The Fallen God

by Gary Mark Lee

  Kela looked around at the small damp cell then walked over to the dirty bed and sat down. She did not speak as she put her hands into her robe and took out a small bundle and un-wrapped it, “I did not know if they would feed you so I brought something”.

  As soon as the wrappings were undone Anais knew from the warm smell that she had baked him some fresh meadow cane biscuits and a small Safic berry pie. She handed one of the warm cakes to the blind Prince, “eat them now or they will get cold”, she said.

  And doing as she asked he took the offering and bit off a portion, he chewed it slowly savoring its sweet taste then when he had consumed part of it he thanked her.

  “They say that food tastes the best when it might be your last,” he said with a smile, “but I say it is the finest when shared”, and he handed her the half-eaten biscuit.

  She smiled and took it from him and ate it slowly, and when she had swallowed she nodded her head, “you are right, it does seem to taste better”.

  They ate for a time in silence then when all the cakes and pie was gone the Handmaiden spoke, “I am going to the Holy Mother and I will ask her to use her power to set you free”; it is her son she will not refuse.

  But Anais shook his head, “No, it was my choice and I will stand by what I said”.

  “But what if the King does not return, are you going to give up your life?”

  The blind Prince rose to his feet and moved to a corner of his small cell, “I have said what I have said, I cannot turn back now”.

  Now it was Kela’s time to rise and she moved to his side and put her hand on his shoulder. “I am a Handmaiden of Isarie, I have pledge my life to serving her, but I will give up that life if it saves yours”.

  Anais wished with all his heart that he could turn and take her in his arms, but he did not and turning away he moved from her and spoke in a low voice, “go away”, he said. And hearing his words she called out to the guards and soon they came and open the cell door, and without any more words the young Handmaiden walked away and left the blind Prince alone.

  When the footsteps had fallen away and all was quiet once more Anais moved to his bed and sat down upon it, he did not speak for there was no one to hear him and as he stared into the darkness his inner mind heard sounds. They came from all around him, screaming and people calling out in pain, the sound of stones falling on stone, more screams and above it all a grinding of metal on metal. Then he saw flames and smoke, bodies of the fallen scattered like leaves in the winter.

  Is this the Pit of Marloon? He asked himself, am I to spend all eternity in fire?

  As his inner-mind looked up at the sky and saw it fill with a dark shadow his body became racked with pain. “NO, I will not end like this!” he called out. And as he watched the shadow come for him he saw Kela running towards him and he reached out for her.

  His vision ended and he was alone in the darkness once more, he sat there for some time without moving then he bowed his head and began to weep as if he were a child once again.

  Endo had waited and watched trying to find a way to free himself and his people, but the more he tried to find a way out the more his heart sunk. He realized that over the many cycles that the Sandjars had been in captivity the more the Norgonie had learned how to keep them as slaves. Every avenue was guarded, every tunnel patrolled by warriors and Drogs and even if they could reach the surface they would have to face thousands of Forest-dwellers all well-armed and trained to kill. But still he did not give up hope for without that he would be just another slave, so he continued to watch and learn and now he sat beside Rawna and ate the merger food in his clawed hand.

  All around him in the holding cave were his people, they sat alone or in small groups on the different levels hoping that someone stronger would not take their ration and leave them with nothing to fill their bellies. For like the surface world it was the strong who survived while the weak perished.

  Endo was called “Coraw” but being a leader meant more than a name, and he knew that at any time he could be challenged for that title so he found a bit of broken metal and a short length of wood and fashioned a weapon. It was not a strong dagger like the Nomads carried but fitting the wood as a handle and then working long hour’s sharpening the steel on a smooth rock and he had a knife of sorts. He kept it hidden least the Norgonie found it and knowing he had it near gave him comfort

  Endo looked down at the female by his side and he smiled for he had given his heart to Rawna and in return she had given him hers.

  I cannot let her live out her life in the dark, he thought; I will find a way out! Then he took the last of his food and handed it to his mate, she took it from his hand and ate it quickly then leaned against his leg and made soft purring sounds. It was the way female Sandjar showed affection and it did not go unnoticed by Endo. In spite of all that has been done to her she still can love.

  It gave him hope and renewed strength to find a way out, but as he looked up he saw Mog moving slowly towards him and seeing his rival coming near he reached under where he sat and gripped the handle of his primitive knife. But as he watched he saw that the big Sandjar kept his head down and did not look him in the eyes, and knowing the ways of his people he understood that he did not wish to fight. So when Mog was standing before him he took his hand off his weapon and made a soft grunting sound as he nodded his head up and down, it was the traditional way of greeting for one of his kind. Mog did the same and sat down beside his leader, for a time the big Sandjar did not move and just stared into space, then he slowly put his hand into the ragged garment he wore and withdrew something in his large hand. He slowly reached out and placed it on the ground next to his Coraw and then waited in silence.

  Endo looked down and was amazed at what he saw, for there lay a bit of stale bread and a small portion of rotting meat. It was not much and if he had been back at his wagon he would had tossed it away thinking that it was unfit for consuming. But here in this underground prison it could mean the difference between life and death.

  Mog has given me something of great value, he thought. It was very unlike his people for they did not share and the weak prayed on the strong, but looking at the precious food he knew that he at least had one devoted follower. Endo put his hand on the shoulder of the big Scavenger and spoke in a low voice, “thank you”, he said, and hearing Norgonie words coming from the mouth of his Coraw made Mog tilt his big head in wonder. He watched as Endo handed the bit of food to the female and this caused him to tilt his head to the other side and grunt twice for he did not understand how a Coraw would give up food to a worthless body warmer.

  Endo watched as Rawna ate the food and then smile at him, he turned back to Mog, “I promise that someday you will have your freedom”.

  Again the big Sandjar did not understand what the words meant but he was intelligent enough to repeat what he heard so tilting his head once more he spoke in a low guttural voice, “freeeeedam?” he said.

  This made Endo smile and he once more placed his hand on Mog shoulder, “Yes, freedom”, he knew that to the big Scavenger it was a word without meaning but it was a start.

  When Kela left the holding tower she did not return to her tent but went straight to the quarters of the Holy Mother. The Thungodra did not bar her way for they knew she was a Handmaiden of the Goddess and it was not within their power to question her. When she was inside the great tent she moved pass the other servants of Isarie and waited before the chamber of Egmar, she stood there for a moment collecting her thoughts then spoke in a soft voice.

  “Holy Mother, it is I Kela, may I enter?” and when there was no reply she started to speak again but Egmar called out to her.

  “Enter”.

  And knowing that she had permission the young girl pulled back the door veil and walked into the chamber, once inside she stopped and stared in amazement for it had been some time sense she had stood before the Holy Mother in her private quarters.

  All about her were treasures and finery that were
fit for a King and far to ornate for a speaker of the Goddess, there was gold and silver, baskets of rare shells and Rimar horn, ivory statues and jeweled chests of all kinds. There were richly carved chairs covered in thick Hagar skins and tables piled high with food and drink, it was the domain of a Sin-Craver and not that of a Holy Mother.

  Then she saw Egmar with her back turn to her sitting in a well-stuffed chair; she moved a few steps towards her then spoke.

  “Enor, it is Kela your daughter”, she said.

  For a moment the Holy Mother did not move then she turned and looked at the young Handmaiden, “I have no daughter”, she said coldly. In spite of herself Kela drew in her breath in a gasp for she was expecting the scarred face that she had grown to love and not the soft features and supple skin that now looked at her with so much contempt. Egmar slowly rose from her chair and walked to her servant, she wore a purple robe trimmed with golden thread and on her head a headdress of gold and Doff-bird feathers. On her arms were many bracelets and around her neck hung a heavy medallion made of ivory.

  When she was only a few inches from Kela she stopped and looked into her eyes, “why do you call me Enor? Do you not know that I am your mistress and could have you whipped for addressing me so?”

  The young Handmaiden bowed her head, “forgive me Holy Mother,” she said softly. “I should not have spoken to you in that way”, something has changed, something has taken her soul.

  Hearing the proper apologies Egmar turned from her and move to a table where she poured herself a large cup of well-aged Po, then after taking a sip she spoke once more, “why do you disturb me?” she asked.

  Keeping her head down the young Handmaiden answered her, “I’ am sure you know that Anais your son is being held by the Norgonie, and if the King does not return he is to be killed”.

  “Yes I know this”, Egmar replied taking another sip of her wine.

  “Then I ask you to speak to the Holy Man Vitranius and ask him to set him free, surely the power of Isarie and Arm-Ra together can overcome the orders of a Queen”.

  Again the Holy Mother took a sip from her cup “I have only one son and he is far away, but he is coming and he brings a God that will destroy all those before him!”

  Hearing such sacrilege being spoken by the Holy Mother made the blood in Kela’s veins turn to ice, she stood there unable to speak for a moment then spoke in a whisper that could hardly be heard, “forgive me again Holy Mother, I will leave you now”. And bowing low the young Handmaiden turned and left the chamber, and as she walked away she could hear laughter coming from the quarters of the woman she once called Enor, but she knew that she would never call her that again.

  Osh was still a prisoner, well fed and cared for but still a prisoner, but if he had to be held in solitude there could be no other place better than the one he was in. For longs days and nights he had scanned the ancient parchments and artifacts lay out before him. He read all the hundreds of ancient scrolls and deciphered countless inscriptions in stone and now he sat back in his chair and pondered the meaning of it all.

  Knowledge, he thought, great knowledge is a power that destroys everything. And knowing this made the old man sad for he now understood that to know all is to be a force stronger than any army or weapon and it will destroy both the user and those that it is used upon.

  He slowly put down the dusty scroll that he had been reading and rose from his chair then he slowly began to move about the room, all the while speaking words to his mind.

  The Overlords had vast understanding but they wanted more, they wished to know all and then become masters of all they understood. The old man moved to a table and lying upon it was the twisted remains of some fantastic mechanism. But for all their power they forgot wisdom and in the end they lost everything, Osh ran his thin fingers over the burned-out device and nodded his large head. I come from a race that can count the stars but we never look at their beauty, am I just another Cipher, a mechanism without feeling, without emotions, without...?

  It was then that he thought of his adoptive son and how much he loved him and he knew that he was not just another interchangeable part in some great computer species, he was a father.

  “Have you finished?” asked a voice.

  Osh looked up to see Vatranius standing near the open door with two large Norgoinie warriors behind him both holding a lighted torch in one hand and a Kagar in the other. The Holy Man was dressed in his usual long robe but he wore no head covering and his arms and fingers did not carry jewelry, but around his neck hung a large medallion of strange workmanship.

  Osh moved to where he stood and looked him in the eyes, “yes I have finished”, he said.

  The Holy Man smiled, “very good, now come with me”, and leading the way Vitranius led him from the room and down a long corridor. Behind him walked the warriors with there spears at the ready in the slight chance that the old Nomad might try and escape, but the Callaxion knew that he would be caught in an instant and so he walked with his captors but held his head high.

  Down the walkway they moved with only the torches to light the way but Osh had grown use to the dim light of his chamber and he did not stumble on the worn walk stones. They kept moving until they reached a large wooden door that Vatranius opened and then they continued down a long flight of stairs that seemed to go on and on. From the calculations of how many and their approximate height Osh determined that he was deep under the temple of Arm-Ra. And as the old man looked around he saw that it was a very strange place for it was not the great stone fortification that it appeared to be from the outside, but rather a hollow structure filled with wondrous machinery and piping. Huge gears and levelers connected to more intricate devices and all through it ran transparent walls; it was not glass but some kind of reflective prisms mush like the solar power stores on the twin worlds of Wanara. And this seemed very strange to the Callaxion for there was no sunlight here and therefor of no use as a power source, but he knew that on Gorn things were not always as they appeared.

  Without speaking they continued downward moving through other chambers filled with more unknown devices then at last they came to a large metal door and stopped. The entrance was finely made with markings and inscriptions and large lock in the center.

  The Holy Man reached out and with his thin fingers he pressed several points on the portal, with each touch of his fingers a slight “click” was heard and Osh understood that it was a code of some kind to gain access through the door. Now he watched and remembered the combination and after several more clicking the door latch opened.

  “Remain here”, the Holy Man said to the two warriors then forcing open the door he entered with Osh behind him, when they were inside the Holy Man pushed the door closed and again pressed markings so that it could not be opened without knowing the code.

  It was black as Eul inside the room but as the door closed behind them the chamber slowly began to fill with a soft glow, and as it grew more of what lay inside came into view.

  Osh was hardly prepared for what he saw for the room itself was huge and its walls covered in the same reflective surfaces that he had already seen, the light that filled the room emanated from dozens of large crystals that shown with a warm glow. But it was what stood in the center of the chamber that made the old man draw in his breath and stare in wonder.

  Osh had seen many wondrous things in his long life, machines and artwork that stunned the mind and made the heart sing, he had seen the carved glaciers on the ice world of Ralbacore and the magnificent constructions of the machine people of Bora-Car. But all those paled in comparison to the intricate marvel that now stood before him and looking at it he thought it could only have been made by the hand of a God.

  It height could not be judged for the light faded before it could reach the top and it’s circumference was as large as the great trees in the Caltarine forest. It was made of metal but it also had organic compounds and other strange materials that the old man had never seen before, and all through it r
an many different colored crystals, red, blue, green, all the colors of the spectrum. But what seemed the strangest to Osh was the fact that it whispered to him; it did not speak in words or images it was more like an echo of a dream, something that always lay just beyond your reach, always there but not there, a whisper of a whisper.

  “Can you hear it?” Vitranius asked.

  Osh nodded his large head, “yes, it’s almost like the voice of....” Then he caught himself and did not speak further.

  The Holy Man moved closer to the great machine and Osh followed him, “I have listened to that voice for a great many cycles, but I have never been able to speak to it”, Vitranius continued. “I first heard it when I became the speaker for Arm-Ra, the High Priest at that time had been killed and I took his power”.

  He had him murdered, Osh thought, power always seeks power.

  “From what I have learned it was built by the Overlords but for exactly what purpose I cannot say”. Vitranious moved to a section of the device that had a protrusion jutting from it. In form it resembled a chair or seat of some kind. But for a misshapen body of a much greater size then any humanoid, “As you can see it has a place for something to sit and I have surmised that it is here that the control of the machine is centered”. The High Priest reached up and touched a mechanism that was centered over the strange chair, “I think this is meant to be placed over the controller’s head and then by a mind-link the machine is made to work”.

  Osh looked at the devise and saw that it was made to fit a head much larger than even his, the Overlords used telepathy, he thought, this machine must use the same principle. “I agree that thought waves are the main source of guidance,” the old man said. “But it is useless because of the Electro-magnetic waves that the Guardian sends out, it has no power”.

  “Agreed, but I have managed to supply it with just enough energy to have it operate on a very low level”.

  “How?” Osh asked.

  Vitranius pointed to the many glowing crystals surrounding them, “I have collected these power crystals from many of the ruins and temples covering Gorn, some brought by Nomads who traded with the Norgonie, others I obtained from ancient structures in the hidden forest of Caltarine. It has taken me many lifetimes but I have done it, now you will help me open its secrets”.