Edge of Darkness
Page 1
Edge of Darkness
(a short story prequel to the upcoming Red World trilogy)
By V. A. Jeffrey
digital photo by Vladimir Sazonoff
cover design by V. A. Jeffrey
Copyright 2012
“Survival of the line is the ultimate goal.
In these dark days it must be the supreme ideology.”
Nagilla the sage
He stood from the tallest, most slender tower of the palace, looking out across wide windows at the violet evening sky. The stars and the delicate light of the twin moons were bleeding in. Numerous towers and obelisks peppered the city, mirroring the tall rock spires of the southern highlands. They were spread out almost as far as the eye could see. Lantern lights flickered like fire bugs far below.
My mighty city. Its grandeur that he carved, wove and scripted on its walls, its people and its institutions. Just like his forebears before him who built it from the dust. Assenna, the great city! Had not the Lord of the Deep Heavens decreed that it should stand forever? It is the pride and the jewel of the world. Should it not always be?
He knew the answer.
“After me, the darkness.” He whispered. Always, the darkness was on his mind and in his dreams. Not even the jeweled evening horizon could shake his mood. There was a quick rap on the doors and the tiny bell chimed. He turned and put his hand on his hip, near the curved sword hidden under voluminous robes. He did not move from the window. The door opened.
“Your Greatness, Most Excellent One. Nagilla the sage is here to see you. May you live, even forever.” Radu entered and bowed low. The king detected a note of derision in that voice.
“Let him in, Radu. That will be all.” Radu nodded curtly to the sage and left. The sage, tall, unbent, with the broad musculature of a man who has known hard work wore the simple, wool gray robes and shaved head of the desert holy men. He was very old but his age could not be determined from his physical bearing. Only his somber, gray eyes revealed something of his great age. They both stood in silence for a few moments until the servant's footsteps grew faint. The sage then strode across the room and stood by the king.
“I've been thinking about retiring Radu. He has become too irksome for words. What do you think?”
“I know it can be a dangerous undertaking, keeping snakes underfoot. Nevertheless, keep him and the others close, for now. It is better to keep a snake under the foot, where you can see him and crush him rather than let him get behind a stone somewhere at your back. Radu thinks himself a clever spy. Let him continue his delusions.”
“Always you are right, Nagilla. Radu has joined the sect of the Ainash. They are growing, even after being banished from the city. Even my own sons sympathize with them. I could have crushed those apostates, had them all executed, their houses burned down and families banished, according to the law, but I withheld punishment.”
“You took the high course, even if many will not see it. There are still many who can see the difference in your rule and the hypocrisy the Ainash offer. The Lord of the Deep sees it and keeps account. Continue on the high course, Your Greatness, though it be thankless.”
“I am tired of bloodshed, Nagilla. I have made a mistake in letting this sect go on for so long. They have gained a strong foothold among the people.”
“It is hard to watch, I realize, but in this case the flowers must grow with the weeds so that all weeds can be plainly seen for what they are when it is time for the judgment. It is Divine Will that you allow it. A judgment is coming. Battling with the Ainash will not change things. The land has grown corrupt even with you as its ruler and it must be cleansed. Do not trouble yourself over it. Your dreams and visions are of divine origin. The land and its people are being called to account.”
“But they cry freedom, Nagilla, as if I were some tyrant! Some even go so far as to call for my death, those cowards outside of the city, at least. I wonder at who will really be free if these Ainash and the other rebels had their way?”
“They will find out one day. Some who cry freedom merely want power for themselves. There are many purposes at work, my king. Some of them very dark. But the overriding one is higher than we know.” Nagilla was steadfast. The king sighed and stroked his, long beard. The jewels braided within clinked against his finger rings.
“What shall I do about my eldest son? Many call for his release. Others for his execution.”
“That is your decision alone, Your Greatness. The Lord of the Deep has willed nothing in this matter.”
“Of course not,” Said the king bitterly. “only that after I die, all will fall into darkness and fire!”
“Yes. The visions are true. They cannot be changed.”
“If only I could make them all see and walk the Red Path.” He looked out at the temples, pavilions, towers, domes and arenas. A jewel of a city, yet nearly completely corrupt. It was hard for him to accept such a beautiful place was so dark a place. Nagilla quoted a passage from the Holy Aishanna written by the prophet Kai'Alit: “I have seen much blood and fire and smoke. I have seen the fires raging, the whole world burning. Fear not you people, for the fire is not eternal. It is a cleansing, a purification and then there shall be a rebirth. This, I have seen.”
“Still, is it not beautiful?” The king asked sadly. He turned to Nagilla with a questing look. The sage's eyes grew soft and kinder for a moment. There was a momentary flicker of white light within, like reflected starlight. Nagilla flicked his gaze over the room then returned his gaze to the king.
“My king, it is beautiful indeed, and will remain so until after your death. But even a beautiful woman must die when there is only evil within. The beautiful tree that bears rotten fruit must be cut down and thrown in the fire.” The king nodded, resigned. He went to the balcony doors and pushed them open. A gentle rush of cool air filled the room.
“So,” He moved to change the subject. “What news? Was our plan successful?” He motioned for Nagilla to follow him out to the balcony.
“All is ready, Your Greatness. All four of your sons born of the concubines have been dispersed through some of the wild tribes. I've had wise men and wise women infiltrate these tribes long ago to prepare for this time. These know the old ways and the old rites. Divine Will shall see to the rest.”
“A shame my royal sons were not fit for the task.”
“Had they still been babes they would have been but bloodline of the Red Kings is what is important. Bloodlines rise and fall, many die out but a promise has been made to your line. Bastard or true-born, they are of the blood.”
“Are they gone, safe from here already?”
“Yes. To the far corners of the world. Which one will take seed we do not know but the bloodline has been preserved. The darkness comes.”
“How long will it last?”
“It was told to me that it shall last through five ages.”
“That long? And the line can be preserved through all that time?”
“Do you doubt it now?”
“No, no. But my forebears and I have built this kingdom with our might and by a god's hand. I sit at the apex of what was once holy and sacred only for it to crumble. One does not accept such a fall easily, even when the prophecy comes from a god.”
They grew quiet again. High above and just under the thin horizon floated the great balloons of the new star stations built for the Star Guild. They seemed from this distance like perfectly shaped oval clouds. The stations were beginning to descend. On the morrow he would hear new reports of the guild's progress on the new star maps.
“Into the dust we all go, as we all came. What things will look like I do not know. Only that He has sent many of us to labor under the darkness bringing light here and there and keeping the light burning wher
e it does not extinguish, until the time for rebirth. All the things that will be needed for that future day will be preserved. Do not worry, my king.” Nagilla pointed towards the floating stations. “The progress, the machines, the new knowledge your Star Guild and the Alchemist Guilds have acquired, all these good things will come again. They will come when the people are ready and the time is right.” The sage turned to face the king squarely.
“My king, my journey in this place comes to an end tonight, as you well know. I have been called home.”
“We shall not see the likes of your kind again, Nagilla.”
“Nor yours. At least, not in this age.”
“Yet, I am a defect.”
“We have been through all this before, my king. Who are you to decide what is defective? That defect has become the reason the peoples have prospered under you and your forebears.”
“Yet, with these coming schisms it will be forgotten and trampled underfoot.”
“And then in that future time, the long memory of time will be awakened again. I bid you farewell, my king.”
“Farewell my friend. Your counsel and wisdom was like cold water upon the dry throat. It will be missed.”
“And I shall miss you.” Said the sage. The king gathered the wide sleeves of his robes, threw them back and embraced the sage. Nagilla embraced him with equal affection. Then he gathered his own rough-hewn robes