Fear suddenly stabbed through Romerus, the enormity of Ury’an’s last words so vast he could barely comprehend it.
‘What do you mean?’ he whispered.
‘Your sons will become the first of a new race. One that will possess the potential to save Mankind.’
Romerus stared, dazed.
‘My boys—my sons.’ He shook his head. ‘They are but children! How can they save humanity? And why?’
Ury’an drew closer then, his silver eyes filling with such sadness it made Romerus’s heart ache.
‘Because I have seen the future.’ He placed his hand on Romerus’s face. ‘Let me give you an infinitesimal glimpse of what it holds.’
Images flashed through Romerus’s mind for a handful of heartbeats. What he saw caused him to gasp and cry and fall to his knees, a terror unlike any he had ever known drenching his body in a cold sweat. He fell back, breaking contact.
‘What was that?’ he whispered, lips numb, a sick feeling threatening to empty his stomach.
‘It is what awaits Mankind and all of God’s other Creations at the End of Days.’
‘And my sons—my sons will be able to stop that?!’ Romerus stammered.
Ury’an fell silent. Even Arael grew still, his large eyes strangely thoughtful.
‘I cannot guarantee it.’
Romerus blinked. ‘What do you mean?’
‘To your son Crovir, I will gift a piece of my heart. It will grant him physical and mental fortitude beyond any other man on this Earth. It will also bestow upon him relentless determination and strength of will. To your son Bastian, I will gift a piece of my soul. It will grant him singular fortitude of body and mind as well, beyond that possessed by mere mortals. It will also bestow upon him great wisdom and kindness.’ Ury’an’s face grew inscrutable. ‘But my gifts will not take away their free will. Whatever path they choose to travel in life, it will be their choice. The decisions they and their descendants make, however, will directly affect the future of humanity.’
In Ury’an’s words, Romerus sensed a warning. Still, he watched as God’s Messenger placed a hand over his chest and slowly extracted a shimmering piece of matter. This he placed inside one of the gourds in Romerus’s sack. Inside a second gourd, he breathed a glistening mist that lit the air around them with a brief flash.
And so they left the cave and climbed down the mountain. When they reached the desert, Romerus turned to Ury’an. He sensed their time together was at an end.
‘The gifts you have given my sons. Will they make them like you?’
Ury’an shook his head. ‘No. They will maintain the appearance of Man. But they will live longer, much longer even than you, and have many children and lives.’
Romerus’s eyes widened. ‘You mean—they will never die?’
Ury’an looked up at the sky. ‘They will have as many lives as there are crows above us.’
Romerus followed his gaze. Surprise darted through him when he saw the silent, circling birds that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, bodies black against the pale blue sky. He counted seventeen of them.
‘Upon the final death of your sons, their children, and all those who will descend from their bloodlines, Arael and his brethren will come for them and return their bodies to ash.’
Romerus looked at the crow. The bird stared back at him, his gaze intent but kind.
‘One thing your sons must bear in mind,’ Ury’an added. ‘As with the first man and woman who walked this Earth, the children they bear will breed with one another to keep their bloodlines pure. But the offspring of Crovir and Bastian must never cross-breed.’
Romerus startled. ‘What do you mean?’
‘The Heart and Soul must never meet. Not now. Not ever.’
Unease filtered through Romerus once more. ‘Why?’
‘Because a child born of pureblood descendants of Crovir and Bastian will be more powerful than any of their kin. If such a breed were created, they might prove dangerous, to both humanity and their own race.’
Romerus was silent for some time.
‘Your will shall be done,’ he said finally with a dip of his chin. ‘I will tell my sons so.’
Ury’an stepped toward him then and lifted his hands. Romerus blinked in surprise as God’s Messenger clasped his head and tilted it down to kiss his forehead.
Ury’an stepped back and watched him with a glint in his pale eyes.
Romerus raised a trembling hand to his brow. A strange heat was spreading through his body from the spot where Ury’an’s lips had touched him.
‘To you, I grant some of my Divine essence. It will give you longevity beyond that of even the first man and woman, so that you may live to see your grandchildren grow.’ Ury’an gave him a slight smile. ‘For the hope humanity has for redemption truly lies in them.’
And then he was gone, his body dissolving into a flock of crows that soared into the air. Romerus watched, breathless, as the birds flew toward the sun. Soon, they were a vanishing black speck engulfed by the very heavens.
He stared at the sky for a long time. Then, he turned toward the desert and started to walk.
And so the Archangel returned to the Kingdom of his Lord, nearly a hundred Earth years after he had left His side.
Upon seeing him, God said, ‘Have you found a man worthy of my forgiveness and your favor?’
‘Yes, my Lord,’ replied the Archangel.
And God looked out over the Dominion of Earth, his unworldly eyes glimmering. ‘But I see darkness in the future of this man and that of his offspring. Although his heart remains pure, those of his children grow wicked. The wars and bloodshed they create will cast shadows upon the Earth for millennia to come. This, in spite of the seventeen lives you have granted them to acquire the wisdom they need to accomplish their destiny. Are you certain you have chosen well?’
The Archangel smiled and said, ‘Yes, my Lord. For the challenges they will face in the times ahead will be their ultimate test. A test of the trueness of the heart and soul of humanity.’
God was quiet for some time. ‘I see you have not told this man all of the truth.’
The Archangel said, ‘No, my Lord. I have not.’
And God smiled. ‘It seems you are willing to gamble with the Fate of Mankind after all.’
‘Call it Faith, my Lord.’
The Archangel gazed upon the Dominion of Earth, his heart and soul at peace. For the warning he had given Romerus was incomplete. The bloodlines of his sons were not to mix. Not until the time was right. And what he had foreseen of the children’s future indicated that many a millennia would pass until such a time was upon their descendants.
For the ones who would inherit and manifest the full potential and expression of his gifts would be born dozens of generations hence. And upon the bodies of the men and women who would be humanity’s true salvation, the ones whose torturous pasts would define their futures, he would carve his marks to identify them as his true heirs.
Chapter Five
3156 BC
It came on the wind, the wild, shrill call of a hawk. In the valley below, soldiers paused, weapons aloft, hands crimson with the blood of their enemies, their own bodies weeping from stabs and slashes. The sounds of war abated for a frozen moment.
Heads rose. As one, the men stared at the peak of the ridge to the east. Hearts that already raced from combat accelerated with fear and awe as they beheld the figure on a large, black horse clad in plates of armor. A murmur ran through the troops gathered on the bloodied battleground.
‘The Red Queen! The Red Queen is here!’
Slowly, it grew, until it became a chant, a frenetic chorus that energized one army even as it sapped the other of its remaining strength.
The figure on the horse raised her arm in the air. The broadsword in her hand glimmered, impossibly big in her grip, the metal catching the sun at her back and casting sparkling jets onto her gilded battle suit and chainmail tunic. On her shoulders, a cape fluttered in the
wind, blood red under the golden light. On her head and limbs, polished bronze gleamed. The soldiers held their breath.
She brought her sword down and pointed it at the battlefield, heels digging sharply into the flanks of the fearsome beast beneath her. The horse neighed wildly and reared up on its hind legs before bolting down the hill toward the soldiers.
The rest of the Red Queen’s army came behind her, weapons glinting, the beats of their horses’ hooves making the ground tremble, their cries darkening the sky. Above them, an armor-clad hawk hovered, a silhouette against the dazzling orb. It shrieked once more before diving after its mistress.
‘I do not even know why we are here.’
Mila turned away from the tent’s opening toward the man who had spoken, hands stilling on the blade she was polishing. She picked a piece of ostrich meat from a bowl on the table and fed it to the hawk perched on her shoulder before giving him her full attention.
A quarter day had passed since the battle ended. They had set up their tents on a rise in the valley, a short distance from where the main troops were stationed. At the edge of the camp, the bodies of the dead burned, dark mounds sending smoke spiraling toward the sky. The stench of scorched flesh would linger in the air for a Half Moon at least. By morning, the valley would be a veritable feasting ground for vultures and other carrion birds. She knew this from past experience.
‘The soldiers like to see you on the battlefield,’ she said coolly.
Baruch sighed. ‘The only one they want to see is you, cousin. Most of them would happily lay down their lives for the Red Queen.’
‘He is not wrong,’ murmured the man munching on an apple next to him. ‘And I suspect any one of them would think they had died and gone to Heaven if you ever allowed him to grace your bed.’
Mila ignored Baruch’s chuckle and narrowed her eyes at the second figure. For a moment, she entertained the thought of setting the hawk on him. The gesture, however, would be futile. Whatever injuries the bird inflicted would heal within a few days.
‘Tobias, you are a prince and general in our fathers’ army, as are you, Baruch.’ Her tone hardened. ‘I would like it if you two behaved in a manner befitting your stations.’
Tobias propped his feet up on a wooden chest and reached for a handful of olives. ‘Keeping up the appearances of our rank is solely for the sake of our people and soldiers, sister. We should at least be able to be our own selves in each other’s private company.’
Mila narrowed her eyes. ‘After four hundred and thirty-five years, your company grows stale, brother.’
Baruch laughed loud enough to startle the soldiers guarding the tents outside.
A grin curved Tobias’s lips. ‘Still, though we are formidable warriors, Baruch and I both know you should be leading our men, sister. To this day, I do not know why our fathers insist on keeping you at the rank of lieutenant commander.’
Mila refrained from replying. Her gaze shifted to the opening of the tent and the pyres of the dead once more.
The uprising in Terka was just one of several rebellions that had arisen since the fourth lunar month rose on this, the five-hundredth year of the Empire. Even as she stood a few miles north of the burning city, the first and second generals of their fathers’ army at her side, Mila knew some of her siblings and cousins were engaged in similar skirmishes on the boundaries of the lands that constituted the center of their domain.
It was a small price to pay for ruling a kingdom that stretched as far southwest as the Naqada population of the Nahal River, as far north as the Yamnayas of the Arals, and as far east as the Yellow River people. At last count, the Empire had dominion over nearly fifteen million human souls. And every year, even more were absorbed into their ever-growing realm as their powerful army vanquished nations farther afield.
Though Tobias and Baruch’s births preceded hers by over a hundred years, Mila knew their kingdom had grown most aggressively once she joined the army as a foot soldier at age twelve. As per the custom that had applied to everyone who had come before her, their fathers had insisted that she, the last born of their children, also progress up the ranks through her own sweat and hard graft. It took Mila twenty-two months to rise to the position of captain of the troop and another five years to that of lieutenant commander, an exploit matched by none among her siblings and cousins. In that time and the years since, she had conquered more human cities than anyone else in a position of power in the army, contributing to the dramatic expansion of their realm.
Only four people now stood above her. Tobias, the first-born son of Crovir and the army’s first general. Baruch, the first-born son of Bastian and its second general. And, finally, Crovir and Bastian themselves, their fathers, kings, and absolute rulers of the Empire. Below her were ranked her nine siblings and cousins, all powerful warriors in their own right, though some had assumed other roles within the Empire.
In all, fourteen governed their dominion of millions. Fourteen extraordinary beings, remarkable not only for their physical prowess and stamina in battle, but also for their ability to defeat death itself. Fourteen “Immortals”. And beneath them, the grandchildren of Crovir and Bastian, also Immortals, though most were still under age. Building an empire took time and commitment, and it was only in recent years that they had been granted permission by their fathers to have their own children.
Although the Immortals were revered as gods, Mila knew their lifespans had a finite limit. As per the lore instilled in them when they were but a few years of age, she and the other children of Crovir and Bastian had been gifted seventeen lives, and physical superiority over normal men. They had also been indoctrinated with the one immutable law that governed their kind: the decree that forbade the offspring of Crovir and Bastian from ever mating with one another.
To this rule, Crovir had added another caveat. To keep the bloodlines pure, his children and those of Bastian were also prohibited from procreating with mere mortals.
A bitter smile twisted Mila’s lips at that thought. Of course, the latter rule did not preclude the kings from taking human lovers themselves, something she knew her father Crovir indulged in on a regular basis.
The notion that had preoccupied her for the past Half Moon rose in her mind, sweeping aside all thoughts of her father’s debauchery. Her smile faded.
‘That is the fifth Terka governor we have disposed of in twice as many years,’ she said quietly. ‘Do you not think these uprisings are getting more frequent?’
Though she had her back turned to them, she sensed the glance Tobias and Baruch exchanged. Abu, her hawk, shifted his grip on her shoulder and nuzzled her ear.
‘Come now, sister,’ Tobias drawled. ‘It is but a consequence of ruling so many.’
She turned to look at her brother and saw the lie in his eyes. And though Baruch studied her with a neutral expression, she could tell he also shared her sentiments.
‘So, I am not the only one who thinks that,’ she murmured.
A commotion drew her gaze to the west bank of their encampment. A cloud of desert sand and dust rose from the hillside. Below it, a cavalry of some twenty men approached, helmets shining under the sun. A banner fluttered in the wind at the head of the troop, a golden lion on a sea of red. The crest of the Empire.
Tobias appeared at her side. ‘Ah. Your husband is here. His haste to join your side is evident, as usual.’ He glanced at her. ‘Not that I blame him.’
‘Yes.’ Baruch nodded wisely on the other side of Mila and lobbed another chunk of meat at the hawk. ‘Not only is our Red Queen a fearsome sight to behold on the battlefield, she is also the most beautiful woman in our realm.’
‘I am sure your wife would be thrilled to hear that,’ Mila muttered.
Baruch shrugged. ‘Even Hosanna admits it.’
‘So does Ysa,’ said Tobias. ‘In fact, all our siblings and cousins agree on this matter. You are the fairest flower in our kingdom. Even Navia, with her golden hair and green eyes, is no match for you.’
/> Mila tried her best not to roll her eyes as she watched the man leading the troop head their way. The dust and blood smearing the coat of the white stallion beneath him grew more evident as he drew closer. She frowned. She had lost track of the number of times she had berated him for not looking after his steed.
Abu uttered a shrill cry. She raised a fist to the bird. He dropped down onto her hand, flapped his wings, and flew out of the tent.
He was not a fan of her mate.
The man on the stallion jumped down before the horse came to a full halt, barked a command at one of the soldiers outside, and marched briskly toward the tent. His bright gaze arrowed in on her face when he entered, the hunger and possessive light in his eyes blatant for all to see.
Tobias coughed diplomatically. ‘How goes the rebellion in Nemrik?’
Calvary Regiment Commander Kronos, third-born son of Crovir, her older half-brother and the mate chosen for her by their father, waved a dismissive hand. ‘It was a simple matter to handle, brother. The rest of the battalion is already on its way back to Nawaar. Rafael and Malachi travel ahead to the capital to join Jared and the others.’
‘And what of the governor of Nemrik?’ said Baruch.
Kronos looked away from her for a moment and flashed a triumphant smile at his cousin. ‘He was executed in the main square yesterday, along with his family.’
Baruch raised an eyebrow in the ensuing silence. ‘Was that strictly necessary? His wives and children could have been imprisoned or dispatched as slaves to the farthest reaches of our kingdom.’ A frown marred his brow. ‘Why slaughter them?’
Kronos blinked, genuine surprise darting across his handsome face. ‘Why, he needed to be made an example of. Besides, Crovir has always been quite direct with his instructions. We are to forcefully quash any uprising and demonstrate in no uncertain terms to the human cities under our rule the cost of betrayal.’ He paused, his gaze and tone turning thoughtful. ‘He was very specific about what we were to do to the leaders of these rebellions and their families. He does not want any survivors who might seek revenge or stir up further revolts in the years to come. I presume you followed his orders and did the same to the governor of Terka?’
Origins Page 3