Ribbontail: Enter Emalia
Chapter 19: The Promise


Author's Note: Please read my artist's comments before continuing. :3
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The fire that once lit Kerberos’ house had burned itself out very early overnight. Ribbontail awoke suddenly and unexpectedly, the chill of the night piercing her bones. The biting cold and the darkness were the first things the wolf felt as she regained her senses: as shadowed as the room was, she felt suffocated and crushed.

“You are awake now?” whispered a voice from behind; it was Kerberos, his words barely audible. In his mouth he carried a dimmed lantern, which tinkled lightly as he approached.

Ribbontail squinted and turned to come face-to-face with the large beast, her eyes straining to make him out. “I guess. I just...” her sentence was cut short with a large yawn.

In her waking daze Ribbontail could barely discern the time of day; through the single window no light shone, and she could see clearly that the nighttime stars still gazed down upon them. Ribbontail yawned again and turned to the old man. “What time is it?”

“Four in the morning,” he replied.

“Why... why’d you get me up so early?” In a most ungraceful manner, Ribbontail got to her paws- leaving her two friends to snuggle back together- and found a spot to stretch. Halfway through this gesture she fell back down into a laying position, resting her head tiredly on her paws. “It’s too early to get up...”

Kerberos once more moved towards the girl, whispering towards her as though he did not want to wake PuppetRibbontail or O’liday. “There is something I must ask you, Ribbontail. Something very important.”

Gently rubbing her eyes, Ribbontail blinked through the darkness. She looked up with a look of forlorn and discomfort. “I’m tired. Can’t you ask me in the morning?”

“This is a matter I’d like to discuss in private, lassie,” Kerberos whispered, “It’s best that your friends are asleep. Come, let’s go outside.”

“I...” Ribbontail almost objected again, shaking the sleep from her eyes. “Okay... fine.”

Still half-asleep, Ribbontail stumbled to her feet and stood for a long moment, watching as the old man picked his way through a chest in the corner of the room. In her tiredness she paid little mind to it, but she noticed the beast pick up a large box-like object.

Then the girl finally mustered the energy to follow him; aided by the dim lantern, the two crept across the room and out the door without a sound.

Outside the temperature did not differ from the hut. Moreover, it seemed worse. As cold as ice, the desert outside seemed frozen: it was like an arctic desert, far different than Ribbontail had expected. Her fur trembled as she shivered in the night, puffing to see her breath evanesce into the air.

Kerberos turned to Ribbontail, and she saw in this moment that with his centre remaining leg he held something- a book of some sort. “There is someplace I would like to take you,” he said, “I am sure you would like to see a beautiful sight, would you not lassie?”

Yawning one last time, Ribbontail nodded.

Out across the desert the two set, heading away from the house at a slow pace. The young Ribbontail took such a time to admire the stars above, glimmering like luminous angels. Like ornate, glittering fish in a pond, they seemed to dance in the blue-black nighttime sky.

As the two began ascending a steep dune, Ribbontail finally lifted her head and opened her mouth, but Kerberos stole her words. “It is beautiful, isn’t it lass?” he mused, turning to gaze downhill at her with his large green eyes.

“Very,” Ribbontail agreed quietly.

Kerberos halted at the crest of the dune, sitting down on his haunches to take a deep sigh. Promptly Ribbontail followed this motion. The old man looked down at the young wolf and chuckled. “Like a sea of sand,” he purred suddenly as he gestured at the expanse that loomed before them. “Endless heaven.”

It took but a mere second for Ribbontail to see just what Kerberos meant by this. Into the distance flowed the great desert, a silvery blue in the moonlit night. The dunes were like the waves of the sea, rippling into the starry horizon. Miles and miles of this expanded before them, and Ribbontail’s eyes lit up as she took it all in.

“Amazing...” she breathed, watching her breath as it puffed in the night.  

The beautiful, cloudless desert night would’ve kept Ribbontail’s attention for hours. She stared, blank-faced (and quite amusingly, still half asleep) and gaped at the astonishing visage. But the next remark that came from Kerberos- as kind as it was- startled her.

“Ribbontail, I wanted to ask you about  your relation to the gods.”

Lifting her head and turning sharply, Ribbontail whispered, “What?”

Kerberos’ eyes never moved as he smiled, gulped, and shook his head. “Yesterday as you and your friends were chatting with me, you reminded me of something in the back of my head. Well lass, I spent much of last night pondering this. It was just this morning when I recalled just what it was: you and your guardian PuppetRibbontail both remind me of the goddess Riddle.”

Ribbontail hesitated a moment before responding with a meek, “We... we do?”

Almost timidly, the old Kerberos nodded his lion-like face and lay his book down on the sand. “Here is an old book my mother gave to me, many many years ago,” he continued, “a collection of sorts of old Emalian myths and tales. How adept at the gods are you, young ‘un?”

“Um... I don’t know many. Just one,” Ribbontail recalled the story Pola had told her a week ago, after she had first arrived in this world.

The cover of Kerberos’ book was dusty. Kerberos leaned forward and brushed this filth away, revealing its lovely face. Bound in a wrinkled black fabric and inlaid with intricate silver lettering and designs, the book’s cover bore letters of a language Ribbontail did not know. They glittered beautifully in the starlight.

“The story of Alpha and Riddle,” Kerberos began as he parted the book’s covers, flipping through yellowed pages, “Is a tale I know well.”

Kerberos cleared his throat.

After much browsing, Kerberos came upon a page in the book adorned with bleached pictures and tiny lettering. He ran his hooves along the page, rephrasing the text almost by heart, “You see, this is a tale my mother once told me. It is a legend that dates back to when the god Eclipse first grew hatred for Emalians. He was jealous of the Emalian gods, and thus attempted to create ones for himself. There were five of them, lass: Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta, and the greatest of them all, Omega.”

Now at full attention, the young Ribbontail leaned in closer to give the opened pages a closer look. Across the pages sprawled a wondrous scene. It reminded her very much of the old Chinese paintings she had seen in her history books at school. A piece of conflict, two small armies of beasts faced each other in divine confrontation.

On the left page were the Emalian gods Ribbontail recognized much, led by two flowing oriental dragons. They seemed proud and divine, riding along a carpet of clouds. On the right rose five beasts she hadn’t ever imagined: a great skeletal nightmare, a gleaming white draconic bird, a towering and many-legged wolf beast, a Medusa-like sea serpent, and a fiery dragon that seemed to rise from a billowing cloud of smoke. Leading the right-handed beasts was a tiny illustration of Eclipse; Ribbontail recognized the feline instantly.

“Eclipsian gods... and the Emalian gods?” Ribbontail questioned, “what happened to the Eclipsian gods?”

Kerberos smiled. “Why, lassie, they were defeated by the Emalian gods of course. They were not full gods in the first place: mere demi-gods! In the Great Battle- I’m sure you’ve heard that tale- the Emalian gods overpowered the Eclipsians and cast them to death. But Riddle, you see, was greedy. She captured the god Alpha and enslaved her in the tiny body of a wolf.”

Turning the page, Kerberos gestured for Ribbontail to come closer. There, on the next page, was a similar-stylized scene of Riddle and a creature that appeared identical to PuppetRibbontail. Riddle stood before the little creature, holding her on a leash as though she were her master. Large letters sprawled across the scene. Kerberos took the liberty of translating for Ribbontail. “Love, Protect, Obey, Respect,” he said, “That is what the demigod Alpha was commanded to do.”

Ribbontail stared down at the image. The depiction was almost identical to the real thing. Back in the Realm of the Gods, Riddle had treated PuppetRibbontail like a meaningless slave. “So PuppetRibbontail is... an Eclipsian? An Eclipsian slave?” thought Ribbontail.

The young goddess then turned to ask the old man this question. But he seemed to pick up on her confusion, “This book does not mention Alpha under any other name, but her appearance is unmistakable. Ribbontail, where did you get your Guardian?”  

Ribbontail gulped, lost for words. The old beast just sat hunched over his book, his eyes locked on the girl. When at last it seemed as though she could say nothing, Ribbontail lowered her head and her eyes drooped. “I got it from my mother...” she said, but the knot in her throat impeded any further explanation.

“You are a God-child,” Kerberos speculated, “Ribbontail, the God-child of Riddle. You two are both wolves, this Guardian of yours resembles Riddles’ slave Alpha... you seem to have no need for food either. To me it adds up. Are you, Ribbontail, the daughter of Riddle?”

Shifting uneasily, Ribbontail gave Kerberos a look of deep regret.

Her eyes alone seemed to answer the old beast’s question. He rose to his feet, a shining smile creeping across his face; his own emerald eyes lit with joy and honor. “A God-child! At last, the Gods have sent down a tangible sign of hope!”

Ribbontail watched helplessly as Kerberos laughed and wagged his short deer-tail. From the toothy grin it was evident how happy this beast was. “Hohoo!” he cheered, “such a blessing that the fates chose that you sought my help. Have your mate O’liday sip from my teacups, sleep in my own home. Lassie-god, I am truly honored!”

Lowering his head, Kerberos slammed the black book shut and gave Ribbontail a single graceful bow. He was undoubtedly humbled, but all Ribbontail could do was watch. “Th-thank you,” Ribbontail replied. She gave the old man an uncertain pat on the head. “But really, I think I might be putting you in danger.”

Kerberos lifted his head, his scraggy muzzle trembling. “What do you mean by this, death-goddess Ribbontail?”

“I... I had a dream last night. I saw that evil Eclipse. He knows that I’m here on Emalia, and he said that I must be killed at all costs!”

At the sound of the evil god’s name, Kerberos’ eyes lit up with a youthful ferocity that age could not dampen. He bore his hooked teeth and clicked them together. “Send that Eclipse down here, I shall rend him in the name of Ribbontail,” he declared, “If he wants to harm you, he and his Eclipsians will have to go through me.”

Ribbontail was surprised at the sheer audacity of the old beast. But the memory of OmenBeast was enough to drive back this feeling; the aged Kerberos was wizened and obviously an accomplished fighter, but he was no match against the giant OmenBeast. “In his dream I saw him send for an Eclipsian called OmenBeast,” she explained hurriedly, “When I first came to Emalia a week ago, I was attacked by him. He’s a horrible monster!”

“No ‘horrible monster’ is a match for me, lassie,” stated Kerberos, “I’ve slain many and frightened off even more. And knowing that the Gods have sent down a child of theirs, I will fight with twice the strength.”

Doubtful of how to reply, Ribbontail gulped and once more found that she couldn’t find the words to say. The silence was awkward, and for a brief moment the sounds of the desert night flooded Ribbontail’s ears. It was in this short minute that the feeling of the icy chills returned to her. Ribbontail shuddered and clattered her teeth audibly, curling into a tiny ball to keep herself warm.

“Th...thanks, Kerberos,” she finally managed to whisper, “but I really think we should just run; I don’t want to put you in danger. OmenBeast is an awful creature. He also knows that I’m Riddle’s daughter, and he wants to kill me really bad!”

“Ribbontail,” Kerberos said to the girl with a strong kindheartedness in his voice, “to fight for a God-child would be my eternal honor. For many years I was told the stories of the great Gods and those bloody Eclipsians. To know that I could ever meet a God’s child in my life... that is something I would die for.”

Without thinking Ribbontail shook her head, instantly objecting with a sharp, “No you can’t. It’s too dangerous. You don’t know just how bad OmenBeast is; he almost killed me.”

Ribbontail’s eyes were now wide with regret, glimmering golden in the pale moonlight. She fixed the old man with this repentant stare, but all he did was shrug and turn back to his book. With a quick motion he flipped the binding back open and leafed through the old pages.

After a second of searching the elderly beast passed the book to Ribbontail, gesturing to the opened two pages. Once more she looked down upon an oriental-inspired scene, complete with faded colors and a border of inconceivable ancient lettering.

The scene depicted an almost dance-like fight between two animals, one of which Ribbontail recognized instantly. It was Natas the Brave, the robe-adorned goat who took the title of god of Darkness. He dueled with a large spider-like Eclipsian, who in the illustration towered above him like a nightmarish apparition.

“Bravery,” Kerberos explained as he ran his hoof across the picture, “is something the Gods were known for. In the Great Battle thousands of years ago, when the Eclipsians first turned against Emalians, the Gods did not turn and flee. They stood their ground and fought valiantly.”

Ribbontail lowered her ears and sighed, knowing that this was true. A proper God of any kind would never turn and run from danger. “I guess... that means I have to face my fears? I’ve got to face OmenBeast?”

With a single shake of his large head, Kerberos mumbled, “No. We must face OmenBeast, whenever he chooses to appear. To rely on you alone is like relying on a little boy to do a man’s heavywork.”

The young goddess nodded, silently giving him a docile grin.

“This is what the book said, in the tale of the God-children,” Kerberos said, “That the children of the Gods would someday visit our world. If I recall, it mentioned that they could not fit the shoes of the Gods just yet... but they had to grow into them, rather.”

“It’ll take a long time...” Ribbontail mumbled, nodding as she recalled Sasha and Pola having said a similar thing, “I hope I can do it. I know I have to...”

Kerberos retrieved his book and propped it under his center arm again, placing a hoof on her shoulder. “I’m sure you can do it. M’lassie, I’ll be there for you all the way. This I promise.”