The Immortal of Degoskirke

by Michael Green

  Andy raised an eyebrow.

  What’s the worst that could happen? He thought.

  He studied the illustrations and read the muscle instructions for a breast plate.

  It’s completely different. I have to tense my core muscles too. How am I going to do that and sustain a sword and shield? I’ll be stretching the Argument from hand to hand and down into my chest!

  Andy felt like kicking the table as he realized exactly how difficult it would be to make any further progress.

  I might as well try. Just the armor for a start.

  Andy repeatedly stopped and started, always to look back at the illustrations. Frustrated, he cobbled together a simple lectern by standing two chairs on each other and leaning his lunch tray on them at a tilt, so the book would lay open for easy reference.

  Andy tensed his midsection and stood in a fighting stance. He felt the Argument struggle to leave his palms, and when it did fill his chest, the slightest flick of a finger seemed to reel it back.

  Andy stood, practicing, for so long that he began to feel lightheaded.

  Just a little more.

  He looked down and saw a steel color shimmering over his chest in the shape of a mangled piece of armor.

  His midsection moved slightly as his neck craned down to look, and the armor morphed with the movement. He tried to take a step and the armor disappeared with a slight pop.

  Andy struggled for hours, stopping to drink and sit while going over the illustrations, which were becoming more complex, the further into the manual he went.

  He looked at his repaired alarm clock and realized that it was almost time for bed.

  Just one more go.

  Andy stood and assumed his stance. He felt his muscles tense just the right way, and looked down to find himself wearing a completed breast plate.

  He tried to maintain the feather balanced tension the book insisted on. He stepped. The armor flickered, but stayed. He carefully walked around the room.

  I think I’ve got it. It’s only one piece of armor, but it’s a start!

  Andy felt the urge to try for a helmet, or maybe even a blade as well.

  He went out into the yard and practiced walking, and then running with the armor. He moved the Argument through all the forms he knew, and found a fluidity to the process. He felt the urge to try mixing the forms.

  I saw Ziesqe with a full suit of Counter armor and a blade once. He even wore regular, metal armor beneath. I can’t imagine how hard that must be.

  Andy felt the urge to rush ahead, but his head was spinning, and his heart felt like it might burst.

  Maybe I’ll try tomorrow.

  Andy took his equipment, and the alarm clock, to bed. With his body tired and sore, he fell asleep almost instantly.

  His alarm dinged.

  “Tomorrow’s not Monday,” Andy mumbled, reaching for the clock and falling out of bed in the process.

  “Damn clock. Why’d I leave it on the table?”

  Andy suddenly remembered why.

  The girl!

  He dressed and tried to get a look at his face in a piece of polished metal, once part of a clock.

  Damn, I need a haircut, and these clothes are the worst!

  Andy heard noise at the door. He dropped the polished metal plate, climbed the ladder, and rushed to open the door. She had already laid the tray down and was walking away. She flinched at the sound of the door opening and sped up.

  “Excuse me!” Andy said, following her.

  She continued walking.

  Andy ran out, passed her, and then stood in her path.

  He opened his mouth, but found himself struck mute.

  Her golden eyes flashed and her red lips curled in an uncertain smile. She clasped her arms in front of her, and the brass sea shells adorning her simple white dress rang with the movement. Her teal skin glistened under the vinlight. She tilted her head and let her long crimson hair fall across her face, as if she were hiding behind it.

  Why can’t I say anything?

  Andy felt his throat tighten as he realized that he looked like a complete idiot.

  Finally, she spoke, “You make immense progress with the Argument. I’m looking forward to seeing you fully garbed for battle. When you kill the ryle, my sisters and I will be there to sing your hymns. Please remember our loyalty in your moment of death and glory.”

  She smiled and walked past. Her hair brushed his arm as she went. Andy wanted to say something, but could barely keep himself from gawking.

  She thinks I’m Caspian, but I told that kid what happened.

  She smiled and waved before turning the corner and disappearing.

  I didn’t even ask her name.

  Andy went back inside, feeling like a fool. He tried to choke through his breakfast.

  She knows what I’m doing. Of course, she’s been watching me.

  The red in Andy’s cheeks refused to relent for the next few hours, and he forced himself through his routine of calisthenics and strength building exercises.

  He found himself constantly shifting to the Sight and looking through the walls and into the nearby houses. He could only see so far, and the process tired him faster than almost anything else, but he continued to do so.

  It’s probably a good habit to get into anyway—for security reasons.

  Andy spent the next few days focused on training his ability to mix the forms, to wield weapon and shield, while bearing a full suit of armor.

  Occasionally he spied a female form through the walls of the house next door. She had been watching him from up there as well.

  One afternoon, Andy took his lunch outside and leaned back on the bench as he ate. He took a deep breath before spotting movement through the window.

  He remained calm and started eating as he shifted the Argument from his palm to his eyes. He cast them over the wall and saw her hiding near the window. She was peeking through the curtains at him. He saw that her muscles were shaking, as if she were afraid, or ready to run if he should look her way.

  Andy blushed and looked away, realizing that clothes were also little impediment to his Sight.

  Andy finished his lunch and passed a quick glance over the window.

  She’s still there.

  He stood up and stretched, patting his stomach to show her he appreciated the food.

  He stepped towards his last two dummies; Andy had long since trimmed the trees well back. He ran through his forms, the illustrations of the manual flashing into his mind as he executed the movements. He played with the blade and made it transform into a halberd, an axe, and even a crescent bladed saber.

  He cast a glance at the window and saw she was still there.

  He went into the fourth form and covered his body in a suit of armor. He felt the urge to split the Argument and tighten his palms to create a pair of blades to go with the suit.

  She would love it.

  Andy walked through the yard at ease in the full suit, trying to fight off the urge to draw blades.

  She said that she was looking forward to this.

  He tightened just one palm, in compromise with himself, and felt his head instantly swim. The blade appeared. He heard a loud crack and felt empty before he hit the floor.

  Andy was falling, but it was like falling through water. His skin tingled like he was being engulfed by a warm bath. The water tugged and he had the sense of pulling away from some shore. His thoughts lolled back and forth, rocking with the gentle surf. He smelled sea foam and vanilla and felt the spray splashing against his face. His head lolled to the side and his back sunk. His mind flashed with the sensation of the Silversight. He saw shapes cloaked in their schematized form. Water sparkled and filled his foggy thoughts. A voice echoed in his mind, reading off the infinite minuscule details that appeared in the place of water when he sunk beneath the surface.

  Andy tried to pull himself up. The urge to take in a breath was suddenly overwhelming and he opened his eyes, heaving. He sat up, gulping for air, and
feeling the sense of emptiness rushing back.

  “It’s okay; you should be fine,” a soft voice said.

  Andy felt a hand on his chest. His vision focused, and he saw the girl with the teal skin.

  Andy struggled with two strong urges: embarrassment, and the need to discover the source of the strange emptiness. He flexed his left palm, but nothing. No light, and no sign of the blade appeared. He tried to stand, but she held him down.

  The Argument isn’t here! I must have lost it when I fell.

  “I need the Argument!” Andy said, sounding more desperate than he expected. He pushed against the girl, trying to stand.

  “Please, wait, just for a moment. I’ll get it for you,” she said, fear in her voice.

  “Can you touch it?” Andy asked, still trying to sit up.

  It looked like she wanted to force him back down to rest, but she was afraid.

  “No,” she admitted.

  She’s shaking. Why? I’m the one with a bump on my head.

  “It’s okay,” Andy said, “I’ll be fine without it, for a while at least. It just feels so urgent. My body is telling me I need it. I’m not used to that.”

  She calmed. “You’ve kept the Argument within for so long. It is said to be like being with God.” She looked nervously over to the door, desperate to leave.

  “Will you tell me your name?” Andy asked. “I want to thank you for all that you’ve done for me.”

  She paused and titled her head in thought. She avoided meeting his glance, but considered him, nonetheless.

  She bit her lip and clasped her hands together. The sight of her slight and graceful movement made Andy feel a plunging pain in his stomach.

  “My name is Ithmene,” she whispered.

  “What’s the problem, Ithmene? You’re acting strangely.”

  “Strange,” she quipped. “You haven’t been back home for so long, and I, of all the maidens, have to attend you. None of my teachers have ever even spoken to a true Seer, much less the Voice of God—”

  Andy interrupted her, “I am not the Voice of God.”

  That shocked her to the point of silence. They stared at each other for a long moment, before she finally rushed to the door.

  “Please! Please, don’t leave me alone,” Andy cried out, suddenly terrified. The crushing loneliness of the past days felt like a thousand hands grasping at every inch of his body. Seeing her leave was like being pulled under the earth by those hands and held tight until all memory of him disappeared.

  She paused, with her hand at the door, and looked back at him. She was crying, and her face contorted, as if he had struck her.

  Andy struggled to stand.

  “I’m afraid,” he whispered.

  “I’m sorry,” Ithmene said, wiping a tear away from her golden eyes.

  Andy held a hand out for her.

  She rushed to him and they embraced. He nearly stumbled back onto the couch.

  Andy felt her arms wrap around him. He felt his mind melting at the touch of another person. His face flushed as if aflame. The mountain of fear that had built up inside was suddenly present. He felt his mouth open and the words were there, as if they had no choice.

  “They put me in a cage,” he whispered. A wave of grief wracked his body. “They chained me.” Andy shuddered and clutched her. “They made me a killer, and I’ll never forget.” He heaved a gasp and felt Ithmene’s fingernails bite into his back as she shook at the words. “Every person I’ve met wants me gone and replaced. People look at me and see someone else. There’s a voice in my mind, the Usurper, and he wants to kill me.”

  Ithmene held him tightly, her own body tensing as she cried.

  “I don’t know what to do,” he finished, breathing heavily and realizing the truth of his words.

  They stood and cried on each other. Andy breathed in gasps, tasting the smell of sea and vanilla in her hair as he burrowed his face into the nape of her neck.

  “What do you want me to do?” She asked.

  He sensed something strange in her voice. He pulled away and, though she tried to hide it, he saw terror in her eyes. Andy immediately regretted what he had done.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said all that to you. A few weeks ago, I was home, with my family, and now—”

  “A few minutes ago, I was sure that you were the reincarnation of Caspian.”

  Andy pulled away from her, realizing that his words, his admission had hurt her.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that,” Andy said, too ashamed to even blush.

  She shook her head. “You didn’t take the Cogito, but you wield the Argument. We are unsure of what to do. You matched so many of the songs. I’ve waited my whole life to see you,” she said, biting her lip, and tearing a rent in her dark orange dress.

  Andy felt his heart ache as the fabric ripped.

  Why did I even open my mouth? I ruin everything.

  “Stop,” he said, reaching out to lay a hand on hers.

  “What do you want from me?”

  Andy was silent until he knew.

  “Just stay with me for tonight. I’m sick of being alone.”

  She nodded, and they sat on the couch.

  “You think that I’m something, something that you want me to be, but you don’t understand what happened. Will you listen if I tell you? Maybe you can make some sense out of it.”

  She nodded. “I would like that.”

  Andy told his story, from the beginning at the gallery, to the moment he refused Caspian and escaped the Guilt.

  She sat and listened, wide-eyed. Then she started singing, so softly at first, that Andy had to lean in:

  Laughing God, o killing God, withheld, our hope renew!

  Hear the foe, now still, now low; loyal voices, dying sighs!

  Take the boy, your Cogito; stand amid the faithful few,

  And fill our ears with their cries!

  Cisterns bulge with purple flesh - yawning jaws on steel rasp.

  Taste the Guilt of vacant hands, turned to naught and withered will!

  Silver eyes, now rouse our lands! They fear those that dare to clasp,

  Dare to seize, and dare to kill!

  Decrying he the mantle, hiding, afraid and alone.

  Dare the boy to step aside, when the ground is rent at noon?

  Steel vinlight is spilt from high! Hordes will dream till all is done,

  Till a blade is raised at noon.”

  Andy was silent, not knowing what to make of the song.

  “We thought that this foretelling was lapsed, that it wouldn’t ever mean anything,” she said. “But since you’ve arrived, it might become true. You cannot step aside, when the time comes.”

  “Step aside?” Andy repeated.

  “No one is sure,” she said. “It might mean accepting Caspian, or rejecting him, however you interpret those words.”

  “I rejected the Cogito, and I won’t subject this city to him. He is a liar and a destroyer. I don’t care how poetic you make it sound; he’ll steal my body and get me killed. It’ll be another pointless attempt to eliminate the ryle.”

  Ithmene reddened, humiliated.

  “Am I wrong? Does he not fail, every time?”

  After some thought, she shook her head. “I don’t care if you aren’t Caspian. The Voice of God chose Caspian, a mere Seer, more than five hundred years ago. Since then he has been reincarnating. Before that, any Seer could be blessed and ascend to be a Voice of God. If things have changed again, we can change with them. The mer are allied to the Argument, and not just its most famous champion. I am married to the Voice of God, and if that is not Caspian, it might be you.”

  Andy felt his breath quickening. Did he hear the word, “married?”

  “I—I’m afraid to ask, but how do you know if I’m the Voice of God?”

  “When Caspian was champion, he declared it loudly, but there were always clues in the foretelling. These songs and signs seemed to be among us, coming in on the lips
of traders and in the song of birds. I just sang the song that predicted you. You spoke those exact words to me, ‘I am so afraid,’ you said. You rejected the mantle, and you live here in seclusion, while the word is slowly getting out.”

  She stood and took his hand, before leading him to the yard.

  “Look up,” she said.

  Andy did.

  “There is the steel blossom. It grows larger every day and the secularist diviners are running out of ways to explain it away. The people in the city know; your old songs are being whispered in corners. Even the high Exegesuits have come out to deny your existence.”

  Andy didn’t realize how much time had passed since he hid himself away.

  “There is fighting in the sewers, but nobody does anything. There are guests from the snake city, and some confused people are saying that one of them is Caspian reborn. They only arrived a few days ago, but they are already the talk of Degoskirke.”

  I wonder if I know any of them. Maybe Quill’s back from the surface. I saw him escape with Letty. Maybe it’s Caston or Poll. They’re military guys; this might be an expedition. I hate to think that I’m causing trouble for them.

  Ithmene continued, “They match a few of the lines from specific foretellings. As a result, they are under watch. The city is on the brink of a riot.”

  Andy shook his head, still staring at the blossom. “People are expecting Caspian, aren’t they?”

  “It is in their blood. The stories we hear—” she paused and looked up, a smile growing across her face. “There was no greater time to be alive than when Caspian walked the scape. The sky lit up for months at a time with fields of silver lightning. The forked bolts shot down and incinerated the ryle in their towers. Fires burned for weeks across the horizon. Flowers bloomed on the surface of every building. The sea water ran clear and tasted sweet.” She laughed, “Two incarnations ago, he opened a portal in the sky, so everyone could watch as he destroyed city after ryle city. He mangled their God and its monstrosities. My grandparents laughed at the Exegesuit guard, tittering, and sewing cobbled sheets together and running them between the buildings, so people couldn’t look up and see Caspian. Sadly, his adventures would only last for months, or a year at most. But, in that time, all creation would change. Landmarks and towns would spring up, new rivers would be born, and the Netherscape would re-parcel its pieces, or be further cloven. People believed that anything was possible. They all believed that this was the time, this time the ryle would be banished back to whatever hell spawned them. People loved his laughter and his handsome face. Just thinking about it gives me shivers—but, he did fail, every time.”