Archangel’s Ascension

by Pablo Andrés Wunderlich Padilla

  Alec and Teitú smiled. In the Meridian, oro was gold, a precious metal, whereas here, it meant nothing but a name.

  Chapter XXIX – Gardak

  “What’s your plan, Oro?” Alac asked nervously.

  The man, who was getting on in years, doubted Alac at times. That boy’s face, still in the process of maturing, took away his credibility, though the great wings and the small ball of light which followed him everywhere gave him a poise that demanded respect.

  They were walking through thick vegetation. From the heights, Alac might have thought it was similar to the Meridian, but now, as it caressed his skin, he realized the differences. He thanked fate for allowing him such a thrilling experience. Getting as far as this moment had cost him many tears, sweat, pain, and suffering. But he had learned his lesson: nobody chooses his own life, and everyone has to do the best he can.

  “My plan, my lord, is to take you to the Milikins’ nest. But you’ll have to go in alone. I am not accepted in the nest,” he added sadly.

  “Why not?”

  “Because Oro thinks differently. He believes the new king should not have all the women he fancies, nor use them to produce as many children as possible and make an army out of them. But this is what always happens. Every new king does whatever he wants.”

  Alac thought it was fascinating that the foreigner referred to himself in the third person.

  “Forgive my intrusion, but you’re just a boy. Although that armor, those wings… Are you a god?”

  “I’m the God of Light reincarnated, hence my youth.”

  “The God of Light,” the old man mused as he passed under some plants that looked like snakes. “Every one of the four realms of Degoflórefor has its own beliefs, its gods. We venerate Gurtha, the goddess of war and reproduction. To be honest, I don’t believe in her very much.”

  Alac now understood Fuifay’s behavior, one more difference from his own world.

  They reached a plain, very wide and arid, where there was only a single-pointed structure with endless angles.

  “What’s that?” Alac asked, staring. Teitú shone pink.

  “It’s Gardak, the city of the Milikin and the Dakatak. We live communally. The Dakatak create the nest and produce honey which, when it crystallizes, becomes as hard as a rock. From this, we make our armor and swords. Our main food source is the merkas, which grow around the queen of the Dakatak.”

  “Merkas?”

  “Yes. This.”

  From his satchel, which was of a thick material apparently made of tree fiber, he took out a flower that looked like a mushroom with petals.

  “Try it, my dear God of Light,” Oro said. He put a piece in his mouth and offered another to Okrkra. “I don’t have much of it. You can get it only if you live and abide by the rules of the empire. I am not a good servant of the empire, hence I don’t get much of the food. Whatever I get is mostly…”

  “Stolen,” completed Alac. Oro nodded with shame.

  Until then, Alac had not even thought about whether he would need food to keep himself going. It had been a long time since he had been hungry the way he had been as a child, but he fancied trying this substance. He remembered the words of the dragon Nordost, who had assured him he was a demigod and as such had all the limitations of a normal human being, which meant he would eventually need food and to use the latrine.

  Not even gods escape the daily ritual of squatting in the latrine, thought the young man with a chuckle.

  It tastes like the petals of a rose, Teitú said, reading his master’s mind. I wish I could taste it, he added with a quality of emotion that Alac did not understand.

  What’s the matter, Teitú? Aren’t you feeling well?

  No, it’s just that sometimes it’s strange to be able to experience reality through your senses. Everything I’ve lived has been through you, not through myself. Sometimes I’d like to enjoy more freedom.

  Teitú, we’ve talked about this. I understand, but I think that for the moment we’d better concentrate on resolving this situation, don’t you think?

  Very well. Let’s go.

  “And what is that?” Oro asked, pointing at Teitú.

  The old man was beginning to feel comfortable with Alac.

  “He’s my best friend and faithful servant. His name is Teitú. Without him I’d be—” The God of Light broke off; maybe he was saying too much. “He’s a Naevas Aedán. He’s helping me to fulfill my mission,” he said firmly.

  “And what’s that mission?”

  “I can’t talk about that unless you want to die,” Alac replied with perfect calm.

  “Then I’d better keep quiet.”

  Okrkra made a guttural sound.

  “My good friend says that it’s obvious you have a great heart,” Oro translated. “That you wouldn’t kill anyone just for the sake of it.”

  “Tell Okrkra not to underestimate me.”

  “Here I stay, my lord,” stated the old man. “Otherwise, I risk being decapitated by the king’s Dakatak. Meromérila must be in one of the dungeons in the deepest levels of the nest.”

  “Thank you, Oro,” the God of Light said. When he turned around, he bumped him with his wings. “My apologies.”

  “My life is yours, my lord,” the old man replied with a smile and a reverent bow. “What should I do?”

  “Continue living with good ethics and morals, trying to do good, bringing peace and ease to those who suffer, and if you can, correcting wrongs. It’s a lot to ask, I know, but as the God of Light, I can’t ask any less of you.”

  “So be it, my lord. I hope that when I see you again, you’ll find me in a less miserable state of life.”

  Alac flew off. Oro watched him disappear into the sky, among the dense clouds.

  Chapter XXX – Meromérila

  We need to make ourselves insubstantial to avoid either being seen or interfering with the life of this world, Alac thought as he flew over Gardak and began to work out a strategy. The city made of resin was gigantic; its brown crystal structure, pointed as though it were made of pieces of metal and pins, made an effective protective shell. It looked like a wide-based spire piercing the heavens.

  You’re right, Teitú agreed.

  The God of Light became diluted, like a ghost, and entered the insubstantial world of the Interim. Around him, everything was green. And there was something else. A colossal spirit circled the heights.

  A dragon!

  The beast was enormous, twisting violently above the city of the Milikin like something insane. It appeared to be suffering. Moved by compassion, Alac rose toward the dragon. In the world of ghosts, he felt lighter, and flying became easier.

  “Hey, you! What are you doing here?”

  The white dragon opened its jaws, and its wide eyes revealed an inconsolable madness. “Róganok!” the white dragon cried with such fury that it frightened the God of Light.

  “Who is Róganok? You?”

  “Róganok!”

  Let’s go, Teitú suggested. He’s suffered a lot, and I think it’s driven him insane forever.

  You’re right, Alac said. He turned back toward the city of Gardak, determined to accomplish his mission.

  ***

  He landed on a wide platform where the center was a structure of the same material as the city: a crystallized resin from the honey made by the Dakatak. Alac folded his wings. At once, a squad of ten soldiers came marching by in perfect formation without a captain to lead them. Then another, and another.

  They were Milikin, but some squads were made up only of Dakatak. Several insectoids were working on the walls and cleaning the floors, but these were not like the warriors Alac had seen. They were smaller, as though undernourished, and some even had one or two legs missing.

  The God of Light’s attention was attracted by the Milikin. Their bodies were very similar to those of humans, although the color of their eyes and hair was different, and the angles of their features were more marked.

  He went into the
city of crystal, fascinated by the complexity of the structure. A corridor forked, leading to other wide chambers. He walked on until he found himself in a majestic room, as high and vast as the whole of San San-Tera.

  The Dakatak were patrolling in groups of three. They were dressed in green, and each carried two long spears in their upper limbs. They scanned the surroundings with their triangular heads and their six eyes, alert to any sign of danger.

  The sound of a whip split the air. Two uniformed Dakatak were whipping another Dakatak that wore no uniform. It must be a slave.

  In the distance, some Dakatak in red were guarding a stair. It must be the one that led to King Fuifay’s rooms. Oro had told him that the dungeon where the princess was held was very far beneath the ground. There was no time to be lost, Alac told himself.

  Teitú, are you there?

  More or less. You go on. I think I can hear Meromérila singing.

  Take me to her.

  The place was immense, a labyrinth. The most disturbing thing was that all the corridors and halls were identical with smooth walls and floors and without anything to distinguish one from another. The Milikin seemed to have little inclination toward art or any other means of expression; instead, at first glance, they revealed few interests apart from war and reproduction.

  If it had not been for Teitú, Alac would already have been lost. He came to a darker place, although a faint amber light filtered through from somewhere. He could hear guttural laments. Around him were thousands of microcells, extremely narrow, from which there issued a strong stench of putrefaction. The demigod walked along the corridor, invisible among the Dakatak patrols. He stiffened when he heard Meromérila’s voice. He let himself be led by the melodious sound until he reached a dungeon buried under crystal from which arose that song of eternal sadness. Teitú translated for him:

  Suns and moons shed light no more on me,

  my song, my inner vision I no longer see

  painting the thousand words I shed in tears,

  for a love that never was, those many years.

  My soul is turned to regions far away

  where my love no longer dwells; accursed, here I stay.

  Weeping interrupted the song. Alac’s heart sank, for he recognized that tragedy. He leaped down lightly into the hole. He broke his fall with his wings so as not to frighten the princess, who could not see him. But she stopped crying and reached out with her hands as if she had perceived the demigod.

  She was completely naked. She was so thin that her bones stood out under her skin, which was marred by cracks and ulcers because of the prolonged lack of hygiene. Her movements revealed her physical weakness. Her abdomen was lax and swollen, and on the floor were recent traces of afterbirth.

  Alac remembered what he had seen of his birth in the mirror of the Black Queen of the Morelia Abyss. The demons of Némaldon had murdered his mother, and the plan had been to murder him too. He still did not know who his mother had been. He felt a stab in his ribs, the burning desire to seek revenge.

  He left the Interim to return to reality. The green light melted into the darkness of the dungeon.

  “Is it you? The God of Light?” the princess asked in a broken voice.

  A red light began to glow in the room. It shone from Teitú. The princess had to cover her eyes.

  “I knew it was you,” she said with a shy smile.

  “I’ve come to—”

  “—save me!” she cried.

  She got to her feet with great difficulty to thank him. She would have hugged him, but the poor slave was aware of her miserable condition.

  “Ah,” the God of Light muttered at last, “I don’t know.”

  Suddenly, he had doubts. Had he come to save her?

  He mastered his emotions. “Before I can, I need to know about an oracle or someone who can give me more information.”

  The princess could not hide her chagrin. “So you haven’t come for me…” Her purple eyes moistened.

  “The universe is in danger, Meromérila. I must find this oracle so that I can understand how to confront the evil that will soon destroy my world. But not just my world… I can assure you that this evil wants to destroy the whole cosmos.”

  The princess bit her lip. “The Times of Chaos has returned,” she muttered.

  “What?”

  “The Times of Chaos has returned,” she repeated.

  “Tell me more, please. Are you the oracle?”

  “No, but I know enough. The Black Queen of the Morelia Abyss. She’s the oracle.”

  Astonishment stole over Alac’s face. “How do I find her and in what world?” he asked. “How do you know this?”

  “Let’s say I was blessed with many abilities, one of which is knowing the flow of time, space, and the events of the past and the future, but I don’t know as much as the Black Queen. And don’t be surprised, but she’s always been in your world.”

  “Where?”

  “Her planet was destroyed during the Times of Chaos, but she lives in a mirror. Find the mirror, and you’ll find the oracle. And now help me get out of here, please. Take me with you, take me out of these dungeons, far from Fuifay. You have no idea what he does to me!”

  “That could start a war between your king and me,” the God of Light protested, grieved by the dilemma. If he decided to intervene, there would be consequences.

  “Not if you don’t let them see you. You can make yourself invisible, go very stealthily, the same way you did to get here.”

  The princess moved him so much that even if he had been made of stone, he could not have remained whole.

  “But I can’t—”

  “Then you’ll have to kill me because I can’t bear it anymore. This isn’t life, it’s torture. If you don’t kill me, I’ll do it myself.” She pointed an accusing finger at him. “And it’ll be your responsibility.”

  Alac felt he was trapped at a crossroads, unable to make a decision. Being the God of Light put him in a lot of complicated situations.

  “I can’t save you. I can’t intervene in what doesn’t directly concern me. I don’t belong to your world; I don’t even know it. I might unbalance it and perhaps other worlds as well. I’m sorry, I can’t intervene. I wish justice may come to you and make the king pay for enslaving you. Try to understand me; I can only do good, not foment chaos and revenge.”

  The princess looked at him for a moment, unable to believe these words. Then she bent her head. “You’re right,” she whispered. “But if you leave me here, I’ll take my life, I swear it.”

  “Everyone decides what to do about their own life. If you kill yourself, you’ll face the judgment of the Goddess of Night, and she won’t be merciful.”

  As soon as he had finished his speech, Alac turned insubstantial again to journey back to the world of the Interim. The dungeon was left in darkness. The princess screamed, and her sobs alerted a couple of Dakataks, who came to order her to be quiet. The princess did the only thing she knew to drive away despair: sing.

  Suns and moons shed light no more on me,

  my song, my inner vision I no longer see

  painting the thousand words I shed in tears,

  for a love that never was, those many years.

  My soul is turned to regions far away

  where my love no longer dwells; accursed, here I stay.

  Chapter XXXI - The Black Queen of the Morelia Abyss

  It was nighttime in the Meridian. Alac could never have imagined that the answers would be in the village he had grown up in. As he neared it, he remembered his childhood, his family, and he felt a tightening of his heart. Tears welled up in his eyes.

  He was shocked by the smell of burning. It was inevitable that he should find himself recalling those days of destruction, and he was immediately alert. Teitú shone an intense red. The demigod shielded himself with his armor and came down like a missile, ready to face his enemies. But when he landed, he noticed that there was no fire, only silence and the cold caress of
the wind. He took to the air again to inspect the place. His armor shone with pristine light. He saw that the village was completely ruined and forgotten. Dead bodies were strewn all around in various stages of decay.

  The terror has begun, Teitú said.

  All the more reason to redouble our efforts, before everything falls. Alac landed in the central park. We’ll go to Ramancia’s to look for the mirror.

  Let’s go, Teitú replied, full of resentment—something Alac failed to notice.

  ***

  As they passed through the ruined streets, the powerful light that radiated from Alac’s armor dispelled the darkness of the night. Teitú had regained his calm and was now giving out a pink light. He soon recognized Ramancia’s house. It was burnt to the ground.

  Wait, Teitú said. The mirror isn’t in this house.

  So where is it, then?

  I mean that neither the mirror nor those strange passages were ever in Ramancia’s house. They were in another dimension. Let’s go into the Interim and look there.

  What’s the matter, Teitú?

  What do you mean?

  You’re tense as if something were bothering you. Is it because of me? I don’t mean to; it’s only that we can’t afford to linger.

  It’s not that. It’s just that…

  Tell me. You can trust me, Teitú.

  It’s just that—it’s just that I want to feel the world with my own being! I don’t want to depend on you any longer so that I can live!

  There was a deeply-charged silence before Teitú went on. In my short existence, I’ve been searching for the meaning of somebody else’s life—yours! Helping you to be who you are! But what about me? Who am I? Where do I come from? Who are my parents? Where’s my land? Do you understand?

  Alac thought for a moment. Teitú was presumably going through an identity crisis. He had experienced many of those and was well aware that it was not a pleasant experience to find yourself doubting everything around you.

  My dearest, my wonderful guide, my partner. Your words have touched my heart, and I’d love to come up with a solution. But the Empire is in danger. We need to prevent a great number of innocent deaths. We can’t let that happen.