“So, Orah, whose name means light, we meet again.”
Like his envoy, he was no longer content with traditional dress and more red stripes on his hat. Instead, he bore an even more outlandish cape, with threads of silver woven throughout, making the cloth shimmer in the sunlight, and in place of the not-quite-square hat, he wore a crown of gold.
The deacon unloaded two armchairs from a compartment in the rear and set them facing the water. With no furniture to support us, we settled on rocks by the river bank. As I craned my neck to see the usurper, I recalled the high bench of the vicars in the teaching chamber—another way to look down on us.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the envoy waved me to silence.
Children mustn’t speak before their elders.
He cleared his throat and used the temple voice taught in the seminary. “His holiness, the grand vicar, the human embodiment of the light in this world, has invited you here to listen to his proposal. Holiness, please explain.”
Invited us here.
I placed a restraining hand on Caleb’s arm to keep him seated.
The usurper focused his black button eyes on me. “As forewarned in the book of light, you have been seduced by inventions from the darkness, and look where they’ve brought us. You stumble along on a slippery path, but you may still repent before it’s too late. Will you renounce your sins and swear fealty to the Temple?”
I could no longer contain Caleb, nor did I care to.
He stood from the lowly position, seeming to rise forever until he towered over the usurper. “Do you know me? I think not, for I’m not one of your children, nor do I adhere to your superstitions. My ancestors fled your foolishness a thousand years ago, and while you stagnated, we progressed. Thanks to the seekers of truth, we now return, bearing power beyond your imaginings. We demanded this meeting, not you, as a last, merciful chance before we destroy you.”
The usurper’s eyes flitted to the burly deacon who cringed behind him, and he licked his dry lips before responding. “You can’t deny we brought peace to our side of the world. That is, until you arrived. Yes, perhaps we overstepped, but our intent remained pure. What crime in being too zealous in preventing a return to the cataclysm that nearly destroyed our world? I come here with honorable intent, prepared to discuss reforms that may allow us to pull back from the precipice and create a better life for all.”
The crackle that charged the air between us eased, and I signaled for Caleb to sit.
I answered in his stead. “If the reforms are sufficient, and if you’re ready to meet the people as equals, we may find common ground and avoid your destruction. What are your terms?”
His eyes narrowed and widened as I spoke. When I finished, I caught a glance to his right and the hint of a sigh. He motioned for his envoy to respond.
The envoy rose but kept four paces from Caleb. “First, you acknowledge the authority of the Temple to mediate in matters of the soul. You recognize the grand vicar as the human embodiment of the light on this earth, and you continue to tithe, a way to support the good works of the clergy. Anything less than this, and you give us no reason to concede. We will fight you with all available means.”
He paused as we glared, waiting for more. When no more came, Nathaniel spoke. “You offer only terms that benefit you, yet we possess the power. What do you offer us in return?”
The envoy checked with his superior who nodded approval. “His holiness is prepared to accept the following: no more teachings or other harsh methods. The Temple will assume your good will. All disagreements will be settled by a new leadership council, comprised of seven members, four representatives from the Temple and three from the children of light.”
Caleb slid to the edge of his rock, but remained seated. “You misunderstand our relative positions. From the part of the world where I come from, you are primitives. Even your keepmasters are backward compared to us. We can destroy you at will and have no need to negotiate terms. Don’t waste our time. We offer you this one final chance as an act of mercy.”
The grand vicar looked to his envoy, a hint of fear flickering in his black button eyes. The envoy glanced back with a shrug.
They are entering new ground, concessions they hadn’t rehearsed. No more theater for believers.
“Despite your threats, we shall choose the light over your darkness. In the name of peace, his holiness will grant you an even number of representatives, provided you agree to the other terms.”
I’d stayed seated, waiting. Now I rose, so much shorter than Nathaniel or Caleb, but I loomed over the usurper. I’ve come a long way from my teaching.
“No. The seekers of truth demand more. Five representative to your four, or when next we return, we’ll teach you the meaning of the darkness....” I rocked forward on the balls of my feet, coming close enough so that he could feel the heat of my breath. “We’ll teach you to the depths of your being.”
I caught a shudder, hidden beneath the folds of the usurper’s cape.
He signaled to his envoy, a barely perceptible dip of his head.
“Very well,” the envoy said. “His holiness agrees, as long as you accept our final term, without which we’ll fight if need be until the end. We shall preserve the essentials: medicines, communication devices and means of travel, anything to benefit the people. We shall no longer limit what may be read or taught. We’ll make the printing of books available to all, so your precious freedom of thought can flow. Over time, the people will rediscover the past, but at a more reasonable pace, giving time for their souls to mature. Perhaps, in a few centuries, you’ll be wise enough to use this knowledge for good.”
My mouth opened and closed. I began to speak and stopped.
What is he saying?
“But we already possess such knowledge,” I said.
“Not if you agree to this last demand.”
“I don’t understand.”
“To end the violence and return to peace, these apostates from across the forbidden sea must go back to the distant shore—” He glared at Caleb, as if daring him to interrupt. “—and the keep along with your so-called dreamers must be destroyed.”
***
The usurper and his henchman entered their fast wagon, and in a hollow display of power, roared their machine and raced off. He’d given us two days to consider his offer, as once his former master had given Nathaniel time to choose between my teaching or committing his life to the Temple.
We waited until the dust had settled and the stench cleared, and plodded our way back to Riverbend, staying somber and silent until we passed out of sight of the clearing.
By the rock face, Caleb turned to me with a gleam in his eye. “What a fool. He offers a bargain you should rush to accept. They don’t understand the dreamers. They don’t realize they still dream on our side of the sea. They’ll destroy the source of their power, while we lose nothing. The war will end, and all the knowledge of mankind, far more than what lays in the keep, will stay safe and secure in the mountain fortress. You gain peace and freedom for your people at little cost, and none besides the three of us and Kara will know the truth. As for me, I’ll be glad to be done with your world and go home.”
I gazed at the rock face full of wisdom for the ages, and it glared back at me unblinking, with accusing eyes. Unable to bear its stare, I glanced away, past it to the bend in the North River that gave the town its name, and beyond to where the troops awaited, dependent on my good judgment. I owed them peace. We’d won the battle and made life better for all.
Caleb was right; few would know the truth.
But I will know, and the truth I know is that I gave away our future and agreed to a lie.
Chapter 24 – The Essence of the Darkness
I went first to tell Kara about the meeting, since she and her dreamers would be the most affected. I found her in her bedchamber at the inn, as usual tinkering with her box of parts.
She eyed me, trying to read my mood. When I stayed silent, she licked
her lips and let out a nervous laugh. “Well, what’s the verdict? Do we pack up and run for our lives, or fight and die?”
“No need to do either,” I said.
“Then the meeting went well?”
“Well enough. As I hoped, the usurper fears our power and made concessions for peace. Under duress, he agreed to shift control from the vicars to the people, as long as he maintains his position and the special status of the Temple... with a few additional conditions.” I fixed on Kara. “Some will affect you.”
“Such as?”
“If we agree to the new order, they’ll destroy the keep... and they expect us to destroy the dreamers.” When the corners of her eyes drooped, I added, “only on this side of the ocean. They know nothing, of course, about the mountain fortress or the minds that still reside there. And one final demand, that you and all those who sailed here with us be banished from our land.”
She removed the white bonnet, ruffled her hair where the sensors had matted it down, and settled on the bed, staring at her slender fingers intertwined on her lap, like viewing some curiously crafted object.
I gave her time to let the news settle in. “Are you all right?”
She glanced up. “For a moment, I imagined losing my parents for a second time, but they taught me to think logically. The dreamers—including my parents—are nothing more than bits of lightning in a cube, one which itself is a replica of those minds still dwelling in the mountain. If we destroy it, the only memories lost would be those gained from our interactions since we built it. Once I return to the machine masters’ world and reenter the dream, they’ll reclaim most of those.
“The tradeoff you propose makes sense. Your people achieve the freedom you sought and a much needed peace. They’ll take a step back, but over time, the restrictions will ease. We’ll build more boats, trade with you and share our knowledge.” Her lips curled upward into a weak smile, but her eyes glistened. “The worst part is that, at least for now, the barriers that had separated our worlds will return. You’ll stay with your people, and I with mine. We’ll remain apart until the Temple changes, perhaps... for the rest of our lives.”
I settled beside her, and we clutched in a long embrace.
***
Caleb, Nathaniel, and I briefed the leaders, and they spread the news among our troops: peace was at hand, if only we’d agree.
I spent the remainder of the day answering a thousand questions.
Yes, we’d control our own fate.
No, we’d still need to tithe.
Yes, the usurper would maintain his position, but in a more benign role.
No, teachings or other harsh punishments would be banned.
Yes, the Temple would allow us to print our own books, and read and think what we choose.
And most disturbing, in exchange for peace, our friends from across the sea would have to go home, and we’d sacrifice the keep and the dreamers.
That night, a wild wind whistled through the streets of Riverbend. I lay in bed, listening to it howl, straining to catch a hint of what it might portend. I imagined the four horsemen from the hall of winds—desolation, despair, destruction, and death—fleeing from the town, driven out by the power of reason.
How could such reason agree to exile our new friends and destroy the genius of the past?
At last, exhaustion overcame my concerns, and I drifted off into a dream so vivid I struggled to distinguish fantasy from reality.
***
I again climbed the mountain alone at night to the fortress of the dreamers. This time, the lava had not yet cooled, but instead glowed bright red, lighting up the field of flowers and bringing a flush to my cheeks. A heavy stillness lay over the glade, and as I watched, the flowers caught fire and burned to ash.
As I trudged up the final approach, I spotted another change.
The gateway to the dreamers loomed no longer black, but gold like the doors of the keep, and the stairs up to them now counted fourteen and three, with a landing in between. Five cloaked figures waited there in a half-circle surrounding the plaque embedded in the granite.
I drew in a lungful of air and began to climb. As I neared the top, the inscription flew up from the stone and blazed in the air as if ignited by the embers of the lava, making them easy to read.
The five figures whispered these words together, like the breath of the dead: “The greatest truth must be... that in every child is the potential for greatness.”
The first of the figures emerged to the edge of the landing, a young woman whose face seemed familiar, but one I struggled to recall.
“Don’t wrinkle your brow so,” she said. “We’ve never met. I’m Nathaniel’s mother.”
“Why are you here?”
“Because if you make the wrong choice, we both will pay, you with your husband and me with my son.”
“But which is the right choice?”
Rather than answer, she stepped aside and a second figure replaced her: Nathaniel. The wound he’d suffered in the first battle gaped wide, oozing blood with each beat of his heart.
“What should we do?” he said. “A question for heroes. For what we believe in, and for the love we share, make the right choice.”
“What’s that choice?” I said, desperate for the answer.
“It’s not for me to say, but here’s a pair who might help.” He cleared the way for the others.
The next two approached, cowled figures hidden in fog.
I squinted, trying to make out their faces as they stretched out aged hands, beckoning for me to come near.
When I reached the landing, the first lowered his cowl. Before me stood the mentor.
“Study your lessons,” he said. “The answer lies in the pursuit of knowledge.”
The second shuffled forward and joined hands with the first. Her smile shone through the fog—the earth mother. “Choose wisely, my child. Choose the light and the earth.”
The final figure floated toward me on a cloud, and emerged as the spirit of my father. He gazed down at me and repeated his deathbed wish: “Think your own thoughts, big thoughts based on grand ideas....”
“But at what cost,” I cried.
***
The fog swirled and....
Now I walked through the field after a battle. Around me, the wounded moaned, and my nostrils burned with the stench of bodies beginning to decay, but my heart soared. Despite the suffering, our cause had been just, and victory was at hand.
At the edge of the battlefield, a hunched figure lurked in the bushes, watching me.
I crept closer, expecting it to vanish or run away. So familiar, like the old woman I’d conjured up, stalking me on the way to the battle, the one I’d called the essence of the darkness.
An explosion from one of the deacons’ rocks flashed a hundred paces away, highlighting the figure’s features—a woman, for sure, with high cheekbones and flaming auburn hair. Worry lines etched across her forehead and spiraled out from the corners of her eyes, making her appear tired and older than the world.
The earth mother? Too vague to tell.
“Who are you?” My words emerged more breath than sound.
Without answering, the figure came closer and locked eyes with mine, and at once, I recognized her.
The woman was my future; the essence of the darkness was me.
***
I awoke to a pillow damp with tears, but tears for what? For those dead warriors yet to come, or for the death of truth and dreams? For surely, one or the other must die.
I tempered my breathing and switched off my mind, allowing thoughts to flow as the mentor had taught me. The borders of my consciousness fluttered around like butterflies, but beyond these borders lay a dark abyss.
What if at the boundary of our understanding, the light of reason reaches no more, and so we cast a light of our own making onto the darkness and pretend it’s reason? What if that which we see is nothing more than the glimmer of our own hopes, and the shadow of our deepest fear
s?
I slipped out of bed, padded to the window, and gazed up at the night sky. I thought of time that can never be regained, of rivers and tides, of mountain peaks and lush forests, of rain and lightning and rocks and shadows.
All of these are within me.
No matter what, the war must end, though I betrayed both keepmasters and dreamers, and even if I foreswore the future.
A tumult outside interrupted my reverie. The depth of night still reigned, but voices cried out below, and torches lit in the village square made patches of gold flicker on the wall behind me.
I peered through the curtain to find the source, my mind struggling to comprehend what I saw, but the shadows thrown by the burning torches only increased my confusion.
There, before the inn, a gang had gathered of those who had once been friends and neighbors, and farmers and craftsmen from distant towns. These men turned warriors had dragged the black cube out onto the lawn, embellished it with flowers and totems of war, and were dancing around it.
A chant burned in my ears, and at once I knew.
The darkness in our souls will never let us emerge into the light.
Their shouts rang throughout Riverbend. “Defend the dreamers. Save the keep.”
Then their incantations converged into a single, blood-curdling word, proclaimed again and again until it overwhelmed all others.
Revenge! Revenge! Revenge!
PART THREE - Victory and Defeat
“So now is the time for your loving, dear
And the time for your company
Now when the light of reason fails
And fires burn on the sea
Now in this age of confusion
I have need for your company”
~ Richard Farina
Chapter 25 – Revelation
The usurper had granted us two days to consider his offer. If we agreed, the vicars would destroy the keep and we the dreamers. Those who’d accompanied us across the sea would go home, and the children of light would return to a peaceful life under a more benign temple.
The Light of Reason (The Seekers Book 3) Page 16