Anunit brought us to a realm in the Earthly Dimension, a faraway land that Reapers no longer frequented. It was empty of life. “This is Biriane,” she said as we appeared in the middle of a slender white stone plateau. Around us, valleys and hills and arrowhead mountains unraveled like a blank canvas of rock and dirt and sand and dust. There wasn’t a single green leaf anywhere. Not one breathing, living creature. The whole place looked like a massive sculpture left unfinished. “It was once the cradle of one of the greatest civilizations. Now it is empty.”
I forced myself to look away from Unending, if only for a few moments. There weren’t many ways to keep my anger in check here, but feeding the anthropologist within seemed worth a try. My wife needed room to think and process everything she had been told—everything that had turned out to be a shameless lie. Death, you’ve really screwed things up this time…
“Biriane,” I said, my voice barely a hum. “Who lived here? What were they like?”
To the north, an enormous city rose from ashes and white sand. The wind and the rain had not filed it down much over the eons. There were still walls and bridges and towers that stretched over a few square miles along a deep riverbank that had once seen water flowing. From here I could see the riverside with its marble-brick half-wall. I imagined the people of this place leaning over to admire the view. There must have been trees growing on the other side, at some point. I imagined a lush forest spilling all over the valley with tall trees and a thick, almost impenetrable canopy.
It was empty now, and barren, yet just as arresting. There was beauty in this desolation.
“I only know what I have seen depicted on friezes and faded paintings,” Anunit replied, gazing toward the city. To the south, a string of villages occupied the valley’s edge, sprinkled in a semicircle like a necklace of white pearls adorning the plateau’s slender neck. Between here and there, dunes of diamond dust rippled under the soft brush of a warm wind. Not much was left of the villages, though. I could only see portions of walls and battered alleyways snaking around the former residential structures. “Tall and pretty, is all I can say. But my perception may differ from yours.”
“Is there anything left of their history?”
“I’ve seen stone tablets that have survived in a massive library up there, in the city center.” She pointed to the north. The towers in the middle gleamed in the sunlight, their spear-like tips made of polished metal. They became shorter toward the outer limits of the city, thicker and square by the time they reached the riverbank. “But I admit I never had much interest in this place, aside from what it has kept hidden over the eons.”
“How did you come upon this information?”
Unending gave me a fleeting look. She’d been so deep in her thoughts that nothing else had captured her interest. She was back with us now, but still quiet.
“There were whispers,” Anunit replied. “Here and there, a rumor… an idea. One ancient Reaper heard it from an even older Reaper… They knew of some special kind of ghouls guarding something precious for Death. It took me forever to figure out where this place was. No one had a name, just descriptions of it. ‘The great white land of desolation,’ they called it. Home of the first men, others said. I spent years in the Reapers’ archives, combing through every tome of knowledge, where all the known worlds of every dimension are recorded for eternity.”
“You have a database,” I said.
“Yes, and Anunit isn’t supposed to have access to it,” Unending cut in, glowering at the Reaper. “How’d you get in there? How’d you even know where to look for such information? I’ve been in the records room many times and never came across it.”
Anunit smirked. “I’m industrious, what can I say? I’m also very patient, hence the aforementioned combing. It’s easy to find something in there when you know what you’re looking for. Anyway. Seven worlds stood out, since they matched the faint descriptions I’d gathered over the centuries. Biriane was one of them, and it was the third world I visited, looking for what Death had worked so hard to hide.”
“There was something here that made you forget about the remaining four worlds, right?”
“Indeed. Don’t you feel it?” she replied.
“I do.” Unending finally spoke, her brow furrowed as she stared at the city beyond the dried river. “She’s there…”
I looked at her. “Who is? The first Reaper?”
“I feel her rage. It’s silent but sickening,” Unending replied. “It makes my chest hurt.” It added a certain tension to her voice, too. A weight that didn’t really belong there.
“A familiar feeling for you, I suppose,” Anunit sighed. “You spent almost five million years locked up on Visio. The World Crusher might have lost count by now. She’s been trapped here for much longer.”
Her name made my skin crawl. “The World Crusher…”
“It sounds ominous, I know. But I don’t know if she literally crushes worlds,” Anunit said, crossing her arms. “The ghouls who guard her seal wouldn’t tell me her ability. They’re not the chatty type.”
“Ghouls? Since when do you let a few ghouls scare you?” Unending retorted, obviously not convinced by Anunit’s explanation. Reapers weren’t afraid of ghouls. At worst, they despised the creatures, since they had once been Reapers themselves—foolish enough to eat the souls of the living.
“They’re not your run-of-the-mill ghouls,” Anunit said. “They have scythes, they know death magic, and they can talk. They’re ruthless bastards. I tried to get into the Temple of Roses, where the World Crusher is being held, but they chased me away. They were too much for me. Maybe they won’t be for you,” she added, looking at Unending.
The more I heard, the more troubled I became. The World Crusher. Ghouls who could wield scythes. Why? Why had Death done this? Why put this true first Reaper away? Why here? The more I heard, the stronger the nausea clumping in the back of my throat became. I could only imagine how Unending felt about all this. Her expression gave away very little, but it was enough to suggest that my wife had reached the end of her rope where Death was concerned.
“Where is the Temple of Roses?” Unending asked. Her voice sounded shaky, tremulous with ragged nerves. She was furious.
“Smack in the middle of the city, like I said. Right in front of the tallest tower. You won’t miss it,” Anunit replied. “Just take your time with the approach. Give the ghouls a hint of your presence. I suggest walking from the edge of the city toward the center, so they can sniff you out. If you appear out of nowhere, they will get aggressive, and I can’t guarantee you’ll be able to protect Tristan against them. They are vicious creatures, as I said. And they know some pretty serious death magic. Spells I learned much later and after plenty of hard work.”
“When did you come here last?”
Unending’s question made Anunit smile faintly. “A little over a million years ago. Not much has changed since. There’s a protection spell over the city, which is why it looks pristine even after eons of nothingness. The ghouls did it to protect the Temple of Roses. I figure this whole planet will wither away someday, and the temple will still stand, holding the World Crusher within.”
“So you want us to learn the truth about the World Crusher, and then you want us to free her,” I interjected, my eyes once again drawn to the splendor of the white city as I spoke.
Anunit nodded once. “Then I will consider your trials complete. Your wife will have a mortal body, and you two will have a chance at your much-desired family.”
“Where’s your personal satisfaction in this?” I asked. “You chose these trials for a reason. They’re truths that Death has been keeping from her people. From Unending, in particular. What do you get out of all this, aside from that favor you’ll collect later? And don’t try to claim it’s out of the kindness of your heart.”
“Death is a lying bitch,” Anunit replied, narrowing her galaxy eyes at me. “I want Unending to learn the truth. To see for herself. Then maybe she will tell
the others. Maybe the entire realm will see what I see: a liar and a hypocrite ruling over us. Mocking us.”
“You want a revolution,” I muttered, slightly disturbed by her response.
“No. I want the truth to come out. I want Death to feel the shame of a liar caught lying. She pretends to be flawless, this absolute entity that will outlive everyone and everything, but I want Unending and everyone else to see her for what she truly is. I could have waged a campaign against Death with everything I’ve learned, but my word means nothing. Unending, on the other hand—she has clout. Status. If I manage to get at least one Reaper to see Death the way I see her, I’ll consider it a well-deserved bonus. Aside from that favor.” Anunit chuckled softly, then nodded to the city. “You two had best be on your way. I’m giving you three days for this trial. Figure it out and set the World Crusher free. She deserves that much after all this time.”
Before either of us could say anything more, Anunit had disappeared.
Minutes passed in heavy silence while Unending and I gazed at the white towers with their metallic pin roofs. There was a lot on my mind. Perhaps too much for me to make sense of at once, so I chose to focus on what I saw and what I could do. The history of this place was unknown. The first men, some Reapers had called them. I wondered if they were in any way connected to the humans of Earth. Perhaps they had been one of the first humanoid races. I’d thought the Trakkians-turned-Aeternae to be the oldest, but Biriane seemed to go back farther than Visio.
“What do you think of all this?” Unending asked. She was on edge but doing a damn good job of keeping it together.
My eyes found hers, stars flickering within, bright with curiosity. The anger was alive, but a practical sense was coming over it like a warm blanket, and I could see the reason returning to her expression. “This feels wrong,” I said. “The World Crusher sounds like an ominous name. Why did Death put her away? I mean, the World Crusher must have done something to warrant this, right? Death, for all her faults... She doesn’t lock Reapers up willy-nilly.”
“We are on the same page, then,” she said. “Lots of questions, no answers unless we go looking for them in this place. The scythe-wielding ghouls might be of some help. To be honest, the original reason for this mission is fading with every second that goes by. But we must get to the truth either way, my love.”
“Absolutely. I think there’s a lot we don’t understand yet,” I said. “Not just about this World Crusher, but about Biriane and the ghouls and the people who used to live here. How’d they all die?”
“The anthropologist inside you is dying to know more, huh?” A faint smile danced upon her lips. She was trying to find a sliver of humor in this hot mess.
“Admittedly, I am curious. More worried actually, but focusing on satisfying the curiosity kind of takes the edge off where we are, if that makes sense.”
“It does. This place gives me the creeps. The ghost of the past hangs on, screaming through this silence.” She exhaled, trying to push it all away, if only for a moment. “We have a walk ahead of us. I’ll take us to the riverbank, but we can do the rest of the journey to the Temple of Roses on foot. You heard Anunit. It’s best if we ease the ghouls into it. Personally, I’m dying to know more about them. I’ve never heard of ghouls being able to use scythes. When the ghoulish hunger takes over and eats away at the Reaper, the connection to the scythe is lost. The weapon rejects its owner because the spirit is unclean and festered. Sure, the ghoul can still carry it as an object, but he can never access its power again.”
She was choosing to focus on something smaller, more manageable, before diving into the issue of the World Crusher; it showed her impressive strength of will, as she refused to succumb to the rage.
We appeared on the edge of the dry riverbed, the low white brick wall just ahead, partially blocking our view of the street. The buildings rose beyond, square and simple in their design, their elegance unmarred by the passage of time. The facades were no longer polished, and I could see the stone bricks with mortar still clinging to them. The windows were tall, their frames made of black iron. Most of the glass had been broken, but chips glinted in corners here and there. White dust flew off every horizontal surface whenever the wind blew, the particles sparkling in the sunlight.
But it was the silence that stood out the most. The silence of a doom long gone, its memory lingering in what it had left behind. Death had washed over this world, and only the buildings and the streets and the bridges remained. The stone and the metal. The dirt and the sand. I wondered what these particular ghouls had to feed on… Their kind wouldn’t die of starvation, but there was plenty of suffering and further degradation. I imagined it depended on how “ghoulish” they were as well. I knew of the stronger types that had founded Nevertide, and I knew of the slightly more beastly types like Rudolph and the others from Visio, or Herbert and his sanctuary. Would the ghouls of Biriane be even more different?
Unending took my hand in hers, gently pulling me closer. She kissed me, and for a moment I forgot all about Biriane and its strange ghouls. My wife’s lips were soft and sweet, her love for me undying.
She pulled away slightly. “You’ve been my rock this whole time,” she said. “Don’t let go of me now.”
“Never,” I replied. “I will never let go.”
She smiled, and I knew we’d be okay. One way or another, we’d get to every truth that had been hidden. There was nothing the universe could keep from us.
Unending
I was angry. Boiling, my consciousness bubbling like a pot on a blazing fire.
But my anger served no good. Not to myself, and certainly not to the incredible creature who’d chosen me to love and to be with for the rest of time. My anger brought nothing useful to the table, and I dared not let it take over. No, we had come a long way. Death’s secrets were coming apart at the seams, and I wanted to know everything.
I was tired, too. Tired of the lies and unspoken truths. Tired of the hypocrisy.
Biriane felt like the epitome of everything I had come to despise Death for. The World Crusher had been brought here. Hidden and locked away, and I wanted to know why. As much as the mere thought of my maker irked me at this point, I had to admit that she’d often had solid reasons for doing what she did. The World Crusher’s incarceration was no different; there must have been a reason. I wanted to understand what had driven her to make such radical decisions.
It didn’t minimize the gravity of her deeds. Oh no, I dared hope the universe would eventually repay Death in kind for all the times she’d disrupted its balance for her own personal benefit—Thezin and the soul fae’s survival were two solid examples, and I had a feeling the World Crusher would turn out to be a clear third. I couldn’t help but wonder what other things she’d been keeping from me and every other Reaper in the realm.
Dwelling on the big picture was too much to handle—it only made me angrier. So I focused on the Temple of Roses. I focused on the ghouls and the city itself. On the stories that needed to be told. On the man who’d chosen to walk this world with me, to build a life and a family with me. It was infinitely better than giving into the anger that nipped at my nerve endings.
“They cherished their city,” Tristan said after a few minutes of silent walking. He’d been looking around, studying the details and drawing conclusions regarding this place. “A lot of work went into the architecture. No house was left on its own. Not a single wall or roof was allowed to digress from the overall aspect. Notice the metal roof tiles. The same type of stone bricks and white sand mortar used for the walls.”
I offered a faint nod. “I suppose they functioned on a certain aesthetic.” We both knew the truth of this world was dark and probably dangerous, but peeling away at it layer by layer felt like the only sane approach. What had killed these people? And was there a connection to the World Crusher? Had this been like Visio, but worse?
“They did. All white. Minimalist lines. Sharp corners but perfectly round forms for the ta
ll towers,” he said, then walked over to a villa ahead on the right side of the alley leading toward the city center. “And look here. Three steps in front of each house. Everything is slightly elevated,” Tristan added. There was certainly a pattern, an adherence to certain architectural and functional norms. Tristan continued, “My guess is the river would overflow sometimes, enough to flood the houses. So they built this final version of the city about five feet above.”
There was a story already weaving in my husband’s head. I loved that about him. He found meaning in everything, even where I’d never bothered to look before. It had come with the territory of being a living creature, and I looked forward to experiencing that for myself—the awareness of having limited time in this world.
As much as I enjoyed Tristan’s anthropological observations, however, there was something else I needed his advice about. He had yet to steer me wrong, and I’d become accustomed to relying on his counsel for major decisions. I followed him as he moved closer to the villa, then sat on the bottom step, looking up at him. “Death will expect me to reach out soon,” I said. “If I tell her we’re on Biriane, she might pull the plug on this operation.”
“You think? She did let you go ahead with the other two,” he replied, joining me on the step.
In front of us, the alley stretched from left to right with almost identical houses, each with a five-foot foundation and tall, rectangular windows with black iron frames. Square planters lined the street, but the dirt was sterile. Trees and greenery had grown in them once. Now there was nothing, only a white dust that had settled over everything. It made me feel a little sad. I was the very concept of everlasting life, yet I sat here surrounded by death.
“Maybe she considered her soul fae secret to be more of a misdemeanor,” I said. “She didn’t want to talk about it. Just told me to get on with it, specifying that we’d discuss everything later.”
A Shade of Vampire 90: A Ruler of Clones Page 4