Arden pulls open the entry door, a thick oak slab with a collage of ornate wild game carvings trying to escape it. It’s inlaid with pearls representing the beast’s eyes and ivory chips where the various beast’s fangs are bared, and I’m fairly certain the glistening gold hue covering the entirety of the door is some kind of gold-infused sealant. The McLarin’s entry door is more expensive than my family’s entire estate.
We step outside, and awaiting our departure in the courtyard is a luxurious carriage. It’s large enough to hold all five of us and quite possibly a second family. It looks to be made primarily of a dark mahogany wood with luminous white trim, polished iron wheels, and sapphire-blue fabric both draped over the entrance and upholstered to the body, giving it a soft aesthetic touch.
Even more eye-popping than the carriage are the bridled beasts in front of it. Two massive and brilliant-white stags with antlers branching out thrice as wide as their bodies are standing restless, eager to get moving. These creatures aren’t supposed to be real, let alone be harnessed to a carriage. Similar to the fabled unicorns, they are believed to be enchanted and untouchable, but I’m now realizing the White Hart is actually real. And…there are two of them!
“White Harts!” I exclaim, unconvinced of what I’m seeing.
Arden lets out a small chuckle. “No, no. They’re mere everyday stags. Their coats and masses have been manipulated to make one wonder. It is all for show. I’m not fond of the deceit, but according to Parliament, my role as Architect requires heads to turn. It allows for a certain status to be upheld and it’s a battle not worth fighting. Real White Harts, if they can be addressed as such, are mere legend.”
They have a life most aspire to. I’m grateful to be invited into it.
This isn’t the first festival I’ve experienced, but it is my first Autumnal Festival. At the age of five, I did get to partially experience the Vernal Festival while my family was traveling through the Crimson Capital on a holiday. That celebration was bursting with extravagant seasonal decorations, enchanting song and dance, and seasonal foods that were exotic to my senses. I’m eager to see what the Autumnal Festival has in store for us.
Our arrival couldn’t come soon enough even though it’s a short carriage ride. It quickly becomes a history lesson for me. Arden, knowing my knowledge of Susy is lacking, insists on informing me of the basic teachings.
“So, Elder, what do you know about the Seezuhn faith?” Stone’s father asks.
“I know Susy is your god and that he magically makes the seasons come and go. That’s about it.”
Arden smiles and replies, “Yeah, I suppose it’s something like that. Let me fill you in on some of the details, though.”
“Father…” Stone shakes his head.
Arden waves him off. “Throughout the generations, there have been many interpretations to the Advocates’ preaching. This has led to several outcrops of the House of Season. Some believe Susy was not a man at all, but rather an ever-present god that knows all and created all. Others believe Susy did, in fact, roam this land and is the creator of all life and even created man in his image. Maybe the most eccentric, Susy enforces balance in the world among all things, not just life. A supersymmetry. And we are all governed by his laws. There are many other beliefs as well, but all were derived from the first religion. The Seezuhn religion.
“In this base religion—“
“Daaaad…” Jaymes interjects. “…nobody wants to hear your stories about Susy. Tell us more about the swords.” Both Stone’s and Jay’s faces brighten. Shae, sitting next to the two, offers a subtle giggle.
“No, no, no, no.” Arden waves his arms, flustered by the interruption. “I’m going to finish what I was saying. Plus, I’m speaking to Elder, not you two. Now…Elder…” He shuffles his posture on the bench seat so he faces me. “Susy is not the creator of Azure, the creator of life, or even the seasons. Susy is depicted as a deity because he regulates the four seasons. He is known to be a Hybreed who lived among us on our moon ages ago. However, not as a man, but something more spirit-like. There are testimonials from respectable men who witnessed his being and it is all written in the Chronicles of Susy.
“And to go back even further, it is preached that Susy originated from a celestial kingdom with blue waters, where all was blissful with limitless boundaries to passion and success. However, the beings of that world became too greedy. They lusted not for power or riches, but for knowledge. Faith was not enough for them. Simply believing was a thing only for children or the uneducated. They worshiped science with no room reserved for faith in the definition of truth. This is what drove Susy from that world and why he oversees our world, keeping us safe. Attempting to understand everything will inevitably suffocate a civilization. A very wise man once told me ‘Established science is irrefutable, but the power of faith cannot be ignored.’ This is something I try to hold true to, always.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard of the realm of blue waters,” I interject, not one bit convinced. “I don’t believe in magical lands nobody can prove exist. Nor do I believe in the possibilities of a Hybreed. Nobody has or will ever have the ability to perform all four of the seasonal talents. It’s a foolish depiction, is it not?”
Arden shrugs his shoulders and continues without verbally acknowledging my question. “Susy continues the circulation of the seasons, which, in turn, allows life on Azure to endure. It is believed he can change the weather patterns at a moment’s notice, which is why the foliage might change early, or the snowfall is soft some winters, or the flowers bloom a couple months late. It’s all in his hands.
“Ages ago—”
“Arden…” Lady McLarin interrupts. “How much of a history lesson is this going to be? He’s here to have a good time.”
“I’m almost finished. I’m almost finished.” He rolls his eyes at his wife. “Ages ago, during the first days of Azure, our society was far more scientific and factual. We always celebrate him on the solstices and the equinoxes because, scientifically, that is when the seasons are recognized to change and what the Old Races believed to be true. However, there was no organized faith back then, only facts. It was sort of common knowledge. But then, groups started forming that noticed the variations in the weather. Word spread rapidly there was nothing scientific about the seasons. There was no given date for when the first snowflake would fall or when the first cherry blossoms would bloom. There were already testimonies of Susy at this point, so this fueled the Advocates and their worship. These congregations began joining together to worship in what they called the House of Seasons and preached their beliefs that Susy was the one in control of the weather and, ultimately, the seasons. Eventually, enough disciples congregated to blossom into the Seezuhn religion.
“The amazing aspect of this faith is all the disciples gathered from peaceful preaching alone. No wars. Faith is a strong force, and it can cause men to be weak if they misinterpret its purpose. There were no forced conversions leaving destruction in their wakes. The pursuit of knowledge has been the only cause of war in our histories. It leaves me feeling proud to be part of such a faith.
“There were resisters, however. Resisters who truly believed in nothing except what they could see in front of their faces, nothing that could not be proven in an equation or experiment. Most of the resisters voiced their concerns that these Advocates were uneducated and ill-advised and brushed them off as something that would never outlast or outperform science. It turned out science was not as powerful as faith.
“And that is how the Seezuhn religion began.”
“That’s all very interesting, Mr. McLarin, but you didn’t give much detail about where Susy came from. Who is Susy other than some mythical deity from an unknown world? It sounds fantastical to me.”
“You know, Elder, you ask some rather rational questions for a boy of your age. Ten?”
I nod. “I suppose I’ve always had a strong curiosity. My parents are always telling me to pipe down.” And they’re always telling
me Susy was only a man, but I wouldn’t say that to Mr. McLarin.
Arden laughs. “Back to Susy. He is the most important part…” The carriage comes to a halt. “…but I’m afraid that’ll have to wait. We have arrived at the House of Seasons.” Arden steps out of the carriage and turns to face me. “Established science is irrefutable, but the power of belief is what drives this world.”
We step from the stag-drawn carriage to the entrance of the House of Seasons in Redoak. It’s not as grand as the one in the Crimson Capital, but not too far off. The main cathedral is about four stories high with four smaller cathedrals branching from it. Each could hold a large enough capacity to be its own House of Seasons. In the starless night, it’s tough to see all the embellishments these houses of worship parade, but I’m sure it’s astonishing. Aside from the typical dramatic and brilliant appeal, it is donned in a flamboyant array of autumnal decorations.
Lining the walkway to the entrance are numerous torches glowing in an assortment of colors. And not the typical variety of thunder lanterns, but flaming torches. Mesmerizing. How they do it, I don’t know, but the fires escaping each stalk vary from a dingy yellow of dead grass to a red as vibrant as the untainted Scarlet River, and various shades of yellows and oranges in between. The façade of the building is also adorned with flaming wall sconces in various locations. In addition to the autumnal flames, in the courtyard are four large-leaf maples, each the size of a mansion, showering down maple leaves of all colors. A non-stop flutter of leaves as if the trees have a limitless supply. Majestic.
We walk the well-lit path into the house of worship or, today, the grand ballroom for the Autumnal Festival. Arden, Shae, Stone, and Jaymes each greet the Advocate who welcomes every guest in the same manner.
“May the spring rains nourish your frame…”
“The summer sun enliven your mind…” Arden tunes in.
“The autumn foliage serenade your heart…”
“And the winter frost attune your soul.”
It must be very tedious to repeat the same lines over and over to each guest. I’m a bit uncomfortable chanting sayings I don’t understand, so I smile, nod, and explain to him I’m not accustomed to the teachings. He politely smiles and nods in return, gesturing for me to enter.
Arden and Shae proceed to greet and mingle while the three of us head straight to the buffet of pickings and refreshments. There is an assortment of breads from sweet to spicy, three flavors of potato skins, fruits and vegetables of every kind, and various exotic meats. The only ones I recognize include stag, python, and beef, but I heard others voice elephant, panda, and stingray, among others. I’m not quite sure what a stingray is, but that doesn’t stop me from sampling one of everything. When I believe I’m done filling my plate, I see another buffet along the adjacent side of the room. It is filled with uncountable pies and other desserts. Mango tarts and rhubarb, spiced pumpkin and honey pecan, lemon cakes and strawberry bread pudding. I snatch a bowl of the bread pudding, one of my favorites. Soggy bread alone is as disgusting as it gets, but somehow, in pudding, it’s superb.
The festivities enliven once the mingling slows. A few lads dash to the thunder lanterns, placing a shade over each one. As the light in the great hall dims, at the front of the room a large screen, clear-white, almost transparent with silvery wisps streaking throughout it, drops from above. Then it miraculously lights up as bright as a thunder lantern at full charge. The silver streaks thread through the screen like oils in water. A bass drum beats steadily with a slow tempo. Not too loud, but heavy enough to reverberate in my bones. Soon after, a higher-pitched snare rips faster, creating a steady rhythm felt throughout the room. The show begins.
I’ve heard stories about the silver screen and the tales unfolding upon them, but I’ve never experienced it. It’s immediately addictive. As soon as the screen illuminates and the story begins, I can’t take my eyes off it until the last scene dissipates. The narrator offers the denouement, and the screen rolls back whence it came.
The rhythmic beats start heavier and louder. And suddenly, it drops into a broken-beat traditional dubstep. It isn’t my preference of music, but it seems to make the dance floor attractive. Soon, the formal attire strips down to untied ties, loose ascots, and rolled sleeves. And the festivities become even more lively. One of Arden’s good friends requests a dance with Jaymes, which leaves Stone and I sitting alone at the table together. Then, not a click later, Arden and Shae return, only to have Shae ask her son for a dance. Stone doesn’t jump out of his seat, but he accepts his mother’s request, nonetheless. That leaves Arden and me. A perfect chance for him to finish his explanation of Susy. I’m curious about what he has to say, but…there’s more bread pudding at the buffet that looks far more appealing.
“So…” Arden starts before I make a move to the buffet table. “…Elder, is there anything else I can fill you in on about our beliefs? Why we’re here?”
I shift in my seat to get more comfortable. I have a feeling I might be here for a bit. “Well…is there any actual worship that occurs at these festivals?” I ask. “It seems everyone comes for the entertainment.”
“This is our form of worship, Elder. During the festival, I mean. We celebrate the existence of life, the beauty of the seasons, and the nourishment Azure provides us.” He waves a hand at the buffet. I see a gentleman scooping the bread pudding into a dish. My heart sinks just a little. “Plus, if you had paid attention to the story on the silver screen, you would have learned something about the importance of this day.”
“It doesn’t sound so much like an arduous religion as it does a good excuse to party and succumb to temptations.”
“We have our day-to-day worship, prayer, sacrifices, and labor of the land. This is our time to celebrate Susy’s furtherance of the seasons, rather than worship his existence. And religion doesn’t have to be arduous. Religion is more of…a way of life. A man who meditates daily and a man who prays daily are the same type of man. It’s a means to understand yourself, knowing the values you care for, and doing your best to partake in and demonstrate those values. It doesn’t matter whether you believe in Susy or not. Susy will always be there for you.”
“So…do you have time to explain who this Susy fellow is now, or are there other acquaintances you must attend to?” I attempt to sound polite, but ultimately, my intention is to arouse guilt if he doesn’t alleviate my curiosity.
“I appreciate your fascination, Elder. Of course. Where did we leave off?”
“You explained the history of the religion, but didn’t make mention of where Susy derived from. What makes him so special? What makes him more than…a man?”
“Yes, yes, of course. Susy wasn’t a man. Not in the sense you and I know anyways. He was an ethereal being only a handful of the first Advocates claim to have witnessed. The testimonies have it that Susy appeared in different form in each season he chose to show himself. Two men saw a wisp of leaves in a human-like shape, and another had the same experience with the falling snow. A handful of other men witnessed either a man materializing out of the raging whitecaps of the spring creeks or in their gardens where plants cultivated into the shape of a man. Every one of them were changed men after what they witnessed.”
“But all it is…is a story. Didn’t anyone wonder whether they were lying?”
Arden smirks. “There have been further testimonials since then, but the original ones were far more descriptive and authentic. And the Advocates who claim to have witnessed this celestial being all originated from different regions and all had similar encounters. Each occurrence was a man forming from objects of nature, and they all were warned of the fifth season, the season of solitude. Other than that, no, there is no proof. But that is where faith falls into place. If we had proof of everything, then there would be no such thing as faith or hope or dreams. Or theory, if you’re of the scientific mind.”
“The season of solitude? I’ve never heard of that before.”
“Not many ha
ve. It’s something the Advocates choose not to preach because it’s the last season, meaning there will be no others. It is the end of our time.”
“I suppose that makes sense. Though, it’s difficult for me to follow suit to something simply because others believe. Maybe I need to come to these lavish parties more often.”
Arden smiles and pats me on the back. “Yes, maybe you do. We thoroughly enjoy your company.” He knows all too well I’m not a devout follower by now but that I do have a genuine curiosity.
“And I thoroughly enjoy the bread pudding.” I make a break for the buffet to claim the remnants.
A man and a woman were holding hands today. With the amount of greed and hate in the world, I thought maybe family was a thing of the past. I know relationships are nonexistent in my life. It is a good sign. It means not everyone around me is passionless.
17 Stone
K nock, Knock.
“It’s early. Maybe she’s a late riser,” I say to Goose. “Not everyone rises with the birds, you know. Let’s give her a moment.”
“Yeah, she’s getting dolled up for me, no doubt. Let’s not rush her.” Goose smirks and waits patiently, staring at the closed door. “Do you think she’ll notice my new tunic?” He straightens the hem of the dark-green fabric. “I’m thinking I should’ve spent another copper for a second pair of boots. Never know when we’ll get another opportunity. You too. You should’ve bartered for a second pair.”
I wonder if he’s aware of his arrogant nature. He’s an attractive guy but average at best. I don’t quite understand where his confidence stems. No disfigurations, a little taller than average, dark, fine hair that he combs to his right with it shaved below the brow on all sides, creating a hard part. And a strong build, I suppose. His competency is below average, even if he boasts a big game. I just don’t understand.
Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1) Page 18