Here is the long-awaited chapter. Sorry this took so long. Chap 1-3 flowed so well that it was jarring to hit writer's block that hard.
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Mera was pissed!
That was the only way Ashur could describe the actions of the enraged blue Library caretaker. One moment she had been sad, but compassionate. The next, her body had been suffused with crimson as she scrabbled over his supine body in a mad effort to get to his dresser.
Shocked, the big soldier sat up on the edge of the bed with an extremely confused look on his face.
"Wha..?" he started.
Brandishing the foot-long wooden rod that Ashur had found near the base of the giant stone statues several days before, she turned to glare at him.
"Where did you get this? Where did it come from?" she screamed at him. The red in her skin and eyes pulsed as one great color with her rapidly beating heartbeat. She stalked toward him and he actually found himself shrinking back from the smaller woman that he had been cuddled up with just seconds ago.
"I think it fell off the statue," he stammered. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about but couldn't remember." He held up his hands, palms out to ward her off. "I wandered around there the night before that bad hangover. I meant to tell you about it the next morning, but I was so out of it, it slipped my mind. Why? What is it?"
"Take it," she snarled.
Reaching out hesitantly, he plucked it from her grip with two fingers. As soon as he touched it, the Words that were engraved along its surface blazed into a white light. Shrugging his shoulders and holding it back out to her, he decided to brave a question.
"I don't understand. What's the problem?"
She didn't answer him but snatched the stick back and looked as though she wanted to snap the two-inch wide thing with her bare hands. Twisting it back and forth in her grip, she cursed in a tongue he couldn't recognize. Her voice started low and muttering but soon ramped up to full bellows of rage. Finally, she stopped screaming and, breathing heavily, glared at him for several seconds. Not knowing what was fueling her anger, Ashur decided the best course of action was to remain as still as possible. Seething, the furious woman shook her clenched fists at the ceiling briefly before turning and stomping for the door.
He followed her out of the room but, upon seeing she was headed for the exit, turned and grabbed up the clothes they had discarded the night before. He raced after her and dove through the shrinking gap between the doorway and the floor of the already rising lift.
Not wanting to turn her ire on himself, he rose to his feet, held the pile of clothing, and stayed silent. It wouldn't have mattered, however, for she seemed to be ignoring him completely. Before the lift came to a full stop, she was striding away from him and in the general direction of the titanic sculptures. Even with his longer legs, he still didn't catch up to her until they had almost reached the hub where the gigantic stone people stood.
Ashur stopped at the edge of the bookcase that bordered the big plaza. Whatever it was about the statues that had upset the now scarlet woman, he didn't want to get caught in the blast zone; a thought which prompted him to get dressed quickly. Having the cloth armor between his skin and her rage suddenly seemed like a wise idea.
In the meantime, Mera had marched up to the male half of the statue. The outward looking face gave her no response as she raged at it.
"HOW DARE YOU! How dare you do this to me!" She beat on the base with both hands and stomped her feet. Still naked, the bounce of her breasts and buttocks might have been arousing but the effect was muted by the invectives pouring out of her mouth. "You fucking worthless pile of rock! You decrepit monument to stupidity! Why would you do this to me? Why?" Rearing back, she hurled the baton at the figure. It bounced off a stone shin and sailed away. Ashur heard it hit the ground somewhere on the opposite side of the base from him.
The throw seemed to burst Mera's anger and she dropped down to her knees, sobbing. No longer scared of her outburst, he started to hurry to her. He almost fell, however, when his foot came down on something round that tried to roll it out from under him. Looking down, he goggled to see that it was the rod that Mera had thrown. Briefly cursing it for tripping him, he snatched it up and closed the distance to the crying woman.
He tossed the rod onto the floor and knelt beside her. Wrapping her in his arms, he pressed her into his chest where she wept, occasionally beating her fists against him with no real force. Her sobs and incoherent moans waxed and waned and he was pushed back against the pedestal of the statue when she tried to worm her way into him. Shifting from kneeling to a sitting position, he could only wait as she curled into a fetal ball on his lap, her tears going on and on.
Eventually, her weeping subsided to be replaced by a quiet chant. He strained his ears only to hear her litany of "I'm safe, I'm safe, I'm safe". Utterly confused, he transferred some of his weight in an effort to keep his legs from going numb and resolved to wait until she was ready.
After almost an hour, she wound down and pulled minutely away from him, but did not leave the circle of his arms. When she looked up at him, he expected to see grief and pain, but instead, her eyes shone with joy.
Utterly confused now, he waited for an explanation. She laughed in delight and reached up with both hands to cup his face and kiss him.
"Mera," he muttered, "in the name of all that's holy, what is going on?"
She kissed him again, then turned in his arms, looking around. When her eyes fell on the dowel he had dropped, she picked it up and handed it to him. He looked at it, then her; still not comprehending. With a cry of elation, she stood up and pointed at the colossal stone man. He rose and looked up at it. Nothing seemed different about it and he looked back down to tell her so.
His question died stillborn because Mera was gently bouncing on her toes in happiness. In fact, much to his frustration, she seemed to be so caught up in the feeling that she was robbed of speech. Fortunately, the movement of various parts of her naked body muffled his irritation.
When she saw that he was still puzzled, she grabbed his hand and pulled him to the base of the staff held by the male half. Holding him by the wrist, she lifted the hand that contained the rod up to it.
Guessing that there was a connection, but not seeing what it might be, he started to get perturbed.
"Mera," he started to growl, "I need you to use words. Tell me what's going on."
She dropped his hand and threw her arms around his chest and started chanting again. Trying to make this one out, he started to pull away, but stopped when his ears caught the words of her mantra.