by Tyson Jordan
9
Glimpse of Prophecy
I awoke with a sleepy, confused murmur as the white lights above pounded their way into my vision. I was lying in a narrow bed that was not my own, but rather a foreign one that lacked any comfortable yield to the weight of my body. With a quick glance, I immediately realised that I had been moved to the Guild Infirmary. There were a few clustered terminals monitoring my life signs, and resting just beyond them was a large rectangular tank of water that contained the battered form of my friend.
Janus’s gills, narrow trios of slits on either side of his neck, quivered ever so slightly as he slowly took in breath after breath. His lithe form was completely submerged; his hair had become a great mass of swirling crimson, subject to the whims of the circulating water within. I threw my legs over the side of the bed, sluggishly rising from my heavy slumber.
There was a large grey monitor patch on the back of my left hand. I reached for it but, despite my efforts, I was unable to remove the thin piece of technology; instead, it glowed faintly green for a moment, notifying a Guild Physician of my intent.
A tall woman, blonde and green-eyed and pleasantly full-figured, walked in with a smile on her face. She shook her head when she looked at me, and pointed to the bed. I accepted her demand, and relaxed. With that, she left the room again and I was left to look around.
I examined Janus’s leg more closely. The Physicians had performed their task well. The once-bloodied, limp limb was no longer useless and dangling, but had been completely rejuvenated. All that remained was a shadow of a scar that trailed a twisted path from thigh to knee.
I looked to my right then, and bolted upright in alarm. Bir’ Nak’s mountainous form had been handily reduced to a bleeding, black, and burnt core wrapped in bandages. Lanthanein had taken their match much more seriously than I had realised; even this Bra’ Hca, stupid and aggravating as he was, did not deserve such punishment.
A few faint footsteps returned to my ears, and I noticed the same Guild Physician walk in. Her hair was long and bright, waving naturally down past her shoulders. She smiled at me and said, “Well, let’s see how that chest looks.” I gave a slight nod and sat up, touching thin, faint scars where there had once been blood and fire. The Physician kneeled slightly as she made her examination, then smiled. “You were in good hands when you came to me.”
“What about him?” I pointed at Janus and she nodded.
“He needed a lot more work than you did, but he’ll be fine after some rest.” My sigh of relief was enough thanks for her, and she turned her head to give a surprisingly powerful call down the hallway beyond the door. “Instructor Ferric! Initiate Fortuna is ready for discharge.” She turned and departed, meeting my teacher in the door.
“Thank you, Ceres.” The two exchanged places, and Ferric hobbled towards me, looking grimmer than usual. His expression hinted at worry, and he stood close to me.
“Fortuna, are you all right?” I nodded, pointing at the barely noticeable scars on my chest. He shook his head.
“That was not my meaning, and it was rhetorical.” I grimaced, knowing what he really meant. I was unsure of how best to answer, and he pressed on.
“Despite all of the posturing in the media and the forced, artificial spirit of the Centurions, the Guild is on the verge of ruin, Zircon. Our Physicians are bogged down by injury and mental disorder, and there is little room or time for an Initiate who has lost as much as you.” My eyes opened wide.
“I know when you arrived here. I know who your father was, by reputation at least. I know what you must have seen as a child.” My eyes fell to the floor at the sound of his reminders.
“You know I am a holy man, Zircon. I served as a Centurion all those years before. I fought for years on Rck’ Hara and Grand Ocean for a time. I know what those horrors are. They never go away. Sleep gives no solace.” Ferric reached behind him and procured a weathered book.
It was nearly impossible to see and even touch such a thing in that time, especially in the technological labyrinth that was the Guild. All of the writings I had ever seen came in the form of electronic text that glimmered on the screen of a computer terminal, yet here Ferric stood with a precious relic from a time lost thousands of years ago. He handed it to me and I looked at it. It was the First Annal of the Gods, the Book of Kyrosya.
“Instructor, I don’t—” He cut me off before I could protest.
“When I have found myself huddled alone in the darkness, this always gave me the peace I needed to rise again. I hope it can do the same for you.” Ferric turned and left me there, holding a book that I found no meaning in. Even so, I did not discard it.
I wandered the uniformity of the space station and returned to my room, tossing the First Annal onto my bed, its dry pages crackling in protest. I slumped in the hard chair next to my desk and cradled my head in my hands. Healed or not, I was still exhausted, my head pounding in a feeble effort to absorb everything that had happened. Frowning, I let out a shallow breath and stared blankly ahead, my mind uncontrollably active.
Who were those voices in my head? The one guided me, while the other wanted me to … I shuddered, thinking of the dark, oily urges that I had felt in the laboratory. They were wrong, something I knew all too well, yet they felt too easy and natural for me to ignore. Nauseated and needing a distraction, I fell back in the chair, my limbs limp. The First Annal stared me in the face, and I shrugged. It was preferable to reading online military propaganda or studying for exams.
The book creaked happily as I pulled it from its resting place and gently opened it. The cover was beaten brown leather, the pages yellow and crinkled from excessive reading, and they whispered the depths of Ferric’s faith to me. I ran my fingers down the first page, divided into two columns of handwritten ink like all the others, and began to read.
In the beginning, there was Nothing to be heard or found or seen, and this Nothing did pervade beyond time. Upon the first day, the Two did make Their descent to the Nothing, and They did draw Their design upon it.
The First, Kyrosya, God of Good, did permeate the Nothing with His Love and His Faith, and so the Nothing did become enriched, and no longer was it Nothing but was given Feeling.
The Third, Drakannas, God of Heroes, did permeate the Nothing with His Thought and His Ambition, and so the Nothing did become enriched, and no longer was it Nothing but was given Substance, and this Substance was dominated by Feeling and was made to follow its Command.
It was by these two, Feeling and Substance, that all that is living and non-living and that which can feel and feel not, came to be.
The basics that I had just read were not beyond me, although the archaic language was jarring and difficult to read. Nevertheless, I pressed on, curious about the roles played by the others.
For a time too short, all was good and life did come forth. Kyrosya did give His Love to a world born of Drakannas’ Ambition, and so a new life was born of ten fingers and ten toes and two eyes and proud stature. The First did call this world Erde, and they who dwelled upon it Erdechildren.
Drakannas saw the design of his Elder Brother and did not wish to be outdone, and so did he take Kyrosya’s design and remove the middle finger from each hand and two toes from each foot, and he gave to them great adaptation so that they may breathe above and beneath the waters. The Third did birth his world Grand Ocean, and named they who dwelled upon it Ocean Dwellers.
I gave a slight smile at that, wondering how Janus would respond to the idea that he was a variation on a template. I hoped to see him again, and soon.
For a time, these peoples were separate but good and their crafts and desires were untainted. It was the descent of the Others that did bring evil into the Feeling and Substance, and They were called Saitanas and Engelmas, and They were terrible.
The Second, Saitanas, did see the greatness of His Brother’s devising and so He grew jealous and angry and inconsolable, and so did He craft His own world in the heavens. His world was a burn
ing failure, incapable of creation or birth, and so did Saitanas express His hate and cast his world deep beneath all that was, and this world engorged and did become the First Plane.
The Fourth, Engelmas, did see the greatness of his Brother’s peoples and so He devised his own world and his own people not born of hate but of amity, and these people were made tall and strong and fierce, and He did call them Bra’ Hca and gave them a world called Rck’ Hara.
My eyes opened wide in growing disbelief with that. I had always thought that the Bra’ Hca were faithless, devoted only to sadism and brutal warfare. It was for those reasons that they made such effective soldiers.
The Second did see the immature efforts of the Fourth and so He grew more fearful of His failures, and so did Saitanas threaten His young Brother with the destruction of His people. He did say that to save the people of the Fourth, the Fourth must give life to children worthy of the Second, and the Fourth must be subservient in matters all.
The Fourth did agree, and from His tears and His anger, did He birth a new people worthy of the Second, and they were violent and bloody and hateful, and so they were called Malinvicta, and they flooded into the First Plane in a great multitude . Shamed at this, the Fourth did remove His people’s heritage, and so they were lost and godless but still strong and independent and unaware of their failed God.
Angry with the schemes of Their Brothers, the First and the Third did go to the Second and the Fourth and demand their influence be removed, and the Second did not budge and so the Fourth was bound to Him. It was then that the War began, and the Malinvicta of First Plane did rush into all that was Everything, and they were met with great force by the Children of Erde and the Ocean Dwellers and the Bra’ Hca.
I put the book down, my tolerance for religious determinism wavering, and I lay down in bed with no hope of a restful sleep that night.
10
Knowing Myself, Knowing Another
There were no classes the next day, something that I was grateful for. The usual wailing of my alarm was replaced by a harsh automated reminder of morning prayer on this weekly day of worship, and I beat it into submission with my palm. I sat forward, rubbing my eyes. It had been a dreamless sleep, one where I floated in the grey boundary between life and oblivion, and as always, it had not been restful.
My terminal flickered to life then, and an automated message began droning about morning prayer in one of the many mess halls throughout the Guild. I rose to my feet, if only to turn it off. If nothing else, worship had me out of bed in a timely fashion. I wondered what I would do with myself on this usual and welcome break from studies, when there was a sudden knock at the door.
I expected no visitors and was hesitant to answer, but the door opened and revealed Janus Baskervor, looking weary but nonetheless healthy. He walked in, limping slightly, and plopped himself on my bed.
“Good morning! I see you’re not off to morning prayer with the older members of the Guild.” Janus smiled at me, and I shook my head.
“Good. Me neither.” He laughed at that, and I wondered about his intentions.
“You don’t believe?” I asked. Janus nodded, adding, “Don’t get me wrong. I believe in Drakannas, but He’s the kind of guy who values actions more than words.” I shrugged, knowing little of my friend’s meaning. Our suspension in awkward silence began.
“So … about what happened before. Down there.” His tone sombre, Janus began speaking.
“I’m here to say thanks. You barely know me, and yet there you were, swinging a sword for my sake.” My heart sank in confusion, as I was still grappling with my intentions in the laboratory. I accepted his thanks in any case, and we plunged into another momentary silence. It was clear that dredging through the memory would do more harm than good.
“Not much of a talker, are you?” The Ocean Dweller was more than effective at breaking those moments.
“No, I guess not.”
“Well, that’s just fine. I’m a talker, and it’s hard for me to do that with people constantly yammering on and on … better for me to be around you silent types.” Janus smiled and began to cross his legs, but then winced slightly and returned his foot to the floor. I could not see the scar, of course, but I knew it was there all the same.
“How is it?”
“About as good as it can be. Bir’ Nak’s the one I’m worried about right now. He got pretty cooked in his scrap with that Sentinel. He never was all that bright.”
The sight of the Bra’ Hca’s broken, scorched form was one I would not forget easily, and I asked, “Will he be all right?”
“Oh, I imagine so. He’s too dumb to do anything but keep on breathing, him and Jaf’ Rah both. Oh well, lackeys can’t be all that bright or they wouldn’t be lackeys, right?” An incorrigible grin spread across his face, and my curiosity was piqued. Boss … they called him “Boss” before.
“Why do they take orders from you, anyway?” I crossed my arms, puzzled.
“Well, it’s not that interesting, really. Those two should have finished their time here well over a year ago, but like I said, they’re not that bright. About three or four months ago, I was having a few issues with a big idiot named Ferrous who, like a lot of your people, liked to think that the Erdechildren were … above the rest of us, right?” I nodded, entirely aware of the discrimination that he described. It was regrettable that we were divided amongst ourselves, even in the face of the demonic threat.
“So, I ran into those two goons of mine who needed a little extra … let’s say ‘help’ with their academics, and I needed a bit of help with Ferrous. My enormous grey pals were more than happy to straighten him out for me, and now they follow a few orders for me here and there. It’s not a bad arrangement.”
“And I’m one of those orders?” Janus’s posture stiffened at that, and another silence ensued, one that he found more difficult to break. His lackeys may have found an unusual name entertaining, but he was clearly much too intelligent for that sort of immaturity. I broke it for him and asked, “What did you want from me?”
Inspiration flashed in his eyes at that, and he asked, “Have you ever been down to the docks here?” The question caught me off guard, and I declined. Janus stood and beckoned at the door. “Well, if you want an answer, I guess you’ll just have to come along.”
11
Family History
Janus and I made our way through the myriad of quick shafts and corridors, and I had never travelled so far beyond the residential blocks of the Guild. With each passing mile the architecture changed from old to new, until the docking bays came into view. There was no corridor leading to them on foot; instead, several quick shaft tunnels converged at the edge of the Guild, and the door swung open. We walked out, and I was taken aback by the sheer enormity of the place.
It was long and deep and tall, and, despite standing on a high catwalk that gave great perspective, I could not see either end of the docking bay. I found out that they simply kept going on for almost forever, wrapping all the way around the space station. From the signs above, we could tell that we had reached the area designated for small ships and light cruisers.
Janus’s head swiveled slowly from side to side for a few moments, then locked in place. He tapped me on the shoulder and we descended the stairs. With each step, the sights, sounds, and smells of engine grease and cutting torches pounded their way into view, and the ships themselves left me nostalgic. Small two-man fighters peppered the dock, and there was even a fifty-man light cruiser with the crest Phosphoros cut into its hull. I was smiling broadly and could have spent hours there, but Janus veered left and we soon stopped.
“How’ve you been, Gareem?” Janus smiled at a mechanic who was doubled over with his arms and head devoured by an engine. His uniform was a greasy black rather than standard blue, and the thin man barked a reply.
“I’m overworked, underpaid, and goddamned miserable!”
He stood, revealing the thin face of an Ocean Dweller, one that was
shorter and wider than Janus but nevertheless too similar to be coincidence. They were family, and this blue-haired older man flashed Janus a mouthful of teeth.
“But otherwise fine. What’s a skinny little Initiate like you doin’ here, anyway? It’s against the rules, you know. You should always obey those.” They laughed hysterically at what was clearly an inside joke. When they calmed themselves, Janus pointed his thumb at me, and Gareem looked over, his bright blue eyes, tinged with violet, shining in interest. He closed the distance with short, rapid steps and stared intently at my father’s headband.
“Yeah … that’s it all right. That’s the one.” His voice turned grave so quickly that it was like meeting another person entirely.
“Name’s Gareem. Guess you must be Zircon, the son of smiley ol’ Cobalt Fortuna, eh? Thanks for saving this scrawny pile of red hair and scales for me.” My eyes widened in surprise and he shook my hand, leaving behind a substantial glob of grease. I paid it no mind, being much more interested in this man’s connection with my father.
“You knew him?” I asked, my eyes having widened at the sound of his name.
“Yeah, about as well as you can know a guy like that. We served along with Janus’s father… my brother, Tahiq. That was before everything went bad.” I was stunned in silence. I had questions that needed to be answered, and none of them were coming to the forefront. Thankfully, like his nephew, Gareem was the talkative sort, and he appreciated my dumbfounded silence.
Janus broke that silence and said, “Bir’ Nak and Jaf’ Rah came to me once and, amidst all the giggling, they told me about a guy named ‘Zircon.’ Not to be rude, but I didn’t much care until they told me you wore a bright blue headband like the one my father wore.” Gareem cleared his throat loudly and Janus straightened his posture.