Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Tea Leaves ❯ Tea Leaves ( Chapter 1 )

Tea Leaves

The trees in the peaceful angel city of Sabynne blew with a soft restlessness that day, as if with the knowledge that something was in the air, but with the unwillingness to share that knowledge, should someone inquire into it. Perhaps it was in the way the leaves seemed almost to wish to escape from their branches, despite the certainty that they would eventually shrivel up and die should they accomplish the feat.

Sabynne is a capital city, of sorts, for angels, nestled in well-cared for forests that seemed to have a light about them even on the darkest of nights. As the rest of the world is mostly inhabited by (by angelic standards) chaotic, wild creatures like humans, dwarves, dragons and demons, angels like to keep to themselves in their own settlements and while visitors of other races are placidly welcomed into Sabynne, they are expected to immediately follow customs and not stand out too much.

Little Sabina, a rapidly growing angel girl that the adult angels always whispered had a heart too big for her own good, sped through the elegantly paved path to her tutor's house with grace that made it seem as if she'd already learned to fly, though she had not even approached the path of becoming a young woman. Her long feathered ears were oversized in comparison to her bright face and her blinding blonde hair trailed behind her as if trying to hold back the eager girl. Sabina was excited, and the angels that watched her recklessly tear through the streets had no doubt about that.

Angels, as a rule, did not care for the sudden, random or chaotic and preferred order and the expected. The streets of their city were laid out in perfect grid patterns of elegant houses and temples, and their inhabitants were habitually annoyed by the slightest disruption of their order. Something had prevented Sabina from absorbing this mentality and she was eagerly making her way to that day's lesson. On the day that Sabina “took wing,” or began to grow the wings from her back that all angels possessed, her private teacher, Pavi-en'dora, had promised to tell her a story “in place” of that day's lecture, and Sabina's mother had noticed that the tiniest bit of down was beginning to emerge from her back. It was very itchy and a little painful—enough of a hassle as it was, so Sabina believed down to the deepest, most intimate fiber of her soul that there would be no moral obligation attached to the story she'd been promised.

She'd already learned about all the gods, and about angels and demons, that angels need feelings of goodness to live and how demons needed bad feelings to survive. But Pavi was quick to stress that angels can feel hate, just like demons can fall in love. She'd learned dull things like about the royal family that ruled the kingdom, how its first ruler was some elf lady who was a famous sorceress, how the ancient feudal system collapsed because of traveling mages and warriors who taught peasants to defend themselves in exchange for room and board. None of these things seemed to apply to Sabina, at least not on a direct level.

She hopped up the steps leading to Pavi's front porch with careful calculation, as if playing a game. She could smell downberry tea brewing from inside the white stone house—as always the windows were wide open. Pavi liked to allow energies to flow, whatever that meant. Vines crept around the sides of the house, as if keeping an eye out for visitors. In the past year Sabina noticed they'd actually made it up to the thatched roof and were hanging down over the porch, and she imagined eventually there'd be a curtain of vines you had to pick through just to get inside.

Sabina ignored the typical method of entering a home, instead popping her head through the front window that stood over a small bookcase inside. “Pavi! I'm here for the story!” Sabina was not one to beat around bushes of any sort, preferring to get to the point. The tangy smell from the tea wrinkled her little nose—she could only stand it with a few spoonfuls of sugar, and Pavi hadn't added any yet.

Pavi's head appeared in the window. She was not an angel, but an elf. She claimed to be around four hundred years old, but her soft face and short, feathered ginger hair looked like that of a young woman. Pavi had also taught her that elves age quite gracefully. “Do you have wings already, Sabina?”

“Yeah, I do! You can see them if you want!” Now Sabina was excited for the approval of her mentor.

Pavi smiled. It didn't take an angel to sense Sabina's joyous excitement. “All right, I'll be out in a moment.”

Sabina paced around the porch, thumping heavily on the stained wood. She'd seen adults pace quite a lot. She figured it was a very adult thing to do, and decided long ago to practice whenever she could. She made sure to lower her head slightly and hold her chin delicately in her hand, a technique she was just now perfecting. Shortly, Pavi emerged in a white and yellow sun dress, carrying a tray with two dainty cups of downberry tea. She set the tray down on a little table that stood sternly with spindly iron legs that curled at the bottom between two wicker chairs. “Okay, let's see these wings.”

Pavi pushed up the back of Sabina's little blue blouse, and a cool afternoon breeze ruffled the tiny feathers. “You call these wings?” Pavi teased, her long pointed ears turning down in mock disappointment.

“They are too wings!” Sabina asserted, not finding it at all funny.

Pavi patted Sabina's head. “Oh, okay. They'll do. Take your seat.”

Sabina climbed into her usual chair. She'd barely sat down before she asked, “What's the story about?”

“I've forgotten the story. I'll just tell you all about dragon mating rituals instead.”

Sabina made a face like she'd opened a tiny package expecting candy but had discovered stale bread instead, and her own downy ears turned downward. “Eew! Tell me the real story! You didn't forget it!”

Pavi made a satisfied sound in her throat. “Okay, Sabina. But this story is very important. You have to remember it, well enough to pass it on to your children.”

Sabina pouted. This was too much. “I'm not going to have children!”

Pavi smacked her forehead. “Of course, I forgot. You told me that yesterday, didn't you? Anyway, this is a story about the creation of the world—at least, the one we know. You know who Sofia is, right Sabina?”

Sabina was offended that Pavi would even ask the question. “Yeah, she made the world!”

Pavi shook her head. “No, Sabina, she made it possible for the world to exist. She created the sphere of chaotic night that our world swims in, and a little lonely ball of dirt. Sofia decided the ball of dirt was not very pretty and certainly not very interesting, but wasn't sure what to do with it. So from the force of chaos that she used to make the cosmos, she extracted two beings: a demon and angel, representing the forces of evil and good, and dumped them into the sphere of night along with the ball of dirt, to see what would happen.”

Sabina frowned—she seemed to be doing more of that today than she'd anticipated. “Did that really happen?”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it does! If it didn't happen, why bother telling it to me?”

Pavi ignored her with a smile. “Well, there were the angel and the demon floating in the cold night…”

* * * * *

The angel and the demon beheld each other. Both looked vaguely familiar but distinctively strange compared to the other.

“You there!” the angel called into the night. “Who are you?”

“I'm Syllynel,” the demon said, opening his arms to the cosmos, his long black hair streaming behind him. “I am a demon; I embody all evil deeds, thoughts and intentions.”

“Really!” the angel answered. “I am Ririnda, an angel. I embody all that is good in the cosmos.”

The problem was, neither one understood what the other was; the angel wasn't sure exactly what evil was, and the demon was perplexed at goodness. While they were separate, their essences were only half what they could be.

“I,” the angel explained, “am a small act of charity; an embrace given a lonely child; the adoration shared between two lovers.”

The demon was impressed, so he offered his explanation of evil. “I am guilt that wracks the wicked; the hate that beats the drums of war; the despair of a ravaged maiden.”

The angel was fascinated at this new entity but thoroughly repulsed. It demanded that the two stay apart, and that perhaps that would be for the best. However, it was at that same time that they noticed the ball of earth floating out in the cold night of chaos, and both coveted it for their own. And both were convinced that there was only room for one of them.

The demon called forth his evil magic and the earth spewed forth molten rock, creating mountains that the angel would find sitting on it uncomfortable. The angel did not take this well, and used its holy magic to cover the earth in lush green grass that would tickle the demon if he sat down.

“Why do you do this?” the demon asked. “This land is a trifle to a radiant being such as you. Would it not be such a sacrifice to allow me to rule it?” The demon used his magic to carve massive trenches—canyons and valleys, into the land, to give him a cool, bare place to sit.

“Nay,” the angel replied. “I cannot allow this place to be ruled by evil alone, for it will be dark and full of despair!” The angel filled the trenches with water, creating roaring oceans, serene lakes and wandering rivers.

“Angel, what is the purpose of light without shadow to accompany it?” the demon asked. “The goodness of your world would be too radiant and pure for any being except yourself!” he pointed out, and surrounded the water with sand that would get between the toes of the angel and irritate him.

They continued working their magic on the land until our world was created.

* * * * *

Sabina sipped her tea. “I don't believe that,” she said, looking into the red liquid. “Lots of people have stories about how the world was made, like dragons think Sofia stole the world from off the tip of a giant dragon flying through space, and humans think Sofia took over for some other god who made these giant lizards and killed them with a big stone because they wouldn't worship him, and the orcs…”

Pavi coughed conspicuously.

“No one knows,” Sabina finished concisely.

“Well, Sofia does. And I haven't told you the most important part of the story yet! Won't you stay long enough to hear it?”

Sabina rolled the idea round in her head, as if she were terribly pressed for time. “I suppose I could,” she finally said.

“Well,” Pavi continued, finishing her tea, “The angel and the demon got tired after a while…”

* * * * *

“Angel,” the demon panted across mountains and oceans, “I am tired.”

“Perhaps,” the angel relented, “we could both rest here. Just long enough to regain our strength.”

So the angel and the demon both went down to the world they'd created and saw how beautiful it was.

“This place… is no longer a cold ball of dirt!” the demon gasped. “It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen!”

The angel agreed. “We created this wonderful place using both our good and evil magic. Perhaps Sofia means for there to be a place for both light and darkness in this world.”

From that point on in the cosmos, light and dark were inseparable: a man, wracked with guilt over selfishness, does a small act of charity; a survivor of a brutal war embraces and orphaned child; carnal brutality is lessened by the affection of a lover. Good and evil were in balance. To finish the job, Syllynel and Ririnda cast off the last of the pure good and evil to separate ends of the cosmos, forming the plane of pure good, Celesta, and the dimension of pure evil, Miasma.

* * * * *

“It's said that if good and evil become too unbalanced in the world, it will rise into Celesta or fall into Miasma and be destroyed.”

Sabina had heard of this balance stuff a few times. Adults loved to argue about the nature of good and evil. Some said that if the two were not in balance the world would cease to exist, and others swore vehemently that if evil was not eradicated, the same would inevitably happen. Sabina was never sure about it, herself. “So… they really are meant to be balanced?”

“Yes, Sabina.”

“So… evil seems like a bad thing. Because of it, people get hurt, right?”

“Yes… it's plain to see why people think evil and any evil creatures should be done away with. It is out of fear, and bitterness. They do not want to believe the idea that should they or a loved one fall victim to a force of evil, that it is just part of the natural order of things. But a fly does not feel it is an injustice that it may fall prey to a spider, and flies do not wage war against spiders. The fly knows that it is just how things are.”

“But we're not flies,” Sabina pointed out astutely. She was very sure that she was an angel and nothing had ever given her reason to believe otherwise.

“No, we're not…” Pavi agreed. “Evil inflicts itself on good, and good forces itself onto evil. We live in a world of give and take, in equal measure.”

“Is that the whole story?” Sabina asked.

“Yes, Sabina.”

Sabina had seen a demon once, she realized, when her family took her on a trip to the Lost Gardens. It was actually a very pretty creature, with soft tan skin, and eyes and fangs like those of a cat and short black hair, dark and fine as onyx. He'd been caught by a man in shining steel armor. Sabina had asked what the demon had done wrong, and was met with a puzzled face, followed by a smile of condescension that adults all seemed to have earned the ability to produce upon growing up, and her parents had apologized for their daughter. Sabina asked Pavi if it was okay for those kinds of things to happen, wincing because of how harshly she was usually dismissed when asking others the question, receiving the same treatment as when she asked a question she was too young to know the answer to.

“Mmmm…” Pavi purred into her tea. “Would another story satisfy your curiosity, Sabina?”

Sabina straightened in her chair, a curious frown set firm. “Like what?” She remembered the last time Pavi had tried to appease her curiosity with a story, and all the times before and she was almost invariably disappointed.

“Remember our demon and angel who helped create the world?”

Now this sounded promising! Pavi's story of the world coming into creation, no matter its amount of truth in it, was interesting and a return to it, however brief, was welcome. “The story goes on? You didn't tell me?”

“I'm telling you now,” Pavi spoke with sleepy serenity. “Sofia looked at what the demon and the angel had done—how they'd created something beautiful by combining their magic. She was very satisfied, and began creating all the people and creatures that live in the world today. And in honor of the demon and angel's deeds, she allowed them to give birth to races all their own, each charged with putting a little evil and good into the world, to keep everything nice and balanced.”

A stiff but warm breeze ruffled Sabina's hair and made impatient ripples in her newly-filled teacup. “This story isn't true either, is it?”

“Does it matter? Do all stories have to be true to be worth something?”

“… Go on.”

“The demon looked out over the world, and was worried. He saw the men, the dragons, the monsters. He said, `My existence will be difficult. People will persecute me for doing my work out of fear and anger.' Sofia thought this a wise observation. She enchanted demons to allow their children to grow up to defend themselves quickly, and allowed other creatures to join the race of demons.” Pavi turned to Sabina. “Because it would be horrible if half the balancing force in the world were to disappear.”

Was the demon she saw years ago once something else? “But what about the angels? Um… you know, us? Did Sofia give anything to us?” The truth of the story no longer mattered. After all, the tale had suddenly become relevant to her, and therefore infinitely more important.

With a knowing chuckle, Pavi set her teacup down. Its sharp, crisp clink against the glass became a sort of punctuation beginning her reply. “Well, just about everyone else decided that they didn't like demons very much, but angels were given respect as bringers of goodness and users of holy healing magic. In some places angels are even worshipped. In other places demons are made slaves.”

Sabina pouted, her tiny lips pursed in dissatisfaction. “But is it all right?” She looked down into her cup. A tiny bit of the red tea was cooling at the bottom, with bits of tealeaf floundering along the sides as if scrambling for a hold on the porcelain. “Can I have some more?”

Pavi took Sabina's cup in slender hands. “We can discuss that matter when your wings are fully formed.”

Tightening her hands into little fists, Sabina stood up on her chair, her waist just barely reaching to the arm rests. “You always say that!” she called after her as Pavi went back into the house. Draconic mating habits were starting to sound pretty good about now.

“Because you keep asking me!” Pavi's disembodied voice replied from inside, all the gravity gone from her tone.

Sabina waited; she didn't want to yell at Pavi from outside. She always got the feeling that Pavi was smirking at her from inside, and she really didn't want to give her the chance. Children, she knew firsthand, would present to you any derogatory facial expression in what adults liked to call the pure honesty of childhood. Adults did not care either way if anyone was present to receive their ill-natured looks and words.

Pavi smiled when she emerged with the last of the tea. It wasn't the condescending smile, but one that had a subtle flavor of sadness. “You don't need to be burdened with those kinds of thoughts right now, Sabina. You've got a long life ahead of you. Plenty of time to experience both the sorrows and joys of our world.”

Sabina nodded. There were times, she'd learned begrudgingly, that's it's best to just let an adult talk.

“You'll be here long after I'm gone, you know. And you'll have a lot to do.”

Pavi blew into one of Sabina's feathered ears, ruffling the pure white down. She always did that when she was trying to not be too serious. “I think you'll find the sorrows and joys of the world to be equally sweet, but only if you respect them both.”

Sabina paused. One more thing troubled her. “Pavi?”

“Yes, Sabina?”

“About dragons… don't their tails get in the way?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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