by Jason Alan
Drinwor’s midnight blues, glittering with thousands of tiny reflections, looked like little universes themselves. “A cathedral of starlight...I should have known.”
Peering through the translucent walls, Drinwor saw the golden spheres that had flown around the cloud return to fly around the hall. He saw them and all the cosmos that lay beyond. The Hall of Voices was as much a part of the sky as were the stars. “Have I finally found a place where light reigns unchallenged by those who would destroy hope?”
“Only those who have hope can destroy it,” came the voice.
“Perhaps…”
“Come to me, Drinwor Fang, Keeper of the Sunsword Surassis.” With those words, Drinwor finally had some sense of the origin of the voice. It seemed to have come from the far side of the cathedral. He looked ahead, and the cloud beneath his feet summarily billowed forward like a wave rolling toward the shore. Row after row of ethereal pews were left in its wake, as was a wide aisle that cut straight through the nave’s center. Drinwor inexplicably found himself striding down the aisle.
He felt as if he strode into a dream within a dream.
But then something distracted him.
He stopped, looked to his left. Just outside the walls, the golden spheres were gathering. One of them dimmed ever so slightly, but only for a moment before returning to its full luster. The other spheres encircled it, then spread out. The one that had dimmed was now the brightest and largest, a king star amongst a court of lesser suns.
The voice said, “Did you enter this place alone?” the slightest quaver in its tone.
Drinwor shrugged. “I believe so. I was being followed, though I’m fairly certain my pursuer didn’t make it in here.”
“Bestirred by the presence of the Savior, those souls must be. Come.”
The spheres quieted, their frenzy calmed, and they resumed their fluid course around the hall, enwrapping the cathedral in rings of streaming gold. Drinwor continued forward. As he passed through the cloudy pews, he had the distinct feeling that they were occupied. He looked around, but didn’t see anyone. He disregarded the feeling and pressed on toward the cathedral’s sanctuary. There, the head of the cloud had flowed up a trio of wide steps and surged across the dais, its billows bunching together and piling up to shroud the back wall, which was many stories high.
As Drinwor approached, the cloud settled down, dissipated a bit, and the wall was slowly unveiled. Once again, our dusk elf was overcome with wonder.
“Spectacular.”
The wall was perfectly clear, revealing hundreds of spiral galaxies that drifted through the space beyond. Their radiance tinged by the swirling arm of a nearby nebula, the galaxies illuminated the sanctuary with a soft violet glow. Drinwor was mesmerized. He thought the star-riddled space provided a more beautiful backdrop than any work of mortal artistry ever could have. Slowly, reverently, he climbed the steps to the dais, his footfalls as light as a doe’s.
Once upon it, he felt as though he wasn’t alone…
He was right.
Directly in front of him, materializing over the mist-covered floor, was a being unlike any he’d ever seen.
Drinwor was compelled to kneel.
The being spoke, and thus the source of the mysterious voice had been found.
“I am ZeerZeeOzz, the Seer Between the Stars, the voice for dragons lost, but soon to be set free. I am the Emissary of Drakana, his servant for all eternity. I know what it is you hold, and what it is you seek, and a soul lies in waiting, the soul for the sword to keep. Welcome to the Hall of Voices.”
Drinwor whispered, “Thank you.” He slowly lifted his head, and beheld the spectral seer.
ZeerZeeOzz’s substance was a thing of transparent brilliance. He was seemingly comprised of the same thinly stretched starlight that made up the hall. He had no neck. His disembodied head hovered over his torso as if it had been separated by the Sword of Molecular Destruction. He had no legs. His lower half curled beneath him as an effervescent tail of mist, and he hovered five feet above the floor. His eyes were glowing wells of green, windows to a wealth of otherworldly wisdom. His vaporous face was smooth, his features slight, but brimming with unfathomable emotion. He was accoutered in the translucent trappings of an ancient archer. A bow of silver hung across his back and arrows of starlight were kept in a quiver of gold slung at his side.
Ghostly but not ghastly, he was ZeerZeeOzz, a seer of the stars, a hunter who had found his eternal home.
He floated closer to Drinwor and bid the dusk elf to stand.
Drinwor did so, asking, “What exactly is this place?”
ZeerZeeOzz swiveled, and raised an arm and swept it back, his vaporous fingers leaving a glittering wake as he motioned. “This place is the last light seen by dying eyes, a haven for those who have lost their heaven. It is a sanctuary for dragon souls, a place where many await the opening of the gates to the Seven Glories. But now, most importantly, it is the place where you will find the One Soul.”
“You’ve been waiting for me…” Drinwor whispered.
“Yes. One Life, One Soul, One Sword.”
“One Sword…” Drinwor echoed.
So, the seer knew the saying. He wondered how much else he knew. Perhaps he could answer some of the myriad questions he never had the chance to ask the Fallen Angel. Drinwor patted his leg pouch, and asked, “I still don’t really understand—how can the One Sword defeat an entire dimension of demons?”
ZeerZeeOzz tilted his disembodied head forward, his expression evincing a small measure of surprise. “There is no more powerful weapon in all the galaxy. Surassis will destroy Nenockra Rool.”
Drinwor winced. “Well, uh, yes, but, I mean—How will it destroy him, exactly?”
ZeerZeeOzz spoke as if the answer was obvious. “While the One Soul provides the energy to light the sunblade, the One Life is the spark to ignite the One Soul. If both of their pure essences conjoin and release themselves through the blade’s fire, a supernova-like explosion of pure light ensues. The explosion is so powerful, it will destroy all evil souls for thousands of miles around the sword. Beings of light are immune to this enormous blaze of fire, but for darkness, the destruction is total.” ZeerZeeOzz paused, thought for a moment, then concluded with: “For your sacrifice, not even Nenockra Rool will survive.”
Drinwor’s face went pale. There was that word again. Words slipped hesitantly from his lips. “What do you mean, ‘sacrifice’? Is this the release you speak of? Are you speaking about the release of my life?”
ZeerZeeOzz brought his head back, and said, “Has the savior of the universe not been prepared for his destiny?”
Feeling somewhat embarrassed for his ignorance, Drinwor turned away. He shuffled around, disturbing the cloudy mist with his feet. “I’ve only recently discovered my part in things. The Fallen Angel told me the Sunsword needs to be resurrected, told me I’m the one destined to wield it. That is all I know.”
“I see,” ZeerZeeOzz said.
Now the spectral seer took a few moments to ruminate…
He wondered how it was possible that the savior was unaware of his full destiny. How could this child of the stars not know of his mortal fate? This child.... Ah, perhaps that was it. ZeerZeeOzz stared deep into Drinwor’s emotive eyes, probing, probing. There was little experience behind those eyes. Yes, Drinwor indeed was a child. Although he was imbued with infinite strength, his inherent purity had left his conscience fragile with innocence and fear. Now ZeerZeeOzz understood—the Fallen Angel had never fully disclosed the responsibilities of the One Life to Drinwor, for if the boy had been cognizant of his impending sacrifice, he might have shied away from such commitment, thereby dooming the universe.
ZeerZeeOzz saw the wisdom of the angel’s decision, but now feared he might have just inadvertently clued Drinwor in on his fate prematurely—though it did stand that his fate was close at hand…
Drinwor, who was staring at him with eyes that were slit to suspicious slivers, said, “You a
re not speaking, you are thinking, and I do not believe that bodes well for me. Please, just tell me—what does my destiny have in store?”
Indeed, I have erred. He suspects his fate. Things must be handled most delicately now.
“You have nothing to fear,” the seer replied, “the universe will cradle your soul in its loving arms for all eternity. Should you succeed, you yourself shall open the Gates to the Seven Glories.”
“Well, that sounds pleasant, but it doesn’t exactly answer my question. What of my life?”
ZeerZeeOzz said nothing.
Drinwor stepped forward, his brow lowering, as did the tone of his voice. “Do you mean to lead me astray?”
“I’m a sworn servant of light whose solemn duty is to steer you in the direction of your destiny.”
“I’m asking you about my destiny.”
“Your destiny is to be embraced by light for all time.”
Drinwor lifted his hands and with resignation slapped them to his sides. This was not at all what he expected from a being such as this! This treatment was making him feel like the child he knew ZeerZeeOzz suspected he was. “You’re accustomed to giving evasive answers, aren’t you?”
“It is the truth.”
Drinwor looked to the ceiling and sighed. “Perhaps, but it obviously isn’t the whole truth. And I think I’m beginning to understand why my father never spoke to me about these things, and why the angel never addressed all my questions.” Seconds of silence passed, with Drinwor’s stare stuck on some glowing runes that had etched themselves into the rafters. His lips parted, but were unable to let slip words. Eventually, though, he whispered, “They were afraid to tell me that I was going to die, weren’t they?”
ZeerZeeOzz stayed quiet.
Drinwor looked back down to the vaporous seer/hunter, and realized that this being, for all his wisdom, was bereft of compassion. Oh, there was emotion in those deep green eyes, there was feeling, but it was remote, reserved for things Drinwor probably couldn’t possibly understand. A hint of loneliness hit our nervous dusk elf then, and he very much wished Morning’s Hope was there. With tears threatening to stream down his face, he said, “I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I’m ready to die.”
The seer broke his silence. “I did not say that you will die.”
A sad little smile crossed Drinwor’s face. “You didn’t have to.”
As delicately as he could, ZeerZeeOzz said, “Fear nothing, Drinwor Fang. You cannot yet fully understand this, but you are so much more than you can imagine. Your existence is encapsulated by more than the skin that surrounds you.”
“I’ve been told things like this before, and I was beginning to believe them, but now I’m not so sure.” And then, as if gently nudged by some invisible hand, Drinwor’s face turned slightly aside. He looked past ZeerZeeOzz, to the back wall. The light of a hundred galaxies met his eyes, and he suddenly felt ashamed.
Here he was focusing on his own fate, when out there, precariously dangling before the pitch-black face of infinity, were the hopes and dreams of countless precious lives. He was reminded—he wasn’t here for himself, he was here for them. For all of them. All creation. Now, staring at the stars, he thought of those he fought for, of all those beings who had already paid the ultimate price: his father, Fleeting Shadow; perhaps even Vu Verian, Morigos, and Morning’s Hope.
They had all sacrificed for the universe, and for him.
Deep down in his heart, he knew there was no question…he would sacrifice for them.
He suppressed his tears, for he deemed he had no right to let them fall. They were tears that had been appropriated for self-pity, and they suited the Son and Savior of the Stars not at all. He composed himself, his features hardening with resolve. He looked back to the seer, and with a trembling yet determined voice said, “Tell me how to wield the Sunsword Surassis. As Emperor of the Sky, as Son and Savior of the Stars, I demand a straight answer.”
ZeerZeeOzz nodded, thinking, Good! Embrace your fate! Then he replied, “Once imbued with the One Soul, Surassis’ fiery blade can be summoned simply by your will, by the mere desire of the One Life. Then it can be wielded like other, lesser swords, although no weapon in all the world can match the power of Surassis! In this way you may defend yourself until you are close to the Devil King, Nenockra Rool.”
“And then?”
“And then, when you are close enough, Surassis will call upon you to conjoin with the One Soul, and—”
“And boom! There goes Drinwor…”
“And there goes the infernal ruler of evil in the universe,” ZeerZeeOzz added, “while the One Life’s soul lives on in the Seven Glories for all eternity.”
Drinwor thought for a moment, then asked, “What happens to the One Soul itself?”
“The One Soul sacrifices itself to eternity. The One Soul will be no more.”
Drinwor exhaled, shook his head. “Good Gods, I can’t believe all of this.” He looked once more at the galaxies behind them. He thought once more on his father and friends, and on all that was at stake. He gasped, sighed, and said, “Let us do this. Let us finally imbue Surassis with a soul.”
“So it is said, so let it be done.”
ZeerZeeOzz lifted his hands into the air. White vapor streamed from his fingertips, his head lifted many feet above his torso, and he asked, “Who are you?”
Drinwor straightened up, and answered, “I’m the One Life, the Son and Savior of the Stars.”
“And tell me—why are you here?”
“To imbue the sword with the One Soul.”
“And what voice do you hear?”
“The voice of the sword.”
“And what does it say?”
“It says: One Life, One Soul, One Sword…for all hope.”
“Ah, awareness is awakening within you! You are the One Life, the wielder and keeper of the One Sword. Do you accept this?”
Drinwor whispered, “I…I do.”
“Then we will resurrect Sillithian Synnstrike.” ZeerZeeOzz turned around and clapped his hands.
Outside, one of the golden spheres separated from the others. This was the King Star. It shot around the cathedral, plunged into the back wall, and slowly seeped into the sanctuary. Once there, it spread out over the dais as a cluster of wavy wisps of silvery-gold.
The seer moved backward and motioned for Drinwor to join him at the edge of the steps. As Drinwor did so, the wisps melded together, then expanded into the shape of a large serpentine body. Wings and legs emerged from the sparkling outline and a tail like a whip of sunlight unfurled. A long neck extended forth, and a head of scintillating silver appeared at its end. The eyes that fluttered open were so brilliant…
…their radiance shrouded the curved black irises evilly slitting their centers...
Drinwor was speechless. Here was yet another extraordinary being.
“The One Life,” ZeerZeeOzz called out, “I present to you the One Soul! Behold, Drakana, Lord of the Spirit Dragons!”
Drakana said nothing, but acknowledged Drinwor with a slight bow.
Drinwor returned the gesture. “Your magnificence.”
“And now, bring forth Surassis,” ZeerZeeOzz instructed.
Drinwor reached into his leg pouch, withdrew the Sunsword, and with both hands hefted it high over his head. Gods, its magical aura was brilliant now! His hands were lost in its golden luster, and the crystal held by the dragon claw pommel glinted so brightly, the limp body of Sillithian Synnstrike within was set aglow. Surassis was splendid indeed, Drinwor thought. He could have pictured it hanging upon the back wall, the holiest relic in this holiest of places in all the dreamy universe. The crystal pommel glinted again, then sent forth a wide swath of blazing light beams, illuminating the entire cathedral.
Drinwor looked over his shoulder.
Thousands of spirit elves were looking back at him.
“May the Gods return!” Drinwor cried.
“May the Gods imbue you with eternal s
trength,” ZeerZeeOzz said.
The spirit elves had been there all along, congregating amongst the misty pews. With the sword’s light upon them, their forgotten faces had phased into visibility. Their features were piercing, simple, and strong, shaped from a time long, long ago. All at once, they cried out in song—a smooth stream of echoing notes whose melody soared with a sound no mortal had ever heard. It was inspiring, hopeful, powerful. It grew louder and louder as the light from Surassis grew brighter and brighter.
All told, it was quite a beautiful scene, my devoted reader! (I would love to describe more of the music to you, but our story will soon turn toward its climax, and eternity will only wait for so long.)
Drinwor turned his head back around, and through his uplifted arms he saw Drakana. The Lord of the Spirit Dragons reared on his hind legs and spread wide his wings, which caught the light of Surassis. The sword’s light beams erupted into a wild white fire.
Drinwor called out, “ZeerZeeOzz!” but his voice failed against the singing thousands. Everything disappeared behind the blinding (but thankfully not burning) flames. And gripping the handle as tightly as he was, he was unaware that the sword had lifted him into the air, his feet dangling five feet above the dais.
Drakana’s outline reappeared. The spirit dragon’s head curled down through the flames, and he enfolded Drinwor with his wings. His eyes twinkled, then seemed to liquefy, the silvery-black fluid trickling into the upheld sword. Huge surges of energy, like vines of lightning, twirled about Drinwor’s hands, then fled into the pommel’s crystal. Drakana’s wings retracted, his whole body condensed, and his flashing form rushed down into Surassis, a gushing stream of sparking soul-fire!
Drinwor screamed.
Such power coursed through him, his eyes brightened to blazing silver and his hair whipped all about his upturned head. In that moment, some long-unsatisfied part of his being was finally sated, as if a long lost passionate love had at last returned to him. In that moment, he felt as if he’d instantly garnered the wisdom of many years. Now he understood more than ever the conviction of light, the certitude of his peers. His fear of death and failure slackened and his doubt diminished, for he felt a power within him that suppressed his mortal concerns. Now he knew his life was but a small portion of a greater entity, an entity that would endure for all time.