Coe Pidaria
Page 1
Coe Pidaria
A Legend of Arria
By Courtney Bowen
Copyright ©2015 Courtney Bowen. All rights reserved.
Cover Image: An Eruption of Mount Vesuvius, with the Procession of St. Januariu's Head by Joseph Wright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and places either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission from the author, except in cases of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
The Legends of Arria:
The Smiling Stallion Inn
Servants and Followers
Power Over Death
The Tiger of Light
Coe Pidaria
The Legends of Arria 2002
The Knights of Arria 2002
The Lion and the Kirna 2002
The 2008 Knights of Arria Part 1
The 2008 Knights of Arria Part 2
A Song of My Heart: Poetry
The Sable Valley: short story
He could see the tall, glimmering spires of the great city that men had built stretching high above, pitted against the sapphire and ochre sky as the sun descended to its resting place. The great city of Coe Pidaria was miles away still, but so widespread and tall, encircled by its wall, that he could see it nonetheless from this distance across the plains. Some might say that this was the greatness of Arria, the country whose capital this was, displayed for all to admire and yearn for; the greatness of humanity in its power and its artisanship.
He loathed that sight with all of his heart, or what was left of his heart.
He and his army marched across the plains toward that great city, that great city which held the might of humanity in its domain. He would destroy that might as his humanity had been destroyed in him. Shadows whispered in his ear, telling him everything he wanted to hear, and they were telling him now that he could defeat the humans, that humanity was not as great as it seemed.
Impressive it was that men had created this monstrosity of perfection, but they had received help from others. The Fay were almost godlike in manner. Long-living beings who appeared in different forms, the Fay lived on the other side of the world, but they would show up, usually when they were needed most, and assist those that they favored. The Fay looked down upon creation in some ways, being ‘above’ it in their magnificence, but the Fay were not entirely perfect.
The Fay could create insofar as making something appear, but they could not imagine in an elaborate manner. Their magic was more of illusion and power, brief power to force something into changing shape or manifesting; their creations were short-lived and barely sustainable. They could not conceive of anything new, always basing their creations off of something that already existed in nature, and never changing the form to fit a new purpose.
He was not like the Fay; nor was he like the humans.
Humans could imagine something that had never existed before. They could detail or make up the practical necessities that would make something exist, and last for as long as possible. However, they could not always complete it.
Men had come here awhile ago, and had looked across this wide expanse of grassland, which was empty then. They saw not just space, though, but something to fill that space, something that they would have to build; that was how the great city came to be. It was a vision, a vision of power, though they had not the ability to make it come true.
The city of Coe Pidaria was something impossible, yet possible because humans had imagined it. Humans were inventive and creative, making new things and always seeing solutions to problems that had not even been noticed before. However, their strength was not equal to the task of creating this solution, so the Fay helped.
He did not enjoy such imaginative qualities in lesser forms; they did not deserve to possess such abilities. Only the ‘best’ should have such imagination, and he would rather keep the ability to create to those who knew how to control their powers, instead of letting every mortal human have that capability.
Yet the Fay favored humans for their imagination, and for their general good nature. When a human had achieved or imagined something stupendous, and had done so in a constructive manner, then the Fay were more willing to show up.
The Fay loved humans, to a certain extent. They were not discontent with the presence of humans, nor were they ambitious enough to stand up against them; they were satisfied enough with their own little kingdom on the other side of the world to help the humans achieve dominion in this part of the world. They could not see how much the humans would take over, if given half the chance.
He saw that the humans were gaining strength, that their creative skills were running rampant, and that, if they thought hard enough, they might be able to achieve the most amazing things. He knew their ambition. He knew their drive. He had once been human, and he had possessed such ideas of how to make his kingdom, Corrica, greater than all the rest; he still had those dreams.
Then Corrica had died.
And he had come here, to Arria, quite by chance, really. But he had learned a lot from this old wizard who had taken him in, sheltered him from the storm in his heart, and taught him everything he knew about power, and what it meant to possess it. He learned about magic, about the Fay, and what laid in between worlds; then he became who he was, and lost his humanity in the process when he was consumed by the shadows and became Doomba.
Doomba was a force to be reckoned with, so the shadows that surrounded him whispered in his ear; he was the greatest being that had ever lived. So consumed with power of his own, not even the Fay could match him. Even the humans stood not a chance, for he knew them so well, and he could create just like them. He had created this army, after all.
Monsters he had, so many monsters; beasts of gruesome size, fierce nature, and twisted shapes. Nothing was natural. Nothing like these beasts had existed before, and yet nothing had been ‘manifested’ out of what wasn’t there.
These beasts came from different sources, inspired as he was by designs in nature. However, he had improved on these designs in his own way, altering them so that they became even more monstrous and grotesque. All ‘natural’ beauty of the creatures who had so inspired him were gone, and the creations were stripped bare of their own natures so that he could infuse them with his own shadowy nature, his own dissatisfaction and discontent.
Yet they became loyal Servants of him alone, for they owed their very existence to him. He was a part of them, and they could not destroy their creator just as much as he could not destroy them…well, not all of them. The monsters known as Trollas, Ghoulmen, and gruelmoffs; what kind of humans could have created these beings as he had created them? There were none who matched his abilities in power and magic.
There were men in this army, as he was forced to fill its ranks with soldiers and warriors who wanted to fight for him. Not even monsters could match the full force of arms that these men bore. But they were men dissatisfied with the power of Arria, with the glory of Arria, the country whose reach was spreading so far with the help of Fay and some of the greatest humans. These men would rather destroy than create, and they had no idea as to his true intentions. These were the types of men he would rather have around him. Eventually, these men would destroy themselves. Unable to cohere in any sort of state, they lacked the ability to realize that dissociation dissolved more than it created, and the weakest could be eliminated one by one.
What kind of Fay could hold sway with the kind of power he had over humans and monsters? The Fay were too ‘perfect’ to realize the potential of leadership, dominion over others.
For now, though, Doomba acted like a human to the extent that he assumed a physical form to lead them,
one that appeared to be human, riding on top of a horse at the head of the army. However, Doomba did not allow himself to be fully revealed. His shadows hid everything above his chest, so that no man could see his face. He did not even know what his own face looked like, but he had the sensation that it was there, just barely covered by his own skin.
What use did he have for a face, though? A face was just a mask that covered the skin, and he would rather be wreathed in shadows, hidden from view; that still would show more of his true nature than his face ever could. The city of Coe Pidaria, in a way, was a mask for the true nature of the country of Arria. For Arria was a mere copy, a mere replica of Corrica that had existed long before it was destroyed.
There were people who had survived the destruction of Corrica, just as he had. But they had gone in another direction, and had arrived here years earlier. They had already become famous as ‘the Knights of Arria’, the people who had united the land into one country, pulling together different bands of humanity before they started building Coe Pidaria in the southern most part of the country. The country itself was large enough to occupy most of the western half of the continent known as Salarria.
The Fay helped them, as they had helped these people in the past, by giving them the tools and the ability to reach such grand heights in their construction with magic and other strange instruments. Fay and human hands worked together to make Coe Pidaria, a model of perfection and eternity imagined and brought to life by humans, a reality; Coe Pidaria was paradise on earth where virtue and goodness reigned as the Knights of Arria had made it happen.
Arria was ‘Earth’, the sum of everything that had ever existed, in the hearts and minds of the people who originally inhabited this land before the Knights and Doomba came from Corrica. However, Arria was now built upon the ruins of past generations, of past eons that had been destroyed when Corrica had erupted; Arria did not deserve to be called the greatest. Corrica had been the greatest, for though it was not ‘perfect’ without Fay or magic, it had been more glorious when it had created more, and had done so with nothing preceding it, no magic and no Fay to help them. Corrica had been the true cradle of society before it had broken up into little pieces after everything it had created.
Arria had done great things, but it was not the sum of everything there was, and did not deserve to be above all others when Arria created something that destroyed the very memory of Corrica itself, breaking it apart and dismantling it to build something that would rival it. No, Arria was a part of everything, a part that had to be destroyed. Doomba wanted to destroy Coe Pidaria for that reason.