The Godling Chronicles:Book 05 - Madness of the Fallen

Home > Fantasy > The Godling Chronicles:Book 05 - Madness of the Fallen > Page 8
The Godling Chronicles:Book 05 - Madness of the Fallen Page 8

by Brian D. Anderson


  Gewey caught his breath. His child? The next thought bounced painfully around in his head. Then the ball of light. It was…it was me. And....

  “And Gerath could not bear the sight of you,” said Melek, finishing Gewey’s thought.

  The sharp sting of rejection stuck in Gewey’s chest. But surely he didn’t continue to feel that way, he told himself. He remembered the kindness and love coming from the essence of Gerath when they had spoken in the Black Oasis.

  “Do not be deceived,” warned Melek. “The heart of Gerath is as black as the darkest night. Soon you shall see.”

  Gewey took a deep breath to steady himself before returning his attention to the vision.

  “At least make him aware of you,” suggested Ayliazarah.

  Gerath took a long look at the light. Finally, he gave an almost imperceptible nod. At once the light hung motionless. After a few short seconds it eased its way closer to its father. At first Gerath did nothing. Then he raised his hand and touched it with the tip of his finger. The light glowed brighter and brighter until Gewey was forced to shield his eyes and could no longer watch.

  “No!” Gerath’s voice thundered.

  The light withdrew a few feet and dimmed.

  Ayliazarah leaned in close to Gerath. “He knows who you are,” she whispered.

  “He?” scoffed Gerath. “It is neither he nor she. At least, not yet.”

  The goddess flashed a girlish grin. “I have a sense about these things. He has no form as of this moment, but once he reaches the earthly plain…yes…definitely a son.”

  “It makes no difference,” he countered angrily. “I will not love this child.”

  The light began to approach its father a few inches at a time - stopping and hovering, then moving again. Just as it was within arm’s reach, Gerath clapped his hands sharply together. The air shattered in a sharp crack and the light was pushed away. After a few moments it once again tried to move closer, but it was now being held firmly in place by an unseen force.

  Gewey looked on in horror. He’d expected Ayliazarah to intervene, but she did not.

  “And hurting him is the answer for you, it would seem,” she chided. She turned away, shaking her head.

  Perhaps in an attempt to escape whatever was holding it, the light began changing color. First it became a shade of green, moments later it became red, and then just as quickly it was back to green again. As it continued to quiver and struggle, Gewey thought he could hear a cry. But he wasn’t sure if this was real or imagined. Even his own body was beginning to feel constricted as he watched the fire in Gerath’s eyes increase.

  “Petty and cruel,” said Melek. “That is your father. He is, as he always was.”

  After a short while longer, Gerath released the light. It immediately fled from him, but only traveled less than one hundred feet before stopping and settling on the grass.

  “So is your intent to make him hate you?” asked Ayliazarah.

  Gerath clenched his fists. “I do not know. The Creator forgive me, I do not know what to do. I never wanted this. I never wanted…him.” The word ‘him’ passed his lips like a curse.

  Ayliazarah threw her head back in laughter. “Since when does the mighty Gerath get to choose the service given to him by the Creator? No, my brother. You cannot delay for much longer. A father you are, and a father you must be.”

  Gerath made no response to this. Pausing only to glance at his sister for the briefest of moments, he walked off back into the mist.

  As soon as he was gone Ayliazarah moved with graceful strides over to where the light still rested on the grass. She knelt down beside it and reached out, but withdrew her hand an instant before making contact. “He may be right,” she said quietly. “The Creator forgive me, he may be right about you.”

  The images faded and Gewey found himself back inside Melek’s house staring out of the window. The barren wasteland was even more horrible to behold than before.

  “What did she mean: He may be right about me?” he demanded. “Right about what? None of this makes sense.”

  Melek left Gewey’s side and sat down at the table. He took a sip of wine and then nodded toward the chair opposite him. After a final lingering look out of the window, Gewey came across.

  “What you saw was the real truth about the gods,” said Melek. “Their hatred and malice knows no bounds. Not even when it concerns their offspring - or their parents.”

  Gewey saw a flash of rage pass over Melek’s face, but it was quickly gone.

  “Why would Gerath do this?” he asked. “Why would he reject me - and hurt me?” His fingernails clawed their way into the wooden table. “And why would Ayliazarah not come to my aid?” He laid his head in his hands. “I don’t understand any of this.”

  “These are things you were never supposed to see,” Melek told him. “That form – that ball of light – was you before you were given true consciousness. You were then simply a being of life and emotion.” He shook his head. “How Gerath could have left you that way for so long is beyond my understanding.”

  He took a deep breath before continuing. “When my beloved wife and I gave birth to the gods, we knew that such an existence would be unbearable. Possessing emotions without the intelligence to govern them is a nightmare. Gerath had you endure what he never had to. We gave our children a mind the moment they came into this world.”

  “I still don’t understand,” said Gewey meekly. His reason was slipping away. “That was me…and yet it wasn’t?”

  “It was you,” affirmed Melek. “It was your spirit. Your essence. But until Gerath allowed his own spirit to make full contact with yours, you were without a rational mind. You could feel, but you did not have the capacity to make sense of your emotions.” He sighed. “It was the same with all of my children. But as I said, we did not leave them to languish in limbo: that would have been cruel. We knew that for every joy, there is also sorrow and fear.”

  “How long was I left like that?” asked Gewey.

  Melek shrugged. “It is impossible to say. Time in heaven is not measured as it is on earth. But even a short time would have seemed like an eternity.”

  Gewey was grateful he could not remember. This feeling merged with a growing hatred for his father.

  “I understand,” said Melek. “And in time you will face him and exact your revenge.”

  Gewey no longer minded that Melek was again reading his thoughts. His words were comforting. Yes, I would like revenge, he thought, almost involuntarily.

  “But none of this explains why,” he said aloud.

  “Because of what you are,” replied Melek.

  “What I am? I’m a god, just like them.”

  “Like them,” said Melek. “But also like me. You have the light of the Creator within you. It is why they fear you. It is why, even if you were able to serve their needs, in the end they will not suffer you to live. Like me, you will be betrayed.” He poured them both another cup of wine. “That is, unless you heed my words and stand by my side when the time comes.”

  Gewey found himself nodding without even thinking about it. Then, somewhere in the recesses of his mind, a moment of doubt crept in. There were questions he needed the answers to, but couldn’t form the words.

  Sensing this, Melek drained his cup and smiled. “But there is more for you to see before you make your decision.”

  “What happens then?” asked Gewey. He felt anxious to see more, but also afraid of what he might discover.

  “Then we will leave this place,” he replied. “Together, you and I will right all the many wrongs done to us both.”

  The house faded, and now they were inside a circular chamber. The floor was made from flawless white marble. In stark contrast, the walls were hewn from a black stone with gold threads running through it that appeared to pulse and flow as blood through veins. Standing in a semi-circle around the edge of the chamber were nine figures clad in the purest white robes. Gewey knew instinctively who they all were.
>
  From left to right stood: Saraf - God of the Oceans; Islisema - Goddess of the Moon and Stars; Helenasia - Goddess of Healing and Knowledge; Dantenos - God of the Dead; Gerath - God of the Earth; Althetas Mol - Goddess of Wisdom and Compassion; Pósix - Goddess of the Dawn and Light; Hephisolis - God of Fire; and Ayliazarah - Goddess of Fertility and Love.

  All were staring intensely at the small globe of light in the very center of the room.

  Gewey could not have averted his eyes, even if he had wanted to. Their sheer beauty and majesty, enriched by a soft golden aura, was irresistible.

  “And there they all are,” said Melek, not hiding his contempt. “My children. My greatest accomplishment - and my greatest blunder.”

  Melek’s bitter words broke the mesmerizing spell holding Gewey. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “What are they doing?”

  Before Melek could respond, Althetas Mol stepped forward and faced the assembly.

  “Gerath,” she said accusingly, pointing her finger. Her voice echoed throughout the chamber, each repetition of her brother's name sounding louder than the previous. Then, all at once, there was silence. “Why is your child still unborn?”

  Gerath appeared unaffected - almost bored. “As this is my child, I see no reason to explain myself to you.” He glanced left and right. “To any of you.”

  “But the child is not yours alone,” corrected Hephisolis. “The Creator was directly involved. Defying her is not wise and could impact us all.”

  “I am not defying her,” he replied, with only a hint of emotion. “I am merely proceeding in my own fashion.”

  Althetas Mol took a step forward. “Do you think us so easily deceived? You intend to forgo the sacrifice. Do not bother to deny it.”

  This time Gerath was unable to contain his irritation. His lips twisted into a snarl. “And if I do, that is still my decision to make.”

  This brought murmurs of disagreement from the others.

  “I do not think our brother intends to defy the Creator,” interjected Ayliazarah. “He would not risk her wrath being brought down upon us all.”

  Althetas Mol huffed. “Always it is you who takes up his banner. Have you no mind of your own?”

  Ayliazarah smiled at the comment. “Of course I do, my sweet sister. And as it happens, I agree that Gerath should complete what he has begun. However, I am not eager to accuse him of endangering us - as you seem to be. In fact, was it not you who screamed like a mortal girl when you were told that the child would be born? Goddess of wisdom indeed. You said in no uncertain terms that this would be the end of us all.”

  “And I still believe it to be so,” she countered. “We all know what will happen once these events are set in motion. Even still, I obey. Though my faith is shaken, I will carry out the will of our Creator. And I am prepared to suffer the consequences I am sure will follow. Are you?”

  “I do not know.” Ayliazarah lowered her eyes and folded her hands in front of her. “I only know that once the child is truly among us, I must have faith that the Creator will return.” A single tear from her eye fell to the marble floor like a silver raindrop, shattering as though made of glass as it landed. “I feel her absence as keenly as any of you. As my prayers pass from my lips into oblivion, I suffer – as do you all. But it is like you said: we are commanded to carry out her will.”

  “Then we are in agreement.” It was Saraf who spoke. “Gerath should proceed without delay.”

  “I did not say that,” Ayliazarah protested. “I said that Gerath would not endanger us. If he feels he should wait, then I will not try to force him to do otherwise. And if you value peace in heaven, you will follow my example.”

  As her final words faded, the entire assembly erupted into a heated, unintelligible argument. The volume of angry voices rose to unimaginable levels, forcing Gewey to cover his ears. However, through the tempest of conflicting opinions, he was somehow able to work out how things stood amongst them. Pósix and Hephisolis were in agreement with Ayliazarah that Gerath that should do what he considered best. The rest of them were bitterly opposed.

  Melek held out his hand and the volume of the voices decreased.

  “Look at them,” he spat. “Pathetic.”

  “I didn’t understand any of that,” said Gewey, the echoes of the debate still bouncing around inside his head.

  Melek let out a hearty laugh. “I am not surprised. I am their father, and even I struggle to understand them. Apparently, Gerath refuses to carry out the Creator’s edict and bring you fully into the world. He knows your birth heralds their end – something that he is most anxious not to have come to pass. But there is more. It would also seem that the moment you came to be, the Creator abandoned them all.” He laughed again, this time for nearly a full minute.

  “That much I already know,” Gewey said after Melek had settled down. “I learned of it when I discovered who my true mother is. But I was also told that she is to return once my destiny is fulfilled.”

  Melek cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. “Will she? I think Gerath is afraid she will not. The rest of them follow blindly, wanting him to complete your birth in order to hasten her return. Not that they have any hope, regardless of what happens. The Creator will do them no good, so what would it matter?”

  “What are you saying?” asked Gewey, shocked. “Of course it matters.”

  “Why? Why would it be so important? What has our beloved Creator done for the world?”

  “Well, she created it,” Gewey pointed out. “Isn’t that enough? Without her, none of us would even exist.”

  “True,” admitted Melek. “But she has also stood idle while millions suffered and died. The first born drove themselves mad. And were it not for their immortality, they would have killed each other right down to the very last. Even so, they were able to inflict unbearable suffering. On and on it went until their feeble minds could grasp nothing but blood and destruction.”

  His eyes met with Gewey’s. “Is that the love of the Creator? And when I sought to right the wrongs of my children, she allowed them to banish me to this desolate nightmare of a prison.” He grunted in a very human way.

  “So you don’t want the Creator to return?”

  Melek shrugged. “I just don’t think it would matter, even if she did.” His eyes returned to the gods. “Ah, I see Gerath is nearly ready to boil over.”

  As if on cue, Gerath spread his arms. “Enough of this!”

  His voice was like rolling thunder. The other gods stepped away, startled.

  The group had all but forgotten the ball of light. It was now visibly trembling as Gerath approached, his expression grim. Kneeling down, he placed his hands upon it. In response to his touch, as Gewey had seen before, the light grew brighter and brighter. But this time Gerath did not withdraw, instead allowing it to continue increasing until it had completely surrounded him. After several minutes of this, the brightness gradually dimmed and faded away.

  Where the light had once been, a small child of no more than three years old now stood. Its features were fine and delicate, yet strong and proud, giving the impression of being both male and female.

  Gerath stood and looked directly into the child’s eyes. “I name you Darshan.”

  This done, he reached out toward Ayliazarah, who rushed to his side and wrapped her arm around him. “I need rest,” Gerath told her. “Help me.”

  A swirling portal of blue light appeared just behind them. Ayliazarah led Gerath through it. Darshan watched as his father disappeared without a word.

  One by one, the other gods stepped near to the child, looked at it for a moment, and then also entered the portal. Althetas Mol was the last.

  “Where am I?” asked Darshan. His tiny voice was soft and vulnerable.

  “You are home,” she replied, taking his hand.

  “Who are you?”

  Althetas Mol smiled, but did not reply.

  Gewey watched them vanish through the portal. A tear fell down his cheek.
<
br />   Melek placed a hand on Gewey’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”

  Gewey noticed that they were back inside Melek’s house. He walked over to the table and took a seat. Melek poured him a cup of wine and sat down in the chair opposite.

  “I really thought my father loved me,” said Gewey. “But clearly he didn’t.”

  The howl of the wind outside rose once again, carrying with it the wild voices of tormented souls.

  “There is more,” said Melek. “And though I wish it was not so, you must see it. One final time…then you can decide.”

  Gewey nodded. “I understand.”

  Chapter 8

  Several hours had passed, yet still there was no news from Maybell about what was happening. Lee had spent most of the time constantly pacing back and forth. It got to the point where Millet was compelled to command him to be still.

  Lee and Linis had both tried to hear what was going on inside the pavilion, but even with their heightened senses they could catch only a few words. Certainly not enough to make out any details of what the two women were talking about.

  The camp was buzzing with rumors about who the mysterious woman might be. Some said she was the mother of Darshan - others a priestess come to heal him. A few even went so far as to suggest that the goddess Helenasia had come down to breathe life back into his lungs. This widespread speculation continued apace, even though Weila had been quite free about telling her people who the woman actually was.

  “They despair over Darshan’s death,” said Lyrial sadly. “Their hope is so strong that they would believe anything – even the impossible.”

  “I would not go so far as to say the impossible,” corrected Linis. “Though I doubt that Maybell can raise the dead, she has certainly come for a reason. Perhaps she brings with her the hope your people require.”

  Dina took his arm and rested her head on his shoulder. “I pray that you’re right.”

  Another hour passed. Eventually, Lee could wait no longer. He set off with rapid strides toward the pavilion, with Dina, Millet, Jacob and Linis all chasing after him. Flinging back the flap, he pushed his way inside but then stopped short.

 

‹ Prev