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OC SPOTLIGHT: Zaray // mostly sfw?
🕑 Added 2019-10-31 16:23:16 +0000 UTCcountless lifetimes ago, long before mortality, khuthlya the dragon god created the first of his children, a dragon people called the rhaajim. unbeknownst to khuthlya, the lord of the sun shamassah put his heart and spirit through a test. when he passed, shamassah rewarded him by dipping one of his draconic children in the fires of the sun, and so the first golden dragon came into being. the child, roshan, grew up a warrior, a lesser god in his own right and every bit his father’s son but likewise marked by the sun, his soul ablaze with the same bright light.
roshan was a general in the war against the gatekeeper, which only ended when shamassah tricked and trapped the gatekeeper in the sun--his own realm. it went from a palace of light to a prison of insanity, and as a result the sun god himself and all his spirits went mad. roshan, too, lost his mind.
only the order of sun knights, and a few others who refuse to forget, now remember and revere shamassah and roshan as they once were. all others call the sun god hel’wusah, and know him as a trickster god of illusions and cunning. as for roshan he’s said to drive a blazing chariot across the stone ceiling of this underground world, going at a maddening speed. there seems no rhyme or reason to his mad chase, no destination ahead of him. eventually he always burns out and crashes into the desert, only to repeat the same cycle over and over once reborn from his own ashes.
*
zaray was born to an old aristocratic family of the supremacist elven kingdom that you may remember from other tales. she grew up a veritable princess, spoiled with every manner of luxury and comfort and thinking she had her everyone (her parents included) wrapped around her fingers. but as she came of age, a man named adan demanded her hand, and her family promised it to him without even informing her of this decision. it was then that she realised that her parents had designed her life as if she was just a piece in a game of power.
the elven kingdom was a shadow of itself, and in their efforts to regain their former imperialist glory, different dynasties had taken to different methods. some worshipped the gatekeeper, others sought financial prominence, and others still tried to build an army. zaray’s family belonged to the latter category, but they sought to marry their militaristic ambitions with the economic power of adan by giving him their daughter. she would be wed to a powerful ally and, if adan’s ambitions came true, become the queen of the reborn elven empire. like a beautiful statue she would adorn his palace, wonderful to behold but more importantly: quiet and obedient.
zaray could never have lived such a life. she was too fiercely intelligent, too headstrong, too independent. it was rumoured that sphinx blood ran in the veins of her family, but it had always been a weak strain at best--until zaray. there was something inherently noble about her, something strong and unbendable, like the attitude shared by all felines, big and small. she did, in fact, have a cat that she called ‘little lion.’ no-one knew where it had come from but it had been at her side since she was little, and people would sometimes remark on the similarities between the elven woman and her feline companion, saying they were both dainty in stature but strong in spirit.
on top of that she had always had dreams of fire, golden and liquid like pools made from sunlight. it never burned or hurt, and she would wake with a warmth in her heart and a feeling of power surging through her nerves.
naturally, she found the concept of being married off against her wishes as disgusting as she found adan as a person. as it became clear that her family would not accept her refusal, she decided that for the time being she would play along--while looking for a way out. she feigned filial obedience, accepting her parents decision, and took to manipulating adan. the man was absolutely smitten with her and if her parents had always given her everything she wanted, he seemed bent on outdoing them tenfold. he gave her gold and jewels to wrap her neck in, priceless silks to drape around her body, rare delicacies to melt on her tongue, the finest wine to grace her tastebuds. all she gave him in return was empty promises, toying with his heart while plotting his demise. not that the love he felt for her was anything but twisted, viewing her more as property than as a person.
as the daughter of a prominent family and the bride-to-be of the man who sought to make himself king, there were others who tried to win her favour as well. amongst them was the high priestess of the cult of the gatekeeper, who invited zaray to her lavish banquets. during one such festivity the cult leader showed off wansa, her prized slave, but something drew zaray to sneak away during dessert and seek wansa in their private pool. where others had wanted wansa to use their prophetic sight and tell them a future of power and fame, zaray wanted simply to chat to someone else in a gilt cage, and perhaps cool herself in the pleasant waters. a cautious friendship blossomed in this the most unlikely of places, and in reward wansa eventually tells her what they can see in her heart. there is a fire inside you, bright as the sun. walk where the cats go. gold awaits you in the desert.
a few days later, zaray finds little lion in the depths of the palatial library, having knocked a book from its shelf. the title makes the flames in her heart flare up: the gift of ubdyi.
witchcraft.
there’s many tomes on the subject, and zaray reads them all. she copies the symbols, repeats the words, asks for herbs and other ingredients under the pretense of using them for her baths or perfumes. but she knows that learning from books won’t be enough, and the desert calls out to her, louder and louder each day. ubdyi, the god of the desert, is also the god of magic. the dunes holds death for the foolish, but immense knowledge for those brave enough to seek it.
before she can go to the desert, it seems to come for her. one night when the candles burned bright and zaray sat with embers in her hand, pondering the fact that they didn’t burn her at all, little lion walked into her rooms like so many times before. the feline always came and went as she pleased, but this time a much larger shadow follows behind her, and the elven woman raised her gaze to meet that of a lioness.
the cat would often snuggle up in her bed, but next morning the servants were horrified to find that a full-grown lion had joined the cuddle pile. from that day on, two cats followed zaray’s every step. none of them every wore a collar or knew a cage, and whenever someone asked how zaray tamed them she’d reply “i didn’t.”
adan pretends not to fear the lioness, but her arrival merely cements the fact the fact that he can’t control zaray the way he’d like. as petty revenge he has her rooms searched, confiscating her books and notes. ‘what use does someone as pretty as you have of magic?’
that same night, zaray throws all her fineries and expensive gifts into the fire. it burns brighter than it should have, roaring up the wall and catching on the curtains, consuming the velvet of her bed, licking up the woven tapestries. in the confusion that follows the elf, the cat, and the lion leaves the palace. she walks barefoot into the desert with nothing but the heavy gold around her neck and the red dress on her body, a hand on the lioness’ back as she follows her home.
*
for the next few years, the occasional traveller would report stray sightings of a woman in the midst of a pride of lions, with torn and dusty clothes but jewellery that shone like the sun and her golden hair brighter still. they said the big cats brought her raw meat to eat and that even among such noble creatures she seemed the queen.
the desert itself had much to teach her, old wisdoms and secrets whispered by the millions of grains of sand if one would only care to listen. zaray learned forgotten languages through the soles of her feet, wandering wherever her lions led her, blood on her tongue, the heat burning gold into her eyes. she would often see a strange light shooting across the stone sky. sometimes it would feel like she was following it.
the path leads her to a labyrinthine temple, long since abandoned by mortals but as she lights a small fire on the altar she can hear the movement of its guardian overhead. from the dark emerges the shape of many limbs, the gleam of many eyes; te’oma, the arachnid caretaker of sacred places. even then, face to face with the huge spider, zaray is unafraid. he is of the desert, and she asks him to teach her more of its magic.
weeks later, she asks te'oma about the shooting light across the sky, and he tells her the tale of roshan.
after leaving the spider, she meets the vulture. zaray had heard of the daughters of khuthlya, people chosen by the god of dragons to hunt and take vengeance. among them is nevanna, an undead witch in a big black hat, rifle across her shoulder and death in her wake. zaray asks her about the secrets of power, and nevanna teaches her to harvest the souls of the living. it’s forbidden knowledge, not meant for mortals, and it makes zaray smile.
te’oma had told her that roshan’s blazing trail always end in a pile of ash, his fire gone out, his body weakened, his great spirit flickering in the dark. zaray can’t stop thinking about it.
the desert witch crosses paths with a small caravan and though the merchants and guards alike are wary of letting the lion woman into their midst, a veiled fortune teller known only as ‘cards’ beckons her to sit down for tea and a reading.
cards tells zaray that the self-proclaimed king of her past still hasn’t stopped looking for her, that others have suffered and will continue to suffer for it. but zaray regrets nothing. her path is forwards, and will only turn back towards adan once she has found a punishment for his cruelty.
in that case, said the veiled woman, follow the light.
after many years together, zaray says farewell to her lions, thanking them for everything. she sits alone in the desert, waiting for the fiery trail above and turning her steps in its direction. ever night it grows weaker and weaker, but every day she claims the soul of an unwary traveller and hides it away in her heart. she has lost count of how many nights and days she’s walked before the fading light falls from the stone sky towards the dunes beneath.
she finds him in the middle of a charred crater, flickering and pale. the dragon man’s scales are supposed to be golden, but now they’re ashen and dusty; once polished horns seem brittle and frail, fiery eyes now dull and grey. his warrior’s armour has broken and cracked, his hands become too listless to grip a sword. all strength has left his body, and his mind.
roshan is too weak to move when zaray kneels beside him and tenderly cups his face. for a brief moment he thinks that the woman in the red dress, neck clad in gold, must be a goddess. seeing her mortality, the divine rhaajim asks if she has come to consume him.
no, she smiles, i have come to rekindle you. and in return, i want your fire.
with that, the lion witch kisses him, and her breath carries the harvested souls from her heart to his.
like little embers nestled in her lungs they set his fading spirit ablaze. zaray can feel him revive under her lips, and when waves of flames wash over them both it doesn’t hurt her. she slips into roshan’s arms, straddling his lap, purring as his fire enters her.
*
it’s been decades since zaray’s parents last saw their daughter. with every passing day adan had become more and more obsessed with his lost bride, and in his narcissism and paranoia he suspected that zaray’s parents had deliberately hidden her away from him. they had begged for more time to find her and had spared no expense, but no search party, tracker, or magician had been able to pin her down.
when first they find her lounging in their banquet hall, suddenly returned after so many years of being lost to the dunes, they think it a blessing from the gods. she seems the same as they remember, and yet hugely different. there had always been a fire within her, everyone had always remarked on it, but now it’s … something more, and their relief soon turn to fear.
within minutes, their palace is consumed by fire. it spreads from house to house, seeking out the dwellings of her aunts and uncles, cousins and grandparents, every member of the dynasty who would have sold her off in exchange for power. in the end, nothing remains but ash and charred bones. and as one part of the city burns, another is drowning. the elven kingdom is no more.
as adan prepares to flee, zaray stands in his way. she gifts him a fate worse than death; a curse that consigns his soul to share the gatekeeper’s prison inside the scorching sun. you will find no peace on the other side of death. only insanity, and fire.
in front of adan’s eyes the flames that surround her solidify into a man, and that man shifts into a golden dragon. he carries her off, and adan would never see her again, except for in his nightmares.
instead of marrying a self-proclaimed elven king, zaray becomes the bride-to-be of a divine dragon. when roshan’s fires are at their height they burn together, bright and splendid; when he fades, she feeds him more souls, raising him out of the dark. they lay together under the stars, moving a small flame between their hands, and he vows that one day he’ll shows her the realms of the gods.
such sights are not meant for mortal eyes, but zaray has always refused to play by the rules. on that note, light-blooded elves (like her) and heavy-blooded rhaajim (like him) can’t have children together. there has been no recorded events of surviving offspring, but many tales of people losing their lives trying to carry such children. when first zaray tells roshan that life is stirring inside her, he thinks he’s going to lose her. but she soothes his worries, ensuring her lover that she has no intention of dying.
in what seems like defiance of divine order, she gives birth to several beautiful children, with the feline eyes of their mother and the golden scales of their father. they’re unprecedented in their mixture of elven and draconic features, half mortal and half spirit and capable of shifting from one form to another. not that zaray herself can rightly be described as mortal anymore. she’s the witch of embers, the dragon bride, the queen of fire. eons pass, and she doesn’t age a day. the world changes around them, more kingdoms rise and fall, but she’s timeless like the desert and he’s ageless like the sun.
at long last, once the mortal realm is nothing like it used to be, she tells roshan to burn her to death. once more he thinks he’s going to lose her, and once more she promises that she has no intention of dying. she loves him too much to leave him behind.
trust me.
roshan drowns her in the fires of the sun, the same that turned his own scales golden. when zaray emerges from those flames her soul has been freed from the shackles of mortality, bound to his by white-hot love. she’s no longer his bride, but his wife, and finally the fire she was born with can burn as bright as it was meant to.
---
aaand that’s the story of an elven diva and her bipolar dragon boyfriend. jokey summary aside, it’s a pretty mystical and folklory tale with several strange elements that are tied to the lore of this world at large, not to mention characters you’ve met before - remember adan from weshau’s story? it’s exciting to tie things together, and i haven’t even told the 'linchpin story' of this world yet (hint: the protagonist pairing of this world is iskandar and renza). i hope you liked it, and if you want to ask any questions about zaray, just comment below!
// art + zaray © me; roshan + adan + te’oma + nevanna + cards/chidimma © kubi.
