* * *
The kismets sat upon the stone benches again, in the waning light of midsummer evening this time, the Sun dyeing the leaves gold. A breeze fluttered their robes.
Other than the occasional crunching of a leaf far below, an atmosphere of absolute, solemn silence dominated the council upon stone.
The time had finally come.
Encarnacion Aionia respectfully gestured to Katherine.
Katherine’s lips were pursed, locked in deep thought.
She lifted her head with great deliberation, and opened her mouth. “No, I cannot accept to be the 51st Encarnacion. There are those more worthy than I. Instead, I shall stay by the new Encarnacion should they arise, and give them my support.”
The council acknowledged Katherine’s decision without question, moving to Isaac next. Retinues of sweat plopped on the smooth stone below his seat, as Isaac wanted to make sense of what he wanted to become. But he’d already chosen long ago.
“I wish to be a doctor, a healer, a diplomat – I am not good in direct combat. With certainty, I know that I’ll perform poorly against physical struggles against the forces of Mahanai. Please, forgive me – I cannot be the 51st.” Isaac made a solemn bow, his waist bent. The council returned it in turn, respectful of his decision.
They turned to Mirai Hinozawa.
A storm brewed upon her expressions, Mirai’s hair ruffling and frizzing in the wind like the thoughts in her head, fringe sweeping across her eyes. She lifted her arm to look upon her Quan; joyous it glowed, with its forging she was able to overcome the demons of yesteryear. But had she truly?
She parted her hair and gave her answer.
“I’m sorry, Professor Aionia. But I can’t. There was a time when I was nearly ensnared by Mahanai. I’ve promised never to call upon his power, but I can’t be certain that I won’t, because I don’t know what the future holds. It’ll be terrible for a potential successor to fall. And...” she paused, wanting not to say even her inner thoughts, “my father’s implored me not to seek revenge. But with power comes desire to make things right, and I’m sure it’ll lead me astray. I am grateful for your consideration and your Tanaarship thus far, but the mantle of Encarnacion I must decline.”
Their answers, Mirai’s in particular, carried with it a depth of reflection seldom seen on those her age. No doubt they’d been thinking of this their entire waking hours; the weight of the world was evident upon their shoulders.
And finally, it came to Elwin.
He rallied his thoughts to an incisive point, and took a deep breath as he began.
“Throughout my Franen, I was blessed to experience many opportunities. I came to realize what I wished to do, and who I wish to become. With Professor Aionia’s help, and that of my friends, I am grateful to have chosen a path of my own.”
Professor Helen raised her eyebrow, reminiscing his triumph over Ursus, his victory over the woodblocks.
“But I never knew our world carried such scars. My greatest lesson was that there are so many people fighting their own battles, suffering in ways far worse than me. And I want to help them. I once announced in the battle, as clear as day:
To all those who come to me for help, to all those who come to me for freedom, I shall stand for them and exclaim: this shall be the meaning of my name!”
“My goals have not changed. I saw in Lucian’s eyes my own, and although he had been my greatest rival to speak the truth... fathoming how he was forced to suffer in silence at the hands of Mahanai made me realize something. It is that if I could act to the best of my ability to help people who suffer like him, to help everyone out of their pain and vanquish those who drive them to despair, then the world doesn’t have to be the way it is. By lifting ourselves, it could be free and happy and beautiful; we could once again take to the stars as our ancestors did, in defiance of Mahanai and his evil. Even if I could save just a single soul in my mission, that’s still a needle that holds doom at bay.”
Headmaster Abraxas from the corner of his eye noticed that Professor Aionia was about to say something; knowing what she would say, and wanting to unburden from her the weight of such a caution, he instead raised his hand before Elwin could continue.
“I speak to you, as the once-President of our Republics. Understand this, Elwin. To be a hero is a curse. To become a hero is to burden and take onto oneself all the sins of the world, past, present, and future. To become a hero is to accept an eternity of loneliness, with only the passing wish that people remember your name in good light. To sail the sky is to first abandon yourself as a human being – your allies will fall around you, your loved ones lost by forces within and outside of your control, which shall drive you to madness and despair. In your journey you must leap past yourself, to surpass that known as ‘human,’ while at the same time forced to not lose your heart, lest you fall to evil. Can you take on these all? Hearing this, are you still willing to become the next Encarnacion?”
Elwin took a deep breath.
“Headmaster, I confided in you at The Marlin that I would like to become someone who can inspire courage in others. I also said that I would like to protect our achievements, our knowledge, our stories and tales and triumphs. My father wanted to recover those things from the sands of time, but I plan to recover them and also pave a way towards the future so that our legacy can be made anew – so that we can proudly declare to all those who watch that this is what humankind is, that this is how great we can be. We once stepped on the Moon and the very planets. We were this close to sailing amidst the very stars.” He paused, letting his words settle.
“I have a deep nostalgia for the neverland that was. Knowing the history of what has been, and what we could do to rise again, I can’t in clear conscience abandon such a mission in pursuit of mere comfort.”
“I will fight against Mahanai in all his corruptions. I will reforge the lost Epitomic Forms. I will help the souls of the world breathe easy again. I will rebuild what was lost and preserve what is made. And fight I shall, to my last breath, and absolve the sins of the world on my back. I will become its shining torch so that ten thousand years on, the peoples of the future will look upon us, and be driven to make a great destiny of their own with a resounding cry: this world is worth fighting for!”
Stolen novel; please report.
“I accept! I accept to become the 51st Encarnacion!”
As he gave his verdict, memories of yesteryear flooded his head; witnessing his father battle against the Marlin King, the sorrows he endured in his absence of light, the beatings by Lucian and his gang for his shortcomings; the prayers he ladled to the MAHANIR of the sky, his humble origin as a serving boy at The Marlin; his meeting of his saviors, the overcoming of reason in his pursuit to save Isaac and his father; his arrival at Aeternitas, his learning of the duties he should bear; the forging of his Quan, his beloved soul-companion, the ten-thousand strikes of the soulforge like fire upon his head; his ousting from his peers, compelled by his own stumbles to push them away; his training and endeavor, and encouragement from his Tanaar; of his impetuous fury against Lucian and his mates, of having his Quan taken from him; his Tanaar restoring in him who he could be, the power to break those chains that bound him to the past; his victory over Ursus, but without death and still making a friend; the grand stratagem of his Celendirs against the Padishahs with the armonion machine; the battle above the man-made sea, leaping beyond possible; the long and arduous sojourn in the city of old, lost under, facing the sights he never once saw, prevailing against Lucian as proof of his endeavors, and his sacrifice to save all those against the Mora; the revelations of the world that drove him a new fire, a will beyond to become the next Encarnacion.
From a serving boy at a humble inn to the next in line for the champion of the world, Elwin had come far, and in just under two years.
With his decision, Elwin set sail at last from the shores of his destiny. He was now to brave the dangers of the open ocean, to meet head-on the horrors of the deep, to conquer its waves with his cherished crew.
The world-lines creaked and groaned as the futures of those around him shifted to fit the shape of the new tapestry; wordlessly, DEIA AETERNITAS dreamt, her eyes serenely closed.
A solitary tear emanated from Professor Aionia’s eye. It fell upon her cheek.
* * *
“ENZEN was unsuccessful at Aeternitas. He has perished.”
“A GREAT LOSS,” the Angel of Mahanai whispered, its form a thick, swirling mass like an inkwash upon the ceiling of the Millennium Congress. It was like a great, dark flower, obscuring the light of the moon coming through the camera of that colossal dome, a diameter spanning 250 yards at the minimum.
“A MOMENT OF SILENCE FOR OUR YOUNG IN RANK,” the Angel commanded, the Greater and Lesser Daevas all falling to their knees, the shapes of their cosmic horrors bowing their heads. A full ten minutes transpired; and the Angel spoke once again.
“LET US ADDRESS THE CELENDIR HENCE,” it slithered, voice sliding like wet clay through the dome and the walls of the hall. “THE ENCARNACION CHOOSES HER NEXT SUCCESSOR. SHE IS TO SELECT AMONG THE FOUR, YOUNG AND INEXPERIENCED; THEY ARE LIKELY TO PURSUE THE REFORGING OF THOSE ANCIENT FORMS, TO RESTORE THE SUN FROM THE TWILIGHT OF THE IDOLS.”
The Daevas kept their heads bowed; absolute silence.
“JUST AS WE’VE BEGUN TO MOVE, SO HAVE THEY. THEREFORE... THERE IS LITTLE ROOM FOR ERROR IN THE DUTIES YOU SHALL FULFILL.”
It spoke in an undulating rumble, tendrils of utter black clouding the roof and the walls.
The Lesser Daevas shuddered behind the formations, the obsidian archeopteryx Mirrikh among them, even though he was the greatest in strength out of his Lesser compatriots. Only the Greater Daevas could maintain their composure.
“ANU-SHENNA AND DOLOMAR...”
The Angel whispered,
I̴̢̞͘ͅ ̴̭̝̐͂͋̅b̷̰̻̿̄̑̊i̶̝̟͈̋̾d̸͓̚͘ ̸͍̦̹̩̆ÿ̶͙̖̠̞́͛o̸̪̅͛ü̸͍̲͎̜͘ ̴̝͙͔͘͘t̵̜̻̺̔͆h̷͚͈̖͛ͅe̸̼̿ ̷͚̫͎̑̀̇͜͠b̶̮̟́̍͊l̵͇̰̪̥̔̔̒́ĕ̴̫͖̜ͅş̶̧͙̭͝s̴̛̥̭̍̕̕ĩ̸̡̯͜ͅn̶̥̖͇͓̏̌̽g̴̘̯̔̇ ̵̛͕̿̈́o̸̟̓̐f̸͇̲͋ ̴͖͐͊̈́̂o̴͎̩̅u̵̦͓͇̒̽̇͂r̴͙̜͖̅̈ ̶͙̦͘K̵̻͖̓͛̈́͜ͅI̸͙̬̽̈́N̷̩̭̪̍̎͋̀G̷̮̩̤̣̉͗̔͠.̶͙̬͉̭͆́
“IMPOSE YOUR WILLS UPON THE SEA OF REEDS.”
Two of the foremost Greater Daevas made a respectful bow as they transmogrified their eldritch forms to something less spacious, turning to march their way out of the hall, atoms folding into themselves with a distending symphony of crunches.
One turned into a man, the other a woman, both dressed in a robed suit and jacket, the pin of the Mythrisian Senate upon their lapels.
Without looking back, and wearing devious smiles upon their faces, they disappeared through the great archway and through the revolving doors, towards the heart of the Republics.
“SURA, MURA, VAGHA, ATESH...
RISE FROM YOUR PLACES.”
Four Lesser Daevas stood at once, their heads and eyes unable to meet the gaze of the Angel above them. Even their terrible forms, crawling larger than that of centipede Enzen, was a teardrop in comparison to the ocean that hung in the ceiling.
The Angel seemed to inhale a mass of air, as much as a river’s worth.
“FIND THE FOUR... AND BRING ME THEIR HEARTS, BEATING... ALIVE.”
“What of the others, Your Holiness?”
“FEAST UPON THEIR SORROWS.”
The Lesser Daevas prostrated at the marble below, each transforming into whichever form they found fit, and slithered beyond the windows of the roof into the awaiting sky, melting into the shadows of the night at Cita de Lumière.
----------------------------------------
THE JOURNEY BEGINS
THE KISMETS SHALL RETURN