Dawn of Swords(The Breaking World)

CHAPTER


11


The creature loomed before the kingling, saliva dripping from its fangs. A thousand limbs stretched out of the darkness, slimy feelers shimmering in the unnatural dreamlight. Eyes burning red emerged from the black, casting a nightmarish glow on a hideous face in perpetual motion, always shifting, becoming people he knew and people he had never met.

Geris screeched and fled the other way, but he seemed to be running too slowly. His heart pounded so hard in his chest that he began to feel faint. And still the monster grew closer, so close he could feel its hot breath on his back, could smell the putrid stench of decay and sulfur rippling off its flesh.

Finally he reached a tunnel, and he dashed inside. It quickly shrank, and he dropped to his hands and knees to scurry along, handfuls of grime coming up in his palms each time he pulled himself forward. The deeper blackness of the void beyond the tunnel entrance seemed to close in around him, threatening to envelop him in nothingness, and once more Geris cried out. He scooped at the dirt faster, sliding his knees along the slick floor of the tunnel as he hauled himself through the dark.

And still the monster closed in.

The tunnel ended, but that didn’t stop Geris. He dug into the loam, shoving his body into the wall until he was sucked through. With still no escape in sight, panic overtook him. Mud and dirty water flowed into his mouth and down his throat. He screamed silently, suspended in the dirt, hovering in the empty space between life and un-life. The sickening swish of his pursuer’s thousand limbs became muted, far away. He felt his consciousness waning, and for a moment he thought the sensation would last forever.

Be still, child, a calm voice spoke into his mind. The spirit soars, the body sinks. You know the way.

Geris recognized that voice. It was Ahaesarus, his mentor, speaking to him from somewhere very far away. He closed his eyes, cleared his thoughts as his teacher had instructed him, and breathed deeply. This time nothing choked him, and the lingering presence of the nightmare creature withered away. He felt his body turn light as a feather, and a second later he was floating. A hundred unseen hands lifted him up and up until his fingers brushed an obstruction above him. Still breathing deliberately, he slid his fingers through the soft ground. They were greeted by a warm gust of air. He felt his body being pulled through the opening his fingers had created, squeezing from one reality and into another like a birth.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself squatting on the edge of two conjoined rivers in a place he had never been before. He was surrounded by rocky terrain and short, stunted trees. The rivers flowed together, their currents picking up at their joining point and rushing away like a herd of rampaging horses. The water shone blue in the pale moonlight. He gazed north, over the rushing water, and looked on a barren landscape whose cracked and lumpy ground appeared to be a topography of disease and ruin. A chill washed over him. The wind whistled past his ears, seeming to speak to him, and he whirled around.

Behind him was a solitary boulder that looked like the ones he had scaled with Martin and Ben when they were given a respite from their studies. The rock shimmered like topaz beneath the moonlight. There was a drawing carved into its surface, a shining star surrounded by a hundred points of light. Geris traced the edges of the etching, feeling the coolness and unnatural smoothness of the stone beneath his fingertips.

Suddenly the stone started to shatter without warning, and he leapt backward. All of Ahaesarus’s lessons abandoned him, and he cowered by the moss at the river’s edge, looking on in wide-eyed terror as the boulder changed shape. Arms burst from within it, legs lifting its bulk off the ground. A head smashed through the top, rising on a regal neck. Stone eyelids opened, revealing soft, glowing eyes.

Then Ashhur stood before him, a majestic being of granite. The star etching shone on his chest like a sigil. When the god ran his fingers through his beard, shards of rock rained down like dandruff. Geris scuttled back to avoid the falling debris, then rose on a single knee and bowed before his deity. Ashhur knelt down, extending one monstrous, rocky hand to him, a gesture of acceptance and love. Geris smiled and stared back at the stone god, feeling safe once more, secure in the presence of Ashhur’s everlasting grace.

I love you, child, the god said, though his stone lips did not move. The old demons cannot hurt you here.

Geris touched Ashhur’s fingers, which were just as cold and smooth as the boulder had been before the change. The stone god’s head tilted to the side, gazing at him with an emotionless countenance, and Geris felt the adoration that had infused his heart begin to waver. This was not the Ashhur he knew, a deity of love and forgiveness whose gaze always conveyed warmth. The expressionless face was a lie; the sturdy stone body a false idol. He withdrew his hand and retreated a step, his foot slipping on the moss-covered riverbank.

From behind the false god came a squishing sound, like worms in wet soil. Black feelers slid out of the darkness, wrapping themselves around the legs of the stone Ashhur. More feelers worked their way across the giant’s chest, then its neck, twining down both its arms with tightly flexed, serpentine movements. The stone Ashhur screamed, a noise like a fistful of pebbles ground together, before being forced to its knees.

Geris crouched, frozen in place, as the slithering appendages pulled and pulled, gradually cracking the stone god down the middle, splitting the star ensign in two. The god’s head lolled back, uttered another scream, and then for a maddening span of time, all went silent.

From the darkness emerged a face. It rose over the stone god’s shoulder, the most hideous thing Geris had ever seen, oily flesh covered with thick boils and with a hole for a nose. Then the face started shifting. First it became a hideous fanged beast with oversized tusks, then a single-eyed blob with snaking ropes of tissue for skin, then Celestia’s glowing visage, then Ashhur’s, and then Karak’s. The image of the eastern god lingered for a moment before it too shifted, the ears rising upward, the snout elongating, whiskers growing from around the nose. The stone Ashhur was pulled lower to the ground despite its protests, and when the change was complete, the dream demon leapt on the false god’s chest, a fully formed black lion of rippling muscle and sharp teeth. One of its claws raked against stone Ashhur’s breast, creating a smattering of rocks as it grooved the edge of the star ensign.


“The god has forgotten his place,” the shadow-lion said in a hissing voice. “The Lord of Justice has fallen in love with another. He cares not about you—only her.”

“That’s not true,” Geris whispered, his heart thrashing wildly in his chest.

“Is it not? Then why send his most trusted servant away? Why allow your friend’s death to go unavenged? He spends each evening wrapped in the embrace of the goddess. Look, her sign is upon him now, plain as the day is long.”

“That’s not Ashhur,” said Geris defiantly.

“No? Let us see.”

The shadow-lion sank its fangs into the side of Ashhur’s neck, yanking and pulling with all its might, loosening the stones and sending them tumbling down the god’s boulder of a chest. As the granite chipped away, Geris saw true flesh emerge, pink and smooth as the satin sheets on his bed in the Sanctuary. Geris began to scream as Ashhur’s true image emerged, his eyes wide with terror as the shadow-lion mauled him. The stone became a prison around him, leaving him vulnerable. Geris tried to run toward his god, desperate to somehow protect him, but more feelers shot out of the darkness, binding him in place. He struggled against them, his joints stretched to the breaking point.

Ashhur released a final cry of pain before the shadow-lion ripped out his throat. Blood-like stars trickled from its gaping maw, floating vertically through the air, a progressing stream of iridescence. The prison of stone crumbled, and the god’s body pitched over, falling face down in the moss. Geris stared at it, wide-eyed, while the shadow-lion sauntered slowly over the unmoving carcass.

“Faith is like a mountain,” the beast said. “The foundation is wide and strong, but should that foundation weaken, hollowed out from within, the mountain crumbles, and all who stand upon it will perish.”

The shadow-lion leapt at him, claws outstretched, the shimmering blood of Ashhur dripping upward from its snarling lips. Geris tried to move but couldn’t, couldn’t…until he awoke with a start, covered in sweat and panting, his head pounding as if struck by a twelve-pound hammer. He heard a series of wretched sobs leak from his own throat. His body shivered uncontrollably, still locked in the physical sensation of the nightmare. He closed his eyes and tried counting his breaths, another trick Ahaesarus had taught him, and eventually he felt his heart begin to slow. His fear, however, remained unabated. He didn’t want to open his eyes. The demon could be out there, the impersonator who had destroyed his Lord and creator in the recesses of his sleeping mind.

Very slowly he pried open one eye, then the other. He saw a lantern burning softly in the corner of the single-room hut that he and his family called home. His two brothers were asleep beside him, his four sisters in their bed a foot away. Baby Roman, not even a year old, snored quietly in his wicker basinet. Geris rose up on his elbow, taking care not to rouse his siblings, and gazed at his parents’ bed beneath the eastern window across from his. They too were sleeping, their bodies twined together. He watched their chests rise and fall, rise and fall. Then, tentatively, he leaned over the side of his straw-filled mattress, gazing from one end of the cabin to the other, seeking out any movement in the darkness. There was none. He lay back down and crossed his arms over his chest, hoping he could get some rest despite his shivering body. The words of the shadow-lion lingered in his mind as sleep finally took him.

He cares not about you—only her.





“Geris, sit down,” said Ahaesarus. “We have something to discuss.”

Geris bowed his head and stepped into his mentor’s large tent. The tent’s fabric walls were white and nearly sheer, and the top stood at least thirteen feet high. The Warden himself sat at a rectangular table in the center of the living area, where a simple carpet had been situated atop the grass. Ahaesarus’s minimal clothing was stacked atop a wide, flat stone, teetering like a collapsing tree. Geris stopped in front the pile and straightened it; delaying the inevitable with simple chores was a nervous tick he’d developed since joining the lordship.

“Kingling, stop fiddling with the laundry and come to me.”

“I’m sorry.”

He approached the desk and sat in the chair opposite his mentor. Ahaesarus cut an intimidating figure even while seated, his height accentuated by his broad chest and shoulders. The Warden had a head of long hair that was as gold as the sunrise, smooth tresses that hung straight over his shoulders and came to rest just above his midsection. His eyes were a brilliant green that seemed to shine even come nightfall. With daylight pouring in through the gossamer walls of the tent, they were almost haunting in their brightness.

“What is it, sir?” Geris asked, though he knew perfectly well. His studies had faltered in the week following his nightmare. Concentration had become difficult. In open competition with Ben, he often lost contests he had always won in the past. Just this afternoon he had been handily beaten during the open forum. Many of Safeway’s residents had taken a break from their gardening and prayers to pepper the two kinglings with questions about how they would lead the people if they were chosen as king. Geris stammered while Ben answered each question smoothly with confidence. It seemed as though Martin’s death had steeled the youth, somehow augmenting his self-assurance.

Ahaesarus leaned back. His chair creaked, the wood bending beneath his substantial weight. He stared at Geris, tapping the fingers of one hand on his chin while he fiddled with the small, curious pouch he wore around his neck with the other. It was a pose to which Geris had grown quite accustomed over the past year or so. The Master Warden was waiting for an answer—an answer Geris was reluctant to give.

“Very well then,” Ahaesarus said finally, sighing. “You don’t wish to speak. Perhaps slopping out the latrine outside the Sanctuary will make you more talkative.”

The Warden reached behind him, bringing forth a shovel and a large wooden bucket.

Geris shook his head. He wanted to be anywhere but here, perhaps out skipping stones in the river with his friends like in the old days. And he didn’t like Ahaesarus’s tone either. Just hearing it made him miss Jacob all the more. The First Man never spoke to him like that.

Jacob is not your mentor, he thought. Ahaesarus is strict because it’s his duty.

“It’s not that,” he said, unsure if he should continue but doing so anyway. “I’m just frightened is all.”

“Frightened? Of what? Of Ben? Is that why you’ve allowed that oaf to best you in public competition? He is nothing to be fearful of. He holds not a candle to you. You have always been the best of the kinglings. The presentation of the lordship before the council in Mordeina is but a few weeks away, and you must be at your best once we arrive.”

“But what if I don’t want this?” muttered Geris with the irritated whininess of the young. “I was chosen; I didn’t choose.”

Ahaesarus eyed him with uncertainty. “Is that why you are frightened? Because you’re not sure if you wish to be king?”

“Um, well, no.” Geris struggled with his words, trying to find the right ones. “I’d be honored to be king. It’s just that…I don’t know…I don’t understand…why? Why do we need a king when Ashhur is here, showing us the way? Why do we need a king when our god walks among us? Does he tire of us? Does he wish to pass the duty of leadership along to someone else and disappear, as I heard his brother did? Does he not love us anymore?”


The Warden’s gaze softened. He looked almost compassionate, which was an expression Geris had never seen before on his staunch, all-business mentor. Ahaesarus leaned forward, his arms dangling over the front of the desk, and addressed Geris directly.

“I see what this is about, but you are wrong. Ashhur loves all of his children. He always has and always will. In truth, he was opposed to the idea of a ruling class. He sees all his children as equal parts of a united whole. The lordship was my idea, mine and my fellow Wardens’. As the surrogate guardians of your people, we felt it necessary for you to learn to govern yourselves as they have in the east. We told Ashhur that his children deserve the chance to prove that the lessons he has taught them have taken hold in their hearts and minds, by administering their own laws, their own justice. It was not easy to convince him, but he eventually acquiesced.” He spread his arms out wide. “Obviously.”

Thoughts rushed through Geris’s brain. “But why would he listen? Doesn’t he know best?”

“Ah,” said Ahaesarus, wagging his finger before him. “That is a great truth, but there are layers to every truth that are not so transparent. Even the gods do not know all there is to know. Ashhur is a great and benign deity. He understands his limitations as well as his strengths. He recognizes that there are worthy ideas other than his own. Besides, if you are never given a chance to rule yourselves, then the lessons you learn will go untested, unproven. It is Ashhur’s love and trust of his children that has convinced him to agree with our plan.”

“Does he really?” asked Geris under his breath.

“Does he really what?”

The message of the dream burned in the forefront of his thoughts. “Does he really love us? It’s been three weeks since Martin died; yet after the memorial I have seen him only twice. I’ve heard it said he spends all his time in his solarium, alone with the goddess.”

His cheeks burned red.

“What if he loves her more than us?”

Ahaesarus’s mouth snapped shut. He glanced about the tent, his jaw tensed, creases lining the faultless skin around his nose. Ultimately, he slapped the table with his palm, creating a loud thwack that made Geris jump, and rose from his chair.

“Follow me,” he said, the cold authority once more restored to his tone.

The pair exited the tent, which was located on the fringe of Safeway, in full view of the Sanctuary. The Warden led him between plots where cabbage, potatoes, squash, and alfalfa grew, heading toward the towering structure. Ahaesarus didn’t speak, and Geris could hear his rigid breathing. His mentor was either angry or in doubt, and he was afraid to guess the consequences of either mood.

The ground floor of the Sanctuary consisted of a huge round chamber with polished wood floors, ringed with various potted plants and other gifts the people had presented to their loving deity. When Geris passed beneath the giant archway and entered within, he was surprised to see that Ben and Judarius were already there, standing in the open space to the right of the altar. Judarius was ranting on about some great offense to the honor of their deity, his black hair whipping about his head. Hearing the sound of the newcomers’ footsteps, they both stopped what they were doing and turned around. Ben reacted first, offering Geris a cheerful wave and a goofy smile, looking every bit as young as his fifteen years. Judarius only scowled. The Warden had not acted the same toward him since they’d returned from Haven with Martin’s body in tow. He had railed against Jacob for his irresponsibility in bringing the boys to Haven, and since Ashhur’s most trusted left just days later, it seemed as though he was now passing that anger on to Geris, which wasn’t fair. Ben had been Jacob’s student. It should have been he that drew the Warden’s ire, not Geris. He hated it, but Ahaesarus told him to pay no mind to it, for it would pass in time.

They marched past the duo and down a wide corridor that was virtually hidden by a pair of colossal potted ferns. The immensity of the Sanctuary never ceased to humble Geris. He gazed at the walls they walked past, adorned with a giant, sprawling mural depicting the early days of humanity in the west; Ashhur sat cross-legged in the grass, while children played all around him under the watchful eyes of the kind-hearted Wardens. The beauty of the mural brought tears to Geris’s eyes. Finally, the nightmare that had poisoned him began to lose its grip on his soul.

They trod up the wide staircase at the rear of the passage, climbing forty-two steps until they reached the door to Ashhur’s solarium. Geris’s heart climbed into his throat. He had never entered the solarium before—his time had always been spent in the Sanctuary’s main hall or the many classrooms that populated the other side of the structure. He suddenly felt intimidated, in awe of what he might see.

Ahaesarus rapped lightly on the door. His eyes looked pensive as they stared at the ten-foot-tall entrance. He waited a few moments, until rustling could be heard from the other side. Ahaesarus nodded in response to some directive Geris couldn’t hear, and he pushed open the door.

The solarium was huge yet sparsely furnished, making the place seem virtually empty. The walls were a deeply stained mahogany, decorated with only two placards, set on opposite sides of the vast room, upon which the words LOVE and FORGIVE were printed. There was a lush red carpet underfoot, and its fibers tickled the soles of Geris’s bare feet. The only furniture in the room was a single four-poster bed, the largest he had ever seen, its spires rising nearly twenty feet into the air, reaching for the hole cut into the Sanctuary’s domed roof.

There were two enormous figures sitting on that bed. Ashhur was on the left, wearing a wrinkled tunic and sandals, his blond locks curiously unkempt. The god stroked his beard and stared at the twosome, a strangely vacant expression in his golden eyes. Beside him was a woman of unmatched beauty whom Geris didn’t recognize. She wore a simple but alluring brown dress; her dark hair hung down to her hips; and her eyes were like distant black voids that bore into his soul. It took him a moment to notice that the woman was built on Ashhur’s scale, and his jaw fell open when he realized who she must be. Though he had never seen her in anything other than her starlit form, she could be only one person, one being.

Celestia.

Almost at once, both Geris and Ahaesarus dropped to their knees.

“Pardon our interruption, Your Grace,” Ahaesarus said. “I meant no disrespect”

“What is the meaning of this?” asked Ashhur. Geris had to fight the urge to cover his ears.

“The kingling has a question for you, Your Grace. I felt he should ask you in person.”

“Not here,” replied the god, his voice dropping in pitch as if he were sighing. “Not now. Have the boy wait for me in the yard. I shall be there forthwith.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” said Ahaesarus with reverence, and he guided Geris back out of the solarium, down the staircase, and out of the Sanctuary. Geris was so anxious that he didn’t even register the presence of Judarius or Ben this time. His nerves were so electrified it felt as if the tiny hairs covering his body were thousands of needles pricking his flesh.

Ahaesarus had him sit in the courtyard outside the short wall surrounding the Sanctuary.

“He will be with you shortly,” the Warden said. “I cannot stand by your side, as your inquiries must be between you and your god in solitude.”


Geris nodded, although he didn’t like the uncertain tone lingering beneath each word his mentor uttered. It took his every effort to not run off and hide after the Warden took his leave and returned home.

He knew the moment Celestia left the Sanctuary, for the afternoon sky brightened as if invisible clouds had ceased to cover the shining sun. Ashhur appeared almost immediately afterward, ducking beneath the Sanctuary entrance and stepping over the surrounding wall. The deity appeared to be in a much more welcoming mood, and for that Geris breathed a rickety sigh of relief.

“I apologize, young Felhorn, for the way I spoke earlier,” Ashhur said. “You caught me unprepared.”

Ashhur sat and bade Geris to do the same. Geris gazed up; the deity towered over him like a tree, even though he was sitting.

“How could you not be prepared? You’re a god…you created us. Don’t you know what’s going to happen before it does?”

Ashhur smiled a tender, kind smile. “If only that were the truth, my son. There was a time when it was, in an age and place I cannot explain to you. But I am neither omniscient nor infallible. Just like the universe, I am constantly changing, constantly learning, sometimes from mistakes I have made.”

“Oh.”

“Ahaesarus mentioned you had a question, obviously one of significant importance. Do you wish to share that question with me?”

The way Ashhur spoke, the kindness permeating his voice, resonated through Geris’s body, creating a state of calm and casting aside all his doubts. He told Ashhur everything—about the feelers in the dark, the shifting demon, the shadow-lion, the stone Ashhur bearing the sign of Celestia on its chest. He spoke of how he felt, how real the nightmare had seemed, and of the words the demon had spoken, the accusations of love lost and loyalty to another.

Ashhur listened patiently, his radiant eyes gazing at the clouds that gathered over the purple outline of the mountains in the west. When the tale was finished, they both sat in silence. The outside world seemed distant, as if Ashhur had wrapped him in a protective bubble that nothing but the love of the deity could penetrate. The only sounds he could hear were the beating of his own heart and the intake of his breath.

“Dreams can be portentous,” Ashhur said after a time. “They are not to be ignored, but considered, for in dreams we can receive warnings of the future or messages from the past. In worlds far from here, dreams have saved lives, stopped wars, and reunited long-lost loves. For when our minds are free from the earthly ties that bind us, we can sometimes see into the distance.”

Geris felt Ashhur’s finger slide over the back of his palm, and the warmth of his insides heightened.

“And what of my dream?” he asked. “Were the words of the shadow-lion…um…portentous?”

“You worry so,” laughed Ashhur. “No, my son, they are not portentous. My love for you is as great now as it has ever been. And my love for the goddess is not new. I have loved her from the moment our essences drifted past each other in the milky ether of infinity. I owe her much. She is wise, wiser than I am at times, and I benefit from her counsel. But she could never take your place. You are my children, and my responsibility lies now, and always, with you. Please do not fear my abandonment. It is not in my heart to ever leave you.”

“Thank you,” said Geris, his gratitude overwhelming him to the point of tears. “I’m sorry I doubted you. I love you so much…more than anything…more than my parents…more than becoming a king…more than my own life. The thought of losing you…I never want to feel that again.”

“Hush now,” the deity said, pulling the child in close. “There is no shame in fear, and there is no indignity in doubt. Beware your dreams, Geris, for while they can bring wisdom, they can also bring lies and despair. They can be the spreaders of falsehoods, the builders of a life of apprehension. So be still, my son, and hear my words. No harm shall befall you, and I promise, I will never leave your side, whether you become a great king or a simple farmer. You are perfect in my eyes, Geris Felhorn, and always shall be.”

Geris allowed the god to embrace him and fell fully into a trance of comfort. So contented was he that he never saw or questioned the touch of concern that darkened Ashhur’s features when the god turned his gaze toward the rolling meadows and the lands across the river to the east.