Incarnation: Wandering Stars Volume One

by Jason Tesar

  The elder thought for a moment. “Very well. The one who feeds him will take you. Then you will tell me what you found.”

  Sariel nodded in agreement.

  * * * *

  OUTSIDE MUDENA DEL-EDHA

  It was now well into the middle of the night and Enoch was thoroughly exhausted. The weeks of walking, dodging danger, foraging for food, and troubled sleep had worn down his courage and sapped his strength. He’d delivered his message, perhaps narrowly escaping death, only to be drawn further into this strange and complex culture where he always seemed out of place. Each day, each hour, presented some new challenge. And now, as he neared the gate that marked the boundary of Semjaza’s city, he wondered if the Speaker would consider him just a messenger or part of Semjaza’s rebellion.

  The passage through the wall was darker than before, as the moon sat lower in the sky. With a sense of foreboding, Enoch approached the entrance, knowing that the guards were somewhere near. But toward the end, his fears seemed to dissipate, replaced by a sense of calm. By the time he exited the gate, he realized why.

  Standing boldly at the center of the clearing before the gate, was another angel. Instead of the darker features that he’d seen from the others, this one had radiant, amber skin and white hair, with burning golden eyes. It wore a covering of pure white cloth that fell to its feet, with a wide belt slung across its chest, made of an unknown material that seemed to glow with bands of gold and amber. Enoch couldn’t tell whether it was male or female. And though it was similar to Ananel, Enoch immediately sensed something different about this one.

  “Du eru a spaumadurinn sem Semjaza sandir i hans stadur?”

  Without Ananel to interpret for him, Enoch was left to wonder what the words meant. “I am Enoch of the Shayetham. Are you the Speaker?”

  “I am. And you are the human Semjaza sends to speak in his stead?” the angel repeated, in perfect execution of Enoch’s own language.

  “I am,” Enoch replied.

  The angel eyed him suspiciously, then took a few steps forward. “You are acquainted with the Holy One, and yet you keep company with criminals. How is it that you find yourself speaking on behalf of a traitor?”

  Enoch quickly glanced behind, but the guards gave no indication of being offended. “The Holy One gave me a vision that led me to this place. Now Semjaza sends me to—”

  “Come with me,” the angel interrupted. “We will speak somewhere more comfortable.

  Although twice the height of Enoch, the Speaker walked slowly enough for him to keep pace. As soon as they rounded the bend and were out of sight of the main gate, two other angels stepped out from behind the jagged rocks. Their darker brown tones made them blend in with the cliffs more so than the Speaker.

  Retracing the steps that Ananel had taken earlier, the small group descended the mountain pass until it opened onto the grassy plains. To the west side of the road, several massive figures waited. Being evening, Enoch expected to see tents or temporary shelters of some kind. But the angels, who all bore the same radiant look and calming presence, stood in the open. Perhaps they didn’t expect their task to take long or else they didn’t need to sleep. Enoch thought it was probably the latter.

  “This way,” the Speaker said, heading between the others until he and Enoch were standing on the other side of them.

  “I bring Enoch, prophet of the Shayetham. As you can see, he knows the Holy One.”

  A murmur of curiosity arose from the crowd.

  Enoch wondered how these beings could see that he knew the Holy One. If he were back home in Sedekiyr, this question would consume his thoughts for days. In the back of his mind, he knew that there would be time to consider these events in greater depth, but for now he tried his best to maintain concentration on the present.

  “Tell us, Prophet. Now that you are among friends, how have you come to speak on behalf of Semjaza?”

  At this, the crowd was silent.

  Enoch looked up to the eyes of those gathered and saw a mixture of curiosity and concern. Surprisingly absent was the judgment he expected. “The Holy One gave me a vision of things that have already passed, and some that are yet to come. From this vision came a message, which I was to deliver to the Wandering Stars. And in doing so, I was brought to the throne room of Semjaza. While there, one of his guards announced your presence at the gate. So, he sent me to deliver a message to you.”

  The Speaker’s eyebrows dropped as he looked to the other angels, but everyone kept silent.

  “Do you wish to know the vision that I was given?”

  “No,” the Speaker replied. “That is not meant for our ears. Just tell us Semjaza’s message.”

  “He told me, ‘I repent of my disobedience. I will need time to meditate upon my actions, but I will take council at the break of daylight. Then I will be ready to accept whatever terms he is offering.’”

  The Speaker knelt to the ground so he could look eye-to-eye with Enoch. “Is that all he said?”

  “Yes,” Enoch answered, now worried that he’d left something out. “I … He didn’t say anything else. But if you want to know anything, I would be pleased to answer whatever you ask.”

  “It’s too easy,” another angel said, speaking over Enoch.

  “Agreed,” the Speaker replied.

  “What should we do now?” another asked.

  The Speaker thought for a moment. “It is the way of the enemy to think the worst. For now, we will take him at his word. If he is indeed willing to repent of his actions, we will expect him to comply with our orders.”

  The Speaker turned now to Enoch. “Enoch, will you return into the city and deliver a message to Semjaza?”

  “I will.”

  “Good. Tell him that I accept his repentance and the terms of peace that govern it. Forgiveness is not for me to decide. But we will safely escort him and all of those under his command or influence to the Eternal Realm for judgment. We will wait until the rising of the sun to hear his decision.”

  Enoch nodded. “Shall I go now?”

  “Yes,” the Speaker replied. “These two will escort you back to the gate.”

  The other angels who accompanied the Speaker only moments ago now stepped forward. One took the lead and began to walk back along the road that led into the mountains. Enoch wanted, more than anything, to stay in the company of so many of the holy angels, to talk with them and ask them about their world and about the Holy One. Instead, he obediently turned and followed, with the second angel taking the rear.

  The next hours passed in silence with Enoch lost in his thoughts. He wondered how Semjaza would react to the Speaker’s message. He felt a growing sense of dread at returning to the throne room. Suddenly, his stomach dropped. He had been with Ananel on his first visit. Would the guards allow him entry into the city this time? Would the escorts accompany him?

  As they neared the gate, Enoch saw that Semjaza’s guards weren’t at their posts. It seemed strange, but he was immediately distracted by the realization that his escorts had stopped walking and he was now in front. “Are you not coming?” he asked, turning around.

  “No, little one,” the angel on the left answered. “We will not enter the city.”

  Enoch felt his brow wrinkle and tried to quickly smooth it. “Are you not permitted?”

  “Our reasons are quite complicated. Our answer should suff—”

  The angel on the left looked quickly to the other escort.

  Unexpectedly, they both rushed toward Enoch and lifted him from the road. They pushed him into a crevice in the sheer face of the nearby cliff. It happened so quickly that Enoch didn’t even have time to resist; though it wouldn’t have mattered if he did. Their enormous bodies pinned him against the rock and he was helpless. But in the few seconds of stillness that followed, Enoch realized that their actions were meant for his protection.

  A low rumble moved through the ground and he could feel the vibration in the rock pressed against his face. Through a small
opening between the cliff and the angel’s limbs, Enoch barely glimpsed numerous silhouettes shooting through the sky, their dark shapes only slightly lighter than the backdrop. Slower in speed, but closer in proximity, more tall figures rushed by the crevice opening along the ground.

  “Stay quiet little one,” one of the escorts whispered.

  But Enoch didn’t need the instruction. He knew by instinct to keep silent.

  When the commotion had passed, the angels released their grip on Enoch and pushed themselves out of the narrow crevice.

  Enoch leaned away from the rock and followed his escorts back to the road. “What was that?”

  “We must move quickly,” one replied.

  “It looks like Semjaza only sent you to stall for time,” the other one said with disgust.

  Enoch backed away, now realizing that Semjaza had only asked him to go to the Speaker because he couldn’t move quickly with his tiny legs. “But … I …” he stammered, trying to find the words to express his own disgust.

  “It’s not your fault little one.” The nearest angel stepped behind Enoch and lifted him off the ground, holding him securely with one massive arm across his chest.

  Amid a dizzying cloud of sparks that swirled, then pulled inward, Enoch felt himself suddenly thrust upward into the air. The road and cliffs passed beneath him in a disorienting blur. His head swam and his stomach threatened to heave until he noticed the other escort, who now looked like one of the winged angels he’d seen earlier, was flying beside him. Then he realized that he was being carried by angels who could change their forms like Ananel. That’s when the adventurous side of him, the part that took delight in experiencing the beauty of the Holy One’s ways, could hardly contain his excitement.

  I’m flying. Like a bird of the sky!

  CHAPTER 10

  BAHYITH

  They kept the cursed man on the western outskirts of the village, in a small valley in the foothills of Ehrevhar. The one responsible for feeding him was the man’s wife, whose emotions were unreadable to Sariel. She walked at a brisk pace, while Sariel wondered what she had endured over the past two years. He imagined himself in her place and what it would feel like to have your husband return from a gathering expedition with a sickness. He is then forced to live outside of the village, which meant that you would also have to accompany him. With your status among the Chatsiyram dependent on your husband, your life would also have changed in an instant.

  “Where are the wives of the other men?” Sariel asked, as soon as the thought came to him.

  “They are dead,” she replied flatly.

  “Oh,” Sariel mumbled. “I’m sorry. Did they become sick also?”

  The woman stopped walking for a moment and turned around. Her eyes looked to be on the verge of tears, but the rest of her face remained expressionless. “They got too close and the men killed them.”

  “The sick men?” Sariel clarified.

  “Yes. They killed their own wives,” she answered, then turned and began to walk again.

  “You saw this happen?” Sariel asked, not wanting to be disrespectful, but needing to understand the nature of the sickness.

  “Yes,” she replied, picking up her pace.

  “And now that the other men are dead, it’s just you and your husband. And you haven’t touched each other in all this time?”

  “He’s not my husband anymore,” she said softly without turning around. Her voice cracked a little with these last words.

  Sariel stopped asking questions after this and they continued in silence for half an hour before descending a hill into a wide meadow. Sariel scanned the terrain, looking for a tent or structure of some sort.

  “Where does he live?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

  “This way,” she replied simply without breaking her stride. Following a worn path through the knee-high grass, she walked with the confidence of someone who had made this trip many times before.

  Gradually, the peacefulness of the valley became disturbed by an odd screeching and moaning sound that grew louder as they trekked across the meadow. It sounded like a wounded animal.

  “Is that your husband?” Sariel asked cautiously.

  “He’s not my husband anymore,” she repeated.

  “Of course. I’m sorry.”

  “He is always like this,” she offered, speaking the first words of their trip that were not in response to one of Sariel’s questions. “I believe that the sickness is angry to be trapped in his body.”

  Sariel nodded slowly. I believe you’re more correct than you know.

  Suddenly, the woman stopped walking. In front of her, the grass had been worn down to the earth and only the deep brown soil remained. The path widened slightly and turned around a bend. She looked at Sariel and inclined her head toward the widened path.

  “Is this it?” Sariel asked, lifting his head to peer over the grass.

  “Yes. I don’t know what you think you can do for him. But be careful not to touch him. If he lays his hands on you he will kill you.”

  “Thank you,” Sariel replied to the woman, then stepped past her to follow the worn trail.

  It continued to widen around the bend until it opened into a small clearing of bare earth, perhaps fifty feet in diameter. At the center of the clearing, a low platform of latticed saplings was spread across a hole in the ground and fastened to thicker poles embedded in the earth around the perimeter. Sariel realized instantly what he was looking at, and was disgusted at the thought.

  The moaning and screeching was loud now as Sariel approached the pit. Inching cautiously forward, he could see that the hole was roughly ten feet deep and twenty feet in diameter. The latticed lid was constructed of tree branches as thick as a man’s forearm, lashed together at their intersections with long strands of grass.

  Caged like a dangerous animal.

  Abruptly, a hand shot out from the edge and swiped at the air in front of Sariel’s feet. On instinct, he jumped backward. The skin of the arm and hand was a sickly, yellow hue, covered in dirt. The fingernails were long and jagged, nearly black. Beneath the gaunt skin, bone and sinew could be seen in great detail. Then, the arm retracted and gripped the cage. Something else pressed against the wood and the sound of sniffing could be heard.

  Sariel closed his eyes for a moment to compose himself. When he was ready, he circled around to the south side of the hole to get a better look at the man. As soon as he found a good vantage point, the screaming stopped.

  There, clinging to the lid and the earthen wall on the side of the pit, was a creature that only vaguely looked human. Its long, thin limbs stuck out at odd angles, clinging like a spider to the boundary of its confines.

  As Sariel moved slowly around the perimeter, dark and lifeless eyes tracked his every movement from a bulbous head that swiveled in a cocked position, like a poisonous insect. Its naked and hairless body was cut and bleeding in multiple places, appearing little healthier than the skeletons by the lake of reeds.

  “What do you want with us, Child of Light,” it said calmly, with a complicated sound of several people trying to speak over each other. “Have you come to destroy us?”

  Sariel shifted his consciousness slightly toward the Eternal Realm to see what he was really dealing with. Instantly, the structured existence of the Temporal faded away, revealing three demons that crawled over the spirit of the man, like spiders over the carcass of an insect. They looked slightly stronger than their counterparts by the lake, no doubt due to their living host.

  “What business do you have with this man?” Sariel asked, taking a step forward.

  “You cannot have him!” they screamed in unison. “He yielded to us,” one of them replied alone.

  Sariel looked over the man’s body, seeking a figurine, but he was naked.

  It’s in his stomach, along with the two from the other men!

  Sariel clenched his fists. “Swallowing a figurine does not constitute yielding your will.”

 
One demon chuckled with a raspy cough.

  Another crawled to the front of the man’s chest, its barbed talons digging in as it moved. “The Amatru will never prevail, because they refuse to see the limitations of their own laws.”

  This only angered Sariel more. He had trained for years and fought under the principle that the ways of the enemy were evil, through and through. Yet, he had also lived through countless wars and seen millions of his fellow angels slaughtered. And through the dizzying chaos, he’d come to resent the limitations that were placed on them.

  The limitations we placed on ourselves.

  This resentment eventually turned into wondering how far each side was willing to go to achieve victory. And hearing the demons words only stirred up the conflicting feelings of resentment and loyalty in his heart.

  Sariel took a breath to calm himself, then stared hard at the demons. “I’m going to give you one chance to yield your authority over this man. When I return, if I find that you are still here, I will send you all to the void.”

  One demon snickered at this.

  Another peeked out from behind the man. “If you were capable, you would already have done it.”

  The third simply smiled, its grotesque face distorting into an unnatural expression.

  With his mind racing to provide an explanation for this madness, years of training and experience overtook Sariel’s thoughts and focused them on what must be done to correct the problem. Without another word, he turned and left.

  * * * *

  OUTSIDE MUDENA DEL-EDHA

  Enoch’s excitement lasted only a few seconds, before the escorts left the mountainous terrain and descended toward the grassy plains beside the road. As they glided to a soft and silent landing, Enoch could already see that the gathering of angels was much larger than before, comprised of both Semjaza’s soldiers and the Speaker’s escorts. When their feet touched the ground, the one holding Enoch stayed in a crouching position and lowered him gently to the grass.

  The other advanced cautiously on foot.

  Semjaza and his wingless soldiers encircled the Speaker and his angels, outnumbering them four to one. The unexplainable difference that Enoch felt when in the presence of each was now contrasted in a vivid way. The Speaker and his angels looked out of place. Their smaller, homogeneous group appeared more colorful and orderly, standing out against the nighttime backdrop of the fields. Fully clothed, without weapons of any kind, they appeared vulnerable. Those under Semjaza’s rule were darker and muted in color. Their bare forms were more muscular and varied greatly in size. The parts of their bodies that were covered were clothed in protective raiment that reminded Enoch of the reptilian creatures that nearly ended his life. In their hands they carried a variety of weapons that looked even more deadly than the clubs carried by the Kahyin. These angels were at home in this Temporal environment and, by their advancing steps, it was obvious that they were aware of their advantage.