“Ira…” He dropped to his knees in defeat. “Ira, please help me…”
Leaning back upon the golden gates, he placed his head in his hands. Ever since Ira’s death, everything had gone so wrong. His family had been ripped apart; he could not let the same happen to Amelia’s. He began to cry and hated himself for it; he was still such a child, weak and helpless. He wished he were more like his brother; he had never seen Syros cry, not in all the years they had grown up together. He could pray to the gods to ask for their help, but that now seemed like a most pointless endeavour, for the gods had never answered his prayers.
“Yashin, Kymous, Quirina, Medzu and Pia,” Ednon said, looking up from his book to face his brother. “Apparently, these are the five gods who have been charged with watching over all life within the universe.”
“Gods aren’t real.”
“How do you know? The Medzu statue in Asterleigh is as tall as a mountain; how could that exist without the help of divine intervention?”
He remembered Syros shrugging. “They say Medzu loves us. Well, if that’s the case, then why did it let our parents die?” Ednon kept quiet and searched his mind for a rebuttal, but could not find one. “We are alone, Ednon. Nobody is coming to save us.”
“Young master Ednon, returned to visit us so soon?”
Robles’s face was peering down at him, leaning over the top of the gateway with a curious expression.
“Robles!” Ednon stood up, feeling relief run through him. “Robles, I need to speak with Lady Ethna!”
“I’m sorry, young master, but I’m afraid madam is not here at present. Perhaps you should come back in a few weeks from now.”
“Where is she?”
“She has journeyed north to Roxton, to conduct an urgent meeting. I am sure whatever you feel is so important to bang so violently upon these gates can wait until her return.”
Ednon stared at the old subservient man; he knew Robles was lying to him. The only times he had previously seen the fiercely blue-eyed Ethna, Robles was always trailing behind, like an old dilapidated shadow. If she had truly travelled north to Roxton, there was no way Robles would not have accompanied her. Nevertheless, even though he knew the man was prevaricating, it did not make his entry any easier. He needed to say something to break through the bushy-moustached man’s false pretence.
“I know where Luther is…”
He waited for a response that did not return immediately, although Robles’s steely eyes had widened.
“You truly know of Luther’s whereabouts?”
“I do.”
Robles looked back down upon him while giving his moustache a stroke. Seeming to have accepted Ednon’s supposed information, he eventually answered, “Wait here… I shall return in a few minutes.”
Please, Ednon silently begged, as he watched Robles’s head disappearing behind the closed entry. Please just open these gates.
He waited and, as promised, the old man finally reappeared. “Very well, master Ednon, you may come inside.” And with that the gilded barrier opened, and for the second time in as many days, he entered the prodigious grounds of the Temple of Yashin.
Instead of leading him the paved way to the doors of the temple, Robles led Ednon around the side of the massive Alpelite-built structure. There were many in the extraordinarily green gardens, doing various odd jobs. They all watched as Ednon and Robles walked swiftly across the immaculately cut grass.
Eventually, they found Lady Ethna, who was watching a few workers cut down a huge oak tree. She fixed her piercing eyes on Ednon as he approached, a fierce almost terrifying expression upon her face. However, it immediately changed as Ednon made his way to within a couple of feet from her.
“Ednon!” she beamed. “Come to visit us again. Why do we not go inside, out of the heat, and Robles can make us som-”
“I need your help to release Abacus!” he declared loudly, still panting from his running only moments before.
Her face became cold and ferocious. “And why would I do that?” she retorted, as if what he had said was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. “The man is responsible for the deaths of many people throughout these lands and is a known traitor to the human race. Why should I help you allow him to escape justice?”
“Please… he does not deserve death.”
“I have met many people throughout my life, child. Some good, some bad. Some like angels fallen from the sky; others like the darkest of cretins, only upon the world’s surface to enact their own evil ways. Despite this difference, death comes for them both. Death is unbiased, for sooner or later it takes us all.”
“Please, if you could talk to the military, I am sure they would listen to you.”
“My sweet innocent child.” She shook her head. “I am the military. I am the state, the empire and the sovereign. I am our species’ future and its last dying hope. The traitors will be executed before too long… The common folk shall see what happens to people who turn against their own kind. We shall hang an Elder in every city across these lands to remind them what treason brings. It’s not their fault though, Ednon, it’s the fault of your grandfather before you, preaching of a world of co-existence with those vile creatures. So, little one, the next time you journey to his grave, tell him the deaths of hundreds of innocent lives are on his hands. The executions of the ones responsible will bring some justice; of course, all except for that rat Luther, who scurried off into the sewers like the vermin he is…”
“I-” Ednon began. He did not know what to say as he stared back into the young woman’s eyes. Can it be true? Could she really be…
“So, Ed, if you tell me the location of Luther, I shall allow you to visit the murderer you long so much to see.”
“He, um…” He desperately tried to work his brain to find something to say. “He is most likely down south.” Ednon paused, giving himself more time. “He used to talk about how many supporters he had in Lowton and the surrounding villages. If he is anywhere, he will most likely be around those parts.”
Ethna stepped closer, her eyes like those of a hawk as it surveys its prey. “I hope you are not lying to me, Ed. You do not strike me as the kind of boy who tells lies.”
“I’m not…”
“Good.” Ethna gave him a wide smile, before addressing the old Robles. “Robles, did you write down what Ednon has told us?”
“I have, ma’am,” Robles responded with a nod, his pen and notebook in hand.
“Now, Ed, for being a co-operative boy, I shall allow you to visit that pseudo-pacifist you so desperately want to see. Robles shall escort you to the dungeons.”
“What day will the execution take place?” The fear and anxiety in Ednon’s stomach had grown to such a level that he felt as if he were about to puke.
“Not until after Sechen’s passing most likely.” Ethna appeared distracted by the workers cutting down the oak tree. “Ednon, as I told you before, we are not the enemy,” she continued, sensing his jittery state. “We are both human and in this world, that is all that truly matters. Especially now as we increase, making our mark upon this planet, as the Alpelites’ numbers begin to dwindle and as the glorious future of the human race finally begins…”
Ednon followed Robles as they walked through the streets of Asterleigh. He was not sure if it was genuine, but he had an ominous feeling that this would be the last time he would ever see Abacus. There seemed to be no way whatsoever he could prevent the execution. But he suddenly remembered the phantom’s words in the Grand Library, so perhaps it did not matter. The night of Sechen’s passing was soon approaching and when the star and the moon crossed each other, all their endings would come.
As he continued his journeying through the streets, his mind instead went to his grandfather and the words Ethna had spoken about him. She was right, Ednon gloomily conceded to himself. All Ira’s teaching had ever
done was cause more conflict and death. Ednon had never met an Alpelite, but he assumed they were just as blood-hungry as humans. Perhaps his grandfather was not the great man he had once thought. His brother may also have been right all along; a world of two different species co-existing could be a fairy tale that has no place in the real world. Also, maybe Ethna was right to put the Elders to death; they had, of course, committed endless murders, including that of the young girl that he still, even after all this time, could not get out of his mind. It was all wrong, down to its very foundations. Just a bad circumstance to be born in such a place at this moment in time, and because of this star-crossed misfortune, they were all truly cursed.
They had made it into the depths of the cold, darkened dungeons. Robles waited outside, giving him his private meeting with Abacus. There was hardly any light, apart from a few lanterns helping him on his path. Ednon walked down the spiral steps to where the prisoners were held. There were about ten windowless cells in total, all on his left-hand side; to his right, lanterns spread across the old granite walls. He moved down the line of cells, until he eventually found Abacus lying upon the dusty ground. His hair and beard were unkempt, and newly acquired bruises were marked across his face. His eyes seemed full of frailty as he looked up after hearing Ednon approaching.
“Ed…” he uttered in a faint gruff voice, determining who it was that had come to visit him. He struggled to his feet and moved closer to the metal bars, only to be stopped by the chain across his ankle, causing him to give out a loud curse. Ednon watched as the man violently pulled on this tether to try and create more space for movement, but, having failed, he instead slumped back against the wall, an expression of defeat across his battered face.
“Ed…” Abacus repeated, his lips dry and throat rough. “I do not wish for you to see me like this.”
“I had to.” Ednon tried as hard as he could not to divert his eyes from the once proud Elder. “It’s my fault you’re here.”
Abacus shook his head, only half of his face visible in the light emitting from the lanterns, the other half completely consumed by the shadows. “My boy, it’s no one’s fault but my own. My actions and they alone have led me to my current state. I have brought this not only upon you, but my wife and daughter. I fear I have failed Ira, and before too long I am sure he will tell me what he thinks of my failings when I meet him in the great beyond.”
“How have you failed him?”
“The morning before his death, he told me what he was planning to do. He showed me the poison in his hands. I prayed and I begged, but he had already made up his mind – he told me he had many years ago.” His voice was fainter than the winter suns; despite this, Ednon listened carefully. This out of everything was what he needed to hear the most. “He told me to care for you. To watch over you to my death. And to never bring you into our Order. But I failed; I was never one to keep promises.”
Ednon leaned forwards intently, feeling the cold ice of the metal bars on his face. “Why did he not want me to join the Order?”
“He knew what we had become. He knew we had been transformed into nothing but old hypocrites, sitting upon our high horses, our every action a direct contradiction to what we spouted. Your grandfather left our Order soon after he heard the news of what happened to your parents. Something changed within him that day; he was no longer the charismatic hero I knew as a young boy when I used to hang onto every one of his words. It was as if his wings had fallen off and he was human once more.”
“My grandfather had a lot of hate in his heart. He told me that on the night he died,” Ednon said quietly, remembering there were other prisoners down here who might be eavesdropping on their conversation.
Abacus attempted a smile. “Who can blame him? There is one simple flaw with pacifism, Ed, but it is a most important one. We are human beings and we hate. No matter who you are, how holy or progressive you may feel. Deep down, you hate. It’s the sad reality of who we are. That’s what our race is, what it has built its foundations on. We will always find one to take the assault of our hatred. If it was not the Alpelites, we would most likely be hating each other.”
“What do you hate, Abacus?”
“Myself right now…” Abacus said with saddened disdain. “For the pain I have brought upon my wife and daughter. Ed… ” He suddenly spoke, straightening his back and clearing his throat. “Tell them I’m sorry. For all I have done. From now on, you sha-”
“This isn’t the end. There is still hope, Abacus…”
Abacus gave a shake of the head. “Of course this is the end, lad. The military will never allow my release; the dates are set. I will be joining Ira soon.”
“I know who the Supreme Leader is…” Ednon blurted without thinking. “I can go talk to them an-”
Abacus’s eye widened to such a degree it was almost comical. He nervously gave a low hushing sound before his visible eye searched around the darkened room. “Ed…” he said in a voice quieter than a whisper. Like a wild animal hopelessly attempting to break from its leash, he tried to move closer to Ednon. “Ed. Who is the Supreme Leader? You need to tell me.”
“I’m sorry, Abacus, I can’t.”
“Ed…” his voice sounded panicked. “I need to know their identity. Please, lad.”
Ednon gave a shake of the head. He knew what telling Abacus Ethna’s identity would do. And that was to only bring more death to this world.
Abacus appeared to be thinking over his response. Ednon was not too sure as he could no longer gauge the expression of the man whose face was now completely engulfed by the shadows. “Lad…” Abacus replied, his voice sounding as strong as it had for the entirety Ednon had been down here. “We can change the world. We could bring forth peace… all you need to do is tell me the name.”
Ednon took a step back. This was not the man he had known for almost his entire life. He seemed dark and threatening in a way Ednon had never previously experienced. He felt his hair stand on end as if a demon had risen from the rock-hard surface and crawled its way into Abacus’s shell.
“It may be the only way to save Syros…” tempted the voice from the shadows. The hallway was growing darker; the lanterns upon the wall were fading.
“I need to go, Abacus…” Ednon said, feeling his forehead sweat as he stared aimlessly at the outline of an obscured figure slumped against the wall of the darkened cell. “It’s getting late, I need to get back and-”
“Syros?”
He turned his head quickly, but he could not see who this voice belonged to. Feeling somewhat relieved, he made his way over to the wall behind him, got on his tiptoes and outstretched his hand to retrieve one of the lanterns. Now with a source of illumination in his hand, he made his way over to the cell where the new voice had come from. He must be the largest person I have ever seen, Ednon thought, gazing upon the man. With black skin that showed marks of beatings, a completely shaven head and arms each the size of large ale barrels, unlike Abacus who had one chain across his ankle, this man had three; one to the ankle, another around the waist and the last chaining his neck. He positioned himself upright as Ednon cautiously inched closer.
“Who are you?” Ednon asked. “How do you know my brother?”
“Your name’s Ednon, isn’t it?” The calmness of his voice surprised Ednon, who was expecting something much more rough and guttural. “Of course,” the man continued, giving a wide grin. “You’re exactly like him, same brown eyes and same curly hair. Yes, it must be you. My name is Torjan,” he continued, trying to act as dignified as possible, despite his current circumstance. “I was travelling with your brother east, as part of the mass military campaign. We were in the same squadron together.”
Ednon’s heart pounded. “You travelled with Syros? How is he? Where is he?”
“The last time I saw him he was with an Alpelite, travelling east; I was ordered to track him down and kill him, but when the
time came, I couldn’t do it. And that’s why I’m here,” he said, motioning his head around his cell, giving a faint smile, but a genuine one. “But do not worry, the last time I saw him he was still very much alive.”
“He was travelling with an Alpelite? Why would he be doing that?”
Torjan shrugged. “I’m not sure. Perhaps he had a change of heart when confronted with the true horrors of war. Or perhaps he is a natural survivalist. Who knows what truly lies beneath the exterior of our brother.”
“Our brother?”
Torjan lifted his hand and opened the palm, revealing a scar covering the entirety of its length. “He used to speak of you.” Torjan put his hand back down to his side. “And your grandfather also… as far as I’m concerned, he is as much a brother to me as to you. Making you my brother as well.” A sudden cold rushing wind gushed through the dungeon door, blowing out the lanterns’ flames, leaving them all in complete blackness. “Do not worry, Ednon!” Torjan called, assuming this was the signal for Ednon to make his exit. “You will see your brother once more; it’s not in our blood to let people down! Plus, if he does, he will have me to answer to!”
Ednon blindly felt his way across the wall until he found the door of the dungeon. Knocking on it violently, he waited for Robles to open it for him. Panting heavily, he stepped out from the dungeon and emerged into the light. Robles was staring at him intently. However, instead of saying anything, he merely walked up the spiral steps. Ednon assumed he was supposed to follow suit and started to trail behind, his mind not only on his brother Syros and how he was still very much alive, but also on his new brother, three times his size, whom he never before knew he had.
20
Dawn
In the gloomy hours of dawn, the rain drizzled down. The moon had disappeared and all the stars along with it; grey clouds now stretched across the morning horizon. Syros sat awake, watching the rain drip from the leaves. He glanced down to Saniya, who lay bare, sleeping in his arms underneath a large oak. He let out a sigh and continued to contemplate the open landscape. He had a wretched feeling inside him, so much so he felt like crying. What is it she sees in me? he questioned to himself, as he felt Saniya gently moving. He did not understand. He was nothing but broken, so what was it? The feelings of depression grew and the anger along with it. Would it please you, my love, if I could fix whatever it was that was wrong? But would that even still be me? Death had come so frequently over the last couple of months that it no longer felt real. When we die, will we still be together, or is that just foolish thinking? How can I enjoy the time I have now, when the empty void lingers so closely? In death, we are alone. But now he was awake and cognisant, he also felt alone, he always had. There is no point, he solemnly reflected. None whatsoever. The world is ever-changing. Eco systems, relationships, people, even the caterpillar changes into the butterfly, he thought to himself as he watched one crawling on the branch beside him. Everything changes, apart from the emptiness he felt inside himself each day, because that was always there.
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