by Jason Tesar
“This is Arar Gahiy?” he asked his guides.
“Yes. Reeds grow tall near the water. Good for building roofs,” one of the men answered. “We will sleep here tonight and you will go in the morning.”
“Very well,” Sariel replied, anxious to get started despite the growing anxiety with each step closer to this mysterious place.
~
After a fitful night’s sleep, Sariel rose early and sat on the rocks overlooking the valley. He was still trying to get used to the human form he wore. He had never slept before coming to the Temporal Realm, but found that his body tired quickly in this habitation, so it was a necessity. So too was food, as his body grew hungry after only a short time without nourishment. He knew all these things, of course, before crossing over. But knowing and experiencing were very different.
When his companions woke, they handed him a small bag with some dried fruit.
Sariel understood this to mean that he was expected to leave, so he did. Making his way down the mountainside, he moved slowly through the forests until he reached the grassy foothills again, nibbling on some food to fight off the hunger. By midmorning, he reached the east side of Armayim, the Lake of the Curse. He could see what the young men meant about the reeds. Standing at twice his height, the thick green shoots were clustered densely in the shallows at the water’s edge. He walked casually, regularly shifting his consciousness slightly toward the Eternal, giving himself the best opportunity to discover what inhabited this area and what might be out of place. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be looking for; Sheyir’s father didn’t say why he considered the valley to be cursed. Sariel had questioned the younger men during their journey, but all he was able to ascertain was that this valley used to be a place where the young men came to gather building materials. The Chatsiyram knew something that they weren’t sharing, and this was Sariel’s test. If he really did possess dathrah, as they thought, then he should be able to tell them why the valley is cursed.
Shortly after mid-day, Sariel was moving around the northern end of the lake when he saw a flicker of shadow among the reeds. Moving cautiously toward the water’s edge, he found a sandy shore that had been cleared of vegetation. It appeared that the reeds had been harvested from this side of the lake some time ago. Looking left and right along the shore, he found nothing. Then he noticed something sticking out of the water a few yards in.
Choosing his steps carefully, he waded out into the shallows. It didn’t take long before he found something that he’d never seen before and it gave him a sickening feeling in his stomach. Just below the surface, human bones lay half-embedded in the sand. Their lifeless skulls looked eternally up at the sky through hollow eye sockets. The long, narrow bones of hands reached outward, as if pleading for someone to bring them back to life.
Sariel shivered. He had seen many deaths among the angelic races, but never a dead human. Though not immortal, their lifespan was still nearly a thousand years. In fact, the first humans were still alive to this day. He’d only heard of them dying by accident and had never seen it first-hand. Yet now he looked down on several and it broke his heart. Sariel slowly shifted his consciousness toward the Eternal and immediately, his body went rigid.
All around him, demons swarmed, screaming and wailing with mournful cries.
He backed up a few paces and stared in disbelief.
Their appendages were thin, their abdomens distended, and they flailed about as if in pain. Their coloring, which was normally blacker than the darkest night, looked sickly gray with blotches of white and pale green.
“Ikthier manom hatda! Ikthier manom hatda!” they screamed in discordant unison.
Baffled by their use of the Kahyin language, and their presence in this realm, Sariel remained silent for a moment, watching them swarm over the human skeletons like flies over refuse.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded finally.
The demons shrank back in fear, but their initial reaction quickly changed. “We might ask you the same question,” one retorted.
“Yes, what are you doing here, Child of Light?” another asked. “This is not your home.”
Sariel ignored the questions. “You have been banned from this realm,” he stated.
First one, then the rest began to laugh. It was a grotesque sound, like a wheezing bark.
Even without their cooperation, Sariel was gleaning useful information. He noted that the creatures’ movements, though awkward by their perverted nature, also seemed confined to a certain location. As their spiderous forms crawled, then floated through the air with the look of dissipating smoke, each one moved through a space that roughly coincided with one of the human bodies. They passed through the air and even down into the water and earth beneath the bones, but never elsewhere.
Their starved appearance also suggested that the source of their strength was depleted. Sariel looked again to the dead humans lying beneath the water.
Impossible!
Long ago, the demons were prevented from existing in the same realm as humans. From that point forward, their only interaction with the Temporal came through manipulation of a being’s spirit, which existed in a realm partially accessible to them. But no human would, or even could, consciously yield their bodily existence to a demon. Humans simply didn’t have control over their own spirit in that way, and most weren’t even aware of this part of themselves.
Pick them up! Pick them up!
The demons’ words echoed in Sariel’s mind as his gaze remained fixed on the bones. Just then, something in the sand caught the light of the midday sun. Sariel squinted at the reflection, then quickly pulled a short, thin reed out of the marsh by its roots. Snapping the stalk, he used the makeshift pole to reach toward the sand beneath the water.
“No. No!” the demons screamed. “Take it for yourself. You don’t need a stick. Are you afraid? Is the Child of Light afraid of a shiny rock?” they mocked.
Probing in the sand, Sariel brought something golden to the surface. It shined like nothing else around it. He took one careful step forward and peered down into the water to see a small figurine fashioned from gold, in the form of a predatory land animal.
Humans don’t yet know the art of working metal! Someone made it for them. Or showed them how to craft it for themselves. Which means …
Sariel’s mind raced to conclusions which contradicted what he already knew to be true. As his mind struggled to comprehend what he was observing, he also noticed a braided thread that was strung through a hole in the top of the statue. Pushing his reed into the sand, he lifted the golden object by its thong and held it in the air, where it swung and rotated, catching the light of the sun.
Immediately, one of the demons rushed forward and tried to hold it, though its hands passed through it like mist through a forest.
“Take it,” it said. “You can have it if you want. The humans don’t need it anymore,” it sneered.
Interesting.
Without touching the figurine, Sariel used the reed to fling the cursed object far out into the field, away from the lake.
Just as he suspected, one demon was forcefully dragged through the air, leaving traces of putrid green swirls in its wake. The figurine landed with a bounce among the tall grasses while the demon involuntarily mirrored the movement, jolting and tumbling as it went. When the figurine came to a stop, the demon tried to regain its bearings, shifting its gaze quickly around the new territory with an excited but disoriented look in its dark eyes.
Sariel spun around to face the others, who looked as though the pleasure of their secret was just stolen. “Who are you working with?”
The demons shrank back in fear, but remained silent.
“Who made these?” he demanded, assuming there were more figurines beneath the sand.
One small voice replied, almost a whisper. “We don’t have to tell you anything.”
Sariel locked eyes with the creature and scowled. “Of course you don’t have to. You always ha
ve a choice. But I can affect your choices. Tell me what I want to know, or I will make your already pathetic existence even more painful.”
The demons weren’t moving anymore. Their sharpened claws were embedded in the sand; their silent forms crouched as if ready to attack.
“WHO ARE YOU WORKING WITH?”
Their faces slowly distorted; fanged mouths stretching into smiles of pleasure.
Sariel gritted his teeth. It seemed that while he had been fighting futile, but straightforward battles in the Eternal Realm, the war had spread to the Temporal. The questions racing through his mind, and the creatures facing him now, were confirmation of the fear that had been growing exponentially in his heart. This war was already far more complex than the Amatru were willing to admit.
Ending the existence of these horrid beings would have been as simple as shifting into their location along the spectrum and crushing their fragile bodies with his bare hands. But these demons represented something significant, even if he didn’t yet know what it was. His days of acting before thinking were over.
Backing away, Sariel shifted his consciousness fully into the Temporal and watched the sickly bodies fade, replaced by the calming vision of the rippled water on the lake surface.
* * * *
NOWD*
Enoch wasn’t sure what the elder had said to the hunters. But whatever it was, it made a big difference in how they treated him. After being hunted like an animal, tied, beaten, and stripped of his clothing, they now bathed him, dressed his wounds, and fed him. After several confusing days of this behavior, they painted his skin in white ash like the elder, with large swatches of red river clay around his neck and abdomen. Then, he and another group of men set out from the village and marched east toward the mountain. This time, his wrists weren’t bound, and he wasn’t poked and prodded like an animal. Instead, they showed him honor as if he were a special guest.
For more than a week, Enoch traveled with three men in front of him and three behind. They no longer wore the head coverings of their hunting dress, but a simple draping of reptile hide over their shoulders, which fell across their chests and backs. Amidst dense thickets and tall trees, they pushed through the rolling landscape, always climbing in elevation toward Gadol Har-Marah. On the eighth day, the land jutted upward at a sharp angle, signaling that they had reached the base of the mountain. Then, they began to climb, single-file, up a winding path worn into the packed soil. Sometimes it was necessary to climb on hands and feet over boulders and up large cracks in the side of the cliffs. By the time the path leveled out, the sun was already beginning its descent and Enoch was exhausted.
The men simply smiled, patted him on the back, and continued forward into the trees. Passage was easier now that the land was level. And when the forest overhead parted enough to see the sky, Enoch could make out a thin line of white water meandering down the sheer face of the mountain. From somewhere, the faint sound of rushing water could be heard.
“Where are we going?” he asked again.
“Hetha thud-eyuk. Hetha thud-eyuk,” they repeated for the hundredth time, waving him forward.
Minutes later, the forest began to clear as they approached a small lake that butted up against a sheer rock face on the east side. Against the dark, gray stone was a white swath of water, cascading down from the heights above and falling into the lake. Though little could be heard above the rushing water, Enoch knew that all else was silent. This place was special; he could feel it.
One of the hunters spoke to him again and Enoch nodded his head and smiled, understanding nothing except that they wanted to keep moving. Then something caught his attention and he abruptly stopped walking. A short distance ahead, the southern shoreline of the lake sloped gently toward the water except for a large, flat area of rock which stood several feet above the waterline. At the center of this area, a thick, wooden pole rose from the ground, the diameter of a man’s body. Whether it was a tree without limbs growing from the stone, or a pole planted by human hands, the ropes hanging from it revealed its purpose. The blood-stained rock beneath it and the shallow trench leading toward the water made his body go weak in the knees.
“Hetha thud-eyuk,” they said, looking back at him.
Enoch couldn’t believe his eyes, or prevent his head from swaying side to side. “No,” he whispered.
“Nuhana heya dakribun honekha,” one man said with a furrowed brow.
Without warning, Enoch was pushed from behind.
“NO!” he screamed, as he slipped on the loose soil and fell.
At once, several hands were on him, restraining his flailing arms, lifting him from the ground. They were incredibly strong, and Enoch could do nothing as they carried him to the pole and tied his wrists with the rope.
Once Enoch was fastened in place, the men backed away, frowning as if confused by Enoch’s reaction.
Enoch hung from his wrists. His toes barely touched the ground, not enough to support the weight of his body. Everywhere he looked, he saw the dark brown stains of blood. On the pole. In the crevices of the rock beneath him. On the rope. Old blood, shed over the course of years. He knew now that he was to be a sacrifice to whatever spirit they hoped to appease. Out of instinct, perhaps out of spite, Enoch immediately closed his eyes.
Holy One of Heaven. Do not forsake Your servant, he pleaded. You have always been with me, even when I was a child. You spoke to me and I listened. I have come into this strange land, among these strange people, at Your request. I wish only to be obedient to You. If it is Your will that I die in this way, then so be it. But how could You be honored with actions such as theirs?
Enoch opened his eyes, expecting to see a weapon of some kind. Instead, the men just backed away toward the trees, their faces now without expression.
Certainly, they do not worship You, but some other thing? Certainly, You are not pleased with their actions? Their wickedness is proof of their ignorance. Does this not bring You to anger? Save me. Do not let me die at the hands of these lost people. They practice wickedness because they do not know You. Do not let them slay me, for they will have learned nothing but to continue in their wickedness.
A sharp screech cut through the air. Reverberating off the water and stone, it brought an end to Enoch’s prayer and clouded his mind with fear. Like the calls of the hunting party when they took him captive, and the shrill cries of the women when he entered their village, this noise conveyed meaning. Something terrible was about to happen. But this sound was stronger, purer, clearer. And now he realized that the calls of the Kahyin people were only pale imitations of this sound. In his mind, he saw the hides on their backs, the spines protruding from beneath the skin. He could see the length of the teeth in the necklaces that the women wore around their necks. He could see the fanged skulls that the hunting party wore on their heads.
In the trees across the lake, something moved.
Enoch’s imaginings were gone now as his eyes scanned the tree line, looking for a very real threat. Again, he caught a glimpse of something farther to the south.
It was moving.
Craning his neck to see past the arms that blocked his vision, Enoch looked behind him. The men were gone. But in their place were two large reptilian creatures, slightly larger than a man. They walked on four powerful legs and looked agile enough to leap the entire seventy feet between them. The scales of their hides were interrupted by pointed spines which ran in rows down their backs and tails.
Enoch suddenly couldn’t breathe, choked by his own fear.
The creature on the right raised its long, narrow snout and sniffed the air. Two quick and loud inhalations.
“Ahhhh!” Enoch screamed, louder than he’d ever screamed in his life.
The creatures began to stalk forward.
Enoch continued to scream.
Their putrid stench entered his nostrils, making him gag and cough repeatedly.
They were within reach now, circling slowly. The one on the left raised its a
ngular head and opened a wickedly fanged mouth, letting out a wail that could have been heard all the way back to the Kahyin village.
With his body shaking, Enoch closed his eyes again.
Holy One. The time is now at hand. Do not leave me in my time of need, for I am about to endure the most difficult task of any that You have set before me. Stay with me, for I will also be with You soon.
The hot, humid breath of one creature could be felt on his legs.
Enoch kept his eyes shut and held his own breath, trying to keep down the bile that was rising in his throat.
All of a sudden, a barrage of noise ripped through the air, sounding like a mixture of a howl and a snarl.
In the resulting silence, Enoch opened his eyes.
On the shore was another creature. Thick, gray hair covered its entire body. Its long snout was curled up into a snarl, revealing sharp teeth. Its bright, golden eyes held an intensity that seemed to look right through Enoch’s soul. Even crouching in an attack posture, this four-legged mammal was obviously much larger than the reptiles.
Holy One. Save me from these foul beasts!
With the interruption of their meal, the reptiles turned and moved away from each other. Spreading out, they cautiously approached the threat, hissing and clicking to each other as they moved forward.
Enoch glanced from the reptiles to the third creature, then back again, wondering which would end up tearing the flesh from his bones.
The gray-haired animal howled again and pounded its front paws on the ground, refusing to give ground to the reptiles.
In response, the reptiles exchanged a rapid series of clicking noises, then unexpectedly leaped in unison.
The mammal dodged quickly to the left and reared up to the nearest attacker. Their jaws just missed each other as the mammal sank its teeth into the neck of the reptile and spun, using its larger weight and the momentum of the attacker to throw the reptile toward the shore and into the path of the other.
The scaled beast on the left came to a sliding halt on the stone, its neck torn open. Blood poured from mangled flesh and spilled out, staining the bare rock. The remaining reptile floundered as it tried to step over, then around the body of its fallen partner.