“She is our master orator and keeper of knowledge. She is revered throughout the Dark Side for her contributions to our history. It is a great privilege to host her this evening.”
“What does she do though? Sorry, I’m not too familiar with the Dark Side,” Cole added, worried he might offend the woman.
“Ka Reine is a speaker. I have had the pleasure of seeing her once before in my home village, where she told stories of her adventures on every single one of the local planets. She is very old. Older even than Chiron.” She patted Cole on the stomach. “I hope you had a decent meal before you came. You might be here a while.”
“We just ate, thanks.” Cole spoke to Habbad in an undertone: “This isn’t the show I thought it was. Do you want to go somewhere else?”
Habbad shook his head. “No. I am interested to hear stories other than the filtered drivel from Costas. I will stay.”
They took a seat on the upper wall, setting themselves a respectable distance away from the couple.
“Hey, Underkin!” cried the man next to the red-haired woman.
A set of small pillows flew through the air, Cole and Habbad each catching one.
The man called over again, smiling. “Might as well make yourselves comfortable.”
Cole thanked him as he and Habbad sat themselves on the embroidered seats. He leaned in, speaking quietly into Habbad’s ear. “I told you they’re not all bad.”
Habbad looked as if he were about to rebut the statement, but a loud silence fell over the theater. Lights dimmed, leaving only the stage in spotlight. Stepping out of the shadows, a hunched woman with silvery hair hobbled to the center. She was the first Aenerian Cole had ever seen who showed signs of age. The cycles had rounded her back and crippled her gait, though she held her bony chin high and moved with sure steps towards the center. Her charcoal robes had twinkling embellishments throughout, giving her clothes the appearance of the night sky. In each of her hands she carried a bouquet of flowers, though Cole thought her crooked fingers would have been better served resting on a cane. She stopped in the middle of the stage, releasing the flowers. Unseen currents carried arrangements away from the stage, scattering the petals and stems throughout the circular theater where they began to kindle and smolder. Winding ribbons of smoke wafted throughout the theater. Following the others around him, Cole inhaled. The fruity scent was pleasant and invoked a sense of calm. He sank into his padded chair, thoroughly content. Cole didn’t realize she had already begun to speak.
“It has been some time since I last visited The Sill.” Though age had taken her body, her polished voice was that of a powerful and confident matriarch in the height of her prime. “I see many familiar faces. Many young faces too. In your eyes I see hope and burning vitality. I myself feel an age younger just walking amongst you. I have Travelled the expanses of Aeneria and the local planets more than any other, and still I feel my heart rests here at The Sill. I can say with open honesty that your lot has the right of it. I remember an age when we were new to this planet, our magics unrefined and wild. The three schools were wholly divided, but we liked it that way. Segregated, each tribe shunned all schools of thought that did not coincide with what their ancestors deemed appropriate. This line of reasoning worked just fine when left well alone, but when contention arose our downfall ignited. As I stand within your Sill now, I recall a very special group of Aenerians who veered from this established tradition. This group is the very reason that you are all here today, and two still walk among you. With Aeneria’s first and only war rekindled and crashing upon your borders, I tell you now the story of your heritage.”
Ka Reine pointed a hand towards the shale stage at her feet, swirling her bedraggled finger in tight circles. The stone below her melted, rising up to greet her as she sat herself cross-legged upon her newly formed seat. She pulled a pipe from the folds of her robes and lit it with a spark from the same finger. Taking a deep pull, she released a billowing snowy cloud into the air.
“Some of us call ourselves true or native Aenerians, but that is utter nonsense repeated by those too proud to listen to reason. The truth is that not even the oldest and most regal families can trace their lineage back indefinitely. Just like every other life form on this planet, we were brought here by the same cosmic tides that carry Aeneria through the aethers. Before recorded time, our planet was a barren rock. Then, whether by their own volition or under the guidance of some higher power, the soul flies visited our rock. Some of these soul flies carried with them the makings of life, and under the radiance of Oberon and the local stars, a verdant biosphere was hewn from the rock and soil. When the time was right, the soul flies brought sentient beings from each of the local planets. These beings mated and melded together, forming the mutts that sit before me now. This mixed breed represented the best of the dominant life forms of each local planet, eventually becoming something similar to an Aenerian. With Oberon’s warmth laden with magic, every plant and animal, every rock and pinch of soil became saturated with latent energies. The early tribes evolved rapidly, and with each passing generation they discovered more about their magic. While they were not acutely aware of the varying parts of the soul, they were able to wield their powers with wild success. After a time, the tribes began to expand and explore. Their numbers swelled and they flourished into societies, eventually blending into the established governance that we are familiar with today. They became enamored with their own brilliance and success. Technology and magic mated and leapt faster than their understanding of it. They were so concerned with their discoveries that almost all traces of their ancestry were forgotten.”
Cole shifted on his pillow. One of his legs had fallen asleep. He looked to Habbad, who sat utterly enthralled and frozen like a statue. In Cole’s brief moment of distraction, he noticed a sudden pause in Ka Reine’s speech. He returned his gaze to her. There was no doubt she was staring right at him. To his immense relief, she continued, though after giving him an almost imperceptible wink.
“Somewhere among the wildfires of their genius, it was discovered that the soul flies contained vast amounts of untapped energies. The simple floating lights were used as a resource to fuel massive projects, Oberon Temple and its surrounding shrines chief among them. During this period of revelation, various parts of the soul were discovered and refined into the schools of thought that we know today. They are Rage, Passion, Wisdom, Hunger, Fear, and the twins Despair and Hatred. Societies blossomed under separate banners of magic. Rare was the individual who shied from tradition and embraced another school. Those who did were shunned and ridiculed as fanatics.”
Ka Reine took a long pull from her pipe, thickening the fog around her. “Though each group held fast to their different beliefs, peace and prosperity ruled Aeneria for hundreds of cycles. The factions left well enough alone, only interacting with others when all parties could benefit. There seemed no end to the harmony, but when the first Wisdom Walkers returned from the local planet they discovered something that would change Aeneria forever. It was clear that the soul flies were the actual essence, the very minds and hearts of the creatures born from the local planets. It was also plain to see that certain factions of magic had damaged the soul flies beyond repair. Fear, Hunger, Despair and Hatred were found guilty of nightmarish crimes against nature. Their victims returned to their homes to become rapists and murderers, socio and psychopaths, and the defilers of children. Entire wars and genocides had come and gone before we became aware of the abuse of the soul flies. Those responsible claimed that there was no crime, stating that their relationship with the soul flies was nothing more than that of predator and prey. Thus a rift began. The followers of Rage, Passion, and Wisdom set themselves against those who practiced the arts of Fear, Hunger, Despair and Hatred.”
Ka Reine paused to indulge in her pipe once more, flashing Cole another significant look. “The followers of Rage deemed the crimes profoundly dishonorable, as they took far more than necessary for any predator. The followers o
f Passion labeled the accused as evil, claiming they took gratuitous pleasure in the suffering of others. The followers of Wisdom concluded that the crimes were a violation of basic vital rights that every creature was entitled to. The issue sparked such heated contention that leaders from Passion, Rage, and Wisdom formed Aeneria’s first centralized government, which we know of course as the Celestial Council. With overwhelming support, the Council commandeered Oberon Temple and within its walls held the first of many meetings. Though Passion and Rage had their place, it was not in the halls of Oberon Temple. Though they took advice from the other schools, only the Wisdom Walkers held seats in the council, one for each local planet. The twenty-one Wisdom Walkers brought consensus to how they would all proceed. It was with long talks and heavy hearts that they decided the accused must be cleansed, lest the chaos and suffering spread like a plague. The council then cast the first stone in the war that continues to this day.”
Ka Reine paused. Cole worried that she wouldn’t continue, but after wiping something from her cheek she drew a series of short puffs from her pipe, speaking through the smoke in her throat.
“The followers of the darker schools were not prepared for the initial onslaught and suffered heavy losses. During the first skirmishes, three individuals stood out amongst the accused: Decreath the Feared, Grotton the Hungry, and Sorronis the Hated and Despaired. You know them now as The Three. They were perhaps the best and brightest of our kind, and together they joined their powers into a cohesive and dynamic force that none could withstand. The Three soon recovered from their initial losses and brought the full measure of their might against the Council’s forces. Unfettered by ethics or morals, The Three swelled their masses to uncontrollable swarms, devouring entire cities as they marched for Oberon Temple. The Celestial Council and their followers were tested all too soon in the fires of battle.”
“In the heat of the war, ever increasing pressure was placed upon the Wisdom Walkers. Not only were they responsible for mending the local planets, but they were also charged with discovering new uses for magic to aid in the war effort. With the influx of knowledge, the colleges at Oberon Temple made leaps and bounds, propelling their magics and technologies forward dozens of cycles. Few became renowned enough to earn the title of Elite, achieving complete mastery a school of magic. The Elites changed how the game was played; masters of Rage wielding the strength of mountains, masters of Wisdom bending reality to the breaking point, and masters of Passion commanding the power of life itself. They made their own rules and everyone else fell in line, or fell behind. Some said they had too much power.”
“The Three didn’t care for rules or power, however. In fact, that is exactly what they used against the Council and their Elites. The Elites were still bound by the limits of their segregated magics, and fell victim to the ever-flexible minds of The Three. Grotton the Hungry was the perfect temptation to Rage. Decreath the Feared was the mirror poison to Wisdom. Sorronis the Despaired and Hated was the bane of Passion. Once beacons of hope, the Elites became nothing more than another meal for The Three.”
“The followers of Rage, Wisdom, and Passion were losing the war, and so the Celestial Council began to explore the most desperate of options. A plan was devised to salvage what could be saved. Those who could would join with the soul flies for one final journey and leave Aeneria forever, while the Wisdom Walkers remained behind to see to the complete annihilation of Aeneria. Before the Wisdom Walkers could initiate this plan, however, a very young and very talented Aenerian changed the world forever.” Ka Reine stared back at Cole again, squinting.
“Varka was born into a well-respected family of Wisdom Walkers. He showed promise in the school; however, his interests wandered beyond just one school of magic. It became apparent at an early age that within him also burned the fires of Rage and Passion, an embarrassment for any respectable parent in a Wisdom clan. These emotions were usually stifled at an early age, merely weeds to be plucked before they infested the garden of the mind. His parents steered him with a firm hand down the path of Wisdom, but Varka was found all too often fighting other children or bonding with the simplest of animals. He was shunned, a shame on his family as if he had been born with some deformity of the mind.”
“The war had left no part of Aeneria unscathed. The arm of the Dark Three eventually cast its shadow over Varka’s village. Decreath’s swarm flooded the town with a Fear designed to undermine the crystalline laws of logic and reason. Before long the town had been overrun, and Aeneria lost some of the best and most revered Wisdom Walkers of the time. Varka fared well in the battle, better even than the elders. While Fear consumed the rest of the village, Varka’s Rage kept the sickening magic at bay.”
Cole swallowed, relaxing his cramped hands and taking a much-needed breath. He felt like he was really there. Hoping that no one saw, he stilled the Rage, shrinking his munisica back into his normal hands and feet. The Rage felt good. He marveled at the angles of his black blades before they vanished.
Ka Reine went on, “The battle was all but lost until Varka did something that could never be forgiven, though it was his actions that saved the town. After laying eyes upon the corpses of his family, part of Varka’s soul had come undone. His Rage had awoken fully and completely. Without the established trials or formal training, Varka acquired complete mastery of the Rage within himself. The atrocities committed by Decreath’s hordes were terrifying to the hardest of spirits, though they were candles before the sun compared to what Varka wrought. His munisica exploded from his hands as his entire physical form became shrouded in the black armor of fury. His chaos was swift and necessary. Within minutes Decreath’s minions lay strewn throughout the streets, hundreds of their tortured forms dashed to pieces. Once recovered, the few surviving elders were left with no choice but to cast Varka into exile. He was no Wisdom Walker, and in their eyes never would be.”
“While Varka had mastered Rage, he was also wise enough to accept his banishment and seek his fortune elsewhere. There was nothing left for him in the town anyway. Throughout his subsequent adventures he fell in with other outcasts. Together they shared ideas and concepts previously deemed taboo. Wisdom, Rage, and Passion were appreciated and studied equally. Varka was the first to achieve mastery of a school, but soon others had their minds unleashed and they achieved Elite status as well. To his own chagrin, Varka fell in love and mastered Passion. To master one school was rare and unheard of for one so young, but to achieve full mastery of two was unprecedented.”
“The group called themselves the Unbound and chose Varka as their leader. The Unbound were not only dynamic and powerful, but steadfast companions. During their adventures and experimental practices, new concepts were born to Aeneria. They Traveled to each of the local planets, sampling the varieties of life as they went. The Celestial Council were left dumbstruck as the Unbound solved immense problems in a fraction of the time that it would have taken the old Wisdom Walkers. For the betterment of all, the Unbound worked tirelessly to improve their skills and increase their knowledge of the universe around them. With each passing moment they grew stronger; however, so did their enemies. While the Unbound were away on the local planets, The Three had spread to every corner of Aeneria, leaving a wake of festering death behind them. Eventually the Unbound had no choice but to face The Three in open combat.”
“The last of Aeneria’s traditional Elites had fallen, either beguiled into temptation or killed personally by The Three. The tides of war crashed against the walls of Oberon Temple, where the survivors of Rage, Passion, and Wisdom dug in for the final stand. Varka and the Unbound returned from a Traveling to find the temple ablaze. The entire population of their allies had sought refuge within the walls of the temple, fighting tooth and nail against the plagues that besieged it. The Unbound rushed to the aid of the Celestial Council, bringing their full might to bear. Rage, Wisdom, and Passion worked in unison, ever flexible and adaptive to the onslaught of The Three. With their dynamic powers they stole th
rough the temple and found that they could hold the line indefinitely, though they could gain no ground themselves. The swarms of The Three had grown beyond comprehension, drowning out even Oberon’s light. During the stalemate, Varka sought answers deep within Oberon Temple. He had mastered both Rage and Passion, but they were not enough. The Unbound faced impossible odds, so he decided to do the impossible and attempt to master the final part of himself. During their final hour, Varka entered the Vault of Wisdom, never to return.”
“The Unbound trusted Varka. After all he had already achieved the unfathomable and brought them thus far. Varka remained in the vault for the rest of the month with no results. When he had spent more time inside than any other before him, they knew that he would never return. The Hope of the Unbound wilted. This was the chance that Sorronis had been waiting for. The chink in the armor, however slight, was enough for him to seep through and work his craft. Despair creeping, the Unbound faltered and their barriers faded. The swarms broke upon the temple and the battle recommenced. Those adept in Passion were the first to fall to the Despair. Without their master healers the rest stood little chance. When only two of the Unbound remained, they used the last of their strength to call out to Varka in the depths of the Vault of Wisdom.”
“As if in answer to their plea, Oberon blazed through the sickly clouds of The Three. Brighter than a rising star, it expelled its latent energy directly into the temple. The finer details of what happened next were never fully understood, but the consequences were thus: First, Decreath, Sorronis, and Grotton were banished to the Light Side as the barrier appeared around Aeneria’s Dark Side. Second, Travel became impossible, preventing all passage to the local planets. Third, and most sad, the soul flies never returned to visit us again.”
“There are several theories as to what happened to Varka. He may very well still be inside the Vault of Wisdom. Or he may have left with the soul flies. Some say he simply disappeared into the aethers. Or perhaps he was destroyed when he wielded Oberon’s power. There are those that still search for him, but since that day there hasn’t been so much as an echoed whisper of the master of the Unbound.”
Saving The Dark Side: Book 1: The Devotion Page 35