Where the
Shadows Waited
Author's Note
I recommend viewing this website using desktop screen settings (on mobile, there is typically a setting to request desktop site) if only because the formatting of the text is slightly harder to navigate on a mobile device.
Where the Shadows Waited was inspired by a reading of the poem "Dark Night" by St John of the Cross. A dark night is that time in a spiritual journey in which it seems all but impossible to see the way forward. Through no amount of effort is it possible to move oneself onward and the traveler is forced to decide over and over again, is it worth it to continue.
A dark night also refers to the idea that God is unknowable and that to seek the presence of God is like finding the way through a pitch black room that is unfamiliar. I may know there is a way out of the room but I do not know what or who is in the room with me. Turning my heart towards that inner peace that passes beyond understanding is then the most logical course of action no matter how difficult that may be.
A dark night may be brief or it may last years. My own 'dark night' has lasted the better part of fifteen years. A brief respite recently ended. St Teresa of Calcutta's dark night lasted approximately all of her adult life. The experience of the dark night of the soul is not uncommon. I suspect it is most uncommon to have never experienced a dark night.
Where the Shadows Waited contains influences from the works of various other historical persons. At the end I intend to make an effort to provide notes and links to their full works. Where relevant, I will include explanations for why the references were included.
Through story we make meaning of the world around us and our place in that world. Where the Shadows Waited and the subsequent two books in the trilogy are the stories of how I have made sense of the world around me and the place my faith holds in influencing that view of the world.
The reader will likely find that my stories contain much imagery and allusions to the Abrahamic faiths. These undertones are present because that is the faith tradition in which I was raised and whose tenets I know best.
As controversial as some may find it though, I believe there are many paths to finding peace within ourselves and tranquility within all of creation. Generally speaking, I find the best path is the one that takes you forward.
I am not a religious scholar nor a seminarian so I do not claim expertise on the subject matter. I am merely a father, attempting to share with his children what I have found to be important in life. May you enjoy my stories as much as I have enjoyed writing them.
Dedication
To Katie and Kenna, may you always remember you are beloved.
Introduction
Welcome, my dear Friend!
Is it true what I've been told? That you want to hear a story?
Well, I have a story to share with you. But, let me first warn you. This story I’m going to tell you ends but it has not yet ended. There is more to the story than I know and some of the story has not yet happened. This is a story of how the world came to be. This is a story of life, and all the sadness, pain, peace and joy life holds within it.
You may feel sad at times as I tell you this story. You may feel angry at times as I tell you this story. You may feel afraid at times as a I tell you this story. Not because of my story (though, perhaps at certain moments) but because of what may be going on in your world as you hear my story.
Yes, my dear Friend, I am familiar with your world. Your world is full of the night that seeks to destroy the day. Sadly, there is much hurting and pain in your world.
But, please remember this – if you take nothing else from the story I about to tell you, remember this – the night does not win. One day the dawn will be come and all will be well for you, for me and for all who are, who were and who will be.
Are you ready, my dear Friend? I hope so! Allow me to walk beside you as I tell you about the sisters, Ruha the older and Hala the younger, and how they saved their world. Let my words become a safe space and a respite for you.
Welcome to the world of Soteria!
Prologue
“What are you going to do? How are you going to raise the Dark Night?
Send us! Send us! We can fight it. Or you can destroy it, with one word you can destroy it all.
Let us begin again and get it right this time!”
Hundreds of thousands of voices spoke at once, questioning, begging, all wanting the same result – a world that was good and true. A world not like the one that was.
Though they were loath to admit it, theirs was a world that had gone wrong long before the rise of the Dark Creation, that evil from whence none knew where it had come but had for a thousand years filled their world completely.
There was a long pause as the voices finally finished their pleas and went silent. They waited, eager with bated breath to hear the answer they hoped for.
One voice spoke in reply. The voice spoke kindly but like one who has authority.
“I’ve chosen the two sisters. Through them, rescue will come, and the world will flourish.”
A great protest arose, a collective gasp as the truth set in. One voice rang out above all the others, a voice laced with disgust and seeping with frustration.
“But, what can they do?! They are mere children, and girls at that!”
The one laughed heartedly at their doubts.
“But, what can they do? Just watch.”
1. in the archives
“There once was nothing. No darkness, no light. An eternal void which was only present in the mind of themselves. There was no good, there was no evil. There was no morality, there was no being. There was no there.
There once was a world. It was dark, it was violent, it was nothing. There was only the water and a single, endless wave that circled the world and never broke. Underneath the water, there was nothing. Darkness, only a deeper and more complete darkness extending to the depths of the water.
There once was a land. It contained life and gave life. It protected from the destruction of the water. They lived on the land. The land gave of itself freely to them.
They rebelled against the land, they tried to destroy the land and themselves. To save the land, they were expelled to the water, the place of struggle and death. They swore, they begged, they gnashed their teeth, but they would not change their way. They moved on, seeking a new land to try to subdue and re-make in their image.
But the land longed for them. The land wanted them back. The land had created itself for them, to provide for and take care of them. A piece of the land broke off. It went searching for them. Searching until it found them and brought them back. Searching until it was destroyed by the water. Drowning just like so many of them had.
Piece after piece of the land broke off. Piece after piece of the land drowned. Until there was only one piece left, one piece searching, searching, always looking for the remnant of them.
The land, the last piece of the land found the remnant.
The land rejoiced, the land welcomed them back. But they didn’t welcome the land. They remembered the expulsion. They held their anger. They drowned the land.
The endless unbreaking wave returned.”
- from the Way of the Path
Ruha sighed.
She looked over at her younger sister Hala who was climbing up yet another bookshelf to search the stacks of dusty documents resting on top. They still hadn’t found it.
What is 'it', you ask, my dear Friend? Well 'it' was the original binding of the Way of the Path, the binding whose pages were cut from the tree itself and whose words held the magic of creation and the power to restore the light that had been taken from it by the Dark Night. But alas, we’ll get there I promise. Let us return to Ruha and Hala for now.
Ruha was fourteen. She was tall for an Abodan girl. Her body was strong like a ballerina’s and skinny like a hungry child’s because she was both. She was graceful and quiet but with a quick wit. She kept her light brown hair neatly cropped to her shoulders. Her skin had a pale, purple glow to it. A glow that became more intense when her emotions got the best of her. But, of course, that was common for all Abodan children until they grew older and were better able to manage their sometimes-strong emotions.
Hala was two years younger than Ruha. She was of average height for her age. Like her sister, she had the same strong and hungry appearance to her body. Where her sister’s hair was neatly kept, Hala’s hair was wild and reached to the small of her back. It was light brown and full of curls (or knots as they often became due to her not having the time or desire to brush them out regularly.) Hala often spoke out of turn but she was not often wrong in what she said. Her skin had a pale, blue glow to it.
Ruha and Hala had been searching through the Old Records for three years now. It was a massive area and they’d only covered a small portion so far. They snuck in night after night. For you see, they weren’t actually allowed in the Archives.
No, my dear Friend, that was a right only given to adults and then only the Occasusan High Priests. Worse, Ruha and Hala were not members of the House of the Occasus which currently controlled the Archives. They were not even members of the House of the Avatoyia which fought every night to take control the Archives.
Ruha and Hala were Abodans, the Shepherds of the Light, the Devout Ones. Their ways were peaceful and good. They had no quarrel with anyone. But, for the last thousand years, ever since the Dark Night had fallen and destroyed Soteria, the Abodans had been enslaved by the Occasusans and the Avatoyians.
If the sisters were caught, they could be beaten, imprisoned or worse, cast down into the water of the endless unbroken wave.
But, Ruha and Hala thought the risk was worth it because, to them, nothing was more important than finding the manuscript. The words of the original manuscript were the words and promises of Elo. Copies had been passed down for generations but copies did not hold the same power as the original, or so it was believed. There was little evidence to the contrary at least.
Their people believed the manuscript held the key to their freedom, the right to the wrongness of their world. It was the repairer of creation, their most treasured possession and it was lost. Over the years, many Abodans had attempted to breach the massive steel doors that made up the only entrance into the Archives in a vain effort to wrest power from the Houses but as of yet, none had even been remotely successful.
Those poor Abodans hopes were easily dashed. Each time, a short trial was quickly commenced by the Justice Board. Given a choice to find mercy in repentance or justice in death, their bodies were soon after dropped to a grave miles beneath the surface of the ocean that circled Soteria.
Most in the Houses of the Occasus and the Avatoyia (and even some Abodans) doubted a bunch of old words actually contained any power at all, so they had stopped searching hundreds of years ago. They believed the only power the manuscript held was the power of perception. But perception of power is important so an excessively overdone production continued to be made of guarding the only entrance into the Archives and patrolling the perimeter.
The Occasusans and the Avatoyians had been fighting over the manuscript’s ownership for a thousand years even though no one actually knew where it lay. The general belief was that it was likely in the Archives somewhere, thus whoever controlled the Archives was considered to be the House in ‘power’.
As the tale went, the chest in which the manuscript rested was the last item moved onto The Akedia before the ship was launched into orbit from the dying, watery planet that still remained in that state beneath them. The chest had been brought on the ship by the Abodans’ Council of Elders. They had managed to hide it right under the eyes of the Ordinary Men guarding them. The group of twelve Ancient Elders refused to tell the Lord of the Occasusans and the Father of the Avatoyians where they hid the chest.
Then, in a moment of incredible shortsightedness which has come to define most actions of the ruling Houses of the Occasus and the Avatoyia, the Ancient Elders were charged with sedition and sentenced to death. They were taken down to a few hundred feet above the planet’s surface and dropped, the first to be killed by the force of the Eternal Wave that had resumed its ancient rule around the planet.
The Houses hoped this punishment would serve as a warning to the rest of the Abodans that they were not to step out of line. The warning was effective but the twelve were the only ones who knew the location of the manuscript. The secret of its location was lost with them save for one clue that had been yelled in unison as they fell: Check the Archives.
It was a good clue, if not slightly too brief and vague.
Ruha and Hala believed the chest and the manuscript resting in it was somewhere deep in the Old Records section of the Archives. This area had been searched before, of course. But the girls were strong (some would say stubborn) in their belief that the manuscript was here somewhere. Even amongst the Abodans, they were considered devout and not often in a complimentary way.
In generations past, there were waiting lists of Abodans wanting to be searchers. Hundreds volunteered to be taught the secret way of accessing the Archives, knowing full well the risks of being caught. But, after generation and generation of fruitless searching, there was talk even amongst the leaders of the Abodans that perhaps it was time to move on and either take up against the Houses in non-peaceful ways or join in with them permanently.
Ruha and Hala were the last of the searchers. To them, every unsuccessful night was one step closer to the end of their people's devotion to the ancient path of beauty and justice they attempted to follow.
2. they are here
A loud, blaring claxon broke the silence that had descended on the room as the sisters searched deep into the night. Ruha and Hala shared a look of more annoyance than alarm. It was another incoming attack from the House of the Avatoyians. Or maybe it was the Occasusans?
It was hard to keep up some nights. And to the sisters, the attacks mattered little as victory only brought a change in the rulers of their oppression, never the freedom for which they all desired and hoped.
“We need to leave now.” Ruha, always the responsible and wise one, said to Hala even though, relatively speaking, they were safe where they were. The Houses fired their missiles at each over the top the Archives, but the Houses wouldn’t dare to directly attack the Archives and risk inadvertently destroying it.
In fact, the Houses, after hundreds of years of attacking each other, had at some point each designated several areas of their territories as ‘attack-able’. These areas were mostly abandoned, or at least abandoned by the elites of the Houses, so little of importance was lost in the nightly scheduled bombings. As those in charge fondly called it, it was a gentleman's war. Or as those not in charge loathingly called it, hell.
Still, safely in the Archives or not, missiles sometimes missed their targets, so it was always better to be deep under the surface of the ship where even the biggest bombs only sounded like distant thunder.
“Wait, I want to see the night.” Hala, always the fierce and brave one, said to Ruha.
She climbed up to the nearest skylight, where she could see the first explosions lighting up the starless night sky, as they temporarily casted shadows on the watery planet far beneath their ship.
Silent explosions in the sky, like fireworks she mused, thinking of a word she had read in one of the ancient texts they came across one time during their search of the Archives.
Hala looked out at the almost completely dark night sky, the only light to be seen across the seemingly unending expanse of space in front of her was somehow generated from deep below the surface of the ocean covering the planet below. A single, small pillar of light traveled slightly ahead of the never-ending wave as if it was being chased by the wave’s eternal effort to extinguish it.
The pillar of light was strong enough to reach to The Akedia. It was like a spotlight, hitting whichever side of the ship was currently facing Soteria, where it illuminated the rust and pock marks and other more needed repairs that the inhabitants of the ship preferred to pretend were not there.
As the light struck The Akedia, it was reflected out in a weak, quickly dying path of light towards an area of the sky called the Void.
The Void was the darkest part of the dark sky. It was an enormous, majestic, swirling nothingness whose very presence threatened at any moment to destroy all of the universe in which it resided. Any light, matter or other substance crossing its path quickly disappeared as if eaten by a ravenous monster.
The Void was completely devoid of life or warmth, or so it was believed. No one really knew as the only known visitors to the Void were the automated burial ships which carried the dead there on a one-way trip. It was little wonder that the Abodans often described the Void as a cosmic graveyard of the gods.
“Hala, now!” Ruha whispered as loudly as she dared, hoping to not set off the motion sensors again like they had several months ago.
She shuddered at the thought of the High Priest’s Ordinary Men finding them. The Ordinary Men did not give you the benefit of trial. As it said on the signs all over the Abodan quarters “Decisions are made on the spot, decisions cannot be appealed. Decisions are permanent.”
Hala merely stuck her tongue out in response, but she moved quickly and quietly from her perch. She took one last look back and almost fell over in surprise.
A large silhouette had filled the window. Something she had never seen before. It was a completely dark shadow, a presence much like the Void in that it seemingly absorbed the light of the explosions around it, all while briefly showing glimmers of translucent red and black skin.
As Hala looked, the shadow opened its eyes to stare at her. It had bright orange eyes that were like orbs of blazing fire. The eyes stared directly at Hala for several moments before one eye gave a quick wink.
Hala gasped out loud. Too loud. The painfully piercing motion sensors joined the noise of the eminent attack claxon. Hala froze. Normally never afraid of danger, always sure-footed, she was caught off guard and didn’t know what to do.
Ruha grabbed her hand and pulled Hala roughly through the portal opening that led to an abandoned and broken service elevator a hundred feet away. Walking quickly but softly, their footsteps did not even disturb the dirty floor under their feet. Like ghosts, they appeared to float above the ground. As they reached the broken and forgotten elevator, they could hear the first grueling screams of the Ordinary Men.
They quickly moved the elevator floor panels aside and climbed down. Then, even more carefully, so carefully even that the patterns of dust above remained intact, they placed the floor panels back over their heads. They begin their descent down the cables of the old broken elevator. Repelling quickly and confidently, they descended hundreds of feet in mere minutes. They paused only to ensure they weren’t being followed. The silence left them to their own private thoughts.
Ruha was pondering where they should search next. She had been so sure they would find it that night. She had sensed they were close, but she was by no means the first searcher who sensed they were close to finding the ancient text that held the promises of Elo. Hala was deep in thought as well wondering what she had seen.
“What was that? Was it really there? How can a shadow have eyes? And, how could anyone survive outside in the cold, lifeless space?”
Moments after each other, they landed softly on the bottom of the elevator shaft. Two miles below where they had started. They knew the Ordinary Men were still searching above them, but they had never descended this low. They were safe here. Ruha and Hala began the slow, long walk through the jumbled mix of pipes, access shafts and other mechanical processes that made up the land of the Abodans now.
You see, The Akedia was a massive ship, my dear Friend. It was the size of a moon. The ship was separated into two halves by the Archives, an immense structure that stretched like a wall running north to south around the entire middle of the ship.
The Archives was over a mile wide and half a mile tall. The Archives housed millions upon millions of artifacts, writings, and more. The Archives held the collective history of the people who were divided into the Houses of the Occasus and the Avatoyia and the Abodans.
In the Archives could also be found supplies for when the Eternal Wave circling the planet below them stopped and allowed the ship’s inhabitants to settle the land again.
On either side of the Archives, throughout the surface of the ship there could be found thousands of domes protruding out into space. These domes were made up of a thick, glass-like substance that protected the areas underneath from the deadly nothingness of space outside them. Some of these domes stretched across miles of the ship’s surface while others were much smaller, only the size of an acre or two.
In these half-bubbles were the settlements in which the members of the Houses of the Occasus and the Avatoyia lived. The House of the Occasus inhabited the half of the ship west of the Archives while the House of the Avatoyia inhabited the half of the ship east of the Archives. The largest settlements tended to fall on the west while the east had smaller, more varied, settlements.
At the core of the ship, deep, deep below the surface lived the Abodans (who were sometimes called mystics.) They were only allowed one settlement for all of them. With a population just under a quarter of a million, the settlement was cramped. And it was often dirty and loud and it always smelled slightly of the motorized processes that had kept the ship running for years on end.
Hours later the sisters finally reached their home. Dropping into their bed, which was a small mattress laying on the floor that they had scavenged when they were younger, they said good night to the picture of their parents on the mantel, knowing that someday when the Eternal Dawn rose, they would be reunited again.
The sisters slept peacefully that night, resting in childlike confidence that someday their search would end in success.
Miles and miles above Ruha and Hala, two men sleeping in chambers miles and miles apart woke at the same time with terrified screams. The Lord of the Occasusans and the Father of the Avatoyians. Both were haunted by the same image. A dark shadow stalked their dreams, a dark shadow whose form they were unable to make out. Upon waking, they could only remember the piercing fire of its gaze. And what it said.
“They are coming. And, I with them.”
3. while they rested
Now, my dear Friend, while Ruha and Hala sleep peacefully and the Lord of the Occasusans and the Father of the Avatoyians quiver in their beds, let me tell you a little about this world you have stumbled in on.
Who are the Abodans? Who are the Occasusans and the Avatoyians? Who is coming? The latter question I’ll answer in due time but for now the first two questions will do.
Who are the Abodans?
Well, the Abodans are really no different from the Occasusans or the Avatoyians. It's just that the current Abodans have had the misfortune of being born at the wrong place and time. By no fault of their own they have been classified as lesser and are treated as an 0ther. There are no bootstraps to pull up here, the Abodans can do little to change their fate.
An Abodan is easily identified by the one distinct feature shared by all Abodans. That is, the uniqueness of every single Abodan in that no two Abodans share the same skin tone. Some are shades of blue, some are shades of red, some are shades of green and so on and so forth. Curiously, if an Abodan leaves her roots and joins one of the Houses, she loses the colorful shading of her skin. No one really knows how or why this happens though much uniformed debate has been had over the occurrences.
Who then are the Occasusans and the Avatoyians? (Or the Occas and Avats as they are sometimes called.)
Well, a long, long time ago, thousands of years before anyone in this story was around, the Abodans, the Occasusans and the Avatoyians were all one people. No one remembers what they were called then, but now they are called the Ancient Ones.
The Ancient Ones lived in peace with each other for generations. But, as people are prone to do, they had a disagreement. And what started out as a small disagreement, a small conflict between three individuals, quickly grew into something larger, like a brush fire in a forest that hasn't felt rain in months.
‘So and so’ didn’t like how ‘what’s his name’ spoke to ‘you know who’. ‘So and so’ thought he was right as did ‘what’s his name’ and ‘you know who’. Rather than try to get to the bottom of it, they held to their grudges until eventually their conflict grew to include not only the local parties where it started but all of the Ancient Ones.
Sides were taken, trenches were dug and a great schism soon took place. It's a sad tale but a tale for another day, perhaps.
Those who prided themselves on being strong and powerful splintered into what first became the House of the Occasus and sometime later also the House of the Avatoyia. In contrast, those who simply tried to keep the Ancient Ways of seeking peace and cultivating joy in their lives became Abodan.
The Occassusans and the Avatoyians both were sure that their way of life was most correct, and they were both hell bent on ensuring everyone else followed their way of life as well. While the skins tones of the Abodans stretched the spectrum, Occas were only black and white and Avats were various shades of grey.
The Occas claimed to be the originals. It was a claim that lacked merit, but it is claim that was not often challenged. Using great leaps of logic that were still admired, they traced their lineage all the way down from Elo’s appointment of the First One, a man who was above reproach though his actions were certainly not.
The Occas lived strict, solemn lives with little room for gaiety. Their laws and traditions were set and rarely changed. In fact, over a millennium, those laws and traditions had only been changed for the most privileged few among them. These were for kings and other royal types, of course. You know, persons for whom changing the rules was necessary for them to retain their power and to keep the riffraff out.
The Occassuans were, on average, physically taller than the Avats and the Abodans. They were a people of broad shoulders who assumed much responsibility even when it was not their place to assume it.
Throughout their history, the Occas had been widely considered by themselves to be the hardest working people of all. They took to heart the misinterpreted maxim that only through work would anyone find freedom. It was a maxim they quoted often to their Abodan servants. Unfortunately for the Abodans, the Occasusans never clarified how much work it would take to find freedom.
The Occas had actually done much good in the world, but long ago they lost any of the joy that had brought balance to their devotion to work. Now, they were a cruel people who were content to allow others do the work from which they greatly profited.
Embittered by the lack of delight to be found in their lives, they meddled in the lives of others. They insisted that if everyone would follow the old ways of the Occasusans then all would be set right in the world. Of course, 'everyone' rarely included themselves as your typical Occasusan home was just as obsessed with following the latest trends as anyone else. Rules for thee and not for me as their Abodan slaves were often fond of saying.
The Avats splintered so long ago from the Occassuans that no one truly remembered what the reason was. The current consensus was that it had to do with a broken door but before that the general theory was that the split had something to do with a disagreement about bread.
The Avatoyians believed that even if the Occas were the originals, that long ago they had lost the blessing of Elo and with it, the right to rule. Instead they said, the blessing of Elo had been passed to the Avats who were now the true light of the world. The Avats were less rigid, less organized than the Occassuans but no less formidable. They were made up of several different sects who had unified under one banner. They welcomed all as long as all agreed with all the Avatoyian leaders said.
The Avatoyians tended to be smaller than the Occas, with rounder faces and stronger bodies which allowed them to be a physical match for the Occassuans albeit with different strengths.
Hala often joked that the Avats appearance reminded her of the dwarves she had read about in one of the ancient books she had flipped through once while searching the Archives. On the other hand, she was unsure if the Occas were more elfin or ogre-ish in their behavior and appearance. Ruha was of the opinion that a person can be both.
During a millennium of fighting between the Occasusans and the Avatoyians, the Abodans were mostly ignored and left to their traditions. But then they weren’t and the Occas and Avats united to destroy the way of life of the Abodans while enslaving those who refused to join one of the Houses.
Why did the Houses suddenly decide on this course of action?
Well, that my dear Friend, is yet another story for yet another time. But suffice to say, by nature of their peaceful customs, the Abodans stood little chance and have been under the kyriarchal rule of the Houses ever since.
So then, who is coming?
Of course, let me explain!
Oh wait, it seems one of the sisters is stirring and thus we must return to the story at hand. But we’ll get to your question eventually I promise.
4. in the morning
Hala, as always, was the first to wake up. As night turned to day outside the ship, there was no change in the darkness that filled the sky like a black-out curtain that had been pulled across the universe. But inside the ship, the bright and glaring artificial lights switched on automatically to denote the arrival of a new day.
Dressed still in her old, slightly worn hand-me-down sleeping dress, Hala began the morning just like she began every morning, by slipping quietly into the next room and eating her morning portion of chocolate.
She savored the taste. The rumor was chocolate would soon be gone. She wasn’t sure if it was true as she had heard the rumor for her entire life but nonetheless she ate it like it was her last, offering silent words of gratitude to Elo for another day with chocolate.
After eating her breakfast, Hala moved on to the next part of her morning routine. As she sat quietly in the dingy little living room of their small apartment quarters, she listened to a brief reading from The Way of the Path while meditating silently on its meaning. The only other noise came from the soft hum of the oscillating fan that pushed reprocessed air through the room.
She listened with the volume low, of course. Copies of The Way of the Path had been banned for several generations now and one could not be too careful about prying eyes and eavesdropping ears. The reward for reporting was too great, the consequence for not reporting too severe. They had all reported. Well, except Hala and her sister Ruha had never reported. But they understood why others had and they had resolved not to hold it against anyone. Though, it still hurt to remember their parents had been reported.
Hala’s silent meditation was broken by the sweet like honey singing voice of her sister Ruha. Hala smiled. She always loved this time of the day before it was time to leave for work. It was so peaceful, a moment of grace like what she imagined the Ancient Ones had experienced often when there was still peace between them and the Land.
Ruha sang the morning song of awakening. Her mother had sung it to her every morning just as her mother had before her and on and on. It was a tradition but also a path, a connection to an ancient world that had long since passed and those ancestors who had once lived there in that world. A world that had been good and pure before it all went wrong.
“My precious child, you are loved.
My precious child, you are blessed.
May you always be loved, may you always be blessed.
Wake now for morning has come, the dark night has gone.
Come play in the blessed morning of the everlasting light,
delight in the blessings of the dawn, my precious child.”
Hala joined with Ruha in the last refrain. Their voices joined together to form a gentle melody whose power they did not yet know.
For you see my dear Friend, in the world of Soteria, there is great power in being connected with the subtle rhythm of creation that flows within all. Long ago, before the Ancient Ones splintered into the three peoples they are now, the presence of this power was commonplace.
Being in tune with the rhythm of creation was how the Ancient Ones were able to create such an advanced society what with its space ships and technologically futuristic cities. In other worlds, this power is sometimes called magic or sorcery but in Soteria, it was simply a sign of faith.
Though, I must caution you my dear Friend, that great faith does not equate to great power, at least not in the way that most worlds seek to define power. No, what the Ancient Ones understood and has now been mostly forgotten, was that desire for kinship with Elo is the point, anything else is a byproduct that must be carefully kept in check lest it become the primary point of seeking.
Not surprisingly, as is common when a world has moved on, the Occas ,the Avats, and even the Abodans slowly lost the rhythm of creation that flowed within them and the power of creation that it gave them access to.
The rhythm was still there though as it always was and always will be. Occasionally, an Abodan has even been able to tap into the rhythm but never for more than a few moments at a time and even then, anything they are able to do with that power is like a parlor tricked compared to what the Ancient Ones used to be able to do. But, alas, you've caught me reminiscing again, my dear Friend, back to our story!
A banging on the door interrupted the sisters' morning song. This was unusual as they did not normally have visitors so early.
Hala ran to the door, briefly checking the peephole before throwing it open. “What are you doing, Dexx?” She said, half smiling, half glaring. “You’re going to wake up Uncle Gael. You know how cranky he is in the early morning as it is!”
As if on cue, Gael’s groggy but high-pitched voice could be heard from the other bedroom of the two-bedroom apartment they had all shared since Ruha and Hala’s parents were taken away. Gael wasn’t really their Uncle, but he had been a dear friend of the girls’ parents. Uncle seemed like a logical way to address a man who was not their parent but acted as one.
Their friend Dexx stood at the door, his dark hair was disheveled and dirty and he was clothed in the bland gray uniform that marked him as an Abodan. Dexx was skinny and lanky and he stood a foot taller than the Ruha even though they were near the same age. His skin was a light turquoise. But at the moment, Dexx's skin was several shades darker than usual due to the intensity of emotion he was currently experiencing.
Out of breath, he tried to explain his presence at their doorway so early in the morning.
“Something…happened…last night. The Avats…attacked the Occasusans!”
Hala not alarmed at all responded “So, what? The House of the Avatoyia has been attacking the House of the Occasus every night for as long as either of us can remember.”
“No, no, no” Dexx replied, shaking his head violently. “It’s different this time. Something different must have happened. The Lord of the Occasus, the Father of the Avatoyia and their priests are all down here this morning with the Ordinary Men. They’ve ordered everyone to the Winnowing Floor.”
Ruha walked to the front door and stood to the side of Hala. She was dressed similar to Dexx, in the bland gray genderless jumpsuit they all hated so much but were required to wear every day to work. The only exceptions were those days that were designated to be for morale boosting activities. On those days, they were required to wear their formal uniforms which consisted of stiff collared shirts and freshly starched pants.
"But it's been years since we were all called to the Winnowing Floor on such short notice." Her voice grew slightly louder and concerned as she remembered the alarms they had set off last night in the Archives.
Dexx shrugged his shoulders as he started to move on to the next apartment. He was mostly unconcerned with why they were being called to the floor. He just enjoyed being the messenger. He was almost fully out of their doorway before stopped abruptly as if he had one last bit of information to pass on. He looked at his watch carefully, an antique piece with an oversized face that used to belong to his older brother.
"Oh and we're expected to be there and lined up in 17 minutes and 28 seconds sharp."
Hala laughed at Dexx's exactness while Ruha thanked Dexx for letting them know. She shut the door and shared a nervous look with Hala before going to roust Uncle Gael so that they would not be late to whatever the Occasusans and Avatoyias were up to now.
5. the winnowing floor
Ruha and Hala quickly explained to Gael the message Dexx had given them. Then, they finished getting ready for the day and left to go to the Winnowing Floor. They had wanted to wait for their Uncle Gael as he moved slowly these days but he insisted they go ahead due to in his words, he was not worried about "whatever silly ideas the Lord and Father have got between them now." Even in the privacy of their quarters, Ruha shushed him out of habit while Hala stifled a giggle.
"Do you think this has to do with that shadow I saw last night?" Hala spoke quietly to her sister as their hurried footsteps echoed off the metal walls of the walkway that led from the Abodan living quarters to the rest of the ship.
"Maybe it was some sort of new security apparatus?" Hala continued, always a wonderer.
Ruha replied as loudly as she dared as the walkway was quickly filling with other Abodans also heading to the Winnowing Floor.
"There's no reason to speculate. If we were seen, it would have been the Ordinary Men at our door this morning, not Dexx."
Ruha's response seemed outwardly confident enough to satisfy Hala's inquiries. Or at least, Hala respected that Ruha would prefer not to speculate. They both grew silent as they passed out of the walkway into the the atrium that was outside the Winnowing Floor.
At any rate, there was no point in continuing the conversation as this particular area of the Abodan settlement lay directly above the Akkedia's engines. The engines themselves were relatively quiet but they generated a tremendous amount of heat which would make the whole settlement unlivable if not for the giant fans situated all over the atrium. The giant fans had blades the size of an average Abodan that pushed the hot air up and out of the area. The fans made the temperature throughout the settlement mostly bearable if one didn't mind being lightly covered in a sheen of sweat at almost all times. Between the noise of the fans and the air rushing around though, any conversation short of shouting was impossible.
To the left of the sisters as they entered the atrium, there stood a massive bank of elevators that led up, down and all around in a variety of directions. On a normal day, groups of Abodans would be clocking in for the day shift and lining up quietly for their turn to be whisked off to their turn serving the Occas or Avats in whatever area they had been assigned.
To the right of the sisters, there were a variety of shops and other small buildings. The shops were where the Abodans could receive their daily food rations and other wares as necessary. Those lucky enough to receive additional credits from their Occa or Avat overlords could spend those at the various kiosks located throughout the atrium like a poorly organized bazaar.
The atrium was wide but not quite wide enough to accommodate all the Abodans coming through at once. Angry shouts to move or hurry up peppered the already loud and slightly chaotic space.
Ruha and Hala shuffled slowly amidst the crush of Abodans making their way through the cramped space before they finally entered the enormous sanctuary-like space called the Winnowing Floor. The temperate immediately dropped from suffocating to merely sweltering.
The domed ceiling of the Winnowing Floor stood several hundred feet above them. Over a thousand rows of concrete benches formed concentric circles around a stage that rose up fifty feet in the air in the middle of the room. Massive video screens were set up all around the arena-like room in order that those furthest away from the stage could clearly see what was happening.
The Winnowing Floor was large enough to hold the entire Abodan population at once, but only just. Like so much else in their lives, the Winnowing Floor met only the barest standards of functionality and practically no standards of comfort.
The Occasusan Lord and the Avatoyian Father, their High Priests and other advisors of various degrees of self-importance stood impatiently on the platform, each using his own hand-held fan in a vain attempt to cool himself.
The sisters eventually found a spot on the left side of the room, near a side door through which Uncle Gael would be able to enter once he finally arrived. The Abodans all stood silently as the last of them filed into the room under the cold, watchful eyes of the Ordinary Men. It was a vast difference from the chaotic scene outside, but in the Winnowing Floor, even the youngest Abodans knew better than to make a noise unprompted.
Hala rolled her eyes as the music began, the loud abrasive chords were in stark contrast to the gentle melodies Ruha sang every morning. It was the call to service from the House of the Occasusans but here service only meant worship of the Lord of the Occasus, which was led by his High Priests.
Ruha elbowed Hala sharply, to tell her to straighten up. This morning of all mornings was not one they wanted to draw the gaze of the Ordinary Men. They, along with the rest of the Abodans joined in the call, a harsh song that lifted their praises to the ruler standing on the raised stage in front of them.
Here we stand, may we revere as we bow down;
allow us to kneel before the Lord of the Occasus, he who is our greatest Provider!
Soon after the Occasus call started, the Avatoyia call began as well. It was just as abrasive and loud. Instinctually, half of the Abodans sang the words of the Occas while the other half sang the words of the Avats. Their voices joined together to create a ghoulishly macabre melody of lament that reflected the deep mourning of the years of enslavement that had been bestowed on them.
Freedom belongs to the Father of the Avatoyia, the one to whom the power was given;
your blessing be on your people and to all who serve you!
The screams of the Ordinary Men quickly filled the air, as they feasted on the sorrowful sound that came from the Winnowing Floor beneath them.
The Lord of the Occasus stepped forward as the calls ended, silence again descended on the space.
Lord Roghet the III was his name. Roghet was tall even by Occasusan standards, and he was built more like an ogre than an elf in Hala's opinion. His thick arms were covered in the tattoos denoting his status while his face was half hidden by the black veil he wore over it. He was dressed in black robes made of the finest materials while a white cape the size of a bed sheet flowed from his shoulders. And, as was the Occas tradition, the sterilized skull of his predecessor rested as the centerpiece of the crown on his head.
His deep voice echoed through the arena as he began to speak.
“An armistice has been reached between the noble House of the Occasus and our brethren the House of the Avatoyia. It will be renewed monthly until such time it is no longer necessary.”
Murmurs passed through the crowd, there had not been a truce between the Houses in the thousand years since just after the Dark Night fell and the Dark Creation rose to its fullest power.
“It has become clear to us, you all have become lax and taken advantage of our benevolence. We are searching for whoever was in the Archives last night.”
6. gael speaks
The room was silent. Of course. No one dared admit to the violation. They all knew the consequence would be quick and severe. The silence quickly grew uncomfortable, almost as suffocating as the temperature as the Abodans looked to the gray floor. Their shoulders slumped under the withering glares of their oppressors standing on the stage high above them and stationed at the guard posts throughout the arena.
In fact, my dear Friend, most of the Abodans honestly had no idea who was in the Archives last night. You see, though they all knew it was likely the Searchers who were being now sought, only a handful of Abodans actually knew that the current Searchers were Ruha and Hala.
For reasons such as now, the real identities of searchers had always been one of the most tightly held state secrets. At present, the identities of the searchers were known only by three other persons aside from Ruha, Hala and their Uncle Gael. And I'm sure you're wanting to know who those other three persons are, but in due time, my dear Friend, in due time.
“It was me! I was in the Archives last night, had myself a good old time too!”
A high-pitched, yet slightly robotic voice came from the left side of the room. All eyes turned to see who it was, though by voice alone everyone in the room knew exactly who it was. Their suspicions were confirmed as all those who were surrounding Ruha, Hala and Uncle Gael quickly backed away. The three suddenly found themselves with elbow room to spare as they were left in the middle of a small open space in the overly crowded room. From their guard posts, the Ordinary Men shined several spotlights at them, further confirming there was no question who had spoken.
The uncomfortable silence quickly turned to a hush of dreaded anticipation. Everyone knew Gael was not the one who had been in the Archives last night. He was too old. Plus, it was impossible. Uncle Gael had little physical control of his dark green colored body and there was no way he could have snuck into the Archives in the middle of the night.
Uncle Gael had been born with a degenerative disease. In his early years, the diseases had barely afflicted his body, but it had progressed more rapidly since the girls’ parents, his dear friends, were taken away, to the point that he was now only able to get around by the motorized wheelchair he had built for himself and controlled with his breath.
For you see my dear Friend, as much as his body limited him, Uncle Gael’s mind was seemingly limitless. He was brilliant if not slightly eccentric and he never missed an opportunity to needle the leaders of the House of the Avatoyia and Occasus.
As an advisor to both leaders, Uncle Gael was one of the few Abodans able to get away with openly mocking the Lord of the Occasus and the Father of the Avatoyia. His wisdom was sought often in all areas of governance. Not only was Gael the only one on the ship who fully understood the food and water production systems that kept them all from starving, but he had also developed the weapons systems for both Houses.
Gael's official title was Head Consulting Engineer which basically meant he was responsible for all the thousands of processes that constantly needed tweaking and refined in order that The Akkedia would stay in orbit around the planet below.
“Who said that?!” Roghet's voice roared through the sound system, creating painful feedback that echoed from wall to wall of the Winnowing Floor.
“You know who it was, Roghet.” Gael response led to a collective gasp from the assembled Abodands and their sovereigns.
No one but Gael would have the audacity to speak so informally to the Lord of the Occasus. For the second time today, Hala stifled a giggle. Even Ruha had to put her hand across her mouth in order to appear aghast when actually she was merely hiding the smile on that had formed on her face.
Gael continued. “And you know no one was in the Archives last night except maybe your clumsy Ordinary Men tripping over themselves because they got scared of Jhaomson's bombs going off outside.”
Another gasp rose from the collected assembly as Gael, true to form, referred to Father Jhaomsom the Pious, Father of the Avatoyians, by first name only. The Lord of the Occasus and the Father of the Avatoyia both cringed and seethed at the reminder of the still new truce they had signed only hours before and at being addressed so disrespectfully in front of their servants.
“Perhaps you all just had a bad dream last night? Too much wine with dinner maybe?”
Gael met Roghet and Jhaomson's glares with a knowing gaze, but he kept his words light and vague, careful not to push too far. It was a delicate balance between maintaining his usefulness and maintaining his autonomy. For, as everyone knows, anyone is replaceable if they cause too much trouble.
The Lord of the Occasus and the Father of the Avatoyia fumed silently. They felt mocked, but they dared not say why. But, they knew they had to respond to Gael's challenge somehow. After a few moments of hushed consultation with each other, Father Jhaomson spoke. His voice was shrill and arrogant.
“You are all insolent and ungrateful. ½ rations for the rest of the month. Bring Gael to us so that we can determine his punishment for leading your insolent ungratefulness.”
The crowd let out a sigh of relief. This was a relatively light punishment for an incident that had caused such an unprecedented truce between the two houses. But, then again, this was a relatively light punishment for an incident that had caused such an unprecedented truce between the two houses.
There was much whispering and ruminating amongst the Abodans as they filed out of the Winnowing Room to return home to get ready for the day’s work. They would all be expected to work an extra hour or two today to make up for the time missed for the assembly.
A tremor of dread ran through them all but for some, those who were more attuned to such things, a slight, small seed of hope was also present in them. But, then again, seeds of hope had withered and died many times before.
Gael was escorted into the opulent quarters of the House of the Occasus. The wheels of his chair came to a rest before the throne of the Lord of the Occasus. Father Jhoamson stood awkwardly beside the throne. As a ruler himself, he felt he should be sitting on a throne but he knew better than to ask for one. The top of Jhoamson's head barely came to Roghet's chest. He would look especially foolish sitting in a chair that was too high for his feet to touch the ground.
Roghet, the Lord of the Occasusans, sat and removed the crown and veil that had previously masked his black and white speckled face. He leaned back in the throne as his broad shoulders slumped slightly. His light blue eyes showed signs of worry and he sighed deeply before addressing Gael.
“How did you know of our dream, Gael? What did it mean? Both Jhoamson and I's advisors are clueless. And Urak stays silent. You have always been wise in the ways of discernment. What does Elo tell you?”
7. a stranger at the door
After the day's shift had ended, Ruha and Hala walked back to their quarters with Dexx. Their uncle would be back later tonight after enough time had passed that Lord Roghet and Father Jhaomson could say Gael had been sufficiently punished, though Ruha and Hala both knew nothing would happen to Gael, nothing ever did, he was much too valuable to the Houses.
“What do you think really happened last night?”
Dexx asked in part because he truly had no idea and in part because the sisters always seemed to have some idea of what was really going on.
“Who knows? The Avats and the Occas do whatever they want. You know better than to try to figure out their logic other than to assume self-preservation.” Ruha responded as she wisely decided to steer the conversation in another direction.
“Did you hear about the latest projections? Uncle Gael is worried we won’t hit our numbers again.”
Now, my dear Friend, projections and numbers were always a good distraction and for good reason. Like farmers in the old days, the Abodans always could find a reason to worry about projections and numbers. But, even worse now, the Abodans had failed to hit their production goals for three years in a row. That had never happened before in the thousand years since the Dark Night fell and the age of the Dark Creation had rose.
Morale was low not only among the Abodans but throughout the whole ship. The Occasusan and Avatoyian populations continued to grow larger every year. It would be one thing if resources had kept up but in fact, availability seemed to be shrinking.
Though whether availability was truly less or not was slightly a matter of debate. Despite the best efforts of those in charge, a nasty rumor had persisted that those in the highest positions of the House of the Avatoyia and the House of the Occasus still enjoyed an excess of comfort.
But, for the non-aristocratic Occas, the non-politically connected Avats and seemingly all of the Abodans, the veracity of the rumor mattered little. At the end of the day, food yields and water levels were both way down and material goods production had come almost to a standstill this year. Somehow though, luxury goods were still being produced at an all time high.
Even Gael seemed at a lost to explain what was happening. Or at least, Gael chose not to comment publicly about what was happening. In private, as Ruha and Hala well knew, Gael had all manner of opinions on why resources were low and goals were not being met.
The Abodans were especially concerned though because as the mindset of an abundance of resources slowly changed to a scarcity of resources mindset, the Avats and Occas became much less willing to share with not only each other but especially the Abodans.
Of course, the attitudes of the Occasusans and the Avatoyians made sense. The Abodans were always given a choice to join the Houses. Each year at the Winnowing Feast, all ten-year-old children were given the choice. Join a House or remain a slave. Granted, joining a House met leaving one’s family but that was a small price to pay when the reward was freedom.
Fortunately, as was often said in the Occasusan and the Avatoyian homes, the Abodans were often too simple-minded to think long-term so most chose to remain a slave. There was always a slight fear that the Abodans would wise up and then the Houses would have to figure out how to get done all the undesirable tasks that they had required the Abodans to do for generations upon generations. There were many prayers of thanks said every year by the Occas and Avats that that had not yet happened.
But, I digress again, my dear Friend. The Occas and the Avats believed that those Abodans who chose to remain with their families were saying they wanted to be treated as less and so the Houses were happy to oblige.
Now, every so often, questions were raised about if the Winnowing tradition was fair, if the age of ten was too young to make such a life changing decision and if those children of the Abodans who had not yet reached the age of ten should really be punished for the sins of their mothers and fathers.
It was usually an Occasusan academic who brought up the questions. But, those questions were quickly dismissed by the Avatoyian academics. They argued that those were not pleasant questions and who wants to think about unpleasant things? The House of the Occasus always agreed.
“I’ve heard that too.” Dexx said with the confidence of someone who hadn’t heard but wants to appear they have.
“I’ve heard it’s the worst it’s ever been. My father and his friends said that the reserves are at critical levels. I even heard they may cut rations in half for good. My mother and her cousins were talking about it last week.”
Dexx had not heard any of this but he had had a crush on Ruha for over a year now and he was trying to make an impression in a way that even grown men sometimes do when in the presence of someone they like as perhaps more than just a friend.
That is, he was making more than a bit of a fool of himself.
“Who’s that standing at your apartment door?” Dexx asked Ruha as they turned the corner of the long corridor that led to Ruha and Hala’s home, abruptly interrupting the conversation they had been having (or more accurately the conversation he had been having with himself and Ruha had been politely listening to.)
The girls could just barely make out a large figure standing in the shadow of the entryway. Or perhaps, it was two figures? Or three? It was hard to tell from where the three children were walking. Unhelpfully, the figure was dressed all in black which made it hard to make out the definition of its body. Or maybe there was some red in its clothes as well? It was hard to know as it seemed the artificial light was playing tricks on them. Overall, it seemed there was a shimmering effect to the figure which made no sense at all.
Whatever it was or how many of it there were, Dexx’s loud footsteps echoed through the corridor reaching the figure and announcing their pending arrival. The figure heard their approach and looked their way.
Hala stopped, frozen in mid-step, as a memory from the previous evening’s excursion came back so strong she momentarily thought she was literally back in the Archives. It was its eyes, eyes like the color of fire. They were the same as the figure she had seen last night, the figure who had been standing outside the window, somehow withstanding the coldness and lack of oxygen of space.
Its eyes blazed so intensely it seemed to be looking through her to the deepest parts of her soul.
From what seemed like a long way away, she could hear herself shouting “Who are you? How are you here?”
Hala felt darkness enclosing her senses as she started to slump to the floor. A quiet, gentle but strong voice that reminded her slightly of her mother was the last thing she remembered before she slipped into unconsciousness.
A quiet, gentle but strong voice that whispered, “Follow me.”
8. in the meadow
“Hala? Hala? Hala!!!” Ruha shouted at her sister, concern heavy in her voice.
“Dexx, call Doctor Srover! Hurry, please!”Dexx ran off to get help as Hala groggily regained consciousness.
“What happened? Why are you yelling at me?” she asked Ruha with a bit of annoyance in her voice.
“You fainted as we were walking up to see who was at our door.” Ruha replied, slightly annoyed that Hala was slightly annoyed at her, as is typical for siblings.
Hala snapped back into full, clear conscious when Ruha mentioned the figure at the door.
“Where did it go?” Hala jumped up quickly to look down the corridor, almost falling over again as she was still a bit woozy.
“I don’t know. You fainted and when I looked up again, it was gone.”
Ruha put her arm around her sister and helped her steady herself as they finally arrived at their door and went inside.
Not more than moment or two after Ruha helped Hala get settled in their room, the front door slammed open and Dexx came in, breathless, with Doctor Srover in tow.
“I got the Doctor, where’s Hala? Is she okay?!”
“Thank you Doctor Srover for coming so quickly. Oh, and thank you too Dexx. You’re so helpful.” Ruha said as she met them in the entryway.
Ruha was careful to acknowledge Dexx's helpfulness. She knew Dexx liked her, they had talked about it a year ago, but she thought she was much too young to be anything but be friends with a boy, even one who was as loyal and kind as Dexx.
“Hala’s laying down, she feels okay. I'm sorry for the inconvenience but there’s no need for the doctor anymore. Uncle Gael can check on her when he gets back or if he takes too long, I’ll call you back, Doctor Srover.”
As Ruha spoke, she gently ushered Dexx and the doctor out the door. She smiled to herself, feeling slightly amused and slightly guilty as she shut the door and heard the doctor admonish Dexx sharply for overreacting. She then went to check on Hala.
Hala was sitting up in bed. She looked up as her sister entered the room. Speaking with a somberness that was not normally present in her voice, she asked Ruha if Dexx and the doctor had left.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
After Ruha reassured her that they were alone, Hala took a deep breath and began to speak.
“I know this is going to sound crazy, but I know who that was at our door. I mean I don’t know them by name, but I’ve seen them before!”
Ruha had not quite decided if Hala was being serious or if perhaps she had knocked her head against the concrete floor when she fainted. But, she nodded for Hala to continue.
“I saw it last night in the Archives. That’s why I slipped, it was outside the window and it winked at me. Then today, it said to follow it.”
Ruha was now certain Hala had knocked her head against the floor when she fainted. Ruha wondered if she had dismissed the doctor too prematurely.
“What do you mean, ‘follow them’?” Ruha asked cautiously. "Are you sure you're feeling well, Hala?"
Hala’s response was interrupted by the loud screech of the front door turning on its hinges and opening. Both girls were again reminded that for all his brilliance, Uncle Gael had never been great at taking care of projects around his own home.
Uncle Gael rolled through the door, letting it swing shut behind him. He came to a stop outside the door of the Ruha and Hala’s bedroom. “What a curious day, wouldn’t you say, girls?”
Uncle Gael looked tired and not just because he had been woken up this morning much earlier than he had planned. What little hair Gael had left on his head had turned completely white and his body hunched into itself more and more every day. Gael was almost ninety but there was no retirement for Abodans. They were expected to work until death welcomed them into the next life.
“Father Jhoamson and the Lord Roghet are quite spooked by something that happened last night. You all wouldn’t know anything about that would you?” Gael asked with a half-smile on his face as he only had muscle control anymore over one side of his mouth. The other half drooped in what seemed to be a perpetual frown.
Ruha and Hala quickly filled Uncle Gael in on what happened at the end of their search last night and then what they’d seen on the walk home.
Uncle Gael sighed deeply as the sisters finished their report. “Hala. Ruha.” He addressed them both in turn before continuing, “this is good, good news. It would seem something is happening. Something has changed again. But, this time, the change seems different, I can sense it.”
“But, we must be careful, very careful. Change has started before, in almost every generation there has been the beginning steps of change. But every time, every single time, the leaders of Houses have somehow caught wind of what was occurring and ended the change through the only means they know, brutal oppression. That’s how we lost your parents…” Gael’s voice trailed off as he realized too late he may have said too much.
“But that's enough for tonight. It's time for bed, girls. It’s late and I know you both have new assignments starting in the morning.”
Ruha and Hala both wanted to ask Gael more about what he had meant but they both sensed now was not the time to ask. They changed into their sleeping clothes, laid down on the old mattress they had found years ago. Exhausted, they both quickly entered the world of their dreams.
“You have done well, my child.” Ruha heard the voice of her father and felt the warm embrace of her mother hugging her.
Ruha smiled as she looked up to see their faces again. She reflexively imprinted them into her memory as she always worried one day she will wake up and will have forgotten their faces.
“When will we be reunited? I pray to Elo every day that we can be a family again.”
“Soon, I hope, soon, my child.” Her mother replied. “But, let us focus on other things right now. Time is short tonight. And look, your sister is here now. Let us go play before the night of morning returns.”
Ruha looked and saw Hala approaching from across the meadow she and her parents were standing in. Hala's joy was evident in her steps as she alternated skipping, running and dancing to them. She forged a path through the yellow petalled black-eyed susans, the long stemmed milkweeds and other wildflowers that made up the prairie grass around her.
“Ruha! Mother! Father! You’re it!” Hala shouted to all of them, assuming they would figure out who was it. They laughed and played and gave thanks to the Land, experiencing again the joy of togetherness Ruha and Hala had often experienced in their dreams since their parents had been taken away.
This time together was their secret, a gift from Ru-ach. It was a mystery that none of the Avatoyians or Occasusans knew about. And more importantly, it was a gift that the Houses would be unable to do anything about even if they did know.
A few moments before it was time to wake, they all sat together and watched the light set behind the mountains that sat far off in the distance. They huddled close while listening to the crashing waves of the great sea behind them.
“Your dark night is ending soon, girls. Remember the way of the Ancient Ones and that Elo will be there when you need her most.” Though the sisters both feared the coming darkness of morning they found comfort in the hope of their parents.
Ruha and Hala both promised they would follow the Way of the Path no matter where it led them. Their father laughed, a deep hearty laughed that filled their souls with joy. Their mother smiled, a radiant glowing smile that warmed the depths of their being.
The sisters and their parents embraced again, giving hugs all around with promises to see each other again the next night. Smiling from a good night's rest, Ruha and Hala woke up.
9. a day in the life
Several weeks had passed since the Abodans had been summoned to the Winnowing Floor. Life had returned normal or whatever passed for normal these days. Half rations had passed from one month to two and there was no real hope of that ending any time soon.
Gael had been spending more time than usual meeting with Lord Roghet and Father Jhaomson in a vain attempt to convince them to decrease luxury production in order to free up more resources to produce material goods and other desperately needed items.
But, as was typical of the Occas and Avats, neither Lord Roghet nor Father Jhaomson wanted to hear any of Gael's arguments, no matter how persuasive they might be or how dark green in the face he became. It was deeply engrained in both Houses that they had been given their luxury goods as a blessing from Elo. It would be sacrilege to do anything but enjoy them. They had earned their status through the generations of good works their peoples had completed. Besides, all Occas and Avats gave a small portion of what they had to the poor among them. It was not their responsibility to care for everyone's needs. Those in need had to do their part too.
All the extended days for Gael left the sisters with plenty of free time to fill once their shifts ended each day. Though, of course, my dear Friend, Abodan children, like most children, had plenty of responsibilities to occupy their free time.
Four afternoons a week, the Abodan children attended three hours of school. There was only one school in the settlement and it catered to all ages, from the youngest to the oldest. For the adults, the school provided re-education classes to assist those who may have forgotten the lessons they had learned as children. As the Occas and Avats were fond of saying, one was never too old for re-education.
The school was located on the opposite end of the settlement from the Abodans' living spaces which made for a long walk after what was normally an already long day. The classrooms were small and cramped like seemingly everything else in the Abodan settlement aside from the Winnowing Floor. Classes were taught by Occas and Avats and a contingent of Ordinary Men were posted throughout the classrooms and hallways.
Those Occas and Avats who taught the classes were held in especially high regard for their willingness to daily enter the Abodan settlement. They received much high praise from the Occasusan and Avatoyian leaders if not much high pay.
The children learned from a jointly approved Occasusan and Avatoyian curriculum which emphasized their respective histories. Classes were taught in the High language, a mishmash of the old Occasusan and Avatoyian langauges that had at some point merged into one and became the mostly commonly used language on The Akkedia. There was no official language on the ship but to not use the High language was generally considered extremely perfidious.
The Abodans had their own language, of course. The roots of their language could be traced to the Ancient Ones but the Abodans language was not allowed to be spoken or written in the school. To the satisfaction of many in the Occasusan and Avatoyian Houses, the Abodan language was slowly dying out. In fact, Ruha and Hala knew only a handful of words and phrases in the Abodan dialect which was a handful more than most of their peers.
Much like their language, any semblance of Abodan culture was also strictly forbidden from being taught in the settlement school. In order to learn their own history, most Abodan children attended another, separate class once or twice a week. These classes were held in secret at various homes throughout the settlement on a rotating basis so as not to attract too much attention to any one home.
The Occasusan and Avatoyian leaders were aware of these secret gatherings but they did not give them much attention except when a crackdown on the whole settlement was needed. The prevailing opinion was that allowing the Abodans a slight bit of controlled autonomy was better than not allowing them any autonomy at all.
The Occas wanted full control while the Avats had argued fiercely that to take all control from the Abodans would only allow them to become most free. With freedom comes power and power is not what anyone wanted the Abodans to have. The Occas begrudgingly conceded that the Avats had a point.
Ruha and Hala enjoyed their lessons even if what they learned had been heavily filtered. They liked being able to see their friends and the work was fairly easy. It wasn't a bad way to spend an afternoon as long as one behaved themselves and stayed out of the isolation rooms that the Ordinary Men were always keen to use when any student even mildly disrupted a classroom.
But, of course, the sisters enjoyed most when their lessons were over and their free time became truly free and theirs to chose how they would spend it. Many children their age might find themselves getting into all sorts of trouble with so much time without an adult present but the sisters were responsible types so they managed themselves well enough aside from an occasional spat or two that was quickly resolved itself once the offended remember that their was no adult around to run and tell.
Ruha and Hala's favorite activity they choose to do was to learn an old style of dance called ballet. Ballet was one of the great arts of the Ancient Ones. It was one of the many ways they had communed with Elo and though the power that came with that communion had mostly been lost, Abodans continued to dance. Not surprisingly, the Abodan people were widely regarded as the best dancers regardless of style. Even the most callous Occas and Avats would admit that an Abodan dance was a worthy sight to see.
“Hala! Hurry up, dance is starting and you’re going to be late.”
Ruha tapped her foot impatiently as she switched on the small screen that was mounted to the wall of their living room. Normally an old couch and even older coffee table sat in front of the screen but Ruha had already pushed them to the side to clear enough space in the small room for them to use the space to do their weekly dance lesson.
Hala came out of their room dressed in a slightly worn but still functional ballerina's outfit. Her leotard was black and her skirt and leggings were white. She had a pair of bubblegum pink ballet slippers on her feet that should have clashed with her light blue skin but somehow it was a look she was able to pull off. The shoes had once belonged to one of Dexx’s sisters and their heavy use showed.
“Fifth position, students.” Hala's teacher’s voice could be heard through the screen as she encouraged and critiqued Hala and the other students who had joined the lesson from their own quarters.
Ruha sat quietly in the corner of the room, out of view from the camera mounted on top of the screen as she waited patiently for her lesson to begin after Hala’s. She enjoyed a few moments of uninterrupted reading as Hala was momentarily occupied by her lesson.
Gael returned home at some point during Ruha's more advanced class. Knowing how intensely Ruha completed her practice, he said a brief hello and move onto the kitchen where Hala was busy preparing dinner for them all.
A few minutes later, while setting the food out, Gael and Hala could hear a series of goodbyes as the lesson ended and Ruha signed off. She joined them at the small, round table that sat in one corner of the galley kitchen where many fond memories had been made over the years.
"I hear you both have new work assignments tomorrow? How are we feeling about them?"
Uncle Gael opened the conversation as they began eating their dinner. And, of course, my dear Friend, concerns were brought up but only briefly as the three were only rarely ever able to stay on one topic for long. The conversation flowed with much laughter interspersed throughout as was the norm when Gael, Ruha and Hala shared a meal together.
10. what was decided
“Food, water and most importantly, luxury goods are still at critically low levels, your Lordship. We can’t wait much longer to make a final decision about the Abodans.”
Hala’s ears perked up at the mention of her people.
Being the newest, youngest and subsequently shortest of the Abodans who served in court of Lord Roghet the II, she had been tasked this morning to crawl through one of the ventilation ducts to fix a fan that had broken down.
It was a dirty job that had taken most of the day but her natural quietness had given her several opportunities on her first day alone to overhear conversations she should not have. Most of the conversations had been mundane or silly but she had gleaned at least a couple pieces of good gossip she was excited to laugh about with Ruha later that afternoon after their shifts were over.
Hala set her tools down quietly and crept closer to vent from where the voice had come. She was careful to stay far enough back from the slatted vent cover that her presence would not be detected by the sensors. But, that was plenty far enough that she could clearly make out what was going on in the room below her.
“The longer we wait, the more we risk a catastrophic systems failure and the suffering of the good people of the Houses of the Occasus and the Avatoyia. We have to move quickly, or we’ll be lost. You have both been extraordinarily patient with Gael but even this is beyond his abilities to fix."
Hala didn’t know the voice of the person speaking. She found his tone to be strangely hypnotic and pleasant but in a disconcerting way.
“I’m sure you’re right but what exactly are you proposing again?”
The excited, slightly nervous sounding voice came from the video projection screen mounted on the far wall. It belonged to Father Jhaomson the Pious.
The unknown person sighed, a slight sigh of subtle disgust before he began to speak again. His voice continued to be hypnotic and pleasant but there was an edge of irritation and arrogance in it, as if this was not the first or even the fortieth time he had explained his idea to the assembled group.
“Our resources are low. They have been low for three years in a row now and there is no hope of this changing. The Abodans continually fail to meet their production goals. Their laziness affects us all. The Abodans have let us come to such a state that it is no longer even viable for our ship to remain here in orbit around that useless, watery planet below.
Two courses of actions must be taken. We must seek out a new planet from which to draw new resources and we must cull the Abodans until only the bare minimum remain that can run the ship and serve our needs once we find our new home.”
Hala gasped quietly as the implications of what was being suggested sunk in. She could hear protests and questions from the Occasusan High Priests and the Avatoyian advisors while their respective heads of state remained momentarily silent.
“But, what makes you think there is another planet?” "Would the Akkedia even make it out of this system?" “Doesn’t tradition say we’re supposed to wait here for the Land to return?” And, finally, “What do you propose we do with the Abodans who aren’t chosen?”
Hala could hear the smile in the voice of the unknown person as he replied to the questions in a tone that conveyed flattery to his listeners.
“Well, of course, I defer to your judgments as I am just a humble servant in the court of your always brilliant and prescient leadership. Your decisions will cause songs to be sung about you for centuries to come.” The voice expertly stoked the egos of those listening to him.
“Perhaps, your ancestors were misinformed though. What makes you certain there isn’t another planet? Perhaps, that is what is meant by waiting for the land to return? That is, we must go find the land, so it can return?”
“That makes no sense at all!” Hala thought in her head even as the Occasusan High Priests expressed their agreement with the voice.
The voice continued, "And how do we know the ship won't be fine? Was it not built by the Ancient Ones? The Abodans only flipped a few switches and ran diagnostics to get it ready to be your home, a home way beneath your station I might add. Do you not trust the ways of the Ancient Ones?"
The Avatoyian advisors were just as quick to agree even as Hala shook her head quietly in disbelief that they would so easily accept the half-truths and outright lies being spewed before them.
Lord Roghet spoke next, his deep baritone voice easy to identify. “And, your solution for the Abodans?”
The voice laughed, a cruel laugh that would make even the bravest person shudder in fear.
“Who cares that much about the Abodans? They’ve chosen their path. You’ve let them leech off your people for long enough. Send them to the Void, drop them into the Eternal Wave, do whatever you want, they’re savages, mere beasts, why would you treat them as anything but property to be destroyed once their usefulness has expired? Unless, of course, you all have developed a soft spot for them?”
The room was quiet for the briefest of moments as the gathered assembly took in the words being spoken to them. A brief moment followed by a quick uproar as the Father of the Avatoyia and the Lord of the Occasus and all their High Priests and advisors loudly protested and reassured themselves that they had not, nor ever would, develop even the smallest of soft spots for the Abodans.
You see my dear Friend, a few of the gathered assembly had momentarily considered speaking out against the plan, a few that even included both Lord Roghet and Father Jhaomson. But, their inner conflict was quickly resolved by the dynamic of the moment. Urak knew what he was doing. The Occas weren't all evil. And neither were the Avats. Nor were the Abodans all good. They all simply existed in the moment of life in which they had been placed. And, of course, no one knew better how to manipulate that moment than Urak.
You and I would like to say we would have spoken out, wouldn't we my dear Friend? But whose to say, we wouldn't of gone along with it as well? Self-preservation and group dynamics are a tricky business, are they not? But, then again, those are questions for another time and another story I suppose.
As the assembly devolved into proclamations of masculine bravado, the one to whom the original voice belonged stepped forward and looked up. He was now clearly in Hala’s field of vision and she recognized him immediately.
She had never met him, but his reptilian features made it obvious who he was. His head resembled that of a snake, his skin consisted of dark green scales that seemed to absorb the light that emitted from the lamps placed throughout the room.
It was Urak. Or Urak the Accuser, as he was often called. He was an advisor to the powers-that-be in the Houses of the Occasus and the Avatoyia. He was not of the same species as any of them though. No one was even completely sure what species he was or even from whence he had come. He was ancient but he was not one of the Ancient Ones. It was supposed he had come from somewhere ancient-er. Urak was free to roam the ship as he pleased. Not even Lord Roghet or Father Jhaomson dared oppose him or his powerful guards who were aptly named the Violence Makers.
Urak was sometimes unseen for years but then he would suddenly reappear as if he had been there all along. There had been whispers in the Abodan settlement that Urak was back after having been gone for almost ten years. The sisters had asked their Uncle Gael as he certainly knew but he had declined to give them a clear response.
The Abodans had a particular fear of Urak's presence as it always seemed coincide with some sort of bad news for them.
Urak looked up towards the vent, the cruel smile still on his face as he seemed to lock eyes with Hala. Hala felt cold dread throughout her body and her heart felt like it was dying.
“Run along, little girl, go tell your Uncle. Go tell Elo. Tell whoever you want. It doesn’t matter, it’s too late. The final solution has been set in motion.” Urak silently mouthed his words to Hala, though to everyone else he would have appeared to be mumbling his own proclamations of bravado under his breath.
Hala was momentarily frozen by Urak’s words. Fear gripped her body as she realized Urak knew who she was. Her paralysis was only broken when Urak flicked his hand as if to dismiss her.
She crept back from the vent as quickly as she dared. She shuddered as she heard Urak begin speaking again. She could hear him ask a question but by the time the answer got to her, she was too far away to hear it clearly.
“Now, my brave and wise brothers, how are we going to sell this plan to your people?”
11. ruha's bad day
“Why do they hate us, Uncle Gael?”
Ruha asked a question to her uncle that she had asked countless times before. She had just returned from her first day working in the home of the Adanamays.
It had not been a good day.
Ruha had been re-assigned from her previous position as a nursery maid with an Occasusan family whom she actually had grown to like. They treated her well (at least considering she was Abodan) and their children were too young to understand the differences in status that were attached to their respective skin tones so Ruha's purple toned skin was more a curiosity to them than anything else. A curiosity that turned to delight when Ruha's skin tone grew lighter or darker depending on how well the children listened to her instructions.
Her new assignment was as an assistant to the head housekeeper in the home of the Adanamays, a wealthy and powerful Avatoyian family who had a reputation for treating their servants in exceptionally vicious and demeaning ways. The family held fast to the belief that sparing the rod was indeed spoiling the slave. Ruha's body was tired and her soul even more so. Though Ruha tried her best, she had not managed to escape the disapproval of Lady Adanamay, a particularly cruel old woman whose lips were etched in a seemingly permanent sneer.
“They hate us because they do not understand. They know they have so much, more material possessions than any one of us could ever hope for, more opportunity and privilege than our people have enjoyed in a thousand years combined. Yet they remain so dreadfully unhappy and unsatisfied. They thought that turning to the Dark Creation and ridding themselves of the light that allowed the Dark Night to fall was the solution to what ailed them.
But each successive generation has been forced to come to terms with the fact that our world, devoid as it is of any light but that light that is artificially made, is worse off than it was before. The Dark Night fell and will not rise again until it is Elo's will. Even if it had the desire to do such a thing, not even the Dark Creation can overcome Elo's will.
We know this all to be true but the Occas are too proud to admit their failures while the Avats live in denial of the fear they carry deep within themselves.
They see our ways, the peace that courses through our veins, a peace that is beyond their understanding. A peace that has carried us through even the bleakest of days. It is a peace they want but a peace they cannot have because it would require them to give up the status and power they have taken.
It angers them to such a degree that they are like beasts of the forest, frothing at the mouth to destroy us but knowing they ultimately cannot because we still serve too great of a purpose for them. Oh, the irony of not being able to destroy that which angers you the most as you are too dependent on it to live without it!
They try to break us then instead, to take our peace. They try to take everything from us because they are so deeply angry and afraid. Angry that life has not been what they were promised it would be and afraid that someday they will lose their position of power over those they have treated so cruelly for so many hundreds of years. Unwilling to do the inward work that would bring them their own peace, they project their anger and fear into hatred of us."
“I don’t feel peace, Uncle Gael. I feel sad, I feel confused and I feel angry too. I'm no better than any Occasusan or Avatoyian. You know well, Uncle, that too often, so much of me desires to want to hate them.” Ruha’s words hung in the air as her dark green eyes filled with tears. Uncle Gael moved his wheelchair closer to where Ruha sat on their dingy old couch. As best he could, he reach out one crippled hand and placed it on her arm in order to comfort her.
“I understand, my child. Our lives are difficult, the path we have chosen to follow is not easy nor is it fair. I ask every night for the pain of this world to end.” Gael paused briefly. “You’re missing your parents, aren’t you?” Gael asked gently.
Ruha’s head and shoulders slumped as she began to sob. Tears speckled her gray work uniform as they ran down her cheeks unimpeded by any need to hide them. Uncle Gael was right. Of course, my dear Friend, Ruha was upset about what she had had to put up with that day. Still though, Ruha was strong. She knew that this new assignment wasn't anything she was unable to handle.
Besides, it was rare that an Abodan of her age was assigned to such an important position for such a prestigious family. It was clear she was being trained to some day take over as head housekeeper for some powerful Occasusan or Avatoyian family. Indeed, it was the most prestigious position an Abodan woman could possibly hope to achieve.
Lady Adanamay may have been cruel but Ruha was not going to be broken so easily and lose the opportunity to better herself and her family's future. Nevertheless, days like this were when she missed her parents the most. Uncle Gael was wonderful and wise, but she wanted to be comforted and listened to by her mother and her father.
“I know I shouldn’t, but I hate them sometimes.” Ruha was no longer talking about the new family she was working for. “Why couldn’t they stay quiet? Why couldn’t they just be our parents and nothing more?”
Uncle Gael smiled, a genuine smile of kindness and empathy. “I understand your pain, my child.”
He knew he didn’t have any answers that would suffice to answer Ruha’s questions. He also knew Ruha was not really looking for answers. She already knew the answers to the questions she asked. She needed someone to be present with her in her pain, to comfort and to console.
It did not matter how long ago Ruha had lost her parents. It could have been six days or sixty years. In moments like these, it may have well been six minutes as memories of moments lost flooded Ruha's thoughts. Gael, of course, knew this and so he responded in a way that was most kind.
“May I grieve with you?”
Ruha sighed deeply and nodded as they began to grieve again the loss of Ruha’s parents. Uncle Gael and Ruha’s lamenting cries filled the room as they together mourned the loss of a life that had not been. They mourned the loss of a life that had been dreamed of and hoped for but would never be.
Eventually, their cries stopped, and they sat in silence together. They took deep breaths together, breathing in slowly, pausing momentarily, and slowly letting their breath out.
After a few more minutes, Ruha finally broke the silence as she spoke calmly “I understand why what happened happened. It’s just that, I don’t really like that it did.”
“I know, my child. And, nor should you.” Gael spoke gently as a peaceful stillness settled over the room.
Less than a minute later, the tranquility of the moment was broken as the front door slammed open and Hala burst through. She was out of breath; her dark blue face was streaked with tears; her eyes were angry, and her body showed the nervous energy that was coursing through her.
“What is it, Hala? What has happened?” Uncle Gael inquired hesitantly as he was not completely sure he wanted to know. With Hala, it could be the end of the world or it could be that she punched another boy at school for speaking ill of one of her friends.
Gael's hopes for the latter were quickly dashed as it immediately became clear that Hala's entrance was due to the former reason.
“I overheard something today while I was working on the fan in the ventilation duct that goes by Lord Roghet's war room. Father Jhaomson was having a summit with Lord Roghet, their High Priests and advisors. Urak was there too! I know it was him. The rumors are true, Urak's back, Uncle Gael!”
Hala stopped to catch her breath before she proceeded to quickly fill in Ruha and Uncle Gael on all that she had heard. They grew more and more alarmed at what they heard.
“I’m sorry girls, I have to go right away to speak to the Council. They must know about this. Don’t worry, it will all be okay. Stay here though until I get back.” Uncle Gael said as he attempted to hurry out of their apartment so quickly that he almost tipped himself out of his wheelchair while he spun himself around to leave.
No sooner had the door shut behind him that Ruha turned to Hala. They spoke almost in unison. “We have to go to the Archives tonight!”
12. in the calm
"I am certain she is telling stories. Lord Roghet and Father Jhaomson have assured me they understand the pressure we are under to meet the quotas. They promised we would work together to find a solution." Odo, one of the wealthier Abodans and the second longest serving elder spoke first after Gael finished his report. Odo's emerald tinted skin shimmered as he urged caution to the assembled elders.
Kasjan, a powerful maroon skinned elder who was always looking for a fight responded immediately as he jumped up and pounded his fist on the table they were seated around, "You're a fool if you ever believed the Avats or Occas were going to go easy on us. Even if she's telling stories, we would do well to take preemptive action before it's too late."
"I don't like this talk. No, I don't like it at all. We need to go to Lord Roghet and Father Jhaomson right away and let them know we believe nothing of the girl's tales. You'll recall we've always been told it's better to confess wrongdoing than be caught in it." Brone, an Abodan whose skin was a shade of yellow that matched his distaste to be a part of any form of conflict, interrupted Odo and Kasjan to give his thoughts on the matter.
"Confess wrongdoing?" Gael was incredulous, "The only wrongdoing committed was by Roghet and Jhaomson, you spineless fink!"
Angry and despairing voices echoed from the Council’s chambers as the eleven men and one woman who made up the Abodan ruling council argued late into the night about what action should be taken in regards to Hala had overheard. A resolution was unlikely to be reached before the dark of day replaced the night.
Hundreds of feet above the council, Ruha and Hala were making the long climb up the cables of the abandoned elevator shaft they rappelled down several weeks ago. They had not been back to the Archives since Hala had set off the alarms when she saw the shadowy figure outside the giant foot thick window of the Archives.
As usual, the sisters were completely silent as they climbed. But now Ruha shared Hala’s nervous energy. Their ascension up the cables felt different this time, more desperate and with higher stakes than ever before. Failure would not result in only another day of tired laboring as previous searches had. Failure would result in possibly the end of them all.
Ruha reached the top first where she rested silently beneath the floor of the broken service elevator as she waited for Hala who was still a hundred feet below her. Her mind was still racing from what Hala had told her and Uncle Gael.
Her thoughts sought to attack and distract her. “Why would this time be any different? Where hadn’t they looked? Could Hala be exaggerating? She was a little dramatic at times. I wonder what Dexx is doing right now. I hope I turned my light off. Is Uncle Gael going to be mad at us? Is this really the Way of the Path? Am I being true to the Abodans, to Elo?”
She let her thoughts come and go. She did not judge them, she merely let them be present in her mind for a time. She considered if they were helpful and for those thoughts that were not, she dismissed them while making a mental note to review them later when it was their time. When Hala finally reached her, Ruha’s mind was again calm and focused on the search that was to be completed.
Hala was calm and focused as well. The reason she had taken longer to reach the top was because she had been jumping back and forth from cable to cable as she climbed. It was harder to climb this way, but the extra physical effort effectively diminished the nervous energy she had been feeling so strongly ever since the conversation she had overheard a couple hours ago.
Once Hala was settled in place next to Ruha, the sisters began to sing softly. Their voices were not even as loud as a whisper as they sang protection over their search and a safe return home.
They gently pushed up two floor panels of the elevator and moved them far enough to the side to make a hole for them to crawl up through. Complete darkness descended on them as they both stood and adjusted their searcher's cloaks and flipped the hoods. Finally, they pulled down dark masks over their faces. Their natural light was completely contained and not even a stray ray could be seen.
The sisters took cautionary steps out of the elevator, their senses heightened and their bodies were tense and ready to bolt at even the slightest sense of danger. Ruha and Hala moved out of the elevator and they began what was always the most dangerous part of their searches. It was a long walk from the elevator corral to the where they could enter the Archives. The walk was in complete darkness but there was no cover from which they could hide if any of the Ordinary Men decided to shine a flashlight down the seemingly unused and abandoned corridor.
Ruha and Hala continued singing silently as they crept. It was a deeply moving song, my dear Friend, but it was not a song for you or I to hear now. Rather, the words of their song would only be heard by the essence of those protectors who had not been seen in a thousand years, and even before then, only rarely were they seen.
Ten minutes later Ruha and Hala paused and stopped several hundred yards from the entrance to the Archives. They were so close that they could see the artificial lights that had been set up by the Ordinary Men and hear their muffled conversations. The sisters waited a moment for their eyes to adjust to the soft light that just barely disturbed the pitch-black darkness that surrounded them.
They were at the secret entrance to the Archives. Or perhaps a better description would be the forgotten entrance. Or the service entrance. Call it whatever you would like, it was just an entrance that the Occasusans and the Avatoyians had never been able to find, though they had searched for it far more than they had ever searched for the manuscript as their inability in keeping the Abodans out of the Archives was a constant irritation. The original name of the entrance had long been forgotten so now it was simply referred to as the Sheep’s Gate.
The Occasusans and the Avatoyians would never be able to find the Sheep’s Gate because every time they got close, it simply moved. You see, my dear Friend, the Sheep’s Gate was special. It had been created by the ancient Abodans who had designed The Akedia. It had been designed so that only a certain type of person could enter through it. And before their deaths, the Elders had set it for a very specific type of person.
“Not too tall but not too small. Not too old but not too young. The shrinking innocence of youth but not too much of the wisdom that comes with age.”
Therefore, the Searchers were always children and teenagers like you. It was an exciting day when a young Abodan reached the age in which the Sheep’s Gate would appear for them and a somber day indeed when the Sheep’s Gate no longer would.
The Occas and Avats did know that the Sheep’s Gate only appeared to Abodans of a particular age. That is why they had set the Winnowing ceremony for the age they did. They had assumed the age of ten was too young for such a decision and most children at that age would choose safety and wealth over a life of servitude and poverty. Unfortunately, they were correct in their assumption as many children had been unable to resist joining a House.
Though, for the most part, the children making these choices made them with the lives of their future family members in mind and a desire to give them what would seem to be a better life. As was often said, there was a certain innocent wisdom to the choice these children made. Oddly though, after making this choice, these children were rarely seen again. The children made their choice, stepped onto a ship and, it was assumed, taken to new quarters nearer the surface of The Akedia, far away from the core of the ship where the Abodas were forced to live.
None of the Abodans served in their homes and their families were never allowed to visit and have contact. A small handful of the children were later occasionally recognized on the nightly news briefings, when they had arisen to positions of power within the Houses but in a thousand years, that had only occurred a half dozen times.
The combination of an offer of a better life and years of fruitless searching had led to the dilemma that the Abodans were now faced. That is, beyond Ruha and Hala, interest in becoming a Searcher, a training process that began at the age of 5, had waned for several years to the point that there were no more Searchers who would assume the role once Ruha and Hala grew too old.
Ruha whispered softly as Hala began to touch the outer wall of the Archives in a specific pattern. A soft humming noise filled the air, it was mechanical in nature, so it blended into the noise of the rest of the processes running through the ship and avoided setting off the sensors that had been set by the Ordinary Men. In less than a minute, a slightly shimmery door had appeared in front of the sisters.
Hala and Ruha began to sing in unison though again no audible words came from their mouths as they stepped forward through the Sheep's Gate.
If the Ordinary Men had seen them, it would have appeared as if they had walked directly through a solid wall. But, what had happened was much simpler, my dear Friend. The Abodans knew everything around them was made up of infinitely smaller elements. They knew there was infinitely smaller spaces between these elements. The Sheep’s Gate was merely designed to allow the Searchers to step through these smaller spaces without disturbing the elements themselves.
Hala and Ruha were in the Archives now. They removed their hoods and masks and they stepped forward quietly to begin again their search through the dimly lit rows of shelves found throughout the immense, dark space.
13. an offer
Hala climbed up to the window where she had been startled on their last visit to the Archives. She touched the portal, testing to see if there was something different about it. The curved glass was several inches thick, but her hand still felt the coldness of space outside. There was nothing special about this window she decided.
Hala shrugged her shoulders and climbed back down. As she turned to walk back to her sister, she felt nervous tension in her shoulders. The sort of nervous tension you might feel walking down a dark hallway with several open doors on each side. Logically, she felt there was nothing to fear, but her mind refused to completely accept that disputation. Deep in her mind, down in the place where instinct ruled her responses, Hala felt she was being watched and it made her feel deeply unsettled.
Hala’s walk turned into a light jog as she hurried to be back in the presence of her sister who was searching the stacks where she had felt they were so close before.
“Are you okay, Hala? Why are you so out of breath?” Ruha whispered in a pensive tone.
Hala replied as quietly as she could, “Yes, I’m fine. I just feel weird tonight. It feels weird in here, like we’re not alone, like someone’s watching us.”
“You feel that way because you aren’t alone.” A new voice came out of the darkness behind them. “I knew I would find you here this evening.” Both girls froze, not able to turn and face whoever it was or flee to the safety of home.
They could hear heavy, ominous footsteps slowly approaching them before stopping only a few feet behind them. “It's time we had a talk, girls.”
As Ruha and Hala turned, a single light clicked on which illuminated the figure standing there. Using all the strength they possessed, they managed to stifle the groans of despair that tried to escape their mouths as they realized who it was in the Archives with them.
“Don’t be afraid, girls.” the voice said in a slightly sarcastic tone, as the emphasis on the last ‘s’ made its voice sound like the hiss of snake. “I’m not going to tell the Ordinary Men you’re here. Rather, I have an offer to make you.”
Urak stepped forward so that he was fully in the light. Like when Hala had seen him before, the light seemed to bend towards him and then disappear in the scales of his dark green skin. He was not a physically imposing figure as he was only slightly taller than Ruha and he was dressed humbly in a simple white tunic and matching pants with soft leather shoes. If you didn’t know any better my dear Friend, you would think he was one of the good guys.
Urak's face was highlighted by the sharp break of his nose and the strange way his eyes stared so intently for he seemingly had no eyelids from which to blink. Or at least, no one could recall ever having seen Urak blink.
Ruha and Hala wanted to run. Their instinct was to run from the Archives as quickly as possible. But, their training held firm. They had learned long ago that instinctual responses aren’t always the best responses. They quickly pushed through their instinctual thoughts and processed their options as rationally as they could.
If they ran, Urak could easily sound the alarm and they would be caught. If they stayed, they might have an opportunity to get home safely. With a slight nod seen out of the corner of each other’s eye, they both agreed staying and hearing what Urak had to say was their best option for now.
Urak waited patiently for the girls to come to the decision he was confident they would make. He smiled once they did, a cruel smile that sent a cold shiver down the sisters’ spines.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for you two. I've been working quietly for centuries to ensure the right moment would come some day. Working right underneath her nose, letting her think I was doing her work in protecting her precious Abodans from being utterly destroyed first by themselves, then by the Occas and Avats.
You don’t know it but you two have been protected your entire lives. Your Elders wondered, and your Uncle suspects, but your parents knew how special you are. They all have done everything they could to keep the Houses from finding out who you are.
But, I knew. I’ve always known. I was there when she chose you two. You two over me! It sounds as ludicrous now as it did then.” Urak laughed as if mocking the sisters.
Ruha and Hala stood silently, a hundred thoughts and questions were running through their minds at once but the biggest questions that kept circling around their minds were who was she and what were they chosen to do?
Urak continued, outwardly pleased at the confusion he had placed in their minds.
“I have an offer for you. Come join me. You’ll be my soveriegns.
With me, you’ll both be protected from the coming purge of your people. You’ll be safe.
With me, you’ll want for nothing. How many nights have you gone to bed with hunger pains so deep you could do naught but cry yourself to sleep. You’ll hunger no more.
With me, you’ll rule all. The leaders of the Houses of the Occasusans and the Avatoyians are fickle and vain. They’re no match for what we can do. You’ll have power beyond your wildest dreams.
Ruha, Hala, join me and let the Abodans begin a new reign through you.”
Urak smiled again as he finished speaking, a seemingly sincerer smile this time but a smile still disconcerting. It was as if he had only read about a genuine smile in a book but had never actually done one himself.
Ruha and Hala both felt themselves being swayed by what Urak was promising. They had both wanted freedom for so long, they were often tired and hungry, and they knew they would be more benevolent rulers than theOccasusans and the Avatoyians or even the Abodan elders.
“How do we know your offer is sincere? That it’s not just a trick?” Ruha asked wisely.
Urak laughed. “You don’t and won’t know until you accept it. But, what do you have to lose by saying yes? I could have the Ordinary Men in here in seconds if I wanted. Why would I make such an offer if I wasn’t sincere?”
It was Hala’s turn to speak “Why us? What’s so special about us?”
“Nothing as far as I’m concerned but she thinks you are for some reason.” Urak replied, a glint of anger ever so briefly crossed his face. “You need to decide now. I can’t help you after tonight. You’re on your own. Don’t follow in the wasted steps of your parents.”
Urak paused, knowing full well the effect his last few words were going to have on the sisters.
Ruha and Hala’s blood turned cold at the mention of their parents. “How dare you belittle the honor of our parents!” Ruhu said with her voice suddenly strong and full of entitled anger.
“We would never join with you, Urak and your dark heart.” Hala replied just as fiercely.
“You silly girls. You can join the rest of the Abodans then and die like the dogs you are.” Urak replied coolly as he nodded sharply to the area above the sisters.
The girls looked up to see Urak’s guards circling in the air above them. They were the Violence Makers. They were the most feared of all the security forces found on The Akedia. Their physical appearance was much like Urak’s save for the two sets of massive leathery wings sprouting from their backs. Their wings were so gigantic and powerful that they created an updraft of air swirling around the room strong enough to knock heavy books off from the top shelves to the floor.
The Violence Makers had clawed hands and mouths permanently etched in a scowl. Dressed in dark tones that matched their scaly skin, their very presence was often mythologized as an indicator that death was on his way. For, my dear Friend, almost all who were taken by the Violence Makers were never seen again except for briefly before they fell to the Eternal Wave below.
Ruha and Hala stood back to back, defiant and not intending to be taken away without resisting. The Violence Makers encircled the girls, slowly approaching closer as they cut off any escape route the sisters may have had. The only sound in the room came from the whoosh of the Violence Makers flapping their wings and the girls nervous breathing.
Gevehard, the head of the Violence Makers dived forward and grabbed Hala. His hand was like a talon as he grasped Hala’s shoulder so tightly she let out a shriek of pain.
Orsolla, the second in command, grabbed Ruha just as sharply, dropping her to her knees in pain.
Maintaining their painful grip on the girls, Gevehard and Orsolla quickly alighted to the floor. Ruha and Hala were tough but they were still children. They were clearly overmatched by the squadron of Violence Makers and any considerations of resistance were quickly replaced with thoughts of compliance and self-preservation.
Urak motioned for Ruha and Hala to stand. then began to forcefully walk the girls out of the Archives. One Violence Maker walked in front of Gevehard and Orsolla while the rest of the Violence Makers followed behind two by two.
Urak brought up the rear of the procession, a triumphant smirk on his face. It was a smirk that quickly turned to a frown as the grim processional had not gone more than a dozen steps when a massive wall of light suddenly appeared in front of them all, blocking the way.
“Watch out!” “What is it?” Cries of confusion from the Violence Makers filled the air.
The wall of light was twice the size of of average sized Aboda and spherical in shape. It looked to be on fire with orange flames flaring out across the mass yet, no heat emanated from it. The group paused and looked to Urak for direction as for the first time in their lives, the Violence Makers felt true fear.
14. exodus
Urak glared and hissed under his breath. He was unsure what was happening but he was loathe for anyone to know.
The Violence Makers stood tensely waiting for direction from Urak. Their options were either to move forward towards the wall of light blocking their way or turn around and go the other way with whatever it was at their backs. And, of course, walking away from something unknown is a more unpleasant thought than walking towards it, my dear Friend.
Their options were further complicated by the fact that the grim processional was standing in an aisle between two massive storage units that stretched several miles through the Archives. Going around the light was simply not an option. Several awkward moments passed before the silence was finally broken.
“Let them go.” A voice, vaguely familiar to the girls, spoke from within the ball of light.
There was a long pause before Urak finally spoke again. His voice was slightly higher than usual, not enough for the Violence Makers or the sisters to notice, but enough of a difference that those who knew him best knew he was unsure of his words, “It’s just an illusion, Orsolla. Stop this nonsense. Keep going, Gevehard.”
The Violence Makers began moving forward again. The first Violence Maker came up to the light. With each step he took closer to the light, he felt his body growing warmer and warmer. Even though still no heat emanated from the light, he felt his clothes beginning to smolder and burn where they came into contact with his skin. He grimaced in obvious pain and changed course, stepping as if to walk around the light, but it simply expanded until it was stretched completely across the almost ten foot wide aisle.
Scowling, he pulled out a weapon. It was a standard issue Violence Maker firearm. He looked back momentarily at Urak as if for confirmation then he began shooting the light. He fired off several shots in rapid succession but shot after shot only passed through the wall of light and hit the ground behind it. There was no discernable damage done to the light itself.
Satisfied now that the light posed no actual physical threat, the first guard stepped forward to push through the apparition. But, the moment his body crossed the barrier into the light a painful scream erupted from the guard’s mouth and he immediately dropped to the ground, unconscious and barely breathing.
“Let them go.” The voice demanded again.
Urak scoffed in stubborn disbelief. “Never! It’s another parlor trick. Kill the girls you fools! An overgrown lightbulb isn’t going to be able to stop all of you.”
Urak was wrong though. No sooner had the words left his mouth, but a massive explosion rocked the Archives and filled the whole area with a light so bright that the Violence Makers were forced to cover their eyes to keep from being blinded. Gevehard and Orsolla had no choice but to let go of the sisters as instinctually moved their hands to their faces to shield themselves.
The explosion caused no damage to the area but it did trigger every warning system throughout the Archives and now the air was filled with a cacophony of screeching and overwhelmingly loud alarms.
“Girls, run!” The voice returned. It was a quiet whisper in their ears amidst the chaos that was sounding around them. The sisters saw a small opening appear on the side of the light. Gathering all their strength, saying a quick prayer in their heads, they both ran towards the opening.
Within seconds of the sisters crossing the opening, the light shifted and formed a protective dome around Ruha and Hala.
"What do we do now?" Hala asked the obvious but reasonable question.
The voice responded, "Walk with me to the Sheep's Gate. They cannot reach you while you are under my protection."
"But, where we summoned the Sheep's Gate earlier is an hour's walk from here! And that's without Urak, the Violence Makers and I'm sure now most of the security forces on the ship are after us!" Ruha made known her doubts sharply.
"Ah, don't underestimate the games Urak plays. He has sealed off the Archives with strict orders for no one to enter. Only his squadron of Violence Makers and he know you are here. Come, walk with me and you'll be safe."
Ruha looked at Hala who shrugged her shoulders as if to say, "what other choice do we have?" The sisters began to walk quickly back up the aisle towards one of the main corridor that would take them most directly back to where they had entered the Archives that evening. The protective dome of light moved with them as they went.
As light moved away, the Violence Makers quickly regained their senses. Gevehard, the first-in-command, roared an order to the rest of the Violence Makers to stop the sisters from escaping.
Orsolla, the second-in-command, knew they would not be able to reach the sisters directly due to the light protecting them but she figured she could do her best to slow down their escape. With a furious growl to match Gevehard's, she and several other Violence Makers spread their leathery wings and took flight. They quickly flew ahead of the sisters where they stayed in the air and began knocking over sections of shelving units to block the path.
The shelving units were over a hundred feet tall and weighed several kilotons. They were filled with all manner of long forgotten supplies. It would take a day’s work for a hundred Abodans to move just one section, but the Violence Makers knocked them down as easily as a child knocks down a house of cards. The Violence Makers were trying to block Rahu and Hala’s way. If they happened to crush them as well then all the better.
Several times the sisters stopped on instinct to avoid falling debris even though it all bounced harmlessly off the light that protected them. They became weary and hopeless as the path ahead was blocked over and over again. They wondered aloud if they should go back and find a way out that way. But, the voice coming from the light calmed them and urged them on, “Follow me, children. You’ll be safe. Just follow me.”
After what seemed like hours but was really only about thirty minutes, Ruha and Hala finally reached the end of the corridor they were following. It was open ground now between them and the Sheep’s Gate. They were less than a hundred yards from it, so close that they could see the green lights blinking around it indicating it was active. They were within fifty feet when a missile-like projectile whooshed past a mere foot over their heads. Gevehard, Osolla and the other Violence Makers had landed again and were moving to corner the girls against the wall in front of them.
Urak had paused behind the semi-circle of advancing Violence Makers as he too saw the Sheep’s Gate ahead. He knelt and shrieked loudly which caused an orb of energy from his mouth to be released. The orb was bright orange and quickly re-formed into a missile as it headed towards the Sheep's Gate.
Another massive explosion occurred as the missile hit its target and destroyed the Sheep’s Gate. Ruha and Hala were knocked off their feet as the light did little to protect them from the concussive wave that was released by the missile's impact and explosion. Their ears were started ringing, and their vision blurred. A groan of despair echoed through their minds as they struggled to regain their senses.
“They were going to die here tonight! The ways of their people would be lost! Why hadn’t they gone peacefully, maybe they could have talked their way out of this mess. Why don’t they go back?! It's not too late!” The doubts in their mind sounded eerily like the voice of Urak.
Rahu and Hala stumbled the last few steps as they reached the wall. They quickly checked the wreckage of the Sheep’s Gate though they knew full well it was a fruitless endeavor. The wall of the Archives had been designed to withstand much larger explosions so it was relatively unscathed save for a few pockmarks here and there. The Sheep's Gate was not designed with the same protections in mind and it had been completely destroyed.
In one breath, Urak had accomplished what the Occasusans and Avatoyians had been trying to do for a thousand years. There would be no escape through the Sheep's Gate now.
The sisters turned and pressed their backs up against the wall as Urak and the Violence Makers approached them across the open space. The wall of light still stood between them, still offering temporary protection at least.
“Let them go or be destroyed.” The voice from the light spoke again to Urak.
Urak scoffed, his confidence growing with each step closer the Violence Makers got to the sisters. "I know who you are. Your trick with the light was clever, I'll admit but your power here is weak. I can sense it waning already. I doubt you'll be able to stop bullets now."
“Ruha, Hala, now, go!” The new voice they recognized immediately as their Uncle Gael.
The girls were felt a wave of shock run through their minds as they turned around and saw the wall behind them had somehow been opened, like water that had been parted. They looked at each other with the same thoughts on their minds. “The Sheep’s Gate was ruined! How?! And Uncle Gael?!”
Wasting no time, Ruha and Hala tumbled into the hallway outside of the Archives, elated at their escape as the wall snapped back into place as soon as they had passed through it. They were thoroughly confused though at what had just happened.
They quickly decided now was probably not the time to figure it all out as another explosion rocked the area of the Archives from which they had just come, abruptly ending the sounds of the Violence Makers pounding on the wall from within. As silence descended again, they took a moment to breath. They felt almost giddy at their escape from near-death but they both knew they needed to remain focused and alert until they were safely back to their quarters.
Breathing deeply but quietly, Ruha and Hala pulled their hoods back over their heads, adjusted their masks and began another long, silent journey back home.
15. the dawn awaits
“Hala! Ruha! Get up, come quickly!!”
Hala and Ruha had only just fallen asleep after returning from what had been an unusually intense but ultimately unproductive search. They were so tired and dejected when they arrived home that they barely noticed that their Uncle Gael had not yet returned from what was surely a late night arguing with the Abodan Council of Elders over what course of action needed to be taken. It seemed like ages ago that Hala had overheard the conversation between Lord Roghet, Father Jhaomson, Urak and their advisors and hangers-on. It was hard to believe that not even a full day had yet passed.
The sisters threw robes on over their sleeping clothes and hurried to answer the door while rubbing the sleep from their still tired eyes. They flipped the switch for the exterior light to illuminate who could possibly be out there in the corridor at such a late hour.
Ruha peered through the peephole to see that it was Dexx who was at their door, banging the doorknocker loudly, yelling at the top of his lungs and likely waking up their neighbors up and down the hallway as well.
"Hold on a second, you know we heard you!" Ruha yelled back through the door with clear annoyance in her voice. She had barely opened the door more than crack before Dexx hurriedly pushed his way inside the foyer of their apartment.
“Dexx!! What are you doing?! What’s going on?! It’s the middle of the night!” Hala said sharply, not hiding her annoyance either at getting woken up from the beginning of a deep sleep.
“Be kind, Hala. Something’s wrong.” Ruha said to her sister gently as she immediately noticed Dexx’s red eyes as if he had been crying. “I'm sorry for my rudeness, Dexx. Tell us please, what’s going on?”
Dexx took a deep breath to calm himself but he was unable to stop the tears from filling his eyes and running down his cheeks. “It’s your Uncle…He’s…He’s…dead.”
“Something happened during the Council Meeting tonight, they think it was his heart. I’m so sorry, Ruha. I’m so sorry, Hala. The doctor sent someone by earlier to get you but no one was here I guess. I overheard my parents talking and I ran over so fast I don't think I even shut the door. I think I'm probably in a lot of trouble when I get back home...”
Hala and Ruha collapsed against each other as their bodies absorbed the shock of Dexx's news and they sank to the floor. They could hear Dexx continue on for several minutes but his voice seemed as if it came from a distance until he finally grew silent.
Hala and Ruha cried over the loss of their uncle as they sat on the floor of their apartment. Ruha tried her best to comfort her sister as she believed that was what would be proper as the oldest child but the pain of loss was too much and for a moment she could only sit there numbly and in shock.
Dexx stood awkwardly beside them, unsure of what to say or do as he suddenly realized that perhaps it had not been his place to deliver such news. Gael had been the only family the sisters had had since their parents had been taken away. He had never had children of his own or even been married. He was often called eccentric, but no one doubted his devotion to the sisters and his desire to raise them well.
“But, we should have known he was too old, too frail to hear what I’d heard, I was only thinking of myself. It’s my fault.” Hala said between sobs. “I forgot to remind him to take his medicine before he left. I was only thinking of myself. It’s my fault.” Ruha said as she too bordered on despair.
“Yes, he was old, but he was not frail. One missed pill would not have stopped what was his time to go. It is not your fault, Hala. It’s not your fault, Ruha. Only Elo decides when it is our time to leave this world.”
At some point after Dexx arrived, several more people had entered the sisters’ small home. A new voice was speaking now. It was a kind and empathetic voice that hid the decisiveness and authority of the person to whom it belonged. Tanja, the eldest Elder and the default leader of the Abodans, stepped forward and crouched in front of Ruha and Hala. With a hand on each of their shoulders, she continued on, “Your Uncle was a great man. We will mourn him greatly, we will mourn your loss, but we will also celebrate his life and hope his wait for the Everlasting Dawn is short.”
Tanja helped Hala and Ruha move from the cramped foyer of their apartment to the barely bigger living room where the sisters sat on their ratty couch. Their shoulders slumped and tears soaked the previously stiff collar of their robes. Ruha wiped her eyes and looked at Tanja. She tried to thank Tanja for being there but her words failed her as the shock of her uncle's sudden death washed over her again.
Tanja held back her own tears as she saw the deep pain and sorrow in Ruha’s eyes. She could not help but remember a similar moment several years ago. The girls were much younger then, but they had also just learned of the loss of those who they had loved. Tanja knelt in front of the sisters and put her arms around them both just as she had before many years ago. Tanja began to speak again; her voice was kind but also deeply mournful as she spoke a lament to the girls and to all those who had suffered the pain of loss.
“These girls, these innocent children from which some much had been taken and yet so much was still expected. How is this fair, Elo? Do you not hear the cries of your Children? Are your promises still good? I tire of waiting, I tire of seeing the pain in your Children. Why must they, the innocents suffer the trespasses of their Elders? When will you act? When will you be who say you are and not let our cries fall on deaf ears?"
She sighed deeply as she held the sisters close. She did not stop her tears this time, rather she allowed them to flow freely as they all mourned together.
You see, my dear Friend, though Gael was old, or ancient as Hala often teased, and though his death was to be somewhat expected, those who loved him still felt strongly the grief of his loss. The pain of loss was strongest in that moment that Ruha and Hala were told of Gael's death but as the sisters well knew, it was not a pain that would ever completely go away.
Days, months and even years later, all it would take was a favorite melody playing, the scent of a favorite dish lingering in the air or even a certain time of the year and that pain of loss would come right back, fresh as if Gael's death had only just occurred. But take heart, my dear Friend, for in those moments, in those moments when the pain of loss comes roaring back and forces you to remember those who you have loved, in those moments it is a reminder that those loved ones who have made their journey out of our lives are yet still with us and will never fully leave us. They are simply waiting for us to remember.
While Tanja sat with Ruha and Hala, Dexx, full of a brash but in this instance acceptable, self-appointed authority, and the others who had come with Tanja stood stoically in a semi-circle outside the front door as they kept the sisters from the prying eyes of crowd that had started to grow outside. There would be time later for casseroles and condolences. For now, Ruha and Hala would have this moment to grieve.
As the dark of the night passed into the dark of the day, the tears slowly became interspersed with moments of laughter as Ruha and Hala shared stories with Tanja of Gael's antics. As Dexx would comment many years later, it was a reminder of a passage found in The Way of the Path, "laughter mixed with tears, the sign of one who will be well missed but who well lived."
16. the kinsman
It had been three days since Gael’s death. There was a nervous tension throughout the ship. Even on the surface, the Occasusans and the Avatoyians were talking about Gael’s death. It had been breathlessly reported on the news that Gael was the only one who fully understand all the ship’s processes. No one person could replace him. It was doubted if even all of Gael’s assistants combined could replace the depth of knowledge and understanding Gael possessed.
Lord Roghet the III of the Occasusans, Father Jhaomson of the Avatoyians and their advisors and hangers on had already spent many hours tensely arguing over of how worried they should be while they denied to everyone else that there was anything to be concerned about.
In all of it, only Urak seemed unaffected. He merely leaned against the backwall, a slight smile on his face through it all.
Yes, my dear Friend, Urak somehow was able to escape the final explosion that night in the Archives. A full division of his guards had been lost, including his two most experienced Violence Makers. But, Urak had appeared the next morning, none the worse for wear. In fact, some would say he seemed more pleasant than normal.
Ruha and Hala’s small home had been flooded with visitors; those who were sincerely mourning and those who merely wanted to be seen by those who were mourning. It was a difficult time for the sisters. They were expected to be strong, to be good hostesses, to share in everyone’s grief while hiding their own.
In addition, there was no respite from their daily duties serving the Occas and Avats. For, my dear Friend, though the Houses did sometimes allow the Abodans a day or two off if they had a lost a direct relative, Gael was not a direct relative of Ruha and Hala so the policy did not apply.
The Avatoyians often expressed that they did not care all that much if the loved one was a direct relative or not but the Occasusans always countered that the policy would be taken advantage of and that eventually all Abodans would seek a day off work any time any one died. "Who then would wash the dishes," was the standard Occan rallying cry against any such change in the bereavement policy. As per usual in such matters, the Avatoyians quickly agreed.
“When will this all be over? I’m so tired of thanking these people for their condolences. If Uncle Gael was still alive, they’d still have their noses in the air and refuse to give us the time of day.” Hala was too emotionally drained to watch her words. She’d been standing in a receiving line for almost twelve hours now.
“Shhhh! They’re being kind now and we can focus on that.” Ruha responded sharply as she was too mentally tired to verbally spar with her sister. As the eldest, all of the funeral planning had fallen on her. And, despite Gael’s relative importance to the ship, they were still poor and had little funds to be able to give Uncle Gael the lavish honoring of his life that he deserved.
The Council of Elders had at least gifted a private berth for Gael’s body on the next funeral vessel rather than it being crammed into one of the Pauper’s holds where the bodies were kept of those whose loved ones could not afford a private berth. Gael’s body would be loaded on the funeral vessel before it was launched into the Void; there it was believed, the funeral vessel and the bodies within it would rest until the Everlasting Dawn finally arrived.
As the day went on, the line of mourners slowly dwindled until there was only a few left. Though she felt slightly guilty at the thought, Ruha felt a bit of relief as that meant Uncle Gael would be laid to final rest almost immediately after in a private ceremony with Elder Tanja down in the funeral bay.
Dexx, dressed in a black mourner’s outfit that was both too big in some places and too small in others, was the last to come through the line. Ruha couldn’t help but let a small smile come across her face as she saw how silly Dexx looked. She stifled a laugh though as she knew how uncomfortable Dexx felt in formal clothes and she didn’t want him to think she didn’t appreciate his efforts.
Hala, on the other hand, had no such qualms as she began giggling beside Ruha. Dexx heard the giggles and tried his best to ignore them. Unsuccessfully, albeit, but often trying is all one can ask and expect.
"I know I look ridiculous, Hala! My mother said I had to dress nicely for you all. This is my father's suit. It hasn't been worn in ages, not since my brother's time on the Winnowing Floor."
Hala quickly stifled her laugh as she mumbled an apology that was prompted by a well-placed kick to the shin by Ruha. Dexx wisely decided to move on quickly after seeing the angry glare growing in Hala's eyes as she looked in her sister's general direction.
As Dexx left the room, Elder Tanja and her Protectors stepped forward from where they had been waiting in the shadows in the back of the room. She began to sing softly as she approached the simple metal casket that held Uncle Gael’s body. Her steps were slow but long. As she passed gracefully by the sisters as they stepped in behind her. The sisters joined in Tanja's song of mourning as tears they had kept within them all day were all finally allowed to fall from the corners of their eyes.
Tanja’s Protectors took positions around the casket, three on each side. One closed the casket lid over Gael's now lifeless body, bringing one darkness over Gael one last time. Hala breathed a slight sigh of relief. She had commented earlier that it did not even look like Gael as he laid there in rest. She said he looked like some sort of wax likeness with none of the color that brought so much joy to their lives.
The Protectors lifted the casket, stomping their feet once in unison to signal they were ready.
The processional began to move from the apartment out into the corridor and down to the Winnowing Floor. Elder Tanja was first, followed by Ruha and Hala, and lastly, the Protectors with Gael’s body.
To the sisters great surprise, the mourners had waited for them after they had passed through the receiving line. They were lined up and down the corridor and in and around the Winnowing Floor. Some had waited all day. Even those who had just come for appearances had waited. It was there way of asking forgiveness for how they may have treated Gael while also giving Ruha and Hala the respect their Uncle had deserved but never really received in his life due to his physical disability and closeness with Lord Rhoghet and Father Jhaomson. Ruha assumed there would be a few close friends and perhaps another Elder or two waiting when they proceeded from their apartment to the funeral bay but she was over overwhelmed by the support shown by her fellow Abodans.
As the processional passed, almost the entire Abodon population had crammed themselves into the Winnowing Floor. The only open space was a small, narrow path that snaked its way from the center platform to the doorway that led out to the elevator to the Funeral Bay. It was located directly opposite the doorway from which the processional entered.
The moment Elder Tanja’s foot entered the Winnowing Floor, the Abodans nearest her began to sing. They joined her in the song of mourning. Soon, one half of the Abodans were singing a lament of the life that was lost. Their voices quickly drowned out those of the small processional as the room pulsed with an array of colors as the Abodans’ auras brightened and darkened in time with their song.
In just a few minutes, the processional reached the halfway point of the room. Tanja stopped and held up her arm. The singing immediately ceased as she began to speak.
“Gael al Go-el, you followed well the way of the path set before you. Your rest is well deserved. Your long suffering has ended, may your wait for the Eternal Dawn be now swift.”
Tanja began to sing again. This time it was a song of celebration and joy. Ruha and Hala joined in, as did the other half of the Abodans. Ruha and Hala’s tears still flowed freely, but their tears were joined by laughter and exclamations of joy. Ruha and Hala and others began to dance, their movements celebrating and honoring the life of their Uncle.
It was a wonderful sight to behold, my dear Friend. Throughout the entire ship there could be heard the Abodan songs of morning and celebration. The songs were only sung together on special occasions and only with explicit permission from the Occasusans and Avatoyians. For when sung together, the Abodans created a melody that was both haunting and joyful and full of power.
The whole of the ship trembled and groaned from within as the Abodans sang to honor Gael's life. High above the Abodan settlement, Occas and Avats from all walks of life trembled in slight discomfort even if only a few knew why. Those few knew the power of the old songs, even so many millenniums later when their effects were so much weakened. To let the Abodans sing for too long risked catastrophic damage to the ship my dear Friend. Or worse, a shift in the balance of power between the Abodans, Occasusans and Avatoyians.
The processional quickly moved the rest of the way across the room. They stepped onto the elevator and grew silent again as the doors closed behind them and shut out the last of the lingering sounds of mourning and celebration.
17. unexpected guests
Ruha and Hala stood quietly beside Gael’s casket as the elevator descended quietly to the Funeral Bay. They both took deep breaths to recompose themselves and prepare themselves for the final part of putting Gael’s body to rest.
“It’s so cold down here.” Hala said as the elevator stopped and the doors opened.
Ruha was quick with a response, “This is basically a morgue, Hala. They have to keep it cold to preserve the bodies of those who have passed on until a funeral vessel is full and it can be sent into the Void.”
“Well, someone could have at least told us to bring a coat or blanket.”
Tanja exchanged a look of amusement with one of her Protectors at Hala’s ever present willingness to say what is on her mind.
They all stepped out of the elevator and they began walking towards a funeral vessel that was sitting near the bay doors. Funeral vessels were nothing special in appearance my dear Friend. They were white, box shaped ships that were about the same size as the sister’s living quarters if all the interior walls were removed. The ships were piloted remotely from the bay. In a pinch, someone could pilot the transport ship from within but it had been over ten years since that had been necessary.
There was no discrimination between Abodans, Occasusans and Avatoyians on the funeral vessels other than ability to pay. There were all kinds of options to be had in regards to how a loved one’s body spent their final voyage to the Void and the funeral bay workers were all too willing to take advantage. Occasusans families usually paid for ornate, gilded interiors while Avatoyians paid for privacy and an uncrowded ship.
Abodans were allowed to upgrade from the pauper’s hold to a private berth but the expense was usually deemed not worth it except on the rarest occasions when honoring an Abodan who had lived a particularly virtuous life, or you know if their family had the money. Of course, many would say that a virtuous life is what led to a family being blessed with lots of money, my dear Friend. As I am sure you can guess, Gael was not one to believe such nonsense.
As the group approached closer to the funeral vessel, they realized there were several figures standing near the open back hatch.
Hala’s gasp echoed through the room as she recognized who it was. All color drained from Ruha’s face, turning it a very, very pale purple as she too recognized who it was standing there. The Protectors straightened up as well, as they tried to maintain a defensive posture while also not dropping the heavy load they carried. Only Tanja seemed unsurprised by the visitors.
“Lord Roghet the III of the Occasusans, Father Jhaomson of the Avatoyians, Urak, he of many titles, your presence is welcome, but may I respectfully remind you that this is a time of mourning, any matters of state can be discussed in the morning.” Tanja spoke while giving a deep bow, her voice was confident and uncompromising.
“Lord Roghet, Father Jhaomson, these are Gael’s nieces, Ruha and Hala.”
Tanja wisely left off the sisters’ last name in her introduction, as she did not want to bring unnecessary attention at the moment to who Ruha and Hala’s parents were. She only hoped Urak would hold his tongue as well.
“We come only to give respect to a friend. Though I am sure you understand that discretion is requested regarding our presence here.” Father Jhaomson who was only slightly taller than Hala, spoke quickly in his usual slightly nervous voice tone.
Urak rolled his eyes and sneered at them all.
“Your friend? He was your slave!” Hala said sharply, incensed that these last few moments with her uncle had been interrupted.
Urak smiled now as he enjoyed conflict of any kind.
Lord Roghet straightened up to his full height and spoke now as he eyed Hala with as intimidating as a look as he could muster all while he held out his hand to Ruha, “A slave yes but he was a good slave. A slave as you are, a point I recommend you not forget. I know you grieve so I’ll forgive your sister her disrespect.”
Ruha spit.
She hit the tip of one of Lord Roghet’s black boots, which scuffed the freshly polished material. “We didn’t ask your forgiveness, nor do we need it.”
The room grew tensely silent. Even Tanja, normally known for her ability to speak eloquently in even the most difficult situations stood quietly, mouth agape. For as I am sure you know my dear Friend, to spit in the way that Ruha did is the biggest insult you can give someone. Wars had been fought over less.
Urak began to laugh, that cruelly hypnotic laugh of his that sent a shooting pain up the spines of everyone in the room. “You two, I like. How unfortunate you turned down my offer. But, oh well, ashes to ashes, dust to dust as they say. Lord Roghet and Father Jhaomson, say your piece so we can leave. It always smells like wet dog when their kind is around. How nice that that is not something we’ll have to worry about for much longer.”
Urak’s words seem to give the Father Jhaomson and Lord Roghet a renewed sense of confidence and control of the situation.
“Yes, of course, Urak, we do have other, more important and urgent matters to attend to.” Father Jhaomson replied before he and Lord Roghet approached Gael’s casket.
Lord Roghet knelt in front of the casket while Father Jhaomson stood behind it, his arms stretched towards the ceiling. In their respective positions, they were almost the same height now. They both began to speak, almost in unison. “Gael, you were as good in life as one like you could be. In death, your bonds are lifted, your shackles loosed, may you someday join us again as servant to the Houses of the Dark Creation, the true path of those who walk with Elo.”
Father Jhaomson and Lord Roghet stood and walked around to where Tanja and the sisters were standing. Both had tears coming from the corners of their eyes that they made no attempt to hide. Hala still glared angrily at them but Ruha seemed unsure. Something was off.
It was almost as if the two men were genuinely sad at the death of their uncle. Despite his lower status, she believed they were not lying when they called him friend. Ruha felt a tinge of empathy for them for in that moment as for the first time in her life she was able to see beyond the image of the cruel and intimidating rulers Lord Roghet and Father Jhaomson were often portrayed as. She saw them sincerely grieving just as she had grieved often over the last three days.
She would not forgive their treatment of her people, but she could clearly see Lord Roghet and Father Jhaomson for what they were; formerly innocent children to whom sometime, somewhere, something had happened to them with likely no decision of their own that had set them on the trajectory to which they now found themselves bound.
Ruha stepped forward and spoke, “Thank you for coming, I’m sorry for my outburst earlier. Go now in the ways of Elo.” As she spoke, Ruha’s aura, for the briefest moment, seemed to grow bigger, until for a split second it completely encompassed Lord Roghet and Father Jhaomson and brought the slightest tinge of color to both their tear stained faces.
Urak could sense the shift in Ruha’s thinking as it made him momentarily feel weak. Knowing exactly where such thoughts could lead a person, he knew he could not let those thoughts grow. Doing the only thing he could think of in the moment, he reached out with a clawed finger and ran it down the side of Gael’s casket, where he made such an awful sound that it made them all shudder and tense their bodies.
Anger quickly returned to Ruha’s face as her eyes came to rest on the deep scratch that now marred her Uncle’s casket. Hala took a step towards Urak, her hand balled in a fist.
Tanja put her hand on Hala’s shoulder, firmly holding her back as she addressed the funeral crashers. “I think it is time you all went. Let us finish this in peace.”
Not long after, Ruha and Hala returned home. They were physically depleted and mentally exhausted. The entire day from the earliest hours of the artificial dawn to now had been spent in mourning their Uncle Gael and laying him to rest. They had given all of themselves today and wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed and get a few hours sleep before they had to be up again to resume their duties at the ship’s surface.
As the door shut silently behind them, they looked around the small space that now seemed so empty without the presence of their uncle. The alcove leading to his room which previously had always been well-lit now stood dark, another reminder of Gael’s absence. Something would need to be done with Gael’s room, but the sisters were not yet ready to even begin considering what that may be.
Ruha and Hala changed from their mourning clothes, gray formal dresses with embedded sequins of all colors that stayed hidden when the wearer was standing still but displayed a brilliant show of color when the wearer moved. The dress signified the mourning of the end of life and the celebration of life to come that the Abodans believed in so strongly. Within moments of laying down to bed, the sisters were fast asleep and dreaming deeply.
18. they speak
Ruha and Hala stood reverently as they listened to the whisper of the wind that rushed around them. Above them in the dark night sky, brilliant lights whose colors ranged the spectrum from vibrant purple to darkest red danced from dusk to dawn.
The sisters were in a new place tonight. It was different place from the beautiful meadow they usually visited to spend time with their parents. Ruha and Hala were standing in a deep valley with distant peaks to the north and lands unknown to the south. They did not have the words to adequately describe the ethereal atmosphere around them, my dear Friend, but they both sensed the deep sacredness of where they were.
High above Ruha and Hala, a moon rested in the night sky much like The Akedia rested above the watery planet it orbited. But unlike their ship, this moon somehow reflected light down to the planet. It was not as much light as during the day but it was enough light for the sisters to see around them with ease.
Ruha and Hala could have stayed standing there for eternity absorbing the serenity of this most ancient place but a sound behind them like a snap of a twig interrupted the silence. As one, they both whirled around to see the source of the noise, gasping as their minds quickly processed the information their eyes gave them.
“It’s you!” Hala said in a hushed whisper full of both fear and curiosity.
The figure was sitting a few feet from the sisters, separated from them by a small, somehow previously unnoticed campfire that quietly hissed and snapped. The campfire cast little light on the sitting figure but the luminescent darkness of its skin and the fiery gaze emitting from its eyes was unmistakable. It was the figure Hala had seen outside the Archives window, the figure the girls had seen at the door of their home and the figure who the Lord Roghet and Father Jhaomson had seen in their nightmares.
“Who are you? What are you?” Ruha asked insistently as she took a defensive stance as is often wise when meeting a potentially shady character, my dear Friend.
“Come, sit. You have nothing to fear from me.” The figure answered gently, motioning to the logs surrounding the fire even as it ignored Ruha’s questions for the moment.
“We have everything to fear from one who does not say who and what they are.” Ruha replied, tensing her body as she had not yet decided if fight or flight would be the better option.
“It’s okay, Ruha, I think it’s okay to sit. I sense that we can trust…” Hala’s words drifted off as she did not want to call the figure an it but did not know what, if any, gender it possessed.
The figure smiled, sensing Hala’s hesitation. “I am who I am which means you don’t have the pronouns to properly describe who I am, so you may use they. And yes, I am one who can be trusted.”
The sisters sat down. Hala sat closer to the figure while Ruha sat on the far opposite side of the fire as she was still unsure if they could be trusted or not.
They all sat together around the fire in silence. They listened as the fire continued to hiss and pop, and they watched each other through the flickering flames.
After minutes that seemed to stretch for hours, Ruha finally broke the silence, her voice reflecting more curiosity than apprehension this time. “Again, I must ask, who are you?”
“We shall get to that, my Child, but first, let us eat.” The figure nodded to the fourth log surrounding the fire. The fourth log had previously sat empty, but on it now rested food and drink.
Ruha and Hala were always hungry and were not ones to turn down the gift of food. They quickly prepared the fluffy white cubes by cooking them over the fire’s flames. Even in the seriousness of the this sacred space, the sisters could not help giggling when the cubes caught fire. They hurried to blow out the marshmallow-y cubes before Ruha placed them on a sweet cracker. Hala placed a small ribbon of chocolate on top and covered it all with another one of the hard, sweet crackers.
The sisters smiled and expressed thanks as they ate the now gooey mess and washed it down with mugs of slightly chilled hot chocolate. It was a most treasured meal, one which they had not had since they were small children.
As they ate, the figure began to speak, “Who am I and what am I? Such perceptive questions which have no easy answers. I am who I am which is what I am, but that is confusing. You know me best as Ru-ach.”
The girl’s eyes went wide. When they were young, they had heard of Ru-ach. Their parents had told them stories of Ru-ach. Where Elo ruled above, and the Land rested dormant deep below, Ru-ach was believed to exist in the middle ground, somehow living in the realm of the Abodans, Occusans and the Avatoyians. But, Ru-ach had not been seen since the Dark Night fell and the Dark Creation rose.
Some would say my dear Friend that Ru-ach had never existed in the first place, that they were just a figment of an uncivilized culture’s imagination. Others, like the Occasusans, would say that even if they did exist, Ru-ach was unimportant, a sort of third wheel on the two-wheeled bike made up of Elo and the Land. It is little wonder that Ru-ach was deemphasized and eventually forgotten by most.
Urak, in one of the many ways in which he sowed discord and chaos, had done his job especially well with Ru-ach.
“Where have you been?” Hala asked incredulously, curiously and accusingly all at the same time.
“I have been here and there but mostly here, waiting and watching.”
Ruha was quickly growing tired of the riddles. With impatience and rising anger in her voice, she spoke next, “If you’re Ru-ach, why haven’t you helped? Why did you sit and watch our people suffer generation after generation? Why did you sit and ignore our cries for help? Why did you sit and watch our parents die?”
Ruha’s final question hung tensely in the air as angry tears cut a stream down her violet cheeks. Even Hala thought that perhaps this time, Ruha had spoken out of turn.
Ru-ach listened quietly to Ruha’s increasingly condemning questions, pausing to give the proper weight to what was asked to them.
They took a deep breath and replied.
“You are right. But, then, you are wrong, my Child. You remind me of another, long ago in another world who also questioned me in a similar vein. He was also right but also wrong.
The answers you seek are not the answers I will give, or at least not in the form you desire.
You understand more than most but there are still limits to your understanding.
But, let me ask you a question, my Children, to what end do you believe? If you believe for the glory of deliverance or to avoid further enslavement, where does that belief rest when those are both taken away?”
Ruha sat as anger burned through her at the implied accusation that the desires of her belief were somehow misplaced. Hala sat quietly beside them both, suddenly feeling the youngness of her age as she sat witness to this exchange of cosmic proportions that had just occurred in the hushed setting of the moonlit valley.
But, where Ruha felt anger at Ru-ach’s response, Hala felt contented. Still in the later years of childhood, she had not yet had to wrestle with the doubts of belief that Ruha was not yet ready to admit to herself that she had.
Ru-ach spoke again.
“I sense your anger and your sorrow, Ruha. And the doubts you do not yet allow yourself to name. They are not misplaced. You need not fear as none will prevent you from continuing the path that has been set forth for you. Remember, you are beloved. And you too, Hala, are beloved.”
They paused briefly as Ru-ach reached out their arms to embrace the sisters before continuing.
“To find the chest in which the repairs of the world exist, you need only to go back to the Archives. Enter not through the Shepherd’s Gate but through the original entrance, go not solely as Abodans but as the beloved children of Elo whose promises extend to all.”
“You’re not serious are you?” Hala was unconvinced, “I can’t imagine no one has tried that before. And besides, the main entrance to the Archives is the most heavily guarded spot on The Akedia. Both Occasusans and Avatoyians have full squadrons of Ordinary Men stationed there.”
“Go to your leaders and tell them what you must do.” Ru-ach replied.
Ruha scoffed, “They’ll laugh us out of the room. I cannot decide if you are sending us to our shame or to our deaths, Ru-ach. Likely both!”
Ru-ach sighed deeply before they replied, “Hala. Ruha. You are wise to question. You are wise to doubt. I welcome your questions and doubts as they are signs of true becoming.”
“And what are we becoming?” The sisters replied almost in unison.
With a hint of joy in their voice, Ru-ach spoke one last time, “You are becoming who you are, unmasked and unrestrained from the deceptions of the Dark Creation, fully free to be. Now, I know my words confuse but heed them and all will be well.”
As Ru-ach’s words faded, silence again descended on the valley. Ruha and Hala did not understand completely what they had been told, but they sensed that this sacred moment was soon to end. They chose to enjoy stillness as the night sky slowly turned gray. Dawn was approaching and their slumber would soon end.
19. meetings and such
“We know where the chest and the manuscript can be found!” Ruha declared. Her voice was confident yet quiet. But, she was still heard in every corner of the cavernous space as a hush fell over the smallish as usual crowd that had assembled on the Winnowing Floor for the second of the month’s two council meetings. “Come with me now to the Archives and I’ll show you.”
After a heated and relatively short discussion the morning before that was thoroughly lacking in foresight but heavy in good intentions, Ruha and Hala had decided they would address the Abodan elders at the next council meeting. The council meetings were held publicly and a very strict agenda was published a week in advance. All items to be discussed were heavily vetted and given an order of appearance and discussion time limit from which the elders would absolutely not stray. Meetings were rarely over an hour and that was all because of the pride put into the creation of a good agenda. Some would say that adherence to the agenda was more important than the content of the agenda, my dear Friend.
The most harrowing part of the council meetings were the few minutes that were set aside for public comments. During public comments, any Abodan citizen, young or old, always had the opportunity to speak their mind for three whole minutes. Only rarely did anyone speak up though as despite the sign that was put up that said there would be no repercussions for comments made, there most certainly were plenty of repercussions for comments spoken.
The council meetings themselves were generally considered a farce as the council had no real authority other than that that was given to them by the Occas and Avats. No, my dear Friend, the real work of the Abodan elders was done in secret council meetings. Yes, imagine it: secret council meetings with no preset agenda! These meetings would sometimes last well into the night and were always free of listening ears who were eager to run back to their masters above as was the case in the public council meetings. Most agreed meeting in secret was not any way to maintain a transparent council but then again, having the elders continually convicted of treason against the Houses was not a good way to maintain a council of elders.
“Bring her up here.” Tanja, spoke gently as the crowd quickly parted. Once again Ruha and her sister Hala were standing in the middle of the Winnowing Floor with several feet of open space on all sides of them. They smiled at each other out of the side of their mouths as they both momentarily thought of their uncle.
Several strong men quickly surrounded Ruha and Hala. Excessive displays of force were not only found in the Houses of the Occasusans and the Avatoyians, my dear Friend. The gaggle of Protectors escorted them to the front of the hall where the Elders sat behind a long dais.
“Don’t you dare speak another word, child.” The elder Odo spoke harshly as he leaned over the dais and glared at the girls through gray tinted eyes. “Your time is up. Return to your home.”
Ruha took a deep breath and repeated herself. “We know where the chest and the manuscript can be found.”
“And, where, may I ask can it be found?” Tanja’s voice stopped Odo from losing his in anger.
“It’s in the archives.” Ruha responded, as she repeated the ancient clue the forsaken Elders had left.
Angry murmuring broke out through the crowd and some of the elders themselves protested. “How insolent! Take them away! They’re wasting our time.” But there was also a slight undertone of relief as crisis seemed to have been averted. It was unlikely Lord Roghet or Father Jhaomson would be notified of a young girl taking up council time to discuss fairy tales.
Tanja gave a look to the elders alongside her and the ever dwindling crowd. It was a look that quickly silenced them all. With slight laugh in her voice, she replied to Ruha.
“Ah, how could I forget, you are the niece of Gael. His wit obviously lives on in you. May he rest well, waiting peacefully for the Everlasting Dawn.”
She stepped down from her seat on the council and embraced Ruha and Hala briefly while she whispered discretely in Ruha’s ear, “We will come by your quarters this evening.”
Upon returning to the dais, she gave a slight nod to Odo.
“I move we adjourn.”
Brone seconded as jumping on the bandwagon was a unique skill of his.
“We are adjourned.” Tanja spoke one last time before all the of the elders quickly exited.
Ruha and Hala were now almost all alone in the stadium-like room and they were very confused at what had just happened. The sisters gave each other a look of wondering and then hurried back to their home. They had only just shut the door of their apartment behind them when someone knocked sharply on it.
Tanja and the rest of the elders did not wait to be invited in when Hala opened the door. For the second time in a week the living room of the girls home was overcrowded with persons who for the most part, would not previously dared spend even a minute in such sparse accommodations.
Tanja spoke first, “Now, my child, we have serious matters to discuss and little time to discuss them as we all know the Houses of the Occasus and the Avatoyia could strike at any time and we must be prepared. So, I’ll ask you again. Where exactly is the chest and the manuscript?”
Hala spoke this time. “They really are in the Archives, they’ve been there the entire time. We have just been looking in the wrong way.”
“Nonsense, the Archives have been extensively searched.” The indignant, angry voice of Kasjan, a former searcher himself cut Hala’s explanation short.
Hala paused, anger flared briefly in her eyes before she reminded herself that patience should be given to those who do not yet understand. Hala took a deep breath and then continued.
“The chest and the manuscript are in the Archives, but we have been looking for them in the wrong way.” Kasjan continued to glare at her as she went on to explain what Ruha and Hala had experienced in their dreams on the night their uncle was put to rest.
Odo scoffed as Hala finished speaking. “So, you don’t actually know where the chest and the manuscript are? You just neglected your duties as searchers, fell asleep and now in your grief you have made up some wild story about why everyone that came before you was wrong?”
It was Ruha’s turn to speak. “Those who came before us were not wrong, our efforts are the fruit of a tree planted several generations ago. We would not have seen what we saw if not for the efforts of those who came before us.”
“I understand what you feel like you experienced. I am even willing to believe that your experience was true for you. But, my child, what are you asking us to do about what you experienced?” Tanja’s voice was a mix of understanding and not knowing. She wanted to believe the sisters but they were not giving her much to sell to the elders and she was not sure how much of it she even believed herself. Gael was a cherished friend but he was also prone to eccentricity and the more than occasional tall tale. It would not be a surprise if the sisters had learned these traits as well.
“We need to go back to the Archives but the way is blocked. It is too heavily guarded. It would be impossible through the normal way as the Sheep’s Gate was destroyed on the night of our uncle’s death. We need the council to provide a distraction, so we can come in through the main gate.”
Odo’s exasperated response came next. “And why, pray tell, are we delegating policy decisions to children? Are we so far gone from the path to Elo?”
“Silence, Odo,” Tanja replied sharply. “My children, I appreciate your efforts as searchers. You have been devout and reflect well the ways of your parents who so selflessly gave themselves to protecting our ways.” Odo, effectively cowed at the mention of the girls’ parents, trained his eyes on the well worn floor beneath his feet as Tanja continued.
“We must consider the needs of all against the needs of a few. Your plea is compelling, it speaks to the inner light within me, but it is risky to stretch ourselves so thin. We must concentrate our power to resist here in our area where we know best how to keep ourselves safe.”
Ruha felt her confidence waning, but she persisted. “We only need a few, a remnant of us all. On the promises of Elo, I swear to you this is the path that will lead us to the freedom we all so desperately desire.”
There was a collective gasp in the room, most loudly from Brone. For to swear an oath on the promises of Elo was very serious indeed. There were severe consequences for not living up to that sort of promise.
Tanja paused for a long moment as she looked over the two sisters. Their appearance was disheveled. Hala’s hair was a tangled mess, but they stood confidently with passion that could only come from the sincere faith in what they believed. Alas, the question though was if that sincerity was well-placed?
“I know you understand the seriousness of the oath you have just spoken. I will not belittle your youthful judgment, but I cannot in good conscious allow your oath to be accepted so easily. The desire of my heart, my Children, Ruha and Hala is to say no, to reject what you say. It is too dangerous, and you are too young. But you have proven yourselves faithful and devout, we must at least consider the promises you make. I will allow the elders to vote and that vote will be binding for us but also to you as well. Do you accept these terms?”
Ruha and Hala nodded solemnly as they looked from elder to elder, trying to gage where they may vote.
Tanja spoke again. “You will have your answer in the morning.”
20. a decision is made
“Brone, I’m not certain if you’re more a traitor or a coward for all your insistence on staying the course and not upsetting our Avatoyian and Occasusan rulers.”
Kasjan’s angry voice rumbled through the room. It was a serious accusation but Tanja only rolled her eyes. Kasjan accusing Brone of cowardice was hardly out of the ordinary. The only surprise was that it had taken longer than usual for him to get there as the council’s conversation to decide a course of action had long since devolved into heated accusations and personal attacks that had been rehashed several times over.
The council was faced with two decisions to make, one very important and one not so much. But, in typical fashion when it comes to important decisions being decided by the wrong group of people, most of the conversation was focused on the not as important decision.
“We must strike first. We cannot sit and wait for the Avats and Occas to come cull us like a herd of domesticated beasts! Surprise is the only advantage we have over them. Father Jhaomson and Lord Roghet are set to make an announcement in the next few days.
They’ll be broadcasting from the main com room. There will be no better time to make a focused assault on their leadership and the strategic targets that I outlined in the papers before you.”
Odo picked up the papers to which Kasjan was referring. He skimmed it again before speaking.
“I agree with Kasjan. A preemptive strike makes the most sense. It gives us the highest possible chance of success.”
With Odo aligning himself with Kasjan, the tenor of the room shifted as the other elders brought themselves in line behind the two most decisive elders. Kasjan, for his part, was outwardly pleased at how quickly the other elders fell in step once Odo made his proclamation. Group think is a wonderful tool to get one’s way is it not, my dear Friend?
The only two hold outs were Brone and Tanja. Though Brone truly was not the real traitor of the group, he was truly a coward. He held out not for some noble purpose but rather because he had not yet been able to decide which option gave him the highest chance of self-preservation. He would get there eventually though. To hear it from him later, he was in support of the first strike option from the very beginning.
“What of the cost of life?” Tanja’s question hung in the air as Kasjan and the other elders tried there best to avoid it. After several moments of heavy silence, Kasjan finally responded.
“Yes, of course, there will be collateral damage with any of the options we have discussed, even the option of non-action.”
“By, collateral damage you mean civilian deaths, correct? Non-combatants such as children or the infirm? It does nothing to dress it up in fancy speech, Kasjan.”
Kasjan glared at Tanja. Why must she always do this, he thought to himself. War is hell even without accounting for the costs outside of battle. He was a warrior though, in the mold of Rueben the Humbled. He could not be expected to dwell for long on what all may be lost when the one thing they most desired, their freedom, may be attained.
But, he could not deny the heaviness of what he was asking Tanja to support. For that he appreciated her resistance. Her pointed questioning of his best laid plans had always been a hallmark of their marriage.
Kasjan leaned back in his chair while he rubbed the wrinkles that had formed on his maroon-tinged head. He sighed heavily before he replied.
“Yes, Ta,’’ His voice was more somber this time as he used the more personal form of Tanja’s name, a form he rarely used in public settings.
“There is an almost certain possibility that lives will be lost, combatants and non-combatants. Men, women, children, the infirm and everyone in between. There is no way in which that can be avoided.
Even inaction will lead to lives lost as the report heard by Gael’s niece has been confirmed sevenfold. They are going to purge us from the ghetto they have created for us.”
“Yes, I have seen the reports too, Kas.” It was now Tanja’s turn to soften her tone. “And you believe this first strike option gives us the best chance of having the least of both of those lives lost?”
Again, Tanja’s question hung in the air but only because the answer was already clear. Tanja had actually been in agreement with Kasjan from the very beginning but she felt war was not a decision to be made in the throes of bravado and bluster.
After a moment, Tanja continued. “Then we are in agreement. Now, speaking of Gael’s niece, what of the request they have made?”
The tension in the room notably lightened at the mention of the sisters.
Tanja aside, no one was in the mood to seriously entertain Ruha and Hala’s request. Odo suggested sending two junior Protectors with the girls with strict orders to retreat at the first sight of the Ordinary Men that were always stationed at the main entrance to the Archives. Doing what he does best, Brone quickly seconded the motion and all voted in favor.
In all less than three minutes was spent on the most important decision any of them would ever make in their entire lives. Typical, wouldn’t you say, my dear Friend?
The elders and their most trusted leaders within the ranks of the Protectors assembled early in the morning in Odo’s quarters. The room was sizable by Abodan standards but still slightly too small for everyone who attempted to crowd in. The air was filled with hushed murmuring and stifled yawns as most of the elders looked half asleep. Their discussions had only ended a few hours before and besides being tired, they were weary from the weight of the decisions they had had to make.
Tanja stood and approached the lectern that had been hastily set up at the front of the room.
She held her hand up for silence before she began to sing quietly the Song of the Abodans.
The others quickly joined in, their voices traveled through the pipes of the ships upwards and onwards until their song filled the entirety of The Akedia and gently woke the still sleeping Occasusans and Avatoyians from their night’s slumber. Even the Dark Night shimmered at the gentle melody as the light held captive behind it tried to break through. As always though, the curtain of darkness was too strong and the light was kept at bay.
Tanja paused briefly when the song ended, allowing the last notes to come to the end of their journey in the house of Elo.
“With great solemnity, we have decided the course of action which our people will take. From a credible source, a source that has subsequently been independently collaborated several times over, we have come to learn that the Occasusans and Avatoyians seek to destroy all but a small remnant of us.”
There were slight gasps in the assembled crowd as Tanja’s words sunk in. Most of those present had had some inkling that the Houses were up to no good but to hear it confirmed was another thing in and of itself, my dear Friend.
“We are then left with no choice but to strike first, both to prevent our own destruction and to regain our rightful place as the people that are first-of-all peoples. Slaves no more will we be.”
“Kasjan will lead our operation. Commanders, you will find an outline of our planned assault in your briefing. Please commit it to memory and then destroy it. I cannot stress enough the delicacy of this operation and the absolute need for secrecy.
If the Occas or Avats were to at all catch wind of our intentions, it goes without saying what will be the fate not only of ourselves but all those we all hold dear.”
As the weight of Tanja’s words settled, a heavy silence descended across the room. For a few moments at least, until it was interrupted by Hala’s slightly impatient voice.
“And what of our request?”
With a slightly bemused look on her face, Tanja searched the room for the source of the voice though she already knew to whom it likely belonged. After a moment, she spotted a visibly annoyed Ruha who was in the process of attempting to shush her sister.
“Be patient, they will get to us, Hala!” Ruha spoke in a whisper that due to the silence in the room was heard by everyone. Odo rolled his eyes and Kasjan glared as he wondered when the girls had snuck into the room and how much they had heard.
“It has been granted in part. We will not provide a distraction but we will provide Protectors. You will be granted two Protectors to attempt entry to the Archives through the main gate. May you go with the blessing of Elo and the luck of the one who is in her stead.”
Tanja stopped there as she omitted that crucial detail that the Protectors would be instructed to return the sisters to the Abodan settlement at the first sign of danger. With any luck, it would be a short excursion.
21. waiting and planning
It had been a tense week in the Abodan settlement. In addition to their normal duties serving the Avatoyians and the Occassusans, the Abodans were quietly preparing for war. The Abodans directly involved in the first strike plans had to be on high alert at all times due to not knowing when Father Jhaomson and Lord Roghet were going to announce the dreadful and devious decisions that Hala had heard. Every day that passed made it more likely that that was going to be the day. But then the day passed and the waiting began all over again.
Ruha and Hala were busy making their own plans on how they were going to get past the contingent of Ordinary Men that always stood guard outside the only remaining entrance to the Archives.
“I say we send our Protectors ahead of us and let them take out as many guards as they can while we run past. Once we’re in, we’ll slam the doors shut behind us and lock them so no one can follow us.” Hala preferred the direct approach.
Of course, her sister favored a subtler approach. “I can sew uniforms for our Protectors and they can impersonate Ordinary Men. If we time it right, they can pretend to be part of the next shift of guards and then come up with an excuse to send away the new shift. They can let us into the Archives before the ruse is discovered.”
“That’s not going to work at all.”
Hala was blunt but not wrong in her assessment of Ruha’s plan.
“Neither is your plan!”
And so it had gone ever since the sisters found out that they were going to be given the opportunity for one last search of the Archives. They both had come up with a hundred plans of their own and rejected a hundred plans that were not their own. The only certainty it appeared was that compromise was not going to be a part of the plan, my dear Friend.
“I have received word that Father Jhaomson and Lord Roghet are meeting tonight. Every indication is that they will be announcing their plan to the rest of the Avatoyians and Occassusans. There will not be a better opportunity to strike.” Though Kasjan’s voice was somber, the old warrior’s face could not hide a tinge of excitement at the prospect of a victory being won in only a few hours from now.
Tanja paused long enough for the gravitas of the situation to sink for everyone in before she replied.
“Then, let it be.”
At those words from Tanja, a variety of complex plans that I have little desire to detail were set into motion, my dear Friend. No different from any other beginning to war, orders were given, goodbyes were said, and soldiers and weapons were quietly moved into place. Those who were not directly involved in the plans were moved to the Winnowing Floor where they would be safest if the strike did not go as hoped.
There was a nervous energy building throughout the ship that to a degree that even the Avatoyians and Occassusans were able to sense. It was a miracle that none of them had figured it out, my dear Friend. But again, plans and preparations for war are of little interest here. If that’s the story you want to hear, there are thousands of other stories that you will find much more to your taste. Rather, what is actually important were the preparations being made by Ruha and Hala.
In an act of what Kasjan called foolishness and others later called divine intervention, Tanja sent a courier with two Protectors to inform the sisters that they had to leave now if they wanted to do their search.
“But we’re not ready! We don’t even have a plan. And are you two even Protectors? You’re younger than me, Dexx!”
Ruha was having difficulty hiding the exasperation that had been building in her ever since Dexx had informed her a few minutes prior that he was one of the Protectors assigned to escort her to the archives if the sisters chose to go.
Dexx simply shrugged his shoulders. He was only following orders. And he was already stressed about how he was going to explain to the sisters that their expedition to the Archives would likely be ending shortly after it began. Ruha was not going to be happy with him at all.
“It looks like we’re going with my plan then. A direct assault! ” Hala smiled triumphantly while Ruha stared a dagger through her and whispered hotly that the plan was bound to fail.
“Perhaps we could figure it out when we get there?” Dexx was not always known to be wise but in this moment he was. His words defused the tension between the two sisters enough that they were able to prepare themselves for the search that was awaiting them.
Moments later the two Protectors and the two sisters were making their way through the halls of the settlement where they joined the crush of Abodans making their way to the Winnowing Floor for what had been announced as "game and activities" for the children.
But as the quartet approached the space outside the doors to the Winnowing Floor, they quietly slipped off to the bank of elevators that were sitting empty and unused. For one of the few times in recent memory, the overnight shift of Abodans had simply declined to show up for their evening duties. Father Jhaomson and Lord Roghet would have been furious had they not been so preoccupied with making their own preparations. Instead, the absences were noted by Urak and quickly dismissed to the deal-with-later pile.
In another moment of wisdom, Dexx had suggested the group take the elevator directly to the Archive entrance. Ruha thought it seemed a little bold but not having any time to think of another plan or even an objection, she quickly agreed. Dexx breathed a sigh of relief as he knew that as soon as the elevator doors opened they would see the squadron of Ordinary Men and their mission would be over.
They all waited with growing impatience as the elevator ascended to its destination. It was going at its normal speed but of course you know my dear Friend how slow time feels like its going when the anticipation of what’s to come is rising. The elevator finally stopped and the doors slowly opened.
“What in the name of Elo?!”
There was an audible exclamation from Dexx as he stood nearest the elevator controls with his finger frozen less than inch from pushing the button to close the doors again. There was literally nothing to see outside the doors of the elevator. The guards were not there. No one was there, my dear Friend! The entrance to the Archives was completely empty and unguarded.
Ruha and Hala quickly exited before either of the Protectors were able to voice even a short word of caution that this may be a trap. They were at the entrance to the Archives before Dexx regained his senses and took a step after the sisters. Unfortunately, the other Protector was even slower to react than Dexx. The elevator doors closed before he was able to react and the quartet became a trio.
Dexx fully intended to cross the threshold of the Archives with the sisters but a sharp word from Hala stopped him.“It can only be us that enter. I’m sorry Dexx but we’re the searchers and we must go on alone as we have been called to do. You watch out and give us a warning if the Ordinary Men return.”
With that, Ruha and Hala put a hand each on the ornate handles that adorned the massively heavy double doors that made up the main entrance of the Archives. The doors had not been opened in over three centuries. The last time they were opened, it had taken a team of Ordinary Men all pulling a chain that had been attached to the doors’ handles. They had pulled with all their might and they only managed to pry the doors open a few inches.
But of course, the sisters were not Ordinary Men. With bowed heads and a whispered verse from The Way of the Path, the sisters pulled the doors open with ease. With a smile to Dexx from Ruha and wink from Hala, the sisters slipped quietly into the Archives. They had barely entered before the doors swung shut behind them with a loud thud that Dexx was convinced was heard throughout the ship.
“Hurry, Ruha. Hurry, Hala.”
Dexx whispered his own appeal to Elo. He believed deeper than most Abodans that their lives depended more on the sisters search than the plans made by the elder council. He was a wise one, my dear Friend, he was.
22. a moment waited for
Ruha and Hala paused a few steps from the doors through which they had entered a moment before. They had never entered the Archives through the main entrance. No Abodan had entered the Archives this way since it had been built. It was a fact not lost on the sisters and they were both momentarily overwhelmed by the moment.
Ruha spoke in a hushed tone, in order to give reverence to all those who had come before them and all who had given everything for them. Of course, two persons in particular came to Ruha’s mind, my dear Friend.
“Do you remember our parents still, Hala? You were so young, not even a toddler when they were taken by the Ordinary Men and handed over to Urak and his Violence Makers.”
“My only clear memories are from our times together in our dreams,” Hala stopped for a moment before she continued. “I often feel a vague sense of them though. Mother’s soothing voice and father’s gentle laugh.”
Ruha allowed a small smile to cross her face as she too remembered those qualities of their parents.
“I can remember our father rocking you to sleep and letting you nap on him for hours. Our mother was such a beautiful soul. She watched over you all through the night to make sure you were safe.
“I miss them so much, Hala. But my memories of them have started to fade. Most days I cannot even remember the look of their faces. It makes me so angry and sad and afraid. Ru-ach was right. Elo’s promise of restoration drives me more than my love for Elo.
I fear my insincere faith in the Way of the Path will be the ruin of us all, but even worse, part of me doesn’t want to find the book.
I want it to always be out there as something I can put my hopes in that if I just believe enough and look hard enough I’ll be able to find it and bring them back. Because the alternative is accepting that our parents will never be with us again in this world and I can’t accept that…I won’t accept that. How could Elo be so cruel...”
Ruha’s voice trailed off as Hala embraced her with a hug whose ferocity she was well known for. No words were exchanged, my dear Friend, but none were really needed were they?
In those moments of deepest vulnerability, when we often rush to say the right thing or fill the silence with our own discomfort, Hala was always wisest in knowing how to respond. She knew intuitively that more than any perfect set of words; accepting, not judging, loving unconditionally was what Ruha needed in that moment.
“You’re a good sister, Hala.”
Ruha had spoken in a whisper but her voice seemed to echo throughout the cavernous space around them. And with each echo, Ruha’s words and the love beneath them grew more and more powerful while they spread further and further throughout the Archives.
Within seconds, the sisters’ love for each other had completely filled the Archives and was threatening to knock down the very doors from which Ruha and Hala had entered. Somewhere, or perhaps everywhere my dear Friend, Ru-ach themselves enjoyed a joyful shout.
Unfortunately, the doors had been well built and though they creaked and groaned, they were able to mostly contain the light within the Archives. Dexx would later report that there had been a rainbow of light peeking out from the tiniest crack in the threshold of the main Archive doors. He had never in his life before seen such an intense display of light and color.
The darkness that usually shrouded all corners of the Arkedia and the world outside tried its best to extinguish the light but it was helpless to do so until the sisters came out from the Archives moments after the light appeared.
“We have it!”
Hala’s excited whisper knocked Dexx from the trance that the light had put him in.
“You have it? Wait, what?! You have “it”?! The covenant book?!” Dexx responded in an almost yell.
“Shhh! Lower your voice, please. We don’t need the Ordinary Men coming now, Dexx!” Ruha tried her best to admonish Dexx to quiet his voice but her own voice was barely below a yell as she was struggling herself to control her excitement.
“What happened? How did you find it? And what was that light?!” Dexx managed to keep his voice to only slightly louder than normal, an attempt that was not lost on Ruha.
“We don’t really know, Dexx.” For once, Hala was the one with the quietest voice. “We had only walked a few feet into the Archives when we were suddenly overwhelmed by what it all meant. The sacrifices of so many, so many generations lost, so much hopelessness, so much suffering, it weighed on us so much we couldn’t take another step forward.”
“Then there was a flash of light so bright that we both had no choice but to close our eyes. The light kept getting brighter and more intense and we both were afraid we would become blinded even our eyes shut tight!”
“As we attempted to make our way out of the Archives, we both tripped over something that was laying on the floor…”
“But whatever it was, it wasn’t there when we entered the Archives. We would have seen it!” Ruha excitedly interrupted Hala. “I opened my eyes for only a second but I saw it laying there in front of us and I knew immediately that it was The Way of the Path!”
Ruha caught her breath before continuing on, “It looked exactly how we had been told it would. Well maybe not exactly, I guess it was a slightly bulkier than I expected…And the pages were more tattered and the script is almost illegible…and the binding looks like it could fall apart at any second…
But I can feel the energy and the power that the words within it posses, its undoubtedly what we have been looking for, Dexx! Here you hold it, you’ll see what I mean!”
Ruha didn’t give Dexx a chance to consider her request before she shoved the book into his arms. He immediately understood what Ruha had meant when she had described her initial reaction to the book’s appearance. It was ancient and seemed like it could fall apart at any moment. But the binding was undeniably from a tree that could only be found in Elo’s lands. And the script was clearly in the original language that all of the Abodans, Occususans, and Avatoyians had once shared. And finally the power and energy contained within the pages of the The Way of the Path was undoubtedly present. To Dexx, it felt like the document itself was alive!
Dexx felt humbled to be standing there holding this manuscript that the greatest Abodans had once held. They had taken the words down directly from Elo herself and then used those words to take their people to such great heights. Great heights from which their people had eventually fallen and splintered into the three peoples they were now, my dear Friend.
“What do we do now? How do we, um, use the book?” For once, it was Dexx asking the important questions.
It was a long moment of silence before Ruha finally had answer to either of Dexx’s question.
“We have to show them that we have it!”
“Show who?” It was Hala’s turn to question now.
Ruha replied with a slightly exasperated tone that Dexx and Hala weren’t keeping up with her.
“Everyone! The Elders, Lord Roghet, Father Jhaomson, and everyone else on this ship!”
“Well yes obviously but how are we going to do that?” Hala’s tone clearly conveyed that she was getting a little exasperated herself for Ruha’s explanations being more than slightly lacking.
“We can use the Lord Roghet’s war room, where you heard them making those horrendous plans, Hala. There won’t be anyone in there right now because they’ll be up at the main comm station. You know the one where they always broadcast all their silly propaganda pieces every night?”
“Dexx, I know Uncle Gael was training you on the ship’s various systems. Had he taken you through how to use the main comm feed yet?”
“Well yes…kinda..but…”
Ruha ignored Dexx’s hesitation, “Perfect! You have to go as fast as you can to the Abodan’s communication room! Once we’re in position, we’ll need you to switch the ship’s main channel to Lord Roghet’s war room and keep it there. Take one of these and turn it to mode 32. We’ll keep in touch that way.”
Ruha grabbed a set of radios from the Ordinary Man’s station outside the Archives that had continued to be oddly abandoned the entire time Dexx and the sisters had been up there. An odd happenstance that unfortunately wouldn’t be remarked on again until it was too late, my dear Friend. Ruha handed one radio to Dexx while she practically pushed him into the elevator to send him on his way.
“Hala, we need to go now before it’s too late! We can take the elevator up and then go through the ducts the rest of the way so no one sees us. Oh, I hope it’s not too late, we’re so close to this all being over, I can just feel it!”
23. victory?
Ruha and Hala debated briefly over what path to take that would give them access to Lord Roghet’s war room while also not allowing them to be caught. They went as quickly as they could through a maze of dark hallways, empty elevators and unwatched doorways. The weight of the book barely slowed them down as they felt joy growing within themselves at the thoughts of freedom began to grow in their heads.
They still couldn’t believe they had found it, after so many generations of futile searching, the Way of the Path had finally been recovered. They needed to hurry though before the Abodans had went through with their plan to pre-emptively strike both the Avatoyians and the Occassusans in a series of coordinated bombings all over the surface of the ship.
In fact, right at that very moment my dear Friend, the Abodan forces themselves were climbing up the cables of the abandoned elevator shafts the sisters had previously used on their nightly visits to the Archives. They were like soldier ants climbing the twisted branches of a thorny bush as they streamed from depths of the ship to what for some would be their final spots of resistance.
While Ruha and Hala and the Abodan forces found their places, Lord Roghet, Father Jhaomson and Urak were going over the final preparations of their own pre-emptive strike against the Abodans.
All agreed that the attack was necessary and well within the legal rights they claimed to adhere. They would strike the Abodans’ homeland with a chemical agent. Those who agreed to continue in service as the Houses sought out new lands would be given an antidote, those who resisted would die. At Urak’s suggestion, less than a few hundred antidotes were prepared even though the Abodans numbered well over that.
Now all that was left was for the Avatoyians and Occasusans to be informed.
A shoddy looking podium had been assembled from behind which Father Jhaomson and Lord Roghet anxiously stood and waited for the signal that the secure channel to their people was live.
Father Jhaomson, the Father of the Right spoke first. He tried to hide his nervousness but the beads of sweat running down his face made a trail of darker gray against his light gray skin.
“We, Avatoyians are a just people. We do not take lightly the actions we are required to take to preserve the way of life we adhere. But, if we are to persevere and maintain the way of life we are accustomed, then a drastic measure must be taken. For too long, we have allowed our grace to be cheapened by the entitlement of those who are ungrateful, those who would rather take a hand-out than a hand-up.
These same people now threaten our very lives. They seek to take from us our rule of law, our possessions and all else. Given the chance, they would subjugate us to their beastly whims and wreak undue vengeance on us in return for their false belief that we have acted cruelly towards them.”
Then, Lord Roghet, the Lord of the Left spoke. His deep baritone voice created immediate feedback on the mic he was using as it had not been reset from Father Jhaomson’s speech. Several awkward seconds passed as he waited impatiently to be able to say his part in the charade that Urak had persuaded Father Jhaomson and him into participating.
“We, Occasusans, are a beautiful people. We strive on all occasions to allow ourselves and our servants the freedom to be who we are. We encourage expression of self and loathe the rigidity the law often brings. But, we recognize the necessity of justice in the face of self-preservation. Especially, when those who have taken advantage of the freedom given to them refuse to assimilate to our ways.
They seek to destroy the beauty we have built up generation after generation, they would return us to the savagery whence they claim we all came. They actively undermine our compassion by disrupting our way of life as their laziness allows our ruin. As they actively attempt to perpetuate our extinction, we must act first to protect our lives and the lives of our children against their murderous and unbending will.”
After they spoke, there was another awkward pause as the Lord of the Left and the Father of the Right stood side-by-side. They each hoped the other would be the one to actually lay out the plan they had constructed to eradicate the Abodans. They both desired for the plan to happen but neither wanted history to attach their name to it first if the plan was not well-received.
Urak stood behind them scowling, his disgust with their weakness was clearly evident. Once again, the Lord of the Left and Father of the Right looked more like petulant school boys who had angered the headmaster than the strong tyrants they both fashioned themselves. Luckily for them, they were interrupted before they would have been exposed for how weak they really were.
Ruha and Hala watched the proceedings from Lord Roghet’s War Room, They waited with surprising calmness for word from Dexx that the broadcast had been pirated and that the feed from the room in which they stood was now being beamed over the entire ship.
As they watched Lord Roghet and Father Jhaomson shuffle their feet and shift their responsibility, Ruha and Hala heard Dex’s brief confirmation over their radios.
“Go.”
“Stop this madness! We have found the Way of the Path, the promises and power of Elo, the original binding that was given to us directly from Elo herself. We demand you stop and restore the Abodans to their rightful place as rulers of the three Houses.”
Ruha spoke confidently while Hala stood beside her. Hala held the Way of the Path tightly in her arms. Dexx had done his task well and the sisters were now being broadcast on every channel ship-wide.
They held up the book for all to see. As one, they opened it, revealing the ancient pages and script it contained. The pages glowed and pulsed with pure energy. The cover itself radiated colors across the spectrum, creating a display of radiance that had not been seen since before the Dark Night had risen. Across the ship, every eye was drawn to it, every breath was bated as every person waited to see how the world was about to change.
As Ruha and Hala picked up the book, they could feel the immense power it held within its pages. In that moment, they knew they were the two most powerful beings in all of creation. For the briefest of seconds, they were tempted to use it for themselves, but they quickly banished those nefarious thoughts back to the depths of their minds.
They opened the book, and let its power stream out, and its energy cover every being throughout the ship, as all the wrongs that had been committed since the dark night fell were righted.
Except none of that last bit happened, my dear Friend.
The sisters opened the book, there was a brief of flash of radiant light and then the book crumbled. It turned gray and became like dust, where it was quickly blown away by the air circulating out of the very same vent which Hala had been cleaning days before.
As if in one voice, all of the people gasped and then there was complete silence throughout the ship.
Except for one, halting, mocking laugh.
Urak with glee in his voice, spoke then as the pirated feed had finally been taken back.
“Seize these treacherous traitors! This is all a distraction, a ruse, so that their people can bring war upon our benevolent rule!”
The words had barely left his mouth when explosions rocked the surface of the Akedia. The Abodans forces had reached their destinations. Ruha and Hala’s misguided interruption had given them enough time to settle into place and for Elder Tanja to green light the final order as Urak was speaking.
The next hour was chaos in its purest form. Abodan rebels streamed to the surface, where they quickly established forward positions while the superior but unprepared Avatoyian and Occasusan forces scrambled to take defensive positions and not be overrun.
The Abodan forces would have been successful too if not for Urak’s Violence Makers being presciently positioned in the most strategically valuable positions throughout the ship. Some would say it was luck, while others wondered if perhaps, Urak had somehow known of the impending attack all along.
As such, the initial rebellion was put down within hours. The aggressors retreated to become the defenders while the defenders became the aggressors. Father Jhaomson and Lord Roghet could not be more pleased as the Abodan aggression gave them all the justification they needed to put their plan into motion.
Within a day, the Abodans had been pushed back to the boundaries of their quarters. But, there a stalemate came about. The Avatoyians pushed from the west, the Occasusans pushed from the east. And both were content to now move slowly, ever increasing the pressure put on the Abodan fronts until their people surrendered and died resisting. Either way their purge was inevitable, it was only a matter of time as Urak repeatedly stated when he felt Occas or Avats will was weakening.
The Ayatoyians and Occassusans forces only needed to gain control of the ventilation room so that they could introduce their chemical agent without risking it spreading to the rest of the ship.
In all the initial madness, Ruha and Hala had an opportunity to escape. Urak’s order was, at first, ignored in the confusion. But, the sisters could do nothing but stare at the small pile of dust from which their salvation had returned. Their legs had long since gone weak and they slumped to their knees, leaning against each other in hopeless shock.
They barely noticed when a contingent of Violence Makers burst into the room roughly seized them and moved them to the ship’s prison facility.
24. Gael's dream
Ruha paced quickly back and forth in the small confines of her cell. Five feet forward, two steps over, five steps back and two steps over. With each lap, Ruha fell deeper and deeper into despair. It had been a week since they were arrested and charged with sedition. The Abodans were still under siege. Desperation had started to creep through the ship as resources had begun to run low without the Abodans there to do their servant duties.
The Abodans were starting to feel desperate as well. Their supplies were even lower and their morale matched. A secret conversation was held amongst the elders of the feasibility of mounting a rescue effort for the sisters, but it was quickly decided Ruha and Hala served a helpful purpose as propaganda pieces, even more so if they were to become martyrs. Only Tanja voted in favor of rescuing the sisters.
“This was not how it was supposed to go,” Ruha thought to herself.
“It’s all my fault, I failed everyone.” Tears formed in her eyes as she wracked her mind to think of a plan that would enable her to escape, rescue her sister and return home. But, in the depths of her heart, she knew this would not happen. The only place she would be going was on a transport ship to the Judging Board where it would be decided if like her parents before her, she’d be given justice via a long drop into the Dark Ocean below.
Ruha continued pacing, looking at every inch of her cell as her conscious mind refused to accept the reality her subconscious mind had long since begun resigning itself to. Eventually, Ruha collapsed on the bed that was provided in the cell for her. Though, it hardly met the definition of a bed. Rather, it was a thick slab of cold concrete covered in a thin, frayed mattress and a dirty, torn sheet.
Tears streamed down her face as Ruha knelt at the foot of the bed. She took three deep, long breaths, breathing from her stomach as an infant does. She slowly breathed in and slowly breathed out.
Ruha felt herself calming as she let the destructive thoughts of her mind roam free. She let them run out and away from her, allowing them to be replaced by other thoughts. Thoughts of her sister, her parents, of gratitude, of joy, of the Land. She found herself centered again on the path she knew she was tasked to follow. She whispered a quiet but sincere “Thank you,” climbed up onto the bed and fell into a deep sleep, dreaming more vividly than she had before.
The world Ruha normally visited in her dreams was dark this time. But, it wasn’t dark like in the Dark Creation, it was a comforting darkness. She didn’t feel the deep fear she normally felt during the darkest time of the night the Dark Night brought.
She walked forward through the darkness, her feet slightly chilled as she stepped through the crisp upper layer of what could only be snow beneath her. She could sense the presence of another with her. Their footsteps made a muffled crunching sound as whoever it was walked alongside her to a destination unknown. But, again, Ruha did not feel afraid. In the world of her dreams, there had never been any reason to fear. Besides, she had a good idea who was walking beside her.
“Uncle Gael? Is it you?” The walking sounds stopped, the only noise was Ruha’s quiet voice echoing across the expanse and a slight, soft wind pushing through what could be only be the thick needles of the massive pine trees that made up the forests across her dreamscape.
“Yes, my child, it’s me. Come, walk with me.” Gael’s voice sounded different, as if he was speaking without the assistance of the machine he had built for that task many years ago. His voice was clear and kind but slightly sad.
Gael and Ruha began walking again, the darkness hid any imperfections Gael once had and the tears silently falling down Ruha’s violet cheeks. They walked for what seemed like miles, somehow instinctively knowing when to duck a low tree branch or when to step over an upturned root.
“Why is it dark, Uncle Gael? And why does it feel different than the normal darkness?”
“Not all darkness is bad, Ruha. This darkness is not of the Dark Creation but rather it comes directly from Elo. It’s a darkness that allows us to give up the control the light brings and focus instead on merely following the path in front of us. This is a good darkness, my child.”
Gael and Ruha continued walking as the land in front of them began to rise and the forest around them slowly thinned until the ground beneath their feet turned from snow covered grass and mud to bare rock. Only the wind remained the same, though it had gradually increased in intensity to a loud roar, blowing at their backs as if to tell them the way to go.
“I miss you, Uncle Gael. It was my fault you died. I tried to honor your memory and my parents’ memory but it’s all gone wrong. I have failed, I have utterly, completely failed. We were the last searchers, the elders want war, the Way of the Path is gone and destroyed, our family is all gone.
Hala and I are merely children, what more can we do? There is nothing, it is over, we are lost. We thought we were faithful, but our faithfulness led not to the prosperity promised but only to us being separated from all that we love. There is no one, no one at all to save us! Who will save us, Uncle Gael? Who?!?”
Ruha’s cries built in volume as she yelled into the wind roaring around her, drowning out its noise but not its presence.
As the last echoes of Ruha’s lament faded away, the wind brusquely changed direction and pushed back strongly against them, so strong that Ruha could do nothing but brace herself so as not to be pushed over as they continued walking forward.
Then, just as suddenly as the wind had picked up, it stopped completely. The change was so abrupt, Ruha and Gael both stopped walking. The darkness remained as complete silence now descended around them. Ruha and Gael stood in the silence, letting the darkness comfort them.
“It was not your fault, my child. I died because Elo decided it was my time. She decided I was needed elsewhere. She needed me to help you escape from Urak that night in the Archives. My entire life was for that one moment as I was crossing the plane from life to death. Though I ultimately played a minor role in Elo’s tapestry, it was the role I was fated. And, now, I can rest until the Eternal Dawn comes, resting in the knowledge that I was a faithful servant of Elo.”
Ruha could hear the smile in Gael’s voice as the sadness left it.
“You have not failed. You have succeeded far beyond what anyone expected, far beyond any of those who came before you. But, you must remember you, too, are also only playing a role, perhaps a minor role like mine, perhaps a major role, that is not yet known. Minor or major, you are only expected to do what is asked of you, nothing more.”
Ruha felt the heavy burden on her shoulders lifting slightly at Gael’s gentle reminder.
“You may be children, but you are not merely children. You have shaken up this entire world from the deepest foundations of the Dark Ocean below to the most dreaded dungeons of the Void to the highest reaches of the clouds above. And, you are not yet done. There is still much work to do, work that you can do.”
As Gael was speaking, the darkness around them slowly started to fade, replaced by a light beyond the horizon that grew slightly brighter and brighter until it met the darkness. The light and darkness mixed into a buffer like a grey dawn where Gael and Ruha stood. Ruha gasped as she realized they were standing mere inches from the edge of a cliff so high she could only see the tops of clouds far below.
Gael stood next to Ruha. His body still appeared crippled yet in a way it seemed healed as he was able to move with ease. He put his arm around Ruha’s shoulder, to give her a side-hug as they looked out across the land that stretched to the light beyond the horizon.
“I’m proud of you, Ruha. And of your sister, too. The way may become more difficult but, in the end, all will be well. Know that I love you.”
Ruha felt a fresh set of tears running down her cheeks. But, these were not tears of sadness or joy for that matter. They were just tears of knowing that once again the world had moved on. As she brushed them away, she realized Gael was gone and she was once again alone.
Ruha woke up. Breathing deeply and stretching all her limbs, she began to softly sing the morning song to herself as she waited patiently for what the day would bring.
25. the trial
Today was the day, my dear Friend. A week had passed since Ruha and Hala had found what they had been seeking and a week had passed since the Way of the Path had crumbled into dust. A week had passed since Ruha and Hala were arrested and imprisoned. And now a week later, Father Jhaomson and Lord Roghet, with Urak’s prodding of course, had decided it was time for the sisters’ trial. As was tradition, the sisters would be brought in front of the Judging Board and there they would be tried and sentenced.
The Ordinary Men came for Hala first. Hala, as usual, was ornery and not willing to give an inch to her jailers. She floated around her cell, bouncing from side to side like a pinball, laughing and giggling the whole time as the joy within her poured out. The Ordinary Men screamed in pain at first as they were not used to being accosted by such displays of joy. But, then something happened that had never happened before. Or at least, something that had not happened since the Dark Creation had come about and the Dark Night rose.
One of the Ordinary Men laughed also.
It wasn’t a very good laugh, but it wasn’t a cruel laugh, my dear Friend. It was just the laugh of a person who not for a very long time laughed for enjoyment.
Everyone, Hala included, froze. There was no procedure, no policy for an occurrence like this. For how does one account for the unaccountable?
“Hurry up, we don’t have all day!” The shrill, piercing voice of one of the High Priests down the hall broke the moment. The Ordinary Men quickly grabbed Hala and drug her out of the cell, replacing her with the Ordinary Man who had laughed, just in case. They would figure out what to do about him later.
Hala gave one last look at her cell, her eyes went to the porthole window that filled one wall of her brief home. Ru-ach was there again, their face clear this time and she could see a smile on their face. She felt her soul instantly filled with light as she smiled. A smile returned by a wink from Ru-ach.
She walked between the remaining Ordinary Men, one in front, one beside her and one behind her. Their loud, plodding steps again contrasting with Hala’s joyful, skipping walk that made her almost appear to be floating across the walkway.
The strange parade stopped next at Ruha’s cell. Ruha, the opposite of Hala in expression but not in depth, sat quietly on her bed, legs crossed, eyes closed with a smile of serene peace on her face.
Ruha opened her eyes and looked at the Ordinary Man who was outside her cell preparing to unlock it. She approached the door as her gaze seemed to look through the guard who stood before her.
“I’m ready.”
She said it simply as the door unlocked itself and Ruha walked out into the hall, taking her place beside her sister. The Ordinary Man stood dumbfounded, key in hand, knowing full well the door had not been touched since the door was locked last night.
Hala greeted her sister with a hug and a quick whisper in her ear before the guards roughly pulled them apart. “Uncle Gael?”
Hala just barely saw Ruha’s slight nod and subtle smile before the guards put dark green hoods over both of their heads, cutting off any chance of further communication between the sisters.
The Ordinary Men quickly escorted Ruha and Hala to the waiting transport ship. Every moment as they boarded was broadcast out across the Akedia. The Avatoyians and the Occasusans disagreed on much but they both agreed it was important for all to see what happened to those who disobeyed the natural order of life. The coming trial of the sisters and subsequent administration of justice to them would serve as a strong reminder and motivation to the rest to stay in line.
The transport ship flew through the outer atmosphere of Soteria, where it docked with the floating platform that housed the Justice Board. The platform was barely large enough for more than two ships to land at a time. In the middle of the circular platform, there stood an old, rust covered building.
Inside the building were two rooms. Though, really it was one room separated by a line of tape on the floor down the middle. Tradition had always just referred to the building having two rooms. One room was set-up like a courtroom, a single table with two chairs. Two boxes were painted on the floor. One box for the accused and one box for the accuser. A camera sat behind the table, set up in such a way that the viewers back on the The Akedia could see the judges, the accused and the accuser and the room behind them all in one shot.
The other room was almost completely bare. It was empty of everything save a small digital clock on the wall and a large opening in the middle of the room through which miles below one could see the dark blue surface of the Soterian ocean below.
The clock was counting down the minutes until the Eternal Wave would pass below. It was a journey that the wave completed around Soteria twice a day. If timed right, anything dropped from the room would be destroyed by the passing wave. But, hitting the wave was mostly just a theatrical touch. If they missed the wave, the fall alone was more than enough to do the job.
Ruha and Hala stood next to each other in the box of the accused. They stood confidently if not slightly impatiently. Their journey was ending soon, and they had little patience for the drama that needed to occur first. Urak, the imp that he was, stood in the other box. He had a wicked smile on his face as he always relished his role as the accuser.
Lord Roghet and Father Jhaomson were seated at the table in front of them. Their High Priests stood behind them and several Ordinary Men stood guard around the room. Escape was not an option.
“Ruha and Hala, like your parents before you, you have been charged with high treason in your failed attempt to overthrow the natural order of how life has been since the time of the Dark Creation, how do you plead?”
The piercing voices of the High Priests spoke as one as they read the charge that was being brought against the sisters.
Unfazed by the mention of their parents, the sisters calmly replied, “We do not belong to the Dark Creation, we are of that which is ancient and was and is good.”
The High Priests hissed but they were quickly silenced as the Accuser spoke. His voice was quiet but oddly hypnotic and convincing.
“You say you are of that which is ancient and was and is good, but you say you do not belong to the Dark Creation. The Dark Creation is ancient and was and is good. Anything else is wrong, an evil façade. So, to what wrong, evil façade do you belong?”
Ruha spoke in response. “We are the remnant of the Devout Ones, heirs to the Everlasting Dawn, imitators of the Land.”
The Accuser laughed, a cruel harsh laugh. “You are the Remnant? The Remnant is a myth. The Everlasting Dawn is a myth. The Land never was. The Dark Night has always been, and it always will be. You are just two silly girls who barely comprehend the seriousness of the actions you have taken. The quicker you are dropped through the portal to be destroyed by the Eternal Wave below, the better.”
Hala spoke, her voice was soft but the look in her eyes betrayed the fierceness of confidence within her. “The Land was, is and ever will be. We are the remnant of the Devout ones, heirs to the Everlasting Dawn, imitators of the Land.”
The sisters smiled, smiles that were deep and good, smiles the depth of which had not been seen in a thousand years. Then they begin to sing. A song of lament and a song of forgiveness, a song that left all who heard it feeling reassured that all was going to be well.
“Arise and return, Samma, and ransom the Children of Your Light, they
who mourn in desolate captivity, until the Land appears again.
Delight, delight for Samma shall return to thee O Devout One
Return thou light from on high and lift us by Your presence
Rid the sky of the day’s dark night and put to close death’s dark reign
Delight, delight for Samma shall return to thee O Devout One
Delight, delight for Samma shall return to thee O Devout One”
The Accuser spoke now directly to the Lord of the Occasus and the Father of the Avatoyia, as well as to the camera behind them broadcasting the trial to everyone on board The Akedia.
“See? They cannot even defend or explain their actions beyond a ridiculous repetition of a forbidden phrase and childish singing. This heresy cannot be allowed to spread. Give them one last chance to stop their nonsense and swear allegiance to one of the Houses. If not, their death shall serve as an example to anyone else who finds their ideas appealing.”
The Accuser’s words hung heavily in the air as the Lord Roghet and Father Jhaomson spoke in hushed but animated tones before quickly coming to a decision.
They rose from the table and slowly walked behind the sisters and the Accuser until they stood at the far side of the room, on the other side of the hole that had been cut in the floor. The camera moved with them where it stopped between them.
Standing beneath the clock which was currently counting down from less than two minutes, Lord Roghet looked briefly to Urak, who gave him a slight nod. It was a nod such as a parent gives a child who has asked permission to do something they are unsure of if they should do.
Taking a deep breath first, Lord Roghet spoke to the sisters. As usual my dear Friend, the nervousness of his voice betrayed the confidence he tried to project.
“Face your judgment or mercy.”
The sisters turned, their faces stoic yet a single tear had formed in the corner of Hala’s eye and was making its way down her pale blue cheek.
Though, my dear Friend, her tear was not because she was sad about what was to come but because she was sad that they still did not understand, not even Urak himself. Ruha squeezed her sister’s hand, silently encouraging her to be brave while at the same time reminding her this would all be over soon.
“To whom do you swear allegiance? If you choose the House of the Occasus, all will be forgiven. You will gain full status in our house. This will all be left in the past, attributed to the ignorance of youth. If you refuse, you will be sentenced to an immediate cruel and unnecessary death.
What do you choose?
Mercy or judgment?”
“Same for the House of the Avatoyia”
Father Jhaomson quickly added his part, even as his voice cracked as the weight of what was being discussed suddenly dawned on him. Even the High Priests had stopped their hissing and swaying. The only movement in the room was Ruha and Hala’s hair being blown softly about by the breeze coming through the hole in the floor in front of them.
Ruha and Hala stepped forward to the edge of the hole where they clasped hands as sisters do. They looked down but the surface of the water far below was not visible through the dark clouds that often surrounded the watery planet.
They looked back at Urak, who had a smug, confident smile across his face. They looked across the open floor to the Lord of the Occasusans and the Father of the Avatoyians. Finally, they looked directly at the camera and prepared to speak to all those who were watching back on The Akedia; Dexx, the Abodans and their elders, and all the members of the House of the Occasus and the House of the Avatoyia.
The sisters smiled again. Lord Roghet and Father Jhaomson, both let out a sigh of relief as their power was still intact. They had not been forced to broadcast the execution of two young girls. Everything was going to return to normal.
Only Urak looked unsure, confused as the pillar of light that always preceded the Eternal Wave crossed underneath the Justice Board. It was like a vanguard silently announcing the soon arrival of the unending wave which would serve as executioner.
The light filled the room as for in this moment, it was the only visible light in the entire universe. The Justice Board blocked the light’s path to The Akedia and while it did, the universe and everything in it was seemingly cast in darkness.
As the others cowered and tried to find a shadow to hide in, the light shone on the sisters and illuminated their faces perfectly so that all could see them clearly. Calm and confident, they were at peace with the decision they knew they had to make.
“We choose mercy.”
They said it together and then they jumped into the light, through the open hole and began to fall to the ocean far below.
26. darkness falls
Now, my dear Friend, I must pause for a moment to say something that has just occurred to me. Don’t worry, we’ll get back to Ruha and Hala in due time. Something wonderful is about to happen and you’ll enjoy it as much as they did I’m sure. Though for those of you whom have been paying the most attention, you may have already figured out the wonderful thing that is about to happen to Ruha and Hala.
But, I digress.
My dear Friend, I am worried though that you may have misinterpreted what Ruha and Hala did. For this reason, I ask that you read this next sentence closely. The sisters did not jump through the open hole in order that they would fall to their deaths and end their lives. There was another reason. (A wonderful reason that I already alluded to and will make more sense in a few moments.) For some of you reading this, falling to your death or some act with a similar end may sound like a sensible thing to do or perhaps the only thing you can do. My dear Friend, please don’t. You may not realize it, but you are loved. You have inherent value. You are a beloved child of ultimate worth.
And, right now, right now in this very moment that you are reading this, you are the most important person in the world to me. Yes, I may not know you personally, I may not know when or where you are reading this story. But, I care that you are hurting. I care that you are in pain. I share your tears and grief. I am not the only one who feels this way about you though. There are people all around you who care about you. They want to help but they can’t unless you reach out to them. You may be thinking of someone right now. Go to them and let them love you.
Promise me you will, my dear Friend? Thank you, you are so strong and so brave, and I am so happy to get to share the rest of this story with you.
Now, as you hopefully know, as always, Ruha and Hala had a plan, but more importantly, they had hope. Hope that their trust in Elo was good and faithful and that their parents had not led them astray. It was a hope that reaches back from the future to tell them, don’t give up, it gets better.
As the sisters fell through the air, they began to sing a new song. Well, rather it was an old song sung in a new way.
Sing to Elo a new song;
sing to the Spirit, and all the Land.
Sing to Elo, praise their name;
declare their rescue night and day.
Proclaim their majesty among the Abodas, the Avatoyians, and the Occassusans
their wonderful acts among all.
For great is Elo and most worthy of praise;
they are to be awed above all.
For all else are idols,
but only Elo made the heavens above and oceans below.
Splendor and majesty are before them;
strength and glory are in their sanctuary.
Give to Elo, all you Abodas, Avatoyians, and Occassusans,
give to Elo beauty and justice.
Give to Elo the wonder due their name;
bring to them what is due as you come into their presence.
Love Elo, in the splendor of their sacredness;
tremble before them, all you Abodas, Avatoyians, and Occassusans.
Say among each other, “Elo reigns.”
The world below will be re-established, it will not be moved;
they will judge all with justice and fairness.
Allow the heavens to celebrate, allow the earth to be readied;
allow the oceans to echo, and all that are in it.
Allow the meadows to revel, and everything in them;
allow all the trees of the forest to shout in ecstasy.
Allow all creation to delight before Elo, for they come,
they come to judge the earth.
They will judge the world in decency and virtue
and the Abodas, Avatoyians, and Occassusans in faithfulness.
As they sung their new old song, something very peculiar began to occur my dear Friend. First, it happened for Ruha, then moments later for Hala.
As you already know, all Abodans were surrounded with an aura of light that matched the tone of their skin. In all the time since the Dark Night had risen, the auras had been pale and barely visible. But now the sisters' auras had begun to brighten. Their light grew to such a degree of luminescence that it started to push away the darkness surrounding them! But, this was not particularly peculiar. The people had always known what great power there was in the singing of the ancient songs.
No, the first peculiar bit was what was happening to Ruha and Hala themselves, my dear Friend.
As they sang they began to dance a ballet through the sky. It was full of pirouettes, assemblé and so much more! To those watching, they appeared as two bright pockets of light dancing across the horizon. And attached to the back of each of these bright pockets of light were a set of wings. Wings that were made up of the most vivid array of colors one could imagine. Like the prettiest wings of a butterfly you can imagine, my dear Friend!
Ruha and Hala flew and danced across the sky as their song grew in intensity and clarity. It was so clear that if you were on The Akedia, you would have thought the sisters were singing directly beside you.
The rest of the Abodans quickly picked up on the words and began to add their voices. Their voices rang out from across the Akedia, from the Winnowing Floor where those unable to fight had stayed, from the hastily made batterments that stood as the Abodan’s last defenses, and from the Abodan’s own war room where the elders and their advisers had spent hours arguing over what to do next.
It was a crescendo of singing voices that made the sisters’ wings grow so bright that they appeared like fire.
The sisters danced apart thousands of feet in a second, after which they came racing back to each other. They did this over and over, each time going farther and farther apart before returning together.
Light and color streamed from the tips of their wings, making the Dark Night appear like a tapestry with streaks of color splattered across it. The sisters were like the warrior poets of old as they fought the darkness with the beauty and justice they had found formed deep within their souls.
As the sisters danced and sang and painted the sky, a low rumbling started from deep beneath the water. The water at the surface began to boil and steam rose to the sky.
Louder and louder the rumbling continued as the sisters flew directly above it singing their new song of creation. Hundreds of feet below the surface of the water they could see movement. Something was coming up from the depths of the lifeless watery planet. It was rising quickly, faster and faster but the sisters could not yet tell what it was.
As whatever it was rose from the depths of the ocean, another voice began to sing. It was quiet at first but it quickly rose in volume. It was a deep voice, a comforting voice, a voice even more ancient than the Ancients. For, my dear Friend, it was the voice of the First One who is also the Last One, that from which all have come and to which all will return again and again.
The voice was streaking across the dark sky where it left a path of light that only grew in its wake. Its wings glowed so brightly that all, save Ruha and Hala, had to avert their eyes.
With an eruption of noise so loud it sent shock waves through the foundations of The Akedia, the rising object finally broke through the surface of the water.
It was the land, my dear Friend! The land had not been seen for a thousand years but now it quickly spread across Soteria where it formed barriers against the onslaught of the ocean’s dark and destructive waters.
The voice sang its own song now, a song of itself yet a song that somehow was a duet with each and every one of the Abodas who sang as one voice.
Landscapes began to form on the land as it crashed against itself, forming deeper valleys and taller peaks. Forests and meadows and fields and deserts quickly followed, and the land was covered in a cloak of infinite colors and texture. Creatures of the land and water came next, as the previously lifeless and soundless planet was filled with a cacophony of new life and noise. A creation that long ago had taken billions of years to form, now took only seconds.
The voice finally reached Ruha and Hala. Its song continued as it grabbed their hands and joined in their dance. They spun around and around, faster and faster, and they laughed until their song itself became indistinguishable from a guttural outpouring of joy.
The voice, Ruha and Hala slowly descended to the land.
Ruha and Hala’s wings faded away as their song ended. They stood on the edge of a towering cliff which reached out into the ocean, like the prow of ship protecting itself against the onslaught of waves. In the distance, the last of the Eternal Wave grew closer.
It was hundreds and hundreds of feet tall and it drew on its power from around the world as it bore down on the three figures on the cliff. High above on the Justice Board, Urak gritted his teeth as he repeated an ancient incantation, hoping more than anyone had every hoped that perhaps despite what had just occurred that this would still be the end.
The voice looked up as she heard the Accuser’s words. Ruha and Hala stood on either side. She held their hands tight, staring directly at the Accuser through the hole of the floor of the Justice Board hundreds and hundreds of feet above them. The two stared at each other, one ancient and one eternal. The voice calm and serene and powerful, the Accuser trembling and feeling fear for the first time in a thousand years.
Then, as the Eternal Wave was at its height, at its most powerful, it began to bear down on the cliff, concentrating all its destructive fury on the small piece of the land on which the trio stood. The noise was deafening as it crashed down. But, even louder was the voice. The voice became a roar, a roar not of destruction but a roar of pain, of grief, of mourning, of love and of hope, a roar that was a thousand years in the making, the voice drowned out the noise of the Eternal Wave.
After a thousand years building towards this moment, the moment was over in less than a second. The Eternal Wave broke and crashed against the land, it was no more.
The roar ended and then there was silence. It was a silence that lasted only an instant but it was enough to wash away a millennium of suffering, my dear Friend. It was a silence long enough for the Dark Night to fall the rest of the way away and for the light of the sun to come out again. The light from the sun was weak but after not being able to shine for a thousand years, it would do.
Ruha and Hala turned to face the voice. “Thank you, Elo.” They said simply, for what else needed to be said? What could more completely convey the depth of gratitude they had for what Elo had done. ‘Thank you’ was and is always enough.
“Children of the Devout Ones,” Elo spoke gently with a voice of hidden strength, “you have done well, you have saved the world.
Another moment passed before Elo spoke again, “But, your journey is not done. For, you must still save the people.”
Hala, always the one to say what everyone else was thinking, spoke in response, “But, why? Haven’t we done enough? Why don’t you save the people?”
Ruha, always the polite one, elbowed Hala in a failed attempt to quiet her.
Elo only laughed, not a cruel laugh or a mocking laugh but a gentle loving laugh. “Because, my child, I asked you. And, because you can do it.” Then, Elo stuck her tongue out at the sisters which made them all break out in laughter again.
Elo then grew serious. “Of course, there is a better reason. I have chosen you Ruha Beka. I have chosen you Hala Beka. You are two after my own heart. I have chosen you both to be the light posts on the path your people are to follow. You two were faithful and from you much good will come. I promise you this. The Eternal Wave will not return nor will the Dark Night. But, the Dark Creation is still alive and well and seeks to destroy you, your people and this world."
Then Elo spread her wings and took to the sky.
“But, Elo” Ruha yelled after, “how do we save the people?”
“Go to the Void, you’ll find your way there.” Elo’s answer came back as she quickly disappeared from the sky save for a brilliant spot of light racing away from them.
Elo’s words reached deep into the Void. They reached to the deepest, darkest corner of the Void, where there sat a glass castle, my dear Friend. It was a castle built to both keep out what was out and to keep in what was in. Seven congruent circles of barriers, each more imposing than the last surrounded the innermost castle walls.
And in the very center of it all, a great beast, who had been resting for a thousand years, awoke with a piercing scream so strong and earsplitting that it sent Ruha and Hala to their knees in pain and trembling fear. For, as everyone knows my dear Friend, in the Void, there was a monster.