Free Eramane by Frankie Ash

breath.
    “And the voice in the chamber?” I ask.
    “That was one of my servants; they like to stay in the shadows.”
    “If you did not want me to be afraid, why did you not fetch me yourself?”
    “It is not wise to approach a fearful animal, Eramane. I wanted you to come out on your own.”
    I take in what he says, analyzing his explanation. And despite all that he has offered, he has yet to explain why and how he visited me at Samiah’s and the river. I listen to his words in my head, trying to make sense of it all. He must be a summoner or a type of caster, or both. With this conclusion, I again find myself fearful. I cannot speak to him, afraid of his ability to inflict whatever harm he wishes. I try to hold my tears, but they have filled my eyes, and I can no longer keep them at bay. He sees this and breaks my thoughts.
    “You are still afraid,” he says.
    “Why should I not be? You are a practitioner of the craft. You told me you were coming for me. And you expect me to feel safe? Who are you!” I blurt out swift and sharp. I could bite my tongue off. My lips tighten as I regret having opened them.
    “I am Adikiah, and this is my home, my mountain,” he says. “But what good is all of this,” he gestures to the extravagant room, “if my eyes are the only ones to behold it?” He sees that I am unsatisfied with his answer. “I know of your loneliness, of desire for more than what is allowed for a young woman. I noticed you walking through the streets of your village during its festival, the empty look on your face. No one there can give you what I can, Eramane,” he finishes.
    I am not sure if this is real, for it feels like a dream. When am I going to wake?
    “This is not a dream for you to wake from in the morning,” he says.
    “You can read my thoughts?” I ask, frightened and offended.
    “No, I cannot read your thoughts, though your face I can.” He offers his hand. “Come, a meal awaits you. We have much to discuss later, but first let us eat.” I hesitate only a moment, for my hungry belly will not wait any longer.

    We sit at the long table in the room of candles and moonlight, and I watch in silence as something inhumanly human enters the chamber. It is tall and thin. Even underneath a thick black cloak, I can make out its emaciated features. Softly uttered words from Adikiah’s lips send the cloaked being out of the chamber, but in moments several more return with plates of food. I assume them to be his servants. I reflexively lean away, as one of the servants places a plate in front of me. I get a good look at this one. It is tall and thin, just like the first one I saw. It may in fact be the first one; I cannot tell. The face of this servant is masked by dark shadows cast by its cloaks, as if it has no face at all. The servant has long, skinny fingers, the color of a dull gray stone, with long, ragged fingernails that taper into points. I do not study the servant for very long before the smell of my meal reaches my nostrils. I turn my focus to the plate and forget about everything else; I just want to eat.
    I am eating meats from animals I have never tasted before, and I cannot remember ever being as hungry as I am at this moment. I tear at the food, as if I am eating for the first time. The shadowlike servants scurry about, replenishing our plates with every bite. Adikiah makes only small gestures, and they grant his every command. These tall figures unsettle me; they are not human. I look across to Adikiah.
    “They frighten you,” he says, looking at the servant next to me.
    “Yes, a little … they are not human.” I strain not to offend them, but the longer they linger, the more uneasy I become.
    “No, they are not human. They are mere remnants of their previous form,” he states, as if his explanation is a cure-all to my rising fear. My eyes keep careful watch on the servant closest to me. Adikiah notices my discomfort and orders the servants away.
    “They are my