The Fallen God

by Gary Mark Lee

  Chapter 28.

  Awakenings.

  In dreams we walk on worlds without end.

  In dreams all worries and cares will mend.

  In dreams we fly on wings of gold.

  In dreams we sleep in arms that hold.

  In dreams the past becomes today.

  In dreams green pastures our head will lay.

  In dreams we see the things we miss.

  In dreams we feel our mothers kiss.

  Ancient Selcarie lullaby.

  Andra rode her Horca swiftly over the rolling hills near her home and although she knew it was only a dream the smell of fresh grass filled her head and the wind blew softly in her hair. How long she had ridden the small pony and why the hands that held the reins were small and delicate she did not know. All that mattered was that Niana would be waiting for her at the door of her home and she would hug and kiss her like all mothers do.

  I can’t be late, she told herself, mother will be angry if I’m late, she dug in her heels and the four legged animal quickened its pace.

  The young girl rode up a small rise and looked down on the farm where she lived; she could see the thatched roof of her well-kept home and the wooden barn where her brother and her played so often. She could see white smoke bellowing softly from the kitchen chimney and she knew her mother was cooking Kurlock pie.

  I must hurry or the pie will get cold, she thought but as she started down the hill she saw the skies begin to blacken and a clicking sound filled the air. I have heard that sound before, she thought. As she looked up she saw a gigantic crystal spider spinning a web across the sky, the web grew and grew until all the land and beyond was covered in gossamer strands. The Horca vanished from under her and she found herself alone and engulfed in a prison of white. She began to scream and fight but the webbing would not be broken, and as she struggled the landscaped turned from a webbed world and into a vast cave filled with a warm green glow and all about her were gigantic emerald crystals and the sound of clicking spiders.

  “Let me go!” she shouted, “I don’t belong here!”

  She could no longer struggle for the flimsy strands that once bound her turned into iron bands as strong as Itarian steel and the more she fought the more they tightened around her. Again she called out “I don’t belong here!” but it only echoed into nothingness, then she saw a light glowing before her and she was carried to it. As she grew nearer she saw a beckoning glow and then the glow turned into a small child lying on a bed of green crystals. The infant was naked with skin as white as northern snow and eyes as blue as the oceans of her Home-world, and as she came even closer she could see Simon her brother standing near the strange child. He smiled at her and pointed to the infant.

  “Remember”, he said softly.

  The iron strands began to tighten more and more, squeezing the life from her body.

  “What should I remember?” She called out, tighter and tighter, “WHAT SHOULD I REMEMBER?”

  Andrea opened her eyes.

  For a moment she did not know where she was? Then as her mind focused she saw the face of the man she loved and in that moment she forgot her dream.

  He has stood by me, she told herself, and she smiled to see his eyes looking at her, “where have you been?” she asked weakly.

  Arn did not speak for a moment and simply looked into her eyes, how can I tell her where I have been, he thought, how can I tell her that I have betrayed our love? He reached out and touched her face, “the Angel of Death has passed you by, you will survive”. He rose to his feet, “I will send for food and drink for it has been many days and you will need your strength”, and not saying anything more he left the tent.

  Andra lay there resting and as she did something began to fill her mind, it was a vision of green eyes and white flowers and the feel of soft lips on hers.

  Where has he been? she thought, where has he been?

  In the many days and nights sense Arn had returned there had been unrest in the camp of the Almadra, for they knew about the Challenge to the King and although he had survived the battle they were very angry at the Norgonie for putting their leader in danger. Now in the light of morning the warriors grumbled that the forest people were not to be trusted and they should sharpen their axes. And in turn the Norgonie were troubled that Ral did not defeat the Nomad for they believed that they were the stronger and their God would stand by their warrior.

  So for now they stopped trading and did not eat from the same tables and if any member of the tribes walked in the Fortress they would go with a warrior by their side. And because of this no one realized that the Calaxion and the Sandjar boy were gone from their tent.

  Osh was being treated well in spite of the fact that he could not leave the room that he had been placed in, the room or cell if you want to call it that was well appointed with a woven rug covering the stone floor and a soft bed to sleep on. There was a large table and chair to sit on and even a washing basin, but the only outside light came from a small window high up on one wall and steel bars covered it. But there were many torches and braziers, and they gave a warm glow to the chamber. And even though the room was large it was filled with hundreds of scrolls and parchments, they lay in neat rows on wooden selves and with the writing were glass jars filled with all manners of strange things. There were humanoid skeletons of great size, bits of machinery and ancient objects, there were slabs of rock with bizarre caving on them, minerals, plants, vessels filled with unknown compounds. It was enough to keep the mind of an Outer Rim scholar busy for a lifetime, but it was still just a prison to the old man.

  He knew that escape was futile for outside his door there were two strong Norgonie warriors and beyond them waited many more, so for the last few days and nights he concentrated on what was before him and trusted in the Gods to see him through. He did wonder about his son for he knew that Endo was a capable young Sandjar and if there was one thing that could be said about the green Scavengers it was that they knew how to survive. So for now he focused his mind on solving the writings before him, it was not an easy task for as soon as he found a central factor to deciphering one scroll he realized that it would not work on another. But eventually he discovered bits and pieces of what the writings held and it shook his mind.

  He put down the ancient parchment on the table and leaned back in his chair. He began to collate all the information that he had discovered, cross referencing it with knowledge that he already knew, he removed false or misleading calculations and then distilled it down to what he could say was fact. For any other species but a Callaxion it would have taken a great deal of time, but the old man still retained enough mind skill to formulate it into clear and precise information. It was then that he realized just why Vitranius wanted it.

  There is great knowledge here, he thought, enough to rule this planet and many more. Osh rose from his seat and moved to a large humanoid skeleton near him, he looked into the face of the relic and spoke as if it could hear him. “You were once only a weapon, but now you are so much more”, then he heard a voice behind him.

  “They are still just a weapon” it spoke.

  The old man turned to see Vitranius moving into the room, he was alone and dressed in a simple robe, he did however hold a silver tray with two large gold cups on it along with a small golden bowl. He sat the tray on the table near were Osh was sitting and spoke again. “You know that the Outlanders were created as weapons of war, correct?”

  Osh moved to were the Holy Man stood and sat down in his chair once more, “yes, I knew that” he said, “but they have evolved far beyond what the Overlords had in mind for them”.

  “Nonsense”, Vitranius said with a laugh, “they are still just a primitive species fit only to kill and destroy, you have seen that for yourself have you not?”

  The old man nodded his head, “yes I have seen their savagery, but I have also seen their love and there are no longer Overlords to command them”.

  Vitranius did not speak but continued to
smile, it was then that Osh understood the truth, “you want to become their masters don’t you? You think that with them as your army and the knowledge hidden on this world you would be able to conquer all the Outer Rim!”

  Again the High priest laughed, “of course, there are no better soldiers then the Nomads, they are stronger, faster, able to withstand more punishment, and they follow their leaders without question”.

  “You are not their leader”, Osh replied.

  “No not yet”, Vitranius said, “and I know why”, he picked up one of the gold cups and took a sip of the Po that it contained, then after quenching his thirst he spoke once more. “The Nomads and the Norgonie possess a certain amount of telepathy, I am sure you have noticed this?”

  “I have”.

  “This power is most propionate in their leaders, for the Kings and Queens are chosen for their mind power as much as fighting skills, in this way the command of a tribe is passed down”.

  “I understand,” said the old man, that power is handed down from father to son, from mother to daughter.

  The Holy Man took another sip of his wine, “the Overlords also manufactured other species that were created to fulfill certain tasks, take for example the Ergan-Mar, you know of them?”

  “Yes” Osh said, “they are the miners who live in the Hollow Hills and dig the Grana that all creatures on Gorn need”.

  “That is true”, Vitranius replied, then he reached into the gold bowl on the tray and withdrew a bit of green crystal and put it into his mouth, “but they started out as workers and used to carve out the underground living quarters for their masters. For in spite of their vast knowledge the Overlords were weak in body and could not withstand changes in their environments, so they built huge underground complexes and there they continued to work”.

  Osh picked up a parchment near him; “Yes I have learned this from these writing, I also know that they picked this planet to colonize because of its harsh climate”.

  “Exactly, for they needed a place to train their army and this world contains all the extremes of nature, so they came here and began their plan of conquest, but something went wrong”.

  “The Guardian”, Osh spoke before he could stop himself.

  Vitranius handed the other gold cup to the old man, “yes, somehow the creature was able to spread a plague over the entire planet killing all the Overlords and most of the creatures that they were hoping to use in their battle plans. You can see there remains scattered over most of the Outlands”.

  Osh took the cup from the High Priest, “yes, along with great war machines”, Osh said, “I have also learned that the Overlords created many more species to do their bidding”.

  Vitranius rose from where he sat and moved to a large glass case holding the skulls of many different humanoids. “Again you are correct, the Galu of the southern jungles, the Sky Riders, the Hagars of the north, even the Sandjar, all of them molded by the hands of the Overlords”.

  When the ancient Callaxion mentioned the word “Sandjar” the old man put down his cup, “what do you know of the Scavengers?”

  Vitranius opened the glass case and removed a skull, it was easy to see that it was the head of a long dead Sandjar, “they were once the most populous of the creatures on Gorn, it was they who built the pyramid cities”.

  Hearing that his son was a descendent of such a skill people made the old man’s mind jump, my son is not a savage, he thought, his people were once great!

  At that moment Endo was not thinking of the past, his mind was fixed on the future and how he would free his brethren. He watched the Eul dust rise as his pick dug deeply into the earth, and with each strike of his digging tool he wished it was burying itself in the heart of a Norgonie.

  I must free my people, he thought, but with each swing of his pick he realized just how difficult that would be.

  He worked on the lower level of the Eul mine; above and around him were hundreds of other Sandjar, each one forced to work by the many guards that kept constant watch over them. And if any slave slowed in their work they would strike the back of that worker with their whips, none dared fight back for it would mean a horrible death in the jaws of the barking Drogs. The slaves were the sons and daughters of other slaves brought there many cycles ago to work in the darkness and mine the burning rock that the forest people needed so badly. But although they were not the Scavengers of the Outlands they still possessed the instincts for survival that all Sandjars had, and perhaps someday they would use that instinct to be free.

  Endo looked to his left and saw Rawna filling a basket with Eul, she dug with her hands and a small iron spade, she was covered in dust and grime but to the young Scavenger she looked beautiful. When her basket was full she stood up and looked at the young man who she had given herself too, and although she had not smiled in a very long time her thin lips pulled at the corners of her mouth.

  Endo stopped his digging and smiled back at her. It was then he felt the whip across his back, he let out a cry and turned to see who had struck him and it took all his will to keep his anger at bay.

  “Get to work!” shouted the guard, and to add weight to his words he struck the slave again, “get to work you vermin!” he said once more.

  The green boy slowly began to dig as he watched the young female carry her basket to a rock wagon and dump it in. when she had done this she returned to where he was and began to work once more. How many times has she done this? Endo thought, how many cycles has she lived in the darkness? Then once again he looked around the huge cavern, this must end, I will find a way. For now he knew that he must dig and use his mind to overcome the strength of the Norgonie but he would have the comfort of looking into the face of his mate.

  There was another who smiled to see a face for Egmar no longer bore the scars of the Shadowmen.

  She sat before her reflecting plate and looked into the eyes that stared back at her, the cheeks were full and supple and no longer marred with the rotting flesh of the poison lands. On her chin you could once more see the three stripes that marked her as a Queen of the Almadra and her hair once again had the dark color of her kin. She raised her hands to her face and they were not the ghastly clawed fingers of the walking dead, they were soft and smooth and would be welcomed on the flesh.

  She wore a thin robe of finely woven cloth and as she pulled back the covering she saw her breasts were firm and strong once again. It was not the body of her youth to be sure, but it was no longer the aged form that her many cycles would have given her.

  She slowly rose up and began to move about her chamber, there was no music but that did not stop her from lifting her arms and dancing to the song in her head.

  “Summer moons so bright overheard.

  Summer nights in my lover’s soft bed.

  Dancing stars that sing of delights.

  Mating drums beat on hot summer nights.”

  It was an old song but one that the Holy Mother liked very much, she continued to dance for a time then she sat down in a chair, and before her on a carved stand was the Book of Isarie. In the light that streamed in from a open flap in the tents ceiling she could see the gold and silver fittings that held the Holy Book together, she could see the symbol of the Goddess on the front cover and the finely worked bindings.

  The book, she thought, the writings that speaks for the Goddess, then she smiled, it is a silly book a book of lies.

  Sitting on a table next to the book was a small silver bowl filled with Tran, Egmar looked at the book for a moment then at the silver bowl.

  I have received more from the crystals then I have from the holy book, then she laughed “there is no Goddess, there is no Afterlife, all that I need is before me!” And saying this she moved to the silver bowl and took one of the tiny glowing crystals in her fingers. “What a fool I was to believe in the three questions.” And in her mind she repeated the inscription that all Nomads must answer on the day of their judgment.

  Do you know my book.

 
Do you follow its teachings.

  Do you believe.

  “I was a fool to believe in such nonsense”, and she lifted the crystal up to the morning light, “this is my God, all truth is here and now, my past life was just a dream and now I awake!” And again she laughed as she put the crystals into her mouth, then her feet moved about her chamber and her head filled with song.

  “The crystal truth that heals all woe.

  The crystal life that all should know.

  Come eat your fill and evade the light.

  Forget all needs and embrace the night.”

  Arn walked through the camp of his people, the Touchtenders had cared for his wounds and given him a cup of strong Po mixed with Grana to aid in his healing, now there was only a small scar to mark the place where Ishea’s spear had struck him. But although the wounds to his body had been mended the pain in his heart had not lessened.

  How could I have been such a fool? He thought as he moved passed the Ironworkers; I acted like a second cycle fledgling! Suddenly the helmet on his head felt very heavy and the armor covering his great chest became very warm. He wanted to tear off his steel covering and fling his helmet onto the ground then he could walk freely with only his ax in his hand and not be weighted down by the burden of Kingship. To be free to live his life like he wanted that would be paradise.

  He shook his head, and remembered back to the time he gave up his crown rather than fight his brother, no, you ran from your responsibilities once you cannot do that again.

  He continued to walk till he came to the great wagon of the Holy Mother, the loyal Thungodra surrounded it and as he grew near they raised their weapons and watched him carefully. The King knew that he would not be allowed into the great tent of their mistress without her permission so he continued to walk all the while speaking to his mind.

  I have killed a hundred and more warriors in battle, but I could not defeat the callings of my lust, he looked up at the sky and saw the day moons beginning their journey across the heavens. He could not see the small blue moon that the Norgonie called Amura but the Outlanders named Andra but he knew that soon it would join its brothers and sisters and look down upon him and his world. There are no secrets from the stars, I must go back and tell her what I have done, so he turned and began the long walk back to their tent and the woman that he called his mate.