The Sons of Animus Letum

by Andrew Whittle

  “You are mistaken to think that our battle is between good and evil,” Adara said. “In Animus Letum, the fight is between fear and hope. Raeman and the monks you struck down are the proof. They were not evil, Odin: they were afraid. They were afraid that no matter what they did, this hell would persist – that this atrocious world could never break, and that they would be forever its victims. It was fear, and not evil, that twisted them into hell’s partner. They sided with darkness because they forgot that there was light.”

  Odin shook his head. “That doesn’t excuse them.”

  “I am not offering an excuse, Odin. I am offering the reason. This world is awful. And when the fear that it can never change turns into the belief that it can never change, hearts fade and hell grows. The only thing that separates me, or V, or any of our faction from Raeman, is that we have hope.”

  “What hope?” Odin asked.

  “Hope that one day this hell will end,” Adara said. “Hope that you and your brother will return.”

  Odin was struck by both the content and delivery of Adara’s words. He was speechless. He had been muted by emotion.

  As he fumbled in the quiet, it was Adara who finally broke the silence.

  “That’s V,” she said, pointing to a flickering torch down the tunnel. “That’s her church.”

  The golden torch was mounted next to a large, red-studded door. In the torchlight, Odin could see very little. However, as Odin and Adara arrived at the red door, he saw the letter V branded above the doorframe.

  “This door has a slightly different code,” Adara said as she handed Odin her torch.

  She then knocked on the door in a different rhythm than the barn doors, and shortly after a circular slot opened where the doorknob should have been. Adara pushed her hand through the hole, and once it had arrived on the door’s other side, she manipulated her fingers into a sequence of seven different hand signs. After Adara withdrew her hand, there was a small moment of silence, but after a loud creak, the red doors opened.

  As Odin followed Adara inside, he was surprised to see that the inside of V’s church was decked in almost royal tailor. Gold trim covered the walls, pews, and torches of the hall, and the altar was crafted with massive, perfectly cut bronze blocks. There were at least sixty members of the parish in the large church, and as Odin scanned their numbers, Adara called for their leader.

  “V!” she shouted. “You have a visitor!”

  The sixty people in the church turned inquisitively, but then became completely rapt by the sight of Odin’s blue eyes. As the fascinated crowd stared in disbelief, a small boy caught Odin’s attention. The boy had no eyes and something about him seemed very familiar.

  Then, a slender, purple-eyed and red-robed woman emerged at the front.

  “Haren?” Odin blurted.

  “Odin?” Haren gasped. “How?” she asked as shock overtook his face. “This is far too soon! Why are you here? How has this happened?”

  Odin was equally shocked. “You? You’re V?”

  “Yes,” Haren hastily answered. “But why are you here? Where is your brother?”

  “I thought you would have heard,” Odin said. “Galian died. He was thrown into the Cauldron.”

  “The Cauldron?” Haren stammered. “That can’t be. Forneus would have had to claim him directly.”

  “He did,” Odin reported. “He used the Reaper’s Covenant.”

  As the news registered, Haren cursed and then slammed her hands furiously onto the bronze altar.

  “How long has it been?” she asked. “How long since he was taken?”

  “I’m not sure.” Odin confessed. “I came immediately after him. It’s been two days at most.”

  “Were you killed in the Metus Sane assault?” Haren asked.

  “The Metus Sane?” Odin repeated. “They never attacked us. I killed myself.”

  Haren’s tone became deeply apologetic. “Odin, the Throne’s Eye is in rubble. Usis and his Metus Sane burned it to the ground. Most of our brothers were killed. I had assumed that you and Galian had gotten away.”

  “There’s no way,” Odin tried to argue. “I practically broke Usis’s ankle in half. He was in no shape to overtake our brothers.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Odin. I wish I was wrong. I wish it with all my heart. But I assure you, our home is burned. Our brothers are dead.”

  “Even Raine?” Odin asked, his voice breaking with emotion.

  “I don’t know,” Haren replied. “But it is likely that he is dead.”

  Haren’s harsh truth towed another in its wake.

  “And the Forge?” Odin asked.

  Haren shook her head. “I don’t think they’re coming. I doubt Usis would have given any of them the Boatman rite.”

  “But they would have had their coins on them,” Odin argued. “Every member of the Forge was supposed to carry the coins.”

  “It wouldn’t matter, Odin,” Haren said. “The coins need to be placed over the eyes.”

  As Odin’s eyes went blank in shock, Haren allowed her brother a moment of mourning. However, acknowledging the immediate danger, Haren knew she had to return to the more important point.

  “You’re sure Galian was taken to the Cauldron?” she asked. “Because, honestly, information of that magnitude should have found me.”

  “I don’t know,” Odin faltered. “Igallik thought so.”

  “Well, let’s be certain,” Haren said.

  With authority, Haren turned to her parish.

  “We are in need of a Green Eye!” she shouted over them. “We believe a Lyran is in the Cauldron, and we need someone to take a look!”

  Including Adara, only five of the sixty parishioners had green eyes. The ability incumbent on Green Eyes was that they could instigate a Shamance, a rite that would allow them to look into the Cauldron.

  Rysan, the only male with green eyes, could not hold back his alarm.

  “Look in the Cauldron?” he cried. “Are you mad? You know what that would mean. It would announce our church to this entire realm. Not only would our tunnels be found, but every one of us would be put in serious danger.”

  Lilas, another woman with green eyes, added to the concern.

  “Not only that, whoever instigates the Shamance is exposed completely to the Cauldron. They bear its entire weight. V, we can’t entertain this. It is stupidity and not courage that would choose this. None of us are foolish enough try a Shamance with the Cauldron.”

  “I am,” Adara volunteered.

  Rysan immediately objected. “You can’t be serious, Adara. This is folly. It would be the end of us. You’re not seeing the risk.”

  “I’m seeing a chance, Rysan,” Adara replied, “or, at least, the closest semblance to one we’ve had in two decades. I can’t live like this anymore. Whether I’m in the Cauldron or not, I have become Forneus’s prisoner. I’ve got nothing to lose.”

  Rysan shook his head in disbelief. “Yes, you do! I can’t believe we are having this argument. If we look into the Cauldron, it will undoubtedly look back. Our entire safeguard – our entire network of stealth – would be in jeopardy. You’re talking about suicide, Adara.”

  “I’m talking about hope,” Adara said firmly.

  “You don’t realize what you’re saying,” Rysan said mournfully. “If you do this, you’re sacrificing more than yourself. You’ll risk everything we have.”

  “Everything we have?” Adara blurted. “For God’s sake, Rysan, are you listening to yourself? All we have is fear. All we are doing is waiting to die.”

  “This is whim,” Rysan replied. “I am not going to debate this nonsense. If this is truly what we have been waiting for…”

  “Rysan!” Haren interrupted. “I’m having difficulty understanding why you think you have a say. I have asked for a Green Eye, and I have found one. We are moving forward.”

  Rysan looked pleadingly at Haren. “We can’t do this. This is…”

  “My church,” Haren assert
ed. “If you have a problem with my decision, you are welcome to leave. In fact, Dahnus had been asking for a replacement for years.”

  As Rysan sank reluctantly back into silence, Haren turned to Adara.

  “This is your last chance to say no,” she said. “But if you are willing to move forward, we will do so immediately.”

  Adara looked to Odin, and after a deep breath, she made her choice.

  “I will do it,” she said. “Just let me grab my tools.”

  Haren nodded, and after Adara turned to gather her tools, Haren led Odin into a small room behind the massive bronze altar. The room was oval, and in its center was large empty glass cylinder with a small tube sticking out from its inside.

  As Adara continued to hunt down her utensils, Haren used the small moment to issue an overdue apology.

  “I am sorry about that scar,” she said as she inspected the mark below Odin’s right eye. “But, believe me, there was great purpose in instructing you and Galian in Vinculum Imletalis. It was not just a ploy to take your father’s crown.”

  “You almost killed us,” Odin said. “I find it hard to believe you were acting on our behalf.”

  “Can’t you see that I was preparing you?” Haren said. “I was anticipating this exact moment. Everything I’ve done has been on your behalf.”

  “Then why did you take the crown?” Odin asked. “You should have known we would defeat the Scale that night.”

  “I didn’t doubt it, Odin: I was counting on it. Taking the crown was pure strategy. Forneus knew that the crown was in the first realm. So I took it to the last place he would think to look: right here, right under his nose.”

  “That was reckless.”

  “It was, but it appears to have worked.”

  “But why go by V?” Odin asked. “Why the disguise?”

  “To protect you,” Haren answered. “I needed to be someone with no connection to you and your brother – someone whom Forneus wouldn’t look for. I had the crown, Odin; I couldn’t allow myself to be caught.”

  Odin’s head sunk a bit. “I’m sorry Haren. There seems to be a lot I don’t know.”

  Haren nodded sombrely. “The McEnrow?” she presumed.

  “Galian should have told me,” Odin cried. “It would have changed everything. It would have given us another three years.”

  “He couldn’t tell you, Odin. Even if he had wanted to.”

  “But why? Why couldn’t he tell me?”

  “When Galian attempted Descent, I was already here in Animus Letum. Galian found me and came up with the plan to kill the McEnrow. Our pact was that we couldn’t allow you or anyone else to die with that information. If you had passed and Forneus had found you, Forneus would have picked your brain as if it were seeds in a bowl. Our entire safeguard would have been compromised.”

  Odin wiped his eyes again. “I can’t let it end like this.”

  Gently, Haren placed her hand on Odin’s shoulder.

  “I’ve worked my whole life to protect you and Galian,” she said. “I’ve sacrificed a great deal to ensure your legacy. And now, when it matters most, I must give you my best. And in this moment, my best comes as counsel.”

  “What counsel?”

  “I’ve been privileged to know your heart, Odin. I know you’re a warrior. And I know you are going to face Forneus as soon as you get the chance. But heart is not enough to win that battle. We must also use strategy. I’m asking you to wait before facing the king.”

  “I don’t have that option,” Odin said sternly. “I have to face him now.”

  “If you wait, I can offer an army,” Haren said. “Not now, but soon. I can organize thousands to march in your shadow. If you lead them, we can win. If you lead them, we will have a chance.”

  “And what of Galian?” Odin asked. “If I wait, what are his chances? My next move depends wholly on his condition.”

  Haren’s tone turned solemn. “Then, for all of us, let us pray that he is holding on.”

  As Odin took a deep breath, Adara arrived with her tools: a leaf of tobacco, a book of matches, and a tobacco pipe.

  “How does this work?” Odin asked her.

  “You’re about to see,” she replied.

  Adara then packed her pipe with the tobacco, struck a match, and after lighting the tobacco, she took a long inhalation of the smoke. After she had held the smoke in her lungs for nearly half a minute, she put her mouth over the cylinder’s protruding tube, her eyes began to sparkle with a vibrant green, and she exhaled the smoke into the cylinder.

  Adara repeated the same rite four times until the cylinder was filled completely with white smoke. With a firm hand, she then sealed the cylinder’s tube and stepped back to watch.

  Odin was uncertain of the significance of Adara’s ritual, but after a short moment he became startled as the smoke-filled cylinder activated. The smoke began to swirl and churn in wild gusts, and as the speed of the smoke increased, it wound into a perfect column. As the cyclone spiralled, there was a green flash, and the twisting column burst vividly into a deep flaming orange.

  There appeared to be a great number of white skeletal figures slashing around the column’s inside. Odin looked inquisitively into the column, but as he suddenly realized what it was, he stumbled back. The column was the Soul Cauldron. The smoke had transformed into a living vision of Forneus’s soul prison.

  As the countless skeletons began to crash around the Cauldron with even more fervour, Odin became curious of their awareness.

  “Do they see us?” he asked Adara.

  “Not yet,” she answered, “but they will soon. You ask because of my father, don’t you?”

  “Actually, yes,” Odin replied. “In his visions we were invisible.”

  “My dad is gifted to see into the past,” Adara said. “He doesn’t contribute to the visions, so no detection is possible. With a Shamance we see the present. That,” she explained, pointing to the smoke, “is happening right now.”

  As the Shamance started to move deeper into the Cauldron, Adara called out her final warning.

  “Brace yourself! We’re about to enter!”

  Heeding the warning, Odin made an effort to brace himself. There was no adequate preparation. As the Shamance entered completely into the soul prison, his senses cringed as the carnage of the Cauldron overtook the glass cylinder. The sound was like a symphony of torturous screams, doused in the odour of sulphur and amplified by the sight of hellish slashing flames. It was truly Hell.

  Because Adara was guiding the Shamance, the impact of the Cauldron hit her tenfold. It was as if she was one of the souls being tortured. As the Cauldron’s flames dominated the tube and the glass cylinder erupted into a vision of blazing fire, Adara began to stagger back and forth. And with her body beginning to feel like it was being torn apart, Adara’s hands reached for Odin’s and Haren’s shoulders.

  Understanding exactly what she had asked of Adara, Haren braced her and stood attentively at her side.

  “Can you hold it?” Haren asked. “Is this too much?”

  Adara’s reply was stuttered. “It’s too late to go back now,” she said. “They’ve already seen us.”

  “Already?” Haren said with alarm. “That’s impossible.”

  In fear, Haren turned back to the Shamance and was startled to see that a number of white skeletons had identified the Cauldron’s intruders and were furiously pounding their fists upon the glass cylinder. As the skeletons eyed them, the gravity of the dilemma seemed to fully hit Haren, and she became unsure of the rite.

  “Adara, we can still get out,” she said. “It’s not too late. There is no need for martyrdom. We’ll find another way.”

  The sinister faces of the skeletons compelled Adara to agree, but even as the torture of the Cauldron coursed through her, she knew she couldn’t surrender.

  “I can do this,” she stammered. “Just look for Galian.”

  As Adara’s posture began to bend under the weight of the Cauldron, Odin was d
eeply regretful of what she was experiencing. However, as he braced her, he also knew she was right. It was too late to go back.

  With her legs’ wobbling and staggering, Adara forged her mind even further into the depths of the Cauldron. The Shamance had begun near the top of the Cauldron, and as it began to descend into the prison’s depths, Adara, Haren, and Odin became full witness to the horrific scenes of the Cauldron’s torture. A number of discernible bodies were being ripped apart by the skeletons, and then like vultures, countless skeletons began to spar with each other and scavenge the torn body parts.

  As Adara’s weight fell almost entirely onto Odin, she whispered weakly to him.

  “Keep your eyes open,” she said. “If your brother is still alive, he will no doubt be near the bottom.”

  Understanding the great urgency, Odin scanned the Cauldron for any sign of his brother. As Adara continued to navigate through the Cauldron, the flames seemed to grow more intense, and more skeletons began to butt and smash into the glass cylinder.

  “Odin, we have to… we have to close the Shamance,” Adara whimpered. “The glass… the glass is going to break.”

  With his time and heart fading, Odin desperately searched the bottom of the Cauldron.

  There was no sign of Galian.

  Odin was torn. But he knew he couldn’t ask Adara to suffer anymore.

  However, as Adara raised her hands to extinguish the Shamance, Odin caught a small glimpse of the Cauldron’s floor and, more importantly, a body sitting in cross-legged meditation.

  “There!” Odin shouted as he pointed frantically into the Cauldron. “I saw him. Galian’s there!”

  “Are you sure?” Haren asked. “You must be sure.”

  “Yes. I’m sure. There,” he said as he pointed again.

  As Adara’s head nodded clumsily with exhaustion, somehow she managed enough energy to drive the vision down to where Odin had directed her.