by
Marc H. Wyman & Chris Bogues
XXX. Passage
Opened
The
villager Voldert grumbled, “Finally you’re healed up, new man. You
took your time.”
Darawk
gave a start. He had intended to walk past the villager when Voldert had
cast him a vile glance – one that speared deep into the god’s heart.
“What do –“ he began, then remembered that he had been hurt by the
dragon god Lógrims’ fire when he came to the village to recuperate in
Caltraya’s house. Seven darktimes ago, not even a twelve-day had passed.
Such a brief time, yet so much had changed for him. Decirius. The image of
the chief god grown to fill his tower flashed into his mind, along with
memories of the torrents of pain that had near torn him apart.
“Time
is plenty for those who know to use it,” Alyssa interjected and held out
her hand to Voldert. “I am Lyassa.”
“So?”
the villager replied, staring at the hand uncertainly. The goddess’
smile rested on him, and he found it difficult to maintain his anger.
Alyssa
sighed, reached out her hand further and grasped Voldert’s. “There. A
means of greeting new people.”
“Ah,”
the villager muttered, returned the pressure. He slowly withdrew his hand
then, a frown settling on his face. “Why would you care for this habit?
Aside from you, there have not been new people for many a twelve-day. More
hands than there are in the village has the blue flame brightened to the
white blind at the end of the twelve-day, so why –“ Now it was his
turn to pause. “Are there more new people coming?” he asked quickly,
his voice grating harshly.
“If
it should so please the gods,” Alyssa smiled, slightly inclined her
head. “Or do you not like the thought?”
Voldert
lowered his head. He shuffled his feet. “If it pleases the gods, I am
but their creature.” His voice was cool, like a recitation.
“What?”
Darawk said kindly, despite the sharpness of his words. “Has the
teaching of the God of Knowledge fallen in misuse here, my friend? He
teaches us to embrace the new, the unknown; to love it as a source of
new-found thought. Is that not so?”
“It
is,” Voldert mumbled. Slowly he raised his eyes, a dim fire burning in
them. “Yet always has the village been as I know it. What new I have
found and embraced was outside. I have followed the instructions of
the God of Knowledge.” The fire burst forth, and Voldert took a sudden
step towards the god. “How dare you accuse me of mis-following His lead!
New man! What god made you? Was it Darawk? Or was it the trickster
Shenaumac? Tell me now!”
“Shenaumac!”
Darawk laughed. Voldert was but a foot away from him, the muscles of his
arm bunched to strike – and his face starting to change as he realized
that the god was not at all intimidated. Unseen by both Alyssa allowed
herself a bright smile at the ridiculous sight.
“Tell
me!” Voldert insisted, trying to maintain his anger.
Darawk
shook his head. “No, my friend, I shan’t. It is not a question of who
the creator is, His being a deity is enough. What matters,” he reached
out his hand to touch the villager’s shoulder, “is that we follow the
teachings in all our days. What matters is that we follow them in every
way that our minds can conceive. That is what the God of Knowledge
teaches. I said no more than that.”
“You
said that –“
“He
did not, Voldert,” Caltraya’s voice sounded coldly. She had come from
her house, accompanied by Olmawi in his new guise. Once she had noticed
the discussion, she had strode forward quickly and now stuck her hand on
Voldert’s chest. “But you are proving what you accuse the new man of!
You do not listen. Still you do not listen!” She pushed the
villager back, moved inbetween him and Darawk. “Did I not tell you to
pray to the God of Knowledge for forgiveness earlier? Did you not promise
to do so, and to seek his counsel?”
Her
words were full of honest anger – yet they did not have the desired
effect. The gods were first to understand, their faces freezing into masks
for moments. Then Voldert reacted. His hands shot up, clenched
Caltraya’s and squeezed. “Yes, I did,” he grunted. “But He did not
answer! There was no counsel for me to take! Why should I then pursue his
teachings when He does not even deign to speak to me? Tell me that,
Caltraya!”
“I
–“
Voldert
dropped her hand with a jerk. “Of course you can’t. There is no
answer!”
He
turned around, to stalk away – but found himself faced with the bright
smile of Alyssa. “Do you now purpose to leave the gods?”
“Leave
the gods?!” Voldert shouted, his anger meshed with fear. “Why would I
–“
“Why
would you not?” Alyssa fired back. “You’re presuming they’ve left
you alone simply because they do not speak to you. Why do you think so?”
Voldert started to answer, but Alyssa raised herself on the balls of her
feet – and perhaps her legs grew as well, so her eyes reached nearly the
level of the villagers’. “Because you do not comprehend what the God
of Knowledge has taught you, that’s the answer. He teaches you to use
your own mind, not listen always to counsel from the Eternal City. Think
for yourself. See for yourself.”
“That’s
no answer!” Voldert managed to shriek, strangely touched by the look in
Alyssa’s eyes. His face shivered, confronted by a woman more irate than
he had met before. Not to mention concepts that he hadn’t thought about
before.
Alyssa
shrank down to her previous height. None of the villagers – several of
which had by now gathered – noticed anything unusual. “No,” she
conceded in a low voice, “it is no answer. Not if you are looking for
something definite. All it is, it’s a path towards an answer. Is that
not right, brother of mine?”
An
eyebrow raised, Darawk tentatively shrugged. “Eloquently argued, Lyassa,
sister of mine. The God of Knowledge would bless you for your words.”
“He
would, wouldn’t he?” She smirked at him, then turned her glance to the
villagers, Voldert and those gathered around them. “Embrace what has
happened, my friends. Strive to find a meaning in it, and strive to find
new knowledge in the new situation.” She nodded to herself, held out her
hand and hooked it under Darawk’s right arm. “Now I’d like to go to
the well and have a drink, brother of mine.”
“Of
course,” he nodded, and they walked off. The villagers pealed aside
before them, formed a corridor of mystified faces.
“Why
did you not show them?” Caltraya whispered hurriedly, once she’d
caught up with the deities at the well. Alyssa was bent over the bucket,
drinking pointedly the cold water from the dipper. Darawk was rolling his
eyes, stretching out his waiting hand for the dipper at least as pointedly
as Alyssa drank. “And why the false names?” the villager woman
continued. “You’re not Lyassa, you’re –“
She
stopped when the goddess shot her a quick, angry glance – over so fast
that the woman wondered if Alyssa had ever raised her head from the
dipper.
“Are
you quite sated, sister of mine?” Darawk grumbled. “I know how
unaccustomed your mouth is to speaking, yet I assure you that half a
bucket is enough to moisten your throat again.”
The
goddess growled deep in her throat, raised the dipper above her head,
tipped it forward and let the water run over her chin into the bucket. As
expected, Darawk rolled his eyes again. “Quite enough,” she smiled,
then handed both bucket and dipper over to her brother.
“Lady…”
Caltraya said in a strained voice.
“Oh,
Callie,” the goddess turned towards her. “Don’t worry. It’s all
necessary.”
“Necessary?”
Olmawi interjected. The old god was walking sedately over to them, keeping
an eye at the villagers following him at a greater distance. “They
cannot hear us, Lyassa. And I am also curious what your plan is. I
assume that Dar- your brother is informed?”
Alyssa
smiled at Darawk. The god was calmly drinking, a grin wrinkling the edges
of his lips. “He’d better. It was his idea.” She sobered up
momentarily, checked the villagers’ distance herself then leaned forward
and whispered, “We don’t intend to remain outcasts, Olmawi. Decirius
and his buddies of malignance are about to unleash a whirlwind of troubles
among the gods. Somebody has to put an end to their plans. Somebody
stronger than we are now.” She raised her eyebrows, then stressedly
repeated, “Than we are now.”
“I…
see,” Olmawi answered, his brow furrowed in deep thought.
“I
don’t,” Caltraya pouted. “Please, Lady, I wish to help! How can I
–“
“Be
quiet,” Alyssa hissed. A look of pain flashed over the villager
woman’s face – and melted into an expectant mien when she saw Voldert
stride towards them, well ahead of the other villagers.
The
man’s steps were uncertain, not quite faltering. “I…” he started,
stopped, looked back, looked at Caltraya and was confused by her
eagerness. “Er, I wanted to –“
“Yes?”
Alyssa and Darawk said in unison.
A
shiver ran through the villager. With more resolve he said, “I want to
learn for myself. As you said, it’s… It’s what the gods want. They
gave us minds to think, right?”
“I
think so,” Alyssa smiled broadly.
Voldert
did his best to match the smile, failing at the sheer brightness of the
goddess. “Is there something else for me to see? Something aside from…
home?”
Caltraya
gasped. The eagerness flushed from her face, and she stared at the deities
around her. “Leaving the village? But –“ She frowned at herself. Of
course it had been Callie herself who had often left the village. She had
tried to coax others into doing the same thing, occasionally succeeding
with Voldert. And yet there was something in his stance, in the way he
asked his question that sounded final to her. As if he wanted to leave for
more than a few days. Maybe even for good.
Or
would that be leaving for bad?
“Is
there?” Voldert said forcefully. “I do not mean the other abodes of
people. Something… something new. Something where none of us have ever
been.”
“Perhaps,”
Darawk shrugged and peered into the well. It was built of stone, simple
bricks whose corners were smoothed by wear and tear of many a twelve-day.
“Perhaps,” he said again and stepped aside, his hand resting on the
rim of the well. Alyssa took a step aside as well, as did Olmawi, leaving
Voldert and Caltraya in a funnel pointing at the well.
The
villagers looked at each other. “I don’t –“ Caltraya caught
herself, whirled about and hurried to the well. Voldert followed quickly.
Together they peered over the rim, fully expecting to see the distant
shimmer of water as always. But they also expected to see something else.
Although
that something else surely was not a rolling meadow, flowers blossoming on
a small hillock barely in sight, as was the edge of a river, where the
bucket of wellwater was swimming. The surface was no further than twenty
feet away, almost enough that one could leap down to it. “This… this
is amazing,” Caltraya whispered, thunderstruck by the sight through the
well.
“It’s
a sign of the gods,” Voldert answered, at first in a low voice, as
stunned as she was. Then he raised himself up, leaned panting against the
bricks of the well. Loudly he shouted, “The gods have given us a sign!
There is something new to discover! A new world! A new life for us!”
None
of the villagers reacted, and Voldert waved urgently. “Come, see for
yourselves! See what the gods are showing us!” He kept waving until the
first of the villagers stepped closer, to cast their own glances into the
suddenly mysterious well.
“They
aren’t going yet,” Caltraya said cautiously. They were standing in an
alley well off from the well and the throng of villagers gathered around
it. “You – you want them… us to go through the well, don’t you?”
Alyssa
nodded. “Yes, Callie, we do. Voldert isn’t wrong, you know. It is
a sign of the gods. That is the mortal world, and there you can find a new
life.”
“But,”
Caltraya wiped her eyes, tears starting to form there, “I don’t want
to leave my home. I’ve always been here, and it’s… My life’s been
good here.”
“Of
course,” Alyssa gently leaned forward and embraced the villager woman.
“Callie,” she whispered into her ear, “adventure awaits you. As well
as new experiences, and new pleasures.”
The
villager woman wept for a little while before disentangling herself, with
a question in her face.
“Yes,”
Alyssa said, “there are joys awaiting you that you cannot dream of yet.
We will be there to guide you toward them. Please, have faith in us.”
“How
–“ Caltraya sobbed, firmed her shoulders and said, “How could I do
anything else? I’ll… I’ll go to the others now, and I’ll convince
them to leave… home.” With that she whirled about and hastened to join
her fellow villagers. Her face was still caught in the throes of crying,
yet there was a distant tinge of the promised joys.
“Joys
to come?” Darawk asked soberly. “Might those include Voldert?”
Alyssa
nonchalantly brushed her hands over her hair. “Well, I am who I am,”
the Goddess of Love smiled.
“I
do not wish to spoil this moment,” Olmawi said and raised his hand,
“but you are playing a dangerous game. Decirius may note the
villagers’ absence at any moment, well before you have any chance to
gather enough of them to raise your own strength. So might any of the
other abodes.”
Darawk
nodded. “Yes, we are aware of that. It’s a risk we are willing to
take, for the sake of the entire world.” He held out his hand, which
Alyssa immediately grasped. “We would gladly be undergods of an abode,
in a happy world. Yet our world isn’t happy, so we have to choose
another lot. Olmawi, will you join our course or not? There is still time
for you. And should we win, do not worry: we will always know a place in
our abode for you. No matter if we should be undergods again.”
“A
risky game you are playing, my young friends,” the older god said
wistfully. “I haven’t played any games in a very long time. As I
indicated some days ago, your youthful exuberance is infectious, and I
very much like it. The past millenia were so boring and alone, I think
that annihilation is not a terrible fate if I can enjoy a few more moments
like these. Yes,” he straightened his back, and for a moment his eyes
glowed with an icy blue and enormous strength, “I will walk by your
side, and I will fight for your cause.”
“Then
we’re three now,” Alyssa smiled and reached out with her free hand.
After a moment, Darawk did the same. Olmawi stepped forward, took the
hands, completing the circle. “I wonder,” the goddess said, “which
way we are headed. Darawk’s happy world, or Olmawi’s oblivion?”
“Whichever,”
Olmawi said, “our path will be quite interesting.”
In
the Eternal City.
In
the highest tower, filled with murky darkness.
A
man-like figure, garbed in a black robe and hood.
Its
pasty-white face is turned up.
Its
dark eyes are closed.
Its
bloodless lips are smiling.
T
H E B E G I N N I N G
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