though. They’d rather keep running. They could taste the volcano behind them. They could run along the river, to the north or the south. They decided for south. They hoped the darkness would conceal them enough but-
“There they are! By the river!”
“Just give up, assholes!” Nvrn’s pace quickened. During their times in the desert they had seen New-English run faster on all fours. After going through so much trouble to gain hands, Nvrn would rather not use them to walk though. Usually Ziyn like them were born without hands, due to a genetic defect they gained through magical engineering. If you were a good enough alchemist, you could reshape the ends of your arms into hands. They were complicated appendages though and hard to get right.
Nvrn tried to always stay behind trees to maximize their chances to not get shot. Their ears ringed from the loud gunshots and were basically useless. Another loud bang and they tripped. They tried to stand back up but their right leg just broke away. The shot broke right through the bone. Nvrn tried to crawl forward, wrap their tongue around a tree and pull themself forward but it was pointless. They were forced to fight. Their tongue shot forward and wrapped around one of the three soldiers' heads, then squeezed until their head exploded. Ink tasted horrible. The others readied their guns and before Nvrn could do anything a bullet tore a hole through their head.
~~~
Nvrn woke up. At first they didn’t know what was wrong. But then they noticed they were able to see. They hadn’t been able to since the bright desert sun burned away their delicate Ziynian eyes, only used to the almost perfect black in the forests. They looked at their arms to find absolutely nothing. All they saw was their corpse beneath them, leg half ripped off and a messy tunnel from their left eye to the back of their head.
‘Am I dead?’ they thought. The Ink were gone, all three of them. Ink are hard to kill. As long as their bodies aren’t completely destroyed, the can just put themselves back together. Nvrn looked back at their corpse and reached out to touch it. They had no visible body but they still felt like they had one. Was this their soul? Magic was stored in the soul. They wondered if they could make their soul visible, at least to themself. It didn’t take long for them to create a black nebulous figure to represent them but it was barely visible. They tried to move their hair over the gunshot wound but of course their arm just passed right through it. Their shadowy tongue tasted nothing. They could only see and hear. What a shame, taste had grown to be their favorite sense. They would miss it. What were they supposed to do after dying though?
Nvrn had heard of the death angel, Zali, who would suck their soul out of their body with a kiss. Looking towards the volcano, Nvrn saw a strange figure in the distance. Antlers poked out of their head and they were completely naked. As they came closer, Nvrn heard them whisper:
“…tu rhon goth lev, tu rhon goth lev, tu mhor, tu mhor, tu mhor dharek…”
~~~
She was born, then she fell. A harsh but warm embrace caught her. Her skin felt heat biting at it, to no avail. She opened her eyes and saw the sky through a hole above. She tried to remember… remember anything. All she remembered were names… and a song. Oh, how this silence plagued her. Maybe it was time to let one of her tongues dance to this song.
“Tu rhon Goth lev, tu rhon Goth lev.
Tu mhor, tu mhor, tu mhor dharek.
Dharek, dharek, izhis betet.”
What a lovely sound. It was meant to be sung in a choir, by all the millions of her tongues to please the Tumor God. So it was written inside of her. She did not remember much from her life as a lifeless book. Books lacked skin to feel, eyes to see, brains to memorize. She could be glad she even remembered her previous incarnation. The Azciribek. The book that described the Tumor God and how to summon her and her children. Though it felt like the chapter on the children was not as old as the rest of the book. Strange. Maybe she should investigate her own origins. What place had she in this world anyway? Was she even meant to be? Or should she have burnt as a book in this soft hot rock glowing beneath her? She should get out of this volcano and find out who she was.
“Thunuk lunic, tuzir thunuk, lunic thev.
Thunuk sithra, lunic, ruthin.
Tu vuror cerra tu cilla nevra lev.”
Her feet submerged into the lava but supported her weight. She walked to one side of the volcano. Her hands and feet weren’t especially designed for climbing. The prophet of the Tumor God was described to have an uncountable amount of tongues and eyes. Enough tongues to sing her song, enough eyes to see her glory, her creation. While one tongue kept singing, two other were used to reach to the top of the volcano and pull her up. The children of the Tumor God were described as having prehensile tongues like that, but only one each.
“Rhain rhon, rhain dharek,
Unveth nevbetet aul varek”
Her song repeated. Maybe a few more tongues should chime in. What a soothing song. She wanted to keep an eye on her burning cradle. She had a millions eyes but only needed two on her. So she gouged one out and placed it over her birthplace. Another eye filled the spot in her head. With that, her journey could continue. The way back down the mountain was less easy and took longer to accomplish but in the end, her feet found flat ground. A forest lay at the foot of this mountain. She felt death nearby. Yes, before her laid a maimed corpse, bleeding pink, long tongue hanging limp out of their mouth. Their soul still remained above them.
“Are you Zali?” They asked. She interrupted her song to speak…
~~~
„Greetings.“ She just said, like seeing someone hovering over their own gruesome corpse is normal. However, a naked girl with antlers wasn’t normal either. At the moment, Nvrn was just glad they were seen.
“Are you Zali?” Nvrn asked again.
“Zali? No. I’ve been known as the Azciribek so far.” Her hand glided through her curled hair. She sounded bored.
“…Isn’t that that book?” Nvrn remembered.
“Yes. I am the book that described how to summon the Tumor God. The creation of the New-English also gets accredited to me, though, that handwriting...”
She looked up to the volcano spire and made a point to lick her lips, sticking her tongue out much further than necessary. “...not saying they don’t suit me. Seeing your corpse, you were one of her children too, hm?”
“…Why are you not a book anymore?”
The question sparked a memory, something written inside her. “Because I was supposed to become this. There is something I am to do.”
“You’re… an Akephalian?”
“Perhaps. Sorry, I only have memories of what was written within me.” The Azciribek eyed the sky above the volcano, hoping to spot whoever threw her in.
“Does your purpose have to do with me?”
“Unlikely.”
“You’ve already summoned the Tumor God, what more could you want?”
“Oh her?” the Azciribek pointed southwards, “That’s not the Tumor God. She just thinks she is. Really, an impersonation is all we can get. The Tumor God does not exist. But she is all that I need. That was never my purpose, to have her summoned.”
“What?”
“I’m not concerned with this world. I just needed to be made here. May that Acarou tear it apart, it matters little to me.”
Nvrn got angry. Angry from the confusion, the frustration of having been killed, the flippant way this evil book talked about their world. “Oh go fuck yourself. Self-important, edgy ass freak.”
“Hm… Zali might arrive to collect your soul any minute. Do you want to be here for that?”
“Are you sure you want to be here then? Gemoa selected her for a reason, you know.”
“I’m sure.” Azciribek knelt over Nvrn’s corpse and started taking the clothes off. Watching their body flop around as the living book shook it out of their hoodie made Nvrn’s hate personal.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Considerate of you to leave me some clothes. That may have been your life’s purpose.”
Nvrn’s intangible hands attempted to strangle her as if the desire alone could make it happen.
“Goodbye, dead one.” Azciribek wandered off, that quiet hum following her.
Nvrn lowered themself to their corpse, half-naked, lying like a dropped doll. She looked at the girl walking away in their clothes. Screw this, Zali could receive their soul later. They would not let that evil tome get away. They will see her burn.