All Light Will Fall

by Almney King

  “Calm yourself brother!” Uway snapped.

  “You, brother, were always the most favored, by our father and our people… the strongest, the most fair, the most pleasing to look upon… the precious and desired Erinome enamored by the mention of thy name! Why not I, brother?!”

  Uway faced the horizon, blatantly dishonoring him. “You vowed to me Adais that you would cease to pursue him without my company. See now what he has done!”

  “If the opportunity was present, you would have left me behind in the shadows!”

  “So you tell yourself!” Uway defended. He spun around in rage. “But what you say is a lie! Never would I shoulder such a burden without you, Adais! You are my brother! You are my blood!”

  Adais shriveled to his knees, and in one hand, gripped the locks of his hair. His fingers bore deep, as if to tear his misery free from his flesh. “And now what worth do I hold. I am unfit to fight, unfit to lead... I cannot face Desura this way... broken... weak... shalde...”

  I could feel the heart of the Levíí shatter. His pain was shared, and not only by his people. I understood pain. Because pain and I were one. I knew pain as I knew death. And so I understood the Meridian’s longing for that death, for a final ending to his agony.

  Uway knelt before him, bringing their foreheads together in a gentle touch. A pulse of energy burst from the Levíí.

  “Your eyes shall heal,” Uway promised. He caressed his brother’s wound, nurturing the sore area that bled through the bandage. A touch of blue and the arm was healed.

  “As for this... it shall not be the end of you, brother.”

  He gripped his brother’s hand, breathing a sigh of relief when the Meridian responded.

  “You shall wield your sword once again, Adais... have faith brother... Kurios will not forsake you.”

  Uway helped the Meridian back to his tent, leaving his people in silence. There was a sudden hand on my shoulder, and I turned, facing Luna.

  “Allow me to situate you for the night,” he offered.

  I nodded and followed after him.

  He led me back down the hills to an empty tent. The inside retained a refined elegance. It was comfort suited for nobility.

  Luna lit a lantern near the tent’s entrance. The fire casted a rosy light over the drapes.

  “Is it safe to light it in here?” I asked.

  Luna passed his hand through the delicate flames. “Particularly safe,” he assured. “I shall see if there might be a dressing set that will bring more comfort to you.”

  I looked down at my suit, tattered and torn from battle. “Thank you,” I said. Luna nodded, gracefully exiting the tent. He returned moments later with a casual Meridian gown and a shining set of shoes. I dressed in private as he waited for me to finish. The trimmed falls of the skirt were made of a white leather that skimmed the bare of my legs. Pearly beads lined the edges of the top where the curves of my sides were exposed. The garment was masterfully woven and was considered typical feminine wear, but I felt strange within it.

  “Follow me,” Luna said. He led me to the falls and I sat down beside them.

  “Shalde,” I said suddenly.

  Luna turned to me with a questioning look. “Shalde?” he asked.

  “What does it mean?”

  Luna nodded in understanding, his eyes trailing the water. There was silence until he spoke again. “It means disgrace.”

  “Disgrace,” I whispered. It was such a powerful word. I thought of Adais, how he had called himself a disgrace. The word shalde was foreign to me, but hearing it uttered so brokenly from his lips still struck me. Perhaps because I too knew disgrace. I have seen within myself time and again, and it was as Uway had said. There was a darkness in me I could not relent. And it was not there by force. It was there from the beginning. Something I had welcomed with my very own heart.

  I looked to Luna. I wanted to know more. “Igle?”

  Luna dipped his hand into the lagoon and drank the water from his palm. As he did, the markings among his body flared, rivaling the shine of the water.

  “Igle,” he whispered, “is the meaning for one of another, one unknown, one unexplained.”

  “And hai’ek?” I asked.

  He glanced at me. “One of great evil.” He said this with an old pain in his words.

  “You’ve been called that name before,” I said.

  “I have been called by many names,” he replied.

  “Why? What makes you so different from them?” I wondered, nodding toward the other Meridian.

  Luna looked to the stars. “The disparities of this world are perhaps the most spectacular wonders I ever did see. It is the belief that we must all be one of the same, in a single way that defiles that beauty.” Luna turned to me. “You wish to know why I am unlike the rest?”

  I nodded.

  “Because it has been made so. I am who I am.”

  Those words were familiar, and I found myself desperate to remember where I had first heard them.

  I reached into the lagoon then timidly sipped the gathered water as Luna had done. He watched me curiously, raising a brow when I looked to him.

  “What?”

  “Your lips shine,” he chuckled. I tried rubbing them free of the glow but to no avail. “It shall fade by the morning.”

  We were silent again, and I thought about the name hai’ek, the name of my people. Were they my people, ARTIKA and its army of slaves? I was thinking like a Meridian. My people… sounded too heavy, like I had inherited something. But perhaps I had. All of their greed and shame. Did I not carry it with me, and in the eyes of these blessed beings, did they not see it? I imagined they did. Because even though I had tried, I could not break the chains of the past. Those chains of fate were mine to bear now and could never be forgotten.

  Luna escorted me back to the tent. I slid beneath the thin bed sheets and listened to the soothing hum of the planet. As the moments passed, the valdor retired to their tents, and the quiet returned.

  I stood alone, waist-deep in an ocean of blood. A ring of bodies surrounded me, each lost soul submerged beneath the waters. They were lifeless, their solid faces drifting afloat. I knew those faces. I knew them well. They were the souls I had stolen and killed. They whispered my name: “Celeste. Celeste. Celeste.” It was like a song, and I found myself lured by the sound, driven by the dark until I was snagged beneath the waters. Then I was drowning, clawing, thrashing, dying, sinking further and further into the deep, until I was robbed of breath and the steady, feeble beat of life.

  I awoke, a feverish sweat breaking along my skin. I held my breath and calmly soothed the throbs of my chest.

  Distant shouts echoed beneath a mellow patter of rain. I tossed the bed sheets aside and hurried out into the twilight.

  Turbulence plagued the camp. The valdor dashed about each other, their calls like thunder among the rain. Through the chaos, I spotted Luna speaking with a small group of valdor.

  “Luna,” I called.

  Their exchange ended and he turned to me. “You heard the noise,” he said. There was worry in his voice.

  “What’s happening?” I asked.

  “San-Adais. He cannot be found.”

  “And Uway?”

  “Aieti has set out to return him to the grounds. He followed San-Adais’s trail up the mountain.”

  “Are you going?”

  “I was given the order to watch you.” He paced back and forth. I watched his concern swell until he could no longer withstand it.

  “Follow me,” he said.

  The rain fell with haste as we slashed through the jungle. The Meridian’s name echoed tree to tree, the calls of his people deliberately unanswered. Luna moved swiftly. He was invisible in the dark, his bioluminescent markings the only beacon guiding me forward. I wondered where the midnight light of the forest had gone. Then I remembered. It was the seventy-seventh nightfall. The vibrancy of the planet was dying. Niaysia was hibernating.

  “Aieti is just ahead,�
�� Luna shouted.

  There was no need for him to say so. I could sense him myself. Ever since that night in the woods when the mutations of my body threatened death, I had experienced an unexplainable connection with the Meridian, in both body and mind.

  “Ahead,” Luna whispered. A blue torch lit the woods, signifying Uway’s presence. He made no movement when we arrived. He was oddly still.

  “This way,” Uway ordered. He darted into the thicket. We followed him up the ridge of the mountain, spotting an ominous figure lingering near the edge of the cliffs.

  “Adais!” Uway shouted. Never did I imagine that his voice could sound so woeful, so wrecked.

  My eyes, as advanced as they were, could not track the speed at which Uway had moved. He was invisible. He was terrifying. He was impossible. He was a shot of sound, a blaze of light, but impossibly and disbelievingly lacked the haste to reach the Meridian.

  Adais fell, willingly and freely towards a vicious gray sea, his arms gracefully outspread. His descent was as long and endless as the rain of the forest. Uway’s cry was the same; suffocating, quaking the jagged cliffs.

  The Meridian were beside him in seconds. Uway moved in a fantastic blur as he wildly stripped himself of his robes.

  “Aieti, you will fall to your death!” Zurel shouted.

  “I care not!” Uway shouted.

  “Do not be so rash, Aieti!” Zurel insisted.

  Uway wrangled against his subordinates until his sense of clarity returned. The humdrum rhythm of rain was the only sound to be heard. We were stunned, all of us, our gazes fixed on those dark and vicious waves. Perhaps we foolishly thought Adais would miraculously rise from the waters, or perhaps we simply could not gather the truth that he had surrendered to such a gruesome death.

  A lonesome strip of cloth danced above the cliff’s edge, whirling its way into Uway’s hands. The cloth belonged to Adais. It was the same bandage that had nurtured his eyes. Uway gripped the stained material, turning to address his people.

  “We find him,” he demanded, “This is not the end of it.”

  “It pains me to say it, Aieti, but the chance that San-Adais survived...”

  Zurel hadn’t the opportunity to finish. Uway snatched him by the collar, glaring death at him. “I will not hear another word,” Uway hissed, “and until we find him, nothing is certain. I shall not abandon my brother among those wretched waters regardless if his life is lost.” Uway relaxed his grip. “I can hold my faith in you brother?” he asked.

  Zurel nodded. “Always, Aieti,” he assured.

  Uway turned towards the tree line, issuing orders as he went. “Zurel, follow the south path down the mountain. I will travel north of the river. We must be swift. By the end of dawn, he will have washed into Capira.”

  “I shall go with you, Aieti,” Luna volunteered.

  “Nai, Luna,” Uway rejected, “return to the grounds and have San-Ryuel take lead in my absence. I hope to return before first light. If not, continue the march to the west. San-Eris awaits our arrival and I will not jeopardize the lives of his company with such a delay.”

  “The Zurr will be expecting you, Aieti. If you should be absent, what shall I say in your stead?”

  Uway tied the cloth around his forearm then looked up at Luna. “The truth,” he spoke. His words lingered in the quiet as the league of valdor departed into the forest. Once they had gone, Luna and I stared over the ridge of the cliff where Adais had fallen. It was a horrifying plunge. Dark waves clashed against the mountain side, consuming the rock in long and greedy swallows.

  “We should return to the grounds,” Luna sighed. He did a particular sign with his hands, in respect of the fallen Meridian. He whispered under his breath. The words flew softly, vanishing beneath the sea.

  The rainfall had softened by the first light of sunrise. Upon our return, Luna was swarmed by questions. The interrogation was cut short as the second in command came and dispersed the crowd.

  Ryuel was not as I expected. To my shock, the general was female and bore a masculine name. She was a brilliant body of art, the perfect embodiment of beauty and power. The light of her armor fired into my eyes. And when she walked, the earth bowed beneath her in willful submission.

  “Is what you say true, Luna? Will San-Adais not return to us?”

  “I cannot say San-Ryuel. But Aieti shall search the depths of this world to recover our Lord.”

  “I do not doubt that he shall,” Ryuel replied. She glanced my way all of a sudden. “What is this?” she smirked. “The enemy of the enemy, perhaps?”

  She stalked towards me. “Under Aieti’s decree, she is not to be harmed,” Luna defended.

  Ryuel observed me with a look of suspicion. “We shall see,” she scoffed, “but a beast shall always remain a beast. No matter where it may graze or who may alter its name. It is still a beast. And that is simply nature’s way.”

  Luna said no more, his silence an indication of the truth.

  Ryuel raised her hand. “Round your goods before the fall of light. Luna, Queda, Sasun, see that it is done,” she ordered. “We shall soon depart. Let us pray that our Lords do so beside us.”

  The crowd disbanded, filtering back among the tents. “I must leave you for a moment,” Luna said. “Remain here. If you wander, it will only agitate them.”

  “I understand,” I told him. Then I watched him disappear like the stunning shadow that he was. I stood alone in the rain, finding myself lost among a strange and beautiful people.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  DAMNATION

  I returned to the tent and found that a suit of armor had been laid out for me in my absence. It was a masterwork of rose gold, with bright lines of sapphire beautifying the elegant metal. I felt too much of a stranger to wear it. And sitting here, waiting in this native armor on this native land reminded me just how much of a stranger I was. No matter how time passed, I would not belong here. My home was beyond this world, and the longer I waited to return, the more restless I became.

  Time passed slowly. Morning vanished into noon, noon blending to a late midday, and still Uway had not returned. The camp grounds were nearly vacant. Only a few white-gold tents stood among the falls. Maroon rays of light shot from the waning sun, grazing the east highlands and painting the rolling blue hills a deep violet. It was there I saw the hand of God at work. He had to have been there, between those mountaintops and that celestial glint of sky, for I could simply not conceive the possibility of such an accidental and coincidental work of art.

  “In there!”

  I turned to see Zurel storming across the campsite. A band of valdor followed from behind. A black-hooded hostage wrestled against her captors. The valdor shoved her into a nearby tent. The girl was an arsenal, neither a red nor green tag by the looks of it. In other words, she was here for a very specific purpose, and I found myself curious as to what that purpose might have been.

  I spotted Luna as he rushed over to the tent. I hurried onto my feet and intercepted him.

  “What was that?”

  “You will not be pleased to hear it,” he warned. “It is also not my place to say.”

  I should have known. In some ways, he had more virtue then Uway. But there were ways around it, the same way I had used that boy in Fesafaun to point me towards the red wood. I would have to use that virtue against him.

  “Do you not trust me?” I said sternly.

  Our eyes met, and there was a certain hardness in his eyes. “Trust, is too fragile and costly to grant so simply. I hope you understand this.”

  I grabbed ahold of him as he turned to leave.

  “I only need to see if she is someone I know. I’ve lost many of my comrades out here. And they were far more innocent than me. I only need a moment.”

  “She cannot be saved. San-Ryuel and San-Zurel have the authority over her fate, and I must confess, that they do not share Aieti’s mercy.”

  I sighed. “And what if it were your brother in arms? Would you not have
any final words to say to him? And would you not fight to say those words if given the chance?” I urged.

  Luna looked away, watching the lavender falls as if they possessed the answer. “You are quite clever,” he said. “I know this and yet,” he faced me again, “you spared my life before. Perhaps I owe you this single deed.”

  “You will help me then?”

  Luna nodded. “But remember this... if you abuse my compassion... I shall become an enemy unlike that you will ever come to know.”

  “I would never,” I swore.

  “You will not have much time,” Luna said. “I will preoccupy San-Zurel, but only for so long.” Luna scanned the campsite before spotting his target. Zurel stood beside the tent, most likely giving the order to guard the hostage.

  “Wait here,” Luna ordered. “Once I have drawn his attention, take the back entrance.”

  I nodded then watched him walk off. Luna and Zurel shared a few words before he persuaded the general to follow him. Once they disappeared, I slipped unseen into the forest. I could have escaped then. I could have been halfway on the path to home. I should have been, but I found myself moved in a dark direction. I couldn’t ignore it. I wandered a few paces through the trees then trailed back the way I had come. From a distance, I could see the rear of the tent shrugged against the wood line. I forced myself between the trees and reached forward, clutching the tent’s material and ripping it in half.

  I stepped inside. The hostage tilted her head towards the sound of my steps. She stood chained to the wooden post of the tent. Her rugged breaths seeped through the dark hood. My fingers ghosted across it. She flinched, and I gripped the cloth, nearly shredding it from her face.

  From the moment I had entered the tent, I knew that she was a stranger to me. I didn’t know of her and she didn’t know me, yet some strange and uncontainable urge forced me to pursue her. Her dark eyes were on me, and from the stone look on her face, I could tell that she had recognized me.

  “Celeste 2102,” she scoffed. “This must be fate.” There was a bite to her tone. Her eyes were cold and fierce and analyzed me detail by detail. “So you’re one of them now?”