“The palace that was the greatest of my aspirations, the building of which consumed a thousand precious lives,” Cyron said. “And my eye is unable even to discern it. Is that the measure of what I lived for? Yet mountains that are the palaces of eagles extend from sea to sea. So which has the monument that will endure eternally, and which is as good as already forgotten?"
“The empire for which I would have sacrificed whole nations lies hidden by a cloud,” Gallestari answered. “The empire that the forests command knows no bound. So which is everywhere victorious and invincible, and which shall be swept away tomorrow as hoofprints in sand by the rain?"
The cryptic message was plain to Cyron now—why the gods had chosen to appear in the forms of destitute children. “The only history that has meaning is the growth of goodness in the hearts of men,” he reflected. “The mother baking bread to feed her young ones does more to write it than all the works of kings."
“Untold death and suffering, serving no end but to satisfy greed and vanity,” Gallestari said. “Any farmer or fisherman, or artisan who builds a house or makes a shoe creates more true worth by every hour. The gods defeated us without inflicting injury or use of arms, showing that violence has no value. They took no side in our quarrel, show kindness in place of malice. Are we not taught that hatred is fruitless also?"
Cyron stared down over his former dominion and found the line of the Ther river, picking out the spot where Aranos would be. He thought of the aging prophet that he had dismissed as insane. Would he be free now, preaching his Word to the city's crowds? “And the Warrior Kings will learn ways of gentleness,” he repeated to himself distantly.
And that was when the god who was called Kort appeared and informed them that the god Medic had pronounced them sufficiently recovered to go home. Neither Cyron nor Gallestari were sure what this implied. To their amazement, it turned out that his prayer had been heard. They were being returned to the mortal realm. Cyron could only assume that “recovered” meant reformed in their ways, their eyes opened now, fit to set example and carry the wisdom of the gods back to the world of men.
For them, the task was appropriate. They both had amends to make. The youth, Samir, however, would not be going back with them. Medic said there was nothing to be done. Cyron took this to mean that Samir's work was complete, and he would go on to the Afterlife that he had earned.
11
And so, as had happened with the god Kort, Cyron and Gallestari were resurrected from the dead. The city had been in tumult, with rival factions contesting and the army's loyalties divided to determine who would succeed. But the dissension melted away when the white angel carrying the invincible silver gods descended again, and the king and general who had died were delivered back to their people.
Forborem, Chief Counsel to the Throne, asked what was to become of the five thousand prisoners still being held in the prisons, that Gallestari had brought back from his victory. “Feed them, dress their wounds, give them clothing and provisions, and send them home to their families,” Cyron replied.
* * * *
Taya stood by the city gate with Kort, Scientist, and Geologist—a new entity—watching the column of released prisoners leave. Xeldro was with them, and Serephelio. Taya was still grappling with the realization that Samir wouldn't be coming back. The thought produced an emptiness inside which she didn't understand, that wouldn't go away. And then again, for the last few days she had been feeling strangely weak and lethargic, with aches all through her body and flashes of sweating heat alternating with shivering cold. Perhaps that was what was giving her such odd feelings about Samir. She wasn't sure.
Azureans seemed able to accept such things more matter of factly. Apparently they believed that the same thing happened inevitably sooner or later to all life. But it had only happened to four of the bio-people in Merkon. Maybe Azureans thought that because they didn't have the technology to fix bio-bodies when they were damaged, Taya told herself.
But that was something they could worry about another day, she thought, as she watched the line of figures with their staffs and bundles and the pack animals they had been given, moving slowly away along the road leading from the city. The inhabitants of most of the houses had come out to watch and see them on their way. Their faces showed goodwill and sympathy. Some sent encouragement with a nod, a wave, or a friendly word. It all felt, Taya thought, more like the way things should be.
And there was elation on the face of Serephelio too, she saw, as he looked at the scene and took in its meaning.
The last part of the prophecy of old was fulfilled.
Peace had come upon the land.
END
* * *
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