“The desert was a canvas,” she overheard one of them say in the market. It was part of a larger sutra that the group recited amongst themselves. After this, she took a liking to eavesdropping on the balloonists. What they bartered for, the things they repeated. They spoke about what color the dawn was, the shapes and hues that were created with each morning. She liked it, she thought they were mystical and kind. Either by the village’s request or their own volition, they performed a rite once every month, she resolved to watch the next one. She wanted to see this Dawn Patrol, as they called it.

She usually rose with her own rhythm. Groggy, she slipped to the window and unlatched it. She even considered asking to go up in one of the crafts, but this time she was satisfied with just watching. 

An ancient village slept underneath the stars. 

She wrapped herself in something and sat by the window patiently. After a while of watching the night, something caught her eye. A shape appeared, topping the squat buildings in its vicinity. It glowed and swayed, becoming full until finally the ground released its grip. An orb made of canvas and light rose slowly, without fanfare into the darkness of the sky. Her heart warmed, and she tracked the balloon as it went steadily upward. Over the mountains to the east, the curious morning light altered the sky from speckled pitch to a hazy blue. She continued to peer at the balloon, growing smaller as its height extended. She did something with her left hand and covered one of her eyes with the other. In her mind’s eye, her vision crept so she could see the basket of the craft; it was made of a thick whicker, and she admired the way it was built. She was astonished to see two people in the basket! A man and woman stood watching the vista, no doubt with an extraordinary view of the imminent sunrise.

She imagined what the village looked like from up above. She pictured the marketplace in the center like tiles on a checkerboard. A smile crept to her lips as she imagined the two branching streams that flowed in ducts underfoot as strips of felt, moving underneath the desert canvas.

As the balloon rose, the duo in the basket began the rites. They presented items sacred to the Mother Sky, stones and beads all with connections to rebirth, new beginnings, and the morning. She admired the rites. The two balloonists then offered items to the Mother Sky’s offspring, the kin-gods of various occupations all received honors. A clay maternal figure with her children for the kin-god Lynflaed, who shaped all of the Mother’s beings supposedly from mud and clay. A small effigy honoring kin-god Hemish, a burnt offering for the star-god Daxas, who took occupancy of the Mother’s Sky’s domain at night. She peered through her mind’s spyglass and saw a bundle of lotus flowers held aloft by the woman, a small offering to Daedalus, who sculpted every Being’s mind including his own. The man performed a ritual tune on a small flute he’d produced to honor Daedalus. The Beings believed he enjoyed music. He didn’t, but she did. They continued offerings to the god-family while she fixed herself something warm. Returning, she looked on as the man and woman embraced. She saw the woman smile, held her husband’s face and they kissed each other. All of the world was bathed in the hue of dawn, the sun broke the crest of the mountains and everything was washed in light.  

Mornings really were a different color in Buena Suerte. The balloon was carried away by the natural currents of the sky, and she was satisfied with what she saw. The woman turned to leave the window,

“Indigo,” said a voice from outside the Workshop. Whirling, she approached the open windowsill. Below was a Suertan boy. He stood against the wall facing east fiddling with something in his hands, a tin cup with its contents long since drunk. He didn’t appear to know that the window was open. Indigo, he had said. 

“What are you doing?” She said. Her voice was cool like water, there was curiosity in her question. He made an amusing sound in surprise. He fumbled around for his words,

“Hi, Lady of the Shop!” He blurted, wincing even as the words came out. She rested her arms on the sill. She looked at him, he wasn’t a child nor an adult. He was fair and lean. Waves of brown hair shaped his face, she could tell he was chewing his cheek. All she had to do was raise her eyebrows to reiterate her question. What are you doing?

“I,” he said, “I wanted to come at first light to see the Great Artificer. I could speak to him,” he said. Behind him Buena Suerte was coming alive, the ambiance of the marketplace rumbling as shopkeepers opened their stalls. Across the lane, the owner of the parallel stall pushed open her windows. 

“Good morning Ms. Naida,” she called to the woman looking down from the windowsill. 

“Hello ma’am,” Naida said over the boy’s head. The woman who owned that stall had been there for years. Though the stall to the Workshop had been here longer than the village itself. Dad and a few loyal Beings had dug the large square by hand, and he constructed this stall in the southeast corner. He wanted easy access to the river, which he diverted in two channels around the in-ground square using his abilities, which he passed on to those who were loyal to him. An unintended consequence of working with Beings, they built a village around his Workshop. One of many cities where the Great Daedalus’s influence was the epicenter. 

Someone walking past had bid the youth good morning, which he returned. She watched him like a cat would a mouse.

“He isn’t here, business in the West,” She said and the boy was dismayed. Naida smiled, she knew Dad would freak if he knew how much she shared his business with normal people. He was like that. “What’s your name?” She asked. 

“I’m Andres,” he said. 

“You want to be an Artificer, Andres?” 

He nodded.  

Naida watched him for a moment. Beings were funny about being watched. She was Being herself but life with Dad didn’t always mean seeing other people. 

Right, the boy. 

She found it interesting how someone as young as him could want to be something like an Artificer, even when they didn’t know what that meant. The woman across the lane scolded the boy on Naida’s behalf. 

“Have a care young one, interrupting the great warlocks in their busy work, the teeth on you!” The woman said. The youth surprised Naida with his sharp tongue.

“I can’t talk to them? How will I know if I don’t try?” He said indignant. He began to say something else but the shopkeeper spoke over his head.

“He means no offense Lady, Buena Suerte has many bright young people. Though none are as upstart as a Huff.” She said, flickering Andres. Naida looked down at him. 

“You create trouble?” She said. Andres Huff’s face went red with fluster. 

“Don’t listen to villagers about making trouble, they don’t know what that means!” He said. She felt that little piece of her father in her, the nagging impulsion to retreat and leave these Beings to their devices. Naida could shut the window. Hold the light in a sliver in between the shutters, I’d be hurtful, certainly what her father would do. She breathed in then out, and the feelings faded. 

“Speak your mind li-ah,” Naida said, ending her sentence with a phrase indicating sincerity. It sounded funny to the Suertan’s ears. 

“I want Daedalus to make me an Artificer.”

“I am kin-child, and even then I was not Artificer by profession until the years made me so,” Naida said. The youth surprisingly held his mettle. 

“Then I could be his apprentice, his journeyman, I’ll be his footman it doesn’t matter to me!” 

“You didn’t apply to the college?” 

“I did, my name wasn’t called.” 

“What about the artisan school? You could do good there,” she said. He could, he looked to be an athlete of some esteem. He didn’t need to be an Artificer. She’d tell him with words though, and not actions. Words were more comforting to Beings. 

Before she could get in another word, a mob descended on the stall. A flash flood of people and voices and confusing sounds overwhelmed Naida, she reeled away from the window. Quickly she hopped on her sandals and descended the stairs. She bundled her hair over her shoulder and twisted the doorknob, triggering the runic portal that jettisoned her what thousands of miles it was to Buena Suerte. (Her father had built the special windows at Naida’s request, so you could casually look out of the window of your destination written in runic on the door.) The Workshop had many doors. It was nauseating. Out she emerged from the portal door to the inundation of the panicked villagers. She pleaded for someone to start from the beginning. Her heart hammered while a bruised woman in a torn blouse and no shoes wept that it attacked her in the market square. The woman was crying but men were already bustling Naida away. God, every heartbeat was a hammering WHOOM, WHOOM. The village buildings were square and squat, she was able to see the rising dust above the square. People fled from around a corner of the buildings leading in, she silently wanted to break away and flee as well. 

Turning the corner Naida witnessed the follow-through of a long swinging arm. A man was caught and went flying like a doll into the partition of a stall. He landed with a thud, though he wasn’t so injured that he couldn’t crawl away. Daughter of Daedalus, Naida was absolutely confused to see one of them stampeding like a bull. She’d never really had much of a history working with Dominion. She’d forgotten how tall they were. And it was a long way from home. It stood almost unmoving, the silhouette shivered with every section of rock clinging and scraping against itself. This upright mass of ancient boulders in a crude Being-like shape was the cause of the havoc. A strange low tone emitted from the creature. Splintered boards and torn partitions littered the ground, and the sweet stench of smashed fruit clung to the air. 

“Tame the beast!” Someone shouted from the throng behind her. 

“Please Artificer, pacify the creature!” 

“Use the magic! Destroy it!” 

Naida didn’t know what they expected her to do. Suertans had probably never seen or even known such a creature existed. 

The Dominion shifted on its two trunk-like legs, what she’d thought was her heart thudding was the sheer force of its footsteps. 

WHOOM. WHOOM. 

The villagers cowered behind her now. Naida’s thoughts raced, she thought of retreating and getting Dad, he’d know what to do. When last had a Dominion disobeyed the commands of Daedalus? How was a Calphic construct capable of mischief? 

A high-pitched groan of aggression came from inside the Dominion, it approached Naida and the crowd she protected. She raised her hands, preparing to use whatever rune she could conjure in so short a moment. 

PTING! 

A thrown object nailed the Dominion on the headstone. Immediately the golem shifted its body in a clunky movement. A tin cup clattered to the floor, thrown from the hand of someone on the other side of the square. Who could it be but the young man from moments earlier, Andres! He looked frozen in place from the moment the cup left his hand, Like he couldn’t believe what he just did. Naida saw his mouth move, something unintelligible, and the Dominion pounced! Villagers screamed and scattered in directions away from the Dominion, those huddled inside their stalls ran while Naida shoved forward hoping to rescue the brave fool. Andres had braced himself and caught the stampeding beast, wrapping his arms around the neck of the headstone and was pinned to the wall behind him. Buena’s market buildings were a fluorescent pink stucco, which cracked upon such an impact. A cry of struggle came from both the young man and Dominion, the beast then scraped along the wall but Andres clung to him. To the floor they wrestled, the Dominion bucked and stomped like an animal but to Naida’s surprise the youth held on. For a cacophonous moment, Naida watched the Suertan and the rampaging creature battle. The Dominion jerked its body and Andres was thrown to the floor. No quicker was the Dominion on top of him, its headstone cracking open to show jagged stalagmite and stalactite teeth. The boy howled in fear and surprise and kicked the jaw away before catching a ravenous chomp within his hands. There they struggled, beast clamping its jaws shut and man preventing them from closing around him.

Andres would later tell Naida that he’d thought she was abandoning him when she fled from the square. In the chaos he cried, Come back! Help me with this thing! For what seemed like an eternity the boy fended off the otherworldly foe. He didn’t know what he was getting into letting that cup fly. He hadn’t expected to catch the Dominion’s charge and not be smushed immediately. Every second was an improvisation, avoiding its deadly blows, steering it around using its own weight, felt like a goddamn rodeo! How Andy remained alive was astonishing. Another throw to the dusty ground and the air was knocked out of him. The Suertan youth wheezed and attempted to get to his feet. The Dominion knew victory was close, it pinned Andres again to the west wall. His energy sapped, he couldn’t keep this up much longer. His arms barred the mass of rock as the boulder headstone cracked open again, the stalagmites and -tites promising an ugly death. But beyond the deadly teeth, something beckoned to him. In the back of the Dominion’s throat– did Dominion have throats?– something glowed and rolled over itself with some type of energy. It felt wrong to look at it. Morbid curiosity winning, Andres levered the jaws an inch wider with one arm and reached in with the other. He wanted to touch it. 

Andres became one with the Dominion’s Source.

I was submerged.

In Daedalus’s dream.

A drop of Calphic rain.

I thought it was an ocean.

Because it felt like it was. 

Everything became a violent violet. Like hydrangeas sprouted from everywhere and everything. His head was thrown back as the information flowed into him. It was so much, too much. The petals that had grown out of the Dominion started materializing into something. A written scrawl, words, sentences, phrases that came and went. Orbiting around the Dominion. Were these the Dominion’s thoughts? Andres peered with eyes full of sight into the intentions of his foe. He could feel the anger, the intentions of violence…

Something stabbed the Dominion, and Andres still connected to the Source felt the stabbing pain too. The creature jerked upright and he was ripped out of the connection. The maw disappeared in a Calphic magic trick. The Dominion discarded Andres who hit the ground like a bag of rice. Naida, out of breath, had returned with the item she now held, and was silently thanking the kin-gods that the youth was still alive. 

Naida braced the engram rod with both hands. Eyes darted between the Dominion and the boy who lay in the dirt. In a low voice, she ran through the runes she would need to queue into the engram. Looked at Andres. The Dominion was reacting to her subtle commands, was it pushing her out? She kept having to start over. Looked at Andres, he was scaring her. 

“Violet,” he moaned. He looked confused, eyes fixed on something above her head. 

The Dominion thrashed like a caged animal, yanking the engram rod free of Naida’s hands. The force threw her to the ground. Andres didn’t see how the tip end of the item had seemingly melted into the Dominion’s solid stone body. The brute shifted to the woman. The long stick jutting out of its side swung over the still-prone Andres. 

 Up he got. His eyes burned looking at the Dominion. It was drenched in it. The runes that dictated every thought the monster acted on pooled and circulated all over its body. He heard its thoughts in a language he didn’t understand.

“                    .”

What? 

“                    .”

 I…can’t let that happen.

Lucid and tenacious, Andres reached out and grabbed hold of the rod and yanked with everything he had. A shrill cry emitted from inside the Dominion and it rotated unnaturally on its axis. Andy held on while the bottom of his shoes skidded over gravel, he planted himself again and pulled. Cracks formed around the jut and Andres tore the head of the rod away from the Dominion. Instantly the Source released a deluge of rock segments including its right arm from the Dominion’s frame onto the ground. Naida recovered and drew away on the back of her heels. With eyes full of sight she looked on Andres with astonishment. He was covered in enchant, the stuff of magic that was in short supply. From peaked corners, the people of Buena Suerte looked on as the weakened foe lumbered around. The tip of the impromptu weapon, the engram, was full to bursting with runic information. Naida hadn’t completed her incantation but that didn’t matter now, the device was now a spearhead. Fury painting his face, Andres surged; drawing back the weapon and swung flush into the rock-foe’s side. The sensation was like forcing two opposing magnets together, the language on the Dominion scattered away when the rod came close until finally the two met and the runic waves crashed against each other. Burst. Andres swung through the Dominion like a batter hitting a home run, and the diaphragm of the monster ceased to exist, more of its rock hull flying away from the enchanted skeleton. 

A segmented tone of death, and the Dominion felt over in a clumsy heap. 

Naida approached Andres, stood shoulder to shoulder with him as he lingered on the dead thing in front of him. She turned to view him, his frightened look from moments earlier had returned. Violet, he had said. 

“Are you injured?” She asked. She was half a hand taller than him, and she examined his face intently. 

“I don’t know,” he said. The rod was missing from his hands, lost in the exchange of power. He turned to her, dismay painting his face. 

“Naida, were you able to hear what it said?” Andres said, and the woman’s blood ran cold. 

“What do you mean, who spoke to you, lun?” She said, ending her sentence in a phrase that indicated speaking plainly. The youth chewed his cheek. 

“I…I don’t know,” he said again, the words walking away from him. 

The crowds came. Folks spilling out of cramped hiding places came to clap the young man on the back and lift him up with words. Naida watched Andres’s mouth move, things said to people that were lost amidst the clamor. He was jostled and congratulated for his heroics. The brave hero had slayed the beast, he was smiling but his eyes indicated a grimace hidden just beyond. The crowds’ attention then turned to Naida. She was a stone in the river of people. Twisted fists and dagger-eyed glares, they moved away from her and the broken beast that was supposed to be her responsibility. 

“What is this device the kin-god has sent to kill us?” Someone cried. 

“Where is the Great Artificer? Does he not know his constructions have turned against people?” 

“He sends his daughter instead of showing himself!” 

The accusations hailed Naida. She felt the festering desire to flee. She knew nothing, couldn’t offer them anything! 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why this happened. I know my father would never endanger the people of Khatru, I’m sure of–” continued shouts trampled over her.

“She lies, a construction of Daedalus came here to hurt our people!”

“It was one of our own that had to destroy the beast!”

“I saw her escape when the fighting started, she intended for the creature to kill young Andres!” 

She had enough. 

“Please stop!” Naida bellowed. A rune placed in her throat made her voice a thunderclap. Forward she strode, the sea of people parted for her and she walked up to the young Andres. He was staring at the Dominion of Daedalus. He was blinking as though something was in his eye. 

“What did you mean when you said ‘violet’? When the Dominion released you?” She spoke low so that only he could hear. She motioned to the rubble. Andres internalized his foe’s name.

“After I touched the object in its throat, every became covered in the stuff. And the Dominion was talking in that weird language,” Andres said. Naida kept her face a stone. 

“Are you seeing the violet words right now?” She asked.

“Yes, they won’t go away,” he said. Naida breathed in, then out. She spoke loud enough for the Suertans to hear.

“I don’t know why that creature attacked your village,” the color of dawn appeared in her mind. Buena Suerte. “I will find answers,” she said.

Naida told the Beings she would return in a day with either her father or her father’s words. 

“Naida is good. Her word is good.” Spoke up the shopkeeper from across the lane and Naida was warmed by this. They were just scared. She had to help. She touched the woman’s hand in thanks, then motioned for Andres to come to her. 

“I will take you to the Workshop. Father will hear of what you did, how you stepped into the fray… however foolishly,” Naida said. Andres’s face lit up as if she hadn’t finished her sentence calling him a fool.

“You will?”

End of Indigo Morning

Thanks so much,

hope you’ve enjoyed this test chapter.

Daedalus + His Dominion