Ironcraft

by Pedro Gabriel

  “As ye all know, my dear logizkal, the ophalin enjoy the protection of Aigonz, Most High. He stitcheth together the fates of every being in existence. He decreeth the date of every birth and death, of every rise and fall. Who will halt his designs, inscribed on your foreheads since the day ye were born? Who will thwart the hand hovering over you, to crush you? For ye are like unto insects before Aigonz! Alone, you will achieve nothing.”

  “So it is! What shall we do?” the choir of the enochin cried.

  “Ye must fight fire with fire! If ye wage war against a god, then the aid of a god ye shall need! A god at your service! How so? You heard what hath been saith: ‘The gods created us!’ But I tell you, ‘We must create our own gods!’ Sculpt them with your bare hands, make them to your image and likeness! Let the thoughts of your gods be your own thoughts, that your will be done! Let the voice of your gods be your own voice, that your voice may reach the heavens! Let the works of your gods be your own works, that ye may achieve greatness! The gods set your fate in stone, without your consent… Now, ye will make unto yourselves gods, and ye yourselves will set your own fate in stone, without anyone else’s consent!”

  And Malvizio stood before the gold and the iron, and said:

  “It was indeed a divine sign, when this piece of raw matter was set before us! We shall use it to build the Pillar of Nephil! He will sustain us, no matter what adversity the stars hurl against us! That gilded mist came not to free the Bar-Iared, but to topple the Hill whither they had fled! They found their deserved fate; for when the Hill fell, the Bar-Iared surely perished! The Hill was the symbol of their race, and therefore, the symbol of their betrayal! Yet as the mist hurled the traitors unto their destruction, it also gave us a wage for our labours! When the Hill crumbled, we found enough iron and gold for this endeavour! And the name of this new god shall endure for ages! As shall we!”

  The Bar-Kain erupted into applause. Their blood was burning, their hearts ablaze with these words. No longer did they feel bound by the terrible destiny the prophecy allotted them. They hastened to Malvizio to learn how to sculpt the new god.

  Heralds they sent to Lamech, and Skillotz ordered them to bring the block to the Warrior City, wherein it would be hewn and chiseled into its proper shape. The Bar-Kain leveled all the nearby forests, and made sleds and wheels from the wood, so as to bring the block in one piece to Lamech. Once it arrived, they sculpted a totem out of the gold: a tower with seven layers on top of each other, and on each layer the face of an animal. At the top they placed the head, similar to that of a man or a giant, yet horned all around, with the horns forming a crown. This was made of gold as well, just like the throne. The iron, however, was used to make the podium of the colossus, and its arms and legs, and its sword and sceptre.

  And they called it “Moab,” which means “obelisk.”

  ***

  With the block gone, so was Enoch gone. The Bar-Kain tried to dig new mines where the Hill once stood; but Mizar sent some aftershocks, and they were unable to proceed. They then moved away from Enoch, and camped near Lamech, or Bera, or Birshah, or the other towns of the south. And they never again called themselves Bar-Kain, which means “underhill,” for the Hill was no more. Neither did they call themselves enochin, for they now hated this name: It had been chosen by the Bar-Iared, when they first settled there. Henceforth, they would be nephilin, and nothing else.

  But they did not abandon their plans, nor their quest for iron. If the Hill repelled them, they would find iron elsewhere, and dig where Nod would tell them. And as they begot new mines, they still felt the earth quake beneath their feet for a time. But Mamreh, the protector of life in all Thebel, went to visit her brother Mizar in the underworld. She begged him to take no more lives, no matter how blameworthy: For she had come from entreating the Higher Sylphs, and they had given her assurance that all would end well if he would be patient. Mizar was thus appeased by his sister’s plea, and contained his wrath. This was no easy feat, for the giants kept wounding his back, and trespassing on his domains, every moment of every day.

  The last to abandon Enoch was Talizima, its king. While his subjects had forgotten the Bar-Iared, or even the Bar-Kain who had perished during the crumbling of the Hill, Talizima could not forget. He recalled the cries of all those plunging into the abyss. He wanted to stay in Enoch, and rebuild, but no one else but Kolinzio and a handful besides would listen. Eventually, Talizima too moved to Lamech with his son. There, he remained king in name only, for Skillotz was king of Lamech, and Talizima had no kingdom to call his own.

  ***

  When the nephilin finished sculpting Moab, thus concluding the work of their hands, Skillotz proclaimed a feast day for all in Lamech. He ordered boars and calves to be slain, and barrels of ale to be opened, and all kinds of delicacies to be cooked in the kilns where iron had been smelted. All of Lamech was invited to the banquet, and even those from the neighbouring towns: the kings of Tubal-Kain and Iubal, and the viziers of the south; Moruzio, the captain of the armies; Malvizio, the priest ordained in the new Order of Moab; and many others. Nod also was present, even if she, as a star, did not eat. Yet she shared with the joy of all the others. And Skillotz was there, King of Lamech, presiding over the royal table with all of these noble guests.

  Kolinzio, however, did not attend. And Talizima was there only for enough time to offer a libation and eat a single rib. Afterwards, he withdrew to his quarters, for he said he was feeling indisposed. His crowned head weighed heavily on his neck. As he dragged his feet to his room, he dreaded the bed he so desired, for he knew he would find no rest there.

  For all others, the feast went on during the night, and even into the wee hours of the morning. There was food, and drink, and dance all over Lamech, both at the nobles’ table and 0utside of it. In the end, when the sun was rising, Skillotz turned to Malvizio, who was sitting by his left next to Nod, and yelled to him so loudly that the priest could feel the drunken odour of his breath:

  “Moab is finished! Our god wants for a priest, Malvizio! Go forth, and bless the colossus! Celebrate the new mysteries!”

  Malvizio almost choked on a piece of meat. He only knew the rituals of the old religion. Never had he been taught how to create a new one. But all others kept insisting, pummeling on the table and banging with their wooden cups. The priest stammered: After all this work, could he tell them it had been in vain? Nay, the populace would certainly be enraged against him and throw him out. But Nod, sitting by his side, placed her comforting hand next to him, and kissed him on the cheek, whispering in his ear as she kissed him. The priest would know what to do—the sylphid would make sure of it.

  They went out of the banquet hall. In the streets there were giants lying left and right, healing their drunkenness. Some of them saw Malvizio’s retinue and followed along, for beer had excited their curiosity. They stopped before the totem. Standing in front of it, they asked Moab to bless them.

  With a mechanical screech, the idol’s eyelids opened up, and allowed the statue’s empty sockets to be seen behind them. The neck twisted with sudden movements, followed by sudden pauses, till Moab could glance at the crowd by his feet with the eyes he did not possess. His mouth opened up in the same brisk way, but it contained no tongue. Rather one could see the back side of the skull through the open jaws, thus making the hollowness of the head more manifest. Even so, it was awesome to watch that colossal being moving on its own. One might say it was eerie as well, how Moab so closely resembled a living being made of flesh, and at the same time moved in such unnatural ways.

  Yet the totem would not leave his masters without a miracle. Another orifice opened up, this time between its legs. Thence another creature emerged: this one made of flesh, unlike its progenitor. And then another creature was begotten. And another, and another. Seven creatures were birthed that day. When the last creature was born, Moab closed his legs, and his mouth, and his eyes, and left his heavy head hanging to the left, and moved no more.

  The ne
philin were left in amazement as to what had just happened, but knew not what to make of these seven gifts. As pleasant and useful as they were, they seemed worthless in battle. And these were the seven beings:

  A mermaid, whose song could entice the whole people; the scales of her lower half were as red as her lips and hair.

  An ochre lion cub, which warmed everyone who drew nigh and petted it.

  A bird of gilded feathers, which gathered bits of gold here and there to build a nest in a crevice nearby.

  A green monkey, which climbed a nearby turret and from there surveyed the whole area.

  A flower of a bluish pale tone, which grew to be a tree, and gave the most sweet of all the fruits they had ever tasted.

  An indigo conch, which would lull to sleep anyone who placed it near his ear, for that person could hear the soothing sound of the ocean.

  And finally, a purple butterfly, the most wondrous being they had ever seen, as its wings sparkled with a thousand arabesques and spots resembling the tail of a peacock.

  Skillotz was much disappointed with these gifts. He desired weapons he could employ to win the war against the ophalin, not small animals that only seemed to impart pleasant feelings! Yet Nod assured him: If Moab had given them these gifts, the giants should deride them not.

  The king heeded the sylphid’s counsel, and gave the seven creatures to Malvizio, so he could study them and find how they could be used in the war to come. The priest gathered the seven animals, brought them to his library, and therein locked himself up with them. As for the purple butterfly, she seemed especially keen on Malvizio. She flew to the priest’s shoulder, and would not leave him anymore…

  Chapter

  14

  Pharaoh

  During those days, no thought crossed the nephilin’s minds, nor any word passed their lips, save about Moab’s seven gifts. All were curious: When would Malvizio discover their true purpose? And what might that purpose be?

  Yet not all of the nephilin languished for answers to these questions. Talizima’s mind had no room for such musings. Too many memories eddied inside his heart. The Hill crumbled every night inside his head, and giants whom he had known since childhood would fall to their doom again and again. He longed to close his eyes and see no more, but his eyes were already closed by sleep. The eyes of his mind remained thus open to the nightmares parading before him. Talizima would see. He would see the faces of the Bar-Iared slaves looking at him, reprimanding him. And Talizima would feel the scars of the whips on his back. Every night he felt all the lashes his slaves had suffered, all the lashes he had ordered, all the lashes he had allowed, all the lashes, without lacking a single one. Every night. Every night. Day after day.

  Talizima could not rule anymore. He could not order the labourers, or command the soldiers. He could lead the war efforts no longer. The mere thought of all these tasks filled the king with dread, so that even rising from his bed was too much an effort for him. The kilns grew cold, and so did his soul, as happens to a corpse. The king’s life dried up as a creek in the midst of a hot summer.

  One early morning, Talizima’s servants went into his room, and did not find him. The king had left everything behind, all his goods and possessions. His crown they found as well, lying on the floor as a piece of rubbish.

  One more thing Talizima left behind: a letter, a will. His kingdom, his crown, everything he owned, he bequeathed to Skillotz, his only son. The letter ended thus: “I am too weak.” As Skillotz finished reading the letter, he picked up the crown and thought to himself:

  “Do not fret, father. I am strong. I shall see this endeavour to the very end.” But within his heart, Skillotz felt a great pain, for he expected his father to tell him how proud he was at least once before he departed.

  Malvizio went out through the streets of Lamech, ringing a small bell and proclaiming:

  “The king is dead, all hail the king! The king is dead, all hail the king!”

  And all the nephilin acclaimed:

  “All hail the king! All hail Skillotz!”

  No one noticed that one of Talizima’s possessions was indeed missing: Pangizo, the iron flail. Yet, even if they had noticed it, there was nothing they could do. Talizima’s footprints were lost in the midst of a downpour, for that day had been rainy. And Pangizo was the least coveted of all the celestial weapons, so no one searched for it.

  The nephilin thought that their king had departed to Mathusal, as his father and his grandfather before him. Surely Talizima had earned some well deserved rest, as he had known nothing but restless nights for years! However, there is no record amongst the scribes of Melchy-Zedek, or anywhere in Iperborea, that anyone ever saw Talizima in their territories, in pilgrimage towards Mathusal. And the sages say that he who first called himself “king” could never have set foot on the sacred grounds of the necropolis, lest he defile them.

  ***

  A few days later, the Council of Peoples gathered at Melchy-Zedek. Outside, as the night drew near, there were stars dotting the skies.

  These were no stars, though…

  The sky was still clear, and these dots were dark instead of luminous. And they began to swell, and swell, and grow nearer and nearer. Soon, a melchin sentry ran breathlessly into the cothon palace where the Council deliberated:

  “Alarm, oh pontiff! Alarm, oh councilors!”

  “What is the matter, my son?” Bilidio asked. “Speak! What distresses you so?”

  “Winged creatures, but unknown to us. They bear logizkal on their backs, but are not hippogriffs. They approach us from the south!”

  When the pontiff learned they came from the south, he promptly abandoned his seat at the Council and darted outside. When his face received the sea breeze outside, the winged creatures were already nearby. They perched atop the Temple of Salem, as if they were gargoyles adorning its roofs. And even if such beings were commonplace in the south, the pontiff had never seen them, for they were not native to Iperborea. They were huge, vast enough to carry a giant on their loins. Their heads were like those of an eagle, with liquid eyes carefully perusing the landscape for prey. Their curved beaks sniffed in the same direction as their penetrating vision. Above their eyes, there were feathery brows arching over their heads. The wings were also as those of a bird of prey, albeit of a much greater wingspan. The body, though, was similar to that of a lion, with a mane merging with the feathers on the keel and hump. Their tail ended in a furry tuft, and their paws ended with sharp claws, which clung to the roof of the now abandoned temple.

  Only then did Bilidio discern saddles on the backs of these creatures, and on each saddle a logizkal. One of them did not come riding on a saddle, though. Rather, he was carried inside an iron cage of a cubic shape. Inside the cage, there was a throne, upon which the giant sat. A giant wearing an iron crown and a mantle of lion skins. And between the railings, he stuck out some iron rods, and impaled raw meat on top of them, and thus instigated four of the flying creatures, each one shackled to one of the corners of the cage. Through this device, this giant managed to guide his bizarre contraption, till it slowly landed upon Melchy-Zedek’s limestone street. Then the giant rewarded the animals with the meat, and left the cage:

  “Hail, oh Bilidio. The new king salutes you.”

  The pontiff recognized him at once:

  “Skillotz! I cannot believe my eyes! What say you? And by Mamreh, what are these beasts?”

  “You fancy them? These are ‘gryphons’! A powerful name is it not?” Skillotz said, as he caressed the beak of one of them. “There are plenty of these in our kingdom! My kind shepherded them for generations! Of course, now that the Hill is gone, most of them departed to other places; but we got a hold of some eggs before their parents went away.” His chest overflowed with so much pride as he spake, he could not but keep walking around the cage, pointing out each creature’s splendid features. “We hatched them, and nursed them, and tamed them, and bred them… Something we never thought of when we were under the Repub
lic’s grip.” At that moment, Skillotz knew he had the whole city’s attention in his palm, just as he held one of the gryphon’s reins; he then pointed the accusing finger of his other hand against the melchin. “Now we too command aerial mounts! No longer will the northerners be the skies’ sole possessors! On the contrary, we are the ones at an advantage! What can your once proud hippogriffs do against such a majestic animal?” And, as if understanding Skillotz’s words, one of the gryphons unloosed a powerful caw, so terrible it froze the spines of those who heard it.

  The pontiff was much amazed, just as his fellow citizens, but the gryphon’s caw awoke him:

  “Yea, I had heard of these gryphons. Unless I err, it is not your kind who shepherded them for generations, but the Bar-Iared. Nor do I think the Bar-Iared would ever conceive of such actions towards these creatures, for they knew them to be free as Aigonz ordained them to be. For it is not in the gryphon’s nature to be docile, as the hippogriffs are. Truly, I remember one of the Bar-Iared telling me there was a dire prophecy attached to the gryphons. I see no Bar-Iared amongst you, however, who could remind me of what it was. Nor can I grasp how the Bar-Iared could be amongst you, since you mentioned the Hill does not exist anymore.”

  Skillotz twisted his nose. This was not the reaction he sought. But he would not give Bilidio the joy of his embarrassment:

  “Enough chatter. As the new king of the League, I came to treat with the Republic.”

  “Are you king now? Where is Talizima, your father?”

  “My father of good memory left me the crown, and this crown is now dual. For I am the King of Enoch, the city I inherited from my father, and also king of a city of my own, which I have founded, and called Lamech.”

  “Those are saddening tidings indeed. Talizima was most esteemed by us, our divergences notwithstanding.” The pontiff sought, with these words, to join stray hearts together under the bond of mutual mourning; his intentions failed, though, for Skillotz sought not his sympathy, but rather his deference.