Ribbontail: Enter Emalia
Chapter 18: Of Spirits and Eclipsians

Author's Note: Please read my artist's comments before continuing. :3
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Later that night Ribbontail slept fitfully, plagued by anxiety and worry. In the straw bed Kerberos let her sleep in she tossed and turned, uncomfortable as she attempted to rest. But it was about midnight, with the gleaming white moon directly above, that the girl finally managed to doze off. She let sleep wash over her like a desert rain.

Not long after she fell asleep, Ribbontail was awakened by a sudden whispering in her ear. “Ribbontail, arise,” called the soft voice, “You have not forgotten about me, have you?”

Ribbontail flinched, her body aching and tired, and lifted her eyelids slowly. “S...Sasha?” she yawned, recognizing the harmonious voice instantly. She blinked sleep from her eyes and stumbled into a sitting position. “A...dream again?”

Still half-asleep, Ribbontail licked her lips and peered about. She had returned to the cold gray realm, with the mist enshrouding the world around her. It was as featureless as before. “A dream world...” Ribbontail thought silently, “Is this where Sasha’s spirit lives?”

The great white goddess, Sasha, was standing there already: she towered overhead with a motherly smile across her dragon-like features. With a wink of her beautiful white eyes the taurin dragon flapped her wings and nodded her head, as though she recognized Ribbontail’s thought.

Stretching her tired limbs, Ribbontail got to her paws and shot a drowsy smile up at the goddess. “Why...” she began quietly, “Why are you here again?”

“I spoke of this the night before,” explained Sasha, a look of fondness crossing her face, “That I would return to you with a message of great importance. Do you remember this?”

Ribbontail confirmed this with a nod. She did indeed remember, from her dream.

The celestial dragon continued with a graceful swish of her wings. She said nothing at first, silent as she brandished a long silver scepter from the strap that circled her waist. She held the luminous staff in one claw, then waved it at the cloudy curtains that surrounded them. “We are in the spirit realm, where we gods may come and go as we please” the dragon explained, “It is here where you can find the River of Life, the path to the spirits’ resting place, Heaven. When Emalian and Eclipsian mortals die, they come here to travel the river and arrive in Heaven.”

It was very strange hearing the word “heaven” used outside of Earth. Ribbontail cocked her head, her tired mind trying to comprehend the concept. “A river? So when people die in this world they cross a river? And they all go to Heaven?”

“Every world has a Heaven.” Sasha nodded, “But on Kuutamo, Heaven is a land of judgment: a gate of sorts. If you lived a righteous life then you may pass through to the higher Heaven. But if you lived a cruel and angry life, your soul is reborn back into the mortal world. If you are a malicious being, this cycle continues until you get it correct.”

Ribbontail cocked her head. “So what happens when you get to the higher Heaven?”

Sasha’s eyes closed for a second, then opened them slowly. As she did this, she brought a single finger up to her dragon lips. “That is not for you to know,” she whispered, “Only those who reach the higher Heaven may see what awaits them.”

“Please? Please can you tell me?” Now wide awake, Ribbontail swished her ribbon-tails, smiling her canine grin. “I’m going to be a god, right? Then why can’t I know?”

Silently the great dragon shook her head. Standing up from her sitting position, the white being drove the butt of her staff into the ground. A look of frustration glanced upon the dragon’s features for a moment. But Ribbontail let a sigh of relief escape her lips as she realized that this look was one of mere importance: Sasha had an itch on her tail, which she turned and scratched at.

Ribbontail smiled.

“Young one,” Sasha called after ridding herself of the itch, “would you like to see the River of Life? Higher Heaven is one phenomenon you may not see until your own ascent, but the River you may watch. It is a blessing to witness.”

Pausing for a moment, Ribbontail nodded up at the white beast. “Yes please,” she woofed politely, “Can I?”

With a graceful motion, Sasha turned and swept at the air with her silver scepter. The thick gray curtains of mist, at this, quivered in the air and parted; they shifted and swirled in the air, dividing as though they were sheets of linen.

A feeling of deep wonder flooded into Ribbontail as a gorgeous scene expanded before them. Behind the smoky mist spanned a great silver-purple river, surging by without sound or spray. It stretched far into all directions: to the left and right it reached, and the waterway was so wide that she could not see the opposite bank. And, like the rest of the world, it lacked any natural features: the cold stony ground simply gave way to its flow, quite unlike the reeds and shallows that natural rivers had.

“Wow...” she uttered, her golden eyes wide.

“Those are the spirits of the newly-departed,” Sasha explained, brandishing her staff out in the direction of the river. “They come from upstream and make their own way to Heaven.”

Awe clutching at her chest, Ribbontail was so captivated by the river’s beauty that her mouth fell open. Glimmering silently above the waters were fluorescent, white lights. Like fireflies they bobbed, flickering and glowing as they made their slow course down the river. Ribbontail was taken aback as she noticed that some bore ghostly images of animals- bipedal and human-like beasts, great fantastical beings, nightmarish creatures, and even tiny insects traveled on by.

Old ones, young ones, both ugly and beautiful in death. There were thousands of the flickering souls that moved past; to think that both Emalians and Eclipsians were here was astonishing.

“Are those what the spirits looked like? You know... when they were alive?”

Silently Sasha nodded, never turning away from the sight before them.

Many minutes passed as the two gods stood, silently observing the spirits pass by. They each seemed to be going their own pace: some rushed by, while others bumbled along lazily.

After much time passed, Sasha craned her head down to shoot a troubled look at Ribbontail. “It is horrible to think of what some of the mortals do to spirits,” she said unexpectedly, “Sorcerers, necromancers, voodooists and many other spirit-takers often tap into this river and steal souls for their magic and dark arts. On the flipside they may even take the spirit’s body once they’ve left. Is that not appalling?”

Feeling sorry for the helpless spirits, Ribbontail gave Sasha a blink and a sigh. “Very sad... do Eclipsians do that too?”

“Yes.” Sasha lifted her head again and returned her scepter to the belt about her waist. “There are some Eclipsians that enter this realm and feed on the souls...”

Then without warning the curtain of gray mist flooded back into their view, a thick wall between them and the River of Life. Sasha stopped and wheeled about, turning and flapping her wings at Ribbontail. Her voice was filled with surprise. “Ribbontail, I almost forgot why I brought you here tonight!”

The young wolf jumped at this sudden motion. “What?” she gasped, “What is it?”

“A vision I had two nights ago awoke me from my sleep briefly, chilling me to the bones. It is of Eclipse and this Screech being that PuppetRibbontail slew. I do believe that you must see it.”

Confused, Ribbontail cocked her head and flicked her ears. “How do I... see... a vision? Is it like a dream?”

Sasha nodded and extended a great white claw, as though in a hurry. “Touch my claw and you may enter my memory,” she explained, “Believe me and you shall be safe: when you enter my memories nothing can hurt you, as it is a mere memory.”

Ribbontail’s poor mind hurt. “Entering a memory... how strange.”

Then Ribbontail extended a tiny blue paw, placing it in the great white dragon’s palm.
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For a fraction of a second the world around Ribbontail collapsed, becoming a vacant black void before everything exploded in a flare of color. Ribbontail stood astonished for a moment as the colors began to piece together, shades and hues mixing to become complete, tangible images.

Ribbontail blinked, shocked, as she found herself standing in the center aisle of a massive church. All around her rose the great structure, dark yet illuminated by balmy orange lights. The building itself had awe-inspiring architecture: graceful arches, a high domed ceiling, and glimmering stained glass windows.

To her left and right stood row upon row of mahogany pews. Ribbontail eyed them curiously: every single one was empty.

What caught Ribbontail’s eye was the stained glass motif that stood above the massive doors at the front of the church. The image was unmistakable: the moon and star silhouetting the sun. In the one week Ribbontail had spent on Emalia she knew the symbol well: it was the image of the Eclipsians.

“Hello?” Ribbontail called, snapping out of her fascinated state, “Anybody here?”

It was curious that Ribbontail’s voice did not echo. It was as though she were in a different plane as the church- like she wasn’t a part of this vision. “I guess that’s good... wherever I am, I wouldn’t be safe.”

A sudden laughing startled the young goddess, and she spun about at full attention.

At the back of the church, on a raised platform that stood before the empty pews, was a throne of sorts. But before the throne lay a strange feline: with the build of a humanoid and the features of a cat, he certainly was a beautiful sight to behold. He had lush white fur and long black ears, and a extraordinarily long, silky-furred tail. What further features he had Ribbontail could not see, as he wore a fine brown and blue robe, the hood of which had been drawn over his face.

The strangest thing about the cat-man was how atavistic he was acting. Like a kitten, he had rolled onto his back and was batting a rubber ball in the air, laughing quietly.

But despite this he retained a rather divine aura, a feeling of great cheer and glory that filled Ribbontail with an unusual warmth.

“This must be Eclipse, the evil god!” Ribbontail thought, suddenly at attention, “But I thought he was supposed to be evil! Maybe he’s...”

Ribbontail’s thoughts were cut short as a sudden booming sounded from behind. At the front of the church the great oaken doors burst open, and a murky gray light flooded into the church. A shocked Ribbontail turned to see a tall, bipedal elephant man come thundering into the building. “My Lord Eclipse!” he rumbled, dusting his fine purple robes. “I’ve a message for you! A Greater Eclipsian stationed on Emalia just arrived. It is Screech, he has been slain!”

“Screech...” Ribbontail whispered, “This must have been two nights ago...”

Shuffling by and passing straight through Ribbontail,- her of course being an unseen ghost in this memory- the pachyderm hurried across the room to the feline god. His aged gray face bore a look of nervousness and surprise.

In a flash Eclipse was on his feet, letting the rubber ball fall helplessly to the floor. “Impossible!” he breathed more in confusion than rage.

He flipped back the hood of his robe, revealing a beautiful feline face underneath. Though they were strange for such a seemingly wicked being, his features were almost perfect: he had a delicate cat-like face, with a neat goatee and flowing golden hair. What struck Ribbontail as odd was the gold aureole that floated behind his head; it was like a halo, the universal symbol of divinity.

“Ptaharamnan, how could this have happened?” he inquired the elephant. “Bring Screech’s soul to me!”

The priestly man- apparently named Ptaharamnan- turned and with a wave of a heavy hand gestured towards the door. Ribbontail gulped down the painful lump in her throat, following the priest’s hand.

Screech stood there, as abysmal and gaunt as he was in life. The figure hunched there did not seem to be the physical Screech, though, but a wraithlike projection. But it bore the same image; it was identical right down to the skeletal face, writhing neck and tail, and bloated- now shredded- organ at its center.

“That must be Screech’s spirit,” thought Ribbontail, “Just like Kerberos said... they come and see Eclipse personally when they die!”

Lumbering agonizingly, the wicked Eclipsian spirit made its slow way to where Ptaharamnan was standing. As it passed through Ribbontail she could see just what damage PuppetRibbontail had done to its physical being: the beast’s lower jaw and two front legs were cracked and bent awkwardly, and the organ clutched to its chest had been reduced to mere shreds. Its mashed face was barely recognizable, as though it had fallen face-first from the top of the canyon.

A gruesome chill ran down Ribbontail’s spine. Such a fall it and PuppetRibbontail had taken!

“My child!” crooned Eclipse as the beast arrived at the end of the church aisle, “What ever happened to you?”

With a piteous purring, the god threw himself at Screech and embraced one of the nightmare’s forelegs; even so, it dwarfed the feline. In a gesture of pure affection Eclipse buried his face in the creature’s matted fur.

“Screech told me that it was slain by a spirit guardian, PuppetRibbontail,” murmured Ptaharamnan, “under the command of the young goddess, Ribbontail.”

“Ribbontail? The daughter of Riddle the Cunning?” Eclipse released his affectionate grip on Screech’s leg and wrinkled his nose. “And in possession of PuppetRibbontail nonetheless. What is the meaning of such nonsense?”

Ptaharamnan swung his trunk and rapped his bulky hands on the Eclipsian tattoo on his forehead. “It is something of the Emalian godships, I believe. When an Emalian god has a child, they are sent into the mortal world to carry out missions-”

Disdainfully, the god Eclipse waved a paw to intercede the elephant’s words. “Of course, I remember this story.  Such garbage: why would the Emalian gods send their children into the dangerous world below?”

As though it were pining for its god’s attention, Screech uttered a tiny whine and nudged Eclipse’s side with its nose. Eclipse returned the gesture with a pat on its snout. He then continued with a sudden harsh tone, shooting a frustrated glare in Ptaharamnan’s direction. “So Ribbontail and Fidei were finally sent into the mortals’ world...” the god thought aloud, “Right into the center of danger. Who are we to not rid of them, before they start trouble for us?”

Ptaharamnan stroked his long trunk thoughtfully. “But it might be that the Emalian gods are smarter now. They seemed to have given Ribbontail a spirit guardian, as Screech explained. My Lord, it is PuppetRibbontail; she is a mighty being.”

“PuppetRibbontail is as not as terrible as you think she is.” With a solemn frown, Eclipse turned and gazed up at his great fighter. “Screech is a blessed child, but he is not the smartest- OR the strongest. Those Emalians got lucky, but next time they will not be so fortunate I’m sure.”

“So what is your command, my Lord? Shall we signal for the nearest Eclipsian to attack?”

“It’s best to get rid of Ribbontail, yes,” said Eclipse, “The last thing we need is another Emalian god.”

This time it was Screech who joined in, lifting his ghastly head and groaning assuredly. The monster of course knew full well how dangerous a goddess could be- it had been indirectly killed by one.

Eclipse paused for a moment to clasp his paws together, enshrouding them in the sleeves of his flowing robe. He then closed his eyes, sighed, and stood silent for a moment. After almost an entire minute of this muted somberness, Eclipse opened his eyes again. “Ribbontail,” he purred, “Screech does not lie one bit. I feel her presence now, somewhere in the Sandstone desert. Nearest her is OmenBeast, a mere three days away.”

Ribbontail whined audibly, suddenly caught in a state of shock.

“OmenBeast! And no more than three days from poor Ribbontail” boomed Ptaharamnan, “How auspicious, my Lord! Shall I send a messenger spirit to inform him?”

The feline god nodded.

Her ears drooping with fright at the realization, Ribbontail watched as Ptaharamnan brandished a tiny box from the belt strung across his chest. With a click the little package opened, and from its confinement snaked a thin white light. But it stayed an amorphous light for a mere second, as it quickly swirled and hardened, taking up the murky frame of a dove.

“A dove? As a...messenger bird?” thought Ribbontail as she quickly crawled closer. Though she knew she could not be seen or heard in this memory, she felt fear as she approached.

“Bring my regards to OmenBeast!” called Eclipse, lashing out with a paw to snatch up the white dove, “Tell him that he has my command: seek out Ribbontail, and SLAY her. He shall be rewarded graciously!”

Filled with a sudden fright, Ribbontail felt her lips part in a silent “no”. OmenBeast, no more than three days away! Ribbontail and her friends had tried so hard to flee from the ominous Eclipsian, and still it pursued them. “If Sasha had this vision two nights ago... OmenBeast can be here any day now!”

A fond kiss was placed upon the white dove’s head as Eclipse released the little messenger bird into the air. As it beat its tiny wings twice and evanesced in a puff of light, the feline god declared, “And let us rejoice when we hear the news of Ribbontail’s demise!”

An agonizing bolt of fear shot through Ribbontail as she turned and fled down the aisle, escaping the vision as the sound of the thee Eclipsians’ laughter echoed in the cathedral. Then into darkness she fell, as the images of the vision melted and vanished into nothingness.

Back into fitful sleep she was sent.